I, Judas the 5th Gospel (5 page)

A tall black man wearing a colorful robe walked over to the technician in response to his inadvertent remark. “Mister Kopec, you must never doubt God’s will.”

Kopec turned from his computer, head down. “I am sorry, Reverend Abaku. I did not mean to doubt God’s will, but rather our ability to do what has been commanded in the time left. The test last year did not work perfectly.” He pointed at the screen. “Yes, the launch is soon and the last component will be in place, but we planned on at least a month of system testing before it could be operational.”

Abaku grabbed a chair and pulled it next to Kopec. The other technicians in the room turned back to their computers.

Kopec continued in a hurried voice. He was not used to talking to humans, but rather communicating with a machine through a keyboard. “We’ve tested on lab animals here and it seems we’ve fixed the problem. But we need at least one test on humans before broadcasting widely. And we’re talking about bouncing the signals for the Great Commission over much longer distances and at much greater strengths. That adds an element of uncertainty to what we were certain about on a small scale.”

Abaku reached out and with a long, black finger tapped the red envelope. “They asked me to pick one of my staff for the Wrath. I choose you. I know you feel as if you are being dismissed from the team, but this mission you are going on is very, very important. As important as the transmission of the Great Commission. You have made great theoretical contributions, particularly early on when we struggled greatly with the science.”

Abaku patted Kopec on the shoulder. “Now, though, things are less theoretical and more practical. It is on other shoulders to do what we must in the next few days. And as you note, the last component will be in place shortly. Time to check things out certainly would have been of great benefit, but we must trust that the work you and the others did, aided by God’s hand, will work.”

“There is the issue of using the new transmitter.” Kopec wasn’t backing off so easily. “And—” he lowered his voice and glanced around to make sure no one else was in earshot—“the briefcase you want me to take. I don’t see why I need that. It is not part of the Great Commission.”

Abaku leaned close to his young assistant. “It’s our ace in the hole, so to speak, for
your
mission. It’s why
you
are going. Any fool can handle a satellite radio. I want you there in case the Dark One proves more powerful than the guns others will be carrying.”

“It takes two to use the transmitter,” Kopec said. “Who would be the other?”

“Father DiSalvo is aware of what’s needed. You will assist him in all that he asks. And you will obey the will of the Brotherhood.”

Kopec bowed his head in shame. “I am sorry to have questioned your reasoning.”

“There are things that have to be kept secret until the last moment,” Abaku said. He slapped the other man on the back. “You must believe in us. We will succeed. And we must believe that you and the team you are on will succeed as well. It is all part of the great plan.”

Kopec nodded. “I will do my best.”

“I know you will.”

“But—“

Abaku frowned. “Yes?”

Kopec grabbed the mouse and clicked on a small box on the bottom of the screen. The image changed from numbers to a video feed of six people in a cell. There were three men and three women. Various races and ages. What they all had in common was the terrified look on their face. “The test subjects. What if it doesn’t work according to specs? What if—“

“They are in God’s hands.”

“But we devised the technology,” Kopec argued. “Doesn’t that make it
our
responsibility?”

“You were the one who just told me your concerns about the transmission,” Abaku pointed out. “We’ll run a test on them to make sure one last time that the project is not dangerous.” Abaku reached past Kopec and clicked on the mouse, shutting down the view of the holding cell. He nodded toward the passage on the wall. “Note that there were only eleven disciples there for our Lord’s tasking of the Great Commission. You have the honor of going after the infamous twelfth. The Great Betrayer of our Lord. Don’t you feel privileged?”

Kopec nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“If you and Father DiSalvo succeed, you will save many a considerable amount of suffering. It’s time for you to be going.”

Kopec stood up. “Thank you, Reverend.”

“Go with God,” Abaku said as Kopec left. When the younger man left the lab, Abaku spent a long time staring at the door with a troubled look on his face.

New York City

“They’re going to test the Mission again.”

Brunswick rubbed his eyes, the effort wasted on the redness that resulted from having been up all night. He looked up at Thornton who had brought this news. “Of course they’ll test it. They’re not madmen.”

“We can’t allow that,” Thornton said. “Even if the test is successful, it will be very different when they try to do it on a worldwide scale.”

Brunswick sighed but didn’t say anything. The Mission location and project had been discovered over two years ago, and Illuminati agents had done as much intelligence gathering as possible without direct confrontation with the Brotherhood. The Pax between the two groups that had existed for millennia had not been breached.

“The line between this thing sending a signal and being a weapon or simply malfunctioning is so narrow,” Thornton continued, “that I don’t think we can take a chance on it. The Brotherhood could end up killing everyone on the planet before the Intruder even hits.”

Pierce spoke for the first time. “Would that necessarily be a bad thing?”

Thornton ignored him, keeping his focus on Brunswick. “And even if the Brotherhood does send their message, it’s propaganda on a global scale.”

“And if we can’t stop or divert the Intruder?” Pierce asked. “What does it matter?”

Thornton twisted in his chair and acknowledged Pierce. “So we should do nothing? Let the Brotherhood spread their lies and manipulate people? Possibly destroy the mind of every person on the planet with their transmitter? We know the Mission is dangerous. We know the Brotherhood did test it as a weapon, besides preparing it as the vehicle for their Great Commission. The Brotherhood extends the word of God with one hand, but always remember they keep a dagger hidden in the other to slay those that oppose them.”

Brunswick still said nothing. There were reasons why the Illuminati was run by a Triumvirate. There would never be a stalemate in decision-making. A majority always ruled. Furthermore, for security reasons, the Illuminati worked in cell structures of three, branching down through the ranks. Each man in this room had three underlings, whose identity only they knew. Each underling had three under them, that only they knew, and so on all the way to the lowest levels. Thus, any member of the Illuminati could only expose themselves, the two members of their cell, and their link, either up or down. It was a tried and effective method of compartmentalization that had been used throughout the ages.

“What is the Intruder?” Pierce asked Thornton.

“What?” Thornton was confused for a moment. “It’s obviously an asteroid.”

“That appeared out of nowhere?” Pierce pressed.

“We don’t search the skies that thoroughly,” Thornton argued. “I’ve consulted with some of my best people and they say it had to have been there, coming toward us, for a long time. It just wasn’t spotted until yesterday.”

Pierce gave a wan smile. “
Your
best scientists, correct?”

“Who else would I ask about an object in space?”

“Has it ever occurred to you that scientists often extrapolate their results from insufficient data and then call their results facts, when they are best just guesses?”

“So you think it’s this Wormwood?” Thornton’s voice took an edge. “God’s wrath coming to punish us and separate those who believe from the rest? Perhaps we should repent our sins and be saved?”

“I’m open-minded enough to consider it a possibility.” Pierce held up a hand to forestall Thornton’s angry retort. “But, no, I don’t think it’s Wormwood as described in Revelations. I do, however, believe in God, a greater power, whatever you want to call it, but the God I believe in would not send something like Wormwood to destroy us.”

“So what do you think it is?” Thornton was not appeased.

Pierce shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“All right.” Brunswick cut in. “Let’s not get off track. We don’t have the time to sit around and have philosophical discussions.”

“I disagree,” Pierce said. “I think this is the perfect time to do exactly that. It’s something we should have done a long time ago.”

“No,” Brunswick insisted, “we
don’t
have the time. The priority is still to work with the confederation of nations that are trying to figure out how to stop or deflect this thing. As far as the Brotherhood and the Mission, I say we end that problem with extreme sanction.”

“I agree,” Thornton immediately said, ending the issue.

Pierce did not protest or argue, knowing there was no point.

Atlanta: The Doctor

“There is always a chance,” the short, Asian doctor said to the waiting family, much to the chagrin of his fellow surgeon. They were both dressed in their scrubs, the green material stained with sweat, an indicator of the efforts they had been exerting for the past two hours.

“Doctor Lee, with all due respect, there is no brain activity.” The other surgeon turned to the parents of the child whose body now lay on a table behind the doors the surgeons had just come out of. Parents were always the hardest. “Your son might live, in the state he is in, for years. But his brain will never come back. Even if he somehow came out of this coma, which is extremely unlikely, he will not be the person you remember. He has, and will have, no awareness.”

The husband and wife looked from one surgeon to the other, distraught and confused. It was all too sudden. They’d arrived at the hospital only thirty minutes earlier, after receiving the terrifying phone call about their son’s motorcycle accident. Until these two men dressed in green had appeared, they’d received little information from the hospital staff other than that their son had been seriously injured and was in emergency surgery.

Doctor Lee noticed the crucifix dangling from a chain around the mother’s neck. “Might I ask what your religious affiliation is?”

“Doctor Lee,” the other surgeon said in a warning tone.

“I’m Catholic,” the mother said.

“Then this is no issue,” Doctor Lee said. He leaned close, looking like he was putting a hand on her shoulder for comfort, but actually so that only the mother could hear what he was about to say. “You will be committing a mortal sin if you have the life support turned off. You will burn in hell.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Lee saw the Jesuit coming down the hallway. As the other surgeon began talking about the importance of organ donation, Lee turned and walked away from the stunned woman.

“The Wrath of God,” Lee greeted Father DiSalvo.

“I am God’s Warrior,” DiSalvo acknowledged.

“I also serve God,” Lee said. When he saw the red envelope that DiSalvo had pulled out of his robe, Lee felt an electric charge pass through his body, almost orgasmic in nature. The parents, the young man still in the operating room, all were forgotten. “Finally,” Lee whispered as he took the envelope.

DiSalvo put out a hand, stopping Lee from immediately opening the envelope. “Remember, Doctor, that my mission takes priority. I will help you as much as possible, but you must remember the greater good.”

“I always answer to God,” Lee said, “and as we are God’s Wrath, I will remember my place and my task.”

Jerusalem: The Scholar

“Doctor Hyland?” The two words echoed through the stone chamber, startling the young officer who had uttered them. The way he said the name indicated he very much doubted that he had been directed to the right person by the old rabbi who’d escorted him down here. The lieutenant was dressed in full combat kit, automatic weapon slung over his shoulder, a not uncommon sight in the Old City of Jerusalem.

“I prefer ‘Professor.’”

“I need you to come with me. Immediately.”

“A ‘please’ would be polite.”

Professor Hyland slowly stood and the soldier backed up a step, surprised that he suddenly had to look up into her eyes. At four inches over six feet, Hyland was used to that reaction. She was also used to, but did not enjoy, the officer’s skepticism that she was what her title claimed. She looked like she would have been completely at home on the beach in California competing in volleyball, which was exactly what she had done while completing her dissertation. The athletic scholarship had paid for the learning, which she had considered an interesting trade-off.

She waited for the third usual reaction from men, which would be his eyes raking from her braided blonde hair down her tall, lean body, but she had to give him credit; he kept his eyes locked on hers.

“Professor Hyland,” he corrected, drawing the first word out. “Please. Would you accompany me? You have been summoned. There is a private jet waiting for you at the airport.” He held out something in his left hand.