Chapter 15

Chapter 14  (13+) The artifact wakes up. Annie communicates with JD11 #2037630 by Hyperiongate

Chapter 15

Darkness fell and the normally bustling market place of the small village rolled up for the night. There was no one to notice the out of place black sedan that coasted down the main street. It stopped in front the only tavern in town. A small man came out right away, as if he had been expecting this particular arrival. He wrung his hands nervously as the car’s rear left window slid down. After exchanging a few words with the unseen car’s occupant, the barkeep hurried back inside. Almost immediately, the lighted sign out front went dark and the blinds were pulled down. The sedan slid around to park in the back.

Soon, other similar cars glided into town and found their way to the back of the tavern; unnoticed by the village’s sleeping inhabitants. Finally a total of eight vehicles were parked behind the tavern. The nervous barkeep emerged from the back door and scurried off to his home. There were secret goings on in the tavern tonight; things he wanted no part of. He had been paid well to keep his mouth shut and that was what he intended to do.

Inside, eight robed men sat around an old wooden table; hoods hung over heads bowed in prayer. Candles provided the only light. Not a word had been shared, although all seemed to be chanting to themselves. At first the chants were disassociated, giving a sense of randomness to the deep rumbling voices. The languages were as different as the deities the men prayed to. Among the group were a representatives from some of the world’s largest religious organizations; however, a couple were best labeled as miscellaneous. Slowly, almost imperceptivity, the chants began to join together in a single language and prayer while building in volume.

After a few minutes, the robed figure at the head of the table lifted a gnarled cane that was leaning against the table. He tapped it on the floor loudly, three times. On the third tap, all chanting abruptly stopped. All of the robed figures raised their heads and pulled back their hoods. The man at the head of the table stood as the others faced him.

He closed his eyes and lifted his outstretched arms and said, “We live to serve.”

As one, the others repeated, “We live to serve.”

“We are your army. We are your sword.”

Again, the others repeated, “We are your army. We are your sword.”

“Direct us and we gladly do your bidding without fear; without question.”

The others repeated this final phase as well and then waited as their leader, Father Esperanto, sat down and gathered his thoughts. It was time to get down to the business at hand.

“Brothers, it is good to see you again. As always, our gathering is both a blessing and a curse. For all of our lives, and for generations before us, we have served Him. While we differ on the nature of “Him” we all recognize that an ultimate creator exists. It’s to this creator that we give thanks. We are blessed to serve at his feet in this mortal world.”

“We know that evil resides amongst us; often shoulder to shoulder. It is our both our burden and our gift to battle the forces of darkness. It is the charge of The Brotherhood to protect our sheep against the Dark Lord and his never-ending quest to turn the faithful away from the ways of our various faiths. Should we falter in this task, chaos will certainly follow and souls of mankind will be lost forever.”

Heads nodded in dutiful agreement. They’d heard this all before; dozens, maybe hundreds of times. The last few years it had been Brother Esperanto’s job to utter the words that bound them all together. Before him, it had been Brother Abdul and then Brother Samuel and on and on it went for as long as any of them could recall.

“This is why we must be vigilant,” continued Esperanto. “This is why we exist. This is why we are here tonight.”

“Brothers, I fear there is a new Beast amongst us. Word has reached me of an artifact and a man discovered together in the United States. The man, born of fire, was reported to be both dead and alive; trickery we’ve seen all too often from the Dark Lord.”

Esperanto paused to look at the faces around the table. He’d known most of these men for more than half a century. During that time they had faced some of gravest threats that mankind would never know about. The Dark Lord, Fallen Angel, Beast or whatever they felt compelled to called it, was always working to bring civilization to an end. He had been doing just that since the Garden of Eden. With almost unlimited resources, the men that sat at this table, and those that had come before them, had succeeded in keeping evil at bay for more than two thousand years.

“If our source is to be believed, then He is here. The Dark Angle has manifested itself in human form once again. We must shake off the weariness of our old bones and take the battle to him.”

Esperanto looked from face to face, grateful for the lack of fear his brethren showed at the news. They had been through this before and would go through it again, if not them, then their successors. They always won their battles but the war they fought was never ending.

“Less than two days ago, I dispatched one of our “swords” to deal with the situation. Even as we speak, he is on a plane to the United States. His orders are to be silent, swift and efficient. He will first investigate to see if there is any merit to the reports. If they are true, and if it be God’s will, our “sword” will cut out the heart of the beast. This will be over within a matter of days.”

“I will continue to keep you informed. Of course, we will be drawing on all of our considerable resources to make sure our man has all that he needs to get the job done. Are there any questions?”

“Brother Esperanto. What is this Artifact you mentioned?”

“I have very little information at this time. Something large and metallic was found buried in the ground near the Beast. The military has begun moving equipment to this site so we can only assume it is something of significance.”

“Brother, what is the nature of this sword you have sent forth?”

“Rudolfo,” was the one-word response. They all knew what this meant. This was extremely serious. Esperanto was not taking any chances.

There were no further questions.

As he rose from his chair, the others rose as well. After a final look around, he left through the tavern’s back door. The others followed. Eight sedans passed out of the village as quietly as they had entered.

Eight hours later a non-descript man in forgettable clothing passed through passport control at New York’s La Guardia airport. His documents indicated that he was Brad Silverstone from Scranton, Pennsylvania. He told the agent that he was returning from a business trip to Budapest where he had attended a convention on educational software. They didn’t inspect his carry-on bag or his checked luggage. If they had, they would have found software brochures and wrinkled clothing; just what one would expect.

As he walked through the airport, he made a call on his cell phone.

A woman’s voice said “Hello?”

The man responded in a voice free of any accent, “Hi honey, I just wanted to let you know I landed safely. Yes, it was a long trip and I’m beat. I should be home in an hour or so.” He listened for the response that would indicate everything was on track.

“That’s great to hear. I can’t wait to see you again,” came the coded reply.

He hung up the phone, smiling the smile of a man that was looking forward to seeing his wife again. His mind went back through the next steps. “Great” meant that his next contact was in Reno. “Again” indicated that his contact there was going to pick him up in a taxi at the Reno airport as planned, two days from now. In the meantime, it was time for Brad Silverstone to become Frank Thompson on his way to Miami. There would be several more planes as he crisscrossed the county making sure his trail was clean.

Stepping into a stall at the nearest bathroom, he changed clothes and peeled off his mustache. As he dried his hands, a disposable cell phone blended in with the paper towel and disappeared into the trashcan.

Rudolf took one last look in the mirror before heading off. He had a plane to catch.
*****
An elected suit in Washington D.C. listened to the voice on the other end of the line without comment. It was getting on towards evening and all of the aides had left for the night. Alone, in the ornate office, sitting behind a rosewood desk in his padded leather chair, the senator began to sweat.

The voice on the phone had started with “Get a pen and write this down.”

No greeting. No small talk. None was needed as the senator knew this voice. He’d only heard it five times in the past four years, but there was no mistaking who it was. Plus, he was expecting the call as his source informed him of the Brotherhood meeting only a few hours earlier. They had wasted no time in coming to him for help; help he would have to provide. Not for the first time, he wondered if the price he’d paid to get elected was worth it. The Brotherhood didn’t come to him often, but when they did, it was clear that they expected compliance. They had put him in power and could just as easily see him to the nearest exit.

After a few minutes and a shot of Scotch, he picked up his phone. The source had requested a some very specific information from the senator; information he would have no option other than to provide. Officially, it wasn’t something that even existed.

He took a deep breath and dialed a number. None-existent information was not always easy to get. Fortunately, he had puppets of his own and it was time to pull a few of their strings.

Chapter 16  (13+) Annie and Lise meet to discuss...hearing voices. #2038211 by Hyperiongate