Episode Eight: The Conclusion continued
Then a gunshot and Vendhem screeched in pain. Blood spurted out in a stream, cascading to the dust in an arch that was surprisingly perfect in its geometrical form. But the evil German was not to be stopped by one bullet. As if propelled from within like a robot, Vendhem advanced. His only purpose was to take this Greek with him to hell.
Pat was closer now, more focused as he sought to distract Vendhem, screaming at the top of his lungs, "you're not worthy to wear the mantle of satan. You're weak. Just an old man who's dyin'. It's over Vendhem!" With that he raised the gun once more from his prone position and fired the last bullet. He was out of ammo. The shell penetrated the black heart of this evil prelate and the scream of defeat escaped with the stench of putrid air and death coming from the body that had once been covered in the garments of a holy man. The apostate had sold his soul, now it was time for the devil to collect.
Vendhem clutched the air as if to grasp one final moment of light before the darkness descended forever. Then he plunged forward, dead at the Greek's feet.
It was over. The Master had been denied a living host. His time had passed. Niki, seemingly too tired to move, looked down to where Corrie was helping a stunned Patrick to his feet. Pat surveyed the shriveled carcass of what had once been the mighty mogul of the Metropolitan Mirror. Oh, for a photo shot now. What a front page headline. Would they believe it back home? The adrenaline of accomplishment raced through him as he hobbled up the hill toward Niki, standing shakily over the body of Vendhem. That gave Pat all the momentum he needed to move as he bounded with difficulty up the hill, making sure that Vendhem was really dead, clutching Niki about the shoulders.
"We did it, Nik," Pat emoted hysterically, "It's really over! Do you realize that? The Antichrist is dead. Dead! Thank God. I had no bullets left."
"I know," Andriopoulos smiled weakly, almost in shock, "We have given the moment and the world back to God. But I do not think I shall ever forget this day or the last few as long as I live."
Pat hugged Corrie closely as both leaned on each other for support. "You can say that again," Pat sighed to which Corrie added, "we'll never forget."
"Come, my friends. It's bad. But time will heal the memories. And you have Corrie, too, don't forget," Niki prompted his weary friend. "First we must get medical help for Corrie. She needs immediate care. Thank God, Ogidi is here."
Niki turned toward Makuta on the ground facing away from the eastern sun. The body didn't move. Niki feared the worse. "My God, Makuta, are you alright?"
His fears were allayed momentarily when he saw the African nod affirmatively. Niki showed concern as he moved closer to Ogidi. "Makuta, you are too solemn. Is it not an occasion for rejoicing?"
There was no gesture of affirmation. Pat edged nearer to him. "Dr. Ogidi, it's over. Did ya hear me? Corrie needs help."
Makuta rose to his feet, his back still to them. "Oh, yes, I heard you," acknowledged the Doctor.
"It's really over, Makuta. We've won," rejoiced Pat. "By a miracle, I know. But we won. Part of the Vatican's gone, but that can be rebuilt. After all Rome wasn't built in a day. C'mon, Doctor, we've won."
Ogidi turned very slowly, very deliberately towards them; his face coming from the darkness of the lingering night shadows into the powerful light of the dawning sun, which was just above the rim of the hills in the distance. Its angle cast a perfect glow off Ogidi's face, preventing the three from getting a clear view.
"No, my foolish comrades," Ogidi laughed mockingly, "you have not!"
"Is he okay?" Corrie asked, not realizing what was happening.
It was then that they saw the eyes of molten lava. It was too late as Ogidi seemed to have the upper hand. "There was no way they could injure me. Gallagher, Andriopoulos. You have always known that. But you would never admit it. Never look beyond the obvious. That was my tool, my weapon against the likes of you. You trusted, you believed, you accepted me for what you wanted me to be, not what I am."
Ogidi strut his face into the light, "I am," he repeated, tossing his head back down to the normal level, the sunlight now forming streaks of alternating shadow and light. And in the pattern both Niki and Pat saw what they feared the most: the true evil eyes of the Antichrist, those glowing orbs of Black Fire, from which leaped red flames that consumed and devoured all within its path.
Pat stepped back, pushing Niki behind him and pulling Corrie with him. "Oh, God, it's you. It's always been you!"
"Of course," taunted the African. "And now you begin to see how cleverly I used you, how I used all those devoted disciples who never had a chance, who were never worth more to me than the moment they served. They all destroyed themselves by their ineptness, their boundless pride, greed, avarice. I know those emotions so much better than they, do you not agree? I would never let anyone take those possessions away from me. They are my greatest source of comfort."
"How could you betray us?" Niki demanded in lament. "I trusted you."
"Am I to commend or denounce you?" Ogidi flaunted.
Niki tried to respond. He couldn't. What was the point now?
"You do not question. Good," continued Makuta. "It is beyond that now, as you will agree. You have fought a valiant battle, but face it, my misguided friends. You have lost. And now, I have no need for any of you to remain here to see my kingdom thrive. And it will. Oh, will it! This moment has been destined from all eternity. I have made my mark upon the world, and it will grow until the entire universe belongs to me. You may think of that during your own eternity of blackness, for you are mine now to do with as I want."
"Never," Gallagher cried out defiantly, backing away another step while Niki stealthily reached beneath his belt, the secret pocket attached inside the leather and drew forth something circular, rimmed in gold. The small ciborium pyx. The priest shoved Pat out of the way as he tried to unlatch it to expose it for Ogidi to gaze upon - to be paralyzed by the miraculous brilliance of It.
But Ogidi knew. In a flash he swiped at Niki's right arm, sending the golden orb sailing like a miniature Frisbee to the other side of the hill. With such power he roared, "I AM THE MASTER!!!" He was transforming into Satan itself. The host was receptive to the reptile. The Basilisk was more powerful than ever with all the powers of hell pushing him on. Pat, Niki and Corrie cowered under Ogidi's glare as he roared again, "I AM THE MASTER!!!"
"Don't look at its eyes," Niki cautioned with all urgency as the beast became more hideous than any of its predecessors this day.
While Ogidi's heinous laughter cackled over the Field of Death, a short ways near the base of the eastern hill, a rough hewn hand reached down, retrieving the ciborium pyx that had been so unceremoniously flung from Niki's consecrated hands. The man unclasped it revealing the Host which Pat had not received: the consecrated Body of Jesus Christ confected in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass Niki had said in the turret room the day before for Pope Clement XV - the Holy Father's final Mass. Free of the golden container, the Host was now visible inside the crystal ciborium. The Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of Jesus Christ 0 the heart and soul of the Church.
As he slowly, carefully and silently ascended the hill on the eastern side, the man could hear Ogidi bellowing just 40 feet away. "Bow down and serve me. I am the power. I am your God now."
"I think not!" the voice boomed forth from the East. Twenty feet away stood the silhouette of a man whose voice sounded familiar. It couldn't be. He held the crystal pyx high above his heads aimed at the Basilisk. "By the powers invested in me, I say: BEGONE, SATAN!"
The morning rays reflected off the crystal pyx containing the Sacred Host. A spectrum of beams shot forth directly at the beast formerly known as Ogidi. As the sun climbed higher and the mysterious figure moved closer all knew who he was.
"FASIF!" Niki shouted in glee, "You are alive!"
"Thank God for miracles," Pat clamored. "We need one right now."
Enraged, Ogidi momentarily forgot the three and centered his attention on confronting Khadid, who was truly alive in the flesh. Ogidi, his hands and skin now transforming to claws and scales, lunged at Fasif. But the clever Cardinal sidestepped the fallen reptile just in time and held out the only weapon that would destroy the Master of the underworld: the very presence of God Himself in the Blessed Sacrament.
Ogidi was struck as if by a bolt of lighting at the sight of the Host. He could feel God's presence and he shrank from such awe. The Devil knew he was weaker in the Almighty's immediate company.
Gallagher and Morelli watched, stupefied by the events going on and then realized as he flung his gun away from him into the dust that the real weapon they'd always needed and had all the time was now being used by a man most worthy to save the world from the powers and principalities of hell.
Fasif lifted the Host higher, within the crystal, until the angle of the morning sun prismed off the center of the crystal pyx. The light emanated out, filling the Field of Death with a Heavenly glow that spoke of hope, joy, love and mercy in its every touch. For Ogidi it was quite the opposite. Step by step Fasif began to back the Basilisk toward the far side of the hill. The true Basilisk, the Master, Lucifer himself could not break the holy spell. He could not avert his evil eyes from the glowing orb which effervesced with the essence of the Truth, the Way and the Life Itself.
The sunlight seemed to erupt into rainbows that sped across the Field of Death, and where they touched there was no longer dust and rubble, but green grass and flowers began to sprout up as if they'd been nourished there and only dormant for a long, long time.
Inch by inch, Ogidi backed away as the light of the crystal ciborium containing the Sacred Host grew with such intensity that those caught within it were nearly lost to the sight of one another. It consumed, but at the same time it restored life. It altered, transformed, but took the humanity of the individual and made it what it had always been in the eyes of God - a reflection of the man made in God's image. It uplifted, renewed, revitalized, replaced sorrow with joy, healed hurts, sorrows and physical injuries that were beyond any earthly means of instant repair.
Fasif was determined that God would win. For all that the Almighty had permitted from the time the first parents were banished from this place, It was now the Almighty's ordaining will for this moment to occur. It had always been ordained thus.
When Ogidi could retreat no further except to the edge of the western edge of the hill, the beast tried to cover his lidless eyes with his scaly claws. But they were paralyzed by his side as Cardinal Fasif Khadid reverently removed the Host from the crystal pyx and held the Host aloft - the light within its very core beginning to pulsate.
Fasif vocalized in a forceful, booming voice, "By the Power of God, cast into hell Satan and all the evil spirits, who prowl this earth seeking the ruin of souls."
Then there emerged a sound. At first it seemed the whisper of bells, of chimes in the far distance. A lyre or a harp in the evening sunset. And then the pleasant sounds merged and became a Voice that was filled with authoritative melody; a Voice, which Pat, Niki and Corrie marveled at, for it was of a Child. And the Voice spoke directly to Ogidi, who seemed to shrink in upon himself as the words touched him. "I Am," transmitted the Voice in an audible whisper. "Always and forever. The Alpha and the Omega. Begone, Satan! Back into the chains of hell where you will be bound for at least a thousand years. May this now be a time of peace where the devil no longer freely roams this earth, no longer seeks to destroy My children. I am their Protector. I am their God. I AM!"
Pure light strobes poured from the Host towards Ogidi then refracted outward to all corners of the Field of Death. The beast collapsed to its knees, the splendid light from the Host cascading over him, washing him, but defeating him at the same time. The purity of the light Ogidi could not tolerate. Were he merely a man, Makuta might have had a chance for repentance. Such is the Divine Mercy extended by Our Lord. But he had already had his chance and said no. "Non serviam." With each strobe the hideous beast shrank, melting in upon itself, as it were, until it was a tiny speck upon the earth. Where the transformed Ogidi lay writhing there was no grass or wildflowers, only the barren tundra covered with the dust and rubble of the previous destruction.
Realizing triumph, Niki, Pat and Corrie quickly appeared by Fasif's side, watching in utter amazement as Ogidi dwindled before their very eyes. And then, suddenly, as if in final protest to the brilliant illumination that was streaked with gold and silver, and strung together with the immaculate blue of a perfect sky, there was a violent trembling of the earth where the shrunken Ogidi remained. Then a sudden flash of fire - Black Fire! When the fire and black smoke settled, there was no longer any semblance of Ogidi to be found. Instead, on that very spot, lie a lizard - a lizard that darted its tongue and its eyes flashed about in anger, as it tried to slither away.
Immediately Niki picked up a fairly heavy rock from the ground and brought it crashing down with a sickening thud on the reptile's head. As he hurtled it downward, Fasif lifted his voice and cried out, "Upon this rock I will build My Church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it."
As they looked up in relief, all realized it was no longer the Field of Death. Now as far as the eye could see was a lush verdant carpet of green dotted with magnificent colorful flowers and trees of every kind providing shade as the birds of the air alighted on its branches. Truly Pat, Corrie, Niki and Fasif were looking at and standing in the center of the Garden of Eden.
Corrie's eyes were wet, her cheeks awash with tears of joy, as were Niki's and Pat's as well. Very carefully Fasif, with his forefingers and thumbs broke the Sacred Host into four pieces, as the other three dropped to their knees.
Pat looked up embarrassed, "Niki, I can't. Still haven't been to confession."
"Me either," admitted Corrie. "It's been years."
"I know," Fasif assuaged, "but I also have been shown their hearts, Nikolas." Turning to the couple, Fasif smiled. "Patrick, Corrine, Ego te absolvo, in nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen. Go and sin no more."
They each made the sign of the cross as Fasif placed the broken Hosts on Pat's tongue, "Corpus Domini nostri Jesu Christi custodiat animam tuam in vitam aeternam. Amen." He then repeated the same with Corrie and Niki.
After a short time of silent prayer, Niki could no longer contain his inquisitiveness. "You know about the explosions at the Vatican and that Pope Clement has truly died?"
"Sadly, yes, my friends," Fasif was solemn. "There has been too much destruction, the countless millions, my beloved sister Helene, my dear niece Karel, my faithful Elias and then Victor, poor Victor. Many had to sacrifice their lives to overcome this hideous scourge of the Basiliscos. Yes, my friends, God does allow evil for good."
"But the good guys finally won!" Pat gushed.
"And you, my American friends," Fasif embraced Pat in one arm and Corrie in the other, "are truly good guys! Indeed, Father Niki, you are truly a judge of good character."
"Well, these characters want to ask a favor, your Eminence," Niki sheepishly grinned.
"Your wish is our pleasure if it is reasonable," smiled Cardinal Khadid.
"Will you marry us, your Eminence," Pat asked, beaming at Corrie. It was then that he realized all her bruises, scratches, cuts and splint, the dirt and grime had been eliminated. Peering back at him Corrie saw the same thing. All three had been healed of any physical hurts, had been given renewed strength. The fatigue, the aches and pains gone.
"I am honored," Fasif conceded, "but what about Father Niki?"
"You mean 'Cardinal Niki'," Pat piped up.
"Of course, and well deserved," agreed Fasif.
"Besides, Fr. Niki is going to be our Best Man, your Eminence," added Corrie, "and Sister Bridie our Maid of Honor."
"A better entourage I cannot think of," beamed Fasif. "You have your minds made up so how can I resist."
They both unabashedly hugged the Prince of the Church as Niki interrupted the embrace. "We thought you had died. We had no hope until the Holy Father's statement. But even then we still thought you were dead."
"Ah yes," Fasif cleared his throat. It was time to explain. "I phoned Gregory Zachmunn from a secret place after my house was bombed. I had a premonition something was not right so I watched from the hills. My heart bled for Elias, but there was no way to warn him, nor reach you, Nikolas, without being detected. I prayed you would get away and indeed you did."
"Yes, right into the path of Ogidi," Niki winced while winking at Pat.
"Yes, that was one I had very little knowledge of," admitted Fasif. "I kept in contact with Vic and Gregory until I talked with Ben yesterday and Gregory late last night. We all assumed you were returning here, so I hid near here figuring eventually the Basilisk would truly reveal itself."
"Then if you knew we were here all along," Pat puzzled, "why didn't you free us then?"
"First of all, I did not know exactly where you were. Neither did Gregory or Stephen. It was not until a few hours ago when a chap named Fenton -"
"Then Derrick did make contact," rejoiced Pat.
"Yes, I believe that is his name, he explained what happened and where exactly you were. That allowed me to watch nearby without being seen. It was better that no one knew I was still alive. For, indeed, I, too, did not know who the real host for the Master Basilisk was. All four men were capable. Blessed are they who watch and wait."
"For the devil to tip his hand last," Niki chipped in.
"Amen," concluded Fasif, "And now, my friends, our friend Mr. Fenton has a plane waiting for us near Basra. I do believe," Cardinal Khadid nodded toward Blix's empty limo to the northwest a hundred feet away from them, "that vehicle will convey us swiftly and safely there. Well, my friends, what are we waiting for? We have a wedding, a consistory, and a conclave awaiting in Rome."
"I think we have seen enough black fire for awhile," Niki emphasized.
"Now we await the white smoke and a new Pope," Pat encouraged.
"Ah, yes," agreed Cardinal Fasif. "It is time to rebuild His Church. Let us begin."
Those were the last words spoken on this field, now restored to the way it was eons ago in the Garden of Paradise. No remnants remained from the ghastly events that occurred on this Field just one short week ago. The Field of Death had become the living, breathing Field of Life. Yes, now it was a great garden once again. As the four walked off silhouetted by the rising sun stretching toward the sky, they wondered what the rest of the world looked like this day.
Seven grueling, unbelievable days had come to an end. These four as well as others who had been loyal to the resistance had seen, experienced, and tasted the power of God and His adversary. Their lives would never be the same, nor would the world's for evil had been subdued and a new era had emerged. An era of a thousand years of peace - the age of the Sanctifier had begun.
The four of them approached the car silently, arm in arm. The sunlight danced joyfully from behind the distant hills, capturing the beauty of this place. The indescribable magnificent white light from the Host had now dissipated in the daylight as mist curled up and drifted Heavenward when touched by morning's warmth.
Fasif, Niki, Pat and Corrie looked back only once as they entered the limo. As the white light diffused, it appeared to them as if white smoke ascended ever so regally, announcing to all the world from henceforth and to all the Reign of Jesus Christ.
It's doubtful they noticed this fine mist forming a plume wafting above a particular apple tree not far from where they had triumphed, ushering in the Triumph of the Immaculate Heart of Mary as promised at Fatima in 1917 for the woman of Genesis 3: 15 and Apocalypse 12: 1 had delivered as promised; the serpent would disturb no more. As they drove away with Pat behind the wheel, in the hearts of each was the silent prayer, 'Come, Holy Ghost, fill the hearts of the faithful. Enkindle in them the fire of Thy love. Send forth Thy Spirit and they shall be created and Thou shalt renew the face of the earth.'
At last, peace had been achieved.
FINIS
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