The Tears of Nero (The Halo Group Book 1) (23 page)

Chapter 36

Edward expected to see armored cars, a phalanx of special agents, helicopters, and a flurry of flashing lights waiting on them back on the mainland.  But the harbor was quiet save for the occasional blare of an air horn and the hungry growl of combustion engines drinking fuel with a thirst that could never be slaked. 

“Where are your people?” he asked, suddenly suspicious again.

Nick seemed equally confused.  “I don’t know.  I radioed the mainline a few times before we left the island.”

“Did you give them the coordinates?”

Nick looked at him with irritation.  “Of course I did.  I told them exactly where we would be.”

“Could anybody else have sent them a message in the meantime?” Edward asked.

Nick thought about this and nodded.  “I think that person is swimming with the sharks even as we speak.”

“Marshall.”

“We need to get to a phone.  Now!” Nick said.

“Well, you’re the one who knows how to park a boat,” Edward said.  “Why don’t I go and call the police while you get this thing anchored.”

“Fine,” Nick said.  “But hurry.  We don’t know how much time we have left.”

Edward nodded and jumped onto the dock.  There was a bait shop at the end of the pier, and he ran toward it as fast as he could.  He barely got through the door and up to the counter when he noticed the television set mounted on the wall behind the clerk.  Nick’s picture filled the screen. 

“We interrupt this broadcast to bring you an urgent news message,” a pretty blonde reporter said.  “Police are on the lookout for this man:  Nicholas Gentry.  Gentry is wanted in connection with a series of occult murders that took place in the sleepy backwoods town of Fairview.  Anyone with information leading to the whereabouts of Gentry is urged to contact the authorities immediately.  This man may be armed and dangerous.”

Edward was about to leave when the news reporter said something else. 

“Police are also interested in this man, Mr. Edward Mills.”

The scene quickly shifted to show a picture of Edward.  Edward felt like someone had punched him in the gut.

“Although police aren’t directly linking him to the murders at this point, they haven’t ruled him out and would like to bring him in for questioning.  Assume both are dangerous.  An anonymous tip places both men in the South Florida area.”

Edward looked at the image bearing his likeness on television and wondered how he had gotten into such a mess.  He thought of how this had started all those months ago when Marshall deliberately killed his family to test his reactions.  He hoped that the sharks were eating Marshall slowly, one bite at a time.  It still wouldn’t be punishment enough. 

He must have had a strange expression on his face because the clerk was staring at him.  Thankfully, she wasn’t watching TV.  The girl looked like she had just stepped out of a Hot Topic fashion show.  Smacking gum and twirling a lock of dyed black hair, she eyed Edward curiously.  “Help you with something?” she asked.

“Um, no,” Edward said, turning around.  “I’m sorry.  I’m in the wrong place.”

“You look sick, man,” she said.  “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Edward said.  “Just feel a little nauseous.  Must be the heat.  I‘ve gotta go.”

“Stay cool,” the girl said as Edward threw the door open and ran back down the dock toward Nick. 

In the distance he heard the warble of sirens.  The police were already on their way.

Nick smiled at the sound.  “My people will be here in a minute,” he said.  “Guess they’re just running a little late.”

“We’ve gotta go now,” Edward said.  “Those aren’t your people.  They’re after both of us.”

“What do you mean?” Nick asked, frowning. 

Edward quickly recounted the news broadcast, and it was clear that Nick hadn’t considered this.  “Lindell did this,” Nick said.  “He turned us in.  Framed us for all the nasty things he did.  He knew he would need to buy himself some time.”

“Can’t you call your guys and explain to them what’s going on?  You’ve been undercover.  Surely, they will be able to see what he’s up to.”

“I could call them,” Nick said.  “But they won’t be much help against the locals.  The police aren’t going to know anything about The Halo Group.  We officially don’t exist.  All the cops are going to care about is hauling our carcasses to jail.  Besides, I’m not sure that my people will expose themselves to bail us out.  There’s a bigger picture to consider, and that may not include us.  We may be on our own.  Let’s not forget, the news media loves a story like this.  Now that they‘ve gotten their teeth into it, they‘re not going to let go until we‘re both caught.  They‘ll be running our pictures every fifteen minutes for the next twenty-four hours.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Edward said.  “This place is going to be crawling with cops soon.”

“Agreed,” Nick said.  “We can’t save the world if both of us are in jail.”

“Where do we go?”

“The church, of course,” Nick said.  “We’ve still got a lot of people to help.”

“We can’t walk there,” Edward said.  “We’d never make it in time.”

“Thankfully, I know how to hot-wire a car.”

“That’s a crime.”

Nick smiled sheepishly.  “You know what they say?  Gotta break a few eggs to make an omelet.”

Nick chose an older model Buick that looked like it might have been owned by a blue-haired grandmother.  It was inconspicuous, easy to start, and thankfully, had a full tank of gas.  They were up and running within five minutes, and no one seemed to notice. 

Nick piloted the Buick through the cluttered city streets like the ferryman navigating the River Styx.  If Lindell had his way, the streets might resemble the mythic river of Hades before long, filled with the bodies of the dead.  Edward shuddered at the thought.

He turned on the radio, hoping to hear more about the manhunt that was currently being put together on their behalf.  Instead, he was greeted with a familiar voice that instantly made him paranoid.

“Why do bad things happen to good people?” Lindell said, his voice oozing false sincerity and warmth.

“What the devil?” Nick asked, skittish until he realized that this was a broadcast and not a specific message to them. 

“I’ve often wondered why God allows these things to happen,” Lindell continued.  “But I’m not qualified to say.  As believers we must trust in The Master and know that He makes no mistakes.  My mother knew that as well as anyone.  Even right up until the end, as the cancer ravaged her body, she knew that God’s plan for her was perfect and absolute.  My dear, dear mother passed away, but I’m not sad.  She’s sitting at the Lord’s table as we speak, and her cancer is gone.  Praise God!  In her honor, I’ve decided to open up the visitation to my church family, and I extend this invitation to you now.  I know this may seem a little unorthodox, but I’d like to celebrate my sweet mother’s life, and saints, I’d like you to share it with me.  The church doors are open.  Come and pay your respects.  Come and pray with me.  Mourn with me.  Come and praise the Lord for His goodness.  It's important to me that as many people are exposed to the word of God as possible to honor my mother’s last wishes, and to that end, I'm willing to give $500 to each person that attends the memorial today.  Think of it as a gift from me to you as a way of honoring the memory of my dear mother.  No strings attached.  No catches.  Just come and share this moment with me.  Come, saints!”

“Sounds like things are well under way,” Nick said.  “There’s no telling how many will hear that and jump in their car, eager for a chance to meet Lindell and get $500.”

“It’s scary how much influence this guy has.  Do we have a plan at this point?”

“Of course,” Nick said.  “You ever wanted to be in a cult?”

Chapter 37

The Garden was the name of Lindell’s church.  A reference to the original Garden of Eden, the church was landscaped accordingly to resemble a horticultural paradise.  Flowering fruit trees surrounded the building in outward moving concentric circles of pinks, yellows, and reds.  Terraced gardens atop the building spilled forth colored fountains of bougainvillea, blossoming ivy, redolent jasmine, trumpet vines, wave petunias, and dozens of other varieties of flora.  Splashes of color were everywhere you looked, and the skies were filled with the audible buzzing of wings.  The Slaves of Solomon might have attributed this to the unseen flapping of angel wings.  The more rational members of Lindell’s flock would have said the bees were responsible.

To judge by the traffic leading up to the enormous coliseum where Lindell delivered his sermons, lots of people had heard the broadcast and were responding to the call.  The cars were bumper to bumper, gridlocked to the point that even the most devout and patient of Lindell’s brood were starting to get irritable and grumble under their breath.  Nick and Edward were reassured by the uniformed police officers on the scene who were busy directing traffic and helping with crowd control until they noticed how many of them sported the familiar sigil tattoo. 

“We’re screwed,” Nick said, realizing that a huge chunk of law enforcement was on Lindell’s payroll.  “There literally is no one we can call for help at this point.  This mission is entirely up to us.”

“I think I know how the rebels felt when trying to infiltrate the Death Star,” Edward said with a forced laugh. 

“Let’s hope The Force is with us,” Nick replied. 

The Halo agent didn’t bother trying to worm his way into the flow of traffic or even get in line to park.  Instead, he found a spot for the Buick about a mile away and suggested they run the rest of the way.

The Slaves of Solomon were visible and en force.  Unlike their low-ranking brethren in police attire, some of the more gutsy members of the group had chosen to make their stand in official uniform.  The robed members stood guard at every entrance, never moving, staring straight ahead like good stoics.  If there was any emotion going on behind the masks it was difficult to tell.   

“You wouldn’t think they would be so obvious,” Edward said.  “I thought this was a clandestine group.  Nothing very secretive about standing out in the open.”

“Lindell knows this is his last stand,” Nick said.  “Like any good cult leader he’s prepared to go down with the ship.  One way or the other this is his Waterloo.  He has nothing to lose at this point by tipping his hand.  Besides, Lindell might not be the one behind this.  Nero might be, and that changes the dynamic somewhat.  We should hope the Lindell personality decides to pop in and make an appearance here.”

“That’s not reassuring,” Edward said.  “How do we get in?”

Nick looked at him squarely.  “I’ve got a plan that will build on Lindell’s phobias, his fears, and his past.  It’s one that is going to pull the lynchpin on the psychosis that’s been holding him together.  If it works, Lindell is going to have a meltdown that makes Chernobyl look like a night light.”

“So where do we start?” Edward asked.  “I’m sure they all know what we look like.”

“We have to make a detour first,” Nick said.  “Come on.  Follow me.”

They ran past the church toward a commercial shopping center.  The streets were mostly deserted at this time of day.  Most people were on their way to the memorial service for Lindell’s mother.  Shops up and down both sides of the street had temporarily closed as their owners went to offer their respects and get paid.   

Edward wasn’t sure where they were headed and was surprised when Nick stopped in front of a store named Masquerade. 

“A costume shop?” Edward said. 

“It will all make sense in a minute,” Nick said.  “Besides, Lindell’s people may know what we look like but so do the police.  We have to change the way we look.  That figures right into my plan.” 

“But the business is closed,” Edward noted.

Nick looked around to make sure no one was watching.  With a quick, fluid motion he wrapped his fist in the tail of his shirt and smashed the glass door.  He reached in, unfastened the lock and rushed Edward in before following closely behind. 

“I’ll give you a choice,” Nick said as he scanned the aisles for what they needed.  “You can either be the angel or the demon.”

“I’m not following you,” Edward said. 

Nick pulled a photograph out of his pocket.  It was a picture of Jackson and Cecelia Lindell.  Neither of them looked their best.  Jackson had the look of a man trying to shake off the teeth of addiction.  Cecelia looked like a woman trying to shake off the persistent abuse of a man she no longer loved. 

“In this business, it’s crucial to know how to change your appearance,” Nick said.  “There’s a dressing room in the back.  All we need is a little latex, makeup, and some different clothing and hair.  When I was a teenager, I wanted to be a special effects artist and work on horror films in Hollywood.  I got pretty good at making busts of zombies, vampires, werewolves, basically any kind of creature you could imagine.  I used to make a fortune at Halloween transforming all my friends at school into bloodthirsty monsters.  That skill has come in handy with The Halo Group, and I think it will come in handy now too.”

Edward thought about it for a moment.  “You’re saying you want to turn us into
them?
” 

“A show of force is out of the question for us.  They are heavily armed and have the police on their side.  Our approach is going to be a little more subtle.  Cecelia and Jackson Lindell are the lynchpins that hold this man together.  If we pull those lynchpins, he will fall apart in front of us.  Incapacitating him is the key to incapacitating this entire threat.”

Edward sighed.  “I don’t really have any better ideas so I guess let’s go for it.”

“Angel or demon?” Nick asked with a wry grin.

Edward thought about it for a moment.  “Make me look like his mother.  After all the pain he’s put me through, I can’t think of any better way to get back at him.  If you can turn me into a convincing version of her, then I will do the rest.”

“Great,” Nick said with a laugh.  “I was hoping I didn’t have to be the woman.  Now, let’s go.  We don’t have much time.”

“Can I ask you something first?” Edward said.

“Sure, but make it quick,” Nick said. 

“You're part of a government group that investigates religious groups.  Are you a man of faith?”

“I've seen and experienced too much not to be a believer,” Nick explained.  “Much to Nero's chagrin, I would consider myself a Christian.  I believe that Jesus died on a cross and rose again on the third day for the sins of mankind.  There is a God, and He has saved me on more occasions than I can count.  I firmly believe that his angels have surrounded me and lifted me up in numerous situations.  Were it not for God, I wouldn't be here today.”

“That's a comfort,” Edward said.  “You've been infiltrating Nero's group for a while.  Do you ever wonder if he's got a point about any of this?  Why do bad things happen to good people?”

“All the time,” Nick said.  “I've seen the worst of human atrocity.  I've seen men turn into monsters and cast aside all of their morals for money, power, influence.  I've seen bloodshed and human sacrifice.  I've seen greed and corruption.  I've seen people do things in the name of God that have nothing to do with the Creator.  You can't be in my business without wondering that from time to time.  Why does He allow all of these things to happen?  All you and I and others like us can do is keep the faith, persevere, and trust that God is in control.  If it's God's will that we stop this madness today, we will.  If not, it's part of His plan.”

“Then maybe you and I should turn this over to Him before going out there to fight.”

Nick chewed on that for a moment.  “You've got a point.  We're racing to do all of this ourselves.  We need to lay this problem at the throne of God.”

Nick started to kneel in front of the counter then remembered his gun.  He pulled it from the waistband of his pants and sat it on the counter.  With no weapon now other than his faith in God, Nick fell to his knees and was quickly joined by Edward.  In quiet whispers, they asked for God's protection, His mercy, and His guidance.  They asked for strength, courage, and the ability to put an end to Nero's reign of terror.  They asked for God to rally his angels around them, and they asked Him to forgive them for all the times they had fallen short.

Then, uplifted by the grace of God, they prepared to march into the lion's den.  Because it was a costume shop, Nick had little trouble finding all of the supplies they needed.  With a little latex and the Lord’s blessings, he transformed both of them into different people in under an hour. 

“What do you think?” he asked Edward, holding up a mirror and the photograph of Cecelia and Jackson Lindell. 

“I think you may have missed your calling,” Edward said.  “This is exceptional.” 

“We’ll find out soon enough,” Nick said.  “Now, let’s get moving.  We’ve got a funeral to crash.”