The Demon Senders (13 page)

“Very good,” Stacy said. “I realize that the information I require may take some time for you to assemble, so my timeframe is flexible. It is more important that you fetch all of what I require rather than retrieve some of it in short order. Does that make sense?”

“Yes. Thoroughness is more crucial than timeliness.”

“But that does not mean that my patience is something to be taken for granted.”

“I understand and will make gathering whatever information you need my top priority until my task is complete, or you require something else.”

“You will do fine working for me…” Stacy said and then paused, fully expecting her aide to remind her of her name.

“My name is Jennifer,” the aide said, humbled. “Jennifer LaMore.”

“Jennifer. How nice. I’ve written the information I need on this sheet of paper,” Stacy said as she handed a neatly folded sheet of paper to her aide. “Commit the contents of that paper to memory as soon as possible, then shred it.”

As Jennifer slowly began to unfold the paper, the cell phone on Stacy’s desk vibrated softly. “This is the call I’ve been expecting. Please shut the door as you leave. I will give you the list of people I need you to arrange meetings with as soon as my call ends. Thank you.”

Jennifer made her way to the door, closed it behind her, and sat behind her small desk. Though she had been working for Congresswoman Stacy Flannigan for all of six days, the meeting she just had with the Congresswoman was her first. Having recently graduated from Georgetown with a degree in Political Science, she was elated when her father, a retired army General, was able to pull some strings and help her land the position as Associate to Congresswoman Flannigan. Though Jennifer had no political aspirations of her own, she wanted to get close to the action. Get some real-world experience and, possibly, move her way up in the non-elected government world.

She glanced at the note after ensuring that no one passing by her desk could steal a glance. Jennifer was excited about her first assignment and though her introduction to her boss was a bit unsettling, her desire to “do a bang up job,” as her father would say, was too strong to let first impressions sully her attitude. She read the note through once, twice, then furrowed her still wrinkle-free brow.

“What the fuck?” she whispered.

It had been so long. Too long, he thought. Surely, his promises and their lack of realization would cause those he led to question his position. The position he fought for. The position he longed for in his other life and offered in trade for something he had held so dear.

He felt no remorse for what he had done, for not only were his actions directed, they served a much higher purpose.

“Or rather, a much lower purpose,”
he chuckled to himself.

It had been over a year since he made the promise and the decision to assume a leadership position in order to follow another. And while that year was filled with a steady and appreciable climb towards the position he now held, still, a full year’s worth of exposure was a tremendous risk.

“I’m sure to be noticed,” he said to Henry.
 

“I have others in place whose jobs are very clear: Clear your path. You need to follow my instructions. Be smart, however, for I do not have the full oversight I will soon. That we will all soon have. The timing is perfect for your ascension. The other groups have proven useful but what they use as their guidance is apart from us. This will take time and it will take your loyalty. No one will miss your absence and no one would dare question your length of stay. Understand that others have spent much longer on this side. Much longer than what I need you to do. So stay sharp, stay true, and do what the fuck I tell you.”

Badr’s group was small, too small to raise concerns by those most interested in the activities of groups like his. They numbered less than fifty while other groups numbered in the thousands.
 

“We need to keep our brothers and sisters close, and therefore, our numbers cannot grow beyond control. There will be some who leave us to join another family. That will be their own demise.”

“But our brothers and sisters,” his second in charge had said, “they came to follow you with the promise of glory. The promise to strike at the head of the serpent. I am certainly not one to question your judgement Badr, for I have seen you do wondrous, miraculous things. But their need for advancement is causing restlessness.”

“Restlessness,” Badr answered, “is exactly what will cause them to fail. I’ve told them all this countless times. If we reveal our faces before it’s time, our faces will never be remembered. Soon. Very, very soon.”

<<<<>>>>

The Cleveland morning air brought him back to his before-time: A time when a cool breeze felt like a gift from Allah. They were so rare in the area he lived that thinking the cooling touch of a gentle breeze was anything less than divine was a belief only the ignorant could hold.

As he lay in his bed, the bedroom windows flung open to allow the breeze to root out and eliminate the remaining stench from the previous day, Badr found himself needing to avoid more enjoyment. Enjoyment, he knew, was like water to fire: It stole essence and weakened abilities. He turned away from the woman still sleeping by his side and took a strange comfort knowing that he had only used her for his pleasure. He made sure she understood her role in the activities of the previous night when he asked her to lay with him, and when he had fulfilled his desire, he reminded her again.

“Your pleasure, your enjoyment, was not as important as was my release. Be glad and honored you were chosen.”

He stood from the bed, walked to the window and pushed open the fluttering drapes. He stood, not caring if anyone caught a glimpse of his nakedness from outside, and remembered what it was like to fill his lungs with warm air. That was another pleasure he enjoyed in his before-time and another pleasure that he was promised he would enjoy again.

But not yet.

Now, filling his lungs or releasing his infection or finding some glimpse of humor in knowing that his old beliefs and hopes were as foolish as a child’s imaginary play friend, and only stirred anger. Resentment. A desire to earn something to give his past mistakes and sacrifices some value.

The house he was given was a simple one: One story, two bedrooms and an intentional lack of comfort and of distractions, located outside of the busy city but close enough to see everything unfold. He was seldom alone in the house, as his close associates—those who either understood what he was and had agreed to take his suggested offer, or those who were so blinded and twisted by his charms that accepting the offer was nothing more than a matter of timing—preferred to stay close to his side.

“Though we have not been discovered yet,” one of his close followers had said in a voice of concern and worry, “the chances are high that we will be. And once that happens, you need to be protected.”

“I agree,” Badr said. “And having you close eliminates wasted time between me being spotted and the spotter being eliminated.”

Being spotted was becoming so rare now. Henry had delivered on his masterful promise and supplied him with enough protection. When a spotter was identified, his protection would strike. On the rare occasions when his protection failed, his associates were quick to serve him.

Henry’s plan was ingenious: Twisted in its nature, but still brilliant. Its fulfillment would make everything worthwhile.

“The risks I am taking,” he had said before agreeing to his role, “I am becoming to see them as necessary to earn that which you are promising me. But understand, I have fallen for another promise and have paid a heavy toll. I am not without my doubts about your promises.”

“I don’t expect you not to be. In fact, if you weren’t doubtful, you wouldn’t be in the position of joining my cause. You were lied to: That lie did not come from me nor from someone who ranks among those now fluttering in this realm. You trusted an unguided, that was your error. You trusted a blinded, a deceived, a foolishly hopeful liar that used and deceived you. You died, yes by your own hands, but you know you had no choice. Now, you can earn more power and true rewards than any unguided could even possibly imagine.”

He walked through the house, not caring or worried about disturbing the four or five others he expected to still be resting. When he came upon one he recognized but couldn’t remember his name, his woke him with an easy kick to his ribs.

“Resting in the hallway?” he asked when the man snapped to respectful attention. “You are a good servant. Go into my bed and enjoy the woman. I am finished with her. She will not resist. Unless, of course, you ask her to.”

The man hurried off.

Before long, three men made their way into the kitchen to sit beside him. They were all waiting, hoping that today would be their day. The day when the countless hours and days of preparing the plan would end and the action would begin.

When the hallway-sleeper returned from his reward and joined him and the others in the kitchen, Badr began to speak.

“How many have you recruited?” he asked the four assembled.

“Still a bit under fifty,” one answered. “Forty-eight, to be accurate.”

“And these forty-eight, are they ready? Are they committed?”

“They are. Each one of them. They continue to live out their incredibly ordinary lives, just like your plan suggested. They are more than ready.”

“Have we lost any since our planning began?” he asked another.

“Three,” the man replied. “Three felt that they were ready and got sick of waiting. They wanted to own the glory right away.”

“What became of these three?”

“They lost everything. Two tried to leave the country to join another group but were stopped and eliminated before reaching an airport. The other one just stood in his home and delivered his demands. His death was not a pleasant one.”

Badr paused, glancing at each of the four assembled around him, looking into what was left of their souls. “My governor’s planning has been masterful,” he said. “Even better than what I expected. While I haven’t communicated with him in quite some time, I see the signs all around me. And these signs tell me that we need to be ready to execute our plan on a moment’s notice. Tell the forty-eight to be ready. Equip them as each needs and remind them not of the consequences of betrayal, but of the rewards of fidelity.”

The four stirred in excitement. “Should I get the vials from the storage area?” one asked.

“Not yet,” Badr warned. “While I do not question your expertise in handling the vials, a mistake would cost us dearly. I am expecting contact soon. Once I receive word that we are ready, I will give the order to execute. I know that you and our forty-eight are ready. I promise you, it won’t be much longer.”

<<<<>>>>

He walked along the busy, crowded streets of downtown, without fear of being spotted. And without that worry, the fear of being sent back was refreshingly absent. Henry had delivered on every promise he had made so far which gave Badr a settled feeling.
 

As he walked, paying attention to those who passed by him on the streets, he wondered how many would turn when their endings were reached. He wondered if not at least trying to recruit them before unleashing the terror that his team had arranged was a mistake. But Henry seemed certain about things.

“Gathering more to our numbers is no longer needed,” Henry had said to Badr. “With those that I have assembled and those that you have convinced, we have all that we need. Remember, Badr, it’s not this realm we are going to assume ownership of. Having numbers here means shit.”

“So all the victims,” Badr asked, “they will not be counted among our victories?”

“Let the other one collect them, if he chooses, or not. That decision is his and is none of our concern.”

He made his way aimlessly around downtown, pausing only occasionally to record notes about the predetermined locations. Notes about the volume of people in the area, the strength and direction of the wind. The area’s offerings of additional collateral victories.

Of all the conditions to end up in, this had to be one of the worst. Though his usual haunts were still in his assigned area, the manner of how he had to spend his days was quickly becoming unacceptable. But he knew he could do nothing about it. Not unless he wanted to go rogue, figure out his own path, make a name for himself and damn the consequences of not sticking to his agreement.

This wasn’t his first visit to the central New York area but he was expecting it to be his last. Over the years, he estimated that he had made this same journey ten or eleven times. Most of them were successful but his streak of bad luck—which now stood at four—had cost him so much. He had lost most of the respect and privileges that his successful journeys had afforded him.
 

When he was offered the deal, he felt that accepting the terms as presented was his only option.

“You ain’t giving me much in return, you know,” he said.

“You haven’t proven to be worth much,” Henry said.

“Then why the fuck are you talking to me?”

“Because you have a value that you’re not aware of yet.”

“And what value is that?” he asked.

“Experience and familiarity. Those, coupled with how incredibly dispensable you are, make you my perfect candidate.”

“You’re an asshole. You know that Henry? An absolute asshole.”

“Perhaps,” Henry said. “But this asshole is your only ticket out of here. Do what I tell you and you may just be respected again.”

“What are the terms?” he asked after realizing any chance at redemption, no matter the costs, was better than what he reasonably could expect his existence to be if he continued doing things the way he had been doing them.

<<<<>>>>

Ronald Novak dropped a fifty dollar bill on the damp bar then walked the familiar steps to the front door. As was usual, he didn’t speak with anyone when he was in the bar and, fortunately, no one seemed compelled to strike up a conversation with him. He believed that his run of bad luck was caused by his overindulgences: Drinking (which he had no intention of curbing), and talking with anyone who started a conversation. He knew it was talking that was the real culprit behind his failures. Conversation starters were easy marks, he once thought. Get them talking, get to know a couple things about them, then turn the tables and get them so fucked up in their minds that they’ll do anything.