Previous Installments-
Part One
Prologue and Chapters I-X
Part Two
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Chapter XIII
Chapter XIV
Chapter XV
Chapter XVI
Chapter XVII
Chapter XVIII
Chapter XIX
Chapter XX
Chapter XXI
Chapter XXII
PartThree
Chapter XXIII
Chapter XXIV
Chapter XXV
Chapter XXVI
Chapter XXVII
Chapter XXVIII
Chapter XXIX
Chapter XXX
Chapter XXXI
Chapter XXXII
Chapter XXXIII
Chapter XXXIV
Chapter XXXV
Chapter XXXVII
Radu-Chapter XXXVII (A Novel by Patrick Kelley)
5 pages approximate
When Grace looked at herself in the mirror, the first time she was horrified. The second time, she was sickened. Then, she became angry. Finally, as she looked upon her bloated face, with the boils and the running blisters, pus draining from them as they itched and burned, she looked upon her reddened-grayish complexion with a sense of acceptance of the inevitable.
Then, although she could have never foreseen it, she gradually felt something that transcended mere acceptance. She felt a sense of amusement.
“Eddie, I look like an evil clown, don’t you think?”
Edward Akito smiled.
“It is only temporary, I assure you” he replied. “As soon as you have completed the birthing process, you will be your old self, only better than ever. You will see.”
He stepped up behind her and grasped her waist as he stood closely against her backside.
“I always was taken with you,” he said. “Even when you were a little girl, on that first night we met under such unfortunate circumstances. Unfortunately, my wife did not share my passion, or my enthusiasm. That I could forgive, or at least overlook. What I could never abide was her lack of humor and-well, grace-pun intentional, yet apt.”
“I am so sorry that she died the way you describe, though,” Grace said as she leaned backwards in his arms. “Mad cow disease would be a horrible thing for her or anyone to go through. It would be a terrible thing for you to go through her death in such a manner.”
“I always tried to warn her-‘do not eat the brains’,” he replied. “Alas, she would not listen. The hedonistic lifestyle we engaged in, however, does not lend itself easily to self-discipline. She had her tastes, and I had mine. I cannot fault her. What is that old saying? Oh, yes-‘there, but for the grace of God’-you know, your name does seem to lend itself to puns.
“Really, though, Grace, as magnanimous as it is of you to offer sympathy on my behalf, it is not necessary, nor is it warranted. While I tried to save you, she insisted you be eliminated. I tried to speak up for you. So did Mikhail, and so even did Nadia.”
“I still find that very difficult to believe,” Grace said. “I am sure you must be mistaken. Had they meant to protect me, surely Groznyy would have known, and yet Groznyy killed them and all the others girls and women in their charge.”
“Ah, but then again, Groznyy tried to save you, and yet you killed him, no?” Eddie pointed out as he led her toward the dinner table. She was stronger these last days of her pregnancy, and yet she was still weak. The infant to whom she was the host drained her energy and lowered her resistance to fatigue and to illnesses that ordinarily Grace could fight off with but the slightest effort. Now, she was weak and dizzy, and the walk from the living room to the dining area seemed to be more like a difficult though necessary pilgrimage.
“I was not myself when I murdered Groznyy,” she explained. “Seeing as to what I went through, surely you understand that.”
“I am not trying to engender sympathy for Karl Emile Groznyy,” Akito reassured her. “His reasons for wanting to save you were self-serving, and that is putting it kindly. He was weak. Yet, he saved you. You killed him not for the service he performed, but for the simple fact that somewhere deep inside you understood, even at such a young age, that he outlived his usefulness.
“As for the reason Mikhail and Nadia had to die, let us for now just say it was at the time deemed appropriate in order to protect those whose services were of greater value at the time. Phillip Khoska, in fact, agreed to this. Now, it would seem Mr. Khoska has outlived his own usefulness. That is the supreme irony, in that the man who imagined himself to be in charge of practically everything in the known universe, was in fact a mere pawn.”
They sat, and Grace sat in such a way as to be as relaxed as possible. Soon, he served her dinner. She looked upon the hot, steamy and dark colored liquid placed before her with a modicum of suspicion. Eddie smiled at her.
“Do not fear,” he said. “It is merely chicken broth. It is very good for you.”
She lapped it up quickly, and Eddie watched in approval. Her appetite was finally starting to return.
“I have something I wish to show you, back in the living room,” he told her as she finished the broth.
Once they arrived in front of the large plasma screen television that hung on the wall, Grace noted that she suddenly felt much better. Yet, she still felt some anxiety.
“Must Phelps die?”
Eddie looked at her strangely.
“You were quite fond of him, weren’t you?” he asked as he turned on the television by remote.
“He has been a good friend,” she replied. “If he has to die, I can not help but feel some degree of sadness and responsibility. Or-is he already dead?”
“He is alive for now,” Eddie responded. “If he lives-well, that is up to him, so stop worrying. It is his choice.”
Grace looked upon the television screen, where she saw an interview conducted by a Washington area television reporter, one attached to the D.C. bureau of Fox News. The subject of his interview was former Baltimore area politician Greg Morrison. Morrison seemed contrite, but Grace was not impressed.
“You really ‘pulled a number on him’, as they say,” Eddie noted. “He had to go to the hospital for observation, you know. The poor fellow nearly had a nervous breakdown. Of course, it worked out for the best. While there, his physician discovered his arteries so badly clogged, and his cholesterol so alarmingly high, he deemed it necessary to perform an emergency open-heart surgery. Not many people are aware that the poor fellow actually died on the operating table. Now, he sits there before you on this live television interview, the recipient of the newest state-of-the art pacemaker. He does look somewhat pale and weak, does he not? Well, of course he is yet recuperating. Nevertheless, he will be more than sufficiently healthy to appear before a joint session of Congress, where he will testify about the sex-slave and child pornography scourge of which he was such a vital and important part for such a long time.
“In fact, he is another who, like Groznyy, and like Phillip Khoska, had an unfortunately, shall we say, exaggerated sense of their importance.”
“You mean, you couldn’t get to him?” Grace asked suspiciously. “I find that very difficult to believe. Would it not be dangerous for him to testify? How can you allow this?”
Eddie looked at her with grim curiosity.
“You surprise me, Grace,” he said. “Would it surprise you to learn that the doctor who saw to the care and recovery of our good Mr. Morrison was none other than Doctor Frederick Sherman?”
Grace was stunned beyond words.
“That’s my doctor,” she said in amazement
“Indeed,” Akito replied. “He has taken quite good care of you, by the way-just as I intended. Of course, he was required to give you quite a wide berth. I didn’t want too many restrictions placed on you, and on your journey through life.”
Grace had no idea how to take all this information. It was more than she could reasonably process, and she had taught herself to be ready for any eventuality. Yet, she never suspected.
“I suppose you are going to tell me next you are responsible for the Seventeenth Pulse-for Toby, and for James Berry.”
“No, those were unforeseen occurrences,” Eddie explained. “You handled them quite well, by the way. In fact, they are now quite vital to our needs. People such as this are easily manipulated, of course. Who knows, perhaps they will continue to prove useful. I certainly hope so. It would be a shame to have to dispose them. David Chou, for another example, has also turned into an integral part of the project, as has Marty Evans. For that matter, Aleksandre Khoska, for all his sanctimonious hypocrisy, has proven most vital. And, of course, there is our good, dear Marlowe Krovell, the most important of all.”
“Then-you are the leader of all of this?” she asked.
“I would never be so bold as to go that far,” he answered. “That would be quite presumptuous of me. To be blunt, it would be a lie. I am, in fact, a mere soldier, so to speak. In time, all will be clear to you, Grace. For now, just sit back and watch. What you are about to see is a film about a pacemaker, one which is identical to the one now implanted within the personage of our poor, greatly maligned Mr. Morrison.”
“You know, I believe I shall pop some popcorn,” he added, almost as an afterthought.
He bounded up from the sofa and out of the room with a grace and dexterity that belied his more than forty years, as the television started to come into focus. As the image became clearer, Grace discovered it to be an outdoor scene, with what appeared to be a huge multi-story complex in the background. She realized she was looking not at some kind of documentary, as she had expected, but instead at some kind of live feed, from some undisclosed location. She could hear men talking in the background, with one voice predominant, as it seemed to call out some kind of code, consisting almost entirely of letters and numbers.
Something about the female voice seemed robotic as it droned in a monotone, very rarely interspacing the coded sequence with an actual word-what seemed in fact to be a Slavic word which, despite her familiarity with the language type, she yet could not translate, nor even identify. This continued at some length until Eddie returned with a large bowl full of steaming hot, buttered and salted popcorn.
“Perhaps you would like a soft drink?” he asked.
“I thought you said this was a film about pacemaker,” she reminded him. “What does that old complex have to do with it? Where is this anyway?”
“It’s an abandoned military facility, somewhere out in the desert of Nevada,” he replied. “It was at one time a top secret installation. Very few people know where it is. I do not even know its exact coordinates, to tell you the truth. One of the prototypes of the pacemaker is somewhere inside that largest building.”
Grace grabbed a handful of the popcorn as Eddie poured her an ice-filled glass of cola. She munched the treat hungrily, until suddenly, before her very eyes, the entire complex exploded. At first, a gigantic cloud of dust and smoke hid it from view, as the loud rumblings of the aftershock of the explosion seemed to shake the speakers of the television screen. Grace watched with mouth agape as the dust and smoke finally cleared, to reveal nothing but rubble. The implication was obvious, and unbelievable.
“You have got to be joking,” she said. “Are you telling me that something the size of a pacemaker-did that? I do not believe it. Nothing that small could be that powerful.”
Eddie smiled and paused the film with which he recorded the transmission. He then re-winded it.
“Watch very closely,” he said as. He stopped the film a few seconds prior to the moment of the blast. He then forwarded the film in slow motion.
What Grace saw next was even more unbelievable.
“Now do you see, my dear?”
Grace watched enthralled at the sight of the seven missiles that converged on the old, abandoned complex.
“I believe the colloquial name for those missiles are ‘daisy cutters’”, Eddie explained, as he flipped back over to a Fox News segment, a discussion of the up-and-coming Congressional testimony of Gregory Morrison. Greta Van Sustern, a network regular, was a guest on this particular show, and revealed what she described as a bombshell. Morrison had recently been the recipient of open-heart surgery and was the beneficiary of a new pacemaker. She also revealed that Congress had granted him immunity in return for his coming testimony before Congress.
“Immunity? Ha!” Eddie shouted with delight. “If they only knew!”
Grace was now feeling more anxious than ever. She knew something of monstrous proportions was about to unfold. Yet, even she could never have guessed the extent of the operation Eddie Akito and his organization were about to undertake. This, if true, was the biggest story of the century, perhaps of all time.
She looked over toward the mirror, and took note of the bags that gathered under her eyes, which were now a sickly green, but which glowed with a hideous light. Everything would soon end. It had advanced too far to stop, after all the years of careful planning and allowances for contingencies. The timetable was in place. Soon, the world would be in chaos. She wondered what it would be like, what the long-term consequences would be. She knew that, at this stage, nothing could prevent the coming apocalypse. She also knew that this was merely the beginning-a mere fleeting glimpse, a miniscule portion of what was to transpire.
She felt compelled to try to do something to prevent this travesty. She never understood this aspect of her personality, this maddening urge to do what most people would consider “the right thing”. If she could get to Phelps, could save him before it was too late, perhaps he could tell her what to do, and help her. He would know how to get the word out to the proper authorities. If not him, perhaps Cruiser Dietrich, with his contacts, could get word to them in time to avert this unmitigated criminal conspiracy-this crime against humanity.
All the same, she knew it would be a waste of time. The only person who could conceivably stop this madness was an old Orthodox Romanian Priest by the name of Aleksandre Khoska. Ironically, Grace understood that Khoska was the last person who would listen to her. Yet, he was her only hope-the worlds only hope. In some way she could never understand, Marlowe Krovell was the key. Without him, the entire plan would fall apart. Yet, Khoska was, in some way, the only person who could ever hope to stop him.
She felt herself growing sick, and turned towards Akito, who looked at her, wagging a finger.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” he said.
“What is wrong?” she asked as the room suddenly once more began spinning around.
“I think someone’s conscience is bothering her,” Eddie said with a smile. “That is all right. That is usually the last thing to go, not the first. Of course, yours has not been dead all this time, after all-merely sleeping. It is good we have been able to bring it to the surface. It is perhaps the one flaw in your personality, Grace dear, latent though it has been for all these years. Though its resurgence is unfortunate, we shall remedy that, of course. In fact, it is good that it happened now. We seem to have caught it, just in the nick of time.”
He advanced towards her carefully, and she wanted to run. Instead, as he got closer, Grace went limp. As she fell, she reached for the end table by where she stood, resulting in the bowl of popcorn flipping its contents, sending them flying into the air. Grace then collapsed with a thud to the floor. She then saw the smiling face of Eddie Akito, who was still speaking, loudly, though calmly, and yet now unintelligibly, as suddenly, the lights faded and the darkness engulfed her.
