The Tears of Nero (The Halo Group Book 1) (19 page)

Chapter 29

They followed Nick Gentry into the jungle.  Without the mask, his features were kind and sensitive.  The mask had given him a cold-blooded menace, but seeing his real face was enough to make them trust him a little more. 

“We’re going to head back to the beach,” Nick said.  “And we’ll go to the temple from there.  Nero will have a much harder time watching us that way.  There are no cameras or microphones on the beach.  Plus, if he comes after us, we’ll have an escape.”

“We will?” Sadie asked.  “Do tell.”

“The ocean,” Nick said as if it were the most sensible idea in the world.  “We’ll swim away.”

“Of course,” Edward said, not bothering to hide his skepticism.  “Why haven’t we dog-paddled back to civilization?  That would be so much easier than traipsing around the jungle with the poisonous snakes and man-eating tigers.”

“Let‘s do more walking and less talking,” Sadie said.  “I’m ready to get off this rock.”

“We have to go to the temple first and stop what Nero has planned,” Nick said.

Edward and Sadie both stopped.  “You can't be serious,” Edward said.  “This man is dangerous.  We aren't soldiers or police.”

“We have to stop all of this or millions of people will die.  Please.”  There was a note of pleading in Nick's voice that hadn't been there before.  “Besides, you don't know how to get off of this island without me.  You're at my mercy.”

“Well played,” Sadie said.  “I guess you're right.  We have no choice.”

“I don't want to use my leverage to get your cooperation.  You just don't understand how crucial it is that we stop Nero before he carries out his plans.”

“Let's go,” Edward said.  “The sooner we finish this the sooner we can go home.”

“Thank you,” Nick said.  “Follow me.” 

It only took a few minutes to reach the beach, and no one really said much during that time because they were all too busy traversing the underbrush and swatting at mosquitoes. 

“We need some answers,” Edward said once they reached damp sand.  “You seem to have them.  If we're going to help you, at least clue us in.”

“I’ll tell you what I know,” Nick said.  

“How long have you been infiltrating The Slaves of Solomon?” Sadie asked, taking her shoes off and walking barefoot across the sand.

“Over a year now.  I met Lindell at a black-tie fundraising event that his organization was holding.  I chatted him up, made a generous donation secretly funded by the U.S. Government, and before the night was over I had a private meeting with the man himself.  He offered me an invitation into the group based on my donation.”

“That sounds really cavalier for a group of criminals,” Edward said.  “I can’t believe he would offer you a membership into the group without checking you out first.”

“The attendees of the fundraiser had been screened and vetted in advance.  Everyone there was a potential candidate for membership.  You didn’t get a ticket unless there was some interest in you.”

“So what was your cover?” Edward asked. 

“As far as Lindell knew, I was a contractor doing work for the Department of Defense in Iraq and Afghanistan.  Just important enough to land a spot in the cult, but not so powerful that I would pose a threat to anybody else.”

“Did belief play a part in your membership?  Or was it strictly about money and connections?”

“The money and connections are what got me in.  Everything else was just window dressing as far as these guys were concerned.”

“So what are you investigating?”

Nick paused, unsure of how much information to release.  “As we all know, Lindell or Nero as he‘s calling himself now, has an acute fascination with the end of the world.  Based on my interaction with Lindell, I think that fascination stems from a need to make his own personal pain go away and to punish all those who believe in God.  He’s been delving into biological warfare.  Super viruses, deadly bacteria, nasty, nasty stuff.”

“Morningstar,” Edward said. 

“Exactly.  Think Jim Jones and his little Kool-Aid party.  Only on a much bigger scale.  Remember the angel statue and what the black goo did to that monkey?  Think about what that germ could do if released in a big city.  Alastor, the angel, is the provider of the virus and the puppeteer behind the whole show.  He’s using Nero to do his dirty work, pulling his strings.”

“Playing him like a fiddle,” Sadie said, prompting a look of consternation from Nick. 

“Sorry,” she said.  “I couldn’t resist.”

“I thought we were supposed to be freeing the angel,” Edward said.  “It doesn’t sound like he needs freeing.  I saw him in that Quonset hut.  Didn’t exactly seem trapped to me.”

“That’s because he isn’t.  He's just biding his time.  The angel we're going to see at the temple isn't what you think.” 

Edward stopped walking and grabbed Nick’s arm.  “He keeps talking about the apocalypse and freeing the horses of Armageddon.  Somehow, some way, one of us is going to be the trigger that unleashes Morningstar into the world.  Doesn’t your Halo Group organization have contingency plans for situations like this?”

Nick sighed.  “I’ve managed to sneak a sample of the Morningstar virus into the hands of one of our operatives.  They have been analyzing it for a while and attempting to synthesize an antidote.  But let’s be clear.  Nero has siphoned a lot of money into scientific research.  It’s an option that’s always on the table as far as he’s concerned.  The Morningstar virus is why he came to this island in the first place.  Alastor appeared to him in Rome and told him to come here.  He‘s following the angel‘s orders.”

“So what do you know about this angel?” Edward asked.

“There are stories about Alastor wreaking havoc on a small town called Crowley’s Point not too long ago.  Apparently, he plagued that particular little corner of the world with the curse of Lot’s wife.  The military spent nearly six months there trying to figure out what really happened.”

“Curse?” Sadie said.

“People turned into nice tidy little hillocks of salt the moment they set foot outside.  Plenty of people lost their lives in that town.”

“So no halo for this angel,” Edward said.

“Not at all.  Besides that incident and what we’ve learned on this island, that’s about all I can tell you about him.”

“None of this makes any sense.  If Nero is planning to unleash widespread destruction on the earth, why go to all the trouble of bringing all of us here?  Couldn't he just do all the dirty work himself?”

“Think about it,” Sadie said.  “Lindell brought some of us here to exact revenge.  That’s why Kelly and Henry were included.  Franklin weaseled his way into the group as a power grab.  I’m probably on the revenge list too.”

“But what about me?” Edward asked.

“I suspect you’ll find out soon enough,” Nick said.  “I don't have the answer to that particular question.  But I’d venture to guess that you more than the others tie into Nero’s plans to bring about his version of the end of the world.”  

They trudged across sand for a mile before threading their way back into the jungle.  Nick seemed to have an eye for the terrain and chose the path of least resistance, guiding them through natural trails worn down by the persistent passage of wild animals.  His presence made Edward and Sadie feel better.  They had a slight sense of hope now that hadn’t been there a few hours before.

The jungle grew more and more dense the further inland they went.  Brush turned into impenetrable walls of shrubbery.  Single shoots of bamboo gave way to solid walls of the plant, growing so close together that passage was impossible.  Trees were larger and thicker and spaced in such a way that their branches intertwined.  Monkeys frolicked, leaping from tree to tree, chattering to themselves, most likely gossiping about all the humans.   

They hadn’t heard any violin music in quite some time, nor had they run into any more of Nero’s traps.  There was no sign of the madman or any other members of the group.  Edward considered this as they were walking and remembered that Nick Gentry had been the one assisting Nero at the house on Archibald Street.  The good feeling he’d had only moments before turned sour, coiling up in the pit of his stomach like a serpent waiting to strike.

Nero couldn’t have done everything without help. 

“How did you arrive here?” Edward asked, giving voice to his suspicion.  “You still haven’t told us that.  You said that Nero has a boat, but the fact that Nero doesn‘t know you‘re here would lead me to believe that you didn‘t come aboard that boat.”

“Very good,” Nick said, smiling.  “You’ve been thinking things through.  I would expect no less, and I encourage your suspicion.  I didn’t come on Nero’s boat as you’ve pointed out.  I came on an inflatable raft launched off the deck of a Navy ship about ten miles out.”

“Navy?” Sadie asked.  “You’re military?”

“Not strictly,” Nick said.  “The Halo Group pulls from a variety of influences.  The United States Military cooperates when it wants to, which isn’t all the time.  It all depends on which power struggle is taking place at the moment of need or who in the organization is willing and able to call in a favor.”

“OK,” Edward said.  “I can go along with that.  But there’s something that doesn’t make sense.  I can see the need for anonymity and solitude while infiltrating the group, but the group doesn’t even know you’re here.  Why come alone?”

Nick smiled again.  “Who said I was alone?  I have plenty of friends on this island right now.  Their job is to find all biological threats and render them useless.  My job is to contain Lindell‘s mania to this island and find out about all the other dirty secrets he may be hiding here.”

“Like the angel,” Sadie said.

“Like the angel,” Nick agreed, wiping the sweat off of his brow.  “And speaking of angels, we’re here.  Let's move in quietly and see what we can see.  I don't know what we're up against.”

As they emerged from the thicket, Edward and Sadie gasped at the sight of an ivy-covered temple that looked as if it had been there for thousands of years.  From their vantage point, the temple looked deserted.  No cultists armed with semi-automatic rifles.  No angels materializing out of shadow.  Nothing other than a centuries-old building made of stone that the jungle was busy reclaiming for the island. 

Nick rushed forward in a crouched run, darting from tree to tree, searching for something that only he could see.  He motioned for Edward and Sadie to stay put while he checked everything out.  He had just turned to motion to them when he clutched his neck in a frenzied panic.  Eyes wild, he spun toward Edward and Sadie, begging them for help as he fell at their feet.  

Confused and frightened, Edward and Sadie rushed over to him.  Edward was the one to notice the tiny dart sticking out of Nick’s throat.

“Blowgun,” Edward said.  He touched Nick’s neck and felt a steady pulse. 

“I didn’t kill him,” Nero said, speaking through a bullhorn from the steps of the temple.  “I just feel like this is something we should do alone.  After all, we’ve been through so much together.  He’s not part of my plan.”

“Wake up,” Sadie said, shaking Nick by the shoulders.  “Wake up.”

“He won’t die,” Nero explained.  “But he’ll be out for a little while.  Don’t waste the effort on him.  Instead, why not come and view the angel that will bring about the end of the world?  And while you‘re at it, maybe you could meet Alastor as well.”

Edward looked at Sadie, hoping she had a solution.  She winked and pulled Nick’s robe back to reveal the Glock .9mm.  Edward smiled and surreptitiously grabbed the gun, tucking it tightly away into the waistband of his slacks. 

“Let’s go see this angel,” he said. 

Chapter 30

When they entered the courtyard they knew they were in trouble.  Nero stood at the foot of the steps with his arms open as if to welcome them home.  But he wasn’t alone.  Members of The Slaves of Solomon stood on both sides of the path leading to the temple steps.  All of them were dressed in robes of vermilion and masks with painted expressions.  Some of the masks were sad.  Others were melancholy.  A few were drawn with looks of confusion or anger.  None were happy.

Yet only Nero’s mask had tears.  If hierarchy could be measured in terms of emotion, his was drawn to be the saddest of them all.  

The Slaves all carried guns that were aimed at Edward and Sadie.  “You ever do anything like this while you were in the group?” Edward murmured as they walked slowly toward the impressive architecture.

“You mean hold somebody at gunpoint?  Nope.  I was working my way up to it.  I just got fitted for my mask and robe a couple of weeks ago.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Edward asked. 

Sadie nodded.  “Trying to lighten things up.  If we‘re going to die, might as well joke about it.”

The steps leading up to the temple door were carpeted in vines, ivy, and creepers.  Some of the vegetation had grown up through the stone, cracking the rock in places and bleaching it in others.  Strange angelic symbols had been chiseled into the steps.  The temple had been built to resemble a pyramid, but it wasn’t strictly Egyptian nor did it resemble the terraced Aztec temples that normally sprang to mind.   

A stone antechamber sat atop the temple.  Inside, a set of stairs descended into the bowels of the structure.  Nero had gone on before them, and waited for Edward and Sadie at the top.  Despite the tears that were painted on and the perpetual frown that cut across the bottom half of the façade like a knife wound, Nero smiled at them from behind his mask.  Meanwhile, he cursed them with his eyes, glaring at them through the harlequin‘s face.  It was as if the man’s features were simultaneously displaying characteristics of both Lindell and Nero. 

Edward and Sadie trudged upward, stopping periodically to catch their breath.  Sweat poured down their necks, drenching their salt-stained clothing and acting as a glue that adhered polyester and cotton to sunburned flesh.  Carrying themselves up the steps was bad enough, yet doing so with a dozen guns pointed at their heads was worse still. 

“This is the test to end all tests,” Nero said, pointing a gun of his own at them.  Edward felt the reassuring jut of steel pressing into his back from the sidearm he had taken from Nick.  He resisted the urge to pull out the gun and open fire because he knew he wouldn’t last five seconds.  He wasn’t sure he could outdraw Nero, but even if he did, the other members of the group would cut them down where they stood.  He had to choose his moment carefully. 

He needed to see what Nero wanted him to see, if there was truly an angel buried somewhere in the temple depths.  Edward believed in angels, and although he believed Lindell was crazy, he needed to understand the kind of theology that would transform someone from a hellfire and brimstone preacher to a raving homicidal sociopath.  He wanted to understand why bad things happened to good people, why Jenny and Connor had been taken from him when he needed them the most.  He wasn’t sure the answers to any of those philosophical questions could be answered here, but he trudged onward anyway in search of clarity.  He had been brought to this island for a reason, and he needed to know some of the circumstances regarding his kidnapping.

Nero waited for them patiently, studying them with all the moral superiority of a human surveying an ant.  Edward stopped when they were only a few feet away from him.

“If there’s an angel in there and you’ve found it, why do you need us?  I thought that was the whole reason we were brought here.  You‘ve got the bone of John the Revelator now.  You can use it to exert influence over Alastor and keep yourself safe.  What else do you want with us?”

“I need answers,” Nero said.  “I need to understand what it is that I’ve seen.”

“Why do you think we’re the ones to give you those answers?” Sadie asked.

“I don’t think you are,” Nero said.  “But I think he is.”

“Why me?” Edward said. 

“Have a look first.  Then I’ll explain.  No more questions now.”   

Inside the antechamber there was an otherworldly glow that had the warmth of a roaring fire but was far brighter.  Edward experienced a strange sense of comfort as he entered the small rock building and descended the stairs leading toward the angel’s resting place.

The interior of the temple had been wired with electricity.  Cables snaked along the walls, and bare bulbs glowed brilliantly in the darkness.  But it wasn’t the electricity that made the place seem so bright.  Maybe it was the hope that there might actually be something supernatural waiting for them at the bottom.  A real angel would have been comforting at this point.  It could have helped them escape.

Unless it was Alastor. 

Sadie kept close to Edward and did her best to position her body between Nero and the gun that was hidden underneath Edward’s sport coat.  She knew that was their only hope of getting out of this alive.  They couldn’t afford to tip their hand yet.  Not until they had Nero where they wanted him. 

The paintings inside the temple were different from any others they had seen.  Like the paintings they saw in the secret passage just off the Mother room, these featured the familiar faces of Lindell and his mother.  Lindell had commissioned the recreation of various scenes from his youth.  The two of them picking sunflowers in a golden field.  Mother and son riding in a sailboat.  A young Hal in his Boy Scout uniform with a very familiar den mother beside him, straightening his medals.  High school graduation.  His first sermon. 

“It’s like a photo album,” Sadie said. 

“These memories were ripped straight out of Lindell‘s life,” Edward said.  “I bet Nero hates them.” 

Nero stopped at the top of the stairs.  “I’ll let the two of you have some time alone at the bottom.  We can talk later.  Meanwhile, I think Mr. Gentry and some of my brothers have some things to discuss.”

The sound of that worried Edward but he knew they couldn’t do anything at this point to help their new friend.  So he did what he had to do and kept going down the steps.

Although the temple looked authentic, there was something about it that bothered Edward.  The steps were too well manufactured.  The angles a little too sharp.  He didn’t see any of the tell-tale signs of aging inside to indicate that the elements had been busy reclaiming this place for their own.  None of the stones were broken.  No rubble littered the ground beneath their feet.  Then there was the small matter of electricity. 

“I think Lindell had this place built,” Edward said.  “I don’t think it’s that old.”

“Why would he do that?” Sadie asked.

“I suspect we’ll find out at the bottom.”

About halfway down, they saw oil lanterns suspended from iron rings which had been bolted into the ceiling.  Beneath them, they saw Nero’s “angel” laid to rest on a stone pedestal.   

The old woman was dressed in white and encased in a clear vacuum sealed box.  She wore a peaceful look on her face and had both hands clasped across her bosom.  Wrinkles gathered at the corners of her mouth and eyes, but she didn’t wear the mask of someone who had died violently.  This woman looked at peace, like an angel was supposed to.

“This is the angel?” Sadie said.

“It makes sense,” Edward said.  “Lindell obviously cared for his mother very much.  In his mind, she was an angel.  He had a very tumultuous childhood.  His father was abusive.  I expect his mother was his refuge in that particular storm.  She was his protector.  When she passed away, it didn‘t seem fair to him.  It probably even frightened him.  Ever since, he’s been trying to understand why God would allow something like this to happen.  He’s questioning the very nature of God.  He has been from the start.”

“This woman is an angel,” a familiar voice said from behind them.

“I think he’s speaking as Lindell now,” Edward whispered.  “Nero wouldn’t be too keen on angels.”

“Oh quite the contrary,” their captor said, slipping easily back into Nero’s lunatic persona.  “I love angels.  They’re true, pure, holy.  It’s the flawed Christians that I hate.  This fine woman is an angel.” 

“No, she’s not,” Sadie said.  “This is your mother.  I’m sure she was a devout woman, but she’s no closer to God than the rest of us.”

Nero grunted and raised the gun with a shaky hand.  “Don’t you say that.  Don’t you dare say that.  This woman is sitting at the throne of God right now.”

“But she’s not an angel,” Sadie persisted.

“Sadie,” Edward cautioned.  “I think you should keep quiet.”

“Good advice,” Nero said.  “But Sadie seems to think she’s so much better than this dear creature.  Maybe she believes herself to be angelic.  Lindell certainly called her his angel from time to time.  Why don’t we test that theory and see if the good preacher was right?”

“I’m no angel,” Sadie said, realizing her error.  “I’m nothing compared to this woman.  I’m sorry.”

“Oh, don’t be modest now,” Nero said as a little of the old psychotic seeped back into his voice.  “You seem to be an authority on who is an angel and who isn’t.  Only angels would have that kind of knowledge.  So it stands to reason that you are one.  And if you are, I owe you my allegiance.  So let’s see a demonstration.”

“What do you mean?” Sadie asked, growing nervous. 

“Angels can fly,” Nero explained.  “So will you.”

The Slaves of Solomon began to file down the steps.  Their guns were holstered now, but that didn’t make them any less menacing.

“What are you going to do to me?” Sadie asked. 

“Worship you,” Nero explained.  “As we do all angels.”

“You said Sadie couldn’t give you the answers you were looking for but I can,” Edward offered.  “Let her go.  You don‘t need her.  I‘ll do whatever you want me to.”

“No, sorry, that’s not an option,” Nero said.  “She thinks she is so high and mighty.  I’d like to know why.  Maybe there’s more to her than meets the eye.  Maybe we should bow at her feet too.”

Two of the Slaves of Solomon carried a large framework contraption that looked like something ripped straight out of the Spanish Inquisition.  Sadie’s eyes went wide at the sight of it.  Another member of the group hoisted a large burlap sack over one shoulder.  A fourth wheeled in a rusted metal drum. 

“Angels are creatures of flight, yes?” Nero said, beginning his speech in much the same way Lindell had begun his sermons once upon a time.  “They need wings to fly.  The Bible tells us that they have wings.  Some have four pairs of wings.  Others two.  The point is that angels and wings go together like Lindell and his dear, sweet mother.  You can’t have one without the other.”

“He’s talking about himself in the third person,” Edward whispered to Sadie.  “That can’t be good.”

“Can you imagine what the war in Heaven must have been like?  All those seraphim soaring through the heavens, swords drawn, their feathers misted with the blood of fallen comrades and enemies.  I’d like to see you fly like they did, Sadie.  I’d like to see you take to the air from the steps of this temple and circle the skies like the creature of Heaven you are.”

“No, please,” Sadie said. 

“I’ve still got the gun,” Edward whispered.  “I won’t let them do this to you.”

The Slaves of Solomon came toward her.  One held her while the other strapped her into the mechanical wings.  The one with the bag came over next, followed by the one with the steel drum.  The black viscous substance in the drum was easy recognizable as tar, and there wasn’t much doubt that there were feathers in the bag.

Edward reacted and pulled the gun.  “Don’t even think about it,” he said, pointing the pistol at Nero.  Immediately twelve guns were drawn and trained on him.  “One shot is all it will take,” he said, trying to be brave even though his insides felt knotted and raw. 

“You’re right,” Nero said.  “One shot is all it will take, and my friends here will turn you into a piece of Swiss cheese.  You can take your shot, and maybe it will count.  But what if you miss?  Maybe you hit me in the shoulder, and I live to see another day.  You certainly won’t.  Of all the members of your group, you alone have a chance to survive.  Are you willing to risk it?”

Edward hadn’t considered this.  Everything happened so fast, and he had reacted.  Now, he wished he had waited.

“Put the gun down,” Nero said.  “I have an extra set of wings if you’d like to go flying with Ms. Gale.”

“We don’t deserve any of this,” Edward said.

“Good people never do,” Nero said.  “That’s the nature of the world though.  You and I think alike.  I knew I could count on you.”

“Put the gun down, Edward,” Sadie said.  “We don’t stand a chance here.”

“I promised you I wouldn’t let this happen.”

“You’re off the hook,” Sadie said.  “You tried.  You risked your life to help me.  I couldn’t ask for more.”

Edward turned to look Sadie in the eyes, and that was the only opportunity needed.  One of the Slaves fired.  The bullet hit Edward in the hand, and he dropped the gun, howling in pain.