03Rise of the Beast, page 39
Leland nodded as he headed for the door. He had a difficult journey ahead, yet he knew he had started down this road himself. Now he’d have to complete it.
By the time September had arrived, Lusan was on the road again. This time his travels took him to Europe. He was met like a champion of the people. In Berlin, a small and quiet demonstration by a group of local Christians protesting Lusan’s arrival turned violent as counterprotesters clashed with them. Within minutes, 37 people, mostly the demonstrating Christian’s, lay dead in the street. Public opinion had turned against them, and it was getting worse.
The mob had crossed the line, and they would cross it still further. Before the evening was through, they would burn churches and drag known Christians from their homes, beating them to death. Some would fight back, yet this only fanned the flames. Not since 1938 on the night of broken glass, had the likes of this been seen. Before order was restored, the death toll had soared to over a thousand.
In an impassioned speech, the new European Union president spoke with regret of the incident in Berlin. He asked the people of Europe to be tolerant. Yet at the same time, he spoke against a policy of hate, and he openly stated that the source of that hate was these evangelical Christians.
Europe, Germany in particular, had seen this whole thing before. Nearly a hundred years ago, in the midst of rising anti-Semitism, the value of the life of a Jew had become tragically cheap. They had become the focus point for a beaten-down nation’s frustration and wrath. Now, with the memories of the great, global meltdown still fresh in the memories of the people, it was happening again. Humanity’s memory was short indeed.
To the man of reason, the parallels were undeniable. The problem was—men of reason were in short supply these days. Now with over half of the people of Europe in Lusan’s camp, things were likely to grow worse. Things were little better in Latin America and Asia. Despite China’s efforts to stem the growing madness, its people revered Lusan’s words over the rhetoric of the party. Christians there had become used to being treated with something less than respect, but now matters were worse.
Yet in England, the United States, and a few other smaller hold-out nations of the world, Lusan’s message was met with skepticism. And these were the same places where another breed of miracle was being felt. These nations were in the midst of a Christian revival. Yes, Lusan had a hold in these nations, but it was not as great as in the rest of the world, and in some places he was starting to lose ground. In the American South and Midwest, there was a revival in progress like none the nation had ever seen. In the Middle East, another sort of rebellion against Lusan was taking place. Elements within the world of Islam were also rebelling against Lusan, though this rebellion took on a distinctly more belligerent flavor. Lusan was not bringing peace to the world. Clearly, the world was on a collision course with disaster.
Through the whole thing Leland was there, crunching the numbers from his office, gathering the information that might one day expose Lusan for what he truly was. And watching him every step of the way was Krissie. On the outside, she seemed so much like she had once been. The demon within her was doing a better job these days. At times she even seemed loving and caring, almost like herself, and for a time, Leland could forget what she had become.
Yet all too quickly, she could turn around and speak of the Christian blight on society. She spoke of the wonders that might be accomplished in their absence. Perhaps isolating or confining them was the answer. Perhaps more radical means of neutralizing them might be justified. It was language that seemed so foreign coming from her lips. When she spoke like that, Leland found ways to be out of the house.
And his grandmother appeared to him in his dreams. Through her, he knew that Krissie was safe, at least for the moment. That knowledge helped him focus upon what had to be done in the here and now.
Leland gathered information about Lusan, damning information. He passed it on to Pastor Smith who saw that it, in turn, was passed on to the proper authorities. Leland longed for an end to it all. Someone had to stand in Lusan’s way. He only prayed that someone would step forward soon.
Detective Strom and Lieutenant Stoddard sat across the desk from the commissioner in his downtown office. The commissioner was still pondering the pile of documents set before him.
“You’re serious,” he finally said. “You want to charge this Andre Lusan with murder, accomplice to murder, money laundering, racketeering, and being in this country illegally. Have I left anything out?”
“Attempted kidnapping,” said Strom.
“Oh,” said the commissioner, “I missed that one.” He leaned back in his chair. “My god, man, do you have any idea how well connected this guy is? I mean, he might as well be the Pope.”
“We can prove every charge,” said Stoddard. “Detective Strom has been working on this case for years. He and his family were nearly killed over it. This Lusan is a menace. No, he is even worse than that.”
“From what you’re saying, you’d think that he was the Devil himself,” noted the commissioner.
Strom practically bit his tongue to keep from saying something foolish. No, he wouldn’t hurt his case, not now.
There was a pause. “Look, I don’t like this guy either,” said the commissioner. “I’m a good Catholic. I go to mass every Sunday, but I sense something spiritually wrong with this guy. My priest tries to be politically correct, but he senses it too.” Again there was a pause. “I’m sticking my head way out on this one, but I’ll authorize it. Arresting the most popular religious figure since Jesus Christ—it almost makes me look like Caiaphas, doesn’t it?”
“No,” said Strom. “You’re doing the right thing. Your children and grandchildren will thank you.”
The commissioner shook his head. “My own son follows this guy. He thinks that Lusan is some kind of saint. I’ll let history be my judge. Go ahead, do the paperwork; pick him up, but do it by the numbers, by the book.”
“Yes sir,” said Stoddard, as he and Strom rose to their feet. They headed out the door, through the secretary’s office, and down the hall.
“Thanks, Lieutenant,” said Strom, “I owe you big time.”
“For what?” asked Stoddard. “It was good police work, some of the best I’ve ever seen. You’ve got your ducks in a row, Bill. Lusan is guilty all right. It will be interesting to see how he rules this spiritual empire of his from behind bars.”
Lusan offered up no fight as he was escorted from the Davidson building in handcuffs. Despite every effort to make this as quiet an arrest as possible, an array of reporters were on hand just outside the main door. All were anxious to get a piece of the biggest story of the year.
Lusan was quickly led to the back of a squad car and was whisked away. There was no time for questions and only a fleeting moment for photos. There was rejoicing, crying, and even violence in the streets that afternoon.
By the following day, the news had spread to every corner of the world. In France, protests in front of the American Embassy turned into a rock-and-bottle throwing exhibition. In other European nations, the protests and violence against America and American citizens escalated.
When Lusan’s bail was denied by a New York court, the outcries against America grew even louder. The European Union’s President Julien Devereux spoke out angrily against the arrest of Andre Lusan, calling it an act of Christian American imperialism. He demanded the immediate release of Lusan.
All the while, Lusan sat in his cell on Riker’s Island, a model prisoner, enjoying the show. His enemies had fallen into the trap. They had sewn the wind; now they would reap the whirlwind.
The issue of Andre Lusan was no longer a city issue or even a state issue. It had become an international incident. A week of political bickering and legal wrangling ensued as some of the nation’s best lawyers hopped on either side of the argument. In the end, it was politics that decided Lusan’s fate and not legal precedence. Neither the City of New York nor the United States could afford to put Lusan on trial, and as it turned out, the Country of France filed a request for extradition. It provided the American president with a way out of this political quicksand. She urged the powers that be to deport Lusan, to turn him over to the French authorities.
Ten days after his arrest, he was on his way from New York to Paris, in the custody of the French authorities, with first-class flying accommodations. He was greeted like a returning hero upon his arrival in Paris. A day later, he was cleared of any charges in France. He was free to continue his crusade in the place where his support was the greatest.
The Divine Light Foundation’s offices in New York would be closed, and his offices in Paris would become the center of his spiritual empire. There was no purpose in having the capital of his empire in such a closed-minded and hostile nation as America. He would deal with her people soon enough.
Leland was clearing his desk in his office when he got an unexpected visitor. “Mr. Pagoni,” said Leland rising to his feet.
Pagoni smiled broadly. “How are you doing my boy? It has been too long since we last talked. Please, sit down. The way you jumped to your feet, you’d have thought that his holiness had just entered the room.”
Leland couldn’t help but laugh at Mr. Pagoni’s comment. He quickly pulled up a chair for his landlord and his friend.
“Bad business, all of this,” said Pagoni sitting down across the table from Leland. “Will you be leaving us?”
“Yes sir,” said Leland. “That’s my understanding, anyway. Word is that I’ll be relocating to Paris.”
“Such a shame,” said Pagoni, “and your lovely wife, too?”
“Yes,” replied Leland.
Pagoni hesitated. “Leland, this is really none of my business. I am, after all, just the landlord. But something has been bothering me. I see a lot of Krissie in the conducting of my business. I’ve gotten to know her pretty well. Quite honestly, she has become almost like a daughter to me, the daughter I never had. I know that must sound overly sentimental, even foolish.”
“No, sir, not at all,” replied Leland. “I can understand completely.”
Pagoni chuckled, placing his hand on Leland’s. “Yes, I suppose you can. But she has me worried. Ever since she came back from that island, she’s been different. Oh, she doesn’t look any different, at least not until you look into her eyes. They’re so empty, Leland. I don’t know how to describe it other than that.”
That caught Leland by surprise. Still, he said nothing.
“The two of you are getting along all right, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” confirmed Leland. “It’s only that …”
“Only what?” asked Pagoni.
“She changed after the island,” said Leland.
“Leland, she has changed,” confirmed Pagoni, “and not for the better.” Again he paused. “Leland, I’ve known you since you were just a boy. I know now that something is troubling you. It has been for a long time. There is something you’re not telling me, something that I really should know. Leland, I’m on your side, I always have been. What’s wrong?”
By now there were tears coming to Leland’s eyes. He’d hidden his emotions for so long, but his willpower was at an end. He began to tell Mr. Pagoni the story. He told him everything. Pagoni turned out to be a good listener.
“Leland, if almost anyone else had come to me with a story like that, I would have called him a liar or worse, but not you. No, I believe you. Anyway, I’ve seen too many strange things this last year. I’m actually glad to see Lusan leave, the loss of a profitable tenant notwithstanding. I never did feel comfortable around him. Now I know why. But why go to Paris with him, to save your wife?”
“Yes,” confirmed Leland.
“From what you’ve told me, I think you can do more for her here,” continued Pagoni. “Look, I have a plan. I want you to stay here in New York and work with me. I’ll make it an official request to Lusan. That will give us time to sort this whole thing out. The Holy Mother Church is in jeopardy, and I won’t abandon her. Nor shall I abandon you and Krissie. You’re a part of the family, as far as I’m concerned, and family sticks together.”
Leland managed a slight smile. “You’ve always been good to me, Mr. Pagoni, thank you. Okay, I’ll stay and work with you.”
“Good,” said Pagoni. “You know, there have been things I’ve done in my life that I’m not particularly proud of. I fear I’ll have a lot to answer for on Judgment Day. Maybe it’s time to clear the slate. Maybe it’s time to fight on the side of God.”
CHAPTER 23
The Herschel spacecraft glided silently a mere 4,000 miles above Jupiter’s clouds of orange and yellow. It was just one minute from the closest approach to the planet. It was picking up ever more velocity even as it stole a portion of the mighty planet’s momentum for itself. Right now it was being bombarded mercilessly by intense alpha and beta radiation, the penalty for its theft. This was the most dangerous aspect of the mission. If too many of those particles were to get through its shielding, hit a circuit in just the wrong place, the mission might well end there. Abruptly the craft was shaken by the roar of its main engine. Its velocity increased even more.
At mission control, they monitored the craft’s progress. Everything was going as planned. At 13:42 hours the computer shut the engines down right on schedule. A few minutes later they had confirmation; they were right on course, and no further course corrections would be needed.
Dr. Sam Florence gazed approvingly at the telemetry on the screen before him. Once again, their hastily assembled spacecraft had performed beyond their expectations. They still had to pass through several hundred thousand miles of Jupiter’s radiation belts. They weren’t out of the woods just yet. Still they were hopeful. The most difficult maneuvers were behind them, and at the speed the spacecraft was moving, it would clear the worst of the radiation belts in a matter of hours.
Right now they were about a quarter of a million miles behind the comet, closing the distance at a rate of about 20,000 miles a day. Up to this point the comet had been incredibly calm—no gas eruptions, no odd changes in course due to venting, and no surprises. That was the way he wanted it, a quiet comet that would be positively dull if it weren’t passing so close.
Their computations of its path had been right on. There was a zero percent chance of the comet hitting Earth. In reality, it would pass closer to the moon than the Earth, missing old Luna by a mere 40,000 miles. It would be an astronomer’s dream come true. In the night sky they would see a comet with its enormous tail stretching across the gibbous moon. What a sight that would be.
It was mid-afternoon when the spacecraft returned the closest view of the comet to date. It still lacked a tail, and only a faint trace of an atmosphere enshrouded the almost naked rock and ice. Their view would steadily improve until they maneuvered into orbit 13 days from now. Then they could begin mapping this dirty snowball from the depths of the solar system. The stress associated with the impending fear of a collision had passed. Now the team could concentrate on the science. It promised to be an exciting couple of years as they followed the comet through the inner solar system and back out into the darkness.
Sam couldn’t help but smile. If there had never been a danger of collision, this mission surely would not have been funded. Now, as it was, they would conduct the most detailed study of a large comet ever undertaken. Tonight he would have a mountain of data to analyze. He would love every minute of it.
“I wish you didn’t have to stay behind,” said Krissie as she prepared to head through security at JFK International.
“I don’t have a choice, love,” said Leland. “There’s a mountain of paperwork to go through. Mr. Pagoni insists on getting it all cleared away before closing the books on this place. He’s been awful good to us, you know.”
“That’s a matter of opinion, I suppose,” said Krissie. “He made a fistful of money on this deal.”
Leland held his peace. The real Krissie really loved Mr. Pagoni. She would never have said such a thing.
“How long will you be here straightening up this mess?” asked Krissie.
“Oh, Krissie, I don’t know,” admitted Leland. “It could be a month, maybe more. I don’t like it any more than you do, but it has to be done.”
“I suppose,” said Krissie. “You’ll call a lot, right?”
“Right,” confirmed Leland.
The two kissed. Leland tried to imagine that this was the real Krissie, but it was tough to do today. She was in one of her moods. A moment later she was off down the jet way. He stood there until he could see her no more. Then he was on his way home. It was a long drive this afternoon; traffic was particularly slow.
Leland had pulled into his parking space below his condo and was on his way to the elevator when he saw a man in a dark suit.
“Hey Leland, over here,” said the rather large man.
Leland recognized him immediately; he was one of Pagoni’s men. He smiled. “Hello, Carlo.”
“Leland, no questions, just follow me, OK?” said Carlo, pointing toward a dark-colored sports car.
“Sure,” said Leland following his lead. A moment later they had pulled onto Central Park West. “What’s up Carlo?”
Carlo smiled. “Sorry about the cloak and dagger stuff, Leland, but something has come up. It wouldn’t be a good idea for you to go into your condo right now, at least not without being prepared.”
Leland was confused. “Prepared for what?”
Carlo made the turn onto 97th Street, heading toward the river. “Mr. Pagoni had a bad feeling about it so he had some of the guys check out your condo, looking for bugs, and I don’t mean the kind with six legs. They went over it from top to bottom; they found four. There was one in your bedroom, one in the living room, one in your study, and one in the dining room. Whoever put them there was pretty good—they were the high-tech kind, and they were hard to find. They were all microphones, no video cameras. That at least was a break.”
