Divine Destruction (The Return of Divinity Book 1) (28 page)

The screen displayed a frozen image of a car parking lot. It was from high above, presumably on a pole over looking the lot. Joe could see the logos of a national rental chain on what little of the building caught in the frame.

“Run it,” Bryce said to Chris.

Chris tapped the space bar on his keyboard and the video sprang to life. Immediately a Yellow Cab pulled up to the front of the store. The trunk sprang open just before the cab driver emerged. Second out of the car, opposite the camera, was Mr. DeLuca. Mr. DeLuca went to the back of the cab and began hefting shopping bags and other items from the cab's trunk. There were many bags. Someone had been shopping.

Joe could see another figure inside the back of the cab. It was a woman. And, she was gathering up items from the floor board of the back passenger compartment. She emerged from the near camera side of the cab and looked skyward almost directly into the camera. She had two backpacks in her grasp. She too headed for the rear of the cab. As the woman rounded the rear of the taxi, the driver shut the trunk. An employee of the rental company came outside and introductions were made. On camera, the employee made a pointing gesture with what appeared to be a set of car keys.

Chris hit the space bar twice and the video launched into triple normal speed. Bags were taken inside. A car backed up to the store front, it's front pointing in the opposite direction the taxi had come in. The trunk popped open and the employee got out rounding the rental with artificial speed.

Chris smack his space bar again. The video resumed a normal, real time pace. Mr. DeLuca and the unknown female carried bags back and forth to the opened trunk. After three trips, they managed all of the shopping bags and back packs into the car. Joe watched as DeLuca shut the trunk and drove away. The rear license plate clearly visible.

“Bingo,” Chris remarked. Obviously pleased with his own work.

Joe pointed at the twin smaller monitors to the left of Chris and said, “Have you found the female in the previous DeLuca vids?”

“No, not yet sir. It shouldn't be long,” Chris said to Joe.

Joe stood more straight turning back to his office.

“Bryce, let me know if and when you spot her,” Joe said to Bryce, behind him now.

Joe stopped and turned to face the team. They were all in the room, busy doing dozens of tasks.

Almost rhetorically Joe asked, “Do we know where they are going? Anything beyond the latest rental footage?”

“No sir,” Bryce replied. “We should pinpoint them in a couple more hours. The team is very good at their jobs, sir.”

Joe turned and went back to his office. He burned to catch DeLuca now. Burned inside and out. Joe would vent this burning sensation. He had to let this emotion go. Whatever this thing was inside of DeLuca, capitulation or not, it was time to shoot first and ask for forgiveness second.

Aruni clutched her cell, more afraid than she had known in her life. Homeland Security had just left. They had asked questions for over an hour and had torn her and Itishree's apartment to shreds. Everything was overturned.

She looked over the living room from behind the kitchen bar. Her couch was standing on end in the corner. The bottom lining had been cut away with a large combat knife one of the masked S.W.A.T. had produced from a thigh sheath. The over-sized arm chair was upside down. It's bottom lining also cut away. All of the furniture cushions had been cut open. There was stuffing in balls and clumps scattered here and there. Aruni was too afraid to look into any other other rooms. She had not moved since they left. The knife had frightened her when the officer had pulled it from the sheath. She remembered crying out loud at the sight of it. She cried out now then held her own mouth.

She looked at her cell phone again. Her hands shook. She set the phone down and leaned her weight into the counter. Doing the math in her head she knew she would be waking her mother. But this was an emergency, Aruni thought. Itishree was in danger. Her mother had to tell Aunt Mala that her daughter was in trouble. Someone had to talk Itishree out of what she was doing.

Oh god, Aruni thought, they were going to be deported. Maybe jailed. Aruni dropped to her elbows onto the hard counter top and held the back of her head.

She straightened and took in a sharp breath, looking at the cell phone. “I’m sorry Itishree,” Aruni said aloud, and dialed her mother's home number in Pune. It only rang twice.

“Hello,” her mother said. Thank the Gods her mother had answered the phone. Aruni didn't feel she could hold herself together trying to explain this situation to her father without mother defending her and holding dad in check.

“Mother!” Aruni said as she began sobbing. “Mother,” she gasped out again.

“Aruni?” her mother said, distant sounding in the speaker. “What has happened?” her mother demanded.

Aruni could not speak through the shuddering gasps and quakes her body was making as she tried to gain control of herself. She slid down the cabinet doors until she contacted the floor.

“Aruni?” her mother asked over and over.

“Yes mother,” Aruni finally responded.

“What has happened to Itishree? Are you okay?” her mother nearly shouted. Aruni could hear her father now, in the background, telling her siblings to go back to their rooms. She had awakened her entire family.

Aruni took two deep breaths and then told her mother what had happened in the last hour. She told her what the police had said. That Itishree was mixed up with a fugitive named Griffin DeLuca, and then had been caught on film using false identities. Aruni blurted and mixed the story up in a mass confused tornado of statements only her mother could put together.

Her mother's voice became steel after Aruni's mention of the mysterious death of an agent. The family had a lawyer in New York she was to call as soon as she took a bath and straightened the apartment.

After her father had spoken to her and goodbye's were exchange, Aruni fell asleep on the kitchen floor.

Prayer and Knowledge

Griffin had decided it would be best if they only had one room. Two rooms presented too much of a logistical problem if the police came for them in the night. He didn't want to leave Itishree alone in a room, nonetheless. Itishree had put up a small argument, mostly from a standpoint of shyness, he knew. Itishree wouldn't admit it and the conversation died on it's own.

They had eaten at a nearby restaurant within walking distance and Griffin had examined the hotel closely, walking around it from the surrounding plazas. The coast was clear.

As a precaution and also because the train left so early in the morning, Griffin had Itishree lay out the clothes she wanted to wear the next day and to pack everything back into her suitcase. He did the same. Sadly, there was no time to launder their clothes. They would have to travel to New York City with fold lines and odd creases. He didn't mind. Itishree's choices had come on hangers. At least she wouldn't look like a retail fugitive on the run. Griffin knew he would look like a human delivered, cross country, from an amazon.com box.

Itishree sat on the edge of one of the queen beds. It was obvious she was nervous. Griffin did his best to give her as much space as possible in the small hotel room. He sat in the office-like chair at the desk that passed for a work space. They looked at each other unknowing what to do with themselves next. They had each showered and packed away their accessories purchased from the day's shopping. Awkward could not describe the uneasy tension between them.

Gabriel had been long silent during the day. Griffin was waiting for him to intercede and take command to demonstrate whatever it was they were to learn. Or, rather Itishree was to learn and Griffin was to mediate? Transpond? Griffin couldn't find a word to describe his situation. Or, this situation. He was at a loss.

“We should begin,” Gabriel's voice gonged in his head. He was becoming used to feeling the extra set of emotions within this mind without Gabriel's words. The voice in his mind had startled him.

“Gabriel says we should start,” Griffin said to Itishree. She welcomed the news and her attention focused on him.

“He says we need two clean towels.” He rose and walked into the bathroom collecting the last of the towels, the two of them had not used, and returned to his chair.

“What is next?” Itishree asked.

Griffin shrugged and then seemed to stair off into space.

“Gabriel is going to teach us how to pray,” Griffin said. “This is going to go much easier if I allow Gabriel to just take over on autopilot for a while. I don't want to stop this process and honestly I have no idea what or how this is to happen.”

“You can do that?” Itishree asked.

Griffin tilted his head a little, a gesture of wanting a more specific question.

“You can allow Gabriel to take over and then regain control from him?” Itishree wondered aloud.

“Yes, to a degree. Gabriel is a gracious intruder,” Griffin said smiling.

Itishree watched Griffin relax, and she knew the next sentence was going to be Gabriel's and not from Griffin. She wasn't wrong.

“Child,” Gabriel began. “There are many holy places and artifacts on Earth. It would be acceptable to pray in the direction of any of them. Some pray facing Mecca. Some to those erected shrines or altars.”

Itishree stood and moved to the closest corner of the bed, nearest Griffin.

Gabriel continued, “With my presence, I am the most holy. During this, your first sanctified prayer to God, you will become the most holy.”

Itishree smiled. Did she smile from pride or fear? Griffin could only watch and wonder.

“Are you ready, our Mother?” Gabriel asked.

Itishree's eyes began to water. She was stricken with that expression.

Swallowing hard she said, “Yea-yes.”

Gabriel took time to introduce what humans consider the islamic method of prayer. Except, Gabriel didn't bother with the multiple repetitions, there was no need for either of them to show humbleness before God. Once they were settled and facing each other on their knees, Gabriel began his open prayer.

“Father, receive your loyal servant. I request of you, hear my prayer. Before me is your prophet, Itishree. She is ready to begin her journey, my father. Please welcome her into your family and bless her with your majesty.” Gabriel said with closed eyes. Griffin's closed eyes.

Itishree watched Griffin-Gabriel with fierce intent.

The Archangel continued, “Father we seek your blessing. The path ahead is dangerous. Bless our feet so they may step upon sacred ground. The path ahead will be uncertain. Bless our eyes so that we may know thy wisdom. The path ahead is beyond paramount importance. Bless our responsibilities so we can carry your burden.”

Griffin's eyes opened and while Itishree gazed at them their color changed from green to sapphire blue. Above Griffin's head a radiant circle began to glow. The circle was about sixteen inches across and the light flowed into it from the top and circled around the hoop. If a tiny black hole could exist as a ring, this is what it would look like. The expression on Itishree's face was beyond description. Her wide eyes were unblinking.

Gabriel nodded to Itishree. It was her turn to pray. Griffin watched Itishree thinking about what to say. What to ask? She became instantly overwhelmed. Her eyes filled with tears and they began to flow down her cheeks. Gabriel smiled with Griffin's face.

“Child, you will not be judged here,” Gabriel said. His even tone was a welcome place among the stress of the situation.

Itishree closed her eyes and more tears sprang and ran. She cupped her hands together and blow out a long breath. She had told Griffin her parents had not been very religious people themselves but they respected others and their beliefs.

“My Lord, please forgive me. My heart has always been filled with love of those around me. I haven't known want nor have I asked for anything I could not achieve myself. But hear me Lord, I accept the responsibility you have given me, and I am afraid. Please bless me and Griffin in the days ahead. We will need your help and your love. Thank you Lord for the blessing of Gabriel. He has convinced me of your charge and I accept his presence. Please do not take him from us until we have completed your will.”

Through Gabriel, Griffin could sense some of her emotions. Itishree felt she didn't deserve such importance. She wept again. All these tasks were hers but she didn't feel important. She felt blessed.

Itishree asked, “Lord, please grant us your blessing.”

She opened her eyes and looked at him, them. There was a warmth about her he adored.

Gabriel said, “Amen,” and gave a blessing of peace upon him and Itishree.

“Amen,” Itishree said and repeated Gabriel's blessing.

They rose together.

“I’ll have Griffin purchase proper prayer rugs for both of you,” Gabriel said when he came back from putting the towels away. Itishree sat in the office chair now making those snickered gasping sounds children make when they've cried for a long time. Gabriel sat across from her and looked at her for several moments. Itishree fought to take charge of her breathing and soon she was settled.

“This is the eighth message from God I have brought to a prophet for mankind,” Gabriel began. “Unfortunately, each time a message has been delivered and given to mankind it has spawned a new and different religion. Few people alive know of all eight. None realize they are to be combined. This is the first part of the message you will teach mankind. There are three separate messages you must teach.”