Rise of the Beast (9 page)

“Mr. Pagoni’s people are almost finished with your new identities,” said Leland. “Both of you will have very authentic looking French passports tomorrow. Even if someone were to check the French government’s electronic records, they would only find a confirmation of the validity of your passports. I don’t even pretend to understand how that was accomplished, but the people doing this for us are good.”

“Excellent,” said Lusan, “I was a bit dubious about involving the Italian Mafia in this ministry, but I am pleasantly surprised so far. What of the bank accounts?”

“We will be able to establish those once your passports and other necessary French documents are ready,” said Leland. “I don’t want to jump the gun on that one. I want things to go right the first time. Give it another three or four days, a week at most.”

“Excellent,” repeated Lusan. “My faith in the two of you has not been misplaced. I can see that now. If you don’t mind, I think I will accompany you to Manhattan Gold tomorrow morning, put its proprietor more at ease.”

“Good idea,” replied Leland. “I think it would help.”

The following morning found Leland and Lusan in Dale Silversmith’s office at Manhattan Gold. Lusan had the five gold bars tucked away in his brief case. Though it weighed over 50 pounds, Lusan carried it as though it was filled with feathers.

“I understand that you are French,” noted Dale, extending his hand to Lusan.

“Heureux pour vous rencontrer, mon nom est Andre Lusan,”
said Lusan, introducing himself without hesitation.
“Je suis reconnaissant pour votre aide dans cette matière.”

“You’re very welcome,” assured Dale. “Pleased to be of service.”

Lusan removed the five gold ingots from the case and placed them on Dale’s desk, an act that brought a look of pure astonishment to his countenance.

“Remarkable,” said Dale. “I’ll see to it that these end up in the safe right away. You will have a signed receipt before you leave. I am grateful for your business.”

Lusan bowed slightly, but said nothing.

“The papers are all signed,” said Leland, handing them to Dale. “How long before we can expect payment?”

“Within the week,” assured Dale. “I will have the proceeds deposited directly into your account if you wish.”

“We will be placing the proceeds in Mr. Lusan’s account, which should be established by then,” replied Leland. “Dale, I suspect that we will be giving you a lot of business over the next year or so.”

Their meeting was amazingly short for a transaction so large. Fifteen minutes found Leland and Lusan back out on the city street. It was windy and
distinctly chilly. A cold front had ushered in the first cold weather of the season. It was clear that the Indian summer of the past two weeks was over.

“I’d like to show you the office space Mr. Pagoni has provided for you,” said Leland, turning to Lusan. “It is in the new Davidson high-rise downtown. You will have two complete floors, the 31st and 32nd floor. Those are the two top floors. It’s a bit pricy, but it offers plenty of room for expansion. Mr. Pagoni will pick up the first month of rent until we establish our own bank account. It will also offer you and Duras living quarters that meet the special requirements you described to me. You will have total privacy and total security, the entire 32nd floor. The elevators will not even go to that floor without a special electronic key that only you will have. It has a tremendous view of the city. As I recall, you like that. It won’t take long to get a business license for your organization. Mr. Pagoni has seen to that. But to establish it as a 501 (c)3 charity that will be tax exempt may take six months or more. We should be ready to sign the lease within two weeks once you have an established bank account. Still, you might want to hold off getting the entire two floors of office space until all of the nonprofit paperwork is complete.”

Lusan shook his head. “The salvation of the world can’t wait, my friend. We must get started now. If this office is acceptable to me, and I suspect that it will be, we must proceed with all due haste.”

Leland nodded. Lusan had been running his legs off this past week. Still, he could see the need for swift action. The world was in a mess. Leland saw that more clearly than ever. Right now, what the people needed was what Lusan had to offer.

It had been fully three weeks since Julio’s experience in the park. The demon’s control over the youth’s body was now absolute. The old Julio was locked away securely, able to do little more than watch and feel what the demon felt. Still, to the outside world, this was an improvement. The new Julio was the perfect student in his GED class, very different from the old Julio. He had also become the perfect son for Consuela, and she couldn’t be happier. Still, there were some loose ends to tie up. His old brothers from the Latin Kings were bothering him, urging him back into the fold. It was on a Friday night that he stepped into their basement meeting place and announced his intention to quit the Kings.

“I’m not mad at any of you,” he said, standing before the group. “It is just that I need to live my own life. The deaths of Miguel, Juan, and David made me realize that life is just too short, especially if I continue on here.”

“You don’t walk out on the Kings,” said Angel, a six-foot-two, 240-pound original gangsta.

“Unless we beat you out,” said Carlos, their leader and most senior member. “Look, Julio, you’re a smart guy. I like you, always have. I know how bad you feel about Miguel and the others. He was my youngest nephew; how do you think I feel? But being beat out of the gang; well, that might make your life even shorter,
comprendo?”

“I’m willing to take that risk,” replied Julio, “are you?”

That comment elicited both laughter and shock from the members present. This kid couldn’t be serious.

“You sure this is what you want?” asked Carlos. “If it is, I can’t protect you.”

“Yes, it is,” said Julio, no hesitation in his voice. “Just let me walk. I don’t want to hurt any of you.”

Carlos looked at Julio incredulously. “Yo—you, afraid to hurt us? It’s you that needs to be afraid.”

“You don’t even know what kind of powers have my back,” replied Julio. “Those powers are all around me, protecting me—protecting me from you if it comes down to it. Just let me go, Carlos. I promise that I won’t ever do or say anything to diss the Kings.”

“Then step up, Julio, and accept what’s coming to you,” said Carlos. “Let’s see if those powers protect you.”

Julio shook his head sadly. “All right.”

A way was made through the crowded room as Julio moved toward the center. He found himself standing before Angel.

“There will be no blades,” warned Carlos, gazing about at the crowd and then focusing on Angel.

Angel returned his leader’s gaze, but said nothing. He knew the rules; he
didn’t need a lecture, and he sure as hell didn’t need a blade.

“Stand back,” warned Angel, turning to the crowd, which numbered over 50 men and women. “I get to be the first to mess this little traitor up. I’ll put so many bruises on him, break him up into so many pieces, that his own mama won’t recognize him.”

Through all of Angel’s ranting, Julio stood there calmly. He didn’t seem a bit afraid of this muscular man that towered over him.

Angel’s first blow was a right fist directed at Julio’s chest. He seemed astonished when that blow was stopped in mid-air by Julio’s open hand.

“Don’t do this, Angel,” warned Julio, applying ever more pressure to the big man’s fist.

Angel threw his other fist, only to find it intercepted like the first.

Julio applied an opposing twist to each arm; that was accompanied by a sickening crack. An instant later, Angel had been cast into the crowd, with both wrists broken.

The silence that followed was stark, even frightening, but it didn’t last long. Another gang member charged Julio from the rear, yet Julio swung around to sweep him right off of his feet with his left leg. Julio’s moves seemed superhuman.

Julio’s swift rotation continued so as to bring his fist squarely into the chest of yet another attacking member of the gang. To his right, a gang member managed to plant his fist into Julio’s cheek, only to find himself thrown over Julio’s head, his right arm wrenched from its socket.

Although Julio was at the center of the struggle, other totally inexplicable things were happening around the room. Pictures flew off walls and the concrete floor shook, for no apparent reason. Around the room, some of the gang members were fighting with each other. Still more inexplicable were flashes of light and shadowy ethereal forms that appeared randomly about the room.

After a minute and a half, the fury was spent. Julio had put eight big men and a woman on the floor, while suffering only three punches. He had no other challengers; none were so foolish.

Julio turned to Carlos, who had taken no part in the violence of the past minute and a half. “Is it over now?”

Carlos was visibly shaken. What he had just seen was supernatural, and he knew it. “Whose hand is protecting you, Julio? Tell me.”

“I think you know,” replied Julio. He turned to the others. “I didn’t want to hurt you, not any of you. I love you all. But I have a calling on my life, a calling from God. It’s his angels that have protected me. They’ve been here all along; they’re still here. I want you to know, they’re calling you, too. They’ll bless you if you let them.” Julio turned to Carlos. “Am I free to go now?”

“You can go,” replied Carlos, who turned to the others. “No one stops him; no one hurts him, not now, not ever. Give him room.”

The others made way as Julio walked from the room. Who was there to stop him, anyway?

Julio was halfway down the long alleyway before he heard someone calling his name. He turned to see Salvador and Karina, two of the gang members about his age. He stopped.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” said Salvador, approaching him slowly.

“I know that,” said Julio, wiping a trace of blood from his lower lip.

“I don’t think we could,” noted Karina.

Julio chuckled. “Probably not; then again, I don’t think the two of you would want to anyway. You’re my friends. I know that.”

“We are,” assured Salvador. “We saw what you did. Whatever it is that you’ve gotten into, we want to be a part of it. We’re with you Julio.”

“Even if it means leaving the Kings?” asked Julio.

“Even if it means leaving the Kings,” confirmed Karina.

Julio placed his arms around his two friends. “I’m really glad the two of you are here,” he said. “My life would be a lot lonelier without you. I want you to be a part of what I’ve found. Maybe I should say that it is what has found me.”

The blank expressions that he got from his friends told him that they didn’t understand. “Yo, it’s off da hook!” he continued. “You just got to experience it for yourselves.”

“We want to,” said Karina.

“Then I’ll tell you all about it,” said Julio. “I’ll tell you the whole thing. Then, if you still want it, it’s yours for the taking. We’re going to be a part of a great awakening, my friends. It’s gonna be poppin’! We are going to change the world!”

Within the prison of his own mind, the real Julio was screaming. “No, not Karina, not Salvador, no you can’t.”

But it was no longer his decision. He had given up his rights to this body on that rooftop three weeks ago. Now Krugloe called the shots. As the three walked down that alleyway, Julio realized that the nightmare was just beginning. Already, he felt the demonic spirits gathering around them. Now he would have company in his strange, fleshly imprisonment; now Salvador and Karina would know his pain.