Sacred Flesh (8 page)

There wasn’t anything he really wanted to do this morning. Maybe leave his hotel room, walk down to the bakery and get something sweet and some coffee. The city impressed him with the bustle of traffic, how Americans always seem to be in such a hurry. He sees all this on his morning walk though this time forgoing the bakery he heads straight to the city park. It’s quiet there, affording brief moments of reflective solitude, somewhere to go over all the nagging thoughts in his mind. The choices, the bad choices he has made in the past, but everyone’s like that right? No one has gotten it perfect, so screw the past. He attempts to bolster himself. It’s the future that is changeable but what of that? Do I stay working for The Church on these assignments, always at their beck and call until they say ‘okay’ and I’m released and thus in position to receive grandfather’s sizable inherence? That’s a pot of money to be sure and surely any action that would risk or sacrifice it would be foolish but is this not a form of prison to be locked in their service?

I could just break away and now would be the time. I could simply stay here in America and start a new life (of course without any hope of the inherence.) And what would I do? I have the divinity training, there is that, but I couldn’t exactly place my covert work on a resume. Surely, there must be some way out. I’m still young at twenty seven. I still have a chance but if I go back who knows how long they may keep me and if I tried to renounce them over there well, I might as well renounce them here, here and now! They know nothing of my thoughts I’m sure. I could tell that when I spoke with them yesterday about my conversation with Dunbar which didn’t go well at all. I don’t think he believes I was trying to warn him of the danger of the
Elite
. He acts like a frighten animal. I’m not so sure he understands the depth of danger to himself and others. I could meet with him again why not? If he won’t work for us he can’t work for them. The testing must stop no matter what, offer him money to turn over the sample and the results when he discovers “It.” Come to us. We will pay you and protect you. Without the sample the
Elite
is diminished. What hope could they have to continue? They will be labeled terrorist. The America government will come down on them hard. I must tell him this, impress the essence of time, surely he will follow. He has to.

Sitting on the park bench, a pigeon scatters by as he gazes around his eyes focus on an approaching figure walking quickly towards him. “No, it can’t be.”

“It is the feds. She went to them, our first sample woman, and I’m sure she told them everything, now it’s too late to silence her. Now time is ticking much faster for us,” Logo says to Haggai knowing it’s the last thing he wants to hear.

“Damn all! Everything is in jeopardy, if the feds come bursting through here the whole operation is over. Everything we’ve been working for, everything our fathers and their fathers have been working for: the day that Rome will bow down to us, all that will be over. Has Dunbar returned the second result yet?” Haggai asks, looking worried while sitting at his desk.

“No not yet, I meet with him Thursday,” Logo says.

“Get a hold of him today make it NOW! Make it in the morning; get that result and the sample back,” Haggai says. “If the second sample shows normal then we know the third sample is His. And then we can finally begin. Of course, if “It” is the second then we go with that one, either way the second result is everything, all rides on the second, do you understand?” Haggai asks.

“Yes, I know it’s all about the second result but what do we do with Dunbar?” Logo asks.

“I don’t care. Pay him and be done with him. We don’t need him after the second test. Of course, he’ll be pissed that there’s no third test but so what? What’s he going to do? He accepted all that cash under the table, he goes to the police and the IRS will be right behind. No, Mr. Dunbar knows very well the advantages of a closed and secure mouth. I’m not worried about him; just get the second result by tomorrow,” Haggai says.

“I’ve been thinking if the Feds are moving in it may be time to close this office and move operations to the warehouse,” Logo says.

“You mean the old warehouse: the basement in the old warehouse in the country? We haven’t worked out of there for awhile,” Haggai says.

“Right now it’s the most secure location. We get the second result, move there and quarantine ourselves and then proceed with the impregnation,” Logo says standing in front of his desk.

“We have a chosen carrier?” Haggai asks looking up at him.

“Yes, she’s one of our recruits very eager to help and already close to the operation,” Logo answers.

“How so?” Haggai asks.

“We were using her as Dunbar’s close contact. Soon she will be carrying the seed of the sacred flesh.”

In his office he can’t stop pacing. The thought of escaping the whole mess grows nearer in his mind. Walking down the hallway he decides to stop and see Glenn, an old friend could prove a tonic for the troubled soul. The door is ajar so he ventures in, no Glenn here; must’ve gone to the bathroom. I’ll wait, he thinks while standing alone in the office. Looking briefly at the golf and sailing photos on the wall he moves closer to the desk covered in books and papers. Jim stops, he can’t help but notice a large envelop in the center of Glenn’s desk. The lettering on the envelop looks very familiar, too familiar. It’s the same as on the letter he first received from the
Elite
. But no, it can’t be Jim reaches over picking it up and looking closer. It is. It’s the exact same lettering; who’s Haggai?

Oh no, have they’ve gotten to Glenn too? He’s involved somehow? But that can’t be he’s just a history professor. I’ve known Glenn for seven years. I’ve been golfing with him and sailing on his boat. He’s not into weird stuff like this or is he? Damn! Jim puts the envelope back on the desk and hurries out of the office: got to get out of here. Taking the stairs he flies down the three fights and out into the parking lot as the sun hits him in the face his eyes take a moment to adjust. He reaches in his pocket for his keys as his cell phone goes off.

“Hello?”

“Jim its Joey, I think we should talk. I need to come over.”

“Did you find out anything more?” Jim asks.

“We really need to talk Jim,” Joey says bluntly.

“How the hell did you find me here?” He asks while sitting on the bench.

“Never mind how, you got a minute?” Jill says while quickly sitting down next to him and brushing aside her long brown hair.

“Does it matter if I do or not?” he asks.

“No, not really,” she answers.

“So what do you want with me?”

“You may be in danger. The
Elite
have vacated their headquarters. We raided it last night, nothings left. We’re not certain where they’ve gone either they’ve broken ranks and scattered or they’ve set up operations elsewhere. We had them in our crosshairs and now they’ve slipped away.”

“They have that tendency. They can be very elusive if they want to be. Their whole gig is underground to begin with,” he says.

“The micro biology professor Jim Dunbar; he’s in contact with them right? You can get a hold of him, that’s what you were sent here to do correct?” She asks.

“Yes, I spoke with him three days ago. But I don’t think he believes me. He just doesn’t understand the danger.”

“We need to talk to Mr. Dunbar as soon as possible,” she says.

“Why are you asking me? Surely you guys know where he lives. You know where he works at the university. Just make an appointment and go to his office,” he says.

“Well, you see the thing is he isn’t at any of those locations and no one’s seen or heard from him for awhile.”

“Really?”

“So now the
Elite
and Jim Dunbar are both missing at the same time, not real good.” She looks at him coldly.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Jim says with a touch of anger in his voice while sitting at the desk in the hotel room he recently booked to get away, lay low and think things through.

“Just what I said, listen I’m sorry Jim. I didn’t mean to lie to you but I didn’t know what else to do you got to understand these guys aren’t screwing around. They gave me $50,000 just to tell you that there was nothing wrong with them. What was I suppose to do, not take the money? Tell them no? If they can afford fifty grand for just a little thing like that I’m sure they are capable of a lot of really bad stuff. I’m not real fond of waking up dead, maybe we should go to the police I don’t know,” he says nervously.

“Why are you telling me this now?” Jim asks.

“I don’t know. It’s been eating at me. These guys are nothing to mess with Jim. They gave me fifty grand in cash just to feed you some bull. It makes me believe they’re willing to go much further to get anything they want.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that feeling too. They left a strange message on my voice mail. I wasn’t supposed to meet with them until Thursday, today’s Monday and they want the second sample result back as soon as possible. They sound desperate. They’ve always been so cool and relaxed, very smooth. But now I get the feeling like: come on hurry up let’s go.”

“Doesn’t sound good,” Joey says.

“What did they tell you exactly?” Jim asks.

“They said they had some pieces of old human flesh and they needed DNA testing done. You were the perfect candidate for them. Everything had to be done in secret because there were others who wanted to get their hands on the samples too,” Joey says.

“That means he was right. That joker that told me about the
Elite
he was right! I doubted him at first, said he was sent here from Rome to warn me about these guys, said they’d kill me if they need to, wants me work for the church, said they would save me from the
Elite
, save me no less!”

“Maybe you ought to find that guy Jim. Maybe you ought to take him up on that,” Joey says.

“I’m not sure how to get a hold of him. I threw away the number he gave me.”

“What are you going to do? Give the
Elite
the second result?”

“No, I can’t do that. They don’t need me around after the second result. How do I know they won’t try to keep me quiet-forever? If this really is some kind of bizarre power play between the
Elite
and The Church then the
Elite
would have good reason to not want me around after the testing is concluded. I know too much,” Jim says shaking his head.

“But how do they know what you do or do not know?” Joey asks.

“I have no idea how much they know about me, but I’m sure it’s a lot. They have their spies. I mean look, they even got to you. I think they’ve got people to keep an eye on me,” Jim says.

“Maybe you ought to try and find that guy, maybe they can help you,” Joey says.

“Well, I’m going to have to do something. I can’t stay here forever,” Jim says while standing up and looking out the window.

Oh good friend you will be safe with me, he thinks after putting the large text down on the table. Away from those rancid fools. They have destroyed the good name of the order, once so long ago, we were on the verge of respect but no longer, for the wicked course they have taken: bent so very much on power and revenge-why revenge? Does not the Lord tell us to forgive? Who forgives in the
Elite
? No one! This sacred text bears the names of our fathers, the sacred bloodline going back centuries: our dear ancestors. Oh yes, I suppose some of them were fools too, is it not human nature-imperfection? But many, such as my father and grandfather, they did not believe in the power tactics. No, why not just accept the differences; accept that Rome will never recognize us as legitimate. So what? Could we not have gone on worshiping and growing as a church unto ourselves? How many religious sects broke with Rome but yet went on to flourish? We do not flourish, never have, for we must remain, they tell us, underground until the time is right to emerge, to rear our heads and strike out secure in the knowledge that revenge will be ours, that Rome will be beaten down so badly that the faithful will turn to us for guidance and we the
Elite
will lead the new and rightful church. Oh, what contemptible fools, if these things were the will of God would they not have occurred, if it were God’s will that the
Elite
lead the faithful wouldn’t we have been doing that for the last few centuries instead of roaming about like rats, always hiding? This plan of theirs; it is not God’s will but their own selfish will, for they are bent solely on power and revenge.

In the basement of the old warehouse it is dark save for the assorted candlelight flicking, producing shadows amidst the bare cement brick walls adorned fugally with a few oddly frayed tapestries upon the walls. On one, a large triangle with a small circle inside bordered by twenty-seven red squares, the other shows another large triangle within it a single flame next to the letter E.

In the carven of this makeshift abode the eleven don purple robes. Wearing their vestments they begin to form a large circle. In the middle covered in a red robe is Haggai, his head bowed and his eyes closely tightly. The others begin to chant softly, slowly rising in a crescendo unison: “Nostrum Abbas, Nostrum Abbas.”