The Demon Senders (17 page)

Read The Demon Senders Online

Authors: T Patrick Phelps

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Horror, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Suspense, #Paranormal

BOOK: The Demon Senders
9.76Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“But, I think Lisa told you that we also do a background check on every new member of Congress as well as a pretty basic refresh on every member each year. We also do a bunch of snooping when a member is considered for any committee, especially for any intelligence committees. So, I was assigned to check the backgrounds of twenty members this year: Four new members and sixteen incumbents. Flannigan wasn’t assigned to me but I have access to all the case files. So I did a bit of my own research.

“You know about her missing eleven months and you know that the people she asked you to find contact information on, Cardinal O’Keefe, Badr Irani and Ronal Novak, were also missing during the same time. O’Keefe was on a sabbatical, Badr was listed as being overseas, perhaps in Saudi Arabia and Novak is a mystery. We know local police in Upstate New York have Novak as one of their ‘usual suspects’ and that they keep a close eye on him. But during those same eleven months, not one officer made any contact or listed Novak in any reports.

“Here’s the interesting stuff: Badr isn’t on DHS’s watch list, but I have a feeling he’s going to make that list very soon. He’s not associated with any mosques or Imam’s that raise any concerns but he does live outside of Cincinnati in a house owned by, you guessed it, Stacy Flannigan. We don’t know the connection between the two nor do we know if Badr is the only one living in that house. There’s a field agent in the area that is going to dig up some info. I’ll find out more when the agent’s report is filed.

“Also, O’Keefe’s office in New York City informed me that Cardinal O’Keefe is visiting friends and will be out of his office for most of this week. Church officials, those high up in the church, are used to agents calling them since, for whatever reason, Cardinals and Bishops receive more than their fair share of death threats. I called, acting like I was just checking in when O’Keefe’s assistant told me about his travel. A Cardinal traveling is no big deal, usually. But his assistant told me where O’Keefe was heading. Care to take a guess?”

“Columbus?” Jen said.

“Damn straight.”

“So, Flannigan and O’Keefe are scheduled to be in Columbus and Badr lives about two hours away. Seems awfully strange that at least two of the people on the list Flannigan gave you are going to be in the same area this week,” Lisa said.

“But the strangeness doesn’t end in Columbus,” Jason continued. He waved his empty wine glass in front of him. Lisa took it, grabbed the half-full glass Jen was holding, and headed to the kitchen. She returned with both glasses filled and a freshly opened bottle of red wine as Jason continued talking.

“Flannigan’s travel schedule has her in Columbus for two days, then in New Hartford, New York this Friday and Saturday. Upstate New York is not her district.”

“And is where Ronald Novak lives, right?” Jen confirmed.

“Exactly,” Lisa added.
 

“What the hell?” Jen sighed.

“So,” Lisa said as she sat back against the couch, “since I haven’t used a vacation day in well over a month and your boss is doing whatever the hell it is she’s doing, guess where you and I are going Friday?”

“New Hartford, New York?” Jen said. “Why? Why would we want to go all the way up there?”

“To find out what Flannigan is up to and to see if the others are there as well.”

“I don’t agree with Lisa’s plans,” Jason said, “but I know her well enough to not try to talk her out of it. I can’t make the trip and I can’t have an agent work with you up in New Hartford, but I can help you two out with some State Police assistance.”

“Wait a minute,” Jen said. “This doesn’t make any sense. I get that Stacy traveling to Upstate New York is weird and so is the possibility that she’s meeting with O’Keefe and Badr in Columbus, but we don’t know that she’s doing anything wrong. If we go out there and she sees us, we’re both in hot water.”

“Why would we get in trouble?” Lisa said. “Nothing at all wrong with one friend joining another friend on a trip up to her hometown for a visit.”

“You’re not from Upstate New York,” Jen said.

“Flannigan doesn’t know that. And the chances of her seeing us are ridiculously remote.”

“Maybe, but if she does see us, she’s going to want to know why I’m not in the office. And she’s smart. She’ll put two and two together and figure out that we found out about her travel plans and are up there to spy on her.”

“If she sees us, which she won’t,” Lisa said, “you tell her you had the day scheduled as a vacation day for a few weeks. Flannigan doesn’t have anything to do with approving your days off. She’s your boss, yes, but she isn’t in Human Resources.”

“Like I said,” Jason continued, trying to quell the obvious worry etched across Jen’s face, “I already put a call into a Trooper that I know. He’s off that day and is more than glad to escort you two around. He’s trying to get a job with the Feds so he’s eager to help.”

“And what do you propose we do if we do find Flannigan? Which we probably won’t, by the way.”

“If she’s with Novak and if any of the others are with her, let me know,” Jason answered. “That would raise some serious flags. We’ll be on her ass so quick she won’t know what hit her. And you two will be far enough away from the whole thing that Flannigan will have no idea about your involvement.”

“So,” Lisa said, “it’s settled. We have a plan and, in my humble opinion, it’s a good plan. Jen, you good?”

“I don’t think I have much of a choice, so, yeah, I’m in.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Many answered to those he had assembled. Some were probable recruits but most were simply the lost: Those who lived on the margins of society and who were desperate for some direction. They searched for someone that would allow them to feel they had worth. Someone, anyone, that could give them a reason to hold their heads high, to justify the challenges life seemingly had an endless supply to offer.

They were lied to, tricked, deceived. Some knew it but, still, they followed.
 

The small communities or groups they joined offered more than what they could have reasonably expected had they chosen instead to continue living their lives. These were the forgotten. The overlooked and unseen casualties of society’s advancement towards what the ruling class decided would be best for the masses. Some discovered that those who shaped society offered nothing but platitudes and promises to those not fortunate enough to be counted among the ruling class, but most shuffled along, doing what they were told, believing what was presented.

For Henry Winchester, the little people who found imagined comfort in following one of his chosen meant nothing more than redundant coverage. On the remote chance that one of his team abandoned the mission and decided to chart their own path, one of the followers could easily be duped to complete a necessary task. He knew any replacement would not have the same inner motivation and would certainly lack the moral vacancy that his chosen team possessed, but, still, his plan would continue to move forward.

Except for Phillip. For him and for his role in the plan, there was no replacement. Not one that could be simply and quickly plugged in, that is. Phillip was a work of patience, stretched out over several years. While O’Keefe, Flannigan, Badr and even Novak were hand selected, only Phillip was truly groomed. Only Phillip could do what Henry needed to be done.

When all were assembled and had taken their seats around the kitchen table, Henry stood. He circled the oval table, hands clasped behind his back, pausing for the briefest of moments as he passed each of the four seated. Ronald Novak was the first to speak.

“What the fuck are we doing here?” Novak bellowed. “I made my mark a few weeks ago and could have ended his shit life then and there. But you make me wait and do nothing then tell me to get my ass out to Cleveland? It ain’t easy for a guy in my situation to get anyplace too far to walk, you know.”

“You are doing exactly what I told you all to do,” Henry snarled. He resumed his circling. Though the house was usually filled with those that were faithful to Badr, Henry instructed Badr to, “Make sure the house is empty and stays empty until hours after we leave.” Those who followed Badr willingly vacated the house, fully expecting that their mission, their long-hoped for attack was in the final stages at last.
 

“Tomorrow,” Henry continued, “Badr and his team will execute their part of my master plan. They will retrieve six vials of materials that Badr was able to collect during his most recent visit to Russia, and spread their contents across the cities of Cincinnati and Columbus. Once Badr is confident that his team will execute correctly and timely, he will go into a hiding place I’ve already arranged for him. Once I hear from Badr that his part has started and after he’s set off to the safe place, the rest of us will begin stage two.”

“The value of Badr’s part of the plan?” Cardinal O’Keefe asked. “I still fail to see it.”

“Numbers, O’Keefe. It’s all about numbers.” Henry had chosen Cardinal O’Keefe, not because of the position he held in the church, but rather because of O’Keefe’s availability. It was O’Keefe that had walked into that ramshackle of a house in Guatemala over a year ago and it was O’Keefe that decided to return to the house after his better judgement and internal guidance had screamed at him to leave.
 

Getting O’Keefe to commit the ultimate sin, taking his own life, proved much easier than Henry had expected. Once O’Keefe’s mind was so twisted that he believed his own dearly departed mother was sitting on the floor in the room with the infected child, convincing him to end it all took little more than a suggestion.

“There’s no way back for you, dear Cardinal,” the child had said. “No returning path leading to your precious God and life.”

O’Keefe’s eyes were transfixed on the woman sitting on the dirty floor. It was his mother, of that he was certain. He wrestled his thoughts to make sense of seeing her there, so many years after she had killed herself.
 

“It runs in the family, Cardinal. She accepted it, now you should, too. It’s not your fault nor does blame fall on your twisted mother’s soul. But you can take your revenge on the person who holds all the blame,” the child continued. “Listen to me,” the child whispered, her voice sounding like a gust of wind creating an ironic “hush” as it passed through ancient trees. “Do what I tell you and then, you’ll see the truth.”

Cardinal O’Keefe left the shack, made his way to the church where he was planning on staying for the next several weeks. He contacted the Diocese and told them that he “required a sabbatical” and that his time away was starting as soon as he ended the call. Ignoring the priest, who had driven him to see the infected child, and the questions he was asking, Cardinal O’Keefe insisted on being left alone for several minutes before telling the priest that he had made “other arrangements” for his stay in Guatemala. Curious but obedient, the local priest drove Cardinal O’Keefe back to the area where the infected girl was, wished him good luck, then pulled his car away, never to see or hear from Cardinal Jeffrey O’Keefe again.

O’Keefe, lost in a world in which he could no longer distinguish between reality and hallucination, walked deep into the Guatemalan rainforest. He walked for two straight days until his legs collapsed with exhaustion. He struggled to his knees, propped his body against a boulder and prayed to the God that he had served so faithfully his whole life.

“Why, Father?” he cried his supplication. “Why have you abandoned me? Why have you let evil corrupt my mind? I can’t bear this any longer.”

O’Keefe collapsed to the ground and fell unconscious. His dreams during his time passed out on the forest floor were filled with blurred images of the infected child’s gray face and of his mother sitting on the floor at the end of the child’s bed. He heard voices that sounded like they were giving him instructions but he couldn’t make out a single word.
 

He had no idea how long he was on the ground nor what day it was when he finally opened his eyes to see the streaming sunlight pouring through the towering trees above him. All he did know was what he needed to do. He needed to stop the maddening swirls of distorted visions that filled his eyes. He needed to silence the indecipherable voices crowding in his ears.
 

He staggered to his feet then pressed on, and followed the nearby sounds of water rushing when it falls from a great height.

“But you said,” O’Keefe replied to Henry, “that numbers were inconsequential at this point. That the four of us and the one whom you assigned for the other tasks were all that we needed. Has something changed?”

“Nothing has changed, Cardinal,” Henry said. “Increasing our numbers is not my intention. It is the number of lives we alter that matter. I don’t give a shit about pulling more souls as trophies, nor do I have any intentions of including more into our group. What I promised, I only promised to you three and to Phillip. Numbers only strengthen fear and respect.”

“So what the fuck am I doing here?” Novak said. “I ain’t part of Badr’s fucked up plan.”

“We need to stay close together now. My other agents have informed me of several senders that we need to rid ourselves of. We need to start taking out what remains of the sender team, one by one. Carefully. If one of you messes up and gets sent back, you’ll jeopardize the whole plan and won’t share in the rewards once the mission is completed. Novak, the sender you already marked just figured out what he is and just sent back his first demon. He lives near your transition place. I have a plan to bring him to you. You know what to do when he shows up, right?”

“Twist him or kill him,” Novak snarled.

“Don’t bother twisting. Just kill him. He fucked up and lost a piece of his soul already. When you kill him, we’ll have him.”

“And me?” Stacy Flannigan said. “What the hell else do you expect me to do? I did what you asked.”

“You did almost everything I needed. Almost. You got the data Badr needed to finish his planning and you set up our base of operations. You need to keep your profile low and keep those idiots in Washington happy with your performance. Do whatever it takes to keep the men in power happy. You understand?”

Other books

Garden of Evil by Graham Masterton
Patriotas by James Wesley Rawles
Dead Voices by Rick Hautala
Touch Me by Tamara Hogan
Crown of Midnight by Sarah J. Maas
Alena: A Novel by Pastan, Rachel
Till We Meet Again by Sylvia Crim-Brown