The Black Shepherd

by Steven Savile

  ‘Oh, I think you have far more in you than that, and that belief was there even before I spoke with the others. I think you could be a mentor to the younger girls. In fact, in time, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were chosen to replace me.’

  ‘Replace you?’

  ‘We all serve One World as best we can. It is our calling. When I am called to help elsewhere someone will be needed here. That is just the way of things. We open ourselves up to opportunity by not saying no. My hope is that over the next few days you start to see what opportunities wait for you here. There will be challenges, of course, but I am sure you will overcome them if you want it badly enough.’

  ‘Well, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that sounds intriguing.’

  ‘It is supposed to,’ Charles said. ‘I truly hope you feel the same way in a few days’ time. Now, that is only half of why I wanted to talk to you, my dear. My second question was about your fellow family and the talents you feel they might have. I am very interested to hear what you have to say.’

  She didn’t have to think about it. ‘Tania.’

  ‘Tania? Interesting. I had rather expected you to choose her sister, Alina, after your time together.’

  ‘Alina is easy. She loves animals. She had her heart set on working with elephants in Africa, but would be just as happy working with stray dogs in a shelter.’

  ‘And I’m sure that we’ll be able to find her something like that, in time. As you say, she is very young. There may be other things we’d like her to do first. So Tania?’

  ‘Number one, she’s ferociously protective of her sister.’

  She saw his brow furrow. ‘And how is that of use to One World?’

  ‘You don’t see it? We are one family,’ she replied.

  ‘Ah,’ he said.

  She didn’t need to spell it out any further.

  He understood, grasped exactly what she meant. To be ferociously protective of a sister makes her ferociously protective of all sisters. It was a simple enough concept, but sharing it made Frankie uncomfortable, as though she was betraying the girl to One World. She knew how cults worked. They looked for ways to manipulate. And she’d just given them one when it came to Tania.

  For some out there it was worse than bad, or hard, or any other basic adjective, it was a case of being willing to sell their soul in exchange for a hot meal and a bed for the night. The homeless she’d found in Tallinn had help given freely. It was different. There was no demand of anything in return. At least not for most of them. It felt actually, honestly, altruistic. And that was One World, too.

  It would be easy to focus on the good they did to the exclusion of the ugly things she suspected they were behind, but that wasn’t why she was here giving her testimony to Charles. She was here to find her cousin, Irma. Or at the worst, God forbid, find out what had happened to her. She wasn’t here to buy into the stuff they were selling. The burning-building rescues, the laying-on of hands, the whole Shepherd thing, was just make-believe. Propaganda. One thing that was becoming increasingly obvious to Frankie was how easy it would be for someone who was vulnerable and needing to find some sort of belonging to fall for this bullshit he was peddling. Not only fall for it, cling to it.

  ‘There will be a place for all of the girls, but I suspect many more opportunities will open up for you, Ceska. You are different.’

  She wondered if he’d said the same thing to Irma when she’d sat before him. Maybe he said it to all of them, just like his line about looking nervous.

  He could offer a place for everyone, but that didn’t mean animal sanctuaries and food kitchens. Not everyone they brought in off the street was getting a happy ending here.

  There was a burned body in the woods that stood testimony to that – if they could prove the links.

  But, for the first time, Frankie wondered if that lost girl was the only one that had been buried in the forest, or if there were others buried out there?

  FIFTY-THREE

  John was already in the main room when Frankie left the office.

  He didn’t look like the messiah.

  Indeed, he didn’t look like much of anything. He was attractive without being beautiful. He was tall, but without dominating. It wasn’t until he opened his mouth that what made him special became obvious.

  He chatted easily with the girls over a cup of coffee, all smiles and kind words, and they loved him. It was like watching schoolgirls leaning in all ‘Summer Nights’ as the dreamboat told his story of summer dreams, ripped at the seams, uh huh, uh huh.

  All she could do was pretend she was as fascinated as they were.

  ‘Ceska,’ he said when he saw her, all smiles and that full-bore charm. He reached out a hand, calling her over. She could feel his heat through her sweatshirt as he put his hand on her arm. ‘It makes my heart soar to look at you, dear girl. I hear you are making friends?’

  ‘No,’ she said, and for the silence between heartbeats the room was utterly silent. She smiled. ‘I’m making a family.’

  ‘That’s our Ceska,’ Charles said, moving to stand beside her. ‘She’s a star.’ There was a look that passed between the two men that Frankie almost missed. Another one of their not-so subtle tests, no doubt.

  ‘I knew there was something special about this young lady the moment I set eyes on her. It’s her soul colours. They are so vibrant. You can see them coming off her in waves. I’ve never seen an aura so strong.’ Which sounded like hocus-pocus voodoo bullshit as far as Frankie was concerned, but no doubt it was part of the teachings of The Shepherd that somehow explained how people could overturn cars to save crash victims like Tasha and heal the burns of others. After all, hadn’t one of the first miracles of Jesus been healing? It was a good precedent if you were going to convince your faithful you were worthy of devotion. ‘I’m looking forward to telling Tasha how right she was to call me. She’s an incredible judge of a soul. One of the best I’ve ever met. We bless the day you walked into our lives, Ceska. You have made us all so much richer.’

  ‘I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say to that. Thank you?’

  He smiled his benevolently condescending smile. ‘Well, what I’m hoping you’ll say is that you’ve found your home and want to commit to One World,’ he said, smoothly.

  She’d known this moment was coming, but hadn’t expected it so soon, and not in front of the others. She needed to get this right. She chewed on the inside of her lower lip, then let the smile touch her eyes. She couldn’t believe they were so eager to claim her. Part of her wondered all over again if it wasn’t too easy, that they’d somehow rumbled her and were setting her up to fail.

  And then what?

  Chase her through the woods, dogs on her heels, put a bullet in her chest and leave her to rot?

  She couldn’t think about that.

  She needed them to buy her devotion to the cause.

  What worried her was she knew precious little about them, less – it felt like, at least – than she’d known before Tasha found her. How far could she actually go before she learned anything of worth that would help her find her cousin? Or help Peter tie the body in the woods to One World and bring this house of false gods tumbling down around The Shepherd?

  ‘I feel at home here.’ She looked away from The Shepherd and shared a secret smile with Alina across the table. ‘I’ve got some really great new sisters.’

  John nodded. ‘They are the best people,’ he said, like somehow he’d always known they were, and that it wasn’t their weaknesses that drew these lost girls to him. ‘Now, no doubt Charles told you that you would face a series of challenges?’

  ‘He did, though he was vague as to their nature.’

  ‘There is nothing to be frightened of. They are merely designed to test your commitment to our life. Normally, with new followers we wouldn’t even consider the possibility of them facing the first of the challenges until after the end of their induction, having listened to at least a fortnight of testimony and coming to learn
their true soul. But you are different, Ceska. You are extraordinary, an old soul, and it behoves us to treat you differently.’

  ‘Honestly,’ she said. ‘There’s no need. I don’t want to be treated differently from my sisters. We walk this road together.’

  ‘Consider it a fast track. We recognize your gift. I brought someone with me last night. Like you, he has special talents. I hope, if you decide that you are ready in a day or two, that he will be the perfect man to help you reach the next stage of your journey with us. He was one of the best to pass through this place. Like you, a truly incredible soul. Every challenge he faced, he overcame. I think you will bond well with him. I see a lot of you in him.’

  She nodded. ‘I will try to prove myself worthy of your faith.’

  ‘Of that, my dear heart, I have no doubt.’

  Frankie took her seat with the other girls.

  She listened to The Shepherd talk about the talents they each possessed, coaching them in vaguely spiritual terms that were borrowed from cheap pop psychology. Bits of Freud, pieces of Jung and Kant and a few others thrown in for good measure. He was such an obvious bullshit merchant it was frightening to realize just how gullible these girls were. But all that meant was they were desperate, didn’t it? They really were lost girls, like Peter Pan’s boys. Frankie had always had a different take on that J.M. Barrie story: in her head Peter was the Angel of Death who appeared to children in the moments after their deaths to help them cross to the other side. That was why they didn’t grow up.

  What was interesting was how John could talk for so long about their futures and their new family here without it ever feeling like he was repeating the sermons of those propaganda films. He was a gifted speaker. His voice wasn’t just velvet, it was fascinating. He knew how to use it to manipulate the listener, like the best politicians, educators, and life coaches – he was like a living TED Talk.

  And what was truly impressive was how he managed to make and maintain eye contact with everyone in the room, making them all feel included and engaged as he talked. He encouraged questions, and seamlessly returned to the main thread of the sermon without losing his train of thought.

  He was word-perfect.

  His charisma went beyond anything natural; he was a performer. An entertainer.

  When at last he’d finished, John was rewarded with a rush of applause – a rapture. Frankie looked at her sisters, wondering if any of them had ever given such a frantic-to-please response in their lives?

  She matched them.

  It wasn’t hard to get swept away by their enthusiasm if she didn’t think about why she was applauding.

  Afterwards, John took the girls aside in small groups for more intimate conversations. He leaned in close. He leaned back and spread his arms. He was so expressive with his body, talking with all of it, hands and heart and voice, Frankie thought, watching him.

  In the middle of it all, she noticed a stranger enter the room. He made an effort not to draw attention to himself, simply taking a seat on the periphery and waiting.

  Frankie watched him watching the girls.

  She assumed he was the man John mentioned, her would-be mentor.

  Seeing him, John excused himself from the last of his conversations and moved away from the cluster of girls surrounding him. He caught Frankie’s eye and waved her over, beckoning the newcomer to join them.

  ‘Ceska,’ he said. ‘I’d like you to meet someone. This is Maksim Kask. He’s a much-valued member of our family, and like yourself possesses unique talents that make me believe he will prove to be a wonderful partner and mentor for you. Max, this is Ceska, the girl I told you about.’

  FIFTY-FOUR

  Peter Ash walked through the reception.

  He saw a couple with huge hard-body suitcases head for the lifts, and followed them.

  He didn’t make eye contact with anyone.

  He wasn’t about to risk being challenged, because the last thing he wanted to do was show his identification and make a whole big thing about why he was there.

  The couple paid no attention to him; to the extent that they didn’t even ask what floor he wanted, which was rude, but again he wasn’t going to make a big thing out of it. The husband pushed the button for the ninth floor. Peter said, ‘Six, please.’

  The woman smiled back as her husband punched the button for a second stop. She didn’t say anything. Maybe it was just the language barrier rather than plain rudeness, Peter thought. It didn’t really matter, he was out of there before the silence became uncomfortable.

  Room 612.

  He needed to think. He couldn’t just barge in. Schnieder wasn’t an enemy he wanted to make, even if his stock was falling thanks to the end of the whole perfect family guy reputation he’d built up being shattered by that mortal weakness of many a man, a pretty young girl.

  What it came down to was just how far in-deep Schnieder was with One World.

  And if Maria Bartok was right and the girls were being used to build compromising intelligence on the rich and powerful, what One World intended to use that stuff for.

  He doubted very much Cristiana would have all the answers, or even any of them, but she was his best bet by far when it came to digging for the truth. Even if she wasn’t a willing ally.

  Corruption in the heart of government made for a decent story for someone, and despite the best efforts of the US to discredit journalists and brand anything bad as fake news, there were still a lot of very good reporters out there who would give their lives in pursuit of the right story. That was how important the truth was. It was just a case of putting the story in front of the right person if he couldn’t chase it himself.

  Peter knocked on the door and waited.

  He heard movement on the other side, then a woman’s voice called, ‘Just a second.’

  When she opened, still on the steel chain, he saw a fringe of blonde hair, the side of her face and the shoulder of a thick terry-cloth robe. ‘Can I help you?’

  ‘I hope so,’ he said, ‘Though, actually, I’m here to offer you my help.’

  On the flight from Stockholm he’d skim-read the book he had retrieved from Kask’s apartment, and gleaned as much as he could of the secrecy around One World and how it all worked. He produced the coin – which he knew now wasn’t a coin at all, but rather a medal that had been presented to Kask in honour of his services to One World – still in its plastic case, and made sure she could see it as he told her, ‘We are all one family.’

  ‘We are all One World,’ she replied with the fervour of a cult devotee, and took a step back to let him step inside.

  Peter slipped the coin back into his pocket and looked around the room.

  It was more luxurious than his own budget would have stretched to, by some distance.

  Being in a cult obviously has its advantages, he thought.

  The bed had been freshly made. Nothing seemed immediately out of place or suspicious. A small suitcase was on the stand beside the wardrobe. He could see clothes that would have cost him a year’s salary hanging on the rack inside.

  ‘Have I disappointed The Shepherd?’ she asked, knotting her fingers nervously.

  ‘I need you to talk me through what happened last night.’

  ‘I did everything I was told to do, I swear.’

  ‘The Shepherd knows that, Cristiana. This is not about your failings. You are a valued part of our family. We are concerned that you were observed, and what that watcher intends to do, and if it impacts upon our plans. For that reason I need you to talk me through everything you remember, every detail, there can be no room for error, no possibility of any misunderstanding.’

  ‘Of course.’ She sat down in the armchair. He realized she was waiting for him to tell her he was ready, so he took his phone out of his pocket and set it to record. It was a gamble, but he figured a sect like One World habitually recorded the words of the faithful to use against them if the need ever arose. The benefit of the recorder was that it would make h
er more careful with her words, taking the time to get everything right.

  She nodded. ‘Where do you want me to start?’

  ‘How about we take it from the time you checked into the hotel?’

  She nodded again and started to walk him step by step through what had happened since she’d first collected the key for room 612.

  It didn’t take long for him to be sure Schnieder had no idea there was a connection to One World. He wasn’t one of them. A meeting had been set up, and he’d been set up in turn, flattered by her attention. It was crude stuff, not great tradecraft, but then simple was often the most effective when it came to this kind of thing. He was in a pressure-point. Trouble at home. Stress in the public eye. That adulation as one of the new bright hopes. All of it was enough to steer him towards breaking. She had simply been in the right place at the right time, because he was vulnerable. That, of course, had always been The Shepherd’s plan. The poor bastard hadn’t got a clue. ‘Being photographed hadn’t been part of the plan,’ she said. ‘I tried to stay out of the shot. Gerhart even tried to shield me, but they got my face and suddenly there was a story and I was in the middle of it.’

  Peter waved her apology away. ‘Everything is as it was meant to be,’ he said, trying to sound vague and portentous, as he imagined a real One Worlder who’d drunk the Kool-Aid would sound.

  Her eyes widened in surprise. ‘It was arranged, wasn’t it? You are behind the film?’ Peter said nothing, letting her fill in the silences. ‘Why? He was eating out of my hand. He would have given me the world if I’d asked for it.’

  ‘You brought him back here?’ he said, ignoring her questions because he didn’t have the answers and trying to make stuff up was only going to trip him up.

  ‘He walked me to the room, but didn’t stay.’

  ‘You didn’t try to persuade him?’

  ‘He’s in love with his wife.’

  ‘That has never stopped a horny man before,’ Peter said.