Of Kings and Demons (30 page)

He nodded at Boris Komorov, who
was dressed in dark suit and black tie. He looked solemn and his smile was
chill, as usual. His presence signified his support for his campaign and his
promise to resolve the Maxi Oil debacle.

However these commitments had come with a price tag.
Victor Palmer had once shuddered when he thought of fulfilling them. He will,
in the future, think of ways and means to fulfill the promises he made in their
deal. A deal, some deal.

However, that will be a problem for the future. In the
days ahead, he will fight with all his life to secure the Republican nomination
for president. For now, he would just like to bask in the limelight, the moment
of his life as candidate for the presidency of the United States of America.

                                            #

Capitol Hill

The sun had returned and the wind blew. The
snow and heavy overcast that had dominated the skyline had become a thing of
the past. It was a pleasant day to spend outdoors and Walter Johnson could not
have a better ally for the critical moment of his life.

Walter was glad he returned to the Capitol
to make his announcement. The act symbolized his determination and fighting
spirit, the refusal to bow to fear and intimidation of the dark side.

On the lawn in front of the Capitol Hill,
the spot when the night before saw intense fighting, journalists and camera
crew packed the space, jostling for the best point to capture the moment. There
was a small crowd, gathered by his staff and they were waving cards and
banners. The stage was a simple structure, unbecoming but dignified. On the
central banner was a nice logo etched against the background of red and
white—‘Johnson for President’ it shouted. At nine o’clock sharp, amidst cheers
of “Walter, Walter for President,” the man they had rooted for finally took
centre stage.

He was his usual self—modestly dressed but
sprightly and he offered small hand waves and a bright grin. His grayish hair
was swept backwards, peaking over a round forehead. Vintage Johnson.

He looked around him at the cheering crowd and the awaiting press corps
to his right, then he saw his old friend, Robin Ballard. The consultant gave a
wink, the familiar gesture.

Walter remembered Robin’s wink from when
the man had persuaded him to run for governor.
Where would he be without
Ballard?

After the crowd obliged his hands for
quiet, Walter took a deep breath and spoke, hands clenched.

“There comes a time in our history when a
man has to make decision that will change the lives of his fellow Americans for
the better,” he began. “I believe that moment has come. I have chosen to come
back here …” Walter paused has he surveyed the silent crowd. “… to return to
the place where the foundation was built for the all the good things that have
happened to my family; this is where my father received the education that
changed him, and changed me. It was here that he was imbued with the sense of
duty, and he passed that to me. Nothing else feels like home.”

The audience applauded wildly, then became
silent again.

“Education made it possible for us to forge
a formidable future. It is through education that we understand the trials of
our forebears. It was their sacrifice that made it possible for our nation be
the greatest in the history of human civilization. It was by their good grace
that I, like many others, have the honour to serve this country. Education is
what makes America great. This explains my lifelong commitment to education.”

A round of robust applause was followed by
undiminished chants of “Walter, Walter.” The volume rose with each mention of
his name. Walter stilled the raucous crowd with a raised hand, a commander
calming his faithfuls.

“I had the honour to serve this country for
the past twenty years. Given a chance to re-live my life, I would respond to
that call of duty again. I intend to live the rest of my life in service of my
beloved nation.”

“Our country is at the crossroads of
history,” he continued. “There are wars in the Middle East, where religion has
turned into an excuse for violence instead of a reason for love and respect.
Rogue states continue to trample on the universal values of democracy and
freedom.

“The global economy is experiencing
earthshaking upheavals and our continued support of the financial system is
required. Our allies looked to our leadership. The burden is heavy and the
challenges are daunting. However, as President Franklin Roosevelt once
proclaimed, “There is nothing to fear except fear itself.”

Walter’s speech was interrupted by another
round of cheers which he acknowledged with a wave. He felt himself again, the
accomplished man from the Eastern seaboard; the wise and competent Republican.
To
think only three days earlier, I wanted to give up all the offices and with it
the dreams and sacrifice of half century. I have found the renewed faith in my
destiny. Found the wings to glide to a higher plane of achievement.

“What do we do now?” Walter asked aloud. He
repeated the question and pounded the lectern with a fist.

The crowd remained silent. “We could just
sit and watch, and let someone else do the job,” he went on. “However, that is
not the American way. That is not my way and it is not yours. We answer the
call of destiny. We will serve this country with courage, faith and integrity.
We stand proud.”

Applause again erupted from the crowd, and
Walter could see the smiles on many, including Robin. He did not look back but
was sure Penelope, standing behind him, was also smiling.

Walter Johnson acknowledged the crowd with
another wave. Then he took a deep breath and spoke “And so I stand here in
front of you today ready to take that pledge to serve and lead. I am ready to
declare that I, Walter Edmund Johnson, will run for the presidency of the
United States of America.”

Cheers and applause drowned the lawn and
everybody was soaked with euphoria and optimism. The press was busy with their
pens as the cameras clicked away. Walter looked to the crowd and delivered a
series of his trademark salute-style acknowledgements—the gesture of a commanding
leader, and a King of Men.

#

Overlooking the lawn from across the
street, in a park, Gwyneth and Jin sat on a branch of an overarching tree.
Invisible to the mortals’ eyes, they watched the conference with intense interest.

“He did it,” Jin said.

Gwyneth turned to Jin and asked. “You
believed that he would take up the challenge?”

“When I left the governor’s mansion, I did
not have the impression that he would,” Jin replied.

“Like those Kings before him, courage and
faith runs in his blood,” Gwyneth said and smiled.

“I was worried he would give up,” Jin said.
“I am glad he had proved me wrong.”

“There is nothing an Angel can do to an
unwilling King, and nothing a Demon could do to stop a determined King,”
Gwyneth whispered. She looked skyward. “Our job is done here.”

“I am not so sure of that,” Jin said as he
looked around.

“The end of the beginning?” Gwyneth asked.

“Barbatos’s audacity was only their first
move. I believe Lucifer will make his next move soon.”

“Maybe they already had,” Gwyneth muttered.

“Are you alright?”

“What do you mean, Jin? I am healed by Lord
Michael and good as I look.”

“I mean…Barbatos. Are you fine after
witnessing his demise? It has been so long since both of you see each other and
this is the ending.”

Gwyneth lowered her head for moment. She
looked at Jin, expressionless.

“My feelings for him are no longer
important. The fault lines between the two domains, Heaven and Hell has been
more pronounced after this battle. My relationship with Darius is no longer of
consequence. We should worry about their next move.”

J in nodded “I respect your position. Whatever your choices, I stand with
you.”

Gwyneth patted Jin on his shoulder. Their
dialogue was soon interrupted by the shrill whistle of wings gliding through
the air. Eugene landed on the branch.

“Greetings.”

“Eugene, certainly not the junior,” Jin and
Gwyneth quipped in unison.

“By God’s grace, both of you glow with
victory.”

“So do you,” Jin remarked. “Singlehandedly
defeated a company of gargoyles and possessing the brilliance to summon the
Custodians of Congress, you have outshone us.”

“Nobody can outshine the warriors who
defeated Lord Barbatos.”

“The Archangel did that.”

“That fact does not diminish your feat,”
Eugene said. He was distracted and checked his surroundings.

“Where is Maganus?”

“He has gone to Alastair,” Jin replied

“And where is Alastair?”

“Iraq, Baghdad, where I heard there was
crisis,” Jin answered and turned to Gwyneth. “Do you know what Maganus is up
to?”

Gwyneth locked her eyes on Jin’s, and they
understood immediately. Their chemistry had been perfected after centuries of
working together. Words are not always necessary.

“Maganus cleaned up and took his body, without informing me. I had not
seen it since the evening of the battle.”

“Am I missing something here?” Eugene
asked, lost in the telepathic communication of his seniors.

“Maganus wanted to resurrect someone that
died during the battle with Barbatos,” Gwyneth explained.

Eugene lowered his head. “Such heart and
grace. Always Maganus.”

“Yes. Actually, he needed Alastair in
soliciting the assistance of Azrael,” Gwyneth added.

“Resurrection of a human will not be easy.
Azrael has a strong temper,” Jin said.

Gwyneth nodded. “His choices are limited. Only the Archangel Azrael can
resurrect the dead; a body cold for more than seven hours or death under
violent circumstances. He died in battle.”

“Maganus took Mathew’s death gravely,” Jin
said. “He had witnessed so much death already, lives wasted, potential ruined,
and future altered.”

“That makes Maganus, Maganus. He takes
everyone, everything personally,” Eugene said.  

“After centuries of witnessing deaths and
separation, Maganus has grown the equanimity to handle the affairs of man,”
Gwyneth said. “He was a giant but in that short period, Maganus had built a
bond with Mathew Springs that I found unusual but understandable. They had been
through incredibly difficult challenges over just three days. We have to look
to the future now.”

“What happened to Sarah?” Jin asked.

“I left her with her father.”

“A deserving reunion after ten years of
separation,” Jin said.

“I hope she enjoys the moment.”

“Has protection been arranged for her?”

“The Bellators shall take turns watching
over her.”

“That is reassuring. The Demons will be
back,” Jin warned in a grim tone.

“We will be ready.” Gwyneth asserted as
their attention returned to the lawn, where the press conference had ended and
Governor Walter Johnson was busy the press.

“We will be ready this time. Let them
come.”

Gwyneth stared into the distance with a grave
silence.

“O Son of the Republic,”
the woman’s voice flowed like music.

George Washington remained on his knees.

“My old friend,” she added.

“Gwyneth, my trusted friend,” General
Washington whispered. His clasped in deep worship. “Words fail me but my deepest
joy in seeing you again.”

“You have aged.” The White Angel murmured.

The General broke down. “The pressures of
the past few weeks have reached a breaking point.”

“ I sensed your heart is under much
duress.”

“I have fared poorly, Gwyneth.”

“Son of the Republic, you have done well.
Do not forsake faith and give in to

despair.”

“I am exhausted.”

Gwyneth smiled

“There are tasks awaiting you in the years
ahead.”

“Years ahead?” Washington murmured. His
dream of retirement on his farm at Mount Vernon had filled his mind. “You are
not teasing me, Gwyneth?”

The White Angel smiled as her aura of light
increased. “I am not.”     

Washington blew the deep sigh of a man with
the weight of new-born nation on his

shoulders. “I cannot imagine that there are more years ahead.”

“Have faith. Great are your achievements,
my friend. You have already done humanity a great service.”

“Great? Enemies aplenty - both within and
without. I felt I failed. I wish to return to Virginia—to do what I am best at,
being a farmer.” Washington pronounced.

Gwyneth smiled. “Rest, you will get in due
course. However, retirement is not your due yet.”

General Washington’s eyes widened with
disbelief. The Guardian Angel continued. “Your mission is not over. Your true
destiny is about to begin.”

“Not over?” Washington was dismayed. “After
the risk of life and limb, you are not going to release me from my toils? My
bones will be exposed sooner.”

“Go gentle, George,” she said and beckoned
him to sit.

        “I have been imprudent,” General Washington said and inhaled. “I
ask for your forgiveness.”

“King of Men, no man is perfect.”

The White Angel sat next to General
Washington.

“My child, hear your destiny. Hear it as I
had told you during your moments of crisis. Hear it again, now.”

“I am too weary. The burden of a leader
requires strong shoulders, which I have not.”

Gwyneth smiled and Washington hastened to remark, “You knew about it,
don’t you? The crisises, now and more to come. They were all planned by the
Almighty?”

“All the trials and tribulations are part
of the process of being a King. I mentioned this to you. You have the duty to
raise you men above the bigotry and selfishness that had gripped Europe.”

“You might need a better man for the
enormous mission.”

“If you fail now the future of the entire
human race is endangered.”

Washington was stumped. “I trust you are
not exaggerating.”

“Exaggeration is a sin, George.”

“I have no intention to accuse.”

Gwyneth continued

“If this nation is stillborn, then in one
century and half, the entire human race will fall to the Demons. Their hordes
will ferment wars and strife to strangle the growth of civilization. They will
corrupt the souls of every human, and bring onto the path to darkness. Dark
Ages return. You wish to see that?”

“Gwyneth, no I cannot bear that sight.”

“You can save humanity from these future
calamities by securing the present, George.”

The general straightened his back as
strength from the knowledge of his true destiny invigorated him.

“If you fail, humanity fails.”

“Gwyneth, heaven forbid …”

“You have the power to decide, George.”
Gwyneth reminded him.

George pondered him comment, his forehead
crumpled. “What should I do? They want to make me king. A real monarch, a
king.”

The words earned a smile from the White
Angel.

“You are still smiling. I am as good as
sitting on a bonfire.”

Gwyneth nodded and continued. “Why did you
fight this war?”

George mulled it over. “Gwyneth, I did it
for these lands, the future of these people, to liberate them from the tyranny of
those imperialists. Never again to fear for their property, their children, but
to have the freedom to learn and pursue the life they so desired and in God’s
grace was their alienable right …”

George Washington looked up but the White
Angel had vanished. Washington ruminated, and then gently slapped his forehead.
“I should be ashamed to have forgotten. For liberty of the human race, after so
much bloodshed and lives lost, am I going to reverse the sacrifices made?”
Washington murmured.

He strolled to the window and studied the
world outside, the calm and charm of nature.
Such peace, but it could have
been destroyed by the mayhem of war. Do they need another war now?

General Washington returned to his desk,
lifted his quill pen, and wrote in a forceful and furious fashion.
I will
lift the impasse and reverse the impending calamity.

I must not fail humanity.

-End of Book One-