Inside Lucifer's War (26 page)

”And now you’re here because you need my help?”

“That’s right,” James says.

Still venting, I add, “You lie to me and then come here and ask me to keep something quiet. Now, you’re asking for my help. You’re unbelievable. How are you different from the Principal?”

“We like to believe that we’re the good guys,” he says.

“What do you want from me?” I ask, losing patience.

“We want your help in bringing them down or at least significantly disrupting them,” he says. “We know that you’re supposed to become a key member for them. We want you to do everything they ask, but also provide us with information.”

“You want me to spy for you?” I ask.

“We want you to do your job, but provide us with information while you do that job,” Allison says.

I scoff. “I would call that a spy. You must be desperate if you think I can help. You have the wrong man for the job. What makes you think I could do this even if I wanted to? I’m a teacher and a writer. I don’t know the first thing about working undercover.”

“You’re a brilliant, confident man who can earn the trust of the Principal through your hard work,” Allison says. “All we’re asking is that you occasionally provide us with information we can use against the Principal.”

Flattery works slightly, but still I’m not convinced. “Why should I help you? I mean, the smart thing for me is to tell them about this conversation. If I’m really a brilliant man, that’s the smart play. So what’s in this for me?”

They stare at each other for a minute. Then James hands me his phone and pulls up a photo album. “Flip through those photos. I believe you know the woman.”

I recognize the woman immediately from the first photo. Paige. But something is odd about what she’s doing in the photos. Finally, it dawns on me. “She’s watching someone.”

“Very good. Yes, we’ve noticed her watching someone for the past several days,” James confirms. He then takes the phone and opens another album. “We were able to get access to her phone and download the images from it.” He hands me back his phone.

My heart leaps to my throat when I see the first picture. I recognize the building in the background. I sit up higher in my bed and hunch over the photo. “That’s Stacie Fischer’s apartment, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” James says.

I flip through more photos. They’re all pictures of Stacie. Her apartment, her car, her office. There are many pictures of her involved in various activities.

“I don’t understand why Paige would have these,” I comment.

“We think Paige is working for Kinsley McKee,” Allison says. “We don’t think she is aware of the depths of the organization. However, she’s sending this information to Kinsley.”

“But what does it mean?” I press.

“We think Stacie is in danger,” Allison sighs. “We believe the Principal is going to kill her. More precisely, we believe Kinsley and Bishop, as you know them, are going to arrange her murder. We haven’t seen any leads to suggest this is a full-blown Principal initiative. Based on some of the messages we’ve intercepted, we believe that as soon as you’re out of town, they’ll eliminate Stacie.”

“Why? She isn’t involved in anything. This makes no sense,” I plead.

“We thought so as well,” James says. “We were starting to wonder if the Principal was getting reckless, which is very unlike them. We have a theory, though.” He pauses to gauge my interest.

“Please,” I say.

“We believe Andrew came across some information that posed a threat to the Principal,” James says. “Based on Andrew’s Internet searches, it looks like he was digging into the Principal’s associations. Our guess is that Andrew stumbled across something that made the Principal nervous. Based on what Allison was able to learn from Megan over a couple of evenings, Andrew was talking too much about sensitive information. The Principal ultimately took him out. They weren’t satisfied with that, though. They ransacked his apartment, and we believe they want to get into his office at the university. He must have had something they want back. We’re not sure what it is. We’re concerned, and this is where our theory gets stretched a bit, that the Principal believes that whatever information Andrew had, he either told you about it or gave it to you. Maybe you didn’t even realize he slipped you something.”

“If I have it, whatever
it
is, then why not go after me? Why go after Stacie?” I ask.

“They need you, and so far you’ve been a good soldier. What they fear is, because Stacie has access to you, she might come across this information. In Paige’s texts, we found a reference about Stacie and Mike letting themselves into your apartment. Our guess is that they’re worried either you gave Stacie or Mike the information or they might stumble onto it themselves. Obviously, with Mike gone their focus is on Stacie. Like I said, it’s a theory. Maybe you can fill in some blanks for us.”

“How can I help?” I ask.

“Did Andrew give you any information about the Principal?” James asks.

“Perhaps. There’s no way Stacie knows about any of it, though,” I tell him.

“It doesn’t matter whether she does or doesn’t. It only matters what the Principal thinks,” he replies.

“If you know all this about the Principal, why don’t you arrest them?” I ask.

“It’s not that simple,” James says. “We don’t have anything concrete on them. We don’t have enough to make it past a grand jury. If we show them the pictures on Paige’s phone, she could simply chalk it up to jealousy. If we find a very lenient judge, we might be able to get a restraining order on her, but there’s no way they would make the connection to conspiracy to commit murder. If we were to take this to court, all of our information would be compromised, and how we got that information would be exposed. Our operation would fall apart at that moment. It would paralyze us. Even if we were successful with this prosecution, ultimately we could get convictions only on some low-level operatives. The organization would strengthen itself, and the upper echelon would further protect themselves. We need information about the higher-ups. Only when we get the key players can we disrupt their network.”

“I understand why you want me to help you get to the inner circle,” I say, “but how does my involvement help Stacie? Her safety is what concerns me most.”

“Our agency goes to great lengths to protect the families and friends of our assets,” Allison says. “You would be an asset. If Stacie is important to you, we could protect her.”

My blood pressure rises. “Let me get this straight. You know they may have ordered Stacie killed, but you can’t do anything because her life isn’t valuable to your operation. But if I work for you, suddenly her life becomes valuable?”

She looks at me and says, “I’m telling you how the world is, not how the world should be. If you want to change the world, then join us.”

“I honestly don’t know,” I say, looking away from them. “I need to think this through.”

“We understand,” James says. “Unfortunately, time is something we don’t have. We’ll assume that if we don’t hear from you before you leave town with the Principal that you’ve rejected our offer. We won’t approach you again. You should also know, though, that if you work for them, you’ll be on our list of people to take down.”

“Seems like the world is suddenly in a rush,” I tell him.

“I guess so,” he says. “I’m texting you our numbers. If you need to contact us, use those numbers. Also, you can’t tell anyone about this conversation. No one. If you talk to anyone, you put all of our lives at risk, including Stacie’s.”

“I understand,” I say.

As soon as they leave, I pull out my phone. I confirm that the two numbers are in my messages. That’s not what I’m interested in, though. I type out the message, “Urgent! Need to talk to you ASAP! Come by. Do not call!”

I hope Stacie responds. I won’t lie or keep any information from her anymore. She deserves to know the truth.

C
HAPTER 24

Decisions

When it comes to decisions, there are four types of people in the world. There are those who gather the facts, make the decision, and have no regrets. On the opposite extreme, there are those who are paralyzed by information and unable to make a decision. Between those two extremes are those who ponder their choices over and over, fearing the regrets they may have, but once having made the decision, they are able to move on. Then there are those who gather information, make the decision, and then ponder the decision over and over, trying not to have any regrets.

There was a time a few weeks ago when I was in the first camp. I gathered information, made my decision, and had no regrets. Over the last few weeks, I find myself struggling with regret so much that I seem now to be in the other extreme—unable to make a decision for fear of regret.

After James and Allison left, it was clear I needed help. That was another reason why I called Stacie. If I had known what I would do to save us all, I would have kept it to myself, but things had changed. I didn’t want to lay this burden on Stacie, but she needs to know. More than that, I need her help.

The first person who enters my room, though, is not Stacie. It is a custodian. His back is turned to me, and he is pulling a bucket with a mop sticking out of it. He moves slowly until he’s clear of the door. He shuts the door, lets the mop handle fall against the wall, and turns slowly toward me. His head is tilted to the side, and he has a slight grin. My scar burns. When I look into his eyes, I scramble back into my bed. It is the creature. The creature I loathe.

Trying to sound confident, I ask, “Why the disguise? I know who you are.”

With a slithering tongue, he responds, “Why indeed?” His body transforms into the gruesome creature I recall. He seems to relish his disgusting form.

“Why are you here? I haven’t done anything wrong,” I say. “I have an agreement with the master, and I plan on carrying it out.”

“To think he would have us someday serve such worthless filth!” he says. “Why you received so much of his love is incomprehensible. To love you over us! You are sick, unable to control yourself. So easily manipulated. So easily led astray. No more value than sheep that wander fields aimlessly looking for their master. I relish your reckoning.”

“What do you want?” I ask.

“The master sent me,” he says. “He has an assignment for you. Convenient that he sent me, though. I wanted to personally tell you how much we enjoyed killing Mike. Too bad we didn’t kill the other one. We could have saved you the trouble.”

I am filled with an uncontrollable rage and leap at the creature. Within an instant, he has me clutched by the neck and is pinning me on my back against the bed. His hand squeezes tight around my throat, and I struggle to breathe. He climbs over me, restraining himself from delivering a crushing blow.

“One mistake, and I am your destruction,” he says, loosening his grip on me.

I realize that attacking him is futile, and my abdomen has a shooting pain where the bullet wound is. I allow the rage to settle in my mind. “What did you mean by saving me the trouble?” I ask. “What is it that the master wants of me?”

“You are to kill the Stacie woman,” he says.

I can’t hide the expression on my face. “What did you say?”

“You heard me, you weak and pathetic human.”

“I know you hate me and look forward to my destruction,” I say. My voice shaking. “But I need to understand what the master has asked of me.”

“You are to kill the Stacie woman,” he repeats. “This is your test of loyalty. Who do you really love?”

“How am I supposed to do this?” I ask. “I’m not a killer. I don’t know how to kill. You said it yourself, I’m weak and pathetic.”

He grabs my arm. He turns my hand over and lays out four pills in my palm. “It only takes the powder of one of these capsules to kill her. Like Alexander the Great, it will kill her slowly over a period of about a week. By the time she realizes she needs medical help, it will be too late. The poison is masked, and no one will be able to trace it back to you. It is an ancient brew.”

I stare at the pills, unsure of how I will now get out of this. Out of the corner of my eye I see him smile.

“If you like,” he says, “we can do it a different way. In human form, I can help you break into her apartment, rape her, and slit her throat. Maybe we will get lucky and get her roommate as well.”

He laughs as his body transforms back into the custodian. No sooner is his transformation complete than Stacie enters the room. Fear races through my mind. Could he trap her right here and force me to do it now?

I blurt out, “Stacie, please get the nurse. I have a shooting pain in my leg, and I’m not sure what it is. I’m really worried.”

For a second, Stacie looks at the janitor with a funny expression on her face, and then she bolts out the door. I hear her calling for the nurse in the hallway.

The creature looks at me and makes his way out the door. Before leaving, he turns to me and says, “You know the rules. Be smart and do this. There is no warning. There is no second chance. She dies or I kill you for eternity.”

Another decision. What would the person I was six months ago do? What should the person I am today do? What is the way out? I can’t see any way out. I recall my brain scan. I dismiss it. This is too real to be a vision, to be a dream. Yet I am at a loss for what to do when Stacie and the nurse hurriedly enter.