Chapter 4

David awoke shortly before sunup. He had time he didn’t sleep so deeply. He got up and went to the bathroom, where he washed his face and brushed his teeth. A few minutes later he went down to the living room and found John sitting in front of the window with the shotgun resting on his thighs. He signaled him to be silent and invited him to look out the window. David immediately spotted a man standing at the end of the street and around the corner, seemingly waiting for something or someone.

“He arrived about twenty minutes ago,” John said. “He hasn’t done anything else.”

David looked at John, intrigued.

“And why do you think that is suspicious?”

“You didn’t finish listening to the conversation last night, son, and you don’t know that my friend and his son are in danger.”

“Danger? I only heard something related to an assignment and a DNA. Unless it has something to do with the mafia or something like that...”

“It's worse. I can only tell you that the child is not my friend’s son. It’s a clone, created by him.”

David made an effort to understand. John could see on his face that was confused.

“A clone?” He asked, finally. “I thought that thing couldn’t be done. A clone of whom? From himself?”

“A clone of Jesus.”

David pulled away a little from his side, surprised.

“It can’t be... It’s not possible. Are you sure? Isn’t it that your friend cheats on you?”

“I know it sounds impossible, son, but I have known Julius many years ago, and I have no reason to doubt every word he has said to me.”

“And are you willing to risk your life for him, and the child?”

John looked at David. Immediately and by his gaze David realized that he was willing to do so.

“So it isn’t true that child is a clone of Jesus, he’s a child anyway”, said John, “and no child deserves bad things to happen to him, don’t you think?”

David kept looking at him for a few seconds. Endless questions passed through his mind. Suddenly he remembered the boy's face when he looked at him at the table last night. He hadn’t realized until that moment, but a strange sensation ran through his body when he looked into his eyes, and paid no attention. Now that feeling was coming back, and he made a decision.

“Do you have any other weapons at home?” He asked.

John smiled barely, making a negative nod. David quickly went up to the room, took his bag and took out a commando knife, the only thing he had left of his service in the Special Forces. He spotted a white envelope at the bottom of the bag and looked at it for a few seconds, took it, folded it and put it in one of the back pockets of his pants, went down again and stood next to John again. After few minutes, John said, without taking his eyes off the street and that guy in the corner:

“When we learned that Robert had died in action I asked myself: why him? Why our Robert? He was not made to be military; since childhood he had always been frail and sickly, and I imagined him as one of those guys who instead of using his hands and body, used his head to defend himself in life and work. I imagined him on Wall Street or as an eminent scientist or professor in a prestigious institution. We were surprised by his decision to make a military career without even contemplating the possibility of going to a university and study something more productive. It’s curious how many guys want to study at university and don’t have the resources for it. Robert always had us, and the possibility to do it, but he didn’t even think about it. Perhaps he believed that military service would help him build his character, and when he finished his service he would study. That's something we’ll never know.”

Partly moved, David was about to put a hand on John's shoulder, when they heard a loud bang behind them. The kitchen door had been violently opened and three young men came quickly and headed towards them, aiming at them with guns and not giving them time to react. The one in front ordered them to raise their hands. Both obeyed.

“Where are they?” He asked them.

“Who?” Turn asked John.

“Come on, man, don’t get smart! Or that is that shotgun to hunt rats?”

“Precisely, but you took me by surprise.”

The man took the shotgun and hit him on the cheek with the butt of it. John staggered and almost fell, but David caught him. The man aimed at them again.

“Easy, friend,” he said to David. “We just want the child and Dr. Hansen. You are not important, but we still cannot leave witnesses.”

He signaled to those who accompanied him and both went up. The man standing on the front street sidewalk came in too. He was a tall man about fifty years old, and gray-haired. Unlike the others, he wore a suit and overcoat. He looked at them disparagingly.

“I apologize for the violent irruption,” he said, speaking slowly, “but we haven’t slept nearly as much and my boys want to finish with the assigned work soon. Dr. Hansen took a little advantage of us, but he still knew that sooner or later we would find him.”

“Who are you?” John asked, a wound from the blow had opened on his cheek, from which a trickle of blood flowed.

The man stood in front of them silent and motionless for a few seconds. Upstairs loud voices and footsteps were heard, and David and John heard Margaret’s voice asking for leave her and the boy alone.

“As soon you’ll be dead, I’ll tell you: my name is Thomas Robertson, and I’m here to claim the ‘commission’ The Second Coming made to Dr. Hansen, and it was stolen by him.”

“A brotherhood that is armed and capable of murdering people?” John asked. “Good way to show religiosity.”

“That’s because we’re not that kind of brotherhood,” Thomas said. “Our group has nothing to do with your God or that brotherhood I mentioned. Rather, we worship our lord Lucifer, and I have to admit that we didn’t like the news that might be in the world another Jesus, even if he is cloned. My mission was to eliminate him, but since I’m curious, I have decided rather to take him to our house to see if he could really be His clone. The problem is there are too many people involved now, and I’m glad to have reached you before the Second Coming and The Blessed Ones, which is another group very interested in finding you.”

Those who were upstairs came down with Hansen, Joseph and Margaret; the doctor hugged the boy tightly against him. Thomas approached them. He looked at Dr. Hansen for a few seconds.

“A pleasure to meet you, Dr. Hansen, you’re a risky man,” he said, and then looked at the boy carefully. Joseph looked at him with serene face, despite the commotion, he didn’t look scared.

“Hello...” Thomas said again, making an effort to remember. “What was the name the doctor gave you ...? Ah! Joseph, right? I have to admit that the doctor is an admirable man, as well as risky.”

Joseph was still staring into his eyes. A few seconds later Thomas felt a slight chill that run down his spine, which the others didn’t notice. Joseph removed one of Dr. Hansen’s arms that held him tightly and stepped forward, still staring into his eyes.

“You’re a dark man,” Joseph told him, “and you’re bad, but soon that darkness will go away, and it will take you with it.”

Thomas took a step back, and this time he couldn’t hide the fear that invaded him. The rest of his companions were confused and upset, for the first time they saw that man that seems firm and determined, flinch in front of a child, and one of them asked him what they will doing now. Thomas was going to say something, but the roar of gunshots and broken glass made him blink, and he watched as the one who had asked him the question fell to the floor with part of the inside of his head exposed. Then more detonations and more broken glass were heard. The other two men began firing toward the window of the living room, which was where they were being attacked. David grabbed the arms of Dr. Hansen and the boy and told them to get down on the floor, Margaret and John also did. A bullet had grazed Thomas’s right arm and made him back, while a second man who accompanied him also fell to the floor with two shots to the chest. David ran crouched down to the living room, avoiding being seen by those at the window, and took out his command hunting knife. In an instant he saw how the others ran after him as well, while Thomas retreated to the back door with his remaining man, still shooting, but this last one didn’t have time to get there, since a bullet hit him in the right cheekbone. Thomas had gone out. The shooting ceased, and David motioned for Hansen and the others to be quiet. He stood by the front door, waiting. A few seconds later it was opened violently and a man came in with a gun in his hand. David came out to meet him and grabbed him from behind, one hand grasping the armed hand, and the other plunging the knife into his neck. Margaret uttered a short cry of horror and looked down. Dr. Hansen hugged and covered Joseph’s eyes. A second man also came in, and David, turning quickly, used the first one as a shield, which received four shots in the chest. David threw the already inert body of that unfortunate man to the second one and made them both fall to the floor, after which he took advantage and quickly placed himself on top of them, putting his left foot on the armed hand of the second guy, and his right knee on the left arm, the man fired two more shots before David took the gun from him, and with it he pointed him at his head.

“Go see if the others left, John,” he ordered to him, still looking at the guy on the floor with the dead man on top. “Take your shotgun and be careful.”

John got up immediately and went to the kitchen, where he looked for his shotgun, which was next to one of the corpses. He carefully peered through the back door and after checking that there was no one around, he went back inside, standing next to David.

“They left,” he said. “But they will surely come back if you stay here.”

Dr. Hansen, Margaret and Joseph got up too. Hansen handed the boy to Margaret and stood next to David and John.

“Who are you?” David asked to the guy on the floor. “Are there more of you nearby?”

The man smiled faintly, and said nothing. David got up and shot him in the arm, next to his foot. The man screamed in pain. In the windows of some neighboring houses were curious faces scrutinizing the street, alarmed by the shooting.

“Tell me, who are you?” David asked again.

“Blessed Ones ...,” said the man with a gesture of pain on his face. “And you won’t be able to escape... We are enough to find you wherever you go... It’s inevitable.”

In the distance, siren sounds began to be heard. David wiped his knife on the dead man’s shirt and put it in his belt.

“Everyone is fine?” He asked them. Everyone nodded.

“It's going to be difficult to explain all this to the police,” John said.

“We have to take the risk,” David said. “Maybe the police will help us.”

Dr. Hansen looked at Joseph, then took John and David by the arms, pulling them close to him.

“If they find out that Joseph is not my son, they will take him away from me,” he told them in very low voice so that the boy wouldn’t listen. “Not to mention what would happen if they know what he is ... what he is.”

John and David looked at each other.

“Take my car and leave,” said John, pulling some keys from his pants pocket and handing it over to David. “It's that silver Charger over there. I’ll see what I say to the police. Remember to go where I told you, Julius. They will help you.”

“Sounds good to me,” Hansen said. “Thank you, John!”

Hansen went upstairs hastily and a few seconds later he went down with his suitcase and Joseph’s backpack. David asked him to bring his bag as well and he did so. Hansen put on his suit jacket, and inside one of his pockets he put the folded manila envelope. Back in the living room he hugged his old friend, then Margaret, and went out with Joseph through the front door, towards the Charger. The sirens were heard closer. David was going out too, when he heard the guy on the floor laugh. He turned to see him. He looked at him, saying:

“You won’t be able to escape. We have people everywhere. In the police, at the airports...”

David went to the door, and before leaving, he remembered something. He returned to John, took an envelope from his pocket and handed it to him.

“It’s from Robert. He made me promise to bring it here in case he didn’t come back.”