she had spent hers preparing for it. He was more interested in her than in their mission; for her it was just the opposite. He wondered if she had any interest in him at all. “Well, he said,” trying to make light of it, “at least one of us is ready for what’s to come.”
She just gave him a sneer and said, “I hope so.” For a moment they just sat there, frozen, then, as if by mutual decision, they resumed their dinner without speaking about their mission again for the rest of the evening.
10
The twelve men, eleven Cardinals and the Pope, all clothed in their vestments, descended the long staircase that lead to the basement chamber of the apostolic palace in Vatican City, Rome. The chamber was a large round room, ringed by massive white columns, with a high ceiling and stone walls with a variety of figures carved into them. The figures were of ancient gods, beasts, angels, demons and an assortment of other strange and exotic creatures. The only light came from lanterns, which sat in holders that had been anchored into the walls. The room was dark and dank, filled with shadows and an eerie silence.
The men spread out into a large circle in the center of the room. Hanging from the ceiling in the middle of the circle was a rope. The men knit their hands together in a prayerful pose and bowed their heads. Then they began to chant in Latin. Tuum est regnum, tuum regnum venero ut. The Kingdom is yours; come take your kingdom.
The chant continued for five minutes. Then the pope stood in the middle of the circle, stretched his arms out wide and said in a booming voice: “When ye therefore shall see the abomination of desolation, spoken of by Daniel the prophet, stand in the holy place, Then let them which be in Judea flee into the mountains . . .”
And the cardinals declared in response: Ipse stat in locum sanctum He stands in the Holy Place!
The pope continued: “Let no man deceive you by any means: for that day shall not come, except there come a falling away first, and the man of sin be revealed, the son of perdition; who opposeth and exalteth himself above all that is called God, or that is worshipped; so that he as God sitteth in the temple of God, shewing himself that he is God.
The cardinals declared in response: Venit sedens in templo! Come sit in the temple!
Then the pope pulled on the rope. A whole opened up in the ceiling and a huge cross dropped down, stopping just inches from the floor. It was inverted, with the figure of Christ attached. One by one the Cardinals approached it and pissed on it, declaring Ut benedicat tibi—I renounce you—as they did so.
Then they gathered back in a circle and took up a new chant: tuun est Ecclesia nostra; tolle tibi sedem in templo. Our church is yours; take your seat in the temple.
Over and over again they made the dreadful pronouncement, each time their voices growing louder, until they were shouting it out at the top of their lungs, their bodies trembling, their voices straining, their brows slick with sweat. Amidst their shouts the first plumes of smoke began to arise from the floor below them. Slowly it grew denser and blacker. The acrid stench of hell fire filled the air as the figures in the stone walls began to pulse with life, growling and screeching in glorious celebration.
When it was over, they pulled the cross back up into the ceiling, wiped the smoke residue off their vestments, and made their way back up the stairs, where they would continue business as usual.
11
Jack lay there on his bed, head propped against the headboard, thinking about the day’s events. Mostly he was thinking about his conversation with Diane, which had ended with a kind of silent, mutual agreement not to discuss the matter any further that evening. The rest of the evening’s conversation pertained entirely to mundane matters of mutual interest, like the dinner they ate together, the job they shared, and the movie they watched on the sofa before retiring to their respective bedrooms. Some more consideration was given to the matter of naming their cat, and they finally decided to call it Smokey.
He rolled over to his side and stared at the watch on his dresser. It was twelve P.M.. He had already been lying there for an hour, thinking. They covered a lot of ground at dinner, but there were so many things they didn’t cover. So many questions he still had. Were they still trying to kill her too? And if so, why? Why were the two of them regarded as threats, and to whom? And what about their mission? What was it exactly? When was it to begin? And what about them? Did she dream about him the way he dreamt about her? Did she have feelings for him? Those were just a few of the questions he had; there were many more, and right now, they were playing and re-playing in his mind like a record with the needle stuck, blocking him from sleeping.
To make matters worse, he did not even have the cat to curl up with; the darned thing had taken a decided preference for Diane and had chosen to spend the night with her. Of course, cats never were never known for their loyalty; that was more of a dog thing. But at least he did have a bed tonight. That was a substantial improvement over a park bench. And while the cover of the night sky might have a certain charm, it was no substitute for an actual brick and mortar ceiling. In point of fact he had it pretty good right now, if he could just quell the crush of questions that were crowding his brain. If only he had a fraction of Diane’s faith. Or her commitment. But he didn’t, and he doubted that he ever would. But then again, he had never really expected to see Diane in the flesh, and here he was, so what did he know?
The questions continued to swirl in his brain, but gradually, they slowed down, until finally his eyes grew heavy and slumber overtook him.
Moments later he was dreaming.
He was in a garden, alone, surrounded only by the sights and sounds of nature. In the distance a woman was walking toward him. Like him, she was naked. She walked slowly, with great deliberation. Her arms were slightly outstretched, palms facing up. Her hips swayed with each long, graceful stride. As she got closer, a small, wry smile crept onto her lips. She stopped just feet before him, drinking him in with her big, brown eyes, then brought her hands up slowly to his cheeks, tickling his skin with the tips of her soft, tapered fingers. Her touch was like an electrical current, sending waves of pleasure through his body. She began to draw his face toward her waiting lips. As she did, she slid one hand behind him, down his back, and began moving it in circles. The warmth from her hands was like nothing he had ever felt before. By the time their lips touched, his legs were like jello; he realized he was not even standing up on his own power; she was holding him up. As their lips touched he felt himself on the precipice of an ecstasy beyond anything he had ever imagined; he needed only to move a little further, a little deeper into her. But just as that was about to happen she drew back, like she always did at this point. Then she moved her head back and forth in a gesture that said no. And when he reached for her, she was gone.
12
Clad in a T-shirt and a pair of short sweat pants, Kanye sat at the foot of the bed, remote in hand, trying to find something to watch before turning in for the night. This would be his last night at the motel. His last night at any motel, chasing Jack Horn around, tracking his movements, planning to kill him. He had made up his mind. He was leaving tomorrow morning. Leaving the town of Silverton, leaving this mission, and leaving the church he had served for twenty years. He would have left tonight, but he had a slight headache and he preferred driving during the day.
There was a knock at the door—a soft, almost apologetic tapping, as if the person really didn’t want to bother him. That was good; he didn’t want to be bothered. He walked over to the door and opened it. Standing before him was a beautiful young woman in a sliver robe, cinched at the waist, holding a bottle of wine. She had a purse slung around her shoulder. She was black, like him, with a gorgeous mane of white hair that flowed gently down her shoulders and neck. She had sparkling turquoise eyes, full lips, and skin like glass. On her feet were diamond encrusted slippers that matched the color of her robe, and in her hair, a few inches above her left ear, a solitary short stemmed flower.
For a moment Kanye could not breath; he just stood there, mouth agape, staring at this heavenly vision. She smiled at him, revealing pearly white teeth that glistened marvelously against the backdrop of her black skin. “Got a little something for you,”