Deadly Dozen: 12 Mysteries/Thrillers (209 page)

With great difficulty, he went on to make his confession. It took a while for him to get to the point where he confessed that she’d been raised by the very family responsible for killing her parents. But somehow he made their taking her sound like an act of mercy and love rather than treachery.

“Can you ever forgive me?” he said.

She took his hand gently.

“Lito, I already know.”

“You do? How?”

“I met my grandfather, Juan Suarez. He told me everything—about my parents, about how you killed Alfonso because he was going to reveal the secret to me.”

“It was more than that, Maria. Alfonso was going to hurt you. And he and the Hernandezes were going to join forces with the Suarezes. If that happened—”

She held up her finger.

“Oh no, I just remembered something.” She reached into her bag and pulled out her phone. “Give me a second, please?”

She sent a text message to Joey Hernandez.

Calling it off.

I will still pay you.

Do not come anywhere near. OK?

She expected an immediate reply.

But when none came, she panicked. Until now she’d assumed she was in charge of this plan. But what if she were just a part of
Joey’s
plan?

She got up. “We have to go, Lito.”

“What’s wrong?” he stood and followed her.

“Please, trust me. We’ve got to get out of here before it’s too late.”

As they edged sideways toward the aisle, Maria saw a pair of men at the far end of the bleachers talking into walkie-talkies. They could not have been security guards, not if they were who she thought they were.

“Over there, by the exit,” she said. “See those guys?”

“They don’t look like the religious type.” He gripped her arm.

The men started walking in their direction.

“They’ve seen us,” she said. “Hurry!”

CHAPTER EIGHTY

AT THE EDGE OF THE STADIUM Nick detected an all too familiar pair of imposing figures—Johann and Serena, both of whom had foregone leather and now looked like Secret Service bodyguards. Their presence made one thing clear: Lena was near. Which might have meant they were looking for him, too.

With Hope so close by, though, he had to know what Lena was up to. And besides, being seen with the likes of Johann and Serena had its advantages. No one would mess with him if they were near. He might even be able to convince Lena to help him get inside. One last favor, for old time’s sake.

A strong hand grasped his shoulder. He noticed a slight flash of light behind him, then spun around. Blocking his view of just about everything, Johann glared down at him.

“Be still. Listen carefully. You need to know what’s happening.”

“What—”

“Trust me,” Johann said, bending down to whisper. “Impersonate Lena, then talk to Serena.” He vanished.

Craning his neck, Nick saw Serena turn in their direction. He wasn’t predisposed to trust Johann, but his plan made sense. Cloaking himself in a construct to resemble Lena just as Serena stepped over, Nick scanned the area.

“Where is he?”

“Who?” Nick’s disguised voice leapt an octave.

“Johann,” Serena said.

“Doing what I asked.”

Serena glanced left, right, then signaled to someone in the distance.

“I thought I saw Nikolai,” she said.

“And you just stood there?”

Serena narrowed her eyes to lethal slits.

“You
said
not to kill him until I told you first.”

“That’s right. Good job.” A torrent of disturbing thoughts flooded Nick’s mind.
You need to know what’s happening
, Johann had said. “We’ll deal with him later, give me an update.”

Just then the two other large men who had met with Lena that night joined them.

“Dan, Gunther—status?” Serena said.

“Sniper’s in place, Hernandez’s and Suarez’s people are armed and posted at every exit.”

“Nukes are set to detonate in ten minutes and twenty seconds. No one’s leaving here alive tonight.”

Nick’s innards twisted into knots, his mouth went bitter dry.

“Excellent,” he said, struggling to imitate Lena’s coldness. “And how do I deactivate them?”

All three spoke at once, but the voice he heard was Gunther’s.

“We just spent all this time arming them, why—”

“Are you
challenging
me?” The sound of Lena’s threatening voice coming out of him was disturbing. “I need to know that you’ve set everything correctly. It’s conceivable that the timing might change. Now, review the protocols for disarming!”

“Retina scan.” Dan came over to Nick and pointed at what he perceived as Lena’s right eye. “The only way to arm or disarm the nukes is to have your retina scanned for the first device, Serena’s for the second.”

“Are they in the correct locations?”

“Sublevels C and B, as ordered,” Dan said. “Koslupov’s...hanging out down there in B.”

Gunther snorted. “Not that anyone will find him before it’s all turned to ash.”

Hope.

Nick had to get her out of there. But he had one more question.

“Confirm the sniper’s instructions and target.”

Serena threw her hands up. “Why are you wasting time reviewing everything? Is
this
Lena Walker, the legendary Nephilim just one step down the command chain from Morloch? ”

Nephilim?

“Answer the damned question!”

Serena’s eyes blazed, but Nick stared her down.

“A few minutes into the onstage speech,” she said, “the sniper will take out the target Hope Matheson from VIP Lounge six.”

“It’s almost time,” Gunther said. “We still have to find Nikolai.”

Nick was having a hard time maintain Lena’s chilling calm.

“All right. Spread out and do it.”

“Dan, you search the stands and manage the Suarez men.” Serena said. “Gunther, go through the sublevels.”

They went off—except for Serena.

“You’re unfit, Lena,” she said. “Whatever the Dark Dominion saw in you is beyond—”

“GO!”

She went, leaving Nick to fight his ever-increasing nausea.

The Dark Dominion?

The assignments made sense now. He understood why they’d wanted to stop Hope, distract Jonathan Hartwell, protect Lito then kill him once he turned. From the start, Lena had recruited him for the Dark Dominion. He should have known better, but she and Harold Morloch had hooked him with everything he thought he wanted. Now, like it or not, he was party to the horrific death and destruction about to take place.

From the center of the stadium, the band’s final chords faded. A round of applause went up, and over the loudspeakers, an announcer spoke.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Jonathan Hartwell.”

CHAPTER EIGHTY-ONE

NICK MANAGED TO TELEPORT INTO THE HALLS of the stadium. Like a dying light bulb, his disguise as Lena flickered. The queasiness abated. And once he released the Lena construct he started to feel better.

He barely heard the man introducing Jonathan Hartwell. If only he had a visual image of VIP Lounge 6, he might still be able to teleport there and stop the sniper.

He drew a deep breath, rested a hand on the wall. As best he could he focused on the concept of VIP Lounge 6, the image of a sniper….

Nothing.

Eyes shut tight he tried again, this time focusing on the image of a rifle. The pain spiking through his brain suggested it wasn’t going to work. But when he opened his eyes, he found himself in another section of the stadium. The lights were dim and gave him no clue where he’d teleported.

He wiped the moisture under his nose—it wasn’t perspiration.

It was blood.

Again.

Thin though the blood was, it probably meant his angelic powers must be about to expire. Couldn’t they last just one more day? How could he stop an armed man and two nuclear explosions without them?

He’d never felt so desperate. Or so determined. No matter what, no matter how, he had to keep the sniper in VIP Lounge 6 from killing the woman he loved.

Up ahead, a stronger overhead light fell on a wall sign. Nick ran over to it, relieved to find a map framed behind a Plexiglas window that showed the stadium’s levels, restrooms, exits, and...

VIP lounges, two levels up.

But they were on the opposite side of the stadium.

Another attempt at teleporting struck back like a blow to the head with a steel pipe. The pain itself seemed to inhibit his ability.

And so, though his progress would seem ridiculously slow, Nick started running as fast as his mortal body could stand.

“Hello, San Diego!” Jon called out. The cheers and flashing lights almost blinded him, his vision was blurred by tears threatening to spill. “Thank you all for coming tonight.” You’d have thought he’d said something brilliant, judging by the crowd’s reaction and how long it went on. He looked down to the front row, grateful but not surprised that Elaine was there, next to Matthew. The surprise had come when she believed his tearful phone confession.

“Let me begin by saying to everyone I have hurt—the wife I love, the young woman I failed, my staff, church, and everyone I’ve disappointed—I truly regret the pain and embarrassment I caused. I have since asked and received my wife’s forgiveness, I’ve asked forgiveness from my church and staff, and now I earnestly seek yours.

“This lapse in judgment has shown me that I am not above temptation. Although nothing sexual transpired, I was nevertheless wrong for allowing this to happen, and failing to keep myself above reproach. I have no one but myself to blame, I take full responsibility, and am grieved by my failure.

“But I think to be forgiven, grief over the sin is just a starting point. Action is required in the form of repentance, as well as the renunciation of my pride, anger and fear, which led me to make excuses and rationalize doing what I knew I must not.

“In the scripture, God says, ‘If My people who are called by My name will humble themselves, and pray and seek My face, and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin and heal their land.’

“Tonight, before you and before God, I humble myself in repentance, I commit myself to turning from the slightest hint of impropriety, and from my selfish and hurtful ways.

“Now, I believe it is in the best interest of everyone that I step down from this ministry, trusting you not to allow my failures to change your view of the God who loves every one of us, who always forgives. He never changes, never gives up on us, however much we deserve it—I deserve it. As I have always preached, put your hope in Him, not in man.” He was quiet for a moment, as if considering his next words.

“Not in me.”

#

Nick had to stop running. Winded, the only thing he heard was Hartwell’s voice over the wall mounted monitors.

“Will you pray with me that God would create in me a clean heart, and renew a right spirit within me?”
Hartwell turned his face to the domed ceiling as though it were open to the evening sky
. “Dear Lord, cast me not away from Your presence, and take not Your Holy Spirit from me. I pray my failure will cause no one to stumble and fall away from You. In Jesus’s name...” He wiped the tear rolling down his cheek.

“Amen.”

Like a great sigh, a collective “amen” floated up to fill the stadium, followed by applause so loud it seemed to be coming from all across the country. Nick, having caught his breath, continued running to the VIP lounges as Hartwell began speaking again.

“Friends, in just a moment you’re going to meet a remarkable woman and friend of the ministry. She’s going to share a remarkable testimony—it’s brief but I know it will encourage you, no matter what you’re going through.

“Her name—most serendipitously—is Hope. Let me tell you just a little about Hope Matheson.”