Gabriel.’
‘That crock about a race of superior humans building the pyramids? Please.’ Mabus leans forward, his eyebrows knitting. ‘Let me tell you something about this Michael Gabriel. I’ve spoken with many clergymen who are absolutely convinced he was the Antichrist.’
‘Mr. Mabus, by every account, Michael Gabriel died a hero.’
‘According to who? The government responsible for nearly getting us nuked? It’s well documented that Gabriel’s father, Julius, was a wacko, and so was Gabriel. He spent eleven years in a mental asylum for assaulting former Secretary of State Pierre Borgia. Does that sound like a hero to you? For all we know, Michael Gabriel may have been the one responsible for causing that alien to awaken in the first place. He did claim he had entered its vessel in the Gulf, right? He even said he was in communication with that demon.’
‘True, but—’
‘But nothing. We’ve all seen the footage. Gabriel entered the serpent’s mouth, and the two of them disappeared. Poof!’
‘What are you implying?’
‘Ain’t implying anything, I’m tellin’ you straight out that our Lord and Savior intervened at our darkest hour, sending Gabriel and his serpent back to Hell whence they came. Divine intervention, Richard, not some Mayan malarkey. Now humanity’s at a crossroads. We either learn from this brush with extinction and elect leaders who will help us become the God-fearing people Jesus always wanted us to be, or we stick our heads back in the guillotine and wait for the next Judgment Day.’
Peter Mabus signs three more autographs, then boards his private jet.
Campaign organizers line up to greet him in the aisle.
‘Beautiful job, Peter. The latest polls show us approaching 22 percent.’
‘The Dallas speech netted just under two million. Well done.’
‘Salt Lake City booked us for three more trips. The Mormons love you.’
Mabus acknowledges each assistant as he makes his way to his private office located in the rear of the 707 airbus.
An older, white-haired gentleman is waiting for him inside.
Mabus’s campaign manager, Texas billionaire Joseph H. Randolph, Sr., looks up from watching the CNN broadcast. ‘You did well on the family values crap, but you lost points when you labeled Gabriel the Antichrist. This campaign’s success may be fueled by a faith-based initiative, but the public still views Gabriel as a hero. In the end, his close ties to Chaney may be our undoing.’
‘Michael Gabriel will be old news by the 2015 New Hampshire primary.’
‘Maybe, but his child won’t be.’
‘His child?’
Randolph nods. Hands him the report.
Mabus scans the document, his blood pressure rising. ‘The Vazquez woman’s pregnant?’
‘Yes, and when the public finds out, and they will, they’ll flock to her like she’s the second coming of the Virgin Mary, her newborn worshiped like the baby Jesus. Chaney won’t even have to campaign, he’ll waltz into the White House for a second term, and we’ll never get his kind out of power.’
‘Christ!’ Mabus punches the closest wall, then rubs his knuckles as he collapses into an easy chair. ‘So? What do we do?’
‘Only one thing to do, we get rid of this Vazquez woman before the public finds out she’s pregnant. I’ve already got my sources working on finding her. Fortunately, Homeland Security’s overseeing her case, so it should be relatively easy to get to her.’
‘Do it. Spare no expense. I want that bitch and her demon seed dead by the weekend.’
2
JANUARY 25, 2013: ST. AUGUSTINE, FLORIDA
‘Attention. Lead vehicle now approaching final destination. Have a nice day.’
The sound of the Jeep’s autopilot awakens Dominique. She stretches, inclines her seat, then glances at the digital clock.
Seven-thirty. I’ve been asleep for two hours.
Evelyn Strongin’s black Toyota is three
‘That crock about a race of superior humans building the pyramids? Please.’ Mabus leans forward, his eyebrows knitting. ‘Let me tell you something about this Michael Gabriel. I’ve spoken with many clergymen who are absolutely convinced he was the Antichrist.’
‘Mr. Mabus, by every account, Michael Gabriel died a hero.’
‘According to who? The government responsible for nearly getting us nuked? It’s well documented that Gabriel’s father, Julius, was a wacko, and so was Gabriel. He spent eleven years in a mental asylum for assaulting former Secretary of State Pierre Borgia. Does that sound like a hero to you? For all we know, Michael Gabriel may have been the one responsible for causing that alien to awaken in the first place. He did claim he had entered its vessel in the Gulf, right? He even said he was in communication with that demon.’
‘True, but—’
‘But nothing. We’ve all seen the footage. Gabriel entered the serpent’s mouth, and the two of them disappeared. Poof!’
‘What are you implying?’
‘Ain’t implying anything, I’m tellin’ you straight out that our Lord and Savior intervened at our darkest hour, sending Gabriel and his serpent back to Hell whence they came. Divine intervention, Richard, not some Mayan malarkey. Now humanity’s at a crossroads. We either learn from this brush with extinction and elect leaders who will help us become the God-fearing people Jesus always wanted us to be, or we stick our heads back in the guillotine and wait for the next Judgment Day.’
Peter Mabus signs three more autographs, then boards his private jet.
Campaign organizers line up to greet him in the aisle.
‘Beautiful job, Peter. The latest polls show us approaching 22 percent.’
‘The Dallas speech netted just under two million. Well done.’
‘Salt Lake City booked us for three more trips. The Mormons love you.’
Mabus acknowledges each assistant as he makes his way to his private office located in the rear of the 707 airbus.
An older, white-haired gentleman is waiting for him inside.
Mabus’s campaign manager, Texas billionaire Joseph H. Randolph, Sr., looks up from watching the CNN broadcast. ‘You did well on the family values crap, but you lost points when you labeled Gabriel the Antichrist. This campaign’s success may be fueled by a faith-based initiative, but the public still views Gabriel as a hero. In the end, his close ties to Chaney may be our undoing.’
‘Michael Gabriel will be old news by the 2015 New Hampshire primary.’
‘Maybe, but his child won’t be.’
‘His child?’
Randolph nods. Hands him the report.
Mabus scans the document, his blood pressure rising. ‘The Vazquez woman’s pregnant?’
‘Yes, and when the public finds out, and they will, they’ll flock to her like she’s the second coming of the Virgin Mary, her newborn worshiped like the baby Jesus. Chaney won’t even have to campaign, he’ll waltz into the White House for a second term, and we’ll never get his kind out of power.’
‘Christ!’ Mabus punches the closest wall, then rubs his knuckles as he collapses into an easy chair. ‘So? What do we do?’
‘Only one thing to do, we get rid of this Vazquez woman before the public finds out she’s pregnant. I’ve already got my sources working on finding her. Fortunately, Homeland Security’s overseeing her case, so it should be relatively easy to get to her.’
‘Do it. Spare no expense. I want that bitch and her demon seed dead by the weekend.’
2
JANUARY 25, 2013: ST. AUGUSTINE, FLORIDA
‘Attention. Lead vehicle now approaching final destination. Have a nice day.’
The sound of the Jeep’s autopilot awakens Dominique. She stretches, inclines her seat, then glances at the digital clock.
Seven-thirty. I’ve been asleep for two hours.
Evelyn Strongin’s black Toyota is three
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