Chapter 3: Going Places Above And Below

This is fiction. Any resemblance between the content of this story or any of the characters depicted herein and real persons or events is highly unlikely and purely coincidental.

"Billy, this is a disaster." The speaker looked out the limousine window at the World News Network studios, angry that he sat impotent on East 41st Street in New York while his daughter embarrassed him. "She's as useless as her mother was." He sat back into the engulfing backseat. "I never should have let her go to school or take that job in California."

"Reverend," his assistant, Billy Wesley, started a defense. "She did not expect to be forced to fill in for-"

"Do not make excuses." The reverend's voice growled with anger. "Her faith should have carried her through in that den of iniquity." He beat his chest with an open hand. "Where did I go wrong? Why must my child be so weak?"

Billy knew from experience that when Reverend Hayden Powers smote himself while calling upon God, wise men stayed silent. He admired the man he served. Every time the good reverend seemed to come out ahead, just like Job, the devil would attempt to strike him down. His wife had died. His son was disappeared. Now, his daughter had failed him.

Billy's phone rang. "Wesley here." He waited for a response. "Tony, Reverend Powers instructed you to return with his daughter, your fiancée." There is a short response. The reverend had selected Tony for Marsha due to the ease in manipulating the boy. "Then if they won't let you onto the set, wait by the door." 'Boy' was a very good description of Tony. Billy wondered if he would have to teach the boy what to do on his wedding night.

"What's the delay, Billy?" the reverend asked very calmly.

Being blunt and informative was the best course of action. "Tony is not being allowed entry onto the set. He cannot retrieve Marsha."

"I'm beginning to have doubts about whether my potential future son-in-law is strong enough to tame Marsha." The reverend turned again to look at the headquarters of the World News Network. After unclenching his fists, he sagged back down into the backseat. "Exactly when am I scheduled to address the Council?"

Billy checked the schedule on his iPhone. "The Evangelical Council of Christian Churches is expecting you at 3:45 PM. They are meeting in the Gold Room at the Javits Center. We are approximately 20 minutes away." The time on the iPhone was twelve twenty-three.

The reverend began to smooth his silk suit. "Marsha is my hope to find someone to carry on."

"What of Michael?" Billy regretted the question even as he uttered it.

The reverend glared at Billy. For a moment, Billy thought he saw regret in the other man's eyes. "He chose to defy me. Until the demons that possessed him are driven out, he cannot be my son." The reverend closed his eyes.

Billy's mistake had been trying to bring comfort to his mentor. Marsha was weak; Billy made a note on his iPhone to create a list of stronger personalities to replace Tony. He knew down deep that the reverend still loved his children. There was an email from the Madison River Sanatorium, containing a prognosis update on Michael's treatment. Billy could see that the reverend had read this email.

Tony wanted nothing more than to push this pretend policeman out of his way so he could grab Marsha. The last thing he wanted to do was appear weak in front of the reverend. His fiancée had put him in a difficult position. She had fallen for the same tricks that these Philistines used on countless others. Eventually, their charlatan antics would crumble and the truth would become known.

A ding signaled. The elevator down the hall from Tony opened its doors. Two men in tailored suits with their cell phones pinned to their ears emerged. Onlookers crowded down the hallway toward the studio. The suit in the lead took two steps, then stopped and uttered a command. "We need through."

That prompted the wannabe cops to act. "Move folks! Make a path! Make a path!"

Tony had stationed himself beside the door leading to the set. He was one of the few people who could not move. When the wannabes stepped forward to assist the suits, Tony experienced inspiration. Once the path was clear, but before the wannabes turned back toward him, Tony pushed the door open. He stepped through and to the left. Tony's hand was all that could be seen from the hallway while he held the door open.

Once the suits passed through the doorway, Tony let go of the door and followed them. As they wound their way along, everyone yielded and let them pass. He opened his cell phone and mimicked the two guys in the suits. Tony was wearing a suit also.

He followed them straight to the set. One of the suits went straight for Marsha and the Confederacy colonel who stood next to her. The pictures he had seen of these Confederacy Marines did nothing to prepare him for what they looked like in reality. Tony had worked with a few born-again professional wrestlers the previous summer. This colonel would dwarf them.

The colonel raised his index finger and shook it back and forth in front of the suit. What happened next surprised Tony. When the colonel tried to sidestep the suit, the man put his hand up to stop the colonel. Tony moved closer to see what would happen.

"Did you ever read Marvel Comics when you were growing up?" the colonel asked the suit.

The suit did not answer the question. "There are details that need to be worked out before you leave." The term zealot popped into Tony's mind. He had to admit the suit appeared determined.

"I could spell out a quote for you." Stepping to his right the colonel tried to maneuver himself and Marsha around the suit. Once again, the suit stepped in front of them in an attempt to impede the colonel. The huge man spoke a series of nonsense letters. "S-N-I-K-T."

The speed at which the suit moved his hand back impressed Tony. What the word meant, he had no idea. He looked at the suit who now acted even more animated than when on the phone. Tony turned to look at where Marsha had been. She was not there. Looking down the hallway, he noticed Marsha was being escorted away by the colonel.

"Stop!" Tony cried. "Stop!"

Marsha looked back. When she stopped walking, her companion turned with her to face Tony. While striding to where they stood, Tony fed his bravado with the flames of righteous condemnation.

"Take your hands off my fiancée." The colonel's response to Tony's demand was for the colonel to place his free hand softly onto Marsha's hand, which was in the crook of his other arm.

"Tony," Marsha said, her voice full of resolve, "I have decided that I am going to take a CAP test. Philip is my escort to the testing center." Marsha started to turn away from Tony.

"Do not turn your back on me." Tony raised his voice and spoke with all his authority. Marsha seemed to waver but never stopped. They started walking away. "As I am your future husband, you must obey me."

The colonel stopped. He turned and looked at Tony. "I will make one comment." He moved to stand between Tony and Marsha. "The lady has made her decision. Since she's over the age of eighteen and we are in the state of New York, your demands are pointless." He locked eyes with Tony. Tony looked away. "Good afternoon sir."

Marsha walked away with the colonel. Tony's blood began to boil. It wasn't until they were two cross-hallways down that Tony made his decision. "Jezebel! Though you are acting the harlot, I will still take you back with me." Tony charged the pair.

He charged across the first cross-hallway. He almost knocked over some idiot in his way. Sprinting for all he was worth, he approached the second cross-hallway. A large brown wall suddenly filled his vision field. He smashed into it and fell back flat.

Technical Specialist Corporal Schmidt knelt down next to the crumpled figure in the hallway. He had admired the AI's sense of timing. He used his concealed palm stunner to make sure this guy did not follow the colonel. Several other people came running up. Corporal Schmidt never smiled, but he knew that the accident that just happened was caught on three different security cameras.

"Is he okay?" A security guard was checking the man's pulse.

Corporal Schmidt looked up at the growing crowd. "He was running down the hall. I didn't see him." Corporal Schmidt tapped the side of the brown valise. "This thing weighs two hundred pounds and I top the scales at two forty." Corporal Schmidt was satisfied with the care the downed man was receiving. He offered an observation. "He seems to be breathing."

"He has a pulse and is breathing," the security guard said as he patted both sides of the man's face. "He is not responding." He grabbed the mic attached to his radio pack. "I need someone from First Aid. I'm on Floor One, Set Three, at the intersection of the central hallway and the associate producers' office hallway."

Corporal Schmidt slid out of the way, allowing access to the first aid brigade. With everyone paying attention to the stunned man, he walked out the exit. In just a few moments, he would cross over to 42nd Street and transport back to the base.

Adelaide Schein heard the phone ringing. It obviously belonged to the unconscious man who Security and First Aid were treating. She picked up the phone and answered it. "Hello," she said, pausing.

"Tony?" She did not recognize the voice.

"I'm sorry but I think Tony has been rendered unconscious," Adelaide responded. "I think they're going to take him to the hospital."

The voice on the other end asked a question. "Is his fiancée Marsha Powers there?"

"Ms. Powers walked out the north entrance with that yummy colonel from the Confederacy." Adelaide had watched how the two had reacted to each other during the entire show. "She told the unconscious guy that the colonel was taking her over to take a CAP test." She wasn't going to tell this guy on the phone, but as far she could tell, Marsha had somebody new. The beeping sound signified that whoever was on the other end had hung up.

Two paramedics were wheeling a stretcher down the hall. Adelaide pressed the power button and turned the phone off. It took a few minutes to get the man stable and attached to a backboard before they placed him on the stretcher. As they started to wheel him away, Adelaide stepped forward.

"This is his phone." She put the phone into one of his pockets. Then she watched them roll him toward the exit.

The Reverend R. Hayden Powers felt both of his temples throb. Of all the days for this to happen, why today? Nothing was going the way it should. If this got out, it would ruin his chance for controlling the interfaith response to the Confederacy. The reverend had to think. Billy had ordered the limo to rush to the nearby testing center. The reverend began to formulate contingencies.

The car came to a sudden stop. Reverend Powers looked at the testing center. It was in a ground floor corner shop. Letting himself out of the limo, he strode to the door. Billy was right behind him.

"Reverend, are you sure you want to go in there?" Billy inquired.

Reverend Powers opened the door. Turning, he made a declaration. "I shall be like Daniel." Then he stepped inside. He walked up to the counter. A very tall woman waited there for him. "I have come to retrieve my daughter."

"Is your daughter fourteen or older?" Her voice was pleasant and non-combative.

"The age of my daughter is irrelevant." The reverend leaned toward the woman. "She does not have my permission to engage in this farce."

"Please give me her name?"

"My daughter is Marsha Powers."

"Sir," the woman said, her voice remained calm, "you do not have the right to stop or interfere with her testing."

"As her father, I possess a divine right to instruct my daughter what to do until the day I give her to her husband." The reverend's face had turned bright red.

"In this building, you do not have the authority to exercise - any - such - rights." The woman emphasized the last three words.

"Trollop, just because you spread your legs for any male who passes by," the reverend shouted, "does not allow you to defy a man of God. Do as you are told, woman!"

The woman stood up; she took two steps and peered down the hallway. "Pete, if this one here decides to test, put me down for a six-pack on a score of 'not-above-three'." She returned to where she was. "As you can see, all you have managed to do is make yourself red in the face."

The reverend stood up straight and raised his right hand, "Harlot!" The hand started to descend.

The woman's left hand shot forward like a rattlesnake. It connected with the reverend's right shoulder joint. That knocked him back into Billy. Together they ended up sprawled on the floor. She stood up and came out from behind the counter. With one hand, she grabbed the reverend by his belt near the seat of his pants. She lifted the man and carried him behind the counter, down the hall, and into the first room.

By the time she returned, Billy had taken a seat in the waiting room. About fifteen people had witnessed the exchange.

"I'm sorry folks. Sometimes emotions can run a little high." She picked up a clipboard from behind the counter. "Aimed Ali," she looked up into the waiting room. A young man who looked Persian raised his hand. She motioned for Aimed to come up to the counter. He walked over to where she was. "Down the hall, testing room seven, good luck."

Marsha woke up to find Philip still in the room with her. He was holding her CAP card. Tentatively she took it from him. She saw the number 5.9. A wave of relief washed over her. Marsha knew she could never be a warrior. It was then that grief flooded in and almost overwhelmed her.

"I guess this means I have to try and find a pickup." Admitting that pushed the grief down. Where this newfound strength to choose arose from, she didn't know. Exercising it did make her feel more whole. "Part of me wishes that I could have volunteered and worked with you." Tears began clouding her vision.

Philip reached out and lifted her chin. "I can arrange for us to work together." He looked into her eyes. "The rules of testing state that every year a person can retest. My concubine Tonya retested at 6.7 last Wednesday." He smiled at Marsha. "If you want, you can take her place."