The Regime: Evil Advances (3 page)

“Should I?”

“Yes, because yours outstrip them all. It took forever to get you up to the heart rate we needed for the stress test, and you maintained it nearly twice as long as anyone else ever has. Your recovery time was minuscule, meaning your cardiovascular system is off the charts.

“You have the strength of someone twice your size. And of course I was informed of your visual acuity. The young woman wants to know if you are single, by the way.”

“Not interested.”

“How about I say unavailable?”

“Even better.”

“Mr. Carpathia, what will you do with this superhuman body of yours?”

“What do you suggest I do with it, Doctor?”

“Become an Olympian or a professional athlete.”

Nicolae waved dismissively. “No challenge. I ran a fifteen-hundred-meter race in physical education in college that would have won me a bronze at the Olympics, and I had never run one before, never competed on a track team.”

“Impossible.”

“You doubt me?”

“After today? No. I’m just saying …”

“I had all kinds of pressure to pursue track and field. A coach tried me out in various events. I could high-jump, pole-vault, throw the discus and the shot, run the hurdles.”

“Then why not?”

“What is the challenge?”

“For the glory of Romania then?”

Nicolae sat back. Was the doctor serious? Actually doing something for the benefit of his country had never crossed his mind. It was a strange notion. He too would benefit from the visibility, but having to share the glory with a nation? It didn’t compute.

“How about IQ tests?” the doctor said.

“I have taken them all,” Nicolae said.

“And how did you do?”

“No problems.”

“Meaning?”

“Except that the results were delayed while they pondered the implausibility of my scores, I was gratified to have apparently broken some records.”

“I don’t suppose you recall which tests you took?”

“Do I recall?” Nicolae said, smiling. He reached for a pad of paper on the doctor’s desk and pulled a pen from his pocket. “Not only do I recall them, but four years later, I can reproduce them. All of them. Every question and every multiple-choice answer. I will not waste our time doing them all, but here is an example.”

Nicolae scribbled furiously, perfectly reproducing three consecutive questions in the spatial-cognition portion, including five intricate drawings. At the end he wrote the name of the test, the company that produced it, and the full copyright line.

The doctor pressed his lips together and nodded as he read. “I know your reputation as a businessman, Mr. Carpathia. But you really have much more to offer. I realize this is outside my purview as your physician, so forgive me if I am crossing the line. But don’t you have any lofty goals, any plan to benefit mankind, to better the world?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Nicolae said. “I plan to take it over.”

The doctor leaned back and roared. “And a sense of humor to boot! Well, I’ll be looking for you on the cover of
Global Weekly
one of these days.”

Nicolae wasn’t laughing.

Rayford busied himself with Chloe and Raymie that Sunday to avoid any more uncomfortable talk with

Irene. She seemed positively serene, not to mention eager to get to church. To his horror, she had her Bible tucked under her arm.

“They flash the verse on the screen,” he said in the car.

“I know, but Jackie says the best sound in her church is the rustling of the pages when the passage is announced.”

“Thank God we’re not going to her church.”

“That’s blasphemous, Rayford. Using God’s name to—”

“I was being serious. I do thank Him we’re going to our own church, but you’re going to be the only one with a Bible.”

“It should embarrass me to carry a Bible to church?”

“I just think it seems a little over the top, that’s all.”

Usually Irene worried what others thought. She might as well have been wearing a sandwich board announcing that the end of the world was near.

“We have only one, sometimes two verses on the screen for an entire sermon,” she said. “This way I can at least study them in context.”

“Isn’t that the pastor’s job?” Rayford said. “To put it in context?”

As he had promised in his airborne foxhole, Rayford tried to pray every day. When he forgot, he reminded himself as he was drifting off at the end of the day. He thanked God for protecting him and asked God to take care of Irene and the kids. And to make him a better man. He wasn’t sure how possible that was, not that he wanted to brag. But he was doing all right for himself, and most people thought he was a pretty cool guy.

He was doing what he had always wanted to do. He had everything he had ever hoped to have. His wife was great and would be even better when this super-religious phase passed. And of course Rayford loved his kids.

To top it all off, he was fulfilling his promise to God, and here he sat in church. That was not new, except that only he and Irene knew he intended it to be the first of many Sundays when he would do the same.

As much as Nicolae was repulsed by Reiche Planchette, he could not deny that the man was loyal to the Luciferian cause and clearly had spirit-world connections.

Privately the younger man longed to usurp the older in influence in the netherworld, and Nicolae firmly believed that day would come. Perhaps it already had. Though he paid Reiche as little as he could get away with, Nicolae installed him as part of his cabinet. He would one day enjoy lording it over his elder that he had surpassed him in every endeavor—particularly the spiritual—but meanwhile, he needed to take advantage of what Planchette had to offer.

In a meeting with his top people, including Planchette and “Aunt” Viv, in the vast conference room in his home, Nicolae rehearsed his medical report and sat basking in their admiring smiles. “In all humility,” he said,

“I feel as if I stand on a great precipice with unlimited vistas before me. I have maximized my physical and mental gifts and stand ready to use them to benefit mankind.”

He was surprised to see Viv raise a hand. Could she not just listen? He ignored her. He had plans, strategies, ideas. On the screen behind him he would soon show the highlights of a project he had put together the night before, outlining the timeline for his next great conquests.

As his remarks moved closer to the media show, Viv again raised her hand.

“What is it?” Nicolae said, not hiding his pique.

“I just want to say that this is something your late mother and 1 talked and dreamed of. It was obvious from an early age that you—”

“Forgive me, Aunt Viv, but surely you of all people realize how little influence my mother had on my development.”

“Oh, I am not implying that you are other than a self-made man. I just—”

“She had even less influence on my character and abilities than you did.”

“Even less than I? What are you—?”

“If I may proceed.” Using outlines, charts, and graphs projected onto the screen, Nicolae walked his brain trust—such as it was—through his ten-year plan. “Keep in mind, of course, that I may be underestimating my own appeal to the populace and, thus, this could very easily be accelerated.”

He laid out a schedule that saw him gaining admittance to both the army and air force schools as a combination part-time student and adjunct business professor.

“Does such a role even exist?” Reiche Planchette said.

“Not that I am aware of,” Nicolae said. “Do you consider that an obstacle?”

“No, sir,” Planchette said. “A challenge, of course.”

“Good. Then that shall be your assignment. Make it happen. If I have to donate a weapon of war or two, so be it.”

“May I know your ultimate purpose, Nicolae?” Planchette said. “Just so we’re all on the same page?”

Carpathia gazed at Planchette, closed his eyes, and sighed. “Surely you are assuming my plan has an overarching aim.”

“Of course.”

“Then listen and you will learn.”

By the time the Steele family got home from church, Rayford was already wavering on the commitments he’d made to God during his crisis. If he could just drag himself out of bed on Sunday mornings and sit through church, fine. But to endure Irene and her higher-than-a-kite response to everything—that he wasn’t so sure he could deal with.

“Reverend Bohrer is a wonderful person, no doubt,” she said, sitting at the dinner table. “But did you really listen, Rafe?”

“I tried to, but the wind gusts alone from the turning of those big Bible pages drowned out half his words.”

“Very funny. But that’s just it. He was proof texting. Know what that means?”

“I went to college too, Irene.”

“He used only two verses, but rather than tell us what they meant based on his own careful study, he worked at making them fit his point, which wasn’t that profound.”

“So we’re going to have roast pastor for dinner?”

“I’m not saying a thing to you I wouldn’t say to him,” Irene said. “In fact, maybe we should invite him and his wife to Sunday dinner next week so I can get into this with him.”

Rayford let his chin fall to his chest. “I’d rather be drawn and quartered.”

“You don’t want to talk about this stuff?”

“I don’t even want to think about it. I thought his talk was fine today, hon. I felt uplifted, encouraged.”

“Really?”

“Yes!”

“Refresh me. What was his point?”

“His point?”

“That should be easy, Rafe. It uplifted and encouraged you.”

Rayford shrugged and shook his head. “Be nice to everyone and live in peace. Bottom line.”

“Profound.”

“Does he have to be profound every week? What do you expect?”

“You could have delivered that message, Rayford.

So could I. Is it wrong for me to expect some meat from a pastor, something from the Bible I wouldn’t otherwise understand? Jackie says her pastor studied the original biblical languages in seminary, and while he doesn’t overwhelm people with it, he tries to explain what things mean in the Hebrew or Greek.”

“Sounds like a barrel of laughs.”

“I don’t want to just be made to feel good, Rayford. I want to be challenged, taught. I want to grow in my faith.”

Rayford bit his tongue.

“What, Rafe? What’s on your mind?”

He finished a bite and slid his chair back. “I just don’t want to be this much into it, Irene. Can’t you leave the rah-rah part to the professionals, the ministers, the full-timers? We go to church to worship and fellowship and get re-centered. I’m not going to be a missionary, a zealot, or an evangelist. And, I hope, neither are you.”

“While I am studying warfare,” Nicolae said, “I want to expand the business.”

“Expand?” Planchette said, and Viv looked surprised too. “How much bigger can we … er … you get?”

“Oh, much!” Nicolae said. “We should never feel we have arrived. This business should grow by at least 20 percent a year or be considered a failure.”

“But we’re profitable, and will be even if we have flat growth for two or three years.”

“Flat growth is an oxymoron, Reiche,” Nicolae said. “And how can you say that with inflation the way it is? The markets in the West have reopened, and the only way to take advantage of that is to borrow a hundred million and start trading.”

“A hundred million?” Viv said.

“You have to think big,” Nicolae said. “If I did not believe I could parlay that into a gain of at least 20 percent, I would not dream of it.”

“Mr. Stonagal has been most supportive,” Planchette said. “But a hundred million?”

“I do not propose we go to Stonagal for any of this. I would put up a portion of the company as collateral and do it through a European bank.”

Carpathia could not help but notice the skepticism on the faces of his entire team. But he wasn’t worried. That was merely fuel. He enjoyed surprising and impressing them as much as he did convincing them. They would be bowing and scraping a year from now.

“My political advisers tell me that the fastest route to the Chamber of Deputies would be through the Social Democratic Party. The Greater Party or the Liberal Party is less attractive, and the Hungarian Democrats are out of the question. I, however, would insist on running as an independent.”

“Independents don’t win, as a rule,” Viv said. “Are you sure that’s the best route to the Adunarea Deputatilor?”

“I will run as a pacifist.”

That had the desired effect. The staff looked at each other, scowling, then back at him.

“A pacifist,” Planchette said. “Then why the military training?”

“To be a dichotomy, a conundrum; to have to explain myself. The more people wonder about you, the more press time you get. I will be a military expert who has decided war is futile and hopeless. The wave of the future is peace. What could be more popular than that?”

“You realize that your major benefactor is huge into armaments.”

“Do you assume I work for or cater to Mr. Stonagal? What do I have to do to disabuse you of that notion?”

“I believe you just did,” Planchette said.

“Jackie has been inviting me to weekly meetings, Bible studies,” Irene said. “Maybe that would give me what I need.”

“That’s a rather transparent way to get you thinking about switching churches,” Rayford said.

“Oh, I don’t think Jackie has ulterior motives,” she said.

Rayford stood and began clearing the table. “Well, I do,” he said. “If going to little meetings like that will keep you from complaining about our church, feel free. But let me go on record right now: I’m not switching. I like where we are, and I said I would keep going, so I will. But nowhere else, and no extra meetings.”

Carpathian International Trading’s purse strings were tended by a swarthy little man who went by merely Ion. On their way to the Intercontinental Bank in Bucharest, it appeared to Nicolae that Ion had never been in a Bentley before.

With his briefcase in his lap and files that wouldn’t fit inside stacked precariously on top, Ion looked everywhere but at his boss. His ill-fitting suit was buttoned all the way up.