Kingdom Come - The Final Victory (28 page)

Ignace had paused during the tour and stared at a clean desk in the back of the third room. “Someone work here?” he said.

“Oh, uh . . . yeah . . . I mean, no. No one. Well, sometimes if we have special projects, you know. I’ve been known to work here if I need room to spread out. And you have too, haven’t you, Sarsour?”

“What?”

“Worked here, right here where this extra space is. We like to keep it free for . . . you know. You have, right? Worked here?”

“Not in a long time. Not since—”

“Well, I settled in there recently for one of my all-night newsletter-writing stints. And I know Sarsour has worked there too . . . at least he used to, before. Recently.”

Finally Ignace’s entire entourage crowded into Mudawar’s office, some in chairs, some sitting on the desk, others leaning against the wall. Ignace asked Mudawar to give them an update on their recruit list and strategy, then reminded him that “Kenny here is one of our only two operatives embedded near Jerusalem. We’ve got real potential for a cell in Beersheba, but that’s going to take time.

“Kenny has interesting recruitment ideas I wanted him to outline for you, not because you need it, necessarily, and certainly not because you’ve been doing it wrong. If anything, you’ve been going about this better than we have, and we didn’t even know it until Kenny pointed it out.”

Mudawar was beaming. “Really?”

“Yes. Kenny?”

“Well, I was just mentioning to Ignace and the others that it seems to me the best strategy for recruiting the young disaffected of our world is not through this bait-and-switch technique of luring them to parties and illicit activities and substances. We want them for their minds, and so that is where we ought to be aiming. . . .”

Within minutes everyone was furiously taking notes, and Kenny was having a major crisis of conscience. He knew he had to keep this up to avoid giving himself away, but he would never forgive himself if his counsel had the effect
TOL
so desired—building a better, smarter network of brighter adherents.

KENNY
COULD
not have been happier to be getting home a day earlier than he expected, and he knew Ekaterina would be pleased too. His hope was to surprise her and be waiting at her home when she returned from work.

Imagine his surprise when her parents greeted him with less than enthusiasm. They appeared grim, preoccupied. Kenny remained upbeat, exulting over the change in his schedule that allowed this. “Is something wrong?”

“Well, we don’t know,” Mrs. Risto said. “Ekaterina sounded rather upset, said Mr. Steele had called an emergency meeting of some little group of yours and asked her to be there.”

Kenny almost blurted the name of the Millennium Force, but he was surprised enough that Raymie would have invited Ekaterina. What in the world was up, and why hadn’t he heard directly from Raymie? Raymie knew that Kat knew about the Force, because Kenny had told him himself.

“Do you know where they’re meeting?” Kenny said.

The Ristos shook their heads. “We don’t appreciate this, you know,” Ekaterina’s father said. “This whole period is supposed to be a time of peace and tranquility. I don’t know what this little group is all about, but it can’t be positive if it has to have emergency meetings that its members—specifically you—know nothing about, and that an outsider—specifically Kat—is asked to attend, and which upset her so. She’s enough on edge because you were gone. Now what is all this?”

“I don’t know, sir, but I’ll find out. Kat’s peace of mind is my top priority too, so I’ll get to the bottom of this as fast as I can.”

On his way home, Kenny tried calling everyone, starting with Ekaterina. Her phone immediately went to her message system, as did Raymie’s and Bahira’s and Zaki’s. Finally, as he was entering his own house, Kenny reached his mother.

“Oh, Kenny! Where are you?”

He told her. “What’s going on, Mom?”

“I wish I knew. It’s like our office has been vandalized.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, those silly things like the phony personnel report on Kat and the ridiculous note about you could have come from anywhere within the interoffice mail system. But someone walked off with our employee list, and now we’ve gotten another crazy report.”

So the list Kenny had seen in Paris had not been the result of a computer hacking; someone had provided the actual printout. He didn’t even want his mother to know that yet. “What crazy report?”

“Oh, it’s so upsetting, I’m not even going to try to tell you about it except in person. Can Dad and I come see you tonight?”

“Well, sure, but right now I’m looking for Kat. She’s supposed to be meeting with the Millennium Force, but I don’t know where.”

“
You
don’t know where? Just call Raymie and—”

“ ’C’mon, Mom, you don’t think I’ve thought of that? Now what’s this report?”

“Like I told you, it’s not something I want to talk about over the phone.”

“Just tell me what it’s about.”

She hesitated. “Well, it’s about you. But that’s all I’m going to say for now.”

Kenny dropped his stuff in his room and noticed something strange. The chair before his computer was out, away from the desk. He tended to be fastidious about stuff like that. He always pushed the chair back in and left the mouse in the same position. It looked skewed too.

Great;
now I’m imagining things.

He tried calling everybody again. What were the odds they had all turned their phones off without it being on purpose? They didn’t want to hear from him! Why? They couldn’t have known he was going to be home earlier, or he would have been invited to the meeting. Wouldn’t he?

Frustrated at being so helpless, he struck out for the Valley Bistro. The Force didn’t always have its meetings there, but it was worth a shot. At least it was a place Kat would know how to get to, and maybe they made it easy for her.

Kenny arrived to find them in the back room with, of all people, Qasim Marid. In an instant, Kenny knew something was terribly wrong. Raymie was pale and appeared grim. Zaki looked shell-shocked, as did Bahira. Qasim appeared stunned to see Kenny, but of course Kenny was most curious about Ekaterina. Her face was red, her eyes puffy. As soon as she saw him, she gathered up a sheaf of papers that appeared to be the same as everyone else’s and bolted from the restaurant.

Kenny followed, but she was sprinting. “Kat!” he hollered. “Wait just a minute!”

She stopped and whirled, pointing at him. “I don’t want to talk to you, Kenneth Williams. I don’t ever want to see you again.”

He stepped closer. “Kat, wait. I deserve to know—”

“Don’t you dare!” she said. And she turned and kept going.

Kenny staggered back into the bistro and into the back room. “I want to know what’s going on,” he said. “And I want to know now.”

Bahira was the only person who would look at him. And she looked like death. “You’ve been found out is all,” she said.

“Found out?”

Raymie looked up. “We know where your true loyalties lie,” he said. “You can end the charade.”

Kenny plopped into the seat Kat had vacated. “I’m listening,” he said. “What are the charges?”

Raymie said sadly, “You can have my copy. I don’t need to see any more.” He slid it across to Kenny and stood. The others rose also. “Why don’t you look this over, and if there’s anything more to be said, well, you know where to find us.”

“Well, but, what—?”

“We’re leaving, Kenny. The ball is in your court.”

“Can’t we talk about this, whatever it is?”

Raymie shook his head as the others left. “Not right now. We’re not in the mood.”

Kenny fingered the pages and looked at the first page as a waitress came and asked if he wanted anything. All he could do was shake his head as he read a memo dated three days prior:

To: Ignace Jospin, Executive Director

The Other Light International

Paris, France

From: Operative 88288, Kenneth Bruce Williams

Israel

Re: Progress

First, Ignace, it was great to reunite with you and your brother despite the sad occasion of your cousin’s death. It had been too long, and communicating like this is never as good as in person, especially when we share such a bond.

I very much look forward to seeing you and Lothair in Paris and thank you in advance for making available to me the lovely Nicolette again. The nights can otherwise be lonely in a strange city, even one as beautiful as your capital.

You’ll be pleased to know that my parents remain wholly in the dark. It’s nice that they are so naïve. I don’t doubt their sincerity, but the blind devotion believing parents have in their offspring makes duping them so easy. My dull-witted mother remains convinced that I share her beliefs and points to the night she claims to have “led” me to Jesus. Well, Mom, you have to mean it if you pray that prayer.

I trust you got the personnel printout. My mother is making noises about putting locks on the doors; my access to her office won’t cross her mind this Millennium.

My uncle Raymie suspects nothing. I’m sure he was brought in on the Risto personnel matter, plus the later defaming note about yours truly. Imagine if they even dreamed I planted both those myself.

Rest assured your fears over the new girlfriend are unfounded. She’s no Nicolette, but she’s cute enough and more naïve than my mother. Her parents are homely, swarthy little people who worship the ground I walk on. Her father was apparently a spectacularly unremarkable tradesman, and her mother is basically a nondescript homebody. They will not be an issue. I may even go through with marrying this girl, which will only make my work for you at
COT
that much easier. She is in another department, which merely broadens my reach.

I’ll provide a virtual core dump of other vital information when I arrive. Keep Nicolette warm until I get there. I’ll see you soon.

Loyal to the Other Light forever,

KBW

Kenny was nauseated. Where did one begin to try to defend himself against such a detailed, devastating document? He scooped up the pages and stood, woozy and feeling utterly alone. His parents would visit that evening. That loomed as an oasis. Surely they wouldn’t believe a word of this.

But who wrote this, and where did they get their information? The nuances, the detail, made it so much worse. And yet it was so dead-on that Kenny was surprised someone didn’t see through it. What were the odds that almost every line would incriminate him?

Naturally Kenny had never faced a crisis like this, but in the past when he had what now appeared minor, petty issues, he’d turned first to his mother, then maybe to Raymie or his dad. Who could he turn to now? For all they knew, he was what the document purported: a turncoat. Hardly anyone had been spared.

“Lord, You’re all I have left,” Kenny prayed as he headed toward home. “Please tell me You’re still here.”

He nearly wept with relief when he felt the peace only Jesus could give, but still Kenny had no idea how to dig himself out of this.

And what was that vehicle that had crossed at the corner ahead of him? It looked like the van that had delivered him back to Israel. When it stopped, turned around, and came toward him, he stopped and stared. The window was lowered and Nicolette leaned out.

Kenny wanted to run, to warn her to stay away from him, but he couldn’t jeopardize his cover with
TOL
, regardless of whether they were behind trying to ruin him.

She jumped out and approached. “We missed our turn,” she said. “Ignace wants to fly out of Tel Aviv.”

“Back the way you came,” Kenny said, still reeling and desperate to cover. “That’ll take you to the main route toward Tel Aviv and the airport.”

“You’re a peach,” Nicolette said, leaning close to kiss him on the cheek.

“Yeah, yeah, see ya,” Kenny said, only realizing as she pulled away from him that Lothair had been hanging out the window and had shot a picture of the kiss.

CAMERON
WILLIAMS
sat steely eyed and somber in Kenny’s living room as Chloe wept. He didn’t know what to think. His son was denying everything, which he would do whether innocent or guilty. Admittedly, the document that Qasim Marid claimed he had retrieved off Ignace Jospin’s desk in Paris had so many glaring incriminations in it that it could easily have been a setup. But who would do such a thing, and who would know enough details to pull it off?

“There’s not a doubt in my mind that Qasim is behind this for all kinds of reasons,” Kenny said. “But how would I ever prove that?”

“Call me a typical mother,” Chloe said, looking pleadingly at Cameron, “but I believe him.”

“Of course you do, and I want to, too.”

“You
want
to, Dad? My word is not good enough for you? You always taught me to live in such a way that if someone brought a charge against me, no one would believe it. What have I done, how have I lived, that makes no one but my mother believe me?”

“Yes, Cam,” Chloe said. “That’s a good question.”

Cameron sighed. “Maybe I know something you don’t, Chloe.”

“Oh, great!” Kenny said. “There’s more?”

“I got an anguished call from Abdullah this afternoon. He saw you at
TOL
headquarters in Amman today, Kenny.”

“What? What was he doing there?”

“So you
were
there?” Chloe said.

“Of course I was! Didn’t everyone know where I was and what I was doing? I was undercover, infiltrating.”

“And—” Cameron said.

“Oh no, Dad. What now?”

“Qasim delivered our copy of the memo to
COT
. Raymie and I had it evaluated by a computer techie. It was sent from your computer, Kenny.”

Kenny just sat shaking his head.

“There has to be an explanation,” Chloe said. “Kenny, I need to hear it.”

“What can I say, Mom? It wasn’t me. You know we’ve never locked our doors around here. Anybody could have done it.”

Cameron was as conflicted as he’d been since the Glorious Appearing. How he wanted to believe Kenny! But the evidence against him just kept mounting.