Twisted Linen (15 page)

Simon quickly approaches the confessional
booth and snatches aside the curtain on the priest’s side of the
confessional, revealing a startled Father Diego. Diego gasps as
Simon places the 9mm barrel under his chin.

"Forgive me Father, but I may sin if you
don't answer my questions."

Father Diego clenches his jaw and clutches
the arms of his chair. Through tight lips he mumbles, “Who are
you?”

“I guess you could say I am the Vatican. And
you are the Golden Dawn.”

“I don't know what you mean,” Diego blurts
forth.

“Where can I find Julian Baculo?”

Father Diego stiffens in response to the
sound of Baculo’s name. That is all the confirmation Simon needed;
it’s time to escalate his crude interrogation tactics.

“If you refuse to cooperate, there will be
nobody to confess my sin.”

Simon pokes the muzzle of his gun into Father
Diego’s neck. “Right now!” he yells for shock value.

Unexpectedly, Father Diego softens in
demeanor, as if he is preparing for death. He recites a verse from
the Bible: “And I saw a new heaven and a new earth…”

Simon erupts in frustration, grabs Father
Diego by the neck and then throws him out of the confessional. He
then grabs Father Diego by the back of the shoulder and jabs the
pistol into the small of his back, forcing toward the church
exit.

“The Vatican can’t stop this,” Father Diego
says in a resolute tone.

“They have my wife. I’ll stop it,” Simon
proclaims.

Father Diego jerks his head around to look at
Simon.

“Mary?” he inquires with glee. “We have Mary
again?”

“She's not 'Mary'!” Simon barks.

“What does she look like?” the Father asks in
sincere anticipation.

“No! You answer my questions!” Simon growls
as he shoves Father Diego forward.

When they reach the doorway, Simon takes hold
of Father Diego’s collar and guides him down the stoop to the
street curb, discreetly concealing the 9mm in his side.

“Your wife is the most blessed among woman of
this age,” Diego murmurs.

“You think so…then take me to her.”

“I don’t have that information,” Diego
contends.

Simon’s interrogation of Father Diego is
going nowhere fast. It is time to move up the chain of command and
meet with the Father’s banker brother, Aaron.

“Then let’s have a chat with your brother,
the banker scumbag,” Simon demands as he pauses at the curb, trying
to identify a discreet form of transportation.

“I will not allow that,” the Father solemnly
swears.

With his final declaration, Father Diego
lunges both himself and Simon into oncoming traffic. They tumble
over each other, sprawling into the middle of the street. Simon
pushes his body off Diego’s to find himself in a staring match with
the headlights of an oncoming van. Simon jumps to his feet, leaps
to the side, and tumbles to the curb. The screeching noise of
skidding tires is immediately followed by a bump-bump. Father Diego
is dead, crushed and killed instantly, and the screams of passersby
confirm the reality of what just happened.

Simon grabs his 9mm from the curb and slips
around the side of the church, seeking a safe position in the
shadows in order to evaluate the next course of action. Along with
the goon who fell to his death, this is the second deranged cult
member to take his own life. It’s now obvious these occultists
don’t fear death, and this is making conventional interrogation
difficult.

Simon peeks around the corner and sees a
small crowd forming in the street, huddled around the carnage of
Father Diego’s dead body. The pedestrians buzz with concern, some
pointing in different directions, others frozen with a hand over
their mouth.

Simon can’t let Father Diego’s death hinder
his mission. It’s time to adapt, make use of the tragic death
because circumstance cannot dictate action. As the ruckus in the
street escalates into chaos, Simon thinks, “Let no crisis go to
waste.” That’s what the Americans’ used to say, before they faced
the terminal crisis of Western capitalism.

Simon skirts the frantic crowd of onlookers,
headed toward the Banco Nacional; he has urgent news to deliver to
Father Diego’s bankster brother, Aaron Diego.

* * *

35

Into the Black

Across town Aaron Diego ends another
profitable day at the Banco Nacional. As twilight fades into
semidarkness, Aaron casually walks down the street, heading for
home. At the end of the street he turns right around a corner, out
of sight.

Not long after, Simon trots up to the bank’s
entrance and pauses to catch his breath and brush off his pants.
After a deep inhale and exhale, Simon pulls open the heavy metal
doors and enters the bank. A security guard just inside the
entrance immediately stops him.

“Sir, may I help you? This is a private bank
for appointments only.”

Simon nods and says, “I understand, but this
is a bit of an emergency.”

Simon flashes his Vatican security
credentials and says, “I am a friend of Father Diego. He’s had a
life threatening accident and he personally asked me to find his
brother. I need to speak with Mr. Aaron Diego.”

“I’m sorry, but Mr. Diego left for the
evening.”

“Where did he go?”

“Ah, I assume he went home.”

“What is the address?”

The guard hesitates.

“Please,” Simon pleads. “The Father made it
his dying wish to see his brother one last time.”

The guard stares at Simon a moment longer and
then says, “It’s 616 La Pasada Oscuro. Go down the street and take
a right. You’ll see it up ahead on the left.”

Simon dashes off, invigorated by the thought
of making the acquaintance of Aaron Diego.

It’s not far and Simon makes easy work of the
run. As he approaches the front terrace of Aaron’s beautiful
Spanish Villa, he slows to a walk. Swathes of morning glory and
jasmine adorn the exterior; their sweet fragrances remind him of
Grace. He checks the 9mm ammo clip: it’s full. Grace may soon be
dead and he’s not fired a single bullet. Simon chambers a round;
it’s time to put the lethal weapon to work.

Simon pauses under the veranda to take one
deep breath, and bangs on the door. Aaron Diego immediately opens
the door and greets Simon warmly.

“Senor LaCroix, I heard you might visit.”

“Your brother is dead,” Simon coldly
informs.

“Please…come in,” Aaron unemotionally
responds.

The interior of Aaron’s villa is designed in
a traditional style with tiled floors and beamed ceilings. It’s
neatly and comfortably furnished, but there is an overt pagan
ambiance. Most notable is a large-scale golden bull with horns
close to two feet in length, presented off in the corner of the
main room. It's the modern incarnation of ancient Egyptian worship
and witchcraft, and it’s the same animal totem of Moloch that the
Jews chose to worship while waiting for Moses to return from Mount
Sinai.

“Did you hear what I said?” Simon
demands.

Aaron gently closes the door to the villa and
says, “It is only the first death.”

In an instant Simon places his 9mm to Diego’s
forehead.

“So this shouldn’t bother you,” Simon
threatens.

“It does not. I do not fear death,” he
bravely responds.

“Really!” Simon taunts.

Simon shoves Aaron back into a wicker chair
and positions the gun muzzle between Aaron’s eyes.

“Please elaborate before I test your
faith.”

“How can I enlighten you?” Aaron willingly
complies.

“Let's start with Dr. Seed and your mission
to unite God with man.”

“What's to tell? The late doctor founded an
organization for the purpose of extending human life. He led the
way in somatic-cell nuclear transfer.”

“And its headquarters are here in San
Sebastian?”

“Headquarters? It's a distributed
organization…there is no head.”

“Wrong answer!” Simon abruptly responds as he
jabs the muzzle of his gun into Aaron’s weathered forehead. “You're
taking me there. Now!”

Aaron offers a noncompliant glare.

“You willing to die, right now?” Simon
threatens.

Aaron slowly turns his head away from the
gun, toward the window. He looks pensively through the window at
the mountain view in the distance, and then calmly states,
“Tomorrow is Rosh HaShanah. Tomorrow the Lord returns and I will
see my brother before I see the sun rise over those mountains.”

His tranquil gaze is broken by a vicious
pistol whip to the head. “Take me there,” Simon orders.

Aaron is in pain but unfazed in his stance.
He shakes his head at Simon and says disdainfully, “You are
unworthy.”

“Take me to my wife!” Simon yells.

“No,” Aaron responds with icy resolve.

Aaron’s a cool customer, and Simon is getting
frustrated by his inability to elicit information concerning Grace.
The two stare at each other with equal resolve.

Simon is burning with fierce determination to
maim or murder in order to save the only thing that ever seemed to
matter in his life – the angel who settled him and brought peace
where there had been so much rage. But, Simon is astounded at the
commitment of this cult and its unwavering faith. In frustration he
steps over to the window for something, anything. He wipes his
forehead with a sweaty forearm, gun in hand. His heart begins to
thump in his chest.

“You people,” Simon fumes in disbelief. “What
possesses you?”

As Simon turns back to face Aaron,
uncontrollable hate from the abyss erupts within him. He attacks
Aaron with sinister aggression: Simon side-kicks Aaron in the
chest, knocking him backwards out of the chair. As Aaron gasps for
air, Simon methodically steps over him and stomp-kicks him in the
stomach, then bends down to grab a fist full of hair. Simon
viciously slams Aaron’s head against the tile floor causing Aaron
to temporarily lose consciousness.

Simon’s heart pounds in his chest, like
pistons pumping rage up and down; he has lost all sense of
compassion. It’s a fracas and Satan is most likely watching from
the shadows, applauding, relishing the deception he has created
between them. Each is convicted in their beliefs, engrossed in what
they think is true.

Simon lowers down to a knee, putting the
barrel of the pistol to Aaron's head.

“This is it,” Simon cautions. “Take me to my
wife.”

With great fortitude Aaron responds, “Cohen
will be born again. It's Grace’s destiny.”

Simon strikes him across the face with a wild
backhand-slap. He then leans into Aaron’s face.

“He's not her son, you bastard.”

Aaron chuckles at Simon; he knows this could
go on all night, so he moves their destiny forward with an
ultimatum.

Aaron declares, “You'll need to make a choice
now. There's a price to pay…every choice we make.”

Simon slowly stands, glaring back in
bewilderment.

“Look who's talking,” Simon responds with
clarity.

Simon savagely beats Aaron until he has
nothing left. He then presses his thumb into a painful
pressure-point of Aaron’s neck. Aaron shrieks in agonizing pain as
his arms coil in a contorted posture. After a few seconds, Simon
releases the pressure so Aaron has one last chance to speak.

“What's your decision?” Simon demands.

Aaron is conscious but unwilling to
respond.

In resolution, Simon drops Aaron's almost
lifeless head to the floor and slowly rises to a standing position.
Aaron closes his eyes as Simon aims the pistol at his face.

POW! Simon fires a round that hits just
beside Aaron’s head. Aaron’s body involuntarily flinches, and then
he slowly opens his eyes, one at a time.

Simon offers him one last chance. “There are
only two absolutes…good and evil. No in-between. Either you're
right, or I am.”

Aaron acknowledges the truth with a short
nod.

Simon continues, “The next bullet is taking
you to your God. He'll bring extreme elation or painful agony.
Which God is waiting for you?”

Aaron closes his eyes, as if preparing for
death.

Simon conjures his callous alter ego, the
executioner. Externally, his hair is dripping perspiration as it
clings to his scowling forehead. Internally, conflicting emotions
of rage, confusion, and desperation battle each other.

Aaron joins in the spiritual warfare by
quoting Scripture: “And the time is coming when those who kill you
will think they are doing a holy service for God.”

Simon’s never killed anybody, but a sinister
voice in his head says this guy deserves it. Simon begins to slowly
squeeze the trigger when suddenly he's stopped by a familiar
voice.

“Simon!” Genovi hollers from the doorway.
“That's not the way.”

Genovi stands in the doorway in his Cardinal
red; his imposing presence freezes Simon.

“Put the gun down,” Genovi commands.

Simon looks down to what he’s done to Aaron,
then at Genovi, wondering what he must be thinking. Simon is
emotionally ripped to shreds. His rage almost led him to the other
side, into the black.

Finally, Simon lowers the gun to his side,
and Genovi slowly approaches him.

“You will not get Grace this way,” Genovi
says to Simon before turning his attention to Aaron. He steps over
Aaron in a posture of superiority and a look of condemnation.
Genovi then kneels beside him and places his hand on Aaron’s
head.

Genovi quotes from Revelation, “The time is
at hand. He that is filthy, let him be filthy still. And he that is
holy, let him be holy still.”

Aaron lies motionless, gazing at Genovi in
awe and fear. Genovi slowly rises and turns back to Simon.

“We must hurry now.”