Jones raised a hand as if to ward off the assault.
"No. No, Trevor was my friend. It was hard to do. I did it because one man can’t be that powerful, no matter how much he tried. So I believed in you; that you were different."
"You would have believed anything I told you as long as you could justify betraying your friend. And you know why, Dante?"
Evan stalked toward Jones who, in turn, retreated one step then another.
"In the old world you and Trevor were friends, yes. But you were the leader, weren't you? You had all the answers. He was your lackey. You told him the way of the world because Dante Jones knew it all. And Trevor listened. And he did what you said because you were the one in charge. You were the Alpha male and he followed your lead."
"We were friends! I did this for the people!"
Dante retreated against the wall; nowhere left to run.
"You did it for your ego! You couldn't stand being second fiddle to Dick Stone. You couldn't stand that he was the man with the answers; he was the man in charge and you were his lackey. He gave you the job in Internal Security like a Christmas gift so that his friend had something to do. You knew you were in over your head and you knew he knew it, too. And that's what bothered you. You were nothing in the new world and Trevor felt sorry for you; he fed you his table scraps so you wouldn't starve. Each year The Empire grew and each year you were more out of your league, but Trevor still supported you for no other reason than you were his friend!"
"That’s bull shit. I didn’t envy him. No one should have that power, not him, not you!"
Godfrey ignored any counter arguments and pushed on, "He scared you, too, didn’t he? You saw what he could do at places like New Winnabow and in California. Hell, you saw it back at Five Armies. How many Red Hands did he slaughter that day?"
"That’s the point, he was too powerful. He was-"
"He was leading the human race back from extinction and playing the hero. People called out his name. Trevor! Trevor! But you could only remember Richard Stone, the kid you took under your wing. But the tables turned, Dante. It's been eating at your ego for years."
"He was my friend. He stood up for me. I did this for the sake of our world."
"I just needed to give you a reason. Yes, to turn your anger into a righteous cause. And oh how you struggled with your conscience and you told yourself how noble you were to betray your best friend because it served the greater good. Oh Brutus, how you fooled yourself! Well now you have to live with it, Dante. I don't care what you tell yourself at night, but you belong to me, now. If word gets out of what we've done then yes, I am finished and what is left of humanity will fall apart in one great schism. But you, Dante, the lowest circles of Hell are reserved for those who betray friends. There will be no cleansing of your sins." Dante breathed hard but could not respond. Beads of sweat trickled along his cheeks. Evan's face turned from scowl into smile. "But it doesn't have to be that way. We’ve come this far, we need only go a little further." Jones shook his head and mumbled, "I didn’t want this…this isn’t how it was supposed to be."
"Nothing goes according to plan," Evan’s voice seemed almost fatherly as he adjusted his speech, his tone, his volume to accommodate the emotions of his audience.
"It's falling apart. Brewer…"
"Brewer is irrelevant. Without Trevor he is a ghost of his former self. Still, we must make a public show of things. Too many whispers and rumors are causing uncertainty. We must make a show of how well things are going. Yes, yes, I have an idea."
The President turned away from his beaten victim and spoke almost to himself, "I will hold a news conference here, at the White House. I will invite key Senators and-yes-several prominent military commanders. We will show unity. We will announce that the conspirators in this military-intelligence coup have been identified. With time, we'll get confessions. In the midst of the fear and commotion we will break the old-guard once and for all."
Dante shook his head either in disbelief or disgust.
Evan consulted his desk calendar: Friday, July 11 ^ th.
"I'll need a few days to put together a guest list and fly them in. I’ll need a good speech, too." His finger fell on Wednesday, July 16 ^ th. "Yes, Wednesday will work. That gives me enough time. Cheer up, Dante. Next week we're going to put an end to all this. Yes, in a few days this will be settled once and for all."
24. Infiltration
Gannon watched the Missionary Man savor the moment as he approached the child's holding cell. Red and yellow fibers stretched across the green skin-like door there. Monks armed with swords-more like sharp metal rods-stood guard to either side. Brad Gannon asked anxiously, "So, like, is everything ready and all? Can we off Stone?" "You will wait until I rip apart the boy's mind and present it as a gift to my Lord." Gannon huffed but his position allowed no room for bargaining.
The Missionary placed his hand on a soft brown patch in the wall and the membrane withdrew, opening to a pulsing chamber where an organic bench provided JB with a seat and a round orifice in the floor offered a means of waste disposal.
Jorge Benjamin Stone held half of a stale candy bar in his hand and a jug of water sat nearby. Bags of red skin surrounded his otherwise blue eyes in a sign of how little he had slept since his abduction. He still wore the black polo shirt and tan shorts his mother laid out for him two days ago, but those clothes had grown wrinkled and ragged.
A part of Gannon felt guilty for having delivered the boy to that place of evil. But Gannon long ago became proficient at hiding guilt in a dark closet at the back of his mind.
"Come out of there, child," the Missionary commanded.
JB moved slowly at first; another sign of fatigue. But he straightened, swallowed a deep breath of resolve, and exited the cell. Gannon saw the Missionary's smile of victory falter for a second, perhaps in surprise at the boy's fortitude. "Hey, sport," Gannon spoke in as friendly a tone as his limited acting skills could muster. Jorgie ignored Gannon and asked the Missionary, "What is going to happen to me?" The agent of Voggoth answered, "You're going to visit with your father." To Gannon's surprise, the boy showed no enthusiasm. No matter how young his age, apparently Jorge was no fool. JB told the Missionary man, "You should not be doing this."
As Voggoth's minion led them along a circular artery-like corridor lit by small glowing orbs he said, "I came looking for your mother many years ago; before she knew she carried you in her womb. Had I found you that first day this conflict would almost certainly have been settled quickly. Oh, how glorious that would have been."
Gannon asked, "What do you mean? You went looking for him?"
"Voggoth sent me to draw a blade across her throat."
Gannon wondered exactly how long the Missionary had served Voggoth.
In response to his captor’s revelation JB muttered, "I’ll remember that."
"As for your father, several of Voggoth's children were sent to greet him. I understand they found his parents, but of course he escaped."
"You should not be doing this," the boy repeated in a voice filled with a surprising tone of authority. "Your Master does not know."
"Quiet, child. You are a present to my Lord. After I break you apart I will take you to Voggoth when I make my pilgrimage. He will demonstrate to all the inferiority of your species and perhaps hasten final judgment upon your people. My reward will be great"
"You don't live," the boy said. "You are empty. This whole place is a big empty space that needs to be filled."
The kid’s words caused Gannon’s arms to bubble with goose bumps; he saw The Order in a similar vein as young Jorge. However, unlike Jorgie Brad Gannon chose to serve Voggoth in the name of self-preservation.