The Overseer (27 page)

“To serve God on Earth,” Hannah said without hesitation.

“But why do we have these gifts? Gifts that no one else has. Why would God do that?”

Hannah paused. “I hadn’t really thought too much about that.”

Clay smiled. “I have. And why else would God put us here: people with the ability to see everything and fix everything? Because that’s exactly what we’re meant to do.”

“To fix everything?” Hannah asked.

“To fix the world,” he said with an almost magical twinkle in his eye. “Just think about what a united Firstborn could do. With John Temple in charge, we haven’t been nearly as effective as we should have been. In less than a year he’s plunged the Firstborn into very serious financial problems.”

“The IRS?” Hannah clarified.

“Yes!” Clay declared. “The people who were able to send Al Capone to Alcatraz for life when nobody else could touch him. The people who put away Mickey Cohen, the mob boss of Hollywood, in the fifties. The big, mean hammer of the federal government that hangs over everybody. And because of John it’s coming down—and it could come down hard.” Clay took a breath, looking at them with a kind of intimate sincerity. “It’s time for a change.”

Hannah looked at Devin. He said nothing and made no expression, simply listening. “Continue,” she insisted.

“God put us here to change the world. To fix the problems around us. Think about the Ora—the ability to see and feel things in the moment. We could negotiate a lasting peace. We could solve the world financial crisis, facilitate discussion, end nuclear proliferation, end exploitation of women and children worldwide, bring all American troops home, cure the diseases of the world. Just think about everything we could do if we would stand together. If someone would just
lead
us together.”

Hannah watched Clay Goldstein’s face. He was serious as a heart attack. “You really think the Firstborn could do all of this?” she asked.

“I do,” Clay said with a nod, “and we will.”

“How?” Devin asked bluntly.

“We get the SEC squared away and the IRS off the Firstborn’s back,” he said with a rehearsed polish. “Pursue profitable enterprises that really bring back the vitality. Play it smart though. Not just going with knee-jerk reactions like John Temple did. I’ve spent the last few years buying up media companies. We’ve become a leader in the field of mass media and communications. We do that to make the money and increase our influence. Then we start in on politics—and we shape foreign and domestic policy.”

“You’re joking.” Devin scoffed.

“No,” Clay said with a smile, “I’ve been talking to my people. We can do this. If we pool our resources and our abilities, we can be up and running in no time. Every Firstborn on a central payroll in constant contact with one another.”

“You’re going to turn the Firstborn into a corporation,” Hannah stated.

“Yes.” Clay nodded.

“Isn’t that a little tacky?”

He shrugged. “Sociology 101: It’s the natural progression of things. First comes religion, then politics, and then business.”

Hannah frowned, not buying it. “What do you mean? Religion hasn’t gone away.”

“True,” Clay conceded, “but the religious elite are no longer the ones who dictate values to the most people. They used to be—the Vatican, the theologians, the clergy—but then the Enlightenment came and government became the new leader in ideas.” Clay laughed to himself. “I mean, look at the Founding Fathers. They were practically deified in early America. The prophets of the new age. But”—he waved his hand airily—“all that has given way to the profits of the modern economy. It’s our corporations and advertisers who dictate our values now. But that doesn’t mean we can’t still make those Christ’s values.”

“How so?” she asked.

“There are more ways to follow God than just going to church and doing religion. A person needs to make a difference in the world if they’re really going to live out their ideology—and that means growing out of religion and into a body that can make a change.”

“Politics,” Devin interjected.

“Yes.” Clay nodded. “But you have to pay for it all, which means business. It’s a natural progression of importance and social growth.” Clay took a drink. “One of the best examples is in Salt Lake City. The tallest building in a city is usually considered the most important, and in the beginning the Mormon Tabernacle was the tallest building in the city. That was back when people valued the opinions of their religious leaders. But times changed and society grew, and they built the capitol next door.”

“And it was taller,” Hannah agreed.

“And then came business, and those buildings tower over everything.” Clay paused for a moment of effect. “Power shifted. And if we want to be relevant in the world, we have to shift with it.”

“You’re serious,” Hannah uttered, her mind finally wrapping around the concept.

A shrug lifted Clay’s shoulders. “Sad fact, kiddos: while an individual may do a better job of having meaningful insight than large groups, individuals will never be able to accomplish anywhere near as much.” He took another drink, wiping his mouth with the back of his forearm. “With unity and coordination—with a central vision at the core of our leadership, we can fix the world. We can change everything forever— and we can lead the world to a new era of peace and prosperity. We can bring the kingdom of heaven to Earth!”

Devin cleared his throat. “You really think that it’s our place to ‘change’ the world?”

“We can
save
the world,” Clay said with a nod.

“And what if the world doesn’t want to be saved?”

Clay waved a hand at Devin. “You’re just being a contrarian. Of course people want to be saved—and I’m going to make sure it happens.”

Devin shook his head. “I don’t understand. How does this involve us?”

“I want you with me,” Clay said, raising his bottle of water to them. “I want the best and the brightest of the Firstborn to be with me in this endeavor—this crusade. Can I count you in?”

Devin was quiet for a moment before he spoke. “A lot of very terrible things have been done in this world while attempting to do something good. What you’re talking about sounds very risky.” Devin was quiet again for a moment. “I’m not ready to commit to your cause, but I do appreciate your help.”

Clay sat back, letting the subject drop for the moment. “Of course I’ll help. Vince is scared of this Angelo guy.”

Hannah spoke up. “And you’re not?”

Clay shrugged. “Why should I be? I’ve caught glimpses of him skulking around for the past few years—nothing serious. He knew some private details about Vince’s wife and the affair she had with their pastor. Tough stuff. It scared Vince, but I’m not that kind of guy.”

“So you have no problem with us stopping the Foster assassination?” Devin asked.

Clay shook his head. “Not really. I think you’re wasting your time with small stuff, yes, but I see no reason to try to stop you like he has.”

“Small stuff?” Hannah queried.

“Yeah,” he said casually. “Truth be told, Senator Foster is a slime. If these guys don’t get him, somebody else will—and the world won’t be too sad without him. It’s not like he was any good as a senator anyway.”

“It’s still wrong for people to try to kill him,” Devin said with resolve.

“What about the girls?” Hannah asked. “Do you think that’s ‘small stuff’ too?”

“Human trafficking isn’t going away,” Clay said. “Sadly, eight thousand girls were shipped into this country last year, and next year will be the same. There’s a demand in this country for sex without strings, and that’s not going to be solved by saving a few girls.” Clay turned his palms out. “Besides, I have reason to believe it may already be too late. But if you believe in this, then I’m not going to stop you. I’m just going to ask that you be darn certain this Angelo guy was wrong.”

Devin spoke. “I don’t understand.”

“Are you certain he’s wrong about the Firstborn being torn apart?” Clay took another sip of water. “Sure, he’s crazy. He’s seeing past, present, and future all at once, and it’s burning up his mind. It’s too much for any normal person to handle. But are you so certain he’s bonkers that you’re willing to risk the future of the Firstborn?”

“If you’re so concerned,” Devin asked, “why are you letting us do this?”

Clay shrugged. “I’ve always been more interested in the present. In the moment. The future doesn’t bother me very often. Maybe he’s right; maybe he’s wrong. I wasn’t too fond of the way the Firstborn were anyway.”

“So you’ll let terrible things happen if we’re wrong?” Hannah asked, amused by the concept.

Clay remained casual. “I’m dying. My mortal life is going to be over sooner than I’d like to think. That’s changed my priorities. A year ago I was mostly an administrator. But today I have a vision of the way I’d like to leave the world.”

“A legacy,” Hannah added.

“Yes,” Clay agreed, “a legacy. And while saving a few girls is good, I’d rather bring an end to the whole practice of sexual predation for profit. Does that make sense?”

“Yes,” Hannah nodded, “it does.”

“But if you believe that you can save these girls, I’m not going to stop you. Just be aware that Angelo may still be right—and you don’t want that to be your legacy, do you?”

She thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No.”

“If you want my advice,” he said, putting the cap back on his water, “go to the sale tomorrow, and if that doesn’t bring everything to a happy conclusion, then drop it. Let it go. There’s no point in burning precious time chasing after one incident, and if you have any doubt about doing this stuff, then that’s a good deadline.”

The cabin of the plane was quiet for several long seconds.

“Is that all you wanted to discuss?” Devin asked.

Clay thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah. I guess it was. Mostly, I want you to know that I trust you.”

Hannah smiled cordially. “I’m very flattered.”

“You should be,” Clay agreed. “I don’t trust people very well anymore. Not since my two grown sons were killed.” He eyed Devin for a moment, waiting for some kind of response, then turned his attention back to Hannah. “I’ve left Napa Valley only three times in the last two years. One of them was the night your grandfather was killed. One of them was today.”

“And the other?” she asked.

“The doctor’s appointment where they confirmed that I’m dying,” he said with a morose edge, “so I guess it’s all tied together.” He forced a smile. “Now, I have a car for you two— silver, midsized sedan. Just the way you like, Devin.”

Clay stood. “I did some checking,” he continued. “The sale information got updated. It looks like your product might already be sold. The girls may already have gone to a different buyer.”

Hannah stood. “No,” she said, incredulous.

“I told you things might not go so well.” Clay shrugged, then reached into his pocket. “This is an address. This is where pickups are supposed to take place—where buyers get their girls. That’s what my visions say, if you trust them. I don’t know what you’ll want to do with this information, and maybe I don’t want to know, but here it is.”

“Thank you,” Hannah said, nearly tearing up.

“And,” Clay continued, taking out another piece of paper, “this is the information for a bank account. There’s thirty thousand in there. My sources say that should be about enough to buy back three girls from these people.”

Hannah accepted the piece of paper, looking over the routing number and its associated information. Without thinking she threw her arms around Clay’s neck. “Thank you,” she whispered. She let go and stepped back.

“And you,” he said to Devin. “I really do think that John Temple has the information you need.”

Devin went to speak, surprise on his face.

“I know,” Clay continued. “I never expected John to get anything like this right either. Now, you had best be on your way,” he said, leading them to the door. “And Godspeed.”

Chapter 16

J
OHN SAT ON
the hotel suite’s couch, hunched over the coffee table, sketching as fast as he could, trying to remember every possible detail of what Dalton and the others had discussed— the layout of the hotel’s lobby and the security station they were going to try to cut off. The escape routes—possible or otherwise. Even the monorail train. Were they serious? How could they escape on something that moved that slowly, with that much glass and that little cover? Maybe the plan could be more intricate than he realized.

The harder he thought, the faster he scribbled. The faster he worked, the more quickly it all seemed to slip from his mind— one piece at a time, all of it slipping. He had to get it out. He had to get it on the page. Devin would need the information to stop the assassination, and he needed to do this for himself— and for God. There was always something more he could give to God, he told himself. There was always something he could do better, faster, with more virtuous intentions.

Yes, what Dalton planned was evil—but that didn’t eliminate the power of his advice, or the overwhelming sense of conviction that had flooded John at hearing Dalton’s words. As far as he was concerned, Dalton had been speaking on behalf of God. Sure, he had his priorities all wrong, but his understanding of God was spot on. It was what John had embraced for so many years in the mission field. It was what he had lost and forgotten as Overseer. Maybe he’d let people like Devin influence him too much.

His best, he told himself. He had to do his best. His firstfruits were all that God deserved—and if he could please God, then maybe, just maybe, God would spare…

Trista sat down next to him. She put a hand on the back of his head, running fingers through his hair. “Are you going to be OK?” she asked.

He stopped, noticing her fingers in his hair for the first time. John nodded quickly and emphatically. “I just have to do this. I can’t cut corners. I have to get this right.”

John turned back to his pad, pencil lead pressing hard against the stationery. Then he stopped. That was it. That was all he could remember and re-create. After that there was only blurry recollection, and John had never been good with the past.