Gabriel's Revenge (The Adventures of Gabriel Celtic Book 2) (25 page)

Chapter 68

August 29, 1998

It was the dead of night when Girard arrived at the Abby. Pulling up in front of the old carriage house, he got out and pulled each of the doors out before getting back in the car and entering the old building. Shutting off the car, he got out and reclosed the doors before walking into the Abby.

He knew his mission was finished, at least, in this country. Though not quite complete, he had accomplished
almost
everything he had set out to do, or rather, everything God had sent him to do.

Entering the old building through the back door, the house was quiet. He had expected that, the others of his order having passed on long ago. After electing himself the Prior, he had hired a local oaf from the community to maintain the building, and a local bookkeeper to watch over the accounts and donations. Being a mendicant order, they had always relied on the charity of others to maintain their building, and their mission. He smiled as he thought about the four letters he sent each year, gently reminding his patrons it was time once more to put forth their pledge of support, the fate of their souls of course hanging in the balance.

He had much to do, but he reckoned that he had a couple of days to get everything in order. First things first, he would need guidance on how to proceed, where to go. The Lord would put him where he was needed the most; he had but to ask.

Heading into a small room at the back of the house, he walked up to the old table, bare except for the crucifix and candles that surrounded it.

Lighting the candles, he then went to the small bathroom in the hall, stripping down all the way before turning on the cold water. Grabbing the lye soap, he methodically scrubbed every inch of his body, the cleansing ritual always the first step before talking to the Lord. Washing off the dirt and sins of those he was forced to interact with daily left him pure in the eyes of his God.

Letting the cold water run over his head, he then grabbed a towel from the cupboard next to the sink, drying his body completely before donning a clean robe. Reaching down to his discarded soutane, he gently extracted the old leather testament and headed back into the candlelit room.

Kneeling in front of the table, he crossed himself, kissed the cross on his neck, and opened the small book. Finding the right page, he started once more reading the dead language like it was spilling off of the page, the words running together in what sounded like a low mumble.

The calm enveloped him quickly like a blanket, increasing in its intensity as he read page after page of the book. The quiet overtook him as his ears closed off the mortal world around him. His sight was then enveloped by the darkness closing in around the outer edges of his vision, forcing his focus on the small book before him. The blurred letters on the page before him became as one, but he continued to recite the words from memory; the characters melting finally into a series of straight lines on the page.

Affirmation was received when the blurred lines recreated themselves into the guidance he had been seeking. His new mission would again be in South Africa, his work still needed, his mission secure.

Setting the testament on the table, he again crossed himself before trying to stand, his legs giving out from under him as usual. He slowly pulled himself over to the old couch on one wall of the room, lifting himself up little by little onto the ragged furniture. Covered with sweat; but he was happy…so happy. He would sleep for just a short while before making his final preparations he thought to himself, before quickly falling into the dreamless sleep of the truly blessed.

Chapter 69

August 29, 1998

“Abby, wake up!”

I was gently nudging her, but she wasn’t responding.

“Abby?”

“I’m up, I’m up,” she said as she brought up her arms and stretched. “Where are we?”

It was starting to get light outside, “I don’t know, about a half an hour away I think.”

“Man, you let me sleep too long,” she said through a yawn, stretching again.

“You looked like you needed it,” I said while looking once again at the fuel gauge. “We’ll have to stop up here to get fuel; maybe we can get some directions to the Abbey from somebody there.”

Five minutes later we were pulling into a gas station, I started the pump while Abby went in to see if she could get directions. After both using the facilities and buying fresh coffee, we got back on the road heading north.

“They said just keep on US 421, and when we get into town, take a right on West Joliet Road; it’s about 2 miles out of town past the high school.”

I nodded and kept driving; I had been trying to work out a plan all night with little success. Not knowing what exactly we were even looking for was of course a hindrance, and also not knowing for sure if the monk was yet there.

“It’s still early; why don’t we stop at the high school and suit up, should be no kids there yet. Then we can find the place, maybe drive by a couple of times to check the layout of the property. I have no idea even how big it is.”

This seemed to suit Abby as she grabbed the small satchel I had brought with the extra bullets. Loading her clip, she then stuck extra bullets into her pocket.

“I can’t believe I didn’t bring at least one extra clip,” she said discouraged.

“Don’t sweat it; he may have weapons, but I doubt it.”

Thinking about it, I reached down and undid the Velcro strap on the ankle holster. “Here, take this as a backup.”

“Cool,” she exclaimed as she installed the holster on her ankle.

Holding out the speed loader I asked her if she had ever used one.

“I’ve played around with one a couple of times, but not really.”

I encouraged her to practice with it, and she spent five minutes getting used to it. Satisfied, she also placed the speed loader into her pocket, and then got to work on my Colt, refilling the onboard clip, as well as the spares.

By the time we got to the high school, all of the weapons were loaded and ready, and I pulled behind the building to give us a little privacy. Donning the vests and guns, we determined we were as ready as we would ever be, probably even a little over prepared we both agreed.

Driving out to the road again, we took our time, finally coming up to an old farmhouse building that we guessed might be it. The small sign in the front yard confirmed it for us, announcing the house as the ‘Abbey of St. Bernadette, Blessed Order of St. Benedict’.

“Do you think that his order knows what he is really doing?” Abby asked with a frown, “Surely this isn’t sanctioned by the brotherhood.”

“I think
somebody
must know what he’s doing; how else could he get away with it for all of these years?” I stated, also perplexed.

“As far as the Benedictine Monks having this type of mission, I doubt it. I did a little research on their order in the encyclopedia; each community is more or less independent. They have the autonomy from one another to act more or less freely. I’ve got to believe that most of the Abbeys have a far different mission than this one.”

Glancing over at Abby, she was wearing the mischievous grin I had come to expect on her face.

“What?” I ask, perplexed.

“It’s so cute that you still use an encyclopedia! Ever hear of the internet?”

I was initially a little peeved, having not yet jumped on the internet bandwagon, and seeing nothing wrong with a little good, old-fashioned footwork. Her continued grin however made me loose any anger I may have had at her statement, and I smiled back at my protégé.

“Ok, so I’m a little behind the times; that’s not always a bad thing!”

“No, you do quite well with your ways…most of the time. So tell me, who do you think
does
know about what Girard is doing?”

I had had a lot of time to think about that on the drive this morning. Thinking back on the reaction of Father Joe at St. Linda’s, his rapid phone call up his chain of command, as well as the overreaction of Allen on the subject, I could only come to one conclusion.

“I think it could be the honorable Peter Adrian Dolan, the Archbishop of Indianapolis!” 

Chapter 70

August 29, 1998

“You think the Archbishop is behind Girard’s killing spree?”

“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “Maybe not behind it so much as knows about it. It may not even be him personally, but I would bet my house it is him or one of his close minions!”

“That’s disturbing,” Abby lamented as we leisurely continued past the old house.

“Whether the monk is in there or not, we may be able to find evidence here that will help point us to others if there is anyone else involved,” I said out loud.

A short tweet erupted from Abby’s side of the car, and she immediately unclipped her cell phone and opened it up, reading the screen for a few moments before she started pushing buttons furiously. Closing the phone again, she re-clipped it to her belt.

“What was that?” I asked.

“Text message,” Abby said, looking out the window. “From Nate, just wondering where I was.”

The term was new to me, but of course I was a dinosaur with technology.

“So Nate, what’s the deal with you two anyway?”

Smiling shyly, Abby leaned back in her seat. “Nate is a super guy; we just started hanging out after work a few months ago. Gradually, it developed into something…a little more.”

“You’re in love with him I guess,” I asked, finding myself interested and yet a little uncomfortable with the conversation.

“He’s madly in love with me, and I do love him, but I find myself holding back just a little. I’m just not ready for a big commitment right now.”

Her grin returned, “Don’t worry; I won’t be getting married anytime soon…Dad.”

I smiled; it was the first time she had called me that, and although it was in jest and I didn’t expect it to be a common thing, I still got a kick out of hearing it.

“Does Nate know about…us?”

“He knows you’re my friend, that’s all; although it was driving him crazy why I hung around you so much,” she giggled at this. “I’ll tell him now though…if that is ok?”

“Sure thing kid,” I said with a smile, finding a county road to turn around at a couple miles from the house. Pulling to the side of the road heading back, I stopped and put the car in park.

“Ok, I didn’t see any good way to approach the house, sitting on that small hill; it pretty much overlooks the road from both directions. Did you notice anything?”

“Maybe,” she said thinking. “We need to drive by again to confirm, but right in front of the house the hill is pretty steep. Maybe we could park there and he wouldn’t see us until we were right in front of the building.”

Nodding, I pulled the lever down into drive and we headed back toward the Abbey. Paying close attention as we passed, we noticed that the hill would indeed block the view of our progress as we approached, but that there was a good twenty feet of clearing we would have to pass through to get to the house.

I was thinking about this as I looked ahead and drove on by, while Abby stayed glued to the window until the house was out of sight.

“There may be another way,” Abby said excitedly. “Let me have your notebook.”

I pulled off the road again, handing her the notebook and a pen. She started drawing furiously on the paper, sketching out the layout of the Abbey from heart.

“Ok, check this out! The driveway is actually cut into the hill that the house sits on, with this old garage actually closer to the road than the house is. If we pull into the driveway, and go left of the shed and park, they would only see us for a few seconds… if they were looking.”

She continued to map out the driveway, and a couple of additional buildings. “The driveway winds around the back of the house like this, and ends up at the old barn in back. But there are these other two buildings behind the garage, one on each side of the driveway. If we go from the garage to the first shed, and then to the second, we should be blocked from view most of the way. The second shed is only about ten feet from the house!”

The plan looked doable, but being called dad a few minutes before had spooked me, giving me second thoughts about putting Abby in harm’s way.

“Tell you what,” I said thinking out loud. “Why don’t you drive and drop me off at the end of the driveway. I’ll work my way up beside the garage and around while you park the car below the hill.”

Silence.

“What?” she said loudly. “You want me to stay in the car?”

She was fuming now, and I sat there, unsure of a response.

“Are you trying to protect me because I’m a woman? Oh, I get it; it’s because I’m your daughter, and now that you know you have some kind of overprotective father complex!”

“Get this straight Gabe, I can take care of myself; you know that! It was my idea to come, and I’m going in, and no amount of misplaced chivalry is going to keep me waiting in the car like some…some…little girl!”

Well, that hadn’t worked out as I had planned.

“I’m sorry Abby, but it isn’t just that, it’s much, much more than that. Everybody I’ve been close to I’ve lost to bad people, one to the very one that may be in there right now. I don’t know if I could handle losing you too!”

Her face softened then. “Ok….ok, I can see where you are coming from, but we are in this thing together Gabe, in for a penny, in for a pound. Besides, I’ve got you to cover my back!”

Her smile returned then, and I couldn’t help but smile back. The risk was there, but she had proven herself more than capable in the church basement, and who was I to question her abilities.

Uppity women, I seemed to attract them like a magnet.

“Ok then, you ready?”

Nodding her head, she looked forward as I again turned the car around. Heading back down the road, I had to slow to a crawl to turn into the narrow driveway. Once in, the old Mercedes accelerated smoothly up the incline as I pulled to the left of the garage and slid to a stop in the grass. Shutting down the car, we exited quickly and squeezed ourselves against the wall of the shed. I had to smile as the car took over the duties of closing the doors for us…German engineering.

We stayed there for a full minute before, hearing nothing, I pointed my gun around the corner, covering Abby as she made her way to the first shed, she then covering me as I did the same.

“See anything?” I whispered once we were safely behind the building. She shook her head no, her face a picture of concentration. Going through the same scenario for the next building, we then made our way forward along the driveway side of the shed. Holding her weapon at head level, her right elbow extended out, she did a quick glance around the corner, pulling back momentarily before peeking around again. Staying at that position for thirty seconds, she rolled back against the shed wall beside me.

“There is a door on this side of the house, about ten feet away,” she whispered. “No windows around; we should be able to move to the back side of the house unseen.”

Nodding at her suggestion, she then covered me as I made my way around her and crouched down behind the old house. Holding my hand up, I checked both ways, listening for any movement either inside or out of the house. Waving her over, she quickly joined me, only the jingle of her spare bullets making any noise as she ran.

I peered around the corner, and seeing nothing, I duck walked to the low stoop of the back door. Following close behind, Abby stood up beside the entrance as I stayed squatting in front of the door. Thinking better of my position, I motioned her over and then stood next to her beside the door. Reaching over to the door with my left hand, I slowly turned the knob, then moved the door in an inch. Surprised that it was unlocked, I turned to Abby and indicated that I was going in.

Crouching beside the old door, I reached over and pushed the door gently, the apparently well-oiled hinges allowing it to open silently half way, an old house smell wafting out through the opening. Looking around the corner over my weapon, I saw that there was no one there; so I stood up and scooted around the door frame into an old kitchen. Making room for Abby to enter, she followed into the room, gently closing the door behind her.

The old kitchen was Spartan by modern standards. An old sink basin had been mounted in a chipped Formica countertop, a hand pump perched beside it. Curtains ringed the side of the counter, being used instead of doors to hide what was stored below. An old round top refrigerator stood humming on the other side of the room, and a large table of rough looking wood sat in the center.

Seeing and hearing nothing, we slowly made our way around the table, heading for a doorway that looked like it might lead to a hall. The house was silent, and I was beginning to think that maybe we
were
alone in the house after all. I was fairly certain that the monk would not have stayed around Allenville after the events of last night, but could not fathom where else he might have gone if not to his home Abbey.

Looking behind me, Abby was a few steps behind, taking in everything around her. Seeming to feel my eyes on her, she turned toward me. Mouthing “Are you ok,” she nodded, proceeding to catch up until she was closer.

Turning toward the hallway once more, I was just thinking that this was going well so far…too well.

As if in response to my positive attitude, the floor let out a loud creak…