The Angels of Destiny (17 page)

"What have we got, darling?"

"Too early to say, I need more data before I can answer that one," responded McPherson without looking up from the screen. "Even a bin ten doesn
’
t guarantee that we
’
ve made contact of course.
”

"But it would sure help," said Hunter, hoping he would have something positive to report to the President real soon.

McPherson spent the next few days working on the data, but to everyone
’
s disappointment, especially Hunters, the results were negative. It was now Thursday and back in San Francisco the funeral of Jack Freeman
’
s son had taken place. It had been an emotional affair with Jack Freeman and his wife clearly brokenhearted. Both, at times, needing assistance to walk to and from the church service.

All of the
‘
Disciples
’
had attended the funeral, including Adam Domaradzki, although he kept a low profile, and wore a hat, that covered his emotionless face. Domaradzki had passed around the word that a meeting would take place in ten days time to finalize the details of the attack on the Ellington Building.

Richard Stark broke down in tears when the whispered message reached him via Disciple Summa.

The morning after the funeral Richard and Susan were sitting quietly at the breakfast table. The children had left for school and the house was silent.

"I
’
ve never seen you cry before."

"It was an emotional affair, with the kid being so young."

"Yes, it was emotional and I
’
m glad you cried Richard. You need to show your emotions more. I want you to be happy again."

"I
’
m just tired, darling that
’
s all."

"I want to believe you: I really do."

“
What do you mean, you want to believe me?"

Susan paused. "Richard, I know you better than you know yourself. I
’
ve seen you tired to the point where you
’
d fall asleep if you sat down for more than two minutes, but you were happy; you were Richard. Things are different now, you
’
re not the same man. Something is occupying your mind. What is it Richard?"

For a brief moment he wanted to tell her everything. Share the pain with her he was feeling inside, but no, he couldn
’
t do that. Susan wouldn
’
t understand that it was the will of God that all evil sinners on Earth be destroyed.

"I
’
ll be okay," he said, trying to sound upbeat.

"I think you need a break, just to get away for a while. Why don
’
t you ask Summa to go fishing with you again, like you used to do down in Monterey?"

"Yeah, maybe I will." Richard looked at his watch. "Must go, look at the time." Standing up he moved over to Susan and kissed her forehead. "See you tonight," he said, as he made for the door.

“
Richard!
”

“
What?"

"I love you.
”

"I love you too."

Richard Stark had moored his boat for the night in its usual place at Pier 39 after another day of trips to Alcatraz and was driving the short distance toward Fisherman
’
s Wharf for the meeting that had been on his mind ever since the funeral of Jack Freeman
’
s son. The evening sun was shining in his eyes and the sea front was bustling with people enjoying the warm sea air. The sound of gulls, the occasional
‘
honk
’
of a seal and the smell of boiling crabs reminded you that this was the Embarcadero, San Francisco, a place with an atmosphere all of its own. The sea was a calm blue and Alcatraz appeared closer to the shoreline than normal.

Minutes later Richard had arrived at the old brick building, still deep in thought.

"Okay let
’
s get started, Richard
’
s here now," said Adam Domaradzki, as Richard walked into the building.

"Everyone sit down please. We have no time to waste this evening."

Looking around the table Richard noticed that Jack Freeman wasn
’
t at the meeting.

Standing with his hands in a praying position Domaradzki waited until there was complete silence from his disciples. "Lord God hear our prayers and guide us, your devoted followers, through the coming weeks. Give us the strength to carry out your commands without question and bring peace to those who fear you. Amen.
”

“
Amen."

"Children of Jesus, the time is now close. Soon the Lord
’
s hand will wipe clean the evil doings in Houston and we will rejoice in his work." He paused, breathing in slowly.
“
It's with great sadness that I have to inform you that Jack Freeman has been taken into hospital for observation today, I know you will all join me in wishing him a speedy recovery."

"That
’
s thanks to the maniac that murdered his boy," retorted Summa angrily. Domaradzki took a deep breath and tried to remain calm.

"This means of course that we need another Disciple to join Summa in Houston. Do we have a volunteer amongst us?" There was silence in the room. "Then may I suggest we ask you Richard, to offer your services to God. Your mechanical skills would be a great help." Silence prevailed for a few embarrassing seconds. "Richard, did you hear me?"

"Is it the will of God?" asked Stark, in a low monotone voice.

"Yes, it is the will of God."

"Then I must obey."

"You will be rewarded in Heaven. Believe in the word of the Lord. I need you and Summa to stay behind tonight to sort out the details of your mission," said Domaradzki in an upbeat manner.

Richard Stark fought to control his emotions. Thoughts were spinning wildly in his head and his body was tense and trembling. His complexion was sallow and he looked ill. Quickly, he poured a glass of cold water from the jug in the centre of the table and drank. The coldness in his throat comforted him briefly, and he wiped his sweating palms on his denims.

“
Is that you, Richard?"

“
Yeah, it
’
s me, sorry I
’
m late. I went for a drink with Summa after the meeting."

"Keep your voice down you
’
ll wake the kids."

"Sorry, I
’
ll be up in a minute."

After visiting the bathroom, Richard poured a glass of cold spring water from the refrigerator into his favourite glass and walked slowly upstairs to the bedroom.

“
Hi, babe."

“
Hi. How
’
s Summa?"

"He
’
s Okay
…
I
’
ve decided to take your advice, so I asked him if he
’
d like a fishing trip to Monterey again."

"And?"

“
Yes, he
’
s all for it."

"I
’
m glad. You need the break. When do you plan to go?
”

“
Oh
—
in a couple of weeks. Gives me a chance to get a skipper sorted out for the boat. I
’
ll have to pay him of course, but it
’
s better than no money at all whilst I
’
m away."

"Good idea.
”

"Kiss me," said Susan, from the bed. "I
’
m nearly asleep." Richard kissed her before undressing. As he got into bed Susan was already sleeping. That night he didn
’
t sleep at all He lay on the bed and the idea of suicide seemed the answer to his nightmare.

It was now December and the time had come for Richard Stark and Summa to go to Houston. The plan was to return immediately after the attack and drive to Monterey, staying there another three days to fish and take photographs of their visit. Susan would never suspect anything and Summa had no family to worry about him anyway.

There was a sound of a pickup truck pulling up on Richard Stark's drive.

"Richard, Summa's here." Susan shouted up the stairs.

"Coming now. Where the hell is my fishing rod?"

"Look in your offspring
’
s room."

"Thanks."

Susan opened the front door and gestured to Summa who responded with a smile and a wave as he turned the pickup around in the driveway.

Richard
’
s luggage, in two leather backpacks, was piled on the porch steps, his ticket to Houston safe in the inside pocket of his jacket. Within minutes the luggage was loaded, Richard had kissed Susan, reassured her about Pops and they were ready to go.

"Take care of yourself and take it easy," Susan said, fondly.

“
Thanks, darling."

"I love you, you know that don't you? Have you got everything now?"

"If we haven
’
t it's no big deal," said Summa, in an upbeat manner.

"Take care, both, and enjoy the fishing."

Susan leaned into the truck and kissed Richard again before it sped off up the hill. Richard
’
s arm was visible, waving goodbye until the truck was out of view. Closing the front door Susan took a deep breath. It was time to visit the hospital to see Pops.

"God, I
’
m so pumped up, how about you, Rich?"

"I can
’
t say I
’
m feeling good about this." Richard
’
s face was stern and pained.

"We have been chosen to do this, Richard. It
’
s our duty to God."

"That doesn
’
t mean to say we have to enjoy it, Summa."

Summa was excited and Richard
’
s mood was not going to change things. He was relishing the thought of firing thermal rockets into the one-hundred and twenty story Ellington Building. Summa was an old man, quite bald apart from the dyed black hair around the sides and back of his head. He wore sunglasses and in his mouth was a large unlit cigar. He was quite insane.

"The plan is quite simple, Rich, I do the firing, you drive
—
Simple. When we get there I suggest we relax for a day and survey the target."

Richard was listening intently to Summa
’
s words.

"We need to get the launcher from the lockup and make sure it
’
s in good working order. I don
’
t intend to waste a rocket by firing it at some wasteland trash target."

Richard looked serious. "But, that has always been the Elder
’
s plan."

"No need, Rich, our targets big enough. The more rockets that hit the building the better."

Richard shivered. He tried to imagine the damage that would accost them as they drove out of the underground parking lot. All around them would be panic and mayhem, even if just one of the rockets was on target, and he shivered again.

"We
’
ll practice the drill I did with Jack Freeman, so that we
’
ll know exactly what
’
s required of each other. It has to be done with military precision Rich."

"Yea, of course," Stark said, with distance in his voice, as the comment broke his thoughts. He knew Summa was the only disciple that could recognize Vicki, from the photos taken at Black
’
s funeral, although he
’
d not met her and the framed photo of her at home was taken some time ago. He would have said something by now, deliberated Stark. Would he do this if it was his sister involved? Should he be doing it? He asked himself again.

Throughout his life, Richard had questioned very little. He was happy being led. At home, Susan did most of the thinking. On the boat he often switched off and thought about nothing. The Elder Father made decisions for him in the Church and that he was happy with. He knew it was the will of God to eliminate scum like the animal that cut up Jack
’
s son. Having to kill his pregnant sister though plagued him. She wasn
’
t scum, she was misguided perhaps, a non-believer yeah, but was she really evil? Domaradzki told him God wanted the evil ones stopped and God can
’
t be wrong. His thoughts were again broken when Summa spoke, enthusiastically.

"On Monday morning, Rich, you check out those entering the underground parking lot and when we have a full house come back to the hotel. I
’
m no fucking good at that sort of thing, man. You just tell me they
’
re all in; and leave the rest to me."

Summa tugged the steering wheel, and the truck lunged down the exit road off the 101 in the direction of the airport. They would leave the Ford in the long stay parking until their return in three days time. Then they would drive down to Monterey along the coast road to finish off the holiday with some sea fishing.

"I
’
ve booked the same room on the twenty-fifth floor, so I know the elevations and distances are the same and we
’
re well within the range of the launcher." Summa said, confidently, "I don
’
t expect to miss." His face glowed with enthusiasm. "You should see the baby, Rich, it
’
s an eighty-four mm Carl Gustav, M3 lightweight, and it
’
s got four high explosive rockets. Shit, they
’
ll destroy the place," he said, excitedly.

He was a young boy when he fought in Vietnam, for the 9th Infantry Division. His target then was much harder to hit, invisible most of the time and always on the move. Badly injured in
‘
Operation Enterprise,
’
fighting to clear Long An Province, he was flown home. For him, it was the most exciting time of his life and he missed the rush that pure fear gave him, he missed the camaraderie, the killing. Now though, he was going back and he couldn
’
t wait.

Twenty minutes later and they had arrived at the Houston airport domestic departures. The young girl at the United Airlines desk informed them that there was no delay, gave them their boarding cards, and directed them to gate number 12.

"The flight is departing at ten minutes past eleven, you have twenty-five minutes, plenty of time."

As they walked to the gate, Summa turned to Richard.

"There
’
s no turning back now, my friend."

“
No, I know," responded Richard, looking straight ahead.