The Veritas Conflict (71 page)

She was still sitting up, testing the strength of her binding?, when the door opened and Anton Pike walked in. She raided the bed rails as she looked up at him. I’m guessing this room isn’t frequented by voluntary guests.”

“Untrue, my dear Claire. It’s quite helpful to have a place to catnap on long flights.”

“Don’t call me your dear Claire. I’m a child of almighty God. And
you
are being used by Satan.”

“I will call you anything I please, my dear.” He reached out, lacing his fingers through her hair.

She stiffened, her heart pounding again. Were they intending more than just murder?

With a swift move, he clenched his fist in her hair, pulling her head back so that she stared up into his face. She could feel his warm breath.

“It’s really too bad that our sacred purpose prevents me from taking full advantage of your … situation, my dear. The most pleasing sacrifices are pure.”

He shoved her back down to the bed and released his hold. Then he was out the door. It closed behind him with a click.

Claire buried her fece in the sheet, shaking anew, trying to pray. Sacrifices! Sacred purpose! Tears again burned her eyes as she whispered to the wall. “God, save me! Don’t let me be used for Satan’s purposes!”

Her racing thoughts stilled again. Better to die trying to escape than be sacrificed to Satan.

You are MY vessel, child. And I am with you
.

She gasped, grasping for the tender touch, holding tightly to His presence. No matter what happened, Satan would not get the glory from it.

The pitch of the plane grew steep, and soon she could feel the wheels touching down. The plane taxied for several minutes, then stopped.

Within moments, one of the men was standing by her side untying her bonds. He
stepped back. His voice was pleasant as he crossed his arms. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Which’ll it be?”

Claire stood up, a bit unsteady on her feet. She walked out the door, leaning on the wall from time to time. She walked through a luxurious cabin, eyeing leather-covered seats, tables, even a good-sized television set.

By the time she reached the door, her equilibrium had come back. She looked out the hatch. The plane was parked inside a large hangar. The hangar door was half open, and she could see distant figures—workmen, other travelers—walking around in the twilight.

The large man’s partner—the one in the blue coat—was positioned at the bottom of the stairs, eyes watchful. A limousine sat not far away. There was no sign of Anton Pike or the pilots.

She walked down the stairs with shaky steps, wanting both men to think she was less steady than she was. The man by the stairs had his hands in his pockets against the cold; the one behind her hadn’t climbed down yet.

At the next-to-last step she took a deep breath. Now or never. She bounded down the last two stairs and sprinted past the startled thug, heading for the open hangar door, shouting.

She watched several outside maintenance men turn their heads in her direction. Then … no! They were closing the door! She shouted for help as the door clanged shut, sealing out the light.

She turned, halfway to the door, panting, looking for another way out. The big men hadn’t even run after her. She watched Anton get out of the limousine and say something curt to them. They nodded, and blue-coat jogged toward her.

Frantically, she ran toward the door again, eyes scanning for another exit. She heard the steps of the man behind her and started to whimper. “No …”

She sprinted around a few parked cars, spotting a small side door, but she didn’t get there. Blue-coat grabbed her from behind, pinning her to him, her arms tight across her chest.

Claire let her knees buckle. Startled, blue-coat released his grip as she fell to the floor. He cursed loudly as she scored a brutal kick to one knee and started to scramble away. She only got two feet before the other one arrived.

They carried her, kicking and screaming, back to the limousine. Blue-coat was limping, and when they got to the limo he nodded to his partner and they dropped her. She hit the ground hard, and blue-coat kicked her in the side.

“Enough.”

Anton Pike stood by the open limo door, a smile playing on his lips, looking down at her pitiful struggles to breathe. He made a gesture.

The man who had released her bonds in the airplane retied her wrists, this time in front. He pulled the bands tighter than before, whispering in her ear. “I guess you chose the hard way.”

He climbed in the back of the limo and hauled her in after him, dumping her on the floor. Anton climbed in after her, amused, and closed the door. Then he rolled down the window and looked at blue-coat, who was rubbing his knee and muttering under his breath.

“Go and apologize to the mechanics for our niece, who unfortunately suffered a seizure of some kind. If anyone asks questions, pay them off. Make sure they get the picture; there can be no more questions. Then get the bags and meet us at the house.”

Blue-coat nodded and turned away.

Edward looked carefully at every paper, asked a few more questions about the surface companies, then fell silent, praying. The fire popped in the background for several long minutes. Then Edward stirred.

“Why are you telling us this, young Stefan?” As Stefan opened his mouth, Edward leaned forward and looked him hard in the eyes. “The real reason.”

Stefan pursed his lips “I have to be honest with you. If it was just a matter of money, I’d have kept my mouth shut and enjoyed my life. But—” he hesitated, and Ian got the idea that he was struggling for words.

“But I don’t want to be a … pawn of Satan.” Stefan stood up and went to stand near the fire. “I know that Satan is real. I’ve seen the things he does. I’ve seen my family’s delight in it. But always … always something twists inside me when I’m asked to develop my powers, my knowledge of the black magic.”

“If you know Satan is real, do you know God is real?” Ian asked.

“Are you kidding? Of course I know God is real.”

“Then why won’t you accept Him?”

“There’s something … inside me … that is sickened at that thought.”

“Be careful saying that—”

“No.” Edward stood carefully to his feet. “That makes perfect sense. Satan has been invited into his family. Stefan, you need deliverance. Real deliverance from a curse that has spanned the generations. We don’t have much time, but this has to be done. And God has a purpose here.” He looked into Stefan’s eyes. “Are you willing?”

Stefan swayed, then leaned against the fireplace, gripping the mantelpiece hard. “Yes. Do it quickly, before I lose my resolve.”

It didn’t take long. They began to pray, and within moments Stefan was on the floor, writhing, his teeth clenched against the blasphemies that kept erupting from his
lips. The three Christians stood over him, laying hands on him, joining their experienced prayers with his feeble ones, casting out, binding, and sealing the work that had been done.

Ian’s eyes flickered to the doorway of the den. There were at least a dozen people in the foyer, their eyes earnest, some kneeling, some standing but all praying for this young man. Where had they come from?

In the end Stefan whimpered and let out a long sigh, then relaxed into the floor. After a time, he raised his head and sat up. He had a bemused smile on his face. “I feel … clean.” He pressed his hands to his body, the smile widening. His voice grew exultant. “For the first time in my life, I don’t have this dark
thing
hanging over me!”

“There’s only one problem, Stefan.” With great effort, Edward knelt in front of the young man. “You are now swept clean of something that has been hanging over you your whole life. But the Bible says that unless someone new comes and inhabits the empty house, Satan will come back stronger than before. You need to choose, Stefan, whom you will serve.”

Stefan sat back on his heels and took a deep breath. “I … I’m just not ready yet. I know everything you’ve told me is true. But I need a little time.”

“We don’t know how much time any of us have, young man. I pray you make your commitment before it’s too late.”

He made a move to get up, and all three people in the room jumped to help him. He stood to his feet and looked at Ian. “And now, I say we quickly call your friend D. J. Then we must seek God about Claire Rivers before it’s too late.”

D. J.’s voice, over the speakerphone in the center of the kitchen table, sounded dazed. He took down all the information and said he’d call back Within minutes, the phone rang.

“The cross-reference phone directory found the telephone number you have. It’s on the thirty-ninth floor of a building on Avenue of the Americas in midtown Manhattan, not far from our office.” He read them the street address. “Does that mean anything to you?”

“No.” Stefan shook his head. “But remember, I haven’t been all that involved in the business stuff yet. I haven’t even visited most of the business locations.”

“Wait!” Ian was shuffling through papers. “I thought I saw Avenue of the Americas … yes!” He held up the page of contact data for Johanna Godfrey. “This woman works for Helion Pharmaceuticals, and that’s the same address!”

There was a pause, and the sound of pages turning on the other end of the line, then D. J.’s voice again. “Good grief. You’re right. What does that mean? Could
the thirty-ninth floor be one of these coordinating offices you were talking about, Stefan?”

“I guess so. I don’t really know.”

D. J. paused, then spoke in a slow and deliberate tone. “If what you say is true, this isn’t just a matter for the Excellence Award. It’s a matter for the FBI, the Securities and Exchange Commission, and the government regulators. Gentlemen, thank you for passing all this information along. I’m sure our magazine will appreciate the scoop. I’ll keep you informed. Right now, I have to go give my bosses a heart attack.”

There was a click and he was gone.

Stefan was staring into the cup of coffee Kathryn had made for him. “So when can we talk about Claire?”

“Kathryn has notified the authorities of Claire’s abduction, but with everything else that is going on I don’t think we should rely solely on them.” Edward glanced over at Ian, that odd look again on his face. “I’ve been praying this whole time, and I believe I have some answers. But first, there’s something you need to know. Claire Rivers has a special heritage, a godly calling on her life that has been passed down for generations.”

“What do you mean?” Ian asked.

“I cannot explain in full, but it is enough for you to know that she is an extended member of our family.” Ian looked at Edward in shock as the old man continued. “In fact, so was Mansfield.”

Ian’s head swam as he watched Edward gesture toward Stefan. “In a way, Stefan and Claire both represent the current generations of a long struggle over this campus, a long conflict for the truth of God to prevail. Stefan is aware of his lineage; Claire is not—just as Mansfield was not until recently. Both Mansfield and Claire were placed here by the hand of God for a particular purpose. Mansfield fulfilled his calling. Now Claire must do the same.”

“But—but they have her!” Ian said. “And they’re going to kill her!”

“I believe that God will protect her. We—”

“Everyone keeps saying that, and it’s about to drive me crazy!” Ian stood up, his fists clenched. “They kidnapped her! Where was her protection then? Where was Mansfield’s protection, or the other students’?”

Edward rose unsteadily to his feet. He leaned on his cane and put his free hand on Ian’s arm. “We cannot know mysteries that are inherently unknowable. God has not given us that power, and for that I am grateful. It’s better simply to trust that, though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him.”

Ian’s eyes grew misty again, his voice dropping to a whisper. “How can you know that God will protect her? That she has a purpose here?”

Edward shuffled to the kitchen counter, where his Bible again lay in the dish rack. He found a passage and began to read.

“ ‘The men of the city said to Elisha, “Look, our lord, this town is well situated, as you can see, but the water is bad and the land is unproductive.” ’ ” His finger skipped a line. “ ‘Then he went out to the spring and threw the salt into it, saying, this is what the Lord says: I have healed this water.’ ”

Ian’s thoughts flickered to Mansfield’s strange dream, the hand of God dropping golden salt in a dark sea.

Edward was watching his face. He smiled slightly. “I believe God will use young Claire Rivers as His instrument to make the dark waters clear.”

Ian closed his eyes, his heart aching for her. “We have to get her back.”

A tall man with dark hair rose from his couch as Anton and his henchman escorted Claire through the door. She walked in quietly, her hands tied before her.

“Welcome, Claire Rivers.” The tall man inclined his head. “My name is Victor Pike, and I will be your host for the short time you are with us.”

Claire raised her chin. “Where am I?”

“On the island of Nantucket. A charming little island filled with people who know nothing of our purposes here.”

“What are those purposes?”

“Tsk, tsk.” Victor shook his head. “Not for your ears, my dear. It is enough for you to know that you now have a part to play.”

He turned and walked toward a door. Claire was prodded forward. Victor led the way through the door and down some steep stairs. Claire was grateful her hands were in front of her so she could grasp the stair rail from time to time.

A light was flicked on. Stone walls rose on either side of a narrow hallway. Claire shivered from more than cold. Victor led the way through another door, turning on all the lights.

Claire stepped into the room, and her skin crawled. A pentagram was carved into a long table in the center of the room. Claire glanced around. Wall hangings, pictures—a dark portrait of a woman seemed to leap out at her.

Victor stared at the portrait of the woman for a long moment. Anton came and stood beside him. Then they both turned and looked at Claire.

Victor walked toward her on soft feet, his eyes intent. She took a step back and bumped against the henchman standing behind her. He gripped her upper arms, holding her in place.