Inside Lucifer's War (15 page)

Kinsley’s eyes never leave mine. I look around the table. Everyone is looking at me, some with more interest than others. Before I can speak, Vijay interjects.

“The obvious question you must have is what you would be doing for us. My good friend Kinsley perhaps jumped too quickly to the money and perks. We want you to do what you do best: research, write, and lecture. As part of your research, you will be meeting with some of the most important people around the globe.”

“Research and write what, exactly?” I ask, knowing exactly what it will entail.

Kinsley quickly commands the conversation again. “I don’t believe in being coy. Ultimately, you will write what we ask you to write. Having said that, what we will ask of you will be along the lines of what you have been doing throughout your professional career. The primary thing we will need is for you to write a book on how to bring peace to the world. This will not be just any theoretical, peace-loving, hippy-dancing book about nirvana. We believe we can connect the dots to make it actually happen. And you are one of the dots. We can give you access to people and resources you would never be able to get on your own. One after another, we can make the dominoes fall with your help. We can do great things together.”

“Why me?” I ask, trying to think through this.

“Because you believe the same thing we do. As long as there is a Christ, there will be no peace. You can’t say it exactly that way, but that’s where your expertise comes in. The way you shape the conversation, well, you are a master at subversive destruction. That’s what we need. We need the money to dry up for these mission causes. We need to speed along the post-Christian era. We’ve made a lot of strides in terms of subtle legislation here and there to remove funds and create restrictions using the notion of separation of church and state. The time for subtlety is over. We need to bend people’s minds. We believe the culture is now ripe for it.”

I reflect on the fact that Jesus is referred to as the Prince of Peace in the book of Isaiah, and now Kinsley is saying there can be no peace with Jesus in the world. That thought quickly passes, though, and I reflect on his phrase “subversive destruction.” Is that how the world views my work?

“How much freedom will I have in what I write?” I ask.

“I’m not worried about that,” replies Kinsley. “As long as our agendas are the same, there shouldn’t be any issues. You can be a part of something so much bigger than anything you could ever imagine. We’re on the verge of restructuring the world and the global economy. This is the revolution to end all revolutions. You have the opportunity to be a designer of all that.”

To be honest with myself, I have to confess at being frightened by the power this group seems to possess. Not even the most delusional megalomaniac would talk as Kinsley has these past few minutes without enormous power and influence behind them.

“I’m enormously flattered by your offer and your high regard for my work,” I say, still churning on “subversive destruction. “I appreciate the offer, gentlemen. But I need some time to consider it. May I give you an answer by Friday?”

My delay is, in part, due to fear, though I know I have no real choice.

“We’ll need an answer by Tuesday at the latest,” Kinsley answers sharply. “The clock is ticking. Things are in motion. If you can’t do this, we’ll quickly need to find someone else.”

“Tuesday, then,” I answer.

“I hope you understand what a great opportunity this is for you, Thomas. Please don’t make me think that we wasted our time by meeting with you. I know Mr. Stavros will be very disappointed if you aren’t part of our team. If it is a money thing, I’m sure we can work that out,” Kinsley says in a very business-like manner.

“I appreciate the earnestness and gravity of the situation, gentlemen. Certainly, I would hate to waste anyone’s time. Please remember, though, you approached me. I didn’t approach you. Let me be honest with you. I don’t respond well when I feel I’m being pressured to make a decision. I’m beginning to feel that pressure coming from you now. As I said, I will give you my answer by Tuesday.” I suddenly hear Lucifer’s words in my mind,
You will make the right decisions at the right times. Of that, I also have no doubt.

Kinsley smiles. “I apologize, Thomas. I didn’t mean to pressure you. Time, however, is placing a great deal of pressure on all of us. I can appreciate what you’re saying. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do for you, and thank you for coming this weekend.”

With that, he escorts me out of the room. I look down and see Andrew waving to get my attention. Kinsley comments, “It looks like Andrew is having a difficult time handling those two ladies and needs your assistance. Good luck, Thomas. I look forward to hearing from you.”

As I walk down the stairs, I berate myself. What was I thinking? Was I trying to be coy, or was I legitimately pushing back? Who cares if it were legitimate? This is an opportunity of a lifetime. Besides, I have no choice. This is what Lucifer told me to do. I’m a step away from running back to the conference room when I hear Andrew’s voice.

“Thomas! It’s about time you came down. I want you to meet someone. This is the lady I told you about earlier,” Andrew says introducing me to a blonde most likely in her early thirties.

I can tell that Andrew has forgotten her name again. Instead of easily letting him off the hook, though, I make him squirm a bit.

“Oh, yes, I believe that you said her name was Amber. Or is it Alice? Which was it, Andrew? You’re right, though. She is certainly smokin’,” I say with a laugh. “Hi, my name is Tom.” I reach out my hand. It’s odd to introduce myself as Tom. I rarely do that.

With a smile, she responds, “Hi, Tom. I’m Ashley.”

She takes my hand as I give her a kiss on her left cheek. She smells like Chanel, one of my favorite perfumes, and her cheek is soft to the kiss.

Andrew then introduces me to Megan, the redhead.

I fetch some drinks from the bar, and we make our way to a high, round table surrounded by stools. It’s a bit off to the side, where the music is not as loud. Andrew dominates much of the conversation, but in a good way. Truth be told, I’m happy to relax and let him entertain us. He’s a great storyteller, and he has the whole table laughing. As we talk, the waitstaff keep us supplied with drinks and food. It is a pleasant, relaxing evening orchestrated by Andrew.

Although Megan and Ashley say they know each other, it is clear that their friendship is new and they don’t know as much about each other as I had previously thought. They enjoy letting Andrew lead the discussion, and they don’t seem to mind our attention.

Throughout the evening, Megan increasingly shows an interest in Andrew. I can see that her hand has moved from her lap to his knee. At one point, she turns his head and aggressively kisses him, which makes me feel a bit awkward. Ashley seems surprised as well.

Increasingly, I’m feeling out of sorts. I haven’t had that much to drink, so I wonder if it’s the stress of the weekend, some bad food, or if I’m coming down with something. I panic at the thought that Lucifer is going to visit me again.

Without thinking, I ask Ashley if she would like to mingle with the crowd for a bit. As we get up to leave, Andrew leans over to me and says, “Don’t wait up.”

I wink back and finish my bourbon and Coke. I see Ashley in front of me with her hand stretched back, reaching for me. I think she looks good in her tight dress. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s urgently pulling me along.

And that’s the last thing I remember that night.

C
HAPTER 15

The Murder After

I slowly open my eyes and face a large window with huge curtains. I look around the room and see a round table with a computer and file folders around it. I have no idea where I am. I slowly roll my head back. There is a small sink and bathroom to the side. A nightstand is next to me with some of my things. It slowly dawns on me. I’m in the suite. I look next to me, but I’m alone in my bed.

I sit up, still wondering what has happened. Did I really drink that much? What happened last night? Has Lucifer visited me? Nothing makes sense. He would want me to remember his visit. I simply can’t put the pieces together. I look at the clock: seven thirty-six. I remember that Bruce told us to be in the lobby at nine thirty. So I get out of bed and stumble into the bathroom. I take a long, hot shower, hoping something will jog my memory. If nothing else, it will get me moving.

After showering, shaving, and getting dressed, I still have no memory of anything after following Ashley into the crowd. I do feel a little better, though. I step into the common area of the suite. Something isn’t right. The room is a mess. There are open wine bottles in the kitchen and magazines scattered across the carpet. There is a powdery mess on the coffee table and several empty glasses. Was there a party here last night? How could that be? I don’t recall hearing anything. And I definitely don’t recall being at a party.

I suddenly remember Andrew’s files under my mattress. I dash back into my room to see if they are there. When I lift the mattress, I see the folders. I grab them and slide them into my briefcase between some other folders. I have to think of a way to get them back to Andrew without his noticing, but that will have to wait.

I remember Andrew telling me not to interrupt him, but I need answers and it’s getting close to time to leave. I walk over to his door to knock, but the door is ajar. I gently push it open and peek inside. I can tell that Andrew is still asleep, and it looks like the redhead is next to him.

I knock and call out, “Hey, Andrew. It’s time to get ready. We have to get going.”

There is no response. I yell louder. “Andrew! Get up! We’ve got to go.”

There is no movement. Something is not right. I push the door open and yell again, “Andrew!”

I step into his room slowly. Something is odd about the way he is sleeping. I walk over to push him awake. As I reach toward him, I look over his shoulder and see Megan staring back at me. I fly backward, startled, and fall against the entertainment center.

“I’m sorry. I yelled, but no one responded. I thought you were asleep,” I say.

There is no response. I look at her again and feel a fright come over me as I study her eyes. Although her eyes are open, she’s not looking at anything. She’s dead!

I walk around to her side and touch her neck slowly, gently. Every horror movie I’ve ever seen fills my mind. Is she going to whip her head around and attack me? But she doesn’t move. I try to find a pulse, but I can’t feel anything. Her neck is cold.

I pull the covers back and grab her right arm. She is naked, or at least half naked. I quickly cover her back up, leaving her arm exposed. I can’t find a pulse on her wrist either. I look at her head to see if there is any trauma, but I don’t see any blood. She didn’t die in her sleep, though, or her eyes wouldn’t be open. She was awake when she died.

My fixation with her is broken when I suddenly think of Andrew. I look at him.

“No, no, no!” I yell. I rush over to his side and push him hard. “Wake up, Andrew. Get up, Andrew!” He doesn’t move, though. Like Megan, he has no pulse. I immediately start CPR, but I know it is of no use. His lips are purple and his body is cold. I pound my fist on his chest and cry out.

Exhausted, I stumble backward and sit down on his briefcase on the chair. I grab the briefcase out from underneath me. It is open. I notice that some of his folders are lying on the chair and some are strewn on the floor. I stick some of the papers into a folder, close the folders, and put them in his briefcase. I realize his laptop isn’t in the case. I scan the room but don’t see it.

It hits me. Someone else was in this room last night. Somebody other than Andrew and Megan. As crazy and wild as Andrew thought he was, he never would have scattered his folders around the room or misplaced his laptop. My heart begins to race. I am frightened and unsure of what to do. I put my hands on my head, and for a brief second, I think of the Jewish man who talked to me after my lecture.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see something slowly moving. I swallow hard and very slowly turn my head toward the bed. The sheets over Andrew are moving. I see his upper body sit up, almost in a stiff, robot-like fashion. His head turns slowly toward me. He looks at me with cold, dead eyes and says, “
You will make the right decisions at the right times. Of that, I also have no doubt.”

I fall backward in the chair and hit my shoulders and head against the floor. I feel a sharp pain shoot down my arm, but I jump up, ready to run. I look back at the bed, wondering how I’m going to get past Andrew, who I know from so many horror movies will be blocking my exit. He isn’t though. His body is still next to Megan’s. Nothing is disturbed. His arm is exactly where I left it. Have I imagined all this, or did Lucifer or one of his demons speak through him?

I have many questions but only one answer. I have to get out of that room and back to Austin. I decide right then to take a commercial flight back to Austin. I need to stay away from Kinsley, Bruce, Bishop, and the rest of the Principal. Of course, they had something to do with Andrew and Megan’s death.

I sprint out of the room and slam into somebody. I recoil and start to run.

“Whoa, hold on there, Dr. Fields,” I hear a familiar voice say. I gather myself and realize I’ve run into and bounced off of Bruce. He and Bishop are standing in the living room. I hadn’t heard them come in. Strange that they entered without knocking.