the Mather Odyssey

"What if she's lying, using you to infiltrate our defenses?" Tarig asked.

"She’s not. Hear her story. It is a tale of horror that even my mind...which has seen Stalin's bloody legacy...fails to comprehend. But, I believe her. If after hearing what I have to say, you do not believe, we will leave. Charlie will need help to stay alive, so I am going with her. One other thing, I would like what I say recorded, because should you not accept her story today, you will soon."

Tarig got up and went to a large credenza on the far wall. Opening a door, he flipped several switches. "Whatever you say will be recorded on video and CD.”

Tarig had learned the night he met the Russian in July that Demitri possessed a photographic mind. As he spoke, the older man paced the floor, opened the drapes and stared out at the gray dawn, quietly looked in on Charlie without faltering in his narrative. When, at last, he grew silent and took a seat to study Tarig, he appeared drained and to have aged ten years past his fifty five.

"She is a rabid beast with a thirst for blood, this woman who seeks to be Empress of all Earth," he concluded in a voice hoarse and devoid of feeling.

Every word the man had spoken had terrified Tarig. Every one validated the ominous passage that General Mark Johnson had circled in his Bible before dying with a bullet in the brain a mere ten days ago. The passage from Revelations told of a Whore of Babylon destroying the earth.

"Preliminary research indicates the Earth Control Foundation is behind this take over," he ventured hesitantly. "Emil Harper is chairman of the board."

"Do you know the names of the board members?" Demi asked.

"Not off hand. Their names are in the report I gave you in July."

Demitri reached for his briefcase and placed it on the coffee table. Unlocking it, he removed a heavy report and held it out.

"Third page, at the top. Read off the names."

Unsure of what he was getting at, Tarig opened to the financial report on the world's six largest conglomerates. He found his gaze fixed on the final name on the list. He cocked an eyebrow. "Charles Baker?"

"Charlene says the each board member has both a female and male persona. Charlene is Charles Baker. Emil Harper is Emilia Harker, the woman, who unless she is stopped, will become the next Vice President."

The mug in Tarig's hand clattered to the mahogany table. "Genna's mother is head of the ECF?"

Demitri's eyes narrowed. "I presume you mean Genna Mather. Her mother’s name is Emmy Loren Mather, or perhaps you know otherwise?"

Caught off guard by Demitri's unexpected announcement, Tarig knew he had given away the game. He said nothing, trying to think of a cover. For once, words failed him.

"Come, come, my Saudi friend," Demitri exclaimed wearily. "I have brought you irrefutable proof that Doctor Terzi's journal is not the ravings of a psychotic lunatic. Now, you can call in your experts and begin to fight this conspiracy in earnest before the entire world becomes a Marquis de Sade asylum. I ask such a small favor in return. The truth?"

Tarig couldn't stop a chuckle. "You've got be her brother. You even have her twisted sense of humor as well as her eyes and hair."

Now, he’d caught Demitri off guard. "Brother? I have no sister. Who is this she you speak of?" the Russian exploded.

"You tell me...if you can," Tarig said, meeting Demitri’s gaze straight on, daring him to read his mind. Violet eyes, so painfully like Genna's, held his for a moment then dropped. When Demitri said nothing, Tarig continued, "You were in Salem over the weekend researching the Mather family, weren't you? You came to D.C. to get a copy of Ben Mather's military record."

Demitri leaped to his feet. "You! You were following me?"

"Is someone following you, Demitri?" Tarig cocked a curious eyebrow and felt his eyes narrow.

Although the middle of August, the hurricane had turned the day chilly and damp. Going to the fireplace, Demitri stooped to light the logs that were already laid. Not until the flames were licking at the log hungrily did he turn.

"Kozlov. He will not willingly let me go, you know."

Ah now, the truth begins. "Because of your special skill?"

"Yes, my...ah...special skill," Demitri sighed.

"Your skill at reading minds," Tarig said quietly. The fencing match was over. "Yes, we suspected it after we first saw you in July. We requested information on Genna’s father, Ben Mather. We needed to know if he had been in Russia, or connected with a Russian woman."

"What did you learn?" Demitri asked.

"Only what you did. You already knew far more than Ben’s file told you.”

Demitri nodded. "As you know more...about my father’s daughter, my half-sister. About Genna Mather."

Tarig got to his feet. Yes, definitely, the time for  fencing was over. Going to the bar, he filled a cup with coffee and despite the early hour, laced it with brandy. He handed it to Demitri.

"Here, you may need this. Yes, I know far more about your half-sister, Genna Mather."

"Then, she also has my...ah.