Chapter 25
“This is a very important journey, Jesus,” Prophet Thompson said to the cloned messiah. “With this sweep through the Holy Land at Easter time you will have the world’s eyes on you. It is imperative that we communicate the right message to your waiting worshipers.”
“Yes, yes. You’re right, Thomas. I need to—ahh—have you seen my suitcase? I thought I left it in here?” the messiah asked with a confused and weak voice. His confusion was spreading. The bouts with his disease grew stronger every day and the messiah’s ability to focus dwindled in direct proportion.
Thompson watched him. He shook his head in disbelief as Jesus left the bedroom of his home near Rome.
“It’s getting worse, isn’t it?” Laura, Thompson’s long time secretary and my secret advisor, asked.
“That’s all right. We just need to keep him off to himself until the big sermon on Good Friday. After that things will be fine again,” the prophet answered.
“I don’t see how assassinating your creation is going to make it all better,” Laura whispered.
“Laura, please don’t mention anything about that ever again. You’ll see that it is truly in God’s plan.”
“Which god are we talking about? The little one on the throne in the Vatican, the one I’m standing next to or the one who rules over hell?” Laura retorted.
Who is she talking to? How dare her? Smite her! Strike her down! The voice drove into the Prophet’s mind and his eyes flashed and his left arm snapped hard in her direction catching the woman with the back of his hand along the bridge of her nose. Laura flew backwards crashing into the small writing table and chairs sitting around it. She landed hard pulling on the table tipping it forward. Laura slid off and the edge of the table came down painfully on her chest pushing the air out of her lungs. No scream escaped her lips but a thin stream of crimson began its trickle down her chin.
“What’s all the noise in there?” Jesus yelled from the other room.
“Nothing. Laura just tripped. Just stay there and I’ll be in to help you find your suitcase.” Thompson looked at her with demon eyes and spit out, “Just keep your mouth shut you little…”
“Prophet Thompson, what should I wear for the Good Friday sermon?” Jesus said as he stood at the door to the bedroom. He stared down at Laura and remarked, “That was some nasty trip, Laura. Any broken bones that I can heal? You know, I heal people. I’m the messiah. Messiah’s heal people. Do you need me to heal you?”
Thompson made it to Jesus in a few large bounding steps and spun his body around and out the door. The clone's recent drivel was more disconcerting each time Thompson heard him speak.
“She’ll be fine. Won’t you, Laura?” Thompson called back to her as he left the room.
Laura’s hand went to her mouth and wiped away the blood. Over the years Thompson’s internal voice, that gave him the gift of prophecy, had changed. It had become more violent in its instructions and more cruel in how it led the man she once loved and once respected. Beatings were more of the norm than the abnormal. Even his interest in sex moved towards the more perverted. It seemed to her that the Prophet became more twisted inside his heart, brain and soul. Something was changing him daily and each day it became more horrible to watch.
She tried to remember back to that hard working Florida pastor in his tiny rural church. He had been so caring to the people he called his flock. It was the voice inside his head that had changed him. First it seemed like great miracles would emanate from him. The voice would speak to Thompson and he would speak the future. She was sure that the voice was now guiding his every move. The voice that she thought once had belonged to the Holy Spirit she now felt belonged to all that was unholy.
But Laura was too afraid to run. Running meant her death. Just like what I was facing. Thompson would hunt her down and joyfully choke the life out of her. The beatings were easier to endure than the thought of her death.
My friend Mary Grace was truly taking good care of my wife, daughter and grandchildren. Beth told me later that the two of them had worked out several escape routes in case either the assassins or CIA showed up. Their plans would come in handy later on.
I didn’t expect anyone to find them there but I didn’t expect my daughter to be the one to leave the trail to them either. The following morning after arriving at Brian and Mary Grace’s she called her friend, the secretary of St. Joseph the Worker church. Jeanna had gone over and picked up her cat and plants and was planning to take care of them.
“Jeanna, hi, it’s me,” Cari said from a pay phone around the corner from Mary Grace’s home.
“Mystery girl, what’s going on?” the secretary said back to her.
“I’m not sure. I got here after Dad fell asleep and he was gone when I got up. Mom said that our lives are in danger,” Cari answered.
“That’s kind of hard to believe, isn’t it?” Jeanna said.
“Guess who is supposed to be after us?”
“Got me, girl. Your the one with a nutcase for a dad,” Jeanna joked.
“Mom said that the Messiah and Archbishop Russo are behind this. Can you imagine that? Jesus and the next Pope are trying to kill my father. I’ll wait around till Dad gets back and try to convince him to see a doctor and take a long rest. I should be back in a few days,” Cari said.
“How can I get hold of you?” Jeanna asked.
“I don’t want Dad to know that I talked to anyone so I’ll just sneak out everyday and call you. Watch Puffles for me and don’t forget to water those plants. See you soon.” Cari hung up and headed back to the house.
As Jeanna was hanging up her phone the door to the church office opened. In walked two priests. She didn’t recognize either one except that they reminded her of two guys from an old cop show she had seen on TV.
“Hi, can I help you?” she asked.
“Actually you can help us, the Archbishop and the Messiah but more importantly you can help a very ill man,” Soteri said with a large smile and serious eyes.
“How?”
“You have a friend. Her name is Cari and her dad is the bio-geneticist that cloned Jesus.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Dr. MacDonald has been under severe stress and was under strict medical care. I believe they have diagnosed him with an inoperable tumor. The tumor is giving him paranoid delusions. Archbishop Russo is terribly concerned about one of his oldest and dearest friends. He has sent us to find him. We thought Cari might know where he is but the neighbors said she left yesterday with luggage and the kids. A very dear, old woman, Mrs. Krauser, told us that you came later and picked up the cat,” Soteri told her.
“Oh my goodness. I just got off the phone with Cari. She doesn’t know about the tumor but she’s also very worried about her dad,” Jeanna said with the tone of concern rising in her voice.
“Can you tell us where she is?” Chuckie Hat snapped.
“She wouldn’t tell me but she said she would call again tomorrow.”
“From where?” Hat asked.
“She was going to call from a pay phone,” Jeanna said then continued, “I don’t know where she called from but my Caller ID has the number recorded. See.” She pointed at the small Caller ID screen.
“D.C.” Hat said to Soteri as he jotted down the number.
“You’ve been very helpful. We’ll track them down but do us a favor. Don’t say a word to her. I don’t want the girl frightened about her dad’s health. We’ll be there tomorrow and make sure he gets the medical care he needs,” Soteri said.
The two priests turned and walked out. Jeanna fell back in her chair and let out a long breath of air. This was weighty stuff and far more than a church secretary could handle.
A phone call came into Russo’s private and direct line. The Archbishop asked, ‘Have you found MacDonald yet?’ Soteri could hear the intensity in Russo’s voice. He had said once to one of my secret information suppliers that he noticed a new stressfulness on the Russo’s face and in his voice. The muscles often pulled hard around the jaw. The fake priest couldn’t quite put his finger on the way the Archbishop looked and acted. Soteri had never seen it before and with his contacts in organized crime, he thought he had seen it all. I should add that the rumor is that Soteri’s past life was a kill or be killed existence. He knew who to fear and who to quietly remove from the ranks of the breathing. Russo was someone to fear. Anthony also knew that the Archbishop was quite irritated that I had escaped them again.
‘He’s covering his tracks well,’ Soteri spoke rather timidly. Probably, he wasn’t quite sure how the soon-to-be Vicar of Christ would take that. ‘I found out where his daughter is and I think he may be there too. Beyond that we don’t have much to go on now. If we don’t catch up to him in D.C. then I think that we should stay somewhere in the U.S. and wait, so if someone sees him, we can get there quickly.’
The Bishop frowned and said, ‘There’s one more thing you need to do. By letter, contact every priest or nun that MacDonald had as a teacher or pastor. Add a current picture. Tell them to contact the Bishop of their Diocese if MacDonald shows up. Then contact every Diocese with his picture. Let them know that we suspect he joined with a radical underground militia that’s plotting to destroy Jesus and that we want to be notified immediately of any communication they have with him. Now move on this. I want that letter out today,’ Russo hung the phone up quickly.
Soteri and Chuckie Hat checked on the phone number they had gotten from Jeanna’s Caller ID. It belonged to a pay phone in Washington, D.C. But that gave them no clues as to the exact location.
“Doesn’t tell us enough, does it?” Hat asked.
“It will be enough. We go to the phone’s location and tomorrow when little Cari comes to make her phone call we’ll just follow her back to the good Doctor MacDonald,” Soteri answered as he slipped into the car and strapped his seat belt for the ride to the nation’s capital.
The two were in place early the next day and waiting. It hadn’t been too long before a woman who strongly resembled Cari MacDonald came strolling to the public phone.
“That’s her!” Hat said.
“Look at the chick. She is glancing around like this is some kind of spy novel. Don’t worry, honey, the mean old bad guys will take care of you quickly,” Soteri said to himself.
They waited. Her conversation lasted about five minutes and then she turned and headed back as she came. Soteri eased the car out of his parking space the moment she rounded the corner. He coasted to a halt at the stop sign and they watched her go down the street two blocks and turn left into a driveway.
Soteri raced the car within a few feet of the drive way and stopped.
“Call Thompson. See if 1147 Cedar Ridge Dr. means anything to him.”
Chuckie Hat pulled his cell phone from his pocket and punch in the numbers.
“Thompson,” the voice on the other end answered. “Who’s this?”
“The Hat, Rev,” Chuckie answered.
“Did you find him?” Thompson said excitedly.
“We trailed his daughter back to 1147 Cedar Ridge Dr. in Riverdale, Md. Does the address mean anything to you?” Chuckie asked.
“I’ll check. Give me a minute.” There was a minute of silence till Prophet Thompson came back on the line. “Well, I think you boys struck pay dirt. That is the home of a pastor from one of the dissenting church groups. What’s even more interesting is that only yesterday we had the report that new information that could be damaging to us emanated from there. Oh and there’s more. The pastor’s wife was a long-time friend of Matthew MacDonald. I even met her at one of our receptions in D.C. years ago. This will be great. You can eliminate MacDonald, his family and this pain-in-the-butt pastor’s family all at one time. I’m telling you, boys, it don’t get any better than this. Nice work. Call me when it’s all done.”
Cari walked into the kitchen and sat down with her mother and Mary Grace.
“Where’s Brian,” Cari asked.
“He took our kids to school and then went to the church office. How was your walk?” Mary Grace inquired.
“Strange,” Cari answered.
“How?” Beth asked. Something didn’t feel right to her.
“I felt like I was followed. I didn’t see anyone but I kept getting this distinct impression that I was being followed. Like some kind of inner voice talking to me. I guess I’m just picking up on everyone’s paranoia,” she said.
Mary Grace slipped out her chair and into the living room. She pulled open a slat from the blinds and peered outside. She could see a black car parked on the other side of the bushes in the front of her house. Her driveway was long and went uphill. If the car pulled in there might be enough time for Beth, Cari and the kids to escape. She hoped it didn’t pull in.
“I think Cari may be right. Cari, tell me something. What did you do on your little walks yesterday and today?” Mary Grace quizzed.
“Nothing.” Cari lied.
“I hope you didn’t make any phone calls because if you did you just put your life and your kid’s lives in danger,” my friend said to her.
“God no!” Cari screamed. “I did call someone. I didn’t believe any of you so I called my friend Jeanna back home.”
“The one who is the secretary at a catholic church?” Beth asked.
“Yes,” Cari said with tears forming in her eyes.
“Call her now and see if two priests stopped in to see her?” Beth commanded.
Cari picked up the phone and dialed Jeanna’s number. “Jeanna, this is Cari. I don’t have time to talk. Just answer a question. Did two priests come in and ask about me?”
“Yeah, yesterday but I thought…”
Cari smashed the phone down on the cradle.
“I screwed up, Mom. What now?”
Mary Grace grabbed her car keys from the hook by the door and yelled back to Beth and Cari, “Grab the kids and use the back door get away plan. A bus should be by in about five minutes. Take it to house that Brian told you to find. I’ll catch up to you there.” She bolted out the door and jumped in her Jeep Cherokee Sport. Her wheels were spinning and throwing dirt as the two priests pulled into the driveway.
Cari grabbed the kids and raced out the back door with Beth carrying whatever luggage she could. The four ran through the backyard and then out to the next street. The bus stop was only a few feet away.
Behind her Beth could hear the sound of crashing metal as Mary Grace rammed her Jeep into the front of the assassins’ car. She could hear Mary Grace’s screams and then a gun shot. Everything went silent and the bus pulled to a stop in front of them.