Hidden Thrones (23 page)

          Dante’s
private plane landed at Reagan National at 4:35 p.m. late Wednesday afternoon.
Dante traveled alone and without security, at least none that anyone could see.
He felt it was important to travel in the same way as everyday mortals did. He
loved portraying himself as human. It gave him a definite edge. He particularly
loved the way women looked at him. If he had to choose a form to take, he
figured he might as well be good looking. He was tall, but not too tall at six
feet, three inches, with jet-black hair and an athletic build.
 
He moved quickly through security,
carrying only his briefcase and a small travel bag. He continued out to the
concourse level
at
terminal A and stepped outside.

          Senator
Wellsenburg had arranged for a limousine to pick him up right outside the
terminal.  The limo was right on time and waiting for him as he came out of the
terminal. The driver quickly got out, walked around the back of the limo, and
opened the door for him.  Dante never looked at the driver and got in without
saying a word. He was extremely focused and had no interest in talking to
someone who, in his eyes, was of very little significance. The driver closed
the door and walked back around shaking his head. He returned to his seat and
the long, black limousine quickly pulled away. The driver never spoke. He had
been instructed to stay silent and to bring his passenger directly to the Hart
Senate Office Building.

         
Dante sat in the back of the
limousine and checked his email messages on his phone. He was a very powerful
being, but could only be in one place at a time. He wasn’t God although he liked
to think of himself as god-like. For now, this was the best way for him to keep
up with the rest of the human race, especially those on the Hill. He enjoyed
flying for many reasons, but absolutely hated driving around in cars. He would
much rather just appear at his destination than waste his precious time getting
frustrated in traffic. However, he had to continue to play the game if his plan
was to be successful.

         
It was a relatively short drive
to the Hart Senate Office Building from Reagan National via
 the
George Washington Memorial Parkway.
It was just over five miles and on a good day, you could make it there in about
eleven minutes. Today was a good day.

          The
limo pulled up to their destination on Second Street. The driver quickly jumped
out and opened the door for Dante. As he stepped out, a devilish grin crossed
his face. The driver had explicit orders to wait for him to return and then
take him to The Palomar Hotel on P Street. He had told the senator that
whenever he came to Washington, The Palomar is where he wished to stay, so he
left his small bag and briefcase in the limo. He knew he would have to go
through security before entering the building and he preferred not to have
anyone looking through his briefcase. He lifted his head and scanned the
building, then moved swiftly up the steps to the double doors on the outside of
the building.

         
Dante entered through the
westernmost set of stationary doors. The one on the right hand side opened
towards him and to the right. He entered through it, then through another interior
stationary door and immediately was within inches of the security checkpoint.
Dante walked in and lifted his arms high to show he didn’t have anything to
place on the conveyer belt of the x-ray machine. The guard didn’t care for his
dramatic display and looked him up and down. Then, in an annoyed gesture,
motioned to him to walk through the metal detector. Once on the other side, he
smiled triumphantly amusing himself. The guard shook his head, and then gave
him a nod of approval and Dante continued into the lobby. He looked up at the
atrium ceiling that rose high above the first floor, revealing the eight
balconies of the other floors in the building. The ninth, and very top floor,
was used for meetings and did not have a balcony.

         
The north elevator area had six
identical elevators, three elevators on the west wall and three elevators on
the east wall. There was no seating in any part of the vast lobby area, so
Dante made his way towards the elevators on the east side.  He was supposed to
text Senator Wellsenburg when he arrived, but he wanted to take his time and
soak in his surroundings. He pushed the button for the floor of the senator’s
office and grinned. He didn’t care at all about mere mortals, but he loved and
respected power and control and he felt it in abundance here.

         
The elevator doors opened and
there in the hallway, right in front of him, stood Senator Colson,
Wellsenburg’s chief nemesis. He was discussing a bill with Senator Rimersol of
South Carolina, a tall, thin, grey-haired man and a staunch supporter of
religious freedom. Colson, hearing the elevator announce its arrival, turned
and glanced over.

          As
Dante stepped out, their eyes met and instantly locked. They both felt it. It
was like a jarring jolt to their spirits. Something grabbed Dante’s attention
immediately. His eyes widened and he involuntarily took a step backward. There
was a small, glowing, gold, circular mark on Senator Colson’s forehead and it
appeared to have some kind of writing wrapped around it.

          Dante
knew what it was, but didn’t expect to find it here in what he mockingly
referred to as “The Den of Iniquity.” The mark was invisible to humans. Only
spirit beings could read it. No mortal could, not even those who wore it. It
was the seal of the Spirit of God. It came upon those who were true followers
of Jesus Christ. It was a seal of ownership, a kind of deposit guaranteeing
complete redemption of body and soul in the future. Dante turned his head away
quickly and acted like nothing happened.

         
Senator Rimersol glanced over at
Colson to get his reaction. Colson’s face said it all. He felt something was
terribly wrong, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. All he knew was that he
had an eerie feeling that started at the roots of the hairs of his head and ran
all the way down to the soles of his feet. Dante wasn’t interested in any type
of spiritual encounter, so he took note of who he was and then continued down
the hall as if nothing had taken place. Colson watched Dante walk down the hall
and turn into Wellsenburg’s office.

          Senator
Rimersol couldn’t help but notice the way Dante reacted. “Do you know that
man?” he asked, with a curious look on his face.

         
“Ah, no I don’t. And I’m not
altogether sure what that was all about, but I saw him go into Wellsenburg’s
office, so I have my suspicions.”

         
The senator nodded his head in
agreement. “I have no idea either, but that seemed pretty weird if you ask me.”

         
Senator Colson had a gut feeling
that Senator Wellsenburg was up to no good, which usually meant trouble. He
knew deep inside that he and this mystery man, whoever he was, would cross
paths again. The two men decided to take their conversation to Rimersol’s
office.       

         
Dante walked into Wellsenburg’s
office, dismissing the encounter as normal but unexpected. He announced himself
to Ms. Venoldy, the senator’s secretary, “Hello, I am Mr. Dante Adal. Senator
Wellsenburg is expecting me.”

         
Ms. Venoldy looked up from her
desk, a bit surprised but somewhat delighted. “Oh, Mr. Adal, The senator had
every intention of meeting you in the atrium.”

         
Dante smiled at her, “Yes, I was
supposed to notify him upon my arrival, but I decided to take my time and look
around a bit first before coming up. It’s fine. May I see him now?”

         
Ms. Venoldy smiled. She was obviously
taken by his charm and good looks. If she knew who he really was, she would
have screamed and run out the door.  “Yes, of course! I will announce you at
once.” She had a hard time taking her eyes off of him.

         
She picked up the phone, hit the
intercom button, and said, “Mr. Adal is here sir.”

         
Within moments the door flew open
and Wellsenburg appeared quite surprised. “Dante. I would have met you as you
came in. Did you have any trouble with security?”

         
Dante just stared. “No. Why would
I
have a problem with security?”

         
“No reason. I just wanted to make
sure that all went well. Please come in.” Turning to Ms. Venoldy, he said, “See
that we are not disturbed… for any reason.”

         
“Yes, sir. Absolutely,” she said
firmly, continuing her gaze as the door closed.

         
Dante walked in and sat down in
one of the senator’s leather chairs. “Would you like a drink? I keep a Deanston
Highland single
malt scotch whiskey in my desk.”

          “
Sure, pour me one.” He smirked.
Another perk for taking on
human form,
he thought to himself.

         
The
senator reached for the bottle and held it out proudly. “
The Deanston distillery is in
Scotland and sits just eight miles from historic Stirling on the
 
banks
 
of the River Teith. The site
served as a mill for much of its history until its conversion into a whiskey
distillery in 1965. It’s very smooth.” Among other things, Wellsenburg liked to
think of himself as a connoisseur of fine whiskey.

         
“I know the place well,” Dante
commented. “
At the end of the 13th
century, a long war began between the Scots and the English. During the war, Stirling
castle changed hands several times. The English invaded in 1296 and captured
the castle. However, they were severely defeated at the battle of Stirling
Bridge the same year.
 It was a fine and
bloody war as I remember.”

         
Wellsenburg set
two of his favorite
rocks glasses
 
on
his desk
.
They
were
short
 
tumble
rs
used for
drinking whiskey. They were rather old school, and he thought them perfect for
displaying the color of his favorite scotch. As he went to open the bottle, he
stopped for a moment, cocked his head to one side, and gave Dante a puzzled
expression. “As you remember? You talk like you were there.”

         
Dante recovered
well, “I read about it somewhere, and you know how I love history.” He shifted
his body in the chair and quickly changed the subject, “So I heard through the
grapevine that you have put a tail on Bennett and
Lederman, when I specifically told you that I
would handle it.”

         
Wellsenburg almost spilled the scotch he was
pouring. He was surprised and somewhat embarrassed. He thought he could keep
his little investigation secret, at least for the time being.

         
“Yes, well, I thought it would be best to keep an
eye on them. I don’t like surprises and they have been asking too many
questions lately.”

         
Wellsenburg handed Dante his glass of scotch. He
took the glass, lifted his right foot, and
rested
his ankle on his left knee,
making himself comfortable. He looked
straight at Wellsenburg.

         
“I have eyes everywhere. I don’t require any
assistance from you or anyone else when it comes to covert activity. What if
they trace it back to you or see you talking with certain unsavory characters? Have
you thought about that? We need to get you into the White House. You do want to
be President, don’t you?” Dante put the glass to his lips and, peering at
Wellsenburg over the edge of the glass, took a sip.

         
Wellsenburg felt like a little kid getting a life
lecture from his father, and he didn’t appreciate it. He took a hefty swallow
of his scotch and put his glass back down on his desk with just enough force to
let Dante know he wasn’t pleased with his tone of voice.  Dante lifted his
eyebrow slightly, a bit surprised, but at the same time delighted at the
senator’s moxie.

         
“I will be the next President of the United States.
There is no doubt in my mind about that,” he said with conviction and
determination. “You have to understand that sometimes I need to do things my
way.”

         
“I respect that in a man,” he said with a sinister
smirk on his face. “Okay, enough bantering. Let’s get down to business. So you
had them followed,” he said matter-of-factly. “Tell me what you found out. It
might be possible that I missed something. I’m open to enlightenment.”

         
“Well it seems Lederman has been snooping around
the bureau asking questions about a murder case that took place in Blackstone
Virginia some thirty years ago. They’re trying to connect me with those
murders.”