

Books in the "By Blood Spilt" Series and Sacred Retribution.

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Sacred Retribution

By Ricky Balona

Copyright - 2018

Chapter 1

Queenstown, New Zealand.

"The Innocents have been denied justice for too long. Retribution will be terrible and swift." Kheelan Sledge re-read the message on his cell phone. The date, location and time were included in the cryptic e-mail received two days before, along with a deposit of $5000 for expenses. It was sent via the Dark Web by someone using the name of Orcus.

Sledge trudged upstream swatting at sand-flies. "Bloody annoying little bastards!" He muttered. For a moment he stood in awe at the beauty surrounding him. He imagined what life must have been for the pioneers who founded Queenstown during the gold rush. He shuddered at the thought of the hardships they must have endured.

Ignoring the sand flies sucking blood from his exposed flesh Sledge dug deeply into the side pocket of his trousers reaching for his ringing cell phone.

"Who the hell is messaging me out here?" Sledge flicked his finger over the "answer" icon. The screen flashed a brief jumble of riverbank and trees.

"Behold the sinner!"

Barely audible, Sledge only just managed to hear the metallic voice on the other end of the line.

An image appeared on the screen of an elderly man ambling unsuspectingly near the riverbed somewhere up ahead.

"Feel privileged Sledge. You are watching a live stream of justice about to be delivered." Zooming out the image revealed a sinister figure stalking the elderly man.

"Who knows, possibly you will get to the sinner before my avenging angel does? Let the games begin!"

"Goddamnit, I had a bad feeling about this." Picking up the pace Sledge moved swiftly through the bush. Silently his slightly tanned, athletic body glided as if he were once again out on patrol in some distant jungle.

"Is this what it has come down to?" He muttered. Here he was, a renowned War Correspondent trudging upstream following up on some nonsensical message.

His sharp blue eyes stared at the riverbend ahead. Wiping a trickle of sweat off of his forehead with his shirt sleeve Sledge ran his fingers through his military-style light brown hair. Women found his rugged good looks interesting, attractive. The scar running down his left cheek furthered the "bad boy" image even though he never sought it. A bayonet wound from his days in the Legion. His bayonet was a few inches longer than the Somalian warlord's who charge at him in a drug-induced state. Sledge saw the dying man's face each day when he shaved, in the mirror. That was if he shaved daily.

The look of surprise and fear in the warlord's face as Sledge twisted his bayonet in the Somalians guts never faded with time.

He made a comfortable living selling his photos to the highest bidder, but this assignment seemed different. Passing the usual groups of unsuitably attired tourists panning for gold, expecting to find nuggets the size of tennis balls Sledge checked his camera. Swirling a mixture of fine sand and river water around in their plastic gold pans the tourists searched in vain for that elusive nugget.

Shotover Jet boats sped past with their complement of tourists screaming as they flew down the river at high speed narrowly missing overhanging trees and boulders. Locals would always mutter under their breath, "bloody Americans" when they heard the whoops and hollers from the jet boat passengers, Americans were the only ones who yelled when the jet boats careened down the river.

Sledge carried on past the tourists pushing further upstream. After two miles he stumbled across the occasional group of locals swilling beer while they shovelled classified dirt through their sluice boxes. One of them smiled as he dropped a small gold nugget into an already half-full glass tube.

A mile further, he spotted movement. Full-time gold diggers using illegal dredges hoping not to be caught by the Department of Conservation.

A fleeting smile played on his lips imagining the same blokes distilling moonshine along the river bank using homemade copper piped stills, listening to AC/DC and songs like "Copperhead Road."

Preferring to use a map and compass as opposed to the usual Google Maps, Sledge waded rapidly through the shallows.

"I hope like bloody hell this is some sick joke. No way I can take the chance though, move, move, move!" Running now, Sledge cut through the bush bordering the river. Brambles bit through his clothes leaving deep scratches on his face and arms.

Twigs snapped up ahead. Sledge froze out of habit, his years of military experience subconsciously taking over. A quick movement to his right caught his eye. He waited to scan the treeline. For a moment he wondered if he was hallucinating.

A young woman rushed through the scrub. Sandy blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, a leather handbag on her shoulder. The young woman struggled through the thick bush. He smiled watching her attempt to keep her shoes dry drawing closer to the riverbank. Stylishly dressed she seemed out of place this far upriver. For a heartbeat, their eyes met. Sledge thought she looked familiar. Then she disappeared into the scrub again.

"Bloody strange, what is she doing around here?" He checked his position with the compass, another two hundred meters.

His cell phone beeped again. Sledge read the message "I knew you would not fail me, Sledge. Make sure you record what you are about to see in the utmost detail. Father Connelly has sinned a great deal. Now the sword of justice hangs over his head. The time has come that it must fall upon him." Sledge stared at the message. Bursting through the bushes, he sprinted along the riverbed.

Alone at the campsite, Father Connelly inspected the Parishioner's work. The boys would be arriving in approximately three hours. Neat rows of tents lined a lush green section of the riverbank. Gone were the days when campers slipped into the thickets with a roll of toilet paper and a spade. Health and Safety insisted on a Portable Toilet. It stood at the far end of the camp.

Crystal clear water flowed from the melting snow peaks of the majestic mountains surrounding Queenstown. Father Connelly scanned the trees lining the riverbank. Small waterfalls cascaded down into the gently flowing river. He looked toward the heavens. It promised to be a warm one. In the low mist blowing through on the slight breeze, he thought he saw a small black bird skimming over the treetops.

It sounded like no birdsong he had ever heard. A low metallic whirl filled the air as it shot over his head. "Must be one of those new confounded drone things, damned tourists too lazy to walk upriver." He slipped on a wet stone drenching his lower legs in the icy water. Using language not associated with a priest he cursed the owner of the drone for distracting him.

Sitting on a rock, he took off his soaked shoes and socks. Swirling in the sudden breeze, Sledge watched the mist descended over the river.

Out of the haze, a lone figure emerged slowly but purposely walking toward him. For a moment Father Connelly thought it was some joke. A figure dressed in an altar boy's habit, the mask hiding his face the man appeared sinister. Father Connelly attempted a weak smile, but something in his gut told him it was no joke. The altar boy was a grown man. He wore the Melpomene mask or the tragedy mask in Greek mythology.

Father Connelly's subconscious mind told him that the altar boy was a Thurifer. He wore a long black robe under a white alb or long, decorated shirt. In his left hand, he held an incense burner, an elongated metal cylinder burning sandalwood incense. The sweet fragrance of sandalwood drifted across the river. In his right, he carried a tarnished cross.

Captivated, Father Connelly allowed the altar boy to get within an arm's length before realising he had made a fatal mistake. A ray of bright sunlight pierced the mist momentarily blinding Father Connelly. Looking up it seemed to him as if the sunlight shone like a halo around the altar boy. Throwing the cross and incense burner to the ground, the altar boy advanced.

From the folds of the altar boy's sleeves, a razor-sharp knife glinted in the sunlight. It flashed toward Father Connelly's face. He felt the cold steel bite into his cheek. Connelly's face was slashed open from ear to mouth, blood gushed from the wound. Father Connelly suddenly felt the searing pain. Panic-stricken, the ageing priest, turned and ran.

Father James Connelly stumbled along the tree-lined riverbank. Early morning sunlight sparkled in the crystal-clear waters. He lurched sideways glancing at the menacing figure closing in on him. Warmblood seeping from the gash in his cheek ran down his face and neck. Connelly shook with fright. Adrenaline swept through his shocked body. In the flight or fight anxiety response his mind and body offered up, he chose flight.

The fifty-three-year-old Catholic priest struggled for breath. He ran blindly through the neatly set up rows of tents.

Between the boy's tents and Father Connelly's own, more massive tent stood an open-air chapel. Displayed in the centre of the campsite was a wooden crucifix.

He tripped and fell heavily. Like a hunter stalking its prey, the robed altar boy followed closely behind. Overweight and out of breath he knew he had no hope of outrunning his assailant. Bending down the altar boy caught hold of Father Connelly's lower leg. The knife flashed through the air once more, slicing through Father Connelly's Achilles tendon. His screams were stifled as the Altar boy shoved his face into the river sand.

Fear coupled with adrenaline coursed through Father Connelly's sweat-soaked body. He pulled himself along clawing at the lush grass for a handhold. Father Connelly hoped that by some miracle he would find safety at the foot of the Crucifix.

Exhausted, Father Connelly turned to face the man slowly closing in for the kill. He felt sick to his stomach. He stared up at Jesus on the cross. Jesus seemed to look down on him with an accusing expression.

"Suffer the little children who come unto me!" Father Connelly felt his blood run cold. It was the first time the robed man had spoken.

Now, as he watched the altar boy attach a length of sturdy rope to the trunks of two trees, he began praying.

He stopped praying when the altar boy dragged him over between the two trees. "Kneel, Fat Bastard!" Father Connelly obeyed wondering if this man had been one of the boys in his church. It was open knowledge the boys called him "Fat Bastard" behind his back because of his size.

Slipping the ropes around Father Connelly's wrists, the altar boy pulled them tight. On his knees, arms outstretched Father Connelly felt utterly helpless. He began pleading with the altar boy. His pleas for mercy fell on deaf ears.

"Why are you doing this? I have done nothing to you. Please let me go now!" Father Connelly sobbed. "If this is some kind of joke it has gone far enough."

Roughly the altar boy cuts away the priest's clothes leaving him naked. His fat belly jiggled as he moved. Father Connelly caught a glimpse of the steel dagger smeared with his own blood and what looked like a small battle axe. The altar boy crudely stuffed a finger sized memory stick wrapped in plastic into the priest's mouth breaking a tooth in the process. Father Connelly heard a rasping sound. A thick layer of Duct tape muffled his cries. The altar boy wrapped layer after layer of tape over his mouth. He had watched many crime movies where the victim was tied up and gagged. He had at that time wondered if the victim suffered from sinus problems, how would they breathe through their mouths only. Now he was about to find out. Father Connelly gasped for air through his nose. He felt light-headed, not enough oxygen.

Shuffling into his view with slow deliberation the altar boy held the knife and axe close to Father Connelly's panic-stricken eyes. He then took up position behind the priest.

Painfully slowly the altar boy cut through skin and a thick layer of body fat. Blood splattered over the white robe and spurted up onto his face mask. The Duct tape stifled father Connelly's screams. His eyes bulged with pain and terror. With practised ease, the altar boy cut the shape of an eagle with outstretched wings onto Father Connelly's back. How he knew this the altar boy did not know. All that he knew was what was required and what he must do. It was somehow burned into his subconscious. He had vague memories of seeing the process done before. Now he had to do it.

Blood ran down Connelly's lower abdomen soaking the grey river sand a dull red. One by one the altar boy hacked the ribs from Father Connelly's spine with the small battle axe. He heard the crunch of the bones, the sickening feeling of razor-sharp metal cutting through flesh. Connelly was still alive and conscious. The altar boy pulled the bones and skin on each side outward to create a pair of wings on Father Connelly's back.

Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined such pain. Connelly hovered between two worlds.

Out of the corner of his eye, Father Connelly caught a momentary glimpse of what he thought was a small angel. It fluttered back and forth then hovered inches from his terrified and bloody face. He stared into the cold metallic lens of the drone capturing his death on video. The altar boy slid his hands into the wound gripping the priest's lungs.

His hands were warm and wet in the body cavity. Steam seeped into the air from the wound.

Father Connelly thought of the many sheep he had seen during his involuntary "prayer and forgiveness" bouts of leave that he was to forced take. New Zealand, the only country where there are more sheep than people. A herd of sheep are eating grass in a green field. The good shepherd watches his flock. Unexpectedly one sheep runs off into a different pasture. The other sheep follow. According to the scriptures, and the clergy we are all sheep. The sheep live in fear of the wolf, constantly reminded by the shepherd of the dangers of the wolves. But the shepherd is the one who eats them in the end.

The killer pulled the delicate and still pumping lungs from the huge gaping wound and laid them on the priest's shoulders, so they looked like the folded wings of an eagle. His exposed lungs fluttered. Father Connelly took his final, dying breath. Images of eternal damnation flashed through his mind.

Breaking through the undergrowth Sledge stopped dead in his tracks.

"Holy shit! Why did I not run faster?" He panted.

Staring open mouthed at the scene before him Sledge fumbled for his cell phone.

"Didn't make it in time I see. That's so sad. Maybe next time Sledge." Droning on in a monotone metallic voice, the unidentified caller continued. "A sneak preview for your eyes only." Staring at the cell Sledge flicked through three images sent by the killer.

Shoving the cell phone into his pocket, he watched the scene unfold through the lens of his camera. Cautiously approaching the murder scene Sledge took photo after photo of the dead man tied to the stakes. He zoomed in on the terrible wounds inflicted on the victim's body.

Circling the corpse, he sniffed at the familiar stench of death and blood.

Sand stained dark by blood, images of Afghanistan and shattered bodies flashed through his mind. Sledge felt his body become taught. His nerves were like a tripwire. His mind subconsciously raced searching for potential threats hidden in the brush.

He had seen worse than this, but it had been in war zones. In the last century, Queenstown had been the scene of one murder. A domestic turned violent some forty years ago. No-one locked their doors, keys were left in the ignition, and lost wallets or cell phones were handed into the Police Station. The headline news was when the occasional drunk teenager entered the wrong apartment and fell asleep on the couch, most times after pissing on the floor.

Perhaps it was the light breeze, but Sledge swore he thought the exposed lungs moved slightly.

Sledge noticed a flicker of movement in the bush. He caught a glimpse of someone wearing a robe which reminded him of the altar boys when he last attended mass, which was some time ago. The altar boy was holding onto a cross, and an incense chalice as the altar boy stood on the high ground. He stared down at Sledge. Gripping his camera, Sledge snapped away taking photos of the masked man standing in a halo of sunlight. Mist swirled in the breeze, it was a moment captured in time. Obscured by the mist the altar boy vanished.

Dropping his camera Sledge tore at the Duct tape over the victim's mouth. Kneeling, Sledge opened the priest's mouth running a finger inside searching for anything which could impair breathing.

He knew it was a futile gesture. The man was dead. "What the bloody hell is this?" Sledge pulled a blood-smeared plastic wrapped object out of the dead man's mouth. He wiped away a thin layer of blood and spit mingled with vomit. He stared at the memory stick. A shiver ran down his spine.

Lifting the camera Sledge was about to take additional photos when two land cruisers burst through the bush disgorging members of the Armed Response Unit. Staring down the barrel of a loaded assault rifle Sledge dropped the memory stick into the sand. He ground it underfoot obeying the instruction screamed into his ear by a black masked policeman.

Dropping to his knees, he clasped his hands behind his head. Sledge made sure the memory stick was buried in the sand. Slammed down onto the ground he felt handcuffs snapping around his wrists. A metallic click as they bit tightly into his flesh and he was hauled roughly up onto his feet.

"You are one sick bastard mate!" Sledge lifted his head. He stared into the rugged face of a police inspector.

"I've heard a lot about you Sledge, couldn't resist killing one last time, could you?" The inspector's hard eyes bored into Sledge's.

"I didn't do it mate. I was on an assignment following a lead when I came across this." Sledge retorted. A young policeman bent over, vomiting into the river.

"Stop walking all over the crime scene you idiots!" The inspector waved at the rest of the team signalling them to halt where they stood.

"Inspector Rees here, and you are nicked, mate!" He sneered.

Rees snatched the camera from around Sledge's neck. Frisking Sledge, he bundled him into the back of a land cruiser.

Police officers set up a perimeter around the crime scene, while detectives scoured the crime scene. Inspector Rees called to his unit. They hurriedly climbed into their vehicles.

Sledge rocked back and forth in the police vehicle on the drive downriver.

"This is going to be almost impossible to explain." Thinking about the overwhelming amount of evidence which could be used against him in a court of law he felt trapped.

"When, and if I get out of this, I am going to find the bastard responsible for setting me up."

He started out of the wire mesh covered window of the land cruiser. Tourists strolled down the streets of Queenstown oblivious to the heinous murder he had attempted to prevent.

The driver slowed down before turning into the Police Station. Taking one last look out of the window Sledge stared in disbelief at the blonde girl he had seen earlier upriver. She glanced momentarily at the police vehicles all the while talking on her cell phone then turned and walked away.

Following the river upstream the killer entered a dilapidated old mining cottage. The rusty tin roof rattled in the warm breeze. He blinked, eyes unaccustomed to the darkness of the sparse interior.

Holding out his blood-stained hands, he felt his way around the schist rock walls. Staring vacantly at two sticks bound with twine to form the sign of a cross he slowly removed the blood-soaked altar boy's cassock. Kneeling on the cold stone floor, the killer sat in silence oblivious to the sand flies swarming around his exposed body.

Sitting staring at the cross, he did not stir at the sound of heavy footsteps outside the single room cottage.

"We are pleased with your work. Matterson. Follow me!"

Obediently Matterson slowly stood upright. Automaton like, he followed the man outside. Together they climbed up the steep riverbank littered with fallen trees and rocks.

Turning down a little-used path hidden from view by pine trees and scrub, Matterson followed the man to the entrance of an old mining shaft.

"Down into the depths of hell you go!" He pushed Matterson along the dimly lit tunnel.

"Sit down. You know what happens now." Matterson slumped down onto a heavy wooden chair. He did not offer up any resistance when he felt the sturdy leather straps pull tight. Bound hand and foot to the wooden chair Matterson stared straight ahead. He did not flinch when the man attached an I.V drip in both arms.

"You will forget today's events." A stream of Barbiturates coursed through his body. A feeling of intense drowsiness threatened to put him to sleep. Seconds later a shot of Amphetamines sent a rush of adrenaline through his body and mind.

Added to this, the flashing strobe lights, blaring music and repetitive messages reduced Matterson to a physical and mental wreck.

"You will repent, pray for your sins. Go to the church and remain on your knees at the altar until the police arrive. You will remember nothing."

Electric shocks crackled through his body. Matterson jerked spasmodically. Matterson's subconscious incoherently brought to the fore the commands he knew he had to obey. Terrible pain and suffering resulted in not adhering to what Orcus instructed. Orcus, a name he knew well for a rare moment of clarity, then forgot in a brainwashed mixture of suffering and drug-induced haze.

Somewhere deep inside, his real personality feebly attempted to surface and retake control of his mind. Those rare moments were few and far between. Pain, sleeplessness and a cocktail of drugs suppressed his memories and moral values.

"Go now Matterson, go to the church and pray." A doorway far in the distance opened. Staring at the ray of sunshine Matterson stumbled naked toward the light. He hurried along a path he knew not. By some twist of fate, it brought him to within sight of the church steeple. As if in a trance he slipped unnoticed by passers-by into the church.

Prostrating himself at the altar, he began to mutter incoherently. Matterson did not hear the old woman scream. Dusting down the pews for the following mornings' service, she looked up to see a naked man lying at the altar. Minutes later a policeman covered the jabbering individual suspected of abusing either drugs or alcohol with a blanket. The policemen bundled him into the rear of their car. Minutes later he was dropped off at the station. Matterson was left to sober up in the drunk tank.

"Congratulations men, part one of the operation is a success. We can expect the same result from the other subjects." Orcus saluted the men standing before him.

"Next, we strike deep in the heart of the beast."

Chapter 2

Inspector Rees drove around the back of the station. A policeman finally removed the handcuffs. Sledge took off his shoes. He was instructed by someone to place his shoes in a wooden storage rack. Sledge was ushered into the Police Station's cell block consisting of three neatly arranged single units.

One cell had plexiglass instead of a small door and concrete walls. This cell was for the more extrovert drunks who might need a little surveillance. There was another larger cell, mostly used on New Year's Eve which could hold around ten people.

"Busy morning Inspector, he will have to take the third cell. The other two have people in them already. Number one is a tourist we found passed out on the pavement. He is sleeping it off still. The other is a nutcase we arrested at St Joseph's Catholic Church. Found naked kneeling at the altar. Covered in sand-fly bites he was." Shaking his head, the policeman laughed. "Says he has no idea how he got there and what he did for the last two days. We have called in Mental Health to sort him out." Rees nodded.

He shoved Sledge into the cell then slammed the door. Sledge heard the lock mechanism turning over. "How the hell did I fall for a setup like that?" He thought sitting down on the narrow bed. The cell reeked of disinfectant.

Lying on the plastic covered mattress on the concrete bed Sledge stared up at the white ceiling with its bright electric light in the centre. He ran through all the information he had received through the e-mail. It was not much to go on, he decided. An address, the name Orcus. That was all he could think of under the circumstances. Sledge forced himself to concentrate on even the smallest bit of information he could remember.

The grid coordinates and the time indicated someone knew what was about to happen at an exact moment. To pull off a well-orchestrated crime involving a victim, one or multiple killers, an unsuspecting witness and the police arriving when they did was indicative of a professional.

"Who called the Police? The coppers must have been tipped off if they arrived minutes after I got to the crime scene." Sledge jumped off of the bed. He began pacing the tiny cell like a caged Tiger. "Who was that blonde girl I saw upriver then again in town?" He tried recalling when they had previously met.

Sledge heard footsteps in the corridor outside. He stared at the door but listened to the adjacent cell being unlocked. Hours dragged slowly by. A pie and a bottle of water were handed to him sometime during the evening. There had been no word from the Inspector, no interrogation by an officer.

Sledge curled up on the bed pulling the rough blanket over his shoulders. Outside he could hear the tourists enjoying the night out at one of the many pubs and restaurants opposite the Station.

Dozing on and off Sledge heard the garbage truck heralding daybreak, loudly emptying dustbins filled with empty bottles.

"It must be around five in the morning. Damn, I need a cigarette."

Turning to face the door Sledge expected to see a policeman hearing keys rattling in the lock. Inspector Rees burst into the cell. He glared at Sledge. "Get the hell out of here you bastard!" He stood with clenched fists watching the surprised expression on Sledge's face turn to amusement.

"I don't know how you did, it but I have been ordered to let you go. From the highest authority, I was told." Inspector Rees snarled. He stood staring at Sledge, his face pressed close. Rees's cold blue eyes seemed to be searching into Sledge's very soul for answers.

One of the towns leading "Footy" players Inspector Rees cut an impressive figure. Six feet three, built like a brick shithouse with rugged features, he could have been a Kiwi Crocodile Dundee lookalike. His piercing blue eyes cut through the suspects he interviewed like lasers. Close-cropped sandy blond hair and a muscular body attracted many an admiring look from women as he patrolled through town.

"I'll be watching you Sledge. One wrong move and you will take up permanent residency here." He turned and walked briskly down the corridor.

Sledge followed him through a second door and into the Charge Office. His shoes, camera, cell phone and wallet were returned to him along with his backpack.

Inspector Rees sat down at his desk. Sifting through a pile of papers, Rees wondered how long it would be before they sent someone down from Wellington or Auckland to take over the case. One thing that really got to him was the last time he and his team had done all the work and were about to solve the case. That was when a bigwig from out of town arrived and took over. Taking all the credit, the big city detective flew back to Auckland. Rees was determined not to let the same thing happen again with this case.

Inspector Rees was a gambling man. He toyed with the idea of booking Sledge for the murder. There was enough circumstantial evidence to hold him for a while.

Sledge was a hard bastard, but he did not believe that Sledge could commit a crime the likes they had never seen in Southland, except in horror movies. Rees entered Sledge's name into his computer.

"Assault charge." He began reading the charge file. He felt elated knowing Sledge had been in trouble with the law before.

"Charges dismissed, suspect acted out of good faith defending a young girl accosted by two drunken men in a bar. Suspect accused of grievous bodily harm after both men were injured by Kheelan Sledge in a bar fight." Rees cursed.

Running his fingers through his close-cropped hair Rees re-read the message received earlier. He had spoken personally to a very senior officer on the force over the telephone. Under no circumstance was Sledge to be interrogated, nor was his arrest to be processed in any written form. Basically, they had never arrested him in the first place.

The order to release Sledge had been confirmed in e-mail messages and on the phone.

If he held Sledge, the investigation would take time. Not to mention the repercussions involved in disobeying a direct order from a senior officer.

The politicians fearing for Queenstown's reputation as a haven in a world gone mad would kick up a storm. The council would be put under pressure by the owners of businesses reliant on tourism. In turn, they would direct all their frustration and impatience on him. His ass was on the line.

Rees took a gamble then hedged his bet by calling in a surveillance team.

He picked up the phone on his desk and dialled a number.

"I want someone tailing that character, Sledge. I want to know where he is and what he is doing at all times. Is that clear!" He raised his voice before slamming the receiver down.

Rees removed the memory card on Sledge's camera and his cell phone. Contrary to the instructions received Rees slipped the memory stick into his computer.

Rees replaced the memory card. He looked through the photos on Sledge's camera which were downloaded on his computer. Rees clearly saw images evolving from the first steps toward the murder scene up until the one of the masked man standing on a slight crest holding a cross and incense burner. For a second, he paused at the photo of the man dressed as an altar boy in a mask. The light, the split-second timing which perfectly caught the murderer in a moment exposing himself to the world. Almost as if he wanted to be revealed to the world. He then flicked through the gruesome images of Father Connelly tortured to death.

Rees knew that the leads were there, Sledge would help him find the killer quicker than if he were to go about things conventionally. Rees watched and waited. He began noting down a select group of people who could facilitate the task.

Walking out into the early morning sunlight Sledge lit a cigarette. Inhaling deeply, Sledge felt his head spin. "Damn headrush, first few drags always does that to me."

He crossed over the street walking past the stone church with its stained-glass windows. Continuing down the aptly named Church Street, Sledge stood for a moment beside the Memorial Arch which bore the names of Queenstown's war dead from the First and Second World Wars. He scanned the names of the soldiers with sadness, for a small town the number of names on the white memorial was devastating. He remembered the photo he had seen on a church wall at Cardrona. A small village nestled in the ski fields not too far from Queenstown. It was a black and white photograph of twenty children taken in 1912. He had looked at the faces of the innocent children. How many of the teenagers would die in Gallipoli or on the Western front in the mud, blood and gas of World War One? Did the girls sign up and serve as nurses on the front lines? He could not even begin to imagine the horrors those children were destined to witness in a few short years, their childhood cut short by the brutality of war.

He had seen similar memorials in small towns in France and Germany. "All because of the damned politicians." He thought. "And the bankers with their Elite cronies who enrich themselves at the expense of the average person." He thought about a story he had covered in the Middle East.

A multitude of "radical and not so radical" groups supplied by the same countries which sent their troops to fight against the very enemy they had supplied. It linked up with Allied companies during the Second World War who provided both sides with aviation fuel, factories in Germany which were never bombed because they had branches in the United States. American companies could have grounded the Luftwaffe by not supplying aviation fuel to Germany, yet they chose to profit. How many young airmen on both sides died because the companies continued the fuel supply?

Checking through his backpack Sledge breathed a sigh of relief, the photos on his camera had not been deleted. It brought him back to reality. He flicked through the photo's sending the picture of the Altar boy to his agent. He thought about writing a report as to what had happened, but he needed a coffee first. Sitting down on the pebble beach beside Lake Wakatipu, Sledge watched the century-old steamer "Earnslaw" heading out with a full complement of tourists for a trip to Walter Peak. They would all watch a sheep shearing demonstration then afterwards they would take a leisurely stroll around the old homestead. Perhaps they would have lunch under the trees or feed the multitude of farm animals roaming around the grounds.

Paragliders circled in mid-air after having launched themselves off of the nearby mountain. Sledge watched as Jet boats roared across the lake while people crowded into the cafés for breakfast. The ebb and flow of the waves on the lakefront entranced him.

"What a wonderful life they have." he smiled. Sledge had never been part of the herd, he was more a loner. He Googled New Zealand news and then Queenstown. Flipping through the latest headlines, he saw no sign of the murder. A cruel murder was big news, major news and no-one had reported it. He had the photos, but no story behind it or the reason for the gruesome murder for the moment. One thing he despised were journalists who expressed their own opinion through "sources who did not want to be named" articles.

His car was still down by the river. There was the memory stick he had buried in the sand. Would it reveal the reason behind the murder? Slipping his phone into his pocket Sledge turned to walk toward the bus stop when his phone beeped.

"Meet me at Ferg's" Was all the message said. "When do you want to meet and who are you?" He replied to the sender listed only as "Private" There was no reply. Sledge ambled off toward Ferg Burgers, the only place in Queenstown where there was a crowd all day and night.

Sledge shook his head standing and watching from across the street. Tourists lined the sidewalk even at this early hour waiting for a burger which was supposedly one of the best in New Zealand. If not in the world. Tourists lined the sidewalk proudly wearing their newly acquired t-shirts emblazoned with various extreme sports logos from skydiving to river rafting and bungy jumping.

"Hi Kheelan, remember me?" Sledge turned at the sound of the voice. He stared in astonishment at a girl with blondish brown hair tied back in a ponytail. Her radiant smile brought back childhood memories. "Um, Patricia is it?" He smiled awkwardly. She laughed shaking her head. "Close, my brother Robert and you were good mates at school."

For a second Sledge stared at her mischievous smile and the twinkle in her brown eyes. "Piper! Of course, I remember you." He unintentionally looked her up and down. "Wow! You turned out alright." Instantly regretting his tactless comment, he blushed slightly. "Um, thanks, I think," Piper replied with a smile.

"Great to see you again, last time you were only an irritating twelve-year-old little sister." He took out a pack of cigarettes offering her one. He lit her cigarette then his own. "That, may I remind you was ten years ago Kheelan. You were the annoying friend of my equally annoying older brother. I guess that some things change as we get older." She pushed back a strand of hair.

"How's Robert? I haven't heard from him in years." He noticed a sudden sadness in her eyes. "Haven't seen him for quite a while, I suppose he is alright." She shrugged.

"Can I get you a coffee or something? I have a few things I'd like to talk to you about. What were you doing up the river yesterday and how did you get my number to message me a few minutes ago?" Sledge took a step toward the curb. There was a coffee shop across the road.

"I never messaged you. I don't even know your number." Piper stared up at Sledge. "Talk about synchronicity or coincidence but I honestly, simply bumped into you this morning." She burst out laughing. "Do you think I am stalking you or something?" Sledge found her smile and laughter captivating.

"I wouldn't mind if you were. How about breakfast?" He muttered under his breath then, he nodded at the coffee shop across the road.

"I did, however, receive a weird message telling me to meet someone wearing a dark shirt and jeans." She looked at Sledge. He wore jeans and a dark brown shirt.

Piper's smile transformed into a look of panic. Sledge spun round. Two men crouched in the open side door of a black van. Their handguns pointed menacingly at Sledge and Piper. "Hand it over, right now!" Both were similarly attired in dark suits. "Get in now! Be quick about it! Hand the damn thing over."

"Let her go. She has nothing to do with whatever you want with me." Pushing Piper to the side Sledge toyed for a split second with the idea of grabbing for one of their guns. "Okay, no need to make a fuss." He stepped up to the van holding onto the sliding door as he was about to bend forward and get in.

Slamming the door, he heard one of the men scream out in pain as his ankle bore the full force of the door banging against it. "Up there!" he held Piper's hand running across Shotover Street. Darting between throngs of tourists crowding the sidewalk Sledge turned into a packed café further down the street. He knew it well. They walked in through the front entrance "Two coffees please." Sledge said to the smiling waitress. "And two croissants as well." He added.

Piper sat stunned at the table. "What is going on Sledge? Who are those men?"

"Something terrible happened just after I saw you walking down the river yesterday. Perhaps I'll explain later but for now, keep an eye out for those bastards."

Glancing at the newspaper on the empty table beside them Sledge pointed to a large picture of a Viking in full battle gear on the front page. "Could be worse I suppose." Buttering a croissant, Piper looked at him shrugging uncomprehendingly. "We could have that lot after us!" He chuckled stirring his coffee attempting to lighten Piper's mood. "I have seen that picture before, that's strange." Pointing to the front-page picture of the Viking.

"It must be some sort of advertisement, but there is no write-up or explanation at all." Keeping a watchful eye out for their would-be abductors, Sledge squinted at the picture for a second. He then finished his coffee.

"Orcus" Piper murmured.

"What, where do you see that name. It was Orcus who messaged me down by the river yesterday." Sledge looked at the paper again, this time with more interest.

"It's what it says on the shield," Piper said pointing to the paper.

"I don't see anything, just a bunch of weird symbols.

"Here Sledge, those are Runes. It's the old Scandinavian or Anglo-Saxon form of writing." Piper tapped the symbols with her finger.

"I know the Runes, I have been a Wiccan for some time." She blushed expecting the usual questions as to whether she was a witch or could cast a spell.

"Oh, cool." Sledge simply shrugged.

"What's happening Sledge?" More than a little stunned Piper held tightly onto his hand. He shook his head. "To be honest, I have no idea." He turned to her. "What were you doing so far up the river yesterday?" She turned away.

She rested her hand on his arm. "I received a weird text message while I was at work, something to do with my brother and the old mine shaft we used to play in when we were kids." His face lit up. "Yes, I remember that place, we spent many a summer's days up there."

"What happened when you got to the old mine shaft?" He asked.

"Nothing, I walked around for a bit then found an envelope addressed to me nailed to an old tree we used to play in. I did notice some tire tracks and building material scattered about all over the place."

"It has to be someone we know and is familiar with our childhood. How long has Robert been missing?" He kept an eye on the entrance.

"For quite a while, but I don't see how this could have anything to do with my brother Sledge," Piper replied defensively. She seemed to be genuinely upset. Sledge noticed how her eyes darted around the room expecting to see the two men again. Nervously she nibbled at her croissant.

"Okay, let's go." He waited while Piper hurriedly finished her coffee then he led her out the other side of the café into Earnslaw park.

"There they are again!" She said pointing, her hand trembled slightly. He spotted the black van cruising slowly down Beach street. "Leave me and go home Piper, I have already involved you way too much in whatever is going on. Let me handle it from here." He turned to walk across the crowded park. "How do you know they were after you and not me? Perhaps it is me they are looking for, or both of us for that matter."

She tugged at his sleeve. "My car is around the corner, let's get out of town. I want to go home." They drove in silence out of Queenstown. She drove fast as if attempting to outpace their pursuers.

"What if they are waiting for me at home? I don't want to go back there if that might happen!" Piper held the steering wheel tightly.

"A short way up ahead is a Bed and Breakfast, turn in there." Sledge said. "It used to be a farm." He wondered if they would possibly be waiting outside his place.

"Five minutes' drive outside of the centre of town and it is all farmland and wilderness. I don't think they will find us out here." He smiled.

Chapter 3

The car crunched over the gravel driveway. A spacious Colonial style farmhouse almost a century old stood amongst the neatly trimmed hedges and pine trees. Driving past an old pond, ducks quacked angrily at the intrusion. A goose hissed then gave chase. Sheep and Alpacas grazed peacefully in a green meadow further along the property. Piper parked beside a beat-up old Dodge with gun racks. The goose advanced toward the car, hissed once more then went back to the pond.

They entered the homestead. It smelt of wood polish, fresh coffee and bacon. Sledge rang the bell on the wooden desk. "Bloody hell, they must be doing alright." He pointed at the small sign indicating the price of a room in the main house or a more expensive option for a little stone cottage toward the back of the property.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway. An elderly man clumped down the passageway.

"G'day mate, the missus will be with you in a bit. Bloody possums have been tearing up the Apple trees down by the river." He patted a rifle he held casually in one hand. "Going off to sort the buggers out now!" He smiled and waved jumping into the old Dodge. Two dogs scampered across the yard and climbed into the back.

"Look at what the old bastard has done to my floor! If I've told him once I've told him a million times to leave his damn muddy boots outside." A well endowered elderly woman suddenly smiled adjusting her glasses.

"Honeymoon couple out here on your first visit to New Zealand, are you?" Glancing up at the pair she pointed to the stone cottage. "I have just the perfect place for you, secluded and romantic. Would you like to see the cottage first?" In their late sixties, the old couple made more over the last ten years renting out rooms in their spacious house or the old cottage that they had farming sheep for the previous thirty years.

"Not really, we would like a little peace and quiet for a day or two, that's all. We are not newlyweds" Piper blurted out. The old lady glanced at the two of them intently.

"Wait a minute, I know you. You are Molly's little granddaughter!" She smiled widely. "All grown up now. How's your gran?" Piper blushed. "She's alright, getting on a bit now though, Mrs. Mac Dougal."

"Tell her I send my love won't you when you see her." She drew closer to Sledge.

"And you, you are Harriot's grandson, Kheelan Sledge as I remember."

Everyone called him Sledge instead of Kheelan at school, something which had continued.

"Yes Mrs. Mac Dougal, I am sorry about what happened when we had that party at the cabin by the lake you used to have when we left school. I promise you it wasn't me who pissed in your steam iron." He looked down at the muddy footprints on the polished floor.

"Had I caught the little bastard who did that I would have given him a right good bloody walloping. But all that's in the past. Hang on a minute." She bellowed.

Mrs. Mac Dougal bounded off into a nearby room.

"Now where is the old bastard? Thinks he can pull the wool over my eyes. Possum hunting, my ass. Everyone knows possums only come out at night, bet his drinking a tinny behind the shed. One moment my dears."

Mrs. Mac Dougal stepped outside.

"Oi! get your backside back here now!" She screamed.

Mrs. Mac Dougal strolled back into the reception area as if nothing had happened.

"I have something more suitable for you two. Ah, young love. I remember when the old bastard and I would swing from the chandeliers all bloody night!" She smiled coyly rummaging through a desk drawer.

"Too much information," Sledge whispered nudging Piper. "Way too much information." She giggled. "Ah, got it, come with me my dears." Mrs. Mac Dougal stormed out of the front door holding a key. The Dodge pulled up showering them with gravel. The dogs leapt out drooling all over Piper.

"Remember Molly's granddaughter and Harriot's grandson?" She pointed to Sledge and Piper. "Yeah, I thought they were local." He jumped from the driver's seat reeking of beer. "Good on you mate." He whispered nudging Sledge. "She's a looker, bloody beauty."

"Follow the old bastard. Mr Mac will take you down to the cabin. Hide, or should I say park your car around the side. No one will know you lovebirds are here, trust me."

Piper turned to Mrs Mac Dougal. "How much is it."

Mrs. Mac Dougal smiled shaking her head. "You are practically family, no worries. Stay a few days, no charge, but if anyone pisses in my steam iron I will thrash them!" Sledge busied himself with parking the car around the back. Mrs Mac Dougal chuckled returning indoors to clean her dirty floors.

Following Mr Mac Dougal down a dirt path between Birch and Oak trees, they came across a stone cabin hidden from view by the trees. Piper smiled with delight. "This is awesome. I never knew this place existed before." She walked over the narrow stone bridge straddling a small, bubbling stream.

Mr Mac Dougal pushed the wooden door ajar. "Make yourselves at home. There are Tea and Coffee in the kitchen, but I'm afraid anything else you need you will have to go into town." He winked at Sledge. "Enjoy your stay mate."

"Dirty old bastard!" Piper laughed. Sledge went briefly through the cabin. A small kitchen, a bathroom, cosy lounge with fireplace and one bedroom.

"Fancy a cuppa Sledge?" Piper asked.

He nodded sitting in front of the fireplace.

Piper boiled the kettle while she dropped a teabag into each cup.

"Milk and sugar?" She asked

Sledge nodded, he held up two fingers indicating the number of spoons of sugar.

"Tell me more about what happened after our paths crossed down at the river yesterday."

Sledge looked at her intently. "Okay, Piper. If you must know, I received a weird message on my phone. It was from someone I don't know. His name was Orcus."

Pipers face turned pale.

"Then what happened?" She asked.

"First tell me about Robert." He took a swig of tea.

My brother, Robert disappeared a few years back. Just after you up and left to join the French Foreign Legion." She slapped him playfully on the shoulder.

"Thanks for all the bloody letters you sent." She smirked.

"I did reply to one or two. You know I did."

He felt a little awkward, what would people have thought? She had been in her early teens while he was nineteen years old fighting in far-off countries.

"What was I supposed to do, send you postcards of Mali, Afghanistan and Rwanda?" He smiled.

"Robert had been acting very odd for a while. He seemed haunted by something. Mum tried to get him to talk to Father Connelly down at the church. Robert exploded saying he would never go back to a church now that he was old enough to decide whether to go or not. He said something about being forced to attend church when he was a boy." She nodded toward the pack of cigarettes on the table. Sledge handed her one then lit a cigarette himself.

For a few moments, they sat in silence. "Mum didn't understand any of it. Father Connelly had always been there for his congregation. Why Robert suddenly shunned the church has always bothered her."

"As I said, I received a message telling me to meet near where we used to play at the old mine shaft. When I got there, all I found was this key to a post office box and the number. I have it here." She dug into her jean's pocket pulling out a small silver coloured key.

"Did you have a look at what was inside the box?" Sledge asked stubbing out his cigarette on a log in the unlit fireplace.

"No, I was on my way when I bumped into you."

Sledge was still undecided as to whether or not to believe their meeting up again was pure chance or not.

"And you, why were you arrested? What were those men after earlier?" She drew closer.

"Same as you, I received a message from someone. This mysterious person called himself Orcus." She looked stunned.

My grid coordinates were different from yours. There was also a small photograph of what looks like a painting of the Viking warrior. Similar to the one in the paper this morning."

"Okay, but what has this all got to do with a key and a trip upriver for you, ending up in a night in jail? For what, what happened?" She looked puzzled.

"You were sent to a specific place, the old mine shaft. I had to find my objective using a map." Sledge said.

She nodded reaching out for his camera on the small table beside the fireplace.

"Wait, don't look at the photo's Piper!" He reached for the camera. She slipped playfully out of his grasp.

"Why not, what am I going to find? Compromising pictures of your girlfriend, is she showing some skin?" Giggling, Piper turned the camera on. She stopped as if she had been miraculously turned to stone. All Sledge heard was her finger frantically clicking from one gruesome photo to the next.

"Oh! My God Sledge. What did you do to this poor man?" She shrieked. For a second, she stared up at the old hunting rifle above the fireplace wondering if it was loaded.

"I never did anything Piper. Please believe me." He looked at her.

"I have never seen anything like this before. It looks like something out of a horror movie." She looked deathly pale.

"Please, believe me, Piper, I had nothing to do with the murder. I tried getting there as fast as I could but never made it in time." He pleaded with her.

"You know me, do you really think I would do something as terrible as this?" He pointed to the camera.

Something in his eyes told her he might be telling the truth.

"Hypothetically, if we are unwittingly being drawn into something let us at least be honest with each other." She held out her trembling hand to Sledge. He hesitated for a second.

"Alright, we share information and see what we can come up with. Your post box key?" Piper held the key out. They shook hands in a very uncharacteristic, formal fashion. "

"That was way too proper." He held up his hand for a high five.

"Okay, firstly we recover the memory stick I buried then we take a look at what's in your post box." Touching her hip gently with one hand he led her out of the cabin.

"What memory stick Sledge?' They walked back to the car.

"Arriving on the scene, I attempted to administer first aid. I didn't know how badly the priest had been injured. I took off the tape around his mouth and checked his airways hoping he was still breathing. He wasn't, but I found a memory stick or U.S.B jammed into his mouth. I dropped it into the sand and covered it up when the police arrived."

"Something tells me the thugs in the black van were looking for the memory stick." Sledge opened the driver side door for Piper then climbed into the passenger seat.

They drove slowly up to the entrance of the main house.

"Ask the Mac Dougal's if they need anything from town. Might as well bring the old boy back some beers, poor bastard. Mrs Mac Dougal was always a bit of a battle-axe!" Sledge laughed.
Chapter 4

Walking carefully through the thickets, they drew closer to the river. Sledge led Piper toward the scene of the crime. For the last thirty meters or so they crouched, creeping up so as not to be seen. The last few meters they crawled stealthily camouflaged in the bush.

Yellow Police tape tied between the trees cordoned off the area. A detective and two policemen sifted through the sand looking for clues and taking photographs.

"Damn, we won't even get close. Maybe the police will be gone by this evening, that is if the coppers don't find the memory stick first." They lay behind a rocky outcrop slightly overlooking the crime scene no more than ten meters away.

"I have an idea, get ready to move when they are distracted." She patted Sledge on the leg.

"What the hell, wait for a second Piper!" Before he could stop her, she darted along the riverbank disappearing into the treeline.

Nervously waiting to see what would happen next Sledge peered through the foliage at the Police team working. "They have not seen us yet."

"G' day mate! Can any of you boys show me the way back downriver, I got separated from my friends. They walked over there somewhere." She pointed in the opposite direction from where Sledge lay.

For a moment the policemen hesitated. "You can't be here Miss. This is a crime scene." The senior of the trio warned Piper sternly.

"Okay, but I need to find my friends. If you see three girls tanning topless around there tell them I am looking for them." Pointing in the general direction of the far side of the campsite Piper gave them her best "Damsel in distress" look.

"Three young girls tanning topless out here might be dangerous, where did you say they were." The senior policeman suddenly lost interest in the crime scene. "Maybe we can spare a minute or two to help you find your friends, what do you say boys?" He turned to see the other two already scouring the bushes with binoculars where Piper had indicated her friends might be.

Seizing the opportunity Sledge darted forward raking through the sand where he had hidden the memory stick. Frantically he searched, nothing. He heard voices approaching. In a last desperate effort, he clawed around the area where he had been when the police erupted on the scene.

"Sorry Miss, but we can't spare any more time. You are welcome to wait here with us until we are finished. We can give you a lift back into town if you like."

"Bloody hell, where is the damn thing!" Sledge was about to turn and dart back into the bush when he hit pay dirt. "Bloody beauty mate!" Slipping quickly behind the rocky outcrop as the first policeman returned to the crime scene Sledge breathed a sigh of relief.

Piper looked directly at the area where Sledge lay watching. He broke cover for a second holding up the plastic-wrapped memory stick then dropped down again.

"Thank you so much for your help officers, I am going to have a look down there, and if I don't find them, I will come back here. Your offer of a lift back into town is very kind."

"Wendy, Jane, where are you!" She began calling leaving the police officers a little puzzled. She continued walking along the riverbank calling out until Sledge whistled softly from a dense clump of trees.

"Jesus, that was bloody brilliant Piper. I couldn't have done it without you." She flashed him a dazzling smile. "We have our ways, us girls sometimes." Piper smiled as they waded across the river through the knee-deep water they headed back to the car. "I won't go back for my car if you don't mind. Someone might be watching it." Sledge said.

Piper nodded her head in agreement.

"Might as well make it a round trip, next stop the post office in Frankton." Sledge held the memory stick tightly in his hand. He remembered finding it in the priest's mouth covered in blood and spit. He dropped it into his pocket and wiped his hands on his trouser leg.

Driving along through Arthurs Point and along the scenic Malaghan's road with Coronet Peak on their left they joked about what had happened at the river with the policemen.

"It's hard to imagine that in a few months, the entire mountaintop will be covered by a blanket of snow. Hordes of tourists are going to be flocking to the slopes skiing or snowboarding for a few weeks." Piper looked toward the Crowne Range.

Heading toward Arrowtown, they passed the lush green fields and multimillion-dollar homes of the rich and famous scattered along the pastoral countryside.

"Turn right down Hunter road Piper. It will be quicker." She gave him a dark stare.

"That was what I was about to do. I grew up here too, you know." Piper muttered under her breath.

He smiled. "Sorry, I should have left it to you. Any idea what we might find in the post box?" She shook her head.

They drove along in silence listening to Rock music on the car stereo until they reached Frankton, a residential suburb of Queenstown on its Eastern side.

"Here we go, Sledge." Piper parked her car at the small intersection by the roundabout.

"Let's go and find out what horrors await!" She smiled when she said it, but Sledge could not help seeing the worried look in her eyes.

Sledge held the door open for Piper. They walked into the small narrow room with post office boxes running along the wall.

"Box number 446 is the one we are looking for Sledge." Piper held up the tag attached to the small silver key.

"Could it have something to do with Robert and his disappearance?" A look of hope flashed across Piper's face for a second.

"I don't want to get my hopes up, Sledge. I miss him so much." Sledge glanced at her. "You didn't say he was missing before, only that you hoped he was alright and you had not seen him for a while."

Looking down Piper whispered. "He went missing nearly three years ago. No-one has heard from him since. There the one day, gone the next." She scanned the numbers on the boxes.

"Was he involved in anything weird?" Sledge pointed to box number 446.

"No, unless you call a community group that helped build houses in the countryside for the elderly and underprivileged kids weird. He spent most weekends away with them. They were as shocked as we were at his sudden disappearance."

"Right, here we go." She placed the key in the lock. The door creaked open.

"What the hell is this?" Piper pulled out a Manila envelope.

She turned to walk out of the door.

"Feels like there are papers or something inside. Let's open it at the cabin. I am not sure if I want to know the contents right now."

Taking Frankton road into town, they stopped at a supermarket before carrying on to the Arthurs Point.

"Got you some beers mate, hope the missus won't mind!" Piper placed the box of beers on the back of Mr Mac Dougal's truck. "Bloody beauty! Thanks, time to go hunting possums again." He leapt into his truck.

They walked into the homestead. "Mrs Mac Dougal, some flowers and a box of chocolates for you. I hope you like them." Sledge handed her the flowers. "Ah! Reminds me of when the old bastard would bring me flowers, seems so long ago." She pointed at the rooms and the cottage outside. "Fully booked tonight so you can join us or stay put in the cabin tonight."

They looked at each other. "I think we will get an early night, don't want to bother you or your guests." Piper smiled.

"Thought you might say that. Well, have fun you two." She laughed. "We are just friends, Mrs Mac Dougal, honest." Blushing Piper made for the door.

"It always starts like that my dear." Mrs Mac Dougal cackled all the way to the kitchen where she prepared afternoon tea for her guests.

Settling into the cabin Sledge poured them both a glass of red wine. "Okay, let me open this." Piper drank deeply from the glass before slowly prying open the envelope. Her fingers trembled. Tearing off the envelope flap, Piper poured the contents onto the small wooden table. A dozen or more photographs spilt out.

"What the hell is this?" Sledge picked up one of the photos.

"Oh my God Sledge!" Piper stared at the photos.

"Young boys, being abused by older men. Jesus this really gets me upset. I can understand why someone would slowly torture one of these perverts to death." Sledge cursed.

"Do you think Orcus is involved in all of this? I mean, someone might be blackmailing him. If the priest killed down at the river was about to spill the beans maybe Orcus silenced him to protect himself." Piper quietly arranged the photos on the table. She fought the desire to burst into tears thinking of the horrors and abuse the innocent boys must have endured.

"Do you think Orcus might be a priest Sledge?" Sipping her wine, Piper stared at the photographs.

"Possibly, I mean who else would go so far as to commit murder in an attempt to silence a whistle-blower?" Kneeling in front of the fireplace Sledge began stacking up kindling.

His cell phone shrilled loudly scaring the hell out of both of them. Piper screamed. Sledge picked up his phone. "Just a message, let's see what it says." He had a bad feeling when he clicked onto the message icon.

"I hope by now you have retrieved the envelope. The photos are to be taken to Inspector Rees as soon as possible. Await further instructions. Orcus." They stared at the message.

"Why are we doing this Piper. I am finished with this bullshit. I am no-one's messenger boy." He flipped through the photos again. "Bloody sick bastards. Don't feel sorry for the fat bastard now." Piper gathered up the photos replacing them in the envelope leaving one of the images on the table.

"Don't you realise that this is evidence. You will be cleared of any suspicion Sledge. This must be the reason the priest was killed. Do you know the other one?"

Sledge stared at the photo Piper pointed to on the table. "I don't know who he is, but I have seen him around somewhere, he must be a local or someone who has stayed in Queenstown for a while." Staring at the photo Sledge nodded his head. "Okay, we will take the photos to Inspector Rees, and then that is the end of it. We have been, and I want to know by whom, I will find out by myself."

Storming to the front desk of the police station Inspector Rees glared at Sledge. "You've got a damn nerve coming back here after what happened. What the hell do you want!" He fixed Piper with an icy stare. "Who's she?" Inspector Rees snarled looking her up and down. Piper attempted a weak smile.

"She's a friend Rees. There is something we think you should see." He nodded toward the closed door leading to the offices.

"Whatever it is I can look at it here, no point in wasting even more of my time." He reached for the envelope.

"Not here, trust me, Inspector." Piper looked at two young teenage girls who were handing in a set of car keys and a cell phone they had found down at the Village Green.

"This had better be good. Follow me you two." Inspector Rees disappeared for a moment. A side door opened, it smelt of stale coffee and cigarette smoke. He led them to his office. "Okay, let's see what you have here. Take a look at that Sledge." Pointing to the local afternoon paper, he stabbed a finger at a small article. Piper stood beside Sledge reading the report from the Catholic Church. "Oh, my God!" Can you believe that?" She blurted.

"They say Father Connelly slipped and fell in the river hitting his head. He died accidentally by drowning." Piper shook her head in disbelief. "Yeah, they also go on to say what a wonderful, caring person he was. Father Connelly was always taking care of the local kids. Lying bastards."

Inspector Rees looked up at them from his desk. "That's the official version, for the moment." He opened the envelope flicking through the photos one by one.

"The dates and time are all on the back of the photos. Where did you get this from?" Reaching for the phone on his desk, Inspector Rees dialled a number.

"Please Inspector, we were told where to find the envelope and given an instruction that they are delivered to you. We don't know who is behind all of this." Piper blurted out.

Holding up his hand Inspector Rees barked into the phone.

"Yes, the weirdo in cell number two. The bastard found in the church naked, is he cuffed?" There was a pause. "Well bloody cuff him and I want one of you posted outside his cell twenty-four seven. Make sure he doesn't attempt suicide or something equally weird. And get Forensics down there on the double, I will explain when I get there." He slammed the receiver down.

"From what I see here old Father Connelly abused the boys while the other pervert in the cell there restrained them or watched. Sick bastards." Rees clenched his fists. "You do understand I will have to detain both of you until this is sorted out?" He looked up at Sledge and Piper.

"We could have simply left them at the front desk if we wanted to. We are not going anywhere. You know where to find us." Sledge took Piper by the hand and guided her toward the door. "I'll leave matters in your capable hands Inspector." There was a hint of sarcasm in Sledge's voice.

They walked out of the room expecting to be called back at any moment. Standing in front of the locked door leading back into the front desk, Sledge heard a metallic click. Inspector Rees pressed a button under his desk. The door opened.

"Get the suspect from cell number two over here right now." Rees watched from an adjacent room through the one-way glass as the suspect was positioned in front of the Biometric Iris scanner.

In real time Rees received the suspect's identity, address and list of offences from the database.

"Well, well Father Craig Matterson seems to have quite a history. Multiple charges of molestation, all charges were supposed to have been investigated by the church." Rees shook his head. He had never had much faith in justice being carried out by the church's internal investigations.

"Keep an eye on Sledge. Someone is using him. I want to find out who." Rees stepped through the doorway into the interview room. When forensics sent the evidence through, he would have a solid case against Father Matterson. The bloodstained altar boy's habit found near the church would be pretty damning evidence if it came back with Matterson's D.N.A all over it and Connelly's blood. For now, he would have to be patient.

Matterson and Connelly were just the tips of the iceberg judging by the intricacy of the planning behind the murder.

Stepping out into the early evening air Sledge kept a wary eye out for the mysterious van which had attempted to kidnap them earlier.

"I'm starving, fancy something to eat?" They walked down Beach street amongst the tourists pouring into the restaurants or drinking beer at tables outside Cafes. "There is a good place for ribs and steaks up there." Piper pointed to a balcony of a restaurant.

"That's a bloody relief, what with the Wiccan thing I thought you would be a Vegan." He laughed.

"Sounds good to me, let's go." He held the door open for her, the mouth-watering smell of B.B.Q ribs wafted out to greet them.

"What do we do now Sledge" Sipping at a strong cup of espresso coffee Piper felt a little more relaxed after the meal. "I need to find a computer and check out the memory stick." He lit a cigarette on the balcony of the restaurant. "Some clean clothes and a toothbrush would be good right now. Should we stop off at my place while I grab a few things before we go back to the cabin?" Staring out at the lights reflecting off of the still waters of Lake Wakatipu, Piper waited for Sledge to answer. "Okay, can we swing by my place afterwards? I need my laptop and printer. I think staying in the cabin would be the safest option."

In no great hurry, they walked along the water's edge watching the new generation of Hippie travellers guzzling beer along the beach. Several hippie travellers performed magic tricks or played musical instruments as a way of earning money to continue their journey.

"Funny how they all end up down here in New Zealand after India, South East Asia and Australia." Piper said dropping a dollar coin in a hippie's hat as he finished a rendition of "Fur Elise" on a piano fitted with the wheels from a shopping trolley.

"Ha, that piano gets handed down from traveller to traveller along the way. Last winter a guy was playing Dixie tunes down at the park on it." Piper laughed.

"Oh my God, I always wanted to try that!" She pointed to a group of youngsters walking on a slackline strung between two trees.

Sledge heard them speaking French.

Piper listened as Sledge rattled off in French. Smiles lit the faces of the Frenchmen.

"It is so funny but excellent to hear an English person speaking French." Laughed one of them wearing baggy clothes bought at an Indonesian street market.

"I'm not English." Sledge replied.

"Yes, but you know what I mean. You roast beefs are all the same. Come to France and call us froggies and expect us to speak English." He laughed turning to his mates.

"Legion Etrangere." Sledge said pulling up his sleeve showing his Foreign Legion Para tattoo.

Their attitude went from smart-ass to respectful.

"My friend would like to have a go if you don't mind." He pointed to the slackline.

"Avec plaisir mon ami!" The Frenchman ushered Piper over to the slackline.

"No, seriously. I can't do it, Sledge!" Giggled Piper.

"Yes, you can. Come on Piper, give it a try at least." He stood next to her as she lifted herself up to the line holding her hand.

"Stand next to me!" Piper stood on the tightrope wobbling from side to side.

"Look ahead and walk, don't look down." Sledge said reaching up holding her hip.

Step by step Piper walked from one end of the line to the other, almost.

"Catch me, Sledge!" Two paces from the end she lost her balance. Dangling in mid-air Piper fell into his outstretched arms.

He grabbed her and caught a whiff of her perfume.

He could have let her down, but he held her a few seconds longer. She had her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders.

"Bravo! Les amoureux!" They yelled.

"Merci et bonne continuation mes amis." Sledge shook their hands.

"Where do you come from in France? Piper smiled as they were about to walk away.

"We are from a town near Avignon, a small little village called Pont Saint-Esprit. I am sure you have not heard of it." Shaking his head, the baggy trouser-clad Frenchman lifted himself up onto the slack line.

"Le Pain Maudite, I have read a few stories about what happened there in the summer of 1951. It was terrible." Piper looked up at the Frenchman balancing tentatively on the thin slack line.

Losing his concentration, the Frenchman flayed his arms around in the air trying to regain his balance. His friends hollered and whooped as he hit the ground.

"You know of this, blondie?" Lying flat on his back on the grass the Frenchman looked up at Piper.

"It was terrible, my grandfather was a young man at the time. He never really got over the, how do you say? Affliction."

"Please carry on, I have read many documents pointing to the fact that it was possibly an intervention by someone else. The baker was not responsible." Piper looked at the Frenchman who for a moment seemed unsure whether or not he should divulge his family history to a complete stranger.

She looked at him, he seemed to sense that she was genuine.

"Let's have a coffee at the café." He pointed to the café at the end of what locals called the beach. An old tea room with a golden crown next to the playground for children at the lakefront.

Sledge and the Frenchman ordered a black coffee with two sugars. Piper sipped her hot chocolate.

"My grandfather lived in Pont Saint-Esprit his whole life, as did his family before him. He was twenty-one years old at the time of the affliction. He went down to the bakery as usual in the morning. He bought a baguette and had his coffee with the bread." The Frenchman sipped at his coffee.

"He spoke to me about it a few times when I was growing up. He was about to go to work when he felt a strange sensation. He said that his whole body began shaking and that he had hot flushes and felt really ill."

"Then what happened?" Piper asked.

"Well, he began feeling as if fiery serpents were crawling along his body. He was short of breath and felt as if he was in another world. The hallucinations were terrible." He brushed his fingers through his dreadlocks.

"My grandfather told me that his entire body seemed to burn, his mind raced. He saw vivid images, the things nightmares are made of in the street, in his apartment."

"Throughout the village people began exhibiting signs of mentally ill behaviour. One of his friends tried to jump out of a window. Another slit his wrists. Almost everyone went mental." He shook his head.

"This was at the height of the Cold War between the communists and the west. There was later a question or how do you say an inquest?"

"What was the inquest about?" Sledge asked as he finished his coffee.

"Some people came to the village during and then after the incident. There were at least five deaths. People jumped out of the windows. Can you imagine being afflicted by something you no not what it is and then seeing your friends kill themselves?" He asked shaking his head.

"There were at least five deaths as I have said, thirty people hospitalised. There were dozens of people interned in psychiatric hospitals and put into straight jackets." He stared at the old steamship Earnslaw returning to port with dozens of people lining the gunwales taking photos on their phones as they entered Queenstown.

"Oh, my God Sledge. How would anyone feel if they saw their friends and relatives go off of their heads and they felt weird at the same time?" Piper rolled her eyes.

"I remember reading that it was blamed on the bread. "Pain Maudite" or the cursed bread as the story went in the beginning." Looking at the Frenchman, Piper eyed him with sympathy.

"Imagine if you will. All you are doing is having breakfast. Your neighbours and friends are having terrible hallucinations. You see serpents crawling over your body. You can feel the fire of their bite. Hours later you are in the hospital and see your friends in a straight jacket going crazy. How do you comprehend such a thing?" The Frenchman raised his hands in the air.

"This all happened on the seventeenth of August nineteen fifty-one. The symptoms attributed to the sick were nausea, runny tummies and burning stomachs. Not to mention the hallucinations."

"My grandfather was put into a ward where there were the worst cases. The regular medical staff in the village were all afflicted with the sickness so etrangers, foreigners were in their place. They all spoke English. My grandfather said they were "Ricans", Americans."

He stared over the lake watching two kayakers take to the water.

"There was an incident in America which was blamed on the same thing. It was in Salem where the witch-hunts happened." Piper suddenly blurted out.

"The famous story called "The Crucible "written about the witch-hunt there." Piper knew that Sledge would know about the story.

"In the Salem witch-hunts, the people displayed the same symptoms. This was attributed to the wheat which was grown in certain areas of Salem. It was called Ergo poisoning. Ergotism is caused by the fungus Claviceps Purpurea, which affects rye, wheat and other cereal grasses. When first infected, the flowering head of grain will spew out sweet, yellow-coloured mucus, called "honeydew," which contains fungal spores that can spread the disease. Eventually, the fungus invades the developing kernels of grain, taking them over with a network of filaments that turn the grains into purplish-black sclerotia. Sclerotia can be mistaken for large, discoloured grains of rye. Within them are potent chemicals such as ergot alkaloids, including lysergic acid, L.S.D is made from this. The alkaloids affect the central nervous system and cause the contraction of smooth muscles. Most important it is the muscles that make up the walls of veins and arteries, as well as the internal organs." She stared at the still waters of Lake Wakatipu. For a moment she wondered if either Sledge or the Frenchman had understood what she had said.

"We all know of the witch-hunts in Salem and the results of what happened there, but I suppose we blame the person or what we perceive to be the enemy at the time for the disaster. The devil was to blame in Salem. In Pont Saint-Esprit, firstly the bread which the baker made after he received a batch of grey coloured wheat was to blame. They blamed the baker, but recent investigations point the finger at the C.I.A for what happened instead."

"Merci bebe. That was what everyone thought." Sledge raised his eyebrow when he heard the Frenchman call Piper bebe which translated into baby or babe."

"My grandfather told me that Englishmen were standing around his bed when he was in the hospital. He did not differentiate between Americans or English. They took all kinds of samples and medical information from him and those afflicted."

"From what we have heard it was the C.I.A, attempting to do a mind control experiment on an entire village. What if the substance or L.S.D had been introduced into the water supply of a large city during the cold war? Would the people in the town or city be totally disabled and an invasion afterwards by conventional means been more assured of victory?" The Frenchman asked.

"Possibly, it seems it was a type of experimental chemical warfare. Thank goodness it never happened." Sledge said taking the bill from the waitress. He paid, dropped a tip for the waitress and walked toward the door.

"Do you believe in synchronicity or Karma Sledge?" She tugged at his hand.

Taking her hand in his, Sledge looked at her.

"Merci for the coffee mon ami." The Frenchman smiled at Sledge. He kissed Piper on the cheek as was the custom in France. Returning to his friends, he jumped up onto the slack-line again.

"Yes, in a way I do," Sledge admitted.

"We are deeply involved in a mind control situation at the moment, and we bump into a person who has a family member that was a victim of some crazy mind control experiment. How weird is that?" She snuggled up to Sledge as they walked along the beach front.

"Really weird Piper, maybe your Wiccan Gods are guiding us." She looked at him wondering if he was being sarcastic. He seemed to take her seriously.

"Maybe we are taking things too far, perhaps this is not as bad as it seems." Sledge realised that he felt very comfortable in her company.

"Let's go back to the car Sledge. Thanks for a great time tonight."

Turning into the street where she lived, Piper slowed down.

"Did you see that Sledge?"

"See what? No sorry, I was checking my phone to see if Orcus had sent any more messages." He slipped his phone into his top pocket and scanned the street.

"I could have sworn I saw that black van from this morning was turning down the opposite side of the street." Pulling up outside, she looked at her small apartment.

"Somethings wrong Sledge, I can feel it."

"Wait, do you have a premonition? Was it written in the tea leaves or did you see it in your Tarot cards?" He laughed.

"Very funny!" Punching his shoulder, Piper giggled.

"Jesus!" she blurted.

"Jesus? Do you have a direct line to the man upstairs?" His smile faded seeing her point to the wide-open door.

Chapter 5

"Who could have done this?" Piper cried.

"My small apartment has been turned upside down. Clothes, books, all my most personal belongings scattered across the room. "

No sign of forced entry. Does anyone else have a key, your boyfriend or someone?" She shook her head. "No, and I am not seeing anyone at the moment either." Sledge nodded secretly relieved to hear she did not have a boyfriend.

Hurriedly, Piper shoved clothes and other necessities into a backpack. Walking out to the car Sledge felt the adrenaline rushing through his body. They drove down the street where Sledge lived. A black van was barely visible partially hidden under a tree in the soft glow of a street lamp.

"Turn off the headlights and wait here. I'm going to pay our friends a little visit." Opening the car door, he was about to get out when Piper grabbed his arm.

"No, leave them, we know they have guns. Please, Sledge, let's go through to the cabin. The death of Connelly, the photos, they are all pointing to something bigger. Let's go back to the cabin, Mr.s Mac Dougal must have a computer at the Homestead. What's on the memory stick might be vitally important." He hesitated for a second then got back into the car closing the door.

"I feel so violated, why did those creeps have to rummage through everything I own?" She held the steering wheel tightly.

"They must be looking for something Piper. They will be doing the same thing at my place right this very moment. I don't feel too good about it either."

Turning into the Homestead, Piper drove slowly minimising the noise of the car driving over the gravel. Most of the lights were off. No-one was visible in the entrance hall.

Sitting at the reception desk, Sledge slipped the memory stick into the computer port. Downloading the file, he printed out the two pages saved on the memory stick. Sledge then pushed the memory card from his camera into the computer port using an adaptor. Quickly he downloaded a photo file before sending it off to the e-mail address of their mysterious contact Orcus along with the two pages on the memory stick.

"What happens now?"

"I don't know Piper. Perhaps this is all we have to do." He shrugged but knew they were in it for a while longer.

Piper knocked a wooden pole with a heavy metal object on top.

"Quiet Piper, we don't want to disturb the old couple." He whispered

"What the hell is this? It looks like a banner or something" She bent down to examine the cloth covered object she had stumbled over behind the desk.

"It looks like a replica of a Roman army standard." He replied.

She looked at Sledge then shook her head.

"Roman Legionnaires carried a standard or banner bearing a golden eagle with their unit's number on a red cloth hanging down, pretty much as soldiers do nowadays with a flag. It was a symbol of pride and a rallying point when in battle. See the Roman numerals on the cloth XIV. The Fourteenth Legion."

"Oh, great." She replied not the least bit interested.

"Okay, all done. Let's go back to the cabin." He led the way outside.

Lighting a cigarette and pouring a glass of red wine each they looked at the papers he had printed from the memory stick.

"A list of names and a map. There is a grid reference on the side." Sledge pointed to the small map. "From what I can see on this map there is nothing at the grid reference, only open fields and brush."

Running her finger down the list of names Piper gasped. "Two of the names here have been crossed out. James Connelly and Craig Matterson." She stared up at Sledge.

"Do you think the other man in the photos was Craig Matterson Sledge? They one who is now in prison?" Running his fingers through his hair, he looked for names he recognised. "Possibly, know anyone else on the list?" He asked.

"No, some of them might be from around here but not anyone I know personally. There is a separate list down at the bottom. The people on the list all seem to be government officials, movie directors or high-powered people in the business world. Those goons outside your place could be hired contractors wanting to get their hands on the incriminating evidence on the memory stick."

"Imagine you are a politician or business mogul, all that power at your disposal, all that wealth and influence until someone releases evidence of your dirty little secrets. Most of them would easily kill to keep the information from being leaked to the press. It would ruin their reputation. It would start a domino effect as they name others involved to minimise their sentence if they are ever brought to court to face justice." Piper turned to Sledge, a worried look on her face.

"Look there is another picture at the bottom." He tapped her on the arm.

She took a closer look. "It's a woodcut, taken from an antique Hungarian book. Vladu Voda Tzepeshu as it says here."

Sledge stared down at the black and white picture of a richly attired noble. "Don't shrug like that Sledge, you know him well." He smiled at Piper waiting for her to explain.

"Vlad the Impaler or Count Dracula. The real Dracula was a prince who impaled his victims on wooden stakes. The Hollywood version of a bloodsucking, handsome and mysterious vampire only came about much later." Sitting in silence for a moment, Sledge stared at the picture of Vlad the Impaler.

"Not just a pretty face Piper, you are intelligent as well!" He smiled at her.

"Vlad Draculea or Dracula of Romania was a Prince in the fifteenth century. He was from spooky Transylvania." She laughed holding out her hands grabbing Sledge by the neck.

He pulled her onto his lap.

"Vlad's father was in command of the Wallachia region, sworn to protect Christian Europe against the Ottoman Empire. Vlad and his younger brother were hostages. Taken by the Ottoman Sultan and held for years. It was here that according to folklore Vlad and his brother were abused by the Ottoman officials. In the same manner as were those poor boys were abused by Father Connelly and the others." Piper ran her hand through her hair.

"And that is why he impaled his enemies?" Sledge asked.

"Possibly, legend has it he returned to take his father's position. His Father was assassinated for not being aggressive enough against the Ottoman Empire. Instead of joining with the Ottomans against the Christian Europeans as the Sultan had hoped Vlad turned on the Ottoman Empire with a vengeance. After one particularly bloody battle, Vlad left a field of thousands of impaled Ottoman prisoners slowly dying on stakes as a deterrent to the pursuing Ottoman army."

"So later Bram Stoker later based his Gothic novel on our Vlad?" Sledge asked.

"Yes indeed. I studied European History and English Literature at Uni." She smiled.

His cell phone beeped. "Another message?" Piper slipped off of his lap.

"Good job on the photos. You are required to conduct a reconnaissance tomorrow from 14H00 at the grid coordinates on the map like in the old days of your training in the Legion. Rations, vehicle and uniform are to be provided by me. Send a list of other materials needed in one hour." Slamming his drink down on the table Sledge held his hands in his head.

"And what if I don't? Maybe I don't want to be involved in your little games." He messaged back.

There was a short pause before the message icon flashed again. "I had the police release you. I can so easily put you back in a police cell if you don't follow my instructions. You wouldn't want anything happening to the old couple either, would you?"

A shiver ran down his spine. "How the hell do they know we are here? I have heard about people tracking someone through their cell phone." He thought of the Mac Dougal's. They were innocent. They had no part in what was going on.

"What does this all mean Sledge?" She placed her hand on his shoulder. "When I was in the Foreign Legion I was trained as a Sniper shortly after signing up. We were all highly trained in many different specialities, but Sniper was the one at which I excelled. During the training course, we would have to march for miles and miles in the dark to a position indicated on the map." He refilled her glass then he topped up his own.

"Once in position we would hide in the bush and observe the target area for hours on end. Dead tired, hungry and half asleep we watched for the three or four seconds one of our guys dressed as the enemy would step out from a rundown farmhouse or building." He lit another cigarette. "That was the moment. If it were in a war, we would have put a bullet through the target's head. In training, we radioed having spotted the enemy. Most times we were given another target location miles away and did the same thing again and again. For days we were given hardly any food. We were tired, mentally and physically all the time."

"And in the real situation, did you ever have to do it? I mean to shoot someone?" He shrugged. "I have less than an hour to think of what I need. Have you got a pen please?" Piper didn't press the issue further. Handing him a pen and paper, she finished her wine.

"I'm exhausted. Do you mind if I get some sleep?" She yawned. "No, off you go. I'll sleep on the couch. You take the bed." He watched her walk to the shower and close the door.

"Let's see how far they will go to get their desired results." He thought to himself. He began writing down the list of items he would need.

Halfway through compiling the list, Piper walked over to the bed dressed in a snug fitting T-shirt, he looked up at her. She smiled coyly. "If this has anything to shed light on my brother's disappearance I will be forever grateful Sledge." She moved closer to him. "And Sledge, thank you for being a gentleman, you have no idea how good it feels to be treated with respect, by a man."

She ran her fingers through her hair.

"Most of the men here are looking for a quick fling. I don't ever want to be someone's vacation affair. Used and abused and then forgotten when they leave to go back home. That's not for me Sledge."

Bending forward, she kissed him on the cheek. "Sleep well Piper, see you bright and early tomorrow." Trying in vain to put the image of her standing in front of him in her thin T-shirt out of his mind he went back to the list.

Chapter 6

Waking up to the shrill beeping of his cell phone Sledge tumbled off of the couch. "Take a walk with the young lady a mile down the track heading East. You will find all you asked for there." He stared at the message.

Piper yawned and stretched. "What's going on?" She stared at the old clock on the wall. "Six in the bloody morning, you've got to be joking!" Covering her head with a pillow, she dived back under the covers. Sledge showered then shook Piper awake. "We have to go, get dressed. I will meet you outside."

She groaned again.

"You are dribbling all over the pillow Piper, close your mouth when you sleep."

She sat bolt upright.

"No, I am not. I never do." She wiped her mouth.

"You idiot!" she laughed throwing a pillow at Sledge. He ducked out of the way.

"I will see you outside." He said again smiling broadly.

He walked around the cabin looking for footprints or anything out of the ordinary.

"Okay, what's going on Sledge?" Piper stepped outside. "It seems we are going for a walk, about a mile down the track." He pointed to a narrow dirt path threading through the pine forest. They set off in the dawns early light, both wondering what the day would bring.

Hidden in the bush to the side of the track Sledge spotted a brown Land Cruiser.

"This must be the vehicle. Check the wheel hub for the keys." Piper found the keys. "Got them, looks like there is quite a bit of stuff in the car. Is it from your list?" She asked unlocking the door.

"Let's see what we have here. High powered binoculars, night vision goggles, two gillie suits." Piper frowned. "What's a ghillie suit?" Sledge unwrapped what looked like a long bundle of grass and twigs. "You wear it like this." He slipped on the ghillie suit like an overall. He lay down in the grass. "What the hell, I can't even see you from here. You look like a bloody Sasquatch!" She laughed. "Camouflage suit, helps you become invisible." He stood up taking off the ghillie suit.

"There's camo cream, army issue ration packs and what's this?" He reached out for two small envelopes. Their names were both written on the envelopes. "Here's your's Piper." Tearing off the end, Sledge whistled. "There must be at least ten thousand dollars or more in here." Holding up a thick wad of notes he looked at Piper. "I've got the same." Eyes wide with excitement she stuffed the notes into her pocket.

A satellite radio crackled into life on the back seat. The voice sounded metallic, somewhat sinister. "You will find what you asked for and more." The person on the other end used a voice distorter. "Go now to the place marked on the map and break radio silence only when the target has been positively identified. We will call him Mr X. Is that clear?" Sledge pressed the "send" button "Clear." He replied curtly, his military experience kicking in.

Another larger envelope held a photograph of a man in his mid-fifties, another of the red Humvee he drove, and the last was of a four-bedroomed farmhouse. "There is a note attached" Unfolding the note Piper held it between them. "For services rendered so far, $15000 each. More to follow. You will find a high-powered camera in the glove compartment. I will need photos of the surrounding area, visitors and whoever is living at the house."

"Oh my God, Sledge!" Dropping an early edition of the morning paper onto the hood of the vehicle Piper pointed a trembling finger at the headlines.

"Paedophile priest brutally tortured to death!" Under the dramatic headline was a full-page story complete with gruesome photos of the priest's body.

"It doesn't say who the article was written by, nor any credits for the photos. It goes on to describe Father Connelly's sexual abuse and testimonies from many of his victims as well as the list of a few of the names we received last night." Sledge said.

"Do you remember this?" He tapped a picture on the bottom of the page. "It's the Viking picture that we saw yesterday at the café. There is a caption underneath. What does it say?" Piper lit a cigarette, waiting for Sledge to finish reading.

"We tried to tell you, but you did not listen. We cried out for help, but everyone ignored us. Vengeance will be ours. Orcus."

"And right beside it is the picture of Vlad the Impaler. I'm sick to the stomach imagining what might happen next. Do you think Inspector Rees knows something about what seems to be clues pointing to the next murder?" Piper whispered. Hugging her tightly, Sledge opened the Land Cruiser door for her. "We will have to speak to him later."

Driving for just over an hour on the highway heading toward Invercargill, they joked and talked. As they grew closer to the area indicated on the map, Sledge became more serious.

"The area we are supposed to watch is over the hill. Let's hide the Land Cruiser in the trees over there. We'll walk the rest of the way." Cautiously driving the Land Cruiser as deep as possible into the small forest Sledge spread a camouflage net over it.

"Right, I've packed everything into this backpack. Time to get all dressed up." He helped her put on the ghillie suit then took out a small box of camouflage face paint. Dipping his fingers in the thick paint, he daubed Piper's face in shades of green, brown and black. Standing close, he took longer than he usually would applying her camo cream. Looking into her big brown eyes, he gently ran his fingers over her face. She stared up at him with a twinkle in her eye.

Once he finished, Sledge got himself ready then shouldered the backpack. "Here, take the camera Piper, I will let you know when I see someone. Take photos of the area when we get there, okay?" She nodded feeling a twinge of excitement.

Walking up the hill Sledge held up his hand as they approached the ridgeline. He lay flat signalling Piper to do the same. Slowly they inched forward until they crested the rise. Down below they saw more than an empty field indicated on the map.

"Would you look at that." He whispered. Around two hundred meters further down the gently sloping hill stood the four-bedroomed farmhouse, besides it was a newly built shed. Another one hundred meters further on Sledge scanned a long building divided up into ten small rooms each facing the lake to the left. A high fence surrounded the entire area with cameras mounted on what looked like a small guard house at the gate.

Squinting through the camera lens, Piper took photo after photo. Zooming in on the building with the separate rooms she tapped Sledge on the arm. Lying side by side in the bush Sledge peered at the camera's digital screen. "What the hell?" He whispered. Every room has a spa pool in the front. God knows what else they have here, but it definitely isn't your average sheep farm."

"Well, who do we have here?" See the guard house by the gate? Look who is hanging around outside." Piper gasped, it was the men who had pulled the guns on them in town and tried to force them into the black van.

"Those are the idiots who trashed my place!" Piper whispered.

Long hours passed. Turning to Piper, Sledge smiled when he saw she had fallen asleep. Out of habit, he kept a constant eye on the building. His patience was rewarded when a dozen children emerged from the shed and began playing around in the yard. He nudged Piper's elbow. "I'm awake, really I am." She mumbled. "You're dribbling out the side of your mouth Piper. You fell asleep." He chuckled. Running her hand across her mouth, she playfully elbowed him in the ribs. "Look down there by the shed. Take photos, as many as possible, close-ups of the kids." She snapped away.

"What are they doing all the way out here? This place looks more like a five-star prison than a farm." Her voice trembled with emotion. A bell rang from within the compound. Hurriedly the children rushed back into the shed.

From time to time expensive-looking vehicles would drive up the dirt road leading to the compound. Piper photographed the occupants and the cars. "Do you think this is what I fear it might be Piper?' He turned to look at her. Tears streamed down her face. She sobbed quietly. "I'm afraid I do Sledge. We have to do something for those poor little kids." In the distance a red Humvee roared at high speed down the dirt track, clouds of dust billowed in its wake.

"Looks like our target is here, I wonder if he is the bastard in charge of this place." Reaching for the radio, Sledge peered through the binoculars. Braking sharply the Humvee showered the men at the gate with dust and small stones. Swinging the gates wide open the men brushed the dirt from their faces.

Piper snapped photos of the man climbing out of the Humvee. "It's him alright." Breaking radio silence for the first time Sledge announced the arrival of Mr X. "Perfect, now listen closely." Replied the distorted, metallic voice.

Heading back to the vehicle Sledge and Piper ate a hurried meal of cold beans and biscuits. Sinking slowly below the horizon, the sun's handed over dominion to the full moon.

"Wow! This is so amazing. I can see as clear as day with these." Looking left and right Piper adjusted the brightness on her night vision goggles. "It takes a bit of getting used to in the beginning, especially seeing everything in weird shades of green." He let the Land Cruiser freewheel down the dirt track toward the compound.

With the engine off they managed to roll to within a few meters of the thicket bordering onto the back fence.

"What do we do now Sledge?"

"We patiently sit and watch." At two in the morning, nothing stirred. Occasionally they caught sight of rabbits or possums foraging for food. He stood on the roof of the Land Cruiser observing the wooden deck built onto the rear of the farmhouse. Piper waited for his signal. Sledge had earlier slipped silently under cover of night to cut a hole in the wire perimeter fence.

Twenty minutes later Sledge tensed, the light on the deck was switched on. He gave Piper a nod. Picking up the radio she held her breath, this was utter madness, but she believed Sledge could do it. A figure stood in the doorway fumbling in his pocket. Stepping out of the shadows into the light, he puffed on a cigarette staring absentmindedly out into the dark. Tapping her gently on the shoulder Sledge gave her the thumbs up. "Eyes on target, moving in." She spoke softly into the radio. "Affirmative." Was all the mysterious person on the other end replied.

By the time she looked up, Sledge had already entered the compound through the gap in the wire. Crouched low he moved swiftly toward the deck staying in the shadows all the time. "He is so agile. Sledge is like a lion stalking its prey." Piper thought, watching him slip silently to the side of the farmhouse. For a second her heart missed a beat. Mr X walked to the end of the deck staring at where Sledge had been seconds before. She no longer had eyes on Sledge. "Where is he?"

Slowly Mr X turned around and began pacing toward the other side of the deck.

Darting around the corner onto the deck Sledge crept up on Mr X. Piper bit her nails watching Sledge get to within two feet of him undetected. Wapping, his arm around Mr X's neck Sledge, simultaneously kicked Mr X in the back of the knee, dropping him to the floor. Sledge held his grip around Mr X's neck for a few seconds longer. Mr X suddenly ceased his frantic struggling. His body lay limp on the deck.

He gave her the thumbs up while he secured Mr X's legs and hands with cable ties. Grabbing him under the arms, he hoisted the deadweight over his shoulder. Piper jumped out of the Land Cruiser rushing to help Sledge. Throwing Mr X onto the back seat none too gently, Sledge got into the driver's seat. "Well done Piper, we got the scumbag." Flooded by feelings of relief he hugged her across the gap between the seats. "You did it all Sledge, not me, well done to you. I'm impressed." She leant forward and planted a kiss on his cheek. "Ugh, I forgot you were wearing camo cream. It tastes like shit!" She blurted, smiling warmly.

Her mood suddenly changed. "Is Mr..X dead?" She glanced at the body slumped on the seat. "No, I cut off the blood supply to his brain. If you time it right they lose consciousness for a few minutes." Piper looked at Sledge. "And if you don't and you keep them in a stranglehold too long what happens?" She knew the answer before Sledge shrugged his shoulders.

Driving slowly, they reached an old shed a mile down the road without turning on the headlights. "Bloody marvellous things these night sights" He reached for the radio. "Target delivered." There was a brief crackle of static then the metallic voice replied. "Confirm target delivered." Sledge pressed the "send" button. "That's a positive, Mr X delivered." He waited for a moment before dragging the unconscious man from the back seat.

As arranged, Sledge secured Mr X to a wooden beam with a length of rope. "Proceed to the compound. The police will be arriving in approximately ten minutes. Change the frequency to the police channel. Your friend Inspector Rees is awaiting your call."

"God damn it, what the hell! He never said anything about Rees or a police raid. But I suppose that is the only way to rescue the children." Slamming his fist against the dashboard Sledge drove toward the compound.

"Rees, this is Sledge. Do you copy?" Waiting on the dirt track Sledge searched for the lights of an approaching vehicle. "Sledge this is Rees, we are two minutes from your location. I have no idea what this is all about, but by God, it had better be worth it, for your sake." The radio went dead.

Rees had taken yet another gamble. With time running out he had rightly predicted that Sledge would become more involved in the affair as things progressed.

Inspector Rees had assembled a quick reaction team earlier that evening and driven down to Sledge's last know position. The droning metallic voice on the other end of the line a few hours ago had confirmed his hunch. They were on the right track. Impatiently Rees waited for Sledge to contact him as the anonymous voice over the phone had said he would.

Chapter 7

Five police vehicles came to a halt next to their Land Cruiser. Sledge recognised the well-built silhouette of Rees in the headlights jumping out of the lead vehicle. Storming to the driver side window, he shoved his head through the window. "Right, let's have it. What the hell is going on? I have dragged out half the police force in the area. This had better not be a wild goose chase Sledge." Yanking open the car door he motioned to Sledge to get out.

Clicking through the photos on the camera Sledge explained what they had seen, leaving out the part when they had abducted Mr X. Rees briefed the police team before driving slowly down the dirt track to minimise engine noise.

"You two wait here, and what the hell do you have camo paint all over your faces for?" Rees shone the torch in their faces. "Bloody hell, off to a fancy-dress party, are we?" He pointed to their camouflage uniforms and boots. "Nah mate, we were going duck hunting when we stumbled on this place." Sledge replied sarcastically.

Driving up to the gate, Rees flashed the torch while a policeman cut the padlock. Swinging open the gates the police vehicles drove into the compound splitting up into small groups so they would be able to cover all of the buildings.

Minutes ticked slowly. Sledge stared at the compound watching the police searching each building. "Who are they?" Piper pointed to three scantily dressed women protesting loudly. Half an hour later Rees stormed back to the car.

"What the hell are you playing at Sledge?" He slammed his hand down hard on the car bonnet. "Nothing there except a bunch of high-class prostitutes and a couple of pimps. This is a place where wealthy businessmen come to for a massage and spa, and extras." He added.

"Didn't you find the kids Inspector, you have seen them on the camera." Piper gasped. "Nothing, nothing at all. Did you photoshop them into the photos?" He turned to glare at Piper, but she was already running through the open gates. "Bloody hell, stop her!" he shouted, but it was too late.

Bursting through the farmhouse door, Piper came face to face with the three prostitutes. Sledge bolted after her followed by Rees and two police officers.

"Where are they you sluts? Where are the kids?" Piper pulled open a wooden cupboard. "Are you out of your mind, you bitch?" A prostitute who seemed to be the Madame in charge pushed Piper aside. "Get her out of here, or we will lay a complaint against the police department. We have some very influential customers, you know." Sledge moved between Piper and the prostitute.

"They are here Sledge, I know it. Listen carefully." Holding up her hand, Piper pressed her ear to the wall. "Right, I've had enough nonsense from you two bloody clowns. Get back to the vehicle now!" Rees grabbed Sledge by the arm shoving him toward the door. A policewoman advanced toward Piper menacingly. "No, they are here!" Piper screamed. One of the prostitutes looked down for the second time at the large coffee table standing on a rug in the middle of the room.

Desperately evading the policewoman, Piper overturned the oak table. Seconds later the policewoman pushed Piper down onto the rug attempting to cuff her hands behind her back. Reaching out Piper flung the corner of the carpet over. "Look there. Let me go damn it!"

Rees stared at the trapdoor previously undetected. "What's down there?" He growled. "Nothing, only old furniture." Visibly shaken the prostitute stood on the trapdoor. "Get off right now, or you will be charged with obstructing justice." Ordered the policewoman. Standing her ground, the prostitute stared at the policewoman. "Oh, damn it!" Piper muttered.

Spinning around, she slammed her elbow into the prostitute's jaw. Reeling backwards under the violent force of the blow the prostitute fell across the overturned table. Sledge yanked at the metal bolts securing the trapdoor flinging it open.

"Stand aside. I'm going in first." Rees pushed past Sledge and dropped straight down. The sound of furniture breaking came from the depths of the trapdoor entrance. "Might want to use the ladder, nothing here but old junk!" He shouted out from below. Sledge shook his head. He was sure the children were still on the compound grounds.

He climbed down the ladder with Piper following closely. "Turn your torch off Inspector." Sledge tapped Rees on the shoulder. For a second, they stood in the dark. "There, see that sliver of light, at the far end?" Pushing past Rees, Sledge tapped on the far wall. He aimed a heavy kick at the wooden wall. His foot went through the timber. "All brawn and no brains, why not open the door?" For the first time since they arrived at the compound, Piper smiled. She slid back two heavy metal bolts from the catches.

Rees fumbled for a light switch on the wall. For a second all three stared in horror at the two rows of narrow beds. At least a dozen children stared in terror at the people bursting into their dank and cramped room. "Arrest the bastards up there now, each one of them!" Rees screamed into his radio. Heavy footsteps echoed on the wooden floor above followed by the sound of scuffling.

One by one the unnaturally quiet children emerged from the trapdoor entrance. Shuffling together the children looked toward the prostitutes for instructions. "Take them away, call an ambulance and a Forensic team now," Rees ordered roughly handcuffing one of the pimps. "Can we add attempted kidnapping and housebreaking to their list of charges Inspector?" Sledge asked. He explained how Piper's house had been burgled.

"Let's get the kids sorted out first Sledge. Then we can look at other charges for this lot." Rees nodded. "Good on you mate, well done for tonight." He said it so softly that both Piper and Sledge wondered if they had imagined it.

"How did you know where to find us, Rees?" Sledge quietly whispered. "At first I thought it was a prank. I received a call a couple of hours ago, someone using a voice distorter. He called himself Orca or something like that." Sledge listened intently. "I went to the patrol car parked outside and found a radio on the back seat. They gave me instructions to meet you here. Said it was a matter of life and death." He clapped Sledge on the shoulder. "Don't think that you are a hero Sledge, there is still a homicide investigation, and you are one of the prime suspects."

Rees watched Sledge and Piper drive off in a cloud of dust. His gamble had paid off. The results were unexpected but extremely rewarding all the same.

Chapter 8

"That Rees is a right bastard. We led him to a major crime scene, and he still treats us like shit." Sledge shook his head in disbelief. Sitting in the vehicle Sledge looked at the small printout of the map he had copied.

"What do you think Sledge?" Piper pointed her slender finger to the farmhouse nearby marked out.

"You say that Robert and his mates used to build houses for people in this area. Should we see if there is any connection between the farmhouse and what was going on here." He nodded his head toward the compound.

"Yes, I think we should at least check the place out. What if it has some connection with the compound?" Piper suddenly wondered if she would be incriminating her brother in some way.

"If someone is there we will pretend that we are tourists lost on their way. If not then we search the bloody place." Sledge slammed the vehicle into gear.

Piper scanned the exterior of the cabin. Hidden in a dip in the valley the small prefabricated house could not be seen from the dirt track road. Trees towered above and the thick brush rendered the small structure almost invisible.

"Stay close. We go through the rear entrance, Piper." Sledge slipped toward the back door. He checked the door. It was unlocked.

"Let's go, babe." Calmly they walked into the kitchen area.

"Anyone home?" Piper called out. Her words echoed through the empty rooms. It smelled of damp and mildew. Sunlight crept through tattered mesh curtains.

Walking through the kitchen Sledge took a few steps down the passage.

"No-one here Piper, check the other rooms."

"Nothing at all Sledge, but this room looks weird." Standing in what looked like the living room Piper pressed close to a glass interior window, which would usually never be in such a position.

"Oh my God Sledge!" Piper stepped backwards. Rushing to her side, he scanned the room.

"The whole place is set out in rustic orange and brown shades as they did in the eighties. Who could have had such bad taste?" She ran to the toilet looking for a knitted toilet seat warmer. They continued down the dimly lit passageway.

"This is strange. There is a room on the other side. Can you find the door?" She looked at the layout of the room.

"Nothing here except a bookshelf with old books." Running his hands over the old musty books, Sledge peered toward the hidden room.

"Try finding a book or something like they do in the movies to trigger a secret doorway opening." She muttered smiling at the thought.

"Nah, too much trouble." Sledge kicked a hole in the gib board wall. After a few attempts, the gap was large enough for him to squeeze through.

Piper and Sledge gazed in horror at the leather strips attached to an operating table. High powered lights and a multitude of medical drips and discarded syringes littered the room. Piper tugged at a metal filing cabinet.

Browsing through the papers, she pulled a file from the folders in the drawer.

"This is all about the priests who were sent to pray and reflect on their sins, Sledge. There are a few names that I am not familiar with, but it mentions here, something about a Cardinal Richards and Arch Bishop Ritter." Sledge stood beside Piper reading the typewritten documents.

"Who the hell uses a typewriter in this day and age?" He said looking at the papers.

"These are the dates when the priests were admitted and the length of their rehabilitation periods. Look at the columns in the margin. It indicates the length of time spent in a chamber. What do you think they mean when describing a chamber?" She looked at the small room which had that hospital smell seeping from the walls.

"I don't know but take a look at this." He turned on a strobe light. A bright light flashed across the room. Discarded syringes littered the floor.

"The dates don't correspond with the time spent in the compound." Piper pointed to the dates and names of Ritter and Richards. They were missing in action for at least two weeks."

"Do you think that they were abducted from Mr X' place or even on their way to Mr X and brainwashed here?" Piper asked running her hands along an electric cable leading to the chair.

"How can they do such a thing to another human being?" She stood looking at the torture apparatus.

"I had heard stories in the Legion, then read up further about the incidents which were actual documented fact. The Viets marched the prisoners from Dien Bien Phu, which was a terrible battle. The Viets badly outnumbered the Legion and the French Regulars. Well, the prisoners of war marched past a village where a bearded man clad only in his tattered combat jacket barked at them like a dog. One of the men stated that from the cut of his combat vest he must have been Special Forces captured two or three years prior. The Viets had turned his mind to the point where he thought he was a guard dog. Had it not been for the chain restraining him he would have bitten them. Out of the 10 300 prisoners taken fewer than 3000 ever returned home to their families. Most of the prisoners were summarily executed or died because of lack of medical treatment and the forced marches to the Viet detention camps." Sledge had a sadness in his eyes she had not yet seen.

"If ever that poor guy was set free at the end of France's involvement in Indochina, what would his mental state be? How would he have ever fitted into normal society after an experience like that? How do you undo all that someone has changed to a person's mental state?"

Piper shuddered. This was so far removed to the world in which she had been accustomed.

"Here we have another load of typewritten papers Sledge."

He walked over to where Piper flittered through a reef of papers.

"I have been sent here. To confess my sins." The words were written in black ink.

"Like those before me, Arch Bishop Ritter and Cardinal Richards, I Father James Connelly am here to reflect on my so-called indiscretions. How am I supposed to conceal my attraction to the male form when each time I look up at the statue of Jesus on the cross I see a taught man naked except for a small loincloth wrapped around his waist?"

"What do I do when I am swimming with adolescent boys, and they change into their swimwear in front of me?"

Piper read the words out loud.

"I am attracted to the male form, how would a heterosexual male feel if all he saw around him was figurines and painting of naked girls? How would he feel if he was to take a dozen young women swimming and they all changed clothes in front of him?"

"This is written by Connelly. What happened when he was here?" Piper carried on reading while Sledge searched the premises.

"Check this out, babe. I can hardly decipher this, but it is handwritten. Signed at the bottom by Connelly himself." Sledge pressed closer to the scrawl written in what looked like blood on the wall.

She stooped forward then began running his hand over the names written in a dark red substance.

"These are those responsible." He scanned the meaningless names until he reeled back in shock.

"What are you doing Sledge?" Running toward him Piper gripped his hand. Sledge's finger was poised above the name Robert Harrington.

"I don't believe it. He must have imagined the name. It can't be Robert." Sliding down to the floor Piper stared at the names.

"What could Robert have done, why would he ever do anything to harm someone?" She stared around the room with its hospital cleanliness and bright white lights.

"He goes on to say that the list of names has been forwarded numerous times to the Vatican. Each time the files sent seem to have ended under the slush pile of requests, needs and information relevant to the Holy See."

"If Connelly knew the names of the people involved, those suspected of brainwashing and attacking clergy members and had forwarded them to the Vatican don't you think someone would have picked up on it by now?" Piper asked pushing the papers to the side of the desk.

"Maybe someone knew. but who would have taken it seriously until something happened?" Looking through a drugs cabinet Sledge whistled. Electric wires littered the floor. From above, a blank television screen bore silent witness to the horrors which must have transpired in the room.

"Roberts name might be here, but it does not mean it was him, nor that he had any involvement in whatever happened." Piper murmured.

"Maybe it's a setup, Piper." He held her in his arms knowing that neither of them believed what he had said.

"Robert is mentioned, as one of the ring leaders. What can he be doing at the moment and what has pushed him beyond the norm, crime, murder and torture? It was beyond her for the moment. How did anyone cross the threshold between your average everyday life and a life of torture and murder?"

"I don't know, for now, Piper but whatever it is, do you even manage to imagine what he went through if it is true? That Connelly abused him when he was young. Did you ever pick up on anything?" Thinking back on the times spent with Richards, Sledge couldn't pinpoint a particular time when he might have noticed a change in his friend's behaviour.

"No, not really, except when he did not want to go back to church. He did seem more reserved, more distant when he went to church though. He always had to be there long before the Mass began and then there were the holiday camps he went on." Continuing through the room Piper stumbled upon a file containing photographs of numerous young boys dressed in the vestments of choir boys or altar boys.

"Oh my God Sledge! This was Robert when he was about fifteen years old. What is a photo like that doing here?" Flipping through a bunch of old photographs Piper recognised one or two of the boys as Robert's friends.

"Were these photos used in the brainwashing or are they of the suspects?" She wondered bundling the photos into her pocket.

"As I said before, when do you cross a line and know that you will never be able to assimilate into civilian life again?" She ran her fingers through her hair.

"How was it for you? When did you turn into one of them?" Piper looked at Sledge.

"What do you mean? I have never done anything like this babe."

"What I mean is when did you go from being a normal person to someone who has taken a life?"

"It was never clear cut, and I still don't see myself as a killer or anything like that. We joined the Army. We were trained and sent into situations where it was kill or be killed. All we did was defend ourselves and protect our friends." He didn't like the way the conversation was going.

"And what about your little holidays in Africa after the Legion or in Afghanistan? How can you justify that as fighting for your country or your friends?"

"It was a continuation of the war or the many wars waged for natural resources. When the oil tankers sailed off the coast of Somalia, they were attacked by pirates. The crew were murdered or tortured, held to ransom and kept against their will under terrible conditions for years in some cases." He lit a cigarette then offered her one.

"We rode shotgun on the oil tankers. We watched the Somali skips approaching at fast speed. They were armed to the teeth. We waited until they were close. Then we opened up on them with all we had. The tankers steamed on. The Somalian pirates were left in the shark-infested waters." He stared around the room imagining what must have transpired.

"There was a well-known movie about a heroic Captain of a cargo vessel who was taken hostage by Somalin pirates. Do you know why?"

Piper shook her head.

"The famous Captain was sailing too close to Somalian waters. He had been advised against doing so by the military, but he steered the ship as close to Somalia as possible." Sledge felt his stomach turn at the thought of a Captain purposely putting his vessel and crew in danger.

"He was under orders or took it upon himself to sail so close to where pirates had attacked other vessels because it saved the company a shitload on fuel."

He smiled shaking his head.

"When it all comes down to it, it's the money that counts. Not the crewmen's lives or the possible situation where crew members spend months or years as hostages. It is the bottom line, the dollar sign that counts."

"In Afghanistan, working for Black Water as a private contractor it was the same. Guarding oil supplies and oil pipelines. The only difference between the regular Allied troops and us there was that we were better paid." He stubbed out his cigarette."

"And as we were all veterans, we knew what we were getting ourselves into, Unlike the patriotic new guys."

"There was no dramatic change. It was very subtle. One day you are a recruit, innocent and clueless and then the next you are doing mercenary work because it was better than some dull civilian job. It was all sanctioned by the government. We were doing what they said was right. It was not like what we have here." He nodded at the M.K Ultra equipment in the room.

"I don't know if this is something that I can handle Sledge. Let's go back to the cabin." Leading the way back to the car Piper was quiet. The journey back to Queenstown was one of uncomfortable silence.

"Okay Sledge, tell me how you feel about last night," Piper asked. She began cooking eggs and bacon on the old stove in the cabin. Sledge thought for a moment while he melted the butter for the Béarnaise sauce he prepared to go over the pouched eggs.

"It was cool getting into military mode again, and I miss it. But, in the end, we saved innocent kids from a fate worse than death."

He began toasting four English muffins. "Do you think the prostitutes started like those poor kids?" She remained silent while she fried tomatoes and mushrooms. "What about the implications?" Piper asked as she dropped hash browns into a small pot of boiling oil.

Sledge shrugged. Sledge looked at Piper wondering where this was heading. "Do you realise we are now accessory to kidnapping and possibly murder?" Piper slammed the spatula down on the table.

"What are you going on about? It wasn't us who kidnapped those poor kids."

"I wasn't talking about the children Sledge. I was talking about Mr X" She stared at him

"Oh, him. We were following orders." He replied.

"You might be used to a different set of rules Sledge. You join the army, and they give you full consent to kill and do whatever it takes to do their bidding. But here in civilian life, there are another set of rules. We can't simply abduct someone and leave them to the mercy of a person we know is a psycho killer."

Slamming down two plates she rummaged in the 1960's style cupboard for knives and forks. "This is not a mission to capture an enemy soldier or something. You know there are consequences to your actions. You are being manipulated."

They ate in silence for a while. Sledge felt angry. "Holy shit Piper, what more do you want? We rescued kids, caught the man responsible for their abduction and shut down a paedophile ring capturing the records of the clients. We even uncovered their brainwashing position." He took a deep swig of the Champaign and orange juice which was supposed to be their celebratory drink.

"Right, tell me something, Piper. Those people who held the kid's prisoner, those people who did and allowed others to do the most despicable acts to innocent children, are they governed by the same rules?" He pushed his plate aside. "One rule for them, one rule for us." Sledge stared at her wondering why she did not feel the same way as he did.

"Once you cross over the threshold, once you break free from the norm you see things differently." He poured himself more Champaign.

"Well, as far as I see it you will end up in prison because of someone else. They have their agenda, you are their tool, and you are the one who will suffer the consequences, in the end. Sledge, all I want is to find my brother, Robert. I can't believe that he is involved in this despite his name being written in the cabin down there."

"Oh, really Piper." Sledge drew closer to her. "Tell me something, how do you explain me seeing you at the river just before I discovered the body. And then again when the police arrested me, and we drove past you?" She looked shocked.

"How was it arranged so that we met up right after I had been let out of the police station?" He pointed an accusing finger at Piper. "Even this place, very convenient and of course they remember you from years ago, Mr Mac Dougal and his wife, are they in on it too?" He pushed his plate aside. "What about your brother Robert? Is he the mysterious person leading us on, where did he get the money for all of this?"

Piper stared at Sledge for a moment or two without saying anything then she exploded. "Are you accusing me of being part of the setup, do you think I lured you in simply to use you?" She stood up pushing the chair roughly aside. "You are the one who dragged me into this mess, had I not bumped into you in the street none of this would have happened. Is this some sick game you and your army mates are playing?"

"I remember an article in the newspaper you wrote about a year ago. You covered a story on a father who found out that a priest had abused his son. The father killed the priest and went to court on a murder charge." She drew closer to Sledge.

"The Vatican wanted the father punished to the full extent of the law but refused the justice system access to child abuse files in their possession stating that any irregularities between priests and children were to be handled only by the Vatican. Did you decide to become a vigilante and administer your form of warped justice knowing that the clergy close ranks and protect each other?"

"Only a sick bastard could have killed someone by the Blood Eagle method, have you not seen enough killing and death Sledge?" Her eyes burned with contempt.

"Blood Eagle, what the hell is that Piper? You seem to know a lot about the murder." He watched her body language hoping she would become defensive.

"Bloody hell Sledge, did you ever watch the television series Vikings? They did the blood eagle in one scene. Is it not some symbolism here? They killed someone who had betrayed their people." She shook her head, rolling her eyes in frustration. "The Viking photo you claim to have received, well it is from a painting of Ivarr the Boneless. It is the same picture we saw on the front page of the newspaper." Sledge stared at her blankly.

"It is a depiction of one of the Nordic Sagas. It is called Ragnar's Saga. It describes in great detail how Ivarr the Boneless executed the Northumbrian king Aella when the king attacked his stronghold in the town of York in the year 867." She gazed out of the window watching the trees swaying in the breeze. "Do you know how Ivarr killed Aella?" She waited impatiently for an answer. "Well I'll tell you Sledge, he died a long and painful death known as the Blood Eagle!"

Walking toward the door, Piper shot Sledge a withering glance. "I am going to go home, Sledge. I don't want anything more to do with this sordid affair. I was happy in my little world. Let me be and don't come knocking on my door, ever." Dropping her unfinished breakfast into the sink, Piper gathered up the small number of personal belongings she had and rushed through the door. He sat in stunned silence then the door burst open. "Take your filthy money too! You are a dumb brainwashed mercenary!" A wad of notes hit Sledge on the chest.

"Well as far as I am concerned its game set and match. The pervert killed the priest in a jealous rage, and it's over." He stabbed his knife into the table. "We both know the idiot dressed as an altar boy-like something out of a horror movie killed him, and the police have him in custody. End of story."

"Oh, is it Sledge? What about your friend Orcus or Mr X?"

Piper stormed out of the cabin speeding off in her car.

"Too easy, she knows too much about the murder. Robert built or renovated homes in the very same area the children were being held, prisoner. Seems a little fishy to me." Sledge thought. He walked out to the land cruiser.

Climbing into the driver's seat, he wondered what course of action he should take. Fumbling for the keys in his pocket, he lit a cigarette then roughly shoved the key in the ignition. He thought about driving to Piper's house. There were still a few questions he had for her. For a fleeting second, he wondered if he should go to Inspector Rees and find out what he thought about the whole affair. Sledge decided on neither option. Instead, he opened the door and climbed out of the vehicle. He dropped his cigarette butt on the loose sand at his feet before crushing it underfoot.

Staring down at the marks in the sand Sledge noticed boot prints around the vehicle. He pressed his boot firmly in the sand then looked at the imprint. The prints around the car were about two sizes larger with a different pattern on the sole.

He froze. Thoughts of tracking enemy fighters in the deserts of Africa by following their footprints resurfaced. Cautiously he circled the vehicle. Apart from the coming and going of the prints, the majority of tracks were around the hood of the car. Sledge lay on the ground. Wriggling forward, he inspected the bottom of the vehicle. "Damn it, what the hell have we here?"

He stared at a block of plastic explosives taped to the bottom of the vehicle under the driver's seat. He followed the wires leading from the detonator to the car battery. Slowly he unwound the wires, pulling the detonator from the block of explosives. He looked closely at the detonator. "Bloody idiots!" He threw the thin metal bolts wrapped in tin foil on the ground. "Who would wire explosives to a car and then use fake detonators?" Sliding under the entire length of the vehicle Sledge hurriedly inspected the chassis for signs of additional explosives. Finding none, he wiped the sweat from his face. "Someone is sending me a message, a warning" He sat there in the dirt mentally going through a list of suspects.

Following the tracks, he headed a few hundred feet into the bush where the tracks were lost in the tall green grass. Returning to the cabin Sledge polished off the remaining Champaign then lay down on the unmade bed. Drained from the recent events he slept soundly. It was dark outside when he woke.

Rummaging through the fridge, he made himself a sandwich and grabbed a packet of chocolates out of the cupboard, washing the meal down with two Bourbons and Coke. Sledge could not stop thinking of Piper.

He hoped like hell the police would not be running random roadblocks with breathalyser tests as they so often did. He was still perfectly sober, but the alcohol content on his breath would set the breathalysers buzzing.

Driving up to Piper's house Sledge scanned the perimeter out of habit. He flicked his cigarette butt out of the window then pulled into her driveway. Wondering what her reaction to seeing him again would be Sledge rang the doorbell. He was not sure even if she would be home, it was after eleven at night, perhaps she was out on the town.

Footsteps echoed down the wooden passageway. Piper's face appeared in the window beside the door for a second. Pushing the door, open Piper walked back down the hall without a word.

"Okay Piper, I am sorry, and I think we both reacted badly under pressure. There was something you said which set me thinking about everything that has happened and why." He walked down the passage to where she set about making tea.

"You said we were brainwashed soldiers. Maybe the murderers were brainwashed too." She looked at him questioningly. Sledge nodded as she held up a cup. Holding up two fingers Piper scooped two spoons of sugar into his cup.

"I'm trying to pack everything back after the mess those guys made here. I don't have much time Sledge." Piper stated coldly.

"There is a process called M.K Ultra. It alters the mind of the victims rendering them susceptible to instructions from their handler, even to the extent where they will commit murder and not even blink an eye." Piper poured the tea then nodded toward the couch. Sinking into the soft couch Sledge sipped his tea before continuing.

"And why should I believe you Sledge, maybe this is just another excuse to cover up your psychotic behaviour?" Dropping a tin box of Macadamia nut shortbread biscuits on the table between them, Piper waited for his reply.

"It started in the early fifties. A Canadian doctor by the name of Donald Cameron began a series of test on unwilling patients. These tests consisted of correcting schizophrenia by erasing existing memories and reprogramming the mind of the patients.

Piper dunked a biscuit into her tea then swore as part of it broke off and meandered aimlessly in her cup.

"His experiments on willing and mostly unwilling patients consisted of drug-induced comas, for weeks at a time. He was playing the same repetitive comments over and over again. Most of the patients lost part of their memory, became incontinent and even forgot who their parents were. Clear instructions replaced this void." He set his empty teacup aside and walked out onto the deck to light a cigarette.

"What happened to these poor people Sledge?' Piper walked out onto the deck and stood beside him.

"Cameron used electroshock treatment and drugs such as L.S.D which had terrible effects on the patients. But by totally breaking his patients down psychologically and mentally he was able to force them to obey certain instructions."

"The C.I.A was using his research if we can call it that to train people. They succeeded in programming a woman to shoot another when a command was given, which she did. Hundreds of people were brainwashed in this manner." He dropped the cigarette butt into a tin can on the balcony.

"Another method was to submerge a subject in water set to the same temperature as the human body once they had been subjected to physical torture and drugs. They were left to float in a blackened-out diving mask with earphones and an air supply. Imagine being weightless, no sensation of temperature or feelings. All of your senses are null and void. Then you hear a voice in the dark as you wake from your drug induced stupor commanding you to do something you would never normally do. Would you think that you are dead and hear the voice of angels, or even God?"

"These guys did what can only be termed as the scientific foundation for the CIA's two-stage psychological torture method," He clenched his fists. "This is first to create a state of disorientation in the subject, and then secondly producing a situation of "self-inflicted" discomfort in which the disoriented subject can alleviate their pain by capitulating."

"You know that we are being brainwashed all the time?' Sledge said.

Looking up in surprise, Piper waited for Sledge to reveal the next shocking disclosure.

"When you go to the supermarket, what do you see?" He smiled. "Go through the aisles, all you see is packaged produce promoting health benefits, sugar-free, low carb bullshit. Look at the quiet space, the aisle on the outside. That is where you find the real nourishment. The fresh fruit and vegetables. Natural and pure but with no banner headlines and marketing. I'm not a bloody Vegan, but even I know the difference between chemically enhanced products and the food our ancestors ate for thousands of years before big business took over the market."

"Okay, I think I might trust you now. I am sorry I suspected you of being somehow involved in an elaborate hoax to do your bidding." Sledge laughed "And I too am sorry for thinking that you are using me for your ends." She smiled. "And you know that I am right, don't you?"

"Oh, and I suppose when we are married, you will hope I say, yes dear, you are right dear all the time." He joked. She looked at Sledge in a way he had not seen previously. "If and when that day comes, remember what you said." She laughed.

I have something for you. I got the tickets online. I wanted to surprise you at breakfast, but it didn't turn out as I had imagined." Dropping two tickets onto the table, Piper watched his astonishment turn to excitement.

"Holy shit, two tickets to the Rugby match in Dunedin tomorrow night, at Forsyth Barr Stadium. New Zealand versus France!" Jumping up, he wrapped his arms around her. "Bloody hell woman, you sure know how to make a bloke happy!" He kissed her on the cheek.

"But before we go down to Dunedin for the Rugby match, tonight I have been thinking about things." She looked into his eyes.

"Do you dare go into the lair of the beast Sledge?" Playfully tugging at his sleeve, Piper smiled. She pointed at the church spire visible in the moonlight.

"Not exactly what I had been hoping you were thinking about, but hell yes." He replied.

Chapter 9

Cold air drafted through the open door, it's rusted hinges creaking. Moonlight illuminated the long aisle with its wooden pews on either side. Sledge looked up at the stone carvings "So, when was the last time you attended Mass Sledge? "Piper nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. He smiled mischievously.

"At least twelve or thirteen years ago." Piper opened the fridge. She placed two beers on the table then sat down.

"My mother was left-handed, she went to the Convent. The Sisters were all clad in their full regalia. Penguins was what the kids called the Nuns behind their backs. They said it was a sign of the devil when she wrote with her left hand. They then proceeded to smack her with a wooden cane over the knuckles each time she wrote left-handed." He shook his head.

"This torture, as I see it left her with a permanent scar. She had fits of fainting for the rest of her life." Sledge looked down, he continued. "My mother gave birth to three children. My sister was the youngest. There were complications. She nearly died. It was at the time when the church held all sanction and guided the common people on what to do and how to live their lives." For a moment he stared into the distance.

"My Father asked the parish priest if my mother could go on contraception" He looked over at Piper. "Do you know what the priest said?" She shook her head.

"He said that it was against the teachings of the church and that it was God's will. If my mother died in childbirth, then that was what God wished. How the hell did I feel when I heard this?" He shook his head sipping his beer.

"I was shocked, do you think I wanted my Mother or growing up or Gods will to be done according to the priest? How do men who volunteer for a life of celibacy and want nothing to do with women and having a family decide on the fate of families?"

"To be honest as far as I see anyone joining the priesthood is a bit weird." He downed the remnants of his beer. "But what about those that feel the call, those that want to help the community Sledge?" Piper walked over to the fridge and took out two more beers.

"Think of it babes." He uncapped the bottle. She looked at him wondering why he had called her "babes." Putting it down to the alcohol he had consumed judging from the smell on his breath before he had arrived she let it go.

"Maybe some, a few percentages feel that they are called to the priesthood by God. The others are guys who cannot make it in the real world. They have no marketable skills. They have nothing going in their lives. If they join the priesthood, they are assured of an experience where they will always have a roof over their heads. They will continuously be fed and receive a salary. Add to that the blind acceptance of the flock who prostrate themselves like sheep before anyone wearing a collar. Do you not think that it makes them feel invulnerable?' Sledge clenched his fists.

"They think that they are untouchable, whenever priests take advantage of their position in life they know that they will be covered by the highest authority, those that in most cases have done exactly what they have done before them. A club of paedophile bastards protecting one another."

"Okay Sledge, enough alcohol, for now, let's go to mass." Piper grabbed the car keys. She walked out of the house and started the car. "It's one in the morning. We might have missed midnight mass at this stage!" He laughed.

Piper took the backroads into town. She stopped outside of the Catholic church. The hotels and backpackers in the area were quiet. The backpackers would come to life later on around four in the morning when the tourists returned from the pubs.

From the street, the old Gothic style church looked imposing, even eerie. Its high tower dwarfed the solid wooden door. Set on a hill the church overlooked the town in days gone by. Now it seemed insignificant amongst the clutter of hotels and designer homes. Skirting the gravel footpath Sledge led the way through the garden dotted with century old trees. Clouds covered the moon. Somewhere on the hill, a possum rattled its mating call. Sledge looked up at the high tower. "Weird, no gargoyles."

"When I was on leave from the Legion I visited Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris a few times. Do you know the stonemasons carved symbols in the archways and on the walls?" Scanning the church grounds, he whispered. "Supposedly they left clues in the architecture relating to Alchemy."

"The Gargoyle which is the most famous out of the lot was carved by a woman. At first, it was placed on the roof out of sight, because a woman carved it, but then during World War One, it was brought to the fore. How can we have symbols representing so-called evil carved in stone on Cathedrals?"

Walking on the granite paving stones leading to the wooden church door, Sledge noticed a light in the window of the adjoining house. "That's where the priest lives, hope he is not awake at this ungodly hour."

"Where did you learn that from?" He smiled watching Piper picking the lock on the church door. Piper heard the click. She felt the familiar rush of adrenaline when the pins in the lock tumbled. Standing aside, she ushered Sledge into the church.

They passed murals on the wall depicting the fourteen Stations of the Cross.

Sneaking down the aisle, they headed for the altar and then went left into a room marked private. "So, what do you think will open that apart from a block of C-4?" Sledge whispered.

"Plastic explosives are so outdated Sledge." Piper chuckled. She fitted one of the metal lock picking keys she had bought online into the lock. For a minute or two, she fiddled with the various metal keys. Stepping back, she planted a firm kick on the door beside the lock. "What the hell, we don't have all night." The door burst open at the hinges.

"Here we go Sledge, the inner sanctuary." She glided around the room with a head torch searching in the dark for something which could point them in the right direction. Prying open desk draws they found nothing but paperwork relating to everyday affairs.

"Take a look down under there Piper, maybe it's important." He pointed to a wall safe. Sledge looked at the dial of the old metal safe. "It's up to you. Miss safecracker."

Piper smiled then placed her ear against the safe. She twiddled with the knob hearing the clicks as the tumblers fell. Sledge began humming the theme music from "Mission Impossible." Piper giggled waving at him to stop.

"Hell Sledge, there is no way we are going to get into this safe. It's not like in the movies." She chuckled, the beers had taken their effect. Crouched beside the safe they smiled in resignation.

Suddenly the door burst open. "What are you doing here on this sacred ground?" Staring at the priest looking down at them Sledge jumped to his feet. Shining his torch on the pair the priest began shaking his head. For a moment he flicked the torchlight from one to the other then backed away against the wall.

Chapter 10

"I have, in a way been expecting you. I do not quarrel with you and only hope you will listen to my side of the story before you decide to take action." He made the sign of the cross.

"Open the safe, or you will regret it!" Sledge advanced toward the priest. Standing head and shoulders taller than the priest Sledge watched the middle-aged man nervously fiddle with his glasses. Running his hand through his close-cropped greying hair the priest nodded.

"My name is Father Smith." The torch trembled in his hand. "I am on your side, I swear by all that is holy. All I want is the dignity and honour restored to the church. Many of us who have taken up the call are pure at heart. I have followed the teachings of the church. I too was a victim as a child. Please let me show you something." He stepped toward Sledge and Piper.

Sledge stood ready to take action if the priest made a sudden move. Bending down the priest fiddled with the combination of the safe. He reached in and took out a folder. Slowly he pointed at the light switch. "Please do Father," Piper said. Blinking in the harsh light of a naked light bulb hanging from the ceiling they waited while the priest stepped closer.

"This is something we all received. An official, but strictly confidential and never to be revealed to the public document from the Vatican. It is called the "Crimen sollicitationis" which is a document from 1961 detailing how to report or deal with priests having sinned against the parishioners. How to cover up paedophilia in the church or risk excommunication if you didn't." Sledge watched the priest becoming more and more agitated. He wondered if it was because of their intrusion or because of the contents of the Vatican's document.

"Imagine for a moment you are a priest accused of raping a boy. You are between thirty to forty years of age. You have no other skills besides those you have learned in the church. You face imprisonment or at least being sent out into the world on your own. What do you do to earn a living?" He shuddered. "There are some of us who care about our faith. Those of the priesthood found guilty of child abuse deserves to be punished most severely."

Sledge scanned through the document. "It was approved by Pope John XX111. Really in all honesty, if I were to accuse someone of misconduct, those above me are most likely to have done the same evil deed as the priest I would be reporting. What chance do I have as a simple priest of seeing justice done?"

"You are a military man Sledge, what would have happened if you accused your Regimental Commander who holds the rank of Lieutenant Colonel of sexual abuse?" He paused for a moment looking at Sledge.

"I would have needed to follow the chain of command by forwarding the complaint to a Corporal who would have informed the Sergeant and so forth." Sledge knew where this was heading.

"And do you think that the Colonel, getting wind of these accusations would have let it continue or would he have applied pressure on those under his command? Officers firstly and then the Officers would pressure the Non-Commissioned Officers who would, in turn, kick up a shit storm threatening the Corporals who would make your life a living hell. Not so?" He smiled smugly.

"And you Piper, is it? Imagine that you are a talented actress. You have had success in smaller roles, and now it is time to follow your dreams and star in the leading role. An overweight, obnoxious movie director demands sex in return for the leading role. You refuse then suddenly find you are no longer getting parts for anything because he has blacklisted you for refusing his perverted advances. How would you feel standing up to the director in court, fighting against the best lawyer's money can buy, and you are barely eligible for Legal Aid?

"Which continent has the most number of devout Catholics?" He peered over at them like a schoolteacher asking a question.

"Possibly South America, maybe I am wrong," Piper said.

"One hundred per cent right my child. The Pope is from South America too. He is from Argentina. Are you Catholic?" He asked

"Um, I was brought up as a Catholic but." She hesitated.

"Well then if you must know I am a Wiccan Father." She waited for the eternal damnation speech which never came. Instead, Father Smith continued.

"Imagine for a moment you are a Provincial Prosecutor in South America, specifically in Chile. Having been brought up to revere the church, you now face a moral dilemma. Investigate allegations of child abuse and risk being ostracised by the community or simply let the Vatican sort it out as your predecessors did?"

Sitting down Father Smith settled himself into the single worn armchair in the room.

"Well, our intrepid Provincial Prosecutor stepped up to the plate. Pope Francis sent two special envoys to investigate a child sex abuse scandal in Chile. The envoys were holding a meeting with priests and church officials when an aide suddenly burst into the room." Father Smith opened a bag of sweets. Offering them to Piper and then Sledge he popped a mint into his mouth.

"It was terrible news for the church officials and priests. Police and the prosecutors were raiding Church offices in the city. At that very moment, while the priests were hurrying back to their offices, the police were seizing cell phones, documents, tablets and computers looking for evidence of unreported sex crimes."

Enthralled by the revelations, they listened intently to Father Smith.

"The Catholic church quietly investigated abuse allegations for decades, never alerting the police." He sat upright, looking at Sledge.

"And do you know what the results of the church's internal investigations were?" Sledge shrugged his shoulders.

"It allowed the abusers to continue to operate without fear of being brought to justice. The church now stands accused of covering up the crimes for all these years. Since then there have been around half a dozen additional raids, all of the raids uncovered more damning evidence."

Flipping through the files Sledge looked up at the priest. "When you said that you had been expecting us, what did you mean by that? We could be out to steal the cash from the collection box."

"Possibly, but not here in Queenstown. But you do fit the description sent to all the parish priests in the country." Replied Father Smith. "The Arch Bishop e-mailed a warning to be on the lookout for the two of you. We were all instructed to contact the Arch Bishop's office if we saw you in our parish. He described the two of you as Heretics, devil worshipers and murderers. I'm afraid you have disturbed a hornet's nest."

"I was sure you would work out a few pieces of the puzzle. Here are the names of the priests who have served in this parish over the years. I have taken the liberty of drawing up a list of accusations against some of them. All of the charges were dropped and settled out of court. I will leave it to you." He dropped the files in Sledge's lap.

"I take it that this meeting is confidential? I never saw you two, and you certainly were never here." Turning to walk out of the room Father Smith made the sign of the cross. "May God be with you Sledge."

"How do you know my name, Father?" Sledge closed in on the priest.

"I have followed your travels and wartime experience through parishioners and friends. I have prayed for your safe return Sledge." He walked toward Sledge.

"Go with God, brother." Clasping Sledge's hand, Father Smith looked him directly in the eyes. Sledge noticed the "brother" part was not said in the usual priestly manner but almost how military veterans used the term amongst themselves. The priest was dressed in a short sleeve shirt. Sledge noticed scars on his upper forearm.

"I wasn't always a priest you know." Turning to leave the room Father Smith hesitated. "Ritter, that is the name of the Arch Bishop who sent out the description of you two. Be careful. He is one of the worst." His footsteps echoed down the narrow corridor. A door closed, Sledge looked at Piper. She seemed as surprised as he was.

Taking a last look into the safe Sledge opened a small metal drawer. At the bottom of the drawer lay an old, fading photograph. Sledge picked it up looking at the young faces. A group of soldiers in camo gear stood around a destroyed anti-aircraft gun.

"What is it, Sledge?" Piper asked.

"Our friendly neighbourhood priest seems to have been in the military before he took his oath to the church. See the uniforms, the Para wings on the sleeve? Judging by this photo and the terrain, the anti-aircraft gun with the Argentinian flag on the side, he fought in the Falklands war." Sledge looked closer at the photo.

A teenager with a bloody bandage roughly bound around his forearm stared at the camera. He had that unmistakable thousand-yard stare in his eyes as many combat veterans do. Dead bodies were visible in the background, both British and Argentinian. Five young boys in full combat gear crouched in a shell hole.

Turning to see if anything had been written on the back of the photograph he let out a sigh.

"What's wrong? Goose Green, May 28-29th where is Goose Green?" Piper asked leaning against Sledge.

"It was a battle in the Falklands war Piper. The British Paras attacked the Argentinian troops who were well entrenched. The Brits won but at a high cost of lives."

"See here?' He placed his finger on the names of four of the five young men on the reverse side.

"Their names and R.I.P. Father Smith seems to have been the only survivor, and he was wounded at that too."

"It's so sad, Sledge." She flipped the photo over. "The families of these men were praying for the safe return of their sons too. Imagine seeing your son lying here like this." Sledge took a closer look at the bodies in the background. The bodies of three young Argentinian soldiers lay sprawled in the mud.

"May we all have a drink in the halls of Valhalla one day, brothers." Reverently returning the battered photo to its rightful place Sledge bowed his head.

"What was that?" Piper asked.

"Nothing, let's go home. Well, I never expected anything like that Piper. Do you think he is on the level?" Sledge bundled the file into a recyclable shopping bag near the desk. "Let's get out of here and have a look at what Father Smith has given us."

Driving in silence Piper made the short trip back to her apartment in a matter of minutes.

"I need a strong cup of coffee, you having one Sledge?" Sitting in the lounge, they opened the files.

"This is very interesting. Father Connelly had a string of accusations against him. Each time someone higher up sent him to a different parish. Another priest had three cases of sexual assault settled out of court. The church bought the victims silence. This priest was also transferred to a different parish where he continued the abuse."

"How are they able to get away with such terrible things? Who was the priest in charge of that parish or the area where all the abuse happened?" Flipping through the hand-written pages, Piper searched for names and dates.

"Here, look at this. Father Connelly was a novice priest when the current Arch Bishop ran the parish. There are a few more names and dates. It seems like the dates indicate when the person or persons were sent to a retreat to pray for forgiveness after they were accused of sexual misconduct." Piper froze.

"Wasn't this the place we found the children at the compound?" She pointed to a photo stapled to a paper listing at least a dozen names of clergymen accused of sexual misconduct. It was circled in thick red ink.

"Holy shit, you're right Piper. There are other names as well. All of them spent time at the place we raided, Mr X's retreat." He looked closer at the paper.

"They were sent to a farmhouse close by too. That was where the priests were supposed to pray for forgiveness and reflect on what they had done.

"And all of them at the same time more or less. What the hell was happening there."

"Hang on a minute. What did Father Smith say the Arch Bishops name was Piper?'

She reefed through the papers. "His name is Ritter, Arch Bishop Ritter. That's the name he gave us." She continued reading. She sat slumped in her chair. Tears streamed down her face.

"What's wrong Piper?" He put his hand on her shoulder. She pointed to a paragraph on the hand-written sheet. In silence, he read through the statement.

"Oh my God Sledge, how do people like this exist, and more importantly, why?" She wiped the tears from her face. "Two young boys aged five and seven, they were brothers, and they were forced to perform oral sex on each other while Ritter watched. How sick are these bastards, how long are we going to let them get away with this?"

Wrapping his arm around her shoulder Sledge held her gently. "If there is a God then I am sure he will reserve a special place in hell for them. I am so sorry, for getting you involved in all of this."

"I think there is more to it than we imagine. How were we chosen to do this? It was not by chance Sledge. My brother might have something to do with all of this. Something I never wanted to admit before. Both of us were close to him. I hate to think he suffered all these years because of Connelly or Ritter. We have to see this through. If not for Robert then for all the voiceless innocents. From now on we show no mercy. I am prepared to go all out to eliminate these perverts." She looked at Sledge. There was a coldness he had never seen before in her eyes.

"You have the training, the experience of war. This is all new to me. I am not soft nor am I weak, but I need to process all of this. It's not easy for me, unlike you."

He stared down at the table for a moment. "Do you think it was easy for me Piper? Something I have never told anyone. I was so innocent, we all were. We wondered why our Sergeants and some of the more experienced Officers trained us hard. Their eyes were all so much older than their years. "We were eighteen years old, the Officers were twenty-five old and looked forty-five."

"They hammered us mercilessly day and night, almost with a sense of urgency. We never understood why. We hated them. On the first patrol, we were all excited thinking it was "Apocalypse Now" or some other war movie we had watched time and time again."

"After a few days out in the bush, we were ambushed, outnumbered ten to one. What saved us was the intensive training we had received. We reacted instinctively. We annihilated the enemy and sent them running. The whole night we heard the screams of their wounded. I heard a crunching sound close. Then a bark. Wild dogs were eating the still warm flesh. The following day we did a sweep through the area. We had one guy wounded. There were twelve enemy bodies out in front of our positions. During the night one of them ended his misery by detonating a grenade. I saw his face, or what was left of it. There was a flesh mask hanging from the tree. Flies and ants crawled in and out of the body orifices."

"His upper body was missing, his lungs spilt onto the sand. I remember thinking that I should feel shocked or sick. I felt nothing. I was so numb. The metallic smell of blood was all around. We fired at wild dogs eating and carrying off body parts. My mind was a mess. My friends were at University. When we returned home, we could no longer connect with them. They were kids, in their make-believe world of who is or is not the cool kids and thinking by protesting against their parents they would achieve something. They were so ignorant. Dozens of rounds had missed me by inches, I had, please don't tell anyone but we were so thirsty when we ran out of water on patrol that we drank our own piss. We made straws from long grassroots then stuck them into trees. We drank the putrid rainwater caught in the boughs. We spent three days without food. The choppers brought us back to base, I ate a sausage and a few spoons of mash and puked my lungs out. Our stomachs had shrunk in that short time. My friends at Uni were having parties while we fought and died. It was a weird nightmare."

"Afterwards, I was so bloody scared. I functioned as a soldier, I did my duty and fought for my friends, but my hands trembled constantly. I had seen what happens when you are hit by small arms fire, never mind mortars and rockets. I was not scared of death. It was how I would die that terrified me."

He lit a cigarette. "We were stuck there for a year. I was going mad. I became detached from my body and the things I witnessed. I pretended it was not me but simply something happening in another time and place. Thoughts of home and family hurt, so I lived with my eighteen mates in a world apart. The small area of bush became our world. One day I realised that I would either have to deal with the constant pain in my stomach caused by fear of death or lose my mind. I then became numb. For months I felt nothing at all. I did not allow myself to feel, as a self-preservation thing." He stubbed out the cigarette.

"Then one night we dug in and lay looking up at the stars. One or two of the guys read their pocket Bibles by the light of a torch. Most of us took no comfort in the words of a Middle Eastern religion enforced on Europeans centuries before. We began talking about the stories we had heard about our ancestors and Valhalla."

Piper drew closer to Sledge. "Suddenly a weight was lifted. I would see the enemy flares ark across the sky and feel a rush of adrenaline. I craved the smell of the helicopter fuel as we lifted off on a mission. The smell of cordite from our rifles was like a drug. I did the most stupid things to get an adrenaline rush. We ran across open fields as the enemy fired on us to feel something, that wild adrenaline rush. I felt no fear. All I wanted was to die bravely in battle and reach Valhalla. Where the brave live forever."

"We imagined ourselves walking through a field of golden corn toward the ramparts of Valhalla. Our blonde goddess would greet us. An eternal warrior's life. As hard as we fought, we did not seem to be worthy. Had we done enough to enter Valhalla?"

"Then suddenly our rotation ended. Within a few hours, we were walking around in civilian life. My head was in the war. Civilians were all concerned with everyday life, bloody hell I still had camouflage cream in my ears when I got on the train to go home." Sledge smiled. "And we wondered why mothers with kids changed compartments on the train. We must have looked like wild men."

Sledge blushed sheepishly, looking down at his feet.

"I'm sorry Piper. This is the first time I have ever talked to someone about it."

"It's good to know Sledge. I appreciate you sharing your thoughts and feelings with me. I am so overwhelmed at the moment by all that is happening. Imagine, we rush about everyday thinking mainly of ourselves. How many people do we cross each day who are suffering phycological from one type of abuse or another?"

Rocking her slowly in his arms Sledge whispered into her ear.

"I don't mean to change the subject but look here." He reached out for a newspaper on the table.

"There is another clue in the papers. Vlad the Impaler. Let justice take its course."

"What does a vampire have to do with all of this?" He guessed the answer before Piper looked at him.

"Vikings equaled death by the Blood Eagle, what do you think the image of Vlad the Impaler means?" Piper muttered, her face was suddenly deathly pale.

Resting her head on his shoulder, Piper stared into Sledge's eyes. Both of them knew the answer.

"If we leave early enough we can have a look at the farmhouse where the priests were sent as penance. What do you think?" She nodded in agreement.

Chapter 11

Giant T.V screens set above the stands at the Rugby stadium in Dunedin broadcast the highlights of the game. Advertisers paid top dollar knowing their products would be seen in the stadium and on television sets in homes around the world.

As a Rugby nation New Zealander's tuned into their televisions at the start of the epic match, as did people in France and all over Europe, as did Americans and Japanese whose teams had recently become a threat to the dominant Rugby nations.

Sledge held Piper's hand tightly during the second half. France and the All Blacks were neck and neck. One point separated the opposing sides. The eyes of the Rugby world were on the game. With seconds to go until the end of the match the Kiwi's pushed the French back. Within a hairsbreadth of the full-time whistle, New Zealand scored a try. The stadium erupted! Black flags emblazoned with the Silver Fern waved triumphantly. The victorious home crowd roared their approval.

The touchdown replay appeared on the huge screens in the stadium and homes. On the four gigantic screens in the stadium and houses and pubs around the world, the screens inexplicitly turned black.

Millions of people worldwide watched as on the screens photos of Father Connelly appeared. A metallic voice droned over the sound system. "May I present to you Father Connelly, the beloved parish priest. He was removed ten times from the parishes he served in because of child abuse accusations. Someone covered up his crimes. But no matter, they could not prevent his death."

In the background, viewers heard the excited voices of the people in charge of the broadcast system screaming at their staff to shut the footage down. People in the Rugby stadium began taking videos on their cell phones. Others contacted the media.

The material turned from still photos of Father Connelly to video footage of his murder down by the river. From the point of view from which the grizzly footage was taken, it must have been a drone. It hovered above Father Connelly. The masked altar boy cut through his flesh. It revealed the horrific act of cutting through bone and muscle until it ended with his slow and painful death.

The crowd was deathly silent. As the grim reality dawned on the Rugby fans and viewers worldwide that what they were seeing was real and not staged they felt sickened by what they had witnessed.

Classical music drifted over the Rugby field as the spectacle progressed.

"But wait there is more!" The metallic voice announced as if he were promoting info commercials. "This is Mr X, and Mr X ran a high market brothel. The only problem was that Mr X used and abused young children he was supposed to care for. These children, were brought to him from, can you guess?" On the screen, Mr X appeared hanging by chords attached to his wrists.

"May I present to you the Arch Bishop Ritter?" All eyes turned to the Arch Bishop Ritter staring blankly at the camera dressed in full church regalia.

On the big T.V screens viewers watched in horror as the Arch Bishop drew a razor-sharp knife from his robe. In the morning sunlight, the Arch Bishop was seen to slit the clothes off of Mr X's body haphazardly. Blood dripped from the wounds.

Slowly the camera closed in on a wooden stake sharpened to a point. Positioning the stake under the victim's buttocks as if he were in a trance Arch Bishop Ritter continued his grisly work. Almost zombie like Arch Bishop Ritter cut into the man's buttocks with his razor-sharp knife never once revealing a hint of emotion.

Shoving the stake into the victim's lacerated anus, Arch Bishop Ritter stared devoid of any emotion directly at his victim. Mr X's screams reverberated through the stadium. Ritter cut the cords binding Mr X.

Agonisingly slowly Mr X slipped further down the stake screaming and in excruciating pain. It penetrated his bowels slowly working its way up along the spine. The camera zoomed in on a piece of wood positioned on the stake.

"The interesting thing about impaling a human, if we can call this bastard one, is that it depends on how it is done." "If done correctly a human can survive up to eight days or more, but we will fast forward." The mood of the crowd had gone from ecstatic at their victory to shocked and sickened by the spectacle on the screen.

The timer on the bottom of the video skipped onward turning agonising hours into seconds for the viewer's sadistic pleasure. Suddenly still life photos of Arch Bishop Ritter abusing young boys appeared on the screens.

"And here we have it, the end of yet another paedophile bastard. And by the way, we are everywhere. M.K Ultra is a proven technique which we have mastered. Those who are complicit, those who have aided or covered up the crimes of the priesthood beware."

"This is addressed to the Mainstream Media, many of you received photos and a list of our demands earlier, yet not one of you chose to publish the photos of Connelly, nor did you print the names of the priests accused of sexual misconduct. Here we have His Eminence, Cardinal Richards. Many of you are familiar with His Eminence having watched his pre-trial when he was accused of sexual abuse by numerous victims. Cardinal Richards will follow in the footsteps of his saviour, the fourteen Stations of the Cross awaits the Cardinal Richards."

Standing in front of what looked like St Peter's square at the Vatican, Cardinal Richards stared at the camera. Dressed in sackcloth, Richards held out his hands in supplication rattling the heavy metal chains on his wrists.

"His torment begins with the first Station. Richards, like Jesus, is condemned to death. At midnight Richards will begin his Calvary. Responsibility lies with the media, the Vatican, judges and police as well as each and every one of you. People in power, the power granted to you by ordinary citizens, why do you neglect your duty?"

Ending with the gruesome death rattle of Mr X the camera zoomed in on a photo of Jesus crucified on a cross.

"Let the guilty fear my name. I am known as Orcus. By divine intervention, I have been chosen to mete out sacred retribution in the name of the innocent. Orcus, avenging angel! I now await a response from the man in command of the Catholic church, the Pope. He will bend to our demands or suffer the consequences. It is known that he refers to those accusing priests of sexual misconduct as heretics, unbelievers and Satan's agents. Can the Catholic church survive after the endless abuse accusations over the years?"

The image of a cross faded. A replay of the final touchdown appeared on the screen. Sitting in stunned silence, the crowd absentmindedly stared at the screen without a sound.

"I know that music Piper. It's a composition by Franz Liszt. It's called the Via Crucis or the way of the cross in English." He watched the Rugby fans become more agitated.

"How do you know that Sledge, I thought as far as you were concerned the "Classics" consisted of Paranoia by Black Sabbath or Whole lotta Rossie by AC/DC."

"Just because we were soldiers doesn't mean that we were savages. I remember the sounds of Vivaldi in the jungle of French Guiana in South America vividly. It sets the atmosphere. We went across to Devils Island where French prisoners were sent for life in the old days. If you read the book "Papillion" written by Henri Charriere, it describes what happened to the inmates and the cruelty they experienced. Solitary confinement for five years. If you made a noise, your cell was covered, and the rest of the sentence was spent in total darkness. One of our guys played the theme from the movie on an accordion when we were there walking through the minute cells. It was almost surreal." He paused for a moment thinking back.

"We saw cells open to the elements. More than 70 000 people were sent there. The cell was about 7feet wide 12 feet high and 12 feet long. Above there were rusted bars. The cells were open to the elements. Devil's Island was where the political prisoners were sent. Men were reduced to mindless, emaciated animals. Fettered by iron shackles, the prisoners feared the dark. Vampire bats waited to gorge on their blood." Sledge ran his fingers through his hair.

"This continued until the Second World War. Less than two thousand survivors returned to France when they closed the prisons in Guiana. They were given second-hand clothing and left to fend for themselves. Most of them committed suicide. They just could not fit into what we call normal society." Sledge pointed at the people gathering around the exit tunnels of the stadium.

Now the crowd's mood was one of revenge and guilt. An angry mob stormed out of the stadium gates headed toward the local church.

"Bloody descent of them mate." Wide-eyed Sledge and Piper listened to two men pushing through the crowd. "Too right bro, at least they waited for the full-time whistle before putting up that shit." They joined the crowd headed for the church.

A thin line of law enforcement officers separated the crowd from the church entrance. One or two daring individuals threw a rock through the church windows. Then the group did what most Westerners do when hit by a terrorist attack or similar atrocities. They lit candles, sang "Kumbaya my Lord". They lay flowers, and Teddy bears at the gate of the church then went home to change their Facebook profile picture in solidarity to or in remembrance of the victims.

"Bit of a letdown, though for once someone might do something," Sledge muttered. "I heard that, what do you want them to do? Perhaps burn the church, maybe a good old-fashioned lynching from the nearest tree?"

"I know how you feel Sledge, but maybe this is what is needed to get something done, they can't be all bad in the priesthood." Piper led the way along the main street crowded with students out on the town rubbing shoulders with middle-aged Rugby supporters.

The interior of the Irish Pub was warm and welcoming. The dark wooden fixtures and fittings enhanced the cosy atmosphere. Sitting at a table to the rear of the pub, they sipped their Guinness. "Do you know that the Guinness in Ireland tastes different to what we are drinking now? Travelling does something to the taste." He wiped a thin film of foam from his mouth.

"Hang on!" Piper abruptly held up her hand. "Well so much for my worldly knowledge enthralling you." He smirked. "Wait, what's that up on the screen? They moved closer. Barely audible above the background noise in the pub and the Irish music they caught a few sentences of the news report.

"It's all about the killings we saw on the Rugby screen. There is also a news flash. A priest in Christchurch has been found dead, a gunshot wound to the back of his head. Another priest in Hastings hung himself after he began receiving threatening calls." Her face was pale, drained by the shock Piper went back to their table.

"Finishing his beer Sledge went up to the bar to order two more drinks. "I've been thinking Piper." He placed a pint of Guinness in front of her. She smiled taking a sip of the dark beer. "Well, that makes a change," Sledge smirked ignoring her remark.

"A priest was killed after the Vikings appeared in the papers by the Blood Eagle method." She nodded. "Then a pimp is impaled by an Arch Bishop after a picture of Vlad the Impaler was published in the newspapers."

"That's right Sledge, I think I know where you are going with this, and by the way, you were spot on with the M.K Ultra theory, that Arch Bishop was either on drugs or a total robot being controlled by someone."

He drew closer. "Exactly. And we saw a huge crucifix on the screen. The guy dressed as an altar boy killed Connelly. Ritter killed Mr X."

"As far as I know Ritter is still missing in action. Any idea where he might be right now, the police don't have him in custody. I'm almost sure of that." He reached out to touch her hand.

He paused for a moment watching almost everyone in the pub glued to their cell phones. "Before people drank, talked and had a good time, now look." She nodded looking around the room. "Well we don't have cell phones in our hands, we are having a conversation and all is good!"

"Richards is the next victim. I presume the police must be out looking for him. I think he will be crucified. It will be done in a very gruesome manner for the most shocking effect. I can't say I feel sorry for him after what he must have done to innocent kids, but still, I want to get to the bottom of this. Who the hell is the one planning all the murders and where does he get the money to fund the operation?" He reached into his pocket pulling out a wad of notes.

"Speaking of money, here, I believe this belongs to you. The money you threw at me in the cabin." He placed it on the table. Piper stared at the money for a moment.

"You had better put it in your pocket Piper. These students are on a diet of two-minute noodles and toast. It's going to disappear in a second or two if you don't." A group of University students stared at the notes on the table. Their fantasy of all night drinks and all you could eat buffet dinners vanished as Piper scooped up the money shoving it into her pocket.

"You know more than I do about the Station of the Cross. What is it exactly?" Piper spoke quietly

"I don't remember much, to be honest, Piper. All I remember is that Pontius Pilot washed his hands of Jesus. After that, Jesus carried the cross along the Via Dolorosa or the "Way of suffering" which was a street in Old Jerusalem where Jesus was forced to walk down. It started at the old Roman fortress of Antonia and went all the way to the Holy Sepulcher."

"Jesus suffered flogging, the weight of the cross bearing down on him along the Via Dolorosa and then ultimately crucifixion. We can only hope whoever is controlling this macabre re-enactment comes to their sense. They have made their point, but another gruesome killing might damage what they have set out to achieve."

"There it is again Sledge." Nudging his shoulder, Piper pointed to the T.V screen on the wall. The sound was down, but the images of the murders were crystal clear on the big screen.

"Well, it seems that some of the media have taken up the challenge and have started reporting the story."

"Yes, but we have less than fourteen hours before Richards is crucified, can you think of anything that might indicate where this is all taking place Sledge?"

Chapter 12

Television and radio stations around the globe began reporting on the kidnappings and murders as internet search results revealed a massive increase in traffic related to the missing Cardinal.

"Who is Cardinal Richards, that is the question on everyone's lips!" an attractive blond news reporter stared into the camera, she smiled seductively before continuing, a glint in her eye.

"Born in a small Australian town Richards went to school at a Convent before finishing his education at St Anthony's college. In nineteen sixty-eight he attended the Pontifical Urban University in Rome where he was ordained as a priest in nineteen seventy-two." She paused for effect.

"Rising quickly through the ranks this talented and enthusiastic young priest was appointed to the College of Cardinals. Author of a number of books and with a degree in Finance, Cardinal Richards was appointed to the Vatican where he overhauled the existing financial practice of the church." Again, she paused. A commercial appeared on the screen costing the advertisers millions.

Images of the Cardinal flashed on the screen depicting his humble beginnings right up to where he proudly stood beside the Pope as financial head of the Vatican.

"Although a brilliant financial expert Cardinal Richards career seemed to have been marred by numerous accusations of sexual abuse. Many of these were brought to the attention of the justice system, but almost all of the cases were settled out of court resulting in over eighty million dollars' worth of compensation being paid out to the victims. In all cases, he was either accused of or had knowledge of sexual abuse committed by priests in his parishes and had covered up the crimes." Smiling as if she were reporting on some minor incident, the presenter continued.

"A worldwide police hunt is currently underway for the alleged perpetrator of the apparent murders and the kidnapping this morning of His Eminence Cardinal Richards. They are strongly condemning what the Vatican's spokesperson calls an attack on the church. He urged police to bring the mysterious Orcus into custody insisting that Orcus and his accomplices are prosecuted to the full extent of the law. He did, however, refrain from commenting on alleged sexual misconduct being covered up or ignored by the Vatican."

She suddenly disappeared from the screen. People stared at a black screen for seconds before an image of Christ on the cross appeared as if by magic.

"We are streaming live on the internet and your T.V screens. Pontius Pilot washed his hands of Jesus. By washing their hands on the subject of, or should I say the fate of Cardinal Richards, the Vatican has abandoned one of their own, which is tantamount to a death sentence."

The metallic sounding voice droned on.

"We requested the Vatican release the names of known sex offenders throughout the world. A wall of silence met our request. Cardinal Richards will now set off on the second part of his ordeal. As Jesus suffered beatings and whipping from the soldiers, so will Cardinal Richards." Once again, the classical music played in the background. Franz Liszt played again. An organ slowly interpreted the second station of the cross along with the male solo singing. Images flickered on the screen.

"We are Legion. We are international. News reporters around the world are receiving information at this very moment. A coordinated attack is underway. Predator priests will be marked by the sign of the cross to warn innocents of their sins. The predatory priests gave young boys a symbolic cross as a sign to their fellow perverts that the child wearing the cross was an easy target. Now let these predator priests be identified as the monsters they are, the demons who steal a child's innocents."

News crews and hospital staff began reporting incidents of priests rushed to the emergency wards with the sign of the cross branded by a hot iron into their foreheads.

"This is a video shot by a fellow victim, Tim D'Arcy, one of Cardinal Richards boys. A simple Google search can easily verify all places and names. Witness for yourselves the physical and psychological impact the perverted sins of Cardinal Richards had on one of many." The image on the screen flashed to a wide-eyed young man looking into a video recorder.

"What the hell did any of you do? We sent letters and documents to the newspapers and television channels. Not one of you replied or even acknowledged receipt of the letters and photos." Drawing closer to the camera, Tim continued. In the background lay empty tins of beer and an empty bottle of Vodka. He dragged on a cigarette.

"Father Richards seemed to be such a cool guy. He played footy, went hunting and would take us down to the swimming pool." Tim shook his head.

"Most of us were from working-class families. We were from a tough neighbourhood. We had hard-working parents. We were all brought up to believe that if a priest asked you to do something, it was like God himself asking you to do it." Taking a long swig from a bottle, he held his head in his hands.

"Richards gained our confidence, he moulded or should I say he groomed us. Slowly at first. Then things began happening. At the swimming pool, he would throw us off of his shoulders but picking us up he groped our crotches. Then later he would slide his hands into our shorts." Throwing the empty bottle against the wall, Tim began sobbing.

"My mate told his father what the priest was doing down at the swimming pool and exposing himself to four of us boys in the changeroom. Do you know what happened? My mate was beaten black and blue by his father for making accusations against a priest. We never told our parents after that."

"We had no-one to turn to, those that were supposed to protect us looked aside. We were ten or twelve-year-old kids. Can you imagine the shame, the terrible physical and mental torture we were forced to endure? Scared and abandoned we had our childhood; our lives were stolen from us by the person we were taught to respect the most."

Rolling up his sleeve, Tim fumbled with the camera. Needle tracks on his arms testified to the use of drugs.

"Trapped, terrified, we could not refuse to go to church camps. It was deemed an honour to be one of the altar boys by our families, but they had no idea what Richards was doing to us. How did the clergy become so powerful?" Again, the camera went out of focus.

"When older boys managed to find someone to listen to them and believe their stories they were given a small amount of cash and the Arch Bishop of the parish would stop by the house to apologise for the priest's behaviour. Everything was handled internally by the church, not the police. They were never even informed. The church settled things out of court."

Stumbling down the corridor of his dilapidated apartment, Tim blinked in the morning sunlight walking out onto the street.

"What happens to the clergy when they are eventually caught in the act? Let me show you." Lurching down a waste strewn street, Tim boarded a bus without paying his fare. The driver hated this side of town. He wasn't about to be assaulted for the price of a bus ticket. Ignoring Tim, the driver headed along his route taking them into the more affluent side of the city.

"And here we have the outcome of the church's punishment for those guilty of the worst sin. They were stealing someone's soul and life. We were young, naive children. Those bastards knew what they were doing by methodically plotting and planning their sick sexual acts. All for their gratification."

For a second the camera tilted sideways when Tim slipped down the stairs of the bus. A hissing sound signalled the drivers' relief when the doors slammed shut, and he continued on his route.

Zooming in and out the camera eventually focused on a school bus. Disgorging innocent, carefree children the school bus disappeared down the street.

"Look at these kids. They are walking past the house. Be careful little kids!" He took a close up of the house.

"What do we have here? In the garden, I see someone I know. That sick perverted friend of Richards, Father O'Donnell. And who is that staring out of the window at the kids? Don't tell me and yes, it is Father Garibaldi from St Sylvain's, another convicted paedophile. Convicted by the church but unknown to the police."

Viewers watched the camera close in on the priests. Their house was more than comfortable in comparison to the home Tim had grown up in.

"Looking at little boys you sick perverts. What goes through your minds when you see young boys walking past your house?" Tim screamed. "This is a place where they are sent while awaiting their next posting. They will be transferred to another parish, most of the times to another state or in the worst cases to another country where they will continue with their abuse. Four of the bastards living together." Sirens screamed in the distance growing louder.

Viewers caught a glimpse of police lights and a scuffle.

"Okay, I was arrested for harassing the priests. For some unknown reason, my video recorder and tape were left untouched by the policeman processing the complaint. He had that certain look in his eyes when he handed the camera back to me. I have seen that look before."

Again, the camera focused on Tim in his rundown apartment.

"I have tried counselling, they pretend to listen but do nothing. I have tried reporting the clergy's crimes, but no-one helps. I went to court but I was representing myself, and Richards had the best lawyer's money could buy. I went to court, not for myself but to protect and spare others from what I had endured. My case was rejected as I was a drunk and an addict. They said I was only trying to extort money out of the church. I see the innocent children at church, look into their eyes if you dare. Do something before it is too late for them too. I now end my suffering, one day I will see you in hell Richards." Tim focused on his arm. He injected a massive amount of heroin into his vein.

A second later his tombstone appeared on screen then his death certificate.

"As I said, all this is very easily verified by a simple search on the internet. He was a friend, one of the dozens who ended his life because of the helplessness of his situation brought on and caused by Richards. Do not pity the Cardinal as he sets about paying for his sins. Want to know something amusing? Richards rose through the ranks of the church swiftly. He was for quite some time charged with investigating allegations of sexual abuse, ironic wouldn't you say?" Orcus laughed sarcastically.

Cardinal Richards knelt on the ground, his eyes wide in terror. A figure approached through the haze, dressed as a soldier of the Imperial Roman Army.

Struggling against the metal chains binding his wrists to a massive wooden block Cardinal Richards pleaded for mercy. Blood dripped down his arms as the rusting manacles bit into his flesh.

The Legionnaire raised a sturdy bamboo cane. Bringing it down with all his might on Cardinal Richards bareback, a deep welt appeared where the blow had struck. He positioned himself for the next blow, and then the next.

Blood seeped from the Cardinals wounds, all the while being streamed to millions of people watching on their computers or phones, billions more tuned in on their television sets.

Sweating under the exertion after thirty lashes, the Legionnaire took a moment's respite before abruptly walking over to a metal-tipped whip.

In the background a dozen men dressed as Roman Legionnaires stood at rigid attention, their faces masked. Their Eagle standard held high by a man dressed as a Roman Centurion. Sweeping momentarily past the soldiers the camera focused on the Roman soldier striking the first blow with the metal tipped whip over Cardinal Richards already bloodied back.

Stepping toward Richards the Centurion held out a crown of thorns fashioned from barbed wire for all to see. Slowly and deliberately the Centurion placed the ring of thorns on Richards' head. People watching cringed as the sound of the crown ripping through flesh and crunching against the skull bone filtered through. Blood trickled down Richards' face. Richards screamed into the camera. Using the flat of his short stabbing spear the Centurion tapped the circle of thorns into Richards flesh. Eyes wide from shock and pain Richards stared panic-stricken at those who watched on their television sets or cell phones.

"Damn it, rewind Piper!" He grabbed her cell phone.

"It's not a video recording Sledge. You can't rewind just like that. What's wrong?"

"Besides the obvious you mean? Everyone is has seen a priest whipped in live T.V before?"

"I spotted something I need to take a closer look at." Sledge ignored her comment.

"Well, you will have to wait for the replay. I can't believe what we are seeing."

Cardinal Richards lost consciousness after the third blow. Lacerated and bleeding he hung limp, held up only by the blood-soaked chains.

His face expressionless, a proud and defiant Roman Legionnaire stood beside Cardinal Richards. Blood from the Cardinals wounds stained his uniform.

"From what I can see here this is all happening in an old Roman Amphitheatre, look at the crowds standing in a square around the Cardinal." Piper pointed out running her fingers through her hair. She bit her fingernails.

Women dressed in the clothes of the time looked on and wept, Roman Legionnaires and men in Biblical era attire watched the torment of Cardinal Richards. The Stations of the Cross flashed for a few seconds on the screen alternating between the image of Christ on a cross and a tattered book.

"Malleus Maleficarum, that's an evil as hell work of literary bullshit which was taken as God's word." Piper stuttered.

It was written by a guy called Kramer in 1487. He was one sick bloody bastard." Sledge looked at her wondering what she was on about.

"It was a handbook endorsed by the Catholic church as to how the priests would go about finding, torturing and condemning a person suspected of witchcraft." Piper shook her head. She clenched her fists.

"As someone who first began to take an interest in Wicca, I was like many of the girls my age. We wanted to put a love spell on a boy or divine the future. Did you ever think of me?" She smiled. "After a while, I began to see the true spiritual message of our ancestors shining through." She smiled looking at Sledge.

"You can always find Wicca 101 guides but then nothing really after that. It is from the initial Wiccan stage that people branch out and find other directions in magic." Piper looked down at the ground as she spoke.

"Not in the same brutal manner as you experienced I searched for a deeper meaning to life and our abilities. We are told by the clergy never to explore our true spiritual potential. Why do they keep us from developing our minds and abilities? As above then so below. That means what we hold in our minds in deep meditation can be brought forth at will in this physical world."

He had a slight look of confusion on his face.

"Once you delve deeper into the art of witchcraft you will immediately see mention of a book by the name of "Malleus Maleficarum" a book which would sentence thousands to die the most horrible and painful death. When you look at the methods of torture from the Iron Maiden, and I don't mean the rock band, Sledge, to the thumbscrews and the rack, it was all sanctioned by the church."

"Okay, imagine, in today's time you are a woman and a guy finds you sexually attractive. He makes advances, sexual advances. You refuse, and he fires you or ends your career as an actress or even as a waitress." Sledge nodded.

"Then in those days, they would do the same as men of the cloth do nowadays. He wants sex. You say no, and you end up stripped naked, shaved and tied to a stake in the village."

"In those days most people in Europe bathed maybe twice a year. I mean they washed with soap and water. In the Middle Ages, our dashing knights in armour washed twice a year. During the Crusades, the enemy would smell the Crusaders before even laying eyes on them if the wind was blowing in the right direction. The Princess, our brave knight, rescued did not shave her legs, armpits or anywhere else. She had never seen a toothbrush. How did the first kiss taste or smell? Not to mention what a chastity belt must have done for the libido of both parties when unlocked." Piper giggled before a deeply distressing expression crossed her face.

"Kramer even went as far in extracting confessions from innocent victims that he tortured a woman who did not confess to witchcraft. She happened to be the wise woman of the village who administered herbal remedies or worked as a midwife when women gave birth. So, you know what he did then, this Kramer dude?" Sledge shrugged his shoulders.

"He brought in her seven-year-old daughter and proceeded to torture her in front of the woman. It was all documented by the pious altar boys in their manuscripts. She confessed to whatever he wanted, both mother and seven-year-old daughter were burned at the stake, side by side. After she confessed to save her daughter. The church has so much blood on its hands. How can they ever attempt to preach to us? How are they able to look people in the eye and condemn them for minor infractions while blatantly doing far worse themselves?" She held her head in her hands.

"Vote on Malleus, a great mystery to most of you out there that have never taken the time to research or the choose the cross!" Orcus commanded. A website address flashed on the screen. Immediately votes began to tally up.

As people pressed the icon of a tattered book or a silver cross the votes poured into a Dark Webb site.

"What was the next station Sledge?" Piper asked. She felt nauseous after watching the torture session.

"I don't exactly remember, but I think it was when Jesus was forced to carry a heavy wooden cross through the streets." He fiddled with his cell phone.

"What are you doing Sledge?' He ignored her furiously tapping away at the keys using only one finger.

"I have booked the last flight from Dunedin to Queenstown for both of us. I know where this is all taking place. Let's move."

They sat beside a woman on the plane watching the Cardinal carry his cross through a maze of ancient Jerusalem style buildings on her laptop. All the while Roman Legionnaires walked beside the Cardinal while Ritter continually and mechanically flogged Richards.

"Such a shame." The woman turned to Sledge. He watched her close her laptop.

"If only there were someone who could lead the police to the terrible place where all this is happening, what a relief it would be to see a bloodless end to all of this but I fear the killers will kill again."

"Try and get some sleep Piper, it's going to be a long night." She rested her head on his shoulder. Sledge looked at his watch. It was one in the morning.

"I hope they don't kill again, but their track record isn't too good." He turned to brush Pipers' cheek. "Sleep, my love." She smiled cuddling up closer to him.

Chapter 13

Arriving in Queenstown Sledge rushed through the small airport terminal. They hurried across the carpark. Piper walked swiftly beside him, still half asleep. Minutes later they drove at speed down Frankton road in the direction of the Arthur's Point area hoping to miss the frequent police breathalyser checkpoints at that time of night. He rechecked his watch. Nearly two in the morning Piper, the third station where Jesus falls for the first time is about to begin."

"Meet us at the Mac Dougal's residence, Rees. You know we are good for it. Be there, and you will be the nation's hero, never mind what honours the Vatican will bestow on you for ending their humiliation."

The cell phone remained silent for a few seconds. "Negative Sledge. Cannot spare personnel. Will send two reserve officers if needed. Out." The cell beeped.

"Bloody hell, don't they teach you how to communicate over a cell phone like normal people instead of saying affirmative, negative and out?" She smiled.

"That's a negative babe." He replied chuckling. Rounding the bend at the end of Arthur's Point he noticed someone following behind. The police lights in the rear-view mirror comforted but bothered him at the same time.

Driving up to the end of the property Sledge killed the lights on the car. Crunching over the gravel, he walked to the police car idling behind them.

"Turn off the car. Follow me." Sledge didn't wait for an answer.

"There doesn't seem to be anyone up at the main house Sledge, do you think they are in the shed?" whispered Piper. She tugged his sleeve. "It is just after two in the morning Sledge. Maybe they are all asleep." He shook his head.

Sledge signalled the police officers over to where he and Piper crouched behind a stone wall. Moonlight bathed the surrounding fields and buildings with its incandescent light. Off in the distant forest, a possum cackled its mating call sending shivers down Piper's spine.

Sledge looked at the two reserve officers. One was a middle-aged man. His rotund belly jiggled when he walked. He wore trousers which were a few inches too short, showing his non-regulation white socks.

The other reserve officer was an all too eager teenage boy, maybe eighteen years old cradling a non-regulation shotgun and a sidearm.

After giving them, his best "death stare" Sledge confirmed his authority over the two policemen. "Old man Mac Dougal was always a little hesitant when it came to the shed at the end of the property. Why do you think that was?" He waited, searching the blank faces before him for an answer.

"Well, I'll tell you. When we were first here, I noticed a Roman banner. It was hidden behind the desk, the same Roman banner in the videos. They are conducting the torture session right there." He pointed to a large tin shed hidden behind a row of trees.

Illuminated by bright shards of moonlight a man dragging a wooden cross across a patch of ground between the trees into the shed. The lights from interior illuminated a group of people dressed as Roman Legionnaires

"Let's do this!" The eager teenage reservist smiled. "Rees this is Jenkins, going in!" He screamed into his radio. He glanced at Piper as he held the radio to his ear hoping to impress her.

Sledge led the way. Crouching low he moved swiftly toward the shed. Grabbing the police reservists sidearm, he heard the sounds of muffled voices and the crack of a whip. Jenkins protested for a moment then thought better of making a scene. He gripped his non-regulation shotgun in both hands instead. In the background an almost ritualistic chant was audible.

"Ready?" Sledge chambered a round in the 9 mm handgun. Heads nodded, the adrenaline rushed through their bodies. Sledge kicked the metal door open. Bursting into the shed screaming commands, they pointed their weapons at the people in the room.

"Get down you sick bastards. Anyone move and I will blow you away!" Psyched up the young reservist screamed waving his weapon around the room. He remembered watching the opening scene of "Pulp Fiction". Adrenaline ran through the young man's body. This was his most beautiful moment. Firing two rounds into the metal roof, he rested the butt of the shotgun on his hip, as he had seen actors do in all the best Action movies.

Screaming in a wild panic the stunned occupants of the shed ran in circles for a few seconds then complied with the orders.

Mr Mac Dougal knelt with the banner of the Roman Legion in his hands. In various states of bewilderment, the rest of the group lay on the floor staring down the barrels of the guns.

"Sledge, what the hell? No bloody Cardinal is carrying a wooden cross" Pointing around the room Piper gazed at the elderly people crouched down on the ground.

"What is the meaning of this? All we are doing is practising for a rendition of our Easter play." Mrs Mac Dougal screeched.

"What about in there? I can see a small door leading somewhere." Striding forward the police recruit drew level with Mr Mac Dougal.

Mr Mac Dougal abruptly stood upright. He planted the Legion's Eagle banner between himself and the advancing police recruit.

"You shall not pass!" he said theatrically gripping the hilt of the broadsword strapped to his chest armour.

Rushing forward with his non-regulation shotgun pointed at Mr Mac Dougal's chest the young policeman faced Mr Mac Dougal, who then drew his sword.

"Looks like a Mexican stand-off Piper. Wonder who will go first?"

"This is no time to joke around Sledge; do something."

"Stop playing silly buggers you two and give me those bloody weapons!" Mrs Mac Dougal stepped forward. Both men hesitated.

"Right, you won't listen!" Snatching the shotgun out of the bewildered police recruit's hands, she slapped him on the side of the head. "You wait until I let your mother know what you have been up to. And you will be here bright and early tomorrow morning to fix the holes in the bloody roof!" She screeched. He mumbled an apology.

"And you! Give me that sword before I thump you too." Dropping the sword to the ground, Mr Mac Dougal stepped back. "Don't go into the shed. It's strictly off limits to everyone. There is some very sensitive equipment in there."

"All you have in there are a few tools for your metalwork and a whole lot of copper pipes. Move over!" Once again Mrs Mac Dougal glared at her husband.

Eager to regain a little of his lost authority the police recruit strode forward. Delivering a massive kick to the door, he rushed into the small room.

"Bloody hell mate, you are in so much trouble now!" Smiling at Mrs Mac Dougal, the police recruit held out his hand for the shotgun. "I'll leave it to you to sort out, please don't tell my mother what happened earlier. And I promise to repair the roof tomorrow. My mate is a roofer. We will sort it out. No worries Mrs Mac." He stood beside Sledge and Piper, a wide grin spreading across his face. The elderly police reservist stood where he had from the beginning, at the door. He looked on in puzzled amusement.

Mrs Mac Dougal stormed into the room followed by a couple of the amateur actors. They were craning their necks to see what was in the shed Sledge and Piper burst out laughing.

"Not a bad setup you have here Mr Mac Dougal. Any chance we might get a sample or two." Sledge smiled.

"That's where my pressure cooker got to! I have been looking all over the damn place for it, and here you have it hooked up to all these bloody copper pipes!" Storming through the small room, she stared at the home-made moonshine still.

"It was done in the name of Science my love, stop acting like a bloody battle axe and try a glass or two." He poured the clear liquid into a small metal cup.

Glaring at her husband Mrs Mac Dougal took a sip.

"God damn it, puts hair on your chest it does." Holding the cup out for a refill, Mrs Mac Dougal smiled in approval.

"Can I have some too? It's to steady my nerves after the shock." An elderly lady dressed as the Virgin Mary took a swig from a bottle. One by one the actors squeezed into the room.

"I will have to send a Sitrep to the guys in charge. Wait here and don't go anywhere for the moment." Pointing to a narrow bench, the older police recruit instructed Sledge and Piper to sit down.

"What's a Sitrep Sledge?" Piper whispered.

"It means a situation report. I don't think it will be very good for us. Time to disappear."

"That's a positive Sir. Nothing here except amateur actors. It was a wild goose chase." Hesitating for a moment, the police recruit glanced over at Sledge and Piper.

"Affirmative Sir, we will detain them and take them back to the station."

He turned around cursing loudly. Both suspects had disappeared into the night.

Chapter 14

"Jump in Piper, give me a second." He ran toward the police car. Opening the door, he took the keys from the ignition. Throwing the keys into the bush Sledge quickly got into Piper's car.

"Mostly everyone leaves the keys in the ignition here. Maybe our police reservists will learn a lesson from this." He started the car.

"I hope you don't mind if I drive Piper." He drove towards Queenstown. She shook her head.

"Are they following us?" Staring at the passenger side mirror, Piper looked at the headlights approaching quickly from behind.

"Nah, I can see the sign on the bonnet of the car. It's just a Taxi." Sledge felt the tension drain away.

"It's time to regroup and take stock of the situation. It's been four hours since the last transmission we saw down in Dunedin. There must have been more since then if that madman Orcus is broadcasting his exploits live. Let's turn in here." He pulled into a small side street.

Across the road, a crowd stood outside a pub. Usually, an international Rugby match or maybe the Football World Cup attracted such a huge crowd. Under normal circumstances the pubs would soon be closing, this, however, was far from ordinary. Now everyone watched the slow degradation and suffering of a Catholic Cardinal while drinking beer.

"Simon helped Jesus carry his cross, station five on the Cardinals Calvary." The metallic voice blurted out over the pub's surround system. Sledge ordered a beer and a Bourbon and Coke. He stared at the faces of the people in the pub entirely intrigued by the spectacle.

"People are betting on the Cardinal's survival Sledge. Most think he will not make it past the tenth or eleventh station. What do you think?" Piper drained her Bourbon and Coke in one long gulp.

"I don't normally do that Sledge, but I have no idea what the next few hours hold." Putting down her empty glass on the table, Piper looked at Sledge.

"That bastard is currently under investigation for child abuse." Sledge overheard three burly men pouring beer out of a jug.

"Hope the bastard gets what he deserves, do you know what he did?" He turned to see who had commented. An elderly lady sat at a table surrounded by what looked like members of the Shakspearian Society.

"May he be damned in hell." Replied a professor wearing a football shirt with Orcus on the back where the player's name would generally be.

"Again, we are on the run. The police have cameras all over town and even here in the pub. How long do you think it will be before we are arrested?" She stared at the Pub menu.

"God, I'm hungry. How about bangers and mash?" Piper nudged Sledge.

"Okay, I'm starving too. Piper, look at their shadows. It is an artificial light, a studio maybe. Check out the background for any details." Pointing up at the sizeable T.V screen Sledge stared hoping to find a clue.

Sledge's cell phone beeped, he slipped unnoticed out of the crowded pub.

"So, my friend I presume you have been following the events. Good news, an angry mob in Guatemala lynched a priest, another priest in Texas was dragged down the road tied to the back of a pickup truck. Have you seen the support we have? Millions of viewers worldwide are watching. T-shirts and other merchandise are being sold like hot cakes. They even have a few support groups on Facebook encouraging us to see it through to the end. We are sitting on a goldmine Sledge, literally a gold mine." The phone went dead.

"That was our friend Orcus. He seems to be very happy with things so far, and why wouldn't he be?" Sledge watched the news report alternate between a worldwide police search for the Cardinal and a vigil outside the Vatican by the faithful.

Hungrily they ate their food then decided to get a breath of fresh air outside. Sledge held Piper's hand as they walked along the lakefront in the moonlight.

"Okay, it's decided then. We are the only ones who have any clue as to the whereabouts of the Cardinal. The police won't believe us now, especially after the fiasco down at the Mac Dougal's." Sledge led Piper by the hand through the crowd still watching the Television replays.

"There was something he said which might be a clue but then again why would Orcus want us to find him?" He sat on the grass on the Village Green watching the ducks scrambling for hot chips thrown by a tourist beside the stream.

"We are sitting on a gold mine, literally. That was what Orcus said." He lit a cigarette. Sledge dragged deeply feeling his lungs hurt. He watched the smoke exhaled twirl in the light of the bridge.

"I know what you are thinking Sledge. Everyone is out looking for Orcus and the Cardinal from New York to Timbuctoo, but none of them makes the connection between the limited size of the area in which the incidents happened and the possibility of Orcus being a local.

Piper drove her car through Queenstown. Their mood was one of nervousness tinged with dread.

"This is it Sledge do you think we will make it in time?' Piper turned onto the narrow sand road leading toward Skippers Canyon.

"Not the best vehicle for a road know as one of the most dangerous in the world." She smiled slightly, the car rumbled and clattered over the narrow wooden single lane suspension bridge.

"What could go, wrong Piper, it's pitch black, starting to rain and the track is getting more muddy and slippery by the minute?" Playfully he tussled her hair then looked out of the side window.

Cut out of the side of a mountain by gold miners a century ago the rockface was inches away from his door of the car. On the other side, a sheer drop of a few hundred feet into the raging river below awaited them if they lost control. A fine mist began rising from the waters of the Shotover river.

"Keep going, Piper. You are doing a great job." He encouraged her as she weaved around hairpin bends straining to see the narrow track in front of the car through the fog.

"Turn on the demister Sledge. I can hardly see out of the windscreen."

He flicked the dial on the dashboard. Warm air flooded the car.

"Always wanted to get hot and steamy with you in a car." He joked.

"Might just happen if we get out of here Sledge." She smiled shyly.

Sledge reach out placing his hand on her thigh. Gently she touched his hand squeezing slightly.

"Oh my God!" Piper slammed on the brakes. Small pebbles began dropping a few feet in front of the car.

"Go, go, go, hit it, Piper!" Staring at the narrow road illuminated by the headlights he clenched his teeth at the sound of the pebbles hitting the roof of the car. Piper slammed the accelerator to the floor.

Tires were sliding in the mud as the car sped forward down the narrow track. Larger stones and rocks bounced off of the vehicle. He turned to look out of the rear window. Boulders fell across the path behind them. A rock shattered the windscreen. Piper screamed losing control. Gripping the steering wheel, she swerved to avoid a large boulder tumbling down the mountain missing the car by inches.

Sliding sideways, the car came to a halt on the edge of the precipice. "Don't move Piper!" Sledge held onto the dashboard as the car teetered on the brink.

"Holy shit! This is like some B-Grade movie. I can't believe we are going to die like this." She screamed. Tears ran down her cheeks.

Battering the car door, Sledge cursed. "Bloody thing is stuck."

"I can't jump out this side either Sledge. All I can see are the rapids rushing past underneath!" Whitewater coursed beneath Pipers side of the car. A small tree dislodged by the car dropped into the river only to be swept away seconds later by the current.

"Into the back seat quick!" He grabbed her shoulder.

"This is hardly the time Sledge!"

Adrenaline rushed through his body. He kicked with all his might against the rear window of the car. It shattered but still held. Again, he kicked. This time his foot went through the glass. Bits of shatterproof glass tumbled to the floor. Extricating his foot painfully through the shards, Sledge gave the last kick then punched a hole big enough for them to fit through one at a time.

"Out you go, babe." Piper put her head through the gap. Sledge placed his hand on her butt and gave her a push. Teetering back and forth the car swayed in the strong winds driven up by the storm.

Sledge dived through the hole in the rear window. Jagged glass cut into his jacket. He landed almost on top of Piper. She rolled to the left. He moved to the right. She lay on top of him. For a moment they stared into each other's eyes. Rain splashed over their faces. He felt the warmth of her body. He wrapped his arms around her. Slowly they tentatively kissed. He held her tightly, they kissed again, this time unleashing the passion withheld until now.

Slowly the car tipped over the edge. "Where do we go from here Sledge?" He shrugged his shoulders.

"It's not too far away, possibly another ten minutes' walk in this weather. Come this way." He took off his jacket and put it over her shoulders. Taking her hand, he walked along a narrow track through the bushes.

"Remember this place when we were kids?" They stared down from a rocky outcrop high above the river.

Hesitating for a moment Piper's eyes lit up.

"Hell yes, this is the rock we used to jump off and into the river. I was terrified when I jumped off of the ledge and into the river."

"So was I but we all did it. I remember you splashing water in my face all the time."

"Yes, I was trying to get your attention, but all you did was dunk my head underwater." She smiled shaking her head.

"Sorry, I was just an awkward teenager. Can I make up for it now.?" He held her tightly kissing her until light in the distance brought them back to reality.

"Did you see that? Someone's out there and its where we used to play in the old mining sheds and tunnels."

"Yes, I think I saw it too." Piper stared into the inky blackness of the night, squinting against the rain driven by the strong winds.

Soaking wet they climbed down the narrow ledge leading to a collection of old mining huts left where they stood during the gold rush. Anyone else would have walked right on by in the dark oblivious to the fact that there were old huts and miles of tunnels carved out of the rock by hand all those years ago.

"I wish we had kept the night vision goggles now. Things would be a whole lot easier if we could see what was going on around us." Leading her by the hand along the side of a rusting tin shed Sledge quietly moved toward the spot where he had seen the light.

"Stay here. I'm going to have a look at what's going on there." He nodded in the direction of an old abandoned shed. Piper nodded kneeling. She tried sheltering from the lashing rain.

Treading carefully, Sledge slid past the tin shed searching for any sign of movement. In the distance, he was sure he heard a noise. Slowly he advanced toward what must have been the entrance to an underground cavern. His hand touched something that made him hesitate for a moment. Plastic coated wires.

Reaching down Sledge held his hand on the wires. Rain cascaded down the back of his shirt. He shivered to feel the cold air creep through his body. Carefully he followed the wires until he reached a narrow shaft. Staring down into the darkness Sledge wondered how far the wires went. He turned to retrace his steps. In the wind, he was sure he heard Piper scream. Sledge rushed toward the shed where he had left her.

"Piper, it's me Sledge! Where the hell are you?" He whispered hoarsely. He called out, again and again, nothing. She had vanished into thin air.

Chapter 15

Circling the battered shed where he had left Piper, he searched for any clue which might reveal what happened to her.

Fighting against the inherent desire to rush blindly after her, Sledge crouched down in the shadows and waited. Scanning the darkness, he saw no movement other than the scrub blowing in the wind.

"There is only one way to go, down the tunnel." He followed the wires until he reached the shaft entrance.

Memories of summers spent panning for gold near the river during his childhood resurfaced. An image of Robert, Piper and himself dropping rocks down the old ventilation shaft played through his mind.

"Damn it. I seem to recall the shaft was pretty deep." Slipping over the edge, he grabbed at the rotting wooden supports climbing down into the depths of the shoulder width vent.

Rainwater cascaded down bringing with it the occasional shower of pebbles. He hesitated, wondering how he would be able to get back up to the surface if the bottom of the shaft was flooded with water.

Putting his weight on a wooden support beam, he looked down. Without warning the rotten beam crumbled, Sledge slid downward clutching at the rough rock surface.

The muddy dirt covered floor of the shaft stopped his fall. His bones ached from the strain of the climb and the sudden impact after hitting the bottom of the shaft. Struggling for breath, he lay on the ground feeling the rain and dirty dropping down the shaft onto his face. Bright lights shot through his head. Sledge felt his vision blur. Gasping, he lost consciousness.

Fighting against a feeling of nausea Sledge heard movement close by to where he lay. Sledge had no idea how long he had been unconscious.

He waved his arms around in front of him expecting to feel the cold stone walls of the cavern. Reaching out his arm Sledge walked like a blind man toward the scuttling sound he heard somewhere out there in the darkness.

"Piper! Is that you?" He whispered then swore walking straight into a wooden support beam.

"That hurt like hell! Enough messing around, find Piper." he thought. Kneeling Sledge felt along the gravel-covered floor of the chamber until he found what he was looking around for.

Slowly he ran his hand over the wires running along the floor. The cables would lead him to the main cavern if he remembered correctly. Someone had spent time and money, a lot of money on setting up a place to perform the last murder. He toyed with the idea of cutting the wires. Possibly someone would come to investigate the cut in power, and he could follow them back. Then he thought of Piper. She might be on some Live Stream internet site about to be killed in one of Orca's perverted rituals.

Sledge sniffed the air. There it was again, the smell of freshly cooked bacon permeating the air. Groping through the dark Sledge felt along the rough wall hewn from solid rock. Turning a corner Sledge's eyes stung as smoke drifted slowly up through a small air shaft directly above a pit. In the pale light of the smouldering embers, Sledge stood rooted to the spot.

There was no mistaking it. A burnt body hung from the ceiling of the cave by chains around its wrists. Sledge reached out his hand touching the blackened calf muscle of the victim. Chunks of slow-cooked flesh crumbled away in his hands. Sledge backed away as fast as he could, wiping his hand on the ground slamming into the cave wall. Close by a glimmer of light broke through the inky blackness, he hurried toward the source picking up speed as he ran.

Sledge moved faster until he crashed into a plywood barricade. It was built to hide the light emanating from the adjacent room. The plywood board was not meant to withstand a shoulder charge. Sledge slammed through the board landing on the floor in the opposite chamber in a shower of splintered wood and dust.

He stared at the bright lights hanging from the ceiling of the cavern. The cavern and tunnels had been carved by hand out of the rock during the gold rush.

Figures emerged from the shadows, menacing dark silhouettes. Sledge reached out for a wooden stick about the size of a baseball bat. "Ow, that hurt! you bloody dick!" Sledge cursed. A heavy foot wearing a leather sandal pinned his arm to the stone floor.

He pulled back feeling the cold metal tip of a sword against his throat.

"Get up and come this way!" One of the four men in the chamber ordered. Hesitantly Sledge got to his feet. For a second, he stared at the men in disbelief.

"Off to a fancy-dress party, are we? All dressed up and nowhere to go?" Sledge smirked sarcastically.

"Enough of your smartass remarks Sledge!" One of them slapped him across the back with the flat of his heavy metal sword. Cursing in pain Sledge held up his hands and complied.

Manhandled by the men through the small chamber Sledge felt a chill run down his spine. He had found the place they had been searching for. Dressed in the uniform of the Imperial Roman army the four men shoved Sledge through a narrow doorway. All of them wore white masks over their faces. Their short stabbing swords were real enough, as were the spears two of the men carried.

Sledge looked around an immense room which looked like a film studio. Powerful lights hung from the ceiling or stood on metal tripods at specific points.

For a moment he felt as if he had stumbled into another world. A short while before he was in the wilderness of Otago, seconds later he found himself in a film studio. Half empty coffee cups and a coffee machine stood on a table. Clipboards, miles of cables and electric lights lay neatly stacked in a corner. Stale sandwiches and snacks lay untouched on a platter.

A bright green screen covered three sides of the large studio. Two small rooms looking like prison cells had been constructed at the far end. Their use remained a mystery to Sledge, for the moment. He looked up at the big screen T.V fixed to the wall above one of the rooms.

Sledge noticed dark stains on the layer of sand thickly spread over the floor.

"Could that be from the Cardinal's blood?" He thought.

"Well, if it is not the famed Mr Sledge. How good of you to grace us with your company." A now all too familiar metallic voice crackled over loudspeakers hung from the ceiling somewhere.

"Very dramatic dashing in like that, all to save your sweetheart."

Sledge wondered if Orcus was in the room or watching the events through one of the cameras set up in such a way they covered all corners of the studio.

"There was an easier way of getting in here. All you had to do was take the stairs which are easily accessible from inside the old shed you were snooping around." Metallic laughter filled the room.

"What have you done with Piper? Touch her, and I swear I will find you and kill you very slowly." Sledge spat at the camera nearest him.

"Slow down bro, she is safe, and no-one has hurt her." One of the Roman Legionnaires muttered whipping the spit from the camera lens with a cloth.

"Attention!" the Roman soldiers snapped to attention in the manner in which professional soldiers do.

From the shadows Sledge watched a figure emerged, he too was dressed in Roman uniform, but on his helmet, he wore the red crest of a Centurion. The horse's hair dyed red and styled into a plume indicated that he commanded a company of Legionnaires numbering one hundred men.

Unlike the others, he wore a silver mask. His uniform seemed more elegant, more vibrant than the simple soldiers. Sledge stood to face a new threat.

"Welcome Sledge, you are just in time to witness the next step of the Calvary. Our Cardinal has been seen to by a medical expert ensuring he goes the distance. In his day Jesus must have been a hell of a lot fitter, what with walking everywhere not like these fat bastards in the church are nowadays."

"Where is Piper? I want to see her now!" Sledge took a step toward the masked Centurion. Raising their swords and spears, the Legionnaires barred his way.

"To hell with you, idiots. This is not one of your stupid make-believe scenes for Facebook, where is she?"

Feinting a lunge at one Legionnaire then a split second later, he turned and elbowed another Legionnaire in the throat, grabbing the sword out of his hand. Sledge struck one of the Legionnaires across the helmet with the short stabbing sword. Dropping to the ground the man held his head in his hands screaming in pain.

A second Legionnaire swooped on Sledge. His sword held high, ready to strike. Blocking the blow Sledge slammed the hilt of the sword into the Legionnaire's face. Blood gushed from the wound.

Holding out their lances threateningly the two remaining Legionnaires advanced on Sledge. There was something in his eyes that unnerved them. Instead of the fear that they had hoped to instil in their target, the target remained calm. He took a step forward meeting their attack.

"Enough!" The Centurion roared. He held a revolver outstretched, pointed directly at Sledge.

"Here you have fifty thousand dollars in this briefcase. Turn and walk away and it is yours." He opened a briefcase displaying wads of one-hundred-dollar notes.

"Stay and make a nuisance of yourself and I give you my word you will regret it."

As if to emphasise his point he fired a round past Sledge's head. The bullet skipped off of the rock wall. Sledge glared at the Centurion.

"Shove your money bro, where is Piper?"

"Don't make me do it, Sledge, you know we can carry on just fine without you." He fired again, this time the bullet cut into Sledge's shoulder. Blood ran down his arm. For a moment he felt sickened to the stomach, shock creeping in. Forcing himself to calm down Sledge gripped his shoulder.

"Come with me my good man, as I said you had served your purpose, for now, but we could always use men like you. Our doctor will see you now." Keeping his distance, all the while still training the revolver on Sledge, the Centurion directed Sledge to one of the small rooms at the far end.

"What the hell is he on about?" Sledge wondered. He looked up to see a figure in a blood-stained apron walking toward him.

"Lie down while I take a look at your shoulder." Leading Sledge into the room the doctor knelt rummaging through his bag. He briefly inspected Sledge's wound.

"Not too bad mate, nothing a wound dressing can't fix." Binding a field dressing around Sledge's shoulder he nodded to the adjacent room. Both rooms were roughly the same size as a small garden shed.

"She is in the next room. Follow me I and I will escort you there." The medic signalled the Legionnaires to remain where they were.

Sledge watched the doctor slip through the narrow doorway. The Legionnaires were still standing around unsure what to do next. One of them glared at Sledge holding his hand over his broken and bleeding front teeth. Bolting through the door Sledge shouldered the doctor aside.

"Sorry mate, but I have to see if she is alright."

"Piper, what have they done to you?" He knelt next to her, cradling Piper in his arms. A Legionnaire stormed through the doorway. Sledge kicked the man in the face grabbing his sword. Sledge cut the rope tied around Piper's hands. He turned to face the attack he knew would come from the other side of the door, sword in hand he waited.

"Going live in two, one!" Shouted the technician. He zoomed in the cameras. From a corner stepped a Roman General, his purple cape blowing in the artificial wind created by the studio fans. Standing tall and imposing the General wore a gold mask. Holding his hand outstretched, the General saluted the Centurion and the Legionnaires who snapped to attention.

"Bravo, bravo! I always thought the two of you were meant for each other. You have my blessings. When this is over, remember me. The world will commemorate the death of the Cardinal as the turning point in the Catholic Church's policy on child abuse. From here on those guilty of this most despicable sin will be judged and sentenced to hard labour or death." Orcus droned over the speakers, his voice reverberating in the narrow confines of the cavern.

"We have tried, but the Pope has now refused the American clergy from voting on a plan to hand over abuse accusations to the police. The Pope insists the matter should be investigated internally by the Vatican. This decision goes against everything we are fighting for." Orcus announced.

Spinning around the Centurion suddenly started rocking, he broke into song. "Breaking rocks in the hot sun, I fought the law and the law won!" He held his hands toward the heavens. Outside the thunderstruck, splitting trees, showering sparks into the atmosphere pregnant with tension and hate. He now stood in the doorway.

"They will not sit in the average Western prison where the convicts have access to unlimited Wifi nor will they spend their days playing PlayStation. It will be as it was before, they will work for their food. They will craft bricks from straw and mud if they do not meet the required 1000 bricks per day they will not receive food. They will build roads from scratch as our Roman brethren did. If they do not reach a specified length of roadway, they do not eat until they do."

"What the hell is happening Sledge, I was waiting for you then the next thing I know is that someone is pressing a knife into my throat and drags me down here." She whispered holding Sledge's hand.

Barking orders at the Legionnaires the Centurion looked over to where Piper and Sledge waited, crouched in the doorway of the room.

"Take this. Keep your eye on them." Placing an assault rifle on the Technician's desk, the Centurion turned his attention to a narrow doorway beside the far end of the green screen.

"It's nearly time gentlemen. Get them out here now." Pointing to a large clock on the wall, the Centurion clapped his hands.

A Legionnaire disappeared through the dark and narrow doorway. A few minutes later he remerged followed by the doctor and Cardinal Richards.

The General walked calmly toward the centre stage while Richards lay on a stretcher carried by two Legionnaires wearing white masks over their faces.

Hovering over Cardinal Richards, the doctor examined the beaten and bloody priest. He turned to the Centurion giving him the thumbs up.

"Perfect, quite a tough old bastard. Let's continue." Waving the Legionnaires forward, he supervised the next step of the Calvary.

"They seem to have left us alone for the moment Piper. I know you will want to stay and somehow stop all of this. Wait for the right moment before we act." He put his arm around her shoulder.

"I knew you would say that I know you want to finish this so let's see what we can do. Orcus and his men are ready for the next station."

Chapter 16

"We have to fast forward, unfortunately, but I am sure you can understand the pressure we are under. Trying to accomplish what we have set out to achieve before the police get here is a daunting task. It won't change things overnight, but we are committed to our cause." The General spoke directly to Sledge and Piper over the speaker system. Sledge noticed a small microphone and ear set behind the General's mask.

"Possibly you will be the only survivors. Tell them how we kept true to our word until the end." He turned to walk away.

"Tell who, and what cause?" Sledge shouted above the noise of the special effects machines in the room.

"What the hell do you think Sledge? Tell the world that fourteen men sacrificed their lives so that in the future innocent children will not suffer abuse at the hands of the clergy. We have lost our souls, our will to live. We are many as I have already stated." He turned to face the camera.

"Our men have been trained in the art of warfare. Some have specialised in the brainwashing techniques of M.K Ultra. You will not know which of the priests beside you have been subjected to the treatment, ready to act at the mere mention of a code word which will send them on a murderous rampage. The priests sent to pray for forgiveness in remote areas, did we control those areas and subject them to the M.K treatment? As in any guerilla war, we operate in small cells. We strike when needed and when we are sure of achieving victory. I will admit that the M.K technique used by the C.I.A was rudimentary at best. Decades of research have taught us how to suggest an operative to go from the old time forcefully, initially suggested three seconds suggested kill time on a command word to achieving minutes if not hours of mind control of a subject."

He paused for effect. The wind billowed, his cape tugged by the wind. Lightning flashes and thunder accentuated his stature.

"That priest who is standing beside you right now, has he been conditioned by our people? How does it feel to be the hunted? Roles have now been reversed." The cameras turned on the Centurion.

Striding forward, the Centurion barked an order.

"Squad, "shun!" as one, the Legionnaires snapped to attention.

"Bloody hell Sledge, he didn't mean you too!" Piper elbowed Sledge in the ribs.

"I didn't mean to." He stammered. At the command bringing the Legionnaires to attention, Sledge had subconsciously stiffened, almost snapping to attention himself.

"This guy is ex-military." Sledge pointed at the Centurion's arm.

"Yes, I see the scar on his arm. Does he remind you of anyone Sledge?" Piper asked knowing full well who was standing before them.

"Father Smith, what the hell are you doing?"

The Centurion turned suddenly. For a second, he stared at Sledge.

"Well done Sledge." he pulled his mask off.

"I knew you would understand. We fought as soldiers do. In the beginning, it is for Queen and country. After a few friends killed, a few enemies' dead you change." He threw his mask to the floor.

"We were pawns in a game, manipulated by the people who sell weapons and profit from war financially."

He continued. "I had nightmares which still plague me, I held friends and foe alike in my arms gripping my hand tightly, listened to their screams and ultimately watched the light go out in their eyes. I joined the priesthood to atone for my sins. God never stopped the nightmares, the sweats and screams or gunshots in my mind that only I could hear. That was all in my head. People talked and laughed at dinner parties. I would hear gunfire, and my hands shook. There was no gunfire, except somewhere in my subconscious mind. How are we supposed to be normal?" He shook his head.

"What did I find? I will tell you. A few good men believed in the church. Others were the rejects of society. That type who take advantage, they either become second-hand car dealers or join the priesthood. Imagine an ego big enough to fill a room, imagine an entire town prostrating themselves before you for some skygod which has caused the death of millions. They suddenly have power, adoration. What stops them from going further?"

The Legionnaires stood to attention listening.

"What do you do when a comrade calls you in the night saying he can't take the flashbacks and nightmares anymore?" He pointed his lance toward Sledge's chest.

"I go to his aid and help a brother who fought for my survival." Sledge replied.

"Good, and what do you think we have here?" Father Smith waved his hand toward the Legionnaires.

"I will tell you. Here we have twelve young men, victims of Cardinal Richards sexual abuse. Others have put an end to their lives through shame and guilt. Here we have twelve young men willing to sacrifice their lives so that other young children may be spared the devastating effects of sexual abuse. We are a brotherhood, not unlike the brotherhood of combat. But still we fight, every day against the sin we were told to understand that the priests would never be brought to justice for. We knew it was wrong, but those in charge of the community, those that everyone looked up to said that it was not a sin, but we must keep quiet. Otherwise, we risked eternal damnation. Suffer little children, send the child to me. How do you live with knowing a pervert sodomised you as a child and now walks free? Where is the justice for the innocent?" Father Smith strode purposefully toward Richards.

"We are no longer the weak. We are no longer ten or twelve-year-old children. We are now Doctors, lawyers or heads of government, in the military. How do you think you were released from police custody Sledge? One of our high-ranking boys in the police department. That's how. We have at our disposal some of the world's leading experts in many fields. How do you think we can hack into Television networks around the world or get the funding needed for this operation? Cardinal Richards was the top financial man in the Vatican which has paid out billions in reparation for crimes committed by the clergy to a fraction of the victims who have taken them to court. It didn't take much persuasion to get him to syphon off funds for our operation. Cash isn't something we are short on."

"Long story short Sledge. Richards had a young lover. Twenty million dollars was the price on his head. Richards thought it was a joke. We sent videos of his fingers being shot off one by one. The ransom went up to thirty million. Richards refused to pay with the funds he was responsible for from the church's financial organisations.

Richards lovers head was delivered to his villa. Next came the documented proof of Richards own sexual abuse. From then onward we have never been short of funds. And by the way, Richards may for propaganda purposes reached his sell-by date we have made contact with his successor and have as much or even more dirt on that bastard. So, money is not an objective for us, not now nor in the future."

"You said there are twelve of you. Including yourself, I see only thirteen in the room dressed as Roman Legionnaires. Who is number fourteen Smith, the General who seems to be in charge of everything?" Looking at Smith, Sledge waited for an answer to his question.

"You will see him soon enough. Technicians and others, you see here volunteered their services, but the core group of fourteen are the Roman Legionnaires you see before you. It's symbolic in a way. The whole world will witness his act of retribution. Patience for now."

Smith turned to Sledge and Piper. His eyes shone with fanaticism.

"Oh! Don't be disappointed that for the moment you are spectators. We have something extraordinary lined up for the two of you. When this is all over you will be given special training and sent out to do something that will change the Roman Catholic church forever. You were brought into this for a reason my friends. One day when this is over, Orcus will have a message for you both. He will leave a mask and a message, mark my words. The Pope will see you as saviours. Maybe he will request your presence. Sledge, maybe your photo will be the one in a million like the flag raising by the Marines on Iwo Jima or the iconic photo by Hector Rondon of the priest and the dying soldier in Venezuela in 1962. Who knows what the future holds for us."

"That priest Sledge, a Navy Chaplain by the name Luis Padilla, braved gunfire from the bloody communist bastard rebels for forty-five minutes to administer last rites to mortally wounded soldiers. The photographer hit the deck for all that time with the led flying in all directions. The priest stood upright in the face of enemy fire. How are we to equal such a deed? We will be known as the bad guys, but we will make a safer world for those that follow. Look at the photo, imagine you are the mother and father of the soldier on his knees, blood seeping from a wound in his upper body holding onto the priest. How do you handle your son's death forever captured on film constantly before your eyes?" Smith seemed lost alternating between devout duty and shell shock from past events forever scaring his mind.

A chill smile played on his thin lips. He turned to issue further commands to his men.

"I presume you missed the scene with Ritter. Take a look at the screen." All eyes in the room turned to the screens.

Sledge watched the playback. Ritter appeared naked except for a small loin cloth covering his lower regions. He struggled against the chains binding his arms. His feet kicked wildly at the dry kindling at the foot of the wooden stake at which he was tied.

Richards hovered over him holding a white-hot metal poker in his hand. Richards moved closer to Ritter.

"Bishop Ritter was very careless. He kept photographs of the boys and underaged girls he abused. The photos were for his perverted pleasure, but they fell into the wrong hands. Along with Father Matterson, he sought to keep a record of his fellow clergymen suspected of child abuse over the years as a means of blackmailing them into silence if needed. But there was one thing he never considered, that someday someone would find the list of names and systematically hunt down the persons responsible." The voice droned.

"Prisoners of war are forced to point revolvers at the back of the heads of their friends. Some choose to pull the trigger, more often than not the weapon is not loaded. This type of manipulation is for propaganda purposes. People will see how readily an enemy prisoner will kill one of his comrades and it is used against the prisoners."

Richards hovered over Ritter.

"This is all the fault of Ritter as you know Cardinal Richards. We will free you from your sins if you bring Ritter to justice." The metallic voice crackled over the speakers.

"Ritter screamed watching Richards slowly moving toward him. The white-hot branding iron drew ever closer to his forehead.

Ritter screamed for mercy. Richards slammed the white-hot iron onto Ritter's forehead. Burnt into his flesh was the sign of the cross.

"This is all the fault of your Arch Bishop. The lashes you have received, the situation you now find yourself in, it is all because of him. Do what you must Cardinal Richards. Set the kindling on fire as your kind did during the witch hunts or walk away and suffer the consequences." Orcus droned in a monotone voice. The cameras focused on Richards holding a lighted torch. Its flame licked the kindling around Ritter's stake.

Richards stared vacantly at Ritter squirming on the strake. Blood ran down Ritter's wrists as he struggled against the metal chains.

"Fire, fire, fire!" echoed across the cavern.

Mechanically Richards stooped forward. The torch ignited the kindling. Smoke rose slowly at first then puffed outward growing ever larger. Flames sprang to life almost as if by a miracle. Red and yellow tongues of fire licked at Ritter's feet. He cried out in panic and fear.

"Will he die a fiery death or not? How do you vote?" Instruments of medieval torture flashed across the screen.

In a macabre version of roulette, the pictures flashed until the rack was shown accompanied by rousing cheers. Minutes later millions of dollars in donations poured into an offshore account.

Ritter lay on a wooden rack. A man dressed in a black robe wearing a hood turned the ratchets on a wheel. Ritter screamed in pain as his limbs were stretched to breaking point.

Slashing the ropes with a knife the hooded torturer pushed Ritter onto a wooden chair where thumbscrews were applied. Ritter screamed as his thumbs were slowly crushed.

"Enough, we have no time for this spectacle. Finish it!" Orcus commanded.

Once again Ritter was chained to the stake. Richards hovered closer with the flaming torch.

"Fire, fire, fire!" Richards suddenly reacted to the code word screamed over the speaker system.

Slowly he touched the flame to the kindling. Ritter screamed. Fighting against the searing heat Ritter cut his wrists on the metal chains binding him to the wooden stake.

The camera zoomed in on Ritter's already blistering feet. His legs and torso were soon engulfed in flames. His death cry resounded across the cavern as the fire took hold of his flesh. Black and blistering Ritter writhed in pain. Mercifully he soon lost consciousness due to the lack of oxygen or pain. His burnt body hung limply from the chains binding his wrist.

The Vatican sent a letter of protest to the heads of governments while two million in donations went into the offshore account. Television rights soared, and merchandise sales of the latest execution rolled off the shelves in the form of T-Shirts, mugs and even soap.

Chapter 17

"Make sure everyone is standing in front of the green screens. Continue with the mission." Smith ordered.

"Are the cameras rolling?" He turned to the man sitting behind a desk cramped with electronic boards.

He was given the thumbs up signal.

"I stand before you, a victim of Cardinal Richards. He abused me for two years. My name is Gary Smith." Father Smith moved menacingly close to Cardinal Richards.

"Remember me, sick fuck?" He drew his broadsword.

"I was eight years old. You forced me to perform oral sex on you in the change room when I was an altar boy."

The sword flashed, blood spurted down Cardinal Richards chest.

"Legionnaires, unmask!" For a moment the Legionnaires hesitated unfamiliar with the command.

One by one they took off their masks. Piper's heart beat furiously.

"What if Robert is one of the men here?" She pointed to the Legionnaires.

"Tell the world who you are and what the Cardinal did to you. You have all followed the legal steps and have been denied justice. Take your revenge now, the proverbial pound of flesh!"

The first man stepped forward.

"Remember me. I am John Taylor." The Cardinal gaped recognising the man.

"You forced me to suck your cock and then sodomised me. I was ten years old." He drew his sword.

"I attempted to have you prosecuted, but the charges were dropped because the statute of limitations stipulated that a charge is brought before the prosecutors within ten years of the crime having been committed. You walked free to carry on your evil deeds. But now you will pay for your sins!"

"Revenge is sweet!" Slowly John Tailor cut a deep wound across Cardinal Richards chest. Blood gushed from the gaping wound. The Cardinal cried out in pain.

One by one the men stepped forward. Each man drew blood. The doctor administered first aid to the Cardinal, only for the sake of keeping the process going.

In millions of homes, people watched the gruesome spectacle. Church attendance dropped to almost zero. Parish priests barricaded themselves in their vestibules.

"We are running out of time. Our brothers informed me of recent developments. Prepare for the final station!" Father Smith shouted receiving a call on his cell phone.

"In the meantime, I am sure those of you at home must be wondering what has happened to our beloved Arch Bishop Ritter. I am happy to announce your votes did not go uncounted. Here is the outcome of your votes, you as individuals each chose his fate. Behold his death." Most Television stations were now interrupting their usual programs for the footage received from an anonymous person on the dark web.

Arch Bishop Ritter kicked and screamed being manhandled by a hooded man dragging him into a small enclosure. Slammed in the stomach by the executioner he doubled up in pain gasping for breath. The hooded man snapped iron manacles around Arch Bishop Ritter's wrists. The torture session played again on air, this time on many more Networks.

Footage of his torture session aired on channels worldwide. Work came to a halt in many countries. Everyone's attention focused on the fate of the two priests. Governments threatened their populace with hefty fines if they watched or shared the footage. Money poured in again to the off-shore account. Was it from victims or simply sadistic reality show addicts?

Chapter 18

Piper stared at the people standing in front of the green screen.

"The special effects are all done through a process known as Chroma Key. We easily pick up the difference between the green screen and the people standing in front. We then replace the background with anything you can imagine." Smiling at Piper, the technician looked her up and down.

She turned to look at the T.V screen on the wall above the room. Lightning streaked across a darkening sky. Dust clouds gathered in the distance.

Positioned off-screen two large fans created an artificial gust of wind in the studio fanning the clothes of the people around the green screen.

Raging winds coupled with the sounds of a storm echoed over the loudspeakers adding to the dramatic effects.

Millions of viewers all over the world watched in horror. On their screens, in their homes, they prepared to witness a man being nailed to a cross. The background they saw was that of Golgotha. In the foreground, Roman Legionnaires stood over the prostrate figure of Cardinal Richards. Two Legionnaires held the Cardinals arms outstretched while another restrained his legs.

Father Smith held up a handmade iron nail. The camera zoomed in on the thick, rough spike.

Music composed so many years ago by Franz Liszt blared over the speakers. Smith raised the wooden mallet. Piercing flesh and shattering bone the nail went through Richards left wrist. Again, Smith hammered down, embedding the nail in the wooden cross between the Cardinals wrist bones.

He did not drive the nail through the palm as stipulated by the Bible because it would not work. The skin would be too soft to support the weight of the body resulting in the hand being torn from the nail by the weight of the condemned man.

Cruelly dragging out the torture Smith took his time nailing Richards right wrist to the cross.

"Fun fact, only one bioarcheological example of crucifixion has ever been found. Normally the condemned would be bound hand and foot. Stripped naked and left to die. Let's stick to the Biblical version for the moment." Whispered the technician.

Smith hammered a nail through Cardinal Richards left ankle, bone shattered. The Cardinal screamed in pain. Smith drove the second nail through Richards right foot.

"Oh, my God. I want to puke." She buried her face in Sledge's chest.

"To be honest, I don't feel too good either. How can we stop this?"

Overhearing Sledge's remark the technician picked up the assault rifle.

"At my command, heave!" Following Smith's instructions, the Legionnaires raised the cross with the aid of ropes and brute force. Cardinal Richards mercifully lost consciousness.

Lining up in their formation, the Legionnaires stood to attention, Smith at their head. Drums beat ominously, lightning and thunder reached a crescendo. Smoke obscured the participants briefly from view.

As if by some miracle a Roman soldier appeared suddenly at the foot of the cross. As one the Legionnaires raised their swords in salute.

"Hail Cassius Longinus!" echoed through the studio.

"Centurion Cassius Longinus, the Roman soldier who stabbed Jesus in the chest." Whispered the technician.

Dressed in a uniform tailored to fit perfectly, wearing a silver face mask similar to those worn by gladiators Cassius Longinus made a dramatic entrance.

Saluting the Legionnaires Cassius Longinus turned to the man on the cross. The cameras captured the naked hate in Longinus' eyes.

Cassius Longinus held a lance in his hands.

"That's the Spear of Destiny." The technician continued his running commentary pointing at the spear Longinus gripped tightly in one hand.

Sledge turned to Piper.

"There is a legend which tells of the spear being passed down through the ages by the Roman Emperors believing whoever possessed the spear would hold the destiny of the world in his hands. The spear was lost for centuries then was rediscovered by Knights fighting in the Crusades at Antioch. Somehow it ended up in the Hapsburg Museum in Austria."

"And these guys think they possess the spear?" Shivering at the thought, she watched Longinus moving closer to Richards.

"No, the most authentic version of the spear is still in the museum in Austria. Hitler had it for a time when the American army captured it during the final days of the war. It was later returned to the museum."

"Oh, no Sledge! I think Longinus is about to re-enact the final part of the Crucifixion."

"Hang on a minute, have you noticed something?" Piper stared wide-eyed at him. She waved her hands around.

"What exactly do you mean by that Sledge? It's not like I have seen all this before. Of course, I am noticing a hell of a lot of strange and terrible things."

"Sorry, what I meant was the little voice in our heads, it's no longer there. I'm talking about Orcus. Since this Longinus character showed up, there have been no weird messages on our phones, no dramatic voice screaming over the speaker system."

"Longinus and Orcus are the same person Sledge!" She stared intently at the man holding the lance shuddering at the thought of who might be behind the mask.

Slowly Longinus reached down for a sponge soaked in a mixture of vinegar and water.

Longinus roughly shoved the sponge into the Cardinals mouth then held the spear pointing menacingly at the Cardinals ribs.

Stepping sideways aiming the coup de grace Longinus drove the spear into Cardinal Richards side. Blood spurted from the wound.

Not deep enough to kill instantly but sufficient to cause an agonisingly slow death.

The technician twirled his knobs all the while keeping his eye on Sledge and Piper, the assault rifle close at hand.

While the eyes of the world focused on Cassius Longinus watching Cardinal Richard dying Smith gathered up the Legionnaires.

"Right men! Outside we have a squad of policemen preparing to storm the building. How the bloody hell did the coppers, find us?" He stared accusingly at Sledge.

"You had better decide whose side you are on real fast Sledge. Your privileged status won't protect you when the bullets start flying. Watch your back mate!" Sneering at Sledge, Smith pointed the revolver menacingly.

"What privileged status Smith, because we were both in the military don't think you're doing me any favours."

"That has nothing to do with it Sledge. Nothing at all." Smith nodded over to Cassius Longinus.

"You can thank him. I haven't had you terminated yet!" Waving his hands about Smith signalled the Legionnaires.

"They will be attempting a rescue mission. However, we have not yet achieved the objective." Father Smith signalled two Legionnaires to follow him into the entrance tunnel.

Chapter 19

"What do you think they are going to do Sledge? I don't see any other weapons beside the assault rifle the technician has and Smith's revolver." Piper whispered.

"They have their swords, but only a dumbass takes a knife to a gunfight." He smiled. Smith returned unspooling a roll of wire as he went.

"What the hell is he thinking? Does he realise what will happen if he sets off explosives down here?" He looked around the makeshift underground studio.

"Do the right thing. Surrender to the police before there is more bloodshed," Piper screamed. Smith turned on her, with a look of frustration on his face.

"This is the only thing that will end the suffering, don't you think young children have suffered enough at the hands of these perverts?'

"And what do you hope to achieve here now?" She waved her hand around the room.

"Lead your men into a shootout with the police? Sure, maybe you will kill a few of them before they storm through here and finish you off but have you ever thought about their families? Those men outside have wives and children, do you want to be remembered by the orphans as the man who killed their father. Those policemen are doing their duty. You will have their blood on your hands not to mention the lives of the guys here dressed as Roman soldiers. You have done more than enough to bring the world's attention to your cause. Don't let more innocent children suffer. Surrender before it is too late!"

"Do you think these dumb cardboard shields will stop bullets, Smith?' Sledge reached out for one of the Legionnaire's shields. He felt the weight.

"You might have managed to teach your men to march in step or salute with a sword, but they have no combat experience. When the shit hits the fan, they will either get shot or run out on you!"

"The police have riot shields, we have these babies," Smith replied.

Feeling the weight Sledge was surprised at how heavy the shields were.

"Capable of stopping rounds from most small arms or automatic weapons, seems we are on a level playing field when it comes to that." Replied Smith.

"Maybe but they have automatic weapons, and you have swords and spears."

"That may be Sledge, but we have just received word from a diplomat with connections to the Vatican. Pope Francis called an emergency meeting this morning. It seems Pope Francis summoned almost two dozen of Chile's bishops to Rome. He has already accepted the resignation of six of the bishops so far while the others are under investigation, not by the Vatican but by the police. This is just the beginning of something great! All this has not been in vain."

Sledge pretended to be unimpressed. He flung the shield into the small chamber used by the medic.

"Surrender please Smith, if you are under orders from him then disobey them. Is he the one in charge of all of this?" Piper cried pointing at Longinus who stood watching Cardinal Richards hover on the brink of death.

Smith stood in silence for a moment contemplating his options.

"Very well put young lady, but surrender is not a word I know. We fight to the death, and I am under no one's command." He connected the wires to the time fuse.

He connected the wires to an M60 fuse ignitor, usually there would be an electronic detonating system, but he used the old standard issue military surplus equipment available at the time the operation went live. Previously measuring the length of detonating cord Smith knew once he pulled the pin on the ignitor the explosives would detonate in ten seconds.

"Here we go lads, ready in ten!" He pulled the pin on the old M60 ignitor. Kneeling on the rough ground, Smith bent low.

Sledge gripped Piper's hand pulling her to her feet.

Smith turned to stare angrily at Sledge.

"What the hell Sledge? The explosives are about to go off any second now!" Struggling against his grip she hesitated.

"Move toward the small room now, don't argue!" together they crashed into the small enclosure seconds before the explosives detonated.

Grabbing the shield Sledge pushed Piper to the floor. "Put your fingers in your ears and open your mouth!" He yelled. She looked at him startled.

"Now!" He screamed. He shoved his fingers in his ears and opened his mouth. Piper followed his command.

Holding the shield over their bodies, Sledge waited for the blast. Seconds later he felt the shock wave kick over them. Dust and stones flew about the cavern. The electric lights blew, sitting at his control board the technician was slammed to the ground. Blood seeped from his shattered eardrums. The Legionnaires dropped to the stone-strewn floor screaming in pain, their eardrums ringing. It was if a giant hand slam dunked them over their entire body.

Detonating explosives in a cave or mine shaft enhances the effect of the shock wave. It caused a rockfall baring entrance to the police on the other side but caused more casualties amongst their forces. The men in the cave bore the brunt of the effects.

Chapter 20

Smith lay wide-eyed on the rocky ground holding his head, Cardinal Richards hung limply from the cross. Standing straight and tall in the swirling dust Cassius Longinus held his shield at chest height.

Feeling the shock wave diminish, Sledge shook his head ready to react.

"Are you all right babe?" He shook Piper's shoulder. She stared at him wide-eyed, disorientated.

"Help me get them out of here." He slipped out of the chamber and into the studio. Sledge ran full tilt toward the technician. Landing a punch, he grabbed the assault rifle off of the desk. He cocked the weapon catching the round already chambered as it was ejected out of the breach. Sledge inspected the bullet. "5.56 mm." He wasn't sure if the weapon was genuine or a fake. He squeezed the trigger after switching to single shot.

A round fired off skimming across the roof of the cavern.

"Ha! Back in business!" he laughed. Sledge kicked the technician to the floor recovering two spare magazines for the weapon. He pushed down on the rounds in the magazines with his thumb. Both were fully loaded. He had at least sixty rounds plus whatever was in the magazine attached to the rifle.

"Dumb bastards never fought in tunnels!" He laughed. Smith lay on the floor, his Roman Centurion helmet discarded.

"What happens when the police storm the place Sledge, will they know we are on their side?" She dusted down her clothes.

"Don't know Piper but I don't want to be here when it happens." He nodded toward Richards convulsing on the cross.

"What about the Cardinal? we can't leave him like that!" She took a few paces through the swirling dust. Standing looking up at the bloody figure, she wondered if this was how the people felt looking up at Jesus on the cross.

"Maybe there is another way Piper" Sledge moved quickly over to where Smith stumbled blindly, holding onto the cave wall.

"It's the end of the line Smith! I can offer you a way out if you hurry. This is your only chance." Grabbing Smith by the arm Sledge gripped the revolver out of Smith's hand pushing him forward holding the assault rifle levelled at Smith's chest.

One by one the Legionnaires gathered around Smith. They stared at their leader waiting for him to make a decision.

"Piper, remember the old stairway at the back of the cave? Take a look and tell me if it is still there." Sliding behind the battered green screen, Piper disappeared down a narrow passageway. A plywood wall constructed by Smith and his men when they built the studio lay shattered by the blast.

It's still here Sledge. We will have to break a hole in the wall though." She turned to see the technician checking over the controls on his desk. Everything was still being broadcast over the news channels and the internet. He glared over at Sledge.

"The police must be watching this as well Sledge. If we get this lot out of here, there is a good chance of Smith and his men being picked up before they can get too far."

"Yes, maybe there is still a chance the Cardinal will survive." Sledge kicked at the plywood wall. A large partition fell, cold air blew into the cavern.

"Look, Sledge!" Piper ran her fingers over three names etched into the rockface.

"It seems like a lifetime ago when the three of us carved our names into the wall." He shook his head.

"Yes, then we jumped off of the ledge and into the river far below, you held my hand when we jumped." Piper smiled tussling his hair.

"You can stay and surrender or take a chance by jumping off of the ledge and into the river. Those wishing to put an end to this line up against the wall!" Sledge covered the Legionnaires with the assault rifle. Two of them hesitantly walked toward the far side dejectedly facing the cave wall.

"We are not finished yet Sledge, not by a long shot. I won't be forgetting this, look over your shoulder, one day I will be there and so help me. I will change your mind about all this and more." Smith glared at Sledge.

"Jenkins, do I have to think for you all of the time?" Smith shouted. "Remove your armoured breastplate before you jump into the river, you idiot." Jenkins took a step away from the ledge hurriedly undoing his breastplate. Roman helmets and other equipment were flung to the floor by the men. One by one they stood on the ledge peering down into the swirling river below. The doctor was the first to jump. One after the other the men plunged into the raging river.

Behind them, the police reaction team were quickly clearing the debris brought down by the explosion. The police team would be in the cavern within minutes.

Smith was the last man about to jump. He turned to Sledge running his finger across his throat in a threatening gesture. For a moment Smith stared at the inky blackness below, the howling winds whipping up the cold waters. Spinning around, he lunged toward Piper drawing a dagger from his belt. Piper screamed. Smith held his arm around her neck, pressing the blade roughly against her throat.

Dedicated to his job the technician filmed the dramatic events now unfolding. Sledge aimed at Smith's head.

"Do you think you can pull off a shot like this?" Smith laughed.

"Tell me who Orcus is, are you Orcus?" Sledge played for time.

"Ha! No-one knows who the mysterious Orcus is Sledge. Not even me. All I know is that he is someone with powerful connections."

Piper struggled, a thin trickle of blood ran down her neck.

"Is Orcus blackmailing someone in the Catholic church? Is that where he is getting the money for all of this?" Sledge pointed around the cavern at the electronic equipment and cameras.

"I am sure we mentioned that earlier. All I know is that Orcus has meticulously collected a lot of damning evidence against some of the most powerful men in the Catholic church. Those who abused children and also their accomplices who knew of the crimes but yet still covered them up are all equally guilty." He backed away from Sledge dragging Piper with him.

"Don't Smith, please!" Sledge moved slowly toward Smith.

"By compromising the operation, you too are guilty Sledge. Her death will be on your conscious." He raised the dagger.

Chapter 21

Piper screamed. Blood gushed over her shoulder. Smith fell forward staring wide-eyed at the lance tip soaked with his blood protruding through his shoulder. Intense pain wracked his body when the lance was withdrawn from the wound. He fell to his knees staring up at Cassius Longinus. It occurred to Smith that he had never seen the face of this mysterious man, nor did he know anything about him. Orcus had instructed, over the phone that someone special would portray the character Longinus.

Smith felt the bloodied spear tip pressing against his throat. Rushing into Sledge's arms, Piper gazed at Longinus. For a heartbeat, Longinus stared at her and Sledge. Turning abruptly, still, masked Longinus moved swiftly down the passageway discarding his armour as he went.

Reaching the ledge, he took one last look at Sledge holding Piper in his arms. Tapping the three names etched into the wall the man jumped into the darkness below.

"Oh my God, Sledge do you think that was Robert?"

Sledge nodded. "It sure did look like Robert, why would he have tapped the names on the wall if it wasn't him? A sign perhaps that he wanted us to know it was him?"

Cardinal Richards groaned. Searching through the medical supplies left in the small enclosure Sledge returned with a handful of bandages.

"If we can keep him alive for the next few minutes I'm sure the police will have a medic with them when they get in here." He applied a dressing to the Cardinals chest and feet.

"God damn it, this is award-winning shit!" Capturing every moment of the drama the technician zoomed in on Sledge staunching the Cardinals blood loss.

Piper ran to the entrance of the tunnel. From the other side of the rockfall, she heard the sound of digging drawing closer.

"Inspector Rees, it's me, Piper. The situation is under control. Sledge is helping the Cardinal. Please hurry!"

"Affirmative!" was all she heard then a large boulder crashed sideways. Inspector Rees peered through the gap.

At the sight of the police about to enter the cavern, the two Legionnaires facing the wall turned and ran for the ledge.

Filming the two men rushing headlong over the edge the technician captured the men falling into the river below. In the faint light of dawn, he zoomed in on a group of men struggling in the current. One by one they clawed their way up the shingle riverbed. He counted thirteen men awaiting orders from Longinus. Try as he might he could not get a clear shot of Longinus. Disappearing into the bush, the men vanished in the early morning mist.

Realising that he had never filmed himself the technician positioned the camera facing the tunnel and covering Sledge helping the Cardinal on the cross. He then blew Piper a kiss and jumped off of the ledge into the river.

"Bloody computer geek," Sledge muttered.

"Inspector Rees forced his way through the narrow entrance of the tunnel. Five police officers followed in quick succession. Shouts of "All clear" echoed through the cavern as the task force secured the large chamber and the two smaller rooms.

"Medic get in here!" Inspector Rees ordered. Two police officers rushed toward the Cardinal bleeding out on the cross. As the medics worked, the police officers enlarged the tunnel entrance.

Paramedics arrived, they set about freeing Richards from the cross all the while administering lifesaving medical assistance.

"Right, you two over here!" Rees waved Sledge and Piper over.

"Do you know any of the suspects?" He asked.

"No, they all wore masks most of the time, and I am sure you would have recorded the footage so you can identify them yourself." Sledge replied. He held Piper's hand tightly.

"How did you know where to find us, and this place?" He waited for Rees to reply.

"We knew all along what you were up to. The woman on the plane next to you was a police officer. The taxi following you from Mac Dougal's was one of us. We never really let you out of our sight, even in the pubs we had people watching you."

"This will look good on your resume Rees. I wouldn't be surprised if the Pope sends you a medal for rescuing Cardinal Richards." Sledge smiled.

"You two are the bloody darlings of the news media. There is no way we could prosecute you now after everything that went viral on the internet and television." Rees snarled.

Taking Piper by the hand Sledge led her to the ledge. "One last time?" He pointed to the river below.

"Will you hold my hand?" Piper kissed him on the cheek. Clutching her hand tightly Sledge and Piper took a step over the edge. For a heartbeat, it seemed as if they were suspended in midair. The river rushed up to meet them. Sledge held her close when they went under the water. Breaking the surface, they bobbed down the river carried along by the swift current.

Washing up on the sandy riverbed they lay side by side gasping for air. Turning to face Piper Sledge held her in his arms running his hand gently over her cheek. He stared into her eyes and smiled. She felt his lips hover millimetres away from hers. The delayed intimacy excited her.

He kissed her gently at first then passionately tugging gently at her hair, holding her close he caressed her shoulders.

"This is where it all started Piper." Pointing a little further downstream Sledge indicated the empty tents billowing in the breeze. It was as quiet as a tomb, only the gently winds whispered in the morning sunshine.

"Yes, I wonder if they have removed the crucifix where Father Connelly was killed?" Stepping closer Piper stopped dead in her tracks.

"What the bloody hell is this?" Sledge watched three land cruisers driving through the shallow waters heading straight for the tents.

Armed with cameras and cell phones a group of tourists jumped out of the vehicles. Rushing about wildly they took photos of the crucifix, of the tents and milled around cutting off pieces of the tents to keep as souvenirs.

"Dark tourism raises its ugly head," Sledge muttered in disgust. "Take me home Sledge." Snuggling into his arms, Piper led him away from the scene of the murder.

They lay on the bed, exhausted not only by the ordeal they had endured but also by their passionate lovemaking.

"I don't want to break the mood, but maybe we should see what has been happening over the last few hours." Piper ran her hand over Sledge's chest.

She slipped naked into the living room returning with her laptop. Cuddling up they lay on the bed watching breaking news.

"A spate of investigations by police in many countries is uncovering large amounts of evidence against members of the clergy in this ongoing abuse scandal. The Pope has called an urgent meeting at the Vatican in an attempt to contain the damage done to the already damaged reputation of the Catholic church."

The news reader's image fizzled out to be replaced with a man wearing a golden mask.

"I am Orcus, the guardian of the abused and the righter of wrongs. We have made some headway, but we will not stop our campaign until the last abuser is sentenced. Our people are safe and sound after the mission in Queenstown."

Footage of a jet boat careening up the river appeared on the screen. One by one the men who had jumped over the ledge were plucked from the river including Smith being treated for his injury.

Thirteen men stood in what looked like the courtyard of a castle lit by flaming torches. Orcus walked down a stone staircase to stand at their head.

"We are watching and waiting, ready to strike again. Until next time." He raised a Roman broadsword in a salute. The usual programmed continued.

"Wow, you have more than a few e-mails Sledge!" Piper clicked on his e-mail tab.

"Most of them want permission to publish your photo's. There are dozens of newspapers and reporters asking for an interview as well as T.V talk shows asking us both to appear on their shows." She gasped.

Picking up a newspaper Sledge stared at the photo on the front page. A man dressed as an altar boy stood staring defiantly at the camera. His white robe was stained dark red by Connelly's blood. The wide staring eyes peering out from underneath the theatrical tragedy mask gave the murderer a maniacal look. This clashed with the beauty of the background scenery, the halo of sunlight captured through the swirling mist. A beautiful yet tragic image which came to symbolise the retribution murders on newspaper front pages and magazines throughout the world.

Peeking out of the window Sledge noticed several cars outside. T.V crews stood idly by waiting for them to emerge.

"How do you feel about your sudden rise to stardom?" he joked tussling Piper's hair. Their photos were in dozens of newspapers and on magazine covers.

"Not my thing, to be honest, especially connected to something like this." Shaking her head, Piper looked out of the window wishing the reporters would go away.

"We still have the land cruiser from Orcus. Get your things together. I have an idea." He made a call on his cell phone.

"How did you do it?" Piper giggled. One by one the reporters rushed into their cars and drove off.

"I recognised one or two of the reporters. I called their Editors up and said that we had been spotted dining in a certain restaurant. They all sped off to get there before the others."

"I have booked us into a small cabin for a few weeks a few hour's drive from here. No internet, no television cellphone coverage, except if we go into town a few kilometres down the road. It's in a forest on the bank of a lake. There is no way that anyone will find us down there."

Piper hugged him, kissing his cheek.

"That sounds wonderful my love, but what will we do for all that time with no internet and television?" She smiled, a naughty twinkle lit her eyes. As darkness fell, they drove out of town heading toward the mountains.

"How are you feeling? About Robert I mean." Pouring a glass of wine for Piper, Sledge began preparing a platter of cold meats and cheese. The morning sunlight sparkled on the lake.

"I am heartbroken thinking of everything that happened to him and what hurts the most is that he must have been suffering terribly both emotionally and physically, but I never had a clue. He just kept it all to himself. I feel so guilty, perhaps if I knew what was going on, I could have helped Robert, and it would never have escalated to this level."

She held her head in her hands.

"All I want is my brother back, but we both know that now it is impossible for him to come home and carry on with a normal life."

"We are the only ones who made the connection between Robert and Orcus. No-one knows Orcus's true identity. Maybe there is still hope." Sledge put his arm around her shoulder.

"Maybe you are right. I must find some way of contacting him, of helping Robert when we return home." She smiled.

"I forgot the olives. I think they are in the back seat of the land cruiser. I'll be back in a minute." Standing up, Sledge began walking down the tree-lined path.

"Wait for me. I'm coming with you." Piper called. He watched her walking toward him set against the backdrop of the stone cottage beside the crystal-clear waters of the lake. Sledge felt his heart skip a beat. In his eyes, she was perfection personified.

"Race you to the car!" Slapping him on the backside Piper dashed off down the path giggling.

"They must be here somewhere." Sledge opened the rear door. He froze. Icy chills crept up his spine.

Pipers hands trembled reaching out for the note taped to a golden mask.

"Great job, enjoy your peace and quiet. Until next time. Orcus."

Chapter 22

"Do you think that we are alone Sledge?" Piper asked sneaking a peek out of the window. She felt uneasy as if someone was watching them all of the time.

"I have checked the perimeter, no footprints. There is no sign of anyone apart from ourselves Piper. Yes, I am very well aware of the mask and message in the car. It makes me feel uneasy too, but there is no sense in worrying about it right now. I am going fishing."

Piper watched Sledge rummaging around in the kitchen cupboard. He threw a couple of tins of drain cleaner into his bag and then went through the small garden shed situated to the side of the cottage.

Piper lay on the bed wondering what life would be like when they returned home. A thunderous explosion shattered her dreams. Jumping off of the bed Piper ran through the open door. She rushed toward the sound of the blast.

"What the hell happened Sledge?" Staring at Sledge wading waist deep in the lake she counted at least ten rainbow trout bobbing on the surface.

"I told you I was going fishing, so I did." He reached out and grabbed a floundering trout by the tail.

"What the hell did you do? I didn't think that you were going to blow the whole damn lake up." More fish bobbed to the surface along with the occasional eel.

"I used a few household ingredients to make a small explosive device. I don't have the patience to sit here all day trying to catch one or two fish."

"I am not about to eat something that you blew up!" Staring at Sledge, she rolled her eyes.

"And what about the effect on the ecosystems? Do you know how many other species you might have destroyed with your home-made bombs?" The blank look on his face infuriated her. Turning away Piper stormed off to the cabin. Sledge heard a door slam, he knew he was in the dog-box but decided he could not waste a good meal.

"Are you sure you don't want any? I know you will enjoy it." Ignoring him Piper bit into an apple.

"Okay, but if you change your mind, please join me." Grabbing a roll of aluminium foil out of the cupboard he turned to the fridge. Scooping up a couple of capsicums, an onion and two lemons he shut the fridge door with his shoulder. Leaving Piper to eat her apple, he walked out onto the deck where the wood fire in the B.B.Q was nearly at the perfect temperature.

Sledge smiled when he noticed Piper watching him clean and gut the fish before placing them on strips of aluminium foil. Slicing the onion and capsicums Sledge lay them down on top of the fish. Finally, after sprinkling each one with salt and pepper and a few pinches of fresh herbs, he wrapped the aluminium parcels closed.

Placing parcels on the grill over the red-hot coals he lit a cigarette. The aroma wafted across the short area between the deck and the window where Piper seemed captivated by the natural beauty of the lake. She looked out onto the shimmering waters. Rugged mountains towered in the distance, their summits still covered by a thin layer of snow. In the valley, through a gap in the mountains, lush green fields stretched far into the distance. Pine trees grew over the ridges while the New Zealand ferns and natural flora covered the lower areas.

"Can't have a barbie without a tinny. Want one?" She nudged Sledge in the ribs with her elbow.

"Bloody hell woman, you are perfect. Beautiful and carrying a case of beers. What more could a bloke want?" He smiled kissing her on the cheek.

"That's not very P.C Sledge, what would people think!" Piper laughed.

"I was never into this Political Correctness crap. Those self-righteous snowflakes are out looking for attention. They should man up and get over themselves." He turned the fish one last time.

Piper watched him standing by the barbie. It made her feel special each time he opened a door for her. When they were in the restaurant, Sledge had pulled out the chair for her and helped her with her coat when they left. He was a gentleman, something that reminded her of how her father had treated her mother.

"Remember when you are dating boys Piper. When a man treats you like your father treats me, he is a keeper." Her mother's words echoed in her ears.

"I am sorry babe, I didn't mean to offend you or anything. What I did with the fish passes for normal with the blokes I know." Sledge held her close.

"Piper, I love you. I know it's way too soon to say something like that, but under the circumstances, I think that we have been through more than most couples will ever go through." He looked into her eyes. His heart beat furiously.

"Oh Sledge, I love you, love you too!" She blurted between kisses.

"I first fell in love with you when you stood up for me against that bully at school. He was teasing me, a boy much older and you told him to stop."

"Yea, I remember. I got my butt kicked by him and his mates, Owen Balder." Sledge took the fish parcels off of the grill opening them.

"I saw him when I got back from Afghanistan, I was on leave and bumped into him in the shops." Smiling, Sledge set a plate with salad and a fish parcel down on the table in front of Piper.

"And what happened?"

"Nothing just spoke to him for a few seconds." He replied shrugging his shoulders.

"Really, what happened Sledge?"

"Okay, I recognised him walking toward me. I shoulder slammed him and told him to watch his back. I would be there one day." He laughed.

"He has a beer belly out here!" He held his hands far from his stomach.

"I think he might be worried. I am now at least a head and shoulders taller than him. He had a look of utter panic on his face." Sledge laughed.

Her body was warmed and tanned. They swum in the lake, ate more fish and salad and cuddled on the sandy beach in the sunshine.

"Oh, those damned sandflies." Scratching at a bite on her arm Piper squashed one of the small insects between her thumb and forefinger.

"Amazing Pavlova my love." She scooped another helping of the dessert into her bowl.

"Interesting thing about Pavlova!" He stated smartly.

"Yes, we all bloody know. A meringue-based dessert with fresh cream, Kiwi fruit, berries and strawberries made for Anna Pavlova. One of the endless disputes between Australia and New Zealand as to who invented the dessert." Piper laughed throwing a strawberry at Sledge.

It bounced off of his head. He laughed.

"Exactly what I was about to say, my love." He leant over and kissed her on the lips.

"I suddenly feel so tired babe." Piper yawned.

"Bloody hell, don't you girls always say that?" He attempted to smile. Piper grew fuzzy in his vision. He watched as her knees buckled. Using all the strength he could muster, Sledge forced himself to concentrate. Catching her as she fell, he held her in his arms. Together they slumped onto the wooden deck, dead to the world.

Chapter 23

"What in the world happened? I feel like I have the worlds worst hangover." Rubbing his temples, Sledge turned. He looked over at Piper lying next to him in the bed.

Groggily making his way to the kitchen, he slowly spooned coffee and sugar into two cups.

"What a bloody mess, it must have been some party last night." Pouring a small amount of milk into a glass, he immediately regretted swallowing it. Curdled and lumpy, it almost made him throw up.

"No bloody wonder, it's four days past the expiry date." Dropping the milk container into the dustbin, Sledge rubbed his aching head.

"Can't possibly have finished all these beers in one night. Did we have friends over?" Startled by the sound of Piper stirring in the bedroom he staggered over to the doorway.

"Piper, are you okay?" He stood watching her pulling the pillow over her head.

"Oh!" she groaned burying her head deeper into the pillow.

"Here, some coffee. Maybe it will help. What happened last night? It's three in the afternoon." Bending forward Sledge placed the coffee on the bedside table. He opened the window breathing in large the fresh air. The cottage reeked of stale cigarettes, unwashed bodies and beer. Strolling back into the kitchen Sledge picked up the foul-smelling dustbin. Opening the door, he set it down a few paces along the path like a new Dad handling a dirty diaper.

Piper sat propped up in the bed with the sheet loosely covering her body. Slowly sipping the coffee, she rubbed her head.

She glared at Sledge. He had seen that look before and knew that it meant trouble.

"What happened last night Piper?" He cautiously approached the foot of the bed.

"I was about to ask you the same thing, Sledge. Why do I feel like crap? And can you explain these marks on my arms, around my wrists? Oh. My God, they are on my legs too." Staring coldly at Sledge she waited for an answer.

"I have no idea, my love. I can't remember a thing." Sitting down at the foot of the bed he looked at the dull bruises around Piper's ankles and wrists.

"Maybe we got into some really kinky stuff. I have marks on my ankles and arms too?" He ducked as she flung the half-full coffee cup inches over his head. It shattered on the white wall leaving a dirty brown trail meandering down the wall and into the carpet.

Hastily slipping a t-shirt over her head, Piper pushed past Sledge.

"Look at this place! How much did you have to drink?" Angrily she stormed off to the bathroom. A door slammed, then he heard the shower running.

Rooting through the kitchen cupboards, he found some garbage bags. One by one he picked up the empty bottles of beer, Vodka and Whiskey.

"No way, no bloody way could two people drink all of this in one night and still be alive." Pounding his fist on the bathroom door, Sledge called out to Piper.

"Leave me alone. I am taking a shower, and then I am going home!"

"Something doesn't add up Piper. Have you seen the number of empties in the lounge and out on the deck?" He shouted feeling angry that she would blame him. Feeling the first signs of guilt, Sledge sat down outside on the deck hoping that the fresh air would clear his memory.

Vaguely he heard the sound of the bathroom door opening. Searching through three empty packets of cigarettes he breathed a sigh of relief finding the fourth packet with a few cigarettes still left.

He felt the familiar headrush from the first cigarette of the day, but this time it nearly made him puke.

Stubbing the cigarette out on the B.B.Q he turned and headed inside to brush his teeth.

"Piper, something is not right! Please hear me out." He touched her shoulder. She shrugged his hand off and continued packing.

"The last thing I remember was eating Pavlova out on the deck yesterday afternoon. Remember?" Hesitating for a moment, Piper stared out of the window.

"Yes, I remember. So, what?"

Relieved that she had spoken, Sledge carried on.

"Please come with me. I have to show you something. Out on the deck, it won't take a minute."

Reluctantly Piper followed him outside.

"Look at that." he pointed to the remnants of the trout they had eaten.

"It stinks to high heaven, are those maggots crawling over the rotting fish?" Holding her hand over her mouth, she reached for the nearly empty pack of cigarettes.

Lighting it for her, then one for himself, Sledge nodded.

"Normally it would take twenty-four hours for larvae to hatch. Judging by their size the little bastards have been feeding on the left-over fish for at least three or four days." She eyed him sceptically.

"Another thing. We bought the milk when we were on our way here. Which means it was only yesterday morning. It's gone off."

"I did make sure the sell by date was only in a couple of days, you know. Why would I have bought milk ready to expire in a day or so?" She walked over to where Sledge had taken out the dust bin.

Shaking her head, Piper seemed confused.

"It went off two days ago. But I checked the expiry date. I did."

"Tell me what you remember last. We ate Pavlova then felt tired. What happened next?" Piper stared blankly at Sledge for a moment then shook her head.

"I remember bright lights. I am walking along the lakefront. The water was lapping over my feet.

Holding her head in her hands, Piper struggled to think of what they had done.

"These marks or bites on my arms, they make me look like a drug addict. Are they from the sandflies?" She held out her arms.

"I have the same marks. Sandflies bites all over. Not only here." He pointed to a dozen red spots on his arm.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted sudden movement. Adrenaline rushed through his body. Catching a glimpse of an armed man pointing a rifle at them, Sledge grabbed Piper by the hand. Partially hidden in the bushes beside the lake Sledge prayed like hell he could get Piper to cover before the shooting started.

"What's going on? Leave me alone Sledge!" Screaming, Piper fought against Sledge's sudden unexplained behaviour.

"Let me go you, idiot!" Suddenly he pushed her into the cottage and slammed the door shut.

Bullets smashed the windows. Glass shards fell inches from their faces. He pushed her down covering her with his body. A rifle grenade exploded close to where he lay. He felt the shockwave.

"Stay down!" Scrambling into the kitchen, he reached up for a carving knife. Exposing his head for a second Sledge peeked out of the back window. More men advanced on the house from the rear.

His mind raced. How was he going to get Piper out of here? Turning as a volley of machinegun fire ripped through the kitchen Sledge flung a wooden cupboard over hoping to delay their attackers by a few seconds.

Ears deafened by the concussion of multiple grenades exploding in the kitchen, he rushed over to where Piper lay on the floor.

Eyes wide in terror, Piper screamed as he approached her. A grenade landed in the small confines of the lounge.

Without hesitation, he threw himself on top of the grenade a second before it would explode killing Piper.

He clenched his teeth waiting for the terrifying moment the grenade blast and shrapnel would rip through his chest.

Seconds seemed to stretch into hours. Sledge felt the grenade under his chest and wondered if he was dead.

"Perhaps it was a dud?" Confused by the sound of sudden silence Sledge lifted his head. Piper sat against the wall sobbing, staring down at him.

"It didn't go off!" Sledge reached under his chest and held up the grenade.

"Thank goodness for that. We might have had mashed potato everywhere!" Piper snapped.

Sledge stared at the potato in his outstretched hand. There were no bullet holes in the walls nor had the windows been shattered.

The kitchen was a mess, but that was his doing.

"You must have had a flashback, post-traumatic stress. Did you think you were in Afghanistan again? Have you had treatment for this before?" Piper sobbed holding onto his hand.

"No, I have never had flashbacks or any other side effects. Maybe a little too hypervigilant and jumpy. But that's all. I swear Piper."

"Whatever happened to you now, I will never understand. One minute you were talking normally, then the next you suddenly turn into a raving idiot."

"I'm scared Sledge." Piper closed her eyes resting the back of her head against the wall.

"Give me a minute, please. I need to be alone for a moment."

Sledge felt his heart sink watching her amble down to the lakeshore. She sat down in a cross-legged position as if she was meditating.

"Might as well make myself useful." Grabbing a dustbin bag, he started with the kitchen.

"What must she be thinking of me right now? I feel utterly stupid. One of life's most embarrassing moments. Correct that, life's most ever embarrassing moment." He thought to himself.

He felt like a ticking time-bomb. Nothing like this had ever happened before.

By the time Piper walked slowly into the cottage, it had looked presentable.

"Thanks for that Sledge." She looked around the almost tidy cottage.

"I was doing a little soul searching by the waters of the lake. Water has such a calming effect." She spoke softly, deliberately choosing her words.

"Concentrating as much as I could on our time here, the result was tough to comprehend. I remember arriving here, our time spent together and the blowing up the fish incident." Sitting on the deck, she stared out over the lake and up at the mountains.

"What else Piper? There must be more. I believe we have been unconscious for a few days.

"In my mind's eye all I saw were vivid colours, and a sensed, more than felt, a terrible background noise. We walked along the lakefront, but it wasn't us. I saw two people strolling hand in hand, their feet in the water as they walked."

"You know what stood out for me? There were no mountains in the background. It was a different place. Even the cottage was different." Piper looked at the marks on her arms.

"It has crossed my mind too. The mask and message from Orcus in the backseat of the car. I should have been more alert, but all I wanted to do was spend time alone with you here." He said regretting having let down his guard.

"One minute I was a was trying to fathom out what had happened. Speaking to you, then suddenly I felt as if we were under attack. It was real. I could see the enemy advancing on the cottage. Gunfire and explosions deafened me. My heart rate must have soared." He knew his explanation would be complicated for anyone to understand.

"Let's clean up the cottage. Then we will head to the nearest town."

Sledge looked at her a little surprised.

"You did a great job, but it needs a woman's touch, attention to detail and all of that. No offence. We can find out the exact date of today and work out how long we were unconscious."

"Okay, for once I regret not bringing our cell phones. I'll dump the garbage bags in the back of the car. We can't leave all those bottles here." He set off to bury the remains of the maggot infested trout then shoved the black dustbin bags into the boot of the car.

"Ready, I think it will do now." Piper walked through the cottage on a last-minute inspection. Sledge was amazed at what he thought was clean and what she had done to the place afterwards.

"By the way, the note from Orcus and the mask were not on the back seat where we left them. Did you take the mask or note?" Piper shook her head as she got into the passenger seat. Sledge closed the door for her and walked around the car to the driver's seat. He took a last look at what he had imagined would be the idyllic setting for a romantic getaway. Instead, it had turned into a nightmare, one that seemed far from over.

Chapter 24

Sledge drove slowly down the winding dirt road leading to the main road. His knuckled held the wheel so tightly that they were white. Teeth clenched and heart pounding he fought off the thought of a possible flashback while he was driving.

"We woke up in bed together Sledge, naked. If someone else was in the cottage while we were unconscious, and we were there for a few days, who undressed us?" Hiding her face in her hands, she felt violated, humiliated at the thought.

"There's the main road and a fruit stall on the side of the road. I'll get something, and we might be able to start putting the pieces of the puzzle together." He pulled to the side of the road and got out of the car. Piper followed him into the small fruit and vegetable stall.

"Got the paper, mate?" Sledge asked the young teenager behind the counter playing on his cell phone.

"Yea bro, on the shelf above the Kiwi fruit and cherries." He replied without looking up from his game.

Grabbing the newspaper Piper stabbed her finger at the date on the top of the front page.

"Holy shit, it's been six days since we first arrived at the cottage." Ashen-faced Sledge dropped a small bag of oranges on the counter along with the newspaper. Piper added a couple of bottles of water and juice.

"Oh my God, Sledge it's your song!" Turning up the radio she sang along with Bruno Mars.

"I'd catch a grenade for ya!"

"In your case, I'd catch a potato for ya!" She laughed.

He laughed along but was very aware of the look in her eyes. She was suffering. He wished that he could turn back the clock and never have taken her to the cottage.

In an attempt to cheer her up he sang along with her. She turned the radio up. Grabbing the dustbin bags out of the boot of the car they threw them into a skip bin.

"Thank God, I could smell rum and whiskey mixed with beer all along the dirt road. I nearly puked!" She laughed getting back into the car.

Driving off Sledge checked in his rear-view mirror. A police car pulled out from behind a bush next to the road. It accelerated lighting them up.

"Pull over Sledge, they have their sirens going and the lights flashing. We are the only ones on the road!"

Bringing the car to a halt on the side of the road amidst a shower of gravel he waited for the police officer to approach the vehicle.

"Couldn't help seeing all the bottles you were dropping into the skip mate. Big night was it?" Smiling at Sledge, the officer turned his attention to Piper. He looked at her as he spoke to Sledge.

"We were only cleaning up the place after a party, officer!"

"Name and address." The officer held the breathalyser inches from Sledge's mouth.

Rattling his name and address off Sledge felt his heart pounding.

Looking down at the hand-held breathalyser the officer shrugged.

"No alcohol." The officer said sounding a little disappointed.

"Where are you heading?" He asked. His face suddenly lit up.

"Hey, I know you! Piper, the girl who saved the priests from that crazy bastard, what was his name again? Orcus!" He beamed rushing over to the passenger side of the car.

"Can I get a photo, please. It's for my sister." He pulled out his cell phone and knelt beside the car. Piper smiled as he pressed the button on the cell's camera.

"Very professional behaviour, officer?" Sledge muttered.

He glanced down at the officer's badge.

"Winton, is it?" He smirked.

"Yes, Sir. You must be Sludge. I mean Sledge." He slipped his phone into his pocket.

"You guys have a great day." Withdrawing to the police car with its lights still, blazing Officer Winton hit the send button on his Facebook account knowing his friends would be way impressed.

"I wasn't expecting that." Piper blushed.

"Bloody hell, neither was I but at least we know for a fact that we did not consume that amount of alcohol. It would have registered when I blew into the breathalyser."

"I know that you might not have thought of this, but I did, and it really bothers me. I am so embarrassed to even think about it." Piper lowered her head as she spoke pretending to choose between a bunch of cherries or kiwi fruit.

"We were out for at least five days and nights. Bodily functions?" She looked over at Sledge.

"I have thought about that Piper, believe me." He clenched the steering wheel.

"There was no sign of any, to be clinical, bodily waste. Did they insert catheters? Did they strap us to a bed and place bedpans under out butt's?" He shrugged his shoulders then drank heavily from a bottle of spring water.

They drove in relative silence back to Queenstown.

"Your place or mine?" Piper asked as they crossed the bridge in Frankton.

"Glad you asked babe. Let's get something to eat. I am bloody hungry." He turned into parking in Shotover street.

Tucking into her burger, Piper watched the crowd lining the street outside of the world renown burger joint.

"How did you manage to push in front of the long line of people waiting, Sledge?" She asked dipping her fries into aioli sauce.

"It's not what you know but who you know." He smiled at a pretty blond girl behind the counter.

"Oh, I see now."

"Just a friend Piper." He smiled.

"We need rest and food, let's get something else and go back to your place. Tomorrow, we will find out what has been happening regarding Smith and the others in our absence, then take it from there."

"My stomach feels as if is going to explode." Piper groaned leaning back against the couch. She clicked on internet sites and went through the local papers they had picked up along the way.

"It seems that our Inspector Rees has become something of a local and international hero. All but two of the so-called "Legionnaires", as the reporter calls them, have been arrested. Inspector Rees has taken all of the credit for solving the case and apprehending the suspects."

Sledge glanced at the photo's in the paper. Inspector Rees receiving an award from the Mayor, another one standing beside a visiting Catholic Cardinal. Sledge smiled.

"I'm sure I know that bloke. Seen him somewhere before." Sledge said curtly. Noticing a certain degree of antagonism in his voice, Piper decided to call it a day.

"That can wait until tomorrow." Piper led him by the hand to her bedroom.

Outside, under the shadows of an old oak tree, a lone figure watched Piper's bedroom light go out. He lit a cigarette. Impatiently he watched from his car dozing off and on until the first rays of sunshine illuminated the eastern horizon.

Today would be an exciting day.
Chapter 25

Piper heard a distant noise. It sounded like someone chopping wood. There it was again. Disorientated, she sat up in the bed.

"Bloody hell, who can it be at this time of the morning?" Shaking Sledge by the shoulder, she wrapped the sheet around her body.

"Coming, hang on a minute, damn!" Stubbing her toe on the dresser on the way out she swore.

"Piper, I'm so happy you are awake. We have to be at the church in an hour, and there is still so much to do!" Mrs Mac Dougal pushed past her and walked straight into the kitchen.

"I'll make you a lovely cup of tea while you get ready. Wear a pretty dress. The Cardinals will be there." Rooting around in the kitchen she found two cups and walked over to the fridge to get the milk.

"Where do you keep your tea bags, dear?" Dumbfounded Piper shook her head.

"What do you mean Mrs Mac Dougal? I have no idea what you are talking about."

Turning to Piper, Mrs Mac Dougal stared at her with a stern expression on her face.

"Have you not read any of the messages we sent you. I tried to call you on your mobile phone so many times over the last few days, but all I got was a voice message."

"We were away for a few days Mrs Mac Dougal, just me and Sledge. After everything that happened we deserved a little break, don't you think?" She placed another cup on the table.

"Sledge is here too, where are we going?" Not feeling at all like socialising Piper began mentally running through a list of plausible excuses.

"There is a very special event being held at the church. Ten young children will receive their First Holy Communion and guess who will be there?" Beaming, Mrs Mac Dougal waited for Piper to answer.

"The new Cardinal who will be appointing an Arch Bishop for our parish. That maniac Orcus and his gang of bloodthirsty murderers could not stop our brave clergymen from continuing Gods work. You are to be the guest of honour and deservedly so after all you did to save Cardinal Richards." Pouring the tea, Mrs Mac Dougal waved Piper away.

"Get dressed my dear, and I am sorry to say, but only you are invited. Your young man can stay here, and I have been instructed by an anonymous caller to tell him to make sure he has his phone turned on. He is to expect an urgent call, something about a large sum of money this mysterious man is will to pay for the original of Sledge's now famous photograph. The one of the killer in the mist standing on top of the hill holding a cross and an incense burner."

"Sledge, Mrs Mac Dougal says to turn on your phone. A bloke wants to buy your photos!" Piper shouted toward the bedroom.

"I'll be a minute I just need to shower and dress." She left Mrs Mac Dougal sipping her tea in the lounge.

"Damn it, I don't want to go to their bloody do but if I don't what will people think?" Hurriedly she slipped on a dress she had not worn in a while.

"See you in a few hours my love." Kissing Sledge on the cheek, she ushered Mrs Mac Dougal out of the apartment before Sledge came walking through to the kitchen naked to get his tea.

He watched Piper get into Mrs Mac Dougal's car then searched through his clothes on the floor beside the bed until he found his phone. After a shower, he connected the phone to a charger before rummaging around the fridge for last night's leftovers.

Sitting at the table, Sledge opened the local paper. It bothered him. The new Cardinal seemed so familiar, but Sledge could not remember where he had seen the Cardinal before. Pushing the paper to the side, he finished off a share of the leftovers.

Again, he stared at the Cardinals picture, in the paper.

Startled by the shrill sound of the cell ringing Sledge picked it up and answered.

His body froze, a metallic voice droned. A voice he was all too familiar with by now.

"Fire from heaven!" was all the caller said.

Sledge felt terrible pain rush through his body. Struggling to maintain his lucidity he smashed the cell against the kitchen wall. Dropping to his knees, he attempted to concentrate on his immediate surroundings.

The familiar surroundings and everyday items in Piper's home blurred in his mind's eye with flashes of bright lights. His breath was short and shallow. Resisting the urge to black out Sledge used all his strength to focus on a photo of Piper and her brother Robert taken years ago on the wall. His mind slipped into the dark depths of primal survival.

Laying sprawled on the floor he knew what he had to do. Slowly and mechanically he dressed. In a world of his own, he walked slowly to a place he knew he must go. The reason why he was doing so eluded him for the moment.

Driving into gravel car park beside the church Piper looked out of the car window at the neatly arranged tables which had been decorated and set out on the lawn.

"Once the Cardinal arrives with the Arch Bishop they will say mass and the children will be given their First Holy Communion. They have worked so hard, the little angels. Today they will be receiving the body of our saviour for the first time. I remember being so excited when I was a child." Pulling Piper by the elbow toward the tables.

"Everything is ready. When the people exit the church, the children will sit at the tables with their parents and the Cardinal and Arch Bishop." She pointed at two large and comfortable chairs at the head of the main table.

"You and I will be seated over there." Indicating with a nod of her head toward a table at the far end.

"And what am I supposed to do here today? Is it a press thing or something like that?" Confused, Piper thought about merely walking away.

"No, silly girl. The Cardinal wishes to thank you for what you did. Somehow, they think Sledge was a little, how did they put it? Over the top or heavy-handed in dealing with the matter. Never mind, I'm sure it will be an exciting experience meeting a Cardinal!" Rushing off to oversee the preparation of the tea and cake for the ceremony Mrs Mac Dougal left Piper standing alone in the small garden between the church and the priory or priests house.

She watched a newly appointed priest exit what was before the home of Father Smith. Wondering what had happened to all of Father Smith's possessions Piper suddenly turned when she heard a familiar voice.

"G' day Piper, fancy seeing you here!" Inspector Rees laughed sarcastically. He looked around.

"Where's the other half then? Sort of thought you two were an item." He chuckled.

"Sledge has not been invited, and I don't have a bloody clue why I was." It began to irritate her the way Rees looked her in the eye for a second then he would scan the entrance to the church, the cars passing and everything in sight.

"I've got a damn stressful day ahead, what with these two visiting clergymen. Both bloody bigwigs, can't take the chance anything might go wrong given what has been happening here over the last few weeks." The radio on his flak jacket crackled into life.

"Bravo Two in position. Nothing to report." Rees clicked the send button twice in acknowledgement.

"Heard you and Sledge were away for a few days. Go anywhere exciting?" He peered in her direction for a second then his eyes turned to the hotel windows overlooking the church.

"Not really, just a quiet break away from all of this." She waved her hands around in the air indicating the church and police cars.

"Bravo Three, a significant increase in website traffic. Millions of people are clicking onto the internet sending links to each other for a particular dark web site address, over."

"Affirmative, monitor the situation." Rees bit his lower lip.

"Have you seen todays paper, Piper." He walked a few steps over to his police cruiser. Returning with a copy of the local newspaper he pushed aside neatly arranged cutlery on the table. Throwing the paper onto the white tablecloth, he pointed to the headlines and a photo of the visiting Arch Bishop shaking hands with the Cardinal.

"So, what? They will be here for a few hours and then get back onto a plane, and we won't have anything more to worry about."

"It's what's on the side of the photo that worries me, Piper. Do you have any idea of what it signifies? You knew what the Viking picture signified, and Vlad the Impaler and the crucifixion. What the hell does this mean?" Slamming his palm down on a sponsored article beside the main story was what looked like an engraving or painting.

Piper stared down at the engraving. It seemed familiar, American Civil War.

"I remember now, something like a sniper in a tree." She took her phone out of the small military ammo pouch she used as a handbag. It clashed with her dress but what the hell.

"Here we go, it is by Winslow Homer. It was an engraving and as I understand later a painting entitled "Sharpshooter on duty in the Army of the Potomac." The engraving was dated November 15 1862." Piper read the description below.

"According to this article, it shows a sharpshooter, a Yankee aiming at a Confederate soldier in the distance. The glint in his eyes and the way he balances the rifle suggests that he is an expert marksman, but due to his precarious position he may soon become a casualty of war himself."

"Once the enemy located his firing position up in the tree he would stand little or no chance of jumping down before he was shot himself. Rather suicidal if you ask me." Rees looked directly at Piper.

"Do you see any tall tree around here?" He asked

"No, not really close by but a trained sniper with a high calibre rifle over there." She trailed off suddenly realising she was implicating Sledge.

"Just what I thought. Sledge was a sniper in the Foreign Legion, wasn't he? Where is Sledge at the moment?"

"He is at home, my place. Call him if you want. Here is his number." She scribbled Sledge's number down on the paper.

Rees looked at her intently. He reached out for her cell. Flicking to his number Piper pressed the call button.

It rang for a few seconds then went onto voice mail. Again, and again Piper tried.

"It seems as if he is otherwise occupied, Piper."

"I'm sure he has forgotten to charge his phone. You know what guys are like?" Her heart hammered in her chest. It began to worry her.

"Bravo Three, convoy en route. Picking up multiple videos online of the convoy live. Over." Rees held his breath.

"What is the address of the site?" Piper asked.

"Wait one." He held up his hand.

"What's your Facebook address?" Piper hesitated then thinking of Sledge wrote it down next to his number on the paper.

"Command to Bravo Three, send the link to the following address." He spoke into his radio as he read out the address.

"I've got it, Rees. Here we go." Piper clicked onto the site using a dark web app.

"Let's see what's happening, and its Inspector Rees if you don't mind." He motioned Piper to sit down at the table. Sitting down beside her they watched the convoy leaving the airport and turning into Frankton Road.

"Alpha four, check out the Frankton Hub, video footage coming from the bus station." He watched the marked police car followed by a black limousine trailed by another marked police car. In front and behind the police cars were unmarked vehicles with law enforcement officers behind the wheel.

"Wait one, check out someone with a camera near the traffic circle on Frankton Road." He jabbed his finger at the screen.

"Here Inspector, on the website. They are asking for anyone along the route to send in videos. Everyone from the airport to here with a cell can send them the exact location of the clergymen. Wait a second."

The screen went from shots of the convoy to a man wearing a mask. "Welcome my friends. Orcus here, still alive and kicking. Justice will be done today, as we have meted out justice to those deserving of it before. Fire will rain from the skies and strike these two perverted bastards down before your eyes. Stay with me and witness Sacred Retribution!"

An image of the soldier sniping the enemy from a precarious treetop position appeared online. Video footage of the Cardinal and Arch Bishop driving in real time on the website appeared.

Sledge slipped unnoticed into the construction site. He felt as if he had way too much to drink. Physically he was all there. Mentally he had a few seconds of clarity where he wondered what he was doing and how he got there, but for ninety-five per cent of the time Sledge had no control over, nor any recollection of what he was doing.

As if some unknown force guided his body Sledge climbed onto a building crane. Slowly he reached the control cabin. Opening the door, he reached down and pulled a dirty tarp off of a long, rectangular reinforced plastic case.

His heart skipped a beat at the sight of the dismantled M 107 Barrette 50 calibre sniper rifle. Automatically he began assembling the gun, looking down into the plastic container he noticed three fully loaded magazines. Clipping the first magazine on the rifle, he looked down the sight. There was little to no wind, little more than three hundred meters from the target, easy. He took a deep breath, adjusting the sight Sledge zoomed in on what he knew, somehow to be the target area. Sledge watched a pretty young girl talking to a police officer through his sights.

"Piper!" he fought to regain control of his mind and body.

Chapter 26

Watching Rees talk over his radio Piper noticed the expression on his face. He stared directly at her as he spoke. One hand on the radio, the other tucked into the side of his belt, Rees walked toward her slowly and deliberately.

"Bad news I'm afraid Piper. I sent an officer around to your place to verify that Sledge was still there, possibly sleeping or whatever." He frowned down at her.

"There was no one home, and the officer monitoring the C.C.T.V cameras in town reported seeing Sledge headed this way. Unfortunately, we lost him in the crowd, but I can assure you that we will find him." Cocking his head to one side, Rees raised an eyebrow.

"Is there anything I should know, tell me now and perhaps we can avoid a situation we will all regret later." He fixed her with an icy gaze.

"Well, something strange happened when we went away. I don't know how to explain it, but we seem to have lost six days. On the first day, we were having a great time. Then we woke up around six days later." Rees looked shocked.

"We both felt awful, starving and thirsty and disorientated. Sledge had what looked like a flashback from his army days. I am so worried that it might be happening again." She looked down at the ground feeling guilty at having spoken to Rees about what had happened to them.

"I see, and do you know for sure if Sledge was out the whole time as well. You mentioned that you both woke up at the same time. Is it possible that only you were, how can I put it, sedated?"

Piper felt her face turn red with embarrassment. She shook her head.

"I can't say for sure. All I know is that we had what looked like these sand fly bites on our arms and bruises around our wrists and lower legs." Rees placed his hand on Piper's arm. He inspected her bites.

"Possibly sand flies, but it looks a lot more like needle marks. I've seen a few in my line of work before." He was about to say something when Orcus appeared online again.

"You have prepared your defences well, Inspector Rees, but they are not strong enough to withstand our determination and skill. Please do take this personally Inspector Rees, very personally." Dramatic music played in the background, Orcus pointed his finger at the camera.

"Let the games begin!"

"Bastard, stop the convoy immediately! You hear, right bloody now!" Screaming into his radio, Rees looked up in horror as the black limousine turned into the gravel driveway.

"Move! Quickly get them out of there and into the church!" Rees shielded the Cardinal with his body ushering the Cardinal into the church while a Sergeant did likewise with the Arch Bishop.

"Oh my God, Sledge! Where are you, my love?" Running through a million scenarios, none which seemed very plausible, Piper turned her back on the church. Away from the dramatic scenes unfolding unbeknown to the congregation she looked out at the hundreds of windows facing the church. There were hotels, houses and campsites in the immediate area. Anyone of those places could be a potential threat.

Rees felt a little less stressed when the clergymen began conduction Mass. He stepped outside demanding Sitreps from his teams. Situation Reports were all clear, no threat detected.

Online, Orcus went through a list of recent developments whereby the Pope almost stifled any attempt to discuss abuse. He had even gone so far as setting up a select group who monitored Catholic internet sites critical of his ideas. The Pope censored or shut down the opposing internet sites.

Interest in the site began to fall. People turned off or watched something else. Piper sat down on the grass beside the tables. Lighting a cigarette, she forced herself to think clearly.

Piper was sure Sledge was out there somewhere. Call it feminine intuition, but she somehow knew. It was almost as if she could feel him watching her.

Turning around Piper looked at the rear of the garden, a high wall and flower pots. A policewoman walked stood watching. To her right the mountain and the Skyline Gondola were almost visible, the fir-covered slopes were awash with tourists Zip-lining and Paragliding. Not a very secure place for an assassination attempt.

To the left she saw a couple of overlooking hotels, her heart beat faster. A figure in black fatigues climbed onto the roof of a hotel. Immediately the figure lay down facing outwards. She noticed a rifle in their hands.

"A soldier, a sniper in a precarious position, almost waiting to become a casualty himself."

In the distance, she caught sight of a building under construction. In the middle of the yard, a crane stood towering over the foundations and the metal scaffolding.

"Piper, don't sit down on the lawn like that. You will get grass stains on your beautiful white dress." Mrs Mac Dougal whined.

"Mrs Mac Dougal, I need to borrow your car." Piper held out her hand for the keys.

"Oh, don't be silly my dear."

"Now!" Piper cut her short.

"Piper drove recklessly down Ballarat Street narrowly avoiding a collision turning in front of a car running the red light. Speeding up Stanley Street she pulled to a halt at the construction site.

Running through the building site, she stared up at the crane towering above.

"Sledge, can you hear me!" she called out wondering if he was even there in the crane cabin.

"Oh, no I really don't need this right now." Climbing onto the large concrete blocks securing the crane to the ground Piper looked up at the metal structure towering high above her.

"Great day to be scared of heights." She noticed the ladder leading to the control cabin was either missing or drawn up.

"You had better be up in that cabin you bastard. I'm not going through this for nothing." She gingerly positioned her feet and hands on the steel pieces comprising the mast or tower of the crane.

Craning her head, she peered at the control cabin seemingly perched amongst the clouds high above Queenstown.

"Really, it's only about four storeys high. No worries at all."

Closing her eyes, she placed one hand after the other on the metal rungs. They were warm from the sunshine. Her legs trembled climbing higher. Once she looked down. Her stomach leapt into her throat.

"Look straight ahead or at the floor of the cabin." She told herself. Step by step the cabin drew closer. Police sirens wailed ever closer. Piper held tightly to the metal structure for a few seconds as she flipped off her shoes. A gust of wind unsettled her. She felt nauseous.

In the distance, church bells rang. Not the bronze bells of old but a synthesised recording of bells played over loudspeakers. No one seemed to notice nowadays. They saw bells ringing on their cell phones or on the internet and heard the sound. In their minds, when a bell rang they imagined a bell tower and two or three bronze bells swinging with the aid of a rope. They hear a recording of a bell and the thought of where the sound came from as the church had no bell tower never entered their minds.

Piper climbed faster. She hit her head. Looking up she noticed that she was finally inches from the trapdoor leading into the control tower.

Sledge sat with his legs propped on either side of the cabin. Resisting the temptation to take cover he felt the enemy bullets clipping the branches of the apple tree in which he perched precariously.

Loading his rifle Sledge aimed the enemy commanders. He knew that if he could neutralise the two men about to enter his line of fire, he would put an end to the suffering.

Images of friends crying out in pain, writhing in the dirt with missing limbs, blood spurting from terrible wounds filled his vision. He was supposed to provide "Overwatch" when his mates attacked the enemy positions.

Each machine gunner spouting death. Every rifleman firing at his friends were threats to be eliminated. Not for King and country, but for the bond of friendship, for his mate's mother or wife and children who wanted more than anything to see their father, husband or son return home in one piece. He had to keep them safe.

Somehow, he knew from photographs who the enemy commanders were. He aimed for the enemy command post situated in the churchyard. He watched as his mates assaulted the surrounding area. Scanning left to right, foreground to the middle ground and then in the distance Sledge saw no threat as his mates advanced toward the enemy command post. He checked the steeple for counter-sniper fire. Nobody was hiding there. Bullets thudded under his sniper platform.

He had one option. The enemy was closing in from behind. He drew the handgun from the holster around his waist, placing the sniper rifle against the control panel of the cabin.

He waited for the knock on the cabin floor to sound again. Cocking the Colt 45, he paused. He heard the subdued thumping sound again. Flicking off the trapdoor hatch lever, he pointed the 45 at the enemy trooper. Her deep brown eyes penetrated his. For a millisecond he held his fire, squeezing the trigger until the slack was taken up. An extra ounce of pressure and a bullet would penetrate the skull of the person climbing his apple tree.

Chapter 27

Piper heard the trapdoor unlatch. She stared into the barrel of the gun pointing at her face. In slow motion, she noticed the barrel of the weapon, oiled and threateningly pointing at her face. She could almost feel the hammer blow of the discharge as the slug tore through her face

"Sledge. it's me, Piper!" The expression in his eyes terrified her.

"Don't do it, my love, please!" She searched his eyes for some hint of recognition.

"I'm here to help you Sledge. Please let me in before they see us up here and start shooting." Tentatively she took a step further up the tower, her head and shoulders entered the cabin. Pushing past Sledge Piper slammed the hatch down hard.

"Keep down Piper. They are about to show themselves." Sledge squinted down the sight of the rifle.

"They are using you Sledge. Somehow you have been programmed into thinking that you are fighting in a war. It's not true. It's what you called M.K. Ultra." Kissing him on the cheek, she tried getting through to him. Sledge hesitated, he stared at Piper.

Bells chimed in the distance. Down below children walked happily out of the church and into the garden where they sat down at the tables.

"Sledge ran his hand across Piper's cheek, gently placing the rifle to the side of the cabin he wrapped his arms around Piper.

"What the hell happened to me, babe?" He seemed totally disorientated.

"Strapping the rifle to his back Sledge began clambering down the tower. Piper closed her eyes and followed.

"Damn it. I just put my foot into a huge slab of wet concrete. Here Piper, let me help you." Guiding Piper past, the concrete slab Sledge stared around the construction site.

"They must have poured the concrete last night and are waiting for it to dry before continuing their work on Monday morning." Unloading the rifle Sledge took the working parts out, pushing the 50 Calibre down into the almost dry concrete slab, followed by the ammunition and the moving parts.

"I need to sort my shit out Piper, how could I have done that?" He looked back at the crane towering above them.

"Definitely Sledge, you have to really dig deep and remember what happened when we were down at the lake. You can do that later, but right now we have to fix things with Rees."

Driving slowly through town before heading back to the church Sledge avoided the two police cars screaming to a halt outside the building site.

"Oh, don't they just look adorable Rees!" Piper smiled at the children eating cake around the tables. Moving between the tables, the Cardinal and Arch Bishop congratulated the children.

"Where were you earlier Sledge? We picked you up on C.C.T.V walking through town. You were missing in action for quite a while. Do you know anything about this?" Pushing a cell phone under Sledge's nose, Rees stared intently at him looking for a reaction.

"Watch as the avenging angel strikes from the skies!" Dramatic music played rising to a crescendo. Orcus boasted to his audience. Both priests were seen on screen talking to the congregation, smiling and shaking hands they blessed the assembled parishioners.

"No Rees, I don't. What's this all got to do with me now anyway. I thought that you settled this little affair while we were away. Didn't you take all the credit for solving the case?"

"There are at least two of them at large Sledge. Smith and that bastard Orcus. It seems like someone did a number on you two, or maybe only on Piper. Where were you when she was unconscious Sledge? Yes, I know all about what happened at the lake. I need you to come in and talk to someone." Rees scanned the area as he spoke.

"Moving out Inspector. Get ready for the return trip to the airport. By the way, they found nothing at the construction site. No one was there." An officer spoke quietly to Rees.

"Yes, I see. Don't let your guard down for a second. For all, we know the assassin could still be out there." Rees spoke softly into his radio. He didn't need one of the churchgoers overhearing his conversation and start a panic.

"It seems our friend Orcus missed his opportunity. He promised blood and gore but with nothing happening his viewers are tuning into other sites fast. He has lost momentum and with that his credibility."

Walking briskly to his patrol car Rees concentrated on the return route of the convoy.

"You don't look very good Sledge. Let's go back home and see what we can do for you." Piper held his hand realising how narrowly a terrible disaster had been avoided.

Slamming his fist against the dashboard of his car which reeked of stale coffee, fast foods and body odour, Smith cursed.

"I have failed in my mission. I have failed Orcus." Everything he had worked so hard for, everything he had genuinely believed in, was over. He thought that they could change the system and force the Vatican to hand over sex offenders to the proper authorities to be punished for their sins.

"Once again, the abusers walked free, smiling while they graciously waved at their brainwashed congregation, blessing the families of the children they had or would abuse." Smith felt his stomach turn at the thought.

Anger at Sledge's failure to execute the mission raged inside.

"I will make you pay for your refusal to carry out your orders Sledge. Believe me. I will." He fumed watching Sledge walking hand in hand with Piper toward her house.

"I have lost everything, and now you, in turn, will lose all you hold dear."

Chapter 28

Running her hands over a selection of crystals Piper felt one calling to her. She picked it up.

Gently swinging the crystal attached to a thin silver chain in front of Sledge, she whispered.

"I want you to relax and breathe deeply. Watch the crystal."

"Do you think this regression hypnosis will work Piper, it sounds like one of your New Age, Wicca things." Looking up at her Sledge smiled, unsure of what would happen if it did work.

Piper glanced down at her wristwatch. It was three thirty-two in the morning.

"Crazy time to be doing something like this Sledge, but the moon is in the right position now, and the earth will be awakening from her slumber soon, positive energy will fill the entire area, and that includes you and me." Consulting her notebook, she decided that this would be the ideal time for what she had set out to do.

"What if something goes wrong?" Sledge asked.

"I can't try if you keep on interrupting Sledge. Concentrate and let your mind drift. Listen to what I say. Smell the fragrant sandalwood incense throughout the room, listen to the gentle sound of the wind chimes outside."

Shrugging, he lay back in a relatively comfortable position on the couch.

"Police have successfully used hypnosis in a growing number of cases around the world. When the subject enters an altered state of mind, they recall details they could not remember when conscious. Let's give it a try."

Pushing him back down on the couch Piper tried again.

"There we go. You are perfectly relaxed, breath deeply." Glancing at the clock on the wall she noticed it had been twenty minutes that she had been trying to hypnotise him. Eyes closed, breathing deeply and rhythmically he lay on the couch with Piper sitting cross-legged on the wooden floor beside him.

"You are now at the lake. Can you see the shimmering waters, feel the light breeze? We are happy. Do you see me in your mind's eye?"

Nodding almost imperceptibly he smiled slightly.

"What do you see now Sledge?"

Piper recorded the session on her cell.

"I see you. You look so beautiful as you are standing there with the breeze tugging at your hair" Piper blushed, feeling a little disturbed. Would there be things she didn't ever want to hear? Pushing her thoughts aside she continued.

"What happens next? We are out on the deck, suddenly we both pass out. See the moment in slow motion, as if it was a video clip frame by frame."

Breathing slightly faster his eyelids flickered.

"You are standing in front of me. I see you begin to lose consciousness. I reach out to catch you. Movement in the bushes close by." He shook his head from side to side.

"And then what happened? Can you see anyone?" Gently holding his hand, Piper continued.

"No, everything is black. There are voices in the distance, a car motor starting. It's dark. Somehow I think that we were in the boot of a car."

Sledge began jerking spasmodically. His body shook, his eyes rolled back revealing the whites of his eyes. Piper stifled a scream.

"What's happening my love? What are they doing to you?" Thinking of possibly terminating the experiment Piper was about to slap Sledge out of it when he began talking again.

"I see medical drips hanging from the side of the bed. Bright lights, excruciating pain." Sweat glistened on his body.

Messages in my head, all the time. Day and night. I am so worried about you." Piper began to sob.

"A soldier in a tree, I see him all the time I am under their control. He is aiming at the enemy. Faces of the two priests flash at the same time. They are the target. I am the soldier."

"No! Not again. Don't do it!" Shaking from head to toe Sledge almost fell off of the couch.

"Wake up my love! Wake up please." Regretting her decision to try the regressive hypnosis Piper was terrified that there would be lasting side effects having brought painful memories back to the surface.

"Wake up Sledge!" Gently running her hand over his face, she drew back as he opened his eyes.

"I am so sorry my love, I shouldn't have put you through that." Wrapping her arms around him, she held him close.

"Give me a minute, will you?" She could feel his heart pounding. Handing him a glass of water she waited.

"Hell, that was something. If it was real, it was as if I was back in some medical unit. There were all these tubes and things in my arms." Looking down at the marks on their arms they both felt shocked.

"We have never mentioned it before, choosing both to ignore the obvious. What if Robert did a number on us?" He looked at Piper.

"We both know enough now about M.K Ultra and the C.I.A experiments on people. I have been reading up on it too Sledge." Not wanting to confront the idea of her brother being responsible for all of this she stared up at the ceiling.

"Everything points to us having been abducted, brainwashed and me being sent out to assassinate the two priests. A typical M.K operation. But where do you fit into all of this?"

For a moment they stared at each other.

"I have no idea what happened to me except for the same marks on my arms as you Sledge. If I was part of their plan why would I have stopped you shooting the two priests?"

Taking a step back, Piper sensed a change in Sledge. Avoiding eye contact, he held up his hand as if to silence her.

"Oh my God, no Sledge!" He looked as if he was about to have another attack.

"Had the hypnosis had reactivated the orders implanted in his mind when he was under their control?" Turning to run, she felt his hand grip her tightly by the shoulder, spinning her sideways across the couch, she screamed.

Gripping the heavy glass ashtray in his hand, Piper watched as he lifted his arm. Closing her eyes, waiting for the impact Piper could not believe he had turned against her, heartbroken she watched the scene unfold as in slow motion.

Sledge threw the ashtray, aimed at her head with all his force. She closed her eyes again, holding up her hands.

Bewildered, she wondered how he had missed at that range. Launching forward Sledge rushed straight at her, at the last possible moment he vaulted over the couch where she lay trembling and slammed into the door on the far side.

Turning in time to see Sledge shoulder the door with all his weight. Piper seemed to be hallucinating. A hand holding a pistol protruded from the space between the door and the frame. Gripping the hand tightly Sledge pulled the man into the room. Falling forward with the force of momentum the assailant the lost his balance, glass splinters had cut his face. Snapping his elbow into the man's face Sledge kicked his leg from under him.

Still falling toward the floor Sledge hit the man twice in the throat before slamming him down onto the hard floor. Twisting the pistol from his hand Sledge pulled the man's head up, the barrel of the gun against his head.

"Don't do it, Sledge, don't kill him!" Piper screamed.

"So, we meet again, Father Smith!" Pointing to her bathrobe, Piper shook her head wondering what Sledge wanted.

"Your belt, or tie-on whatever it's called. Give it to me." He held out his hand while Piper untied her belt.

Roughly pinioning Smith to the floor Sledge knelt with his knee in Smith's back as he tightly bound the belt around his wrists.

Blood trickled down Smith's chin from the cut on his lip. Checking the pistol was fully loaded Sledge pointed it at Smith.

"Okay you bastard, what's going on?" He dragged Smith into the lounge. Holding his injured forearm, Smith shrugged slightly.

"Nothing personal, but you disobeyed a direct instruction. Those priests should be dead now and would have been if it were not for this meddling bitch." Glancing sideways at Piper, Smith spat on the floor.

"No one treats a lady like that." Sledge smashed Smith's face against the floorboards.

"You idiots, I because of you I have been excommunicated from the church. I have nowhere to live, and my account was frozen."

"Not to mention the police after you," Piper said.

"You know what happened to us when we were abducted down at the lake. Talk Smith." Sledge said menacingly, turning Smith over and roughly pushing him by the throat against the couch.

"Kiss my ass you bastard." Smirking, Smith stared at Sledge.

"Okay, nothing personal, as you said." Reaching down Sledge picked up a jagged piece of broken glass from the ashtray lying nearby.

Holding Smith's jaw in one hand, Sledge pried his mouth open pushing the jagged shard into Smith's mouth.

"One last chance. Talk!" Lifting his hand Sledge was about to punch Smith in the mouth.

"No, don't. You damn sick bastard." Smith struggled to speak, the glass cutting his mouth. Blood ran down his shirt.

None too gently Sledge pulled the glass shard out of Smith's mouth.

"There is a place, close to where the first bastard got wasted. Close to where Connelly got the Blood Eagle treatment down by the river. We had a control room there. The room was used during the gold rush as a supply depot." He spat out a thick gob of blood.

"Sledge, can I get him a glass of water or something to rinse his mouth out with?" Piper reached into the cupboard for a glass.

Turning to Piper, Sledge nodded. Wriggling into a more comfortable position Smith waited for Piper to fill the glass.

"Who is Orcus? You must be very well acquainted with him, Smith. I want to know what his real name is and where I can find him."

Smith swallowed more blood then looked surprised.

"Believe it or not, I have never met the great man. We were given instructions over the phone, e-mails and that sort of thing. He graced us with his presence a few times, but he was always wearing his mask. I honestly have no idea what he looks like under the mask nor do I know his real name or any other details. All we cared about was the cause and the money." He trailed off.

"Stop fidgeting, here comes your water." Holding Smith by the shoulder, Sledge pushed him once again against the couch. Sitting looking up at Piper, Smith opened his mouth.

Taking a large sip of water Smith drew leant his head back. He closed his eyes.

"Bloody hell, has he passed out?" Piper looked at Smith.

"He isn't breathing." Sledge was inches away from Smith's face. Smith spat a thick mixture of blood and water into Sledge's eyes.

Blinded, Sledge instinctively backed away.

Kicking with both legs, Smith sent Sledge flying into Piper. A shard of glass flashed inches from Sledge's throat. It was the jagged glass Smith had picked up while on the floor and used to cut the belt.

In a jumble of arms and legs, blinded, Sledge and Piper lay helpless on the floor. Smith turned and ran. Rushing through the door, he fled down the passageway and out of the window he had used to infiltrate Piper's home.

"Damn, that was close." Looking through the window Sledge watched Smith running down the street.

Piper attempted a weak smile wiping the blood from her face.

"After him, if we don't end this now we will be looking over our shoulders for the rest of our lives Piper." He bolted out of the door followed closely by Piper.

Smith limped toward his car. Fumbling for the keys, he heard footsteps approaching behind him. Piper and Sledge were almost at the corner, a few seconds more and they would catch him before he could make his escape.

Sledge sprinted down the street confident that Smith would not have time to start his car. Three late-night revellers stepped out of a pub, straight into Sledge.

"Hey, watch it mate!" Sledge pushed a teenage boy aside.

Smith flung open the door of his car. He turned the key watching Sledge in the rear-view mirror. Slamming his foot on the accelerator, Smith clipped the tail light of the vehicle in front. Glass shattered, a car alarm broke the relative silence of the early morning. Tire's spinning, Smith sped off down the road. Turning to look for Piper, Sledge could not see her on the street.

"Bloody hell, that's the last we will see of that bastard." Sledge thought to himself as he turned walking back toward Piper's place.

"Get in. Smith must be going down toward the river."

"Damn it, Piper, you sure as hell know how to anticipate things." Sledge jumped into the passenger seat.

"Woman's intuition mate!" Slamming her foot down hard on the accelerator, Piper sped off in the direction they had seen Smith flee.

Few people travelled out of town at that time of the morning, except for the people who had spent all night out drinking and the chefs on breakfast duty or cleaner's setting off before dawn to work.

Police cars waited in the shadows, like sharks waiting for their prey. Slowing down when she spotted a police car on the side of the road Piper drove past. Seconds later she saw the bright lights of the police car flashing in the mirror.

Going through the usual courteous greeting from the officer and the breathalyser they were waved on. Smith had a good few minutes on them. Piper sped off down the road.

"There we are, babe, that's his car." Pointing to Smith's car, the only one besides the large campervans in the carpark in an area where freedom camping was allowed, Sledge scanned the treeline looking for Smith.

"Still too dark to see anything. Let's head upstream until it gets lighter. I think Smith will be heading for the area where Father Connelly was killed."

"It seems so strange. People walk past that part of the river with their dogs or pan for gold not knowing what has happened here. For my part, I don't ever want to set foot near here after this." Piper whispered then cursed. She felt mud oozing into her shoes.

"Over there, I saw movement in the bush." He tapped Piper on the shoulder. Looking in the direction Sledge pointed to, Piper noticed someone walking along the riverbank.

"Yes, I saw him, but he has vanished."

Drawing closer to the location Sledge pointed once again.

"Over there, he must have gone into one of the small crevasses in the hill."

Piper stared at the bush in front of them.

"I don't see anything Sledge."

"Look at the vegetation. The trees around here are all green. Over there, I see a bush with dried up leaves. They forgot to change their camouflage."

In the distance, they could see a small building. It resembled the stone cottages the gold miners inhabited during the gold rush.

"I see Smith over there going into the cottage!" Piper gripped Sledge by the hand.

"Okay, wait a few minutes, and then we go after him. Maybe we will see what he was attempting to protect."

Chapter 29

As in most cases along the shores of Lake Wakatipu and rivers surrounding Queenstown, first impressions were deceptive. From the road, one would see a small home or façade. When in the actual area, one would find themselves only at the first level of what would be a three-storey mansion. Enter the first level, and the house would go down three levels following the gradient of the mountainside.

The rich and famous purchased homes fit for a king but seldom spent any time there. Sledge suspected that the house they were entering was one of the many belonging to movie stars or the ultra-rich.

"Bloody hell, these places are huge. Fancy playing hide and seek here? I'd never find you." Smiling, Sledge led Piper by the hand through a massive oak wood doorway.

Following a long, dark corridor hung with original, signed works of art they entered a spacious living room. Clinically clean, nothing out of place. It was a house, not a home.

"Jesus, Sledge, fancy a cuppa?" Nudging Sledge in the ribs, Piper pointed to the array of coffee blenders lined up against a tiled wall.

"What are you doing?" Piper whispered as Sledge pushed against the walls in the entertainment area. He looked out over the balcony down at the early sunrise on the Shotover River. In the distance, greenish brown grass waved on the warm breeze.

"Here we go, I have been in places like this before. Everyone has a secret movie room!" Touching a panel Sledge opened a door.

Twelve movie chairs ran alongside the room in two rows. In the corner stood a pop-corn machine and to the side was a drinks dispenser.

The room smelt of a mixture of polish and popcorn. Flashing into life the giant screen blinded them with its fluorescent light. Both turned to face the screen.

"I know you would have been curious. These are the events which happened on your trip to the lake." Again, that familiar metallic voice droned over the speaker system.

"Here, you have what you have wanted to know. In the first seat is a suitcase, a small suitcase." Carried on the metallic voice.

Sledge decided to push things a little. He switched on the popcorn machine. Seconds later it popped into life. He added a lump of butter to the rim of the popcorn machine as an afterthought.

"Here we go mate, ice-cold cokes." Piper handed Sledge a plastic cup filled with Coca-Cola.

"Damn, they even have Gummy Bears." She grabbed a handful out of a candy dispenser.

"Sit down and watch. You failed me, Sledge! For that, I give credit to your willpower and outside help." They turned to the giant screen.

"That's down at the lake Sledge!" Piper muttered between a mouthful of Gummy Bears.

Slipping into a seat, Piper watched the scene unfold while Sledge moved toward the door. He stood watching the images flashing on the screen while concentrating on any noise or movement from the other side.

"This is what transpired, my friends." Orcus boomed, louder than any of the sounds emanating from the, almost hospital-like scene on the screen.

Piper held her hand over her mouth as she watched her and Sledge cuddling and kissing out on the deck at the lake-house. They ate, then slumped to the ground. Immediately, masked and uninformed people closed in on their inert bodies. Minutes later, they were videoed on single beds. Piper dropped her pop-corn watching images of herself flash before her eyes. The film fast forwarded through days in which Piper was kept prisoner, helplessly tied to a bed. Fed through intravenous tubes she tossed and turned. Women dressed as Nuns cared for her until the moment she was gently placed next to Sledge on the bed in the cabin by the women. One of the Nuns, obviously heavily pregnant knelt by Piper's side. She prayed, then stood up and walked out of the room.

"Holy shit, they kept you for all that time only to be shoved next to me in the bed!" He stared at the screen wondering if he would be next.

"I am sorry to say, but the following programme is recommended to be watched under parental guidance only!" Orcus laughed.

Sledge stared at the images of his body tied by leather restraints to a wooden chair. Close up shots focused on the drugs pumped through his veins. Images flashed, white noise screamed over the speakers.

Photographs of the Cardinal and the Arch Bishop appeared on a screen before Sledge. The timer on the screen flashed by on fast forward. Hours sped by in seconds, days passed in minutes.

Again, and again the images of the priests and a crane overlooking the church were entrenched in Sledge's mind. Piper held his hand tightly as they watched his ordeal.

Sledge sat bolt upright as the last image faded on the screen, that of his naked body being roughly tossed onto the bed beside Piper by two masked men.

"What have they done to you, my love!" Piper cried wrapping her arm around his shoulder.

For a moment he collected his thoughts. Feeling violated and slightly shocked, Sledge led Piper by the hand out of the room.

Down the hallway, classical music drifted through the house echoing off of the designer furniture and into the empty rooms. It was a house, a very tastefully decorated and expensive house, but it was not home. Children's toys and laughter were absent. There were no fading wedding photos on the mantlepiece, no mess or clothes scattered around.

Cautiously he led Piper down a spiral staircase. There in the room, like some fantasy figure, sat a man at the piano. Vivaldi's "Winter" drifted across the room. In the corner, a fireplace glowed. Masked, taken by the music, he stared out of the huge windows overlooking Lake Wakatipu.

"We have been expecting you Sledge. Piper, may I apologise for the intrusion at your home. Nothing personal, you understand." Waving a 9 mm pistol in their direction, Smith motioned them to be seated on a plush couch.

"Welcome, to my humble abode!" The last notes still hung tentatively in the air as the man finished his performance.

Piper gripped Sledge's hand so tightly he winced. This time there was no mistaking the voice. Piper stood taking a step toward the masked man hunched over the Baby Grand piano.

"My apologies Piper, but I must insist that you remain seated at all times." Waving the pistol in Piper's direction, Smith motioned her to sit.

Slowly the masked man turned on his piano stool to face Piper and Sledge. For a second their eyes met.

"Robert!" Piper stammered.

As if in a moment of a great reveal Robert unhurriedly removed the mask.

"Yes, my dear sister. It is I, Robert, your brother." Laughing, Robert walked over to a drinks cabinet.

"It's five o'clock. Time for a drink." He looked into the cabinet and grabbed a bottle of Vintage Cognac.

"It's not five and what the hell do you think you are doing, you bloody idiot!" Restraining herself from walking over to Robert and slapping him across the face Piper watched Smith's pistol pointing toward her and Sledge.

"Somewhere in the world it is five o' clock, and I am having a drink. What can I get you?" He smiled wiping sweat caused by the mask from his brow.

"I'll have a Virgin Bloody Mary, hold the celery," Sledge smirked. Robert poured Piper a Bourbon and coke then flung two tins of beer in the general direction of Sledge and Smith.

Both men reacted instinctively and caught their beers. Robert walked casually up to Piper. He placed the drink on a coaster on the mahogany table next to the vase of fresh Orchids. Their perfume was a contrast to the slight smell of gun oil and sweat.

Smith stared at Robert, beer in one hand, pistol covering Piper and Sledge in the other.

"It is an honour -to finally meet you face to face Orcus. I am ready for the next mission, whatever it may be." He aimed the pistol at Sledge's head.

"Not yet Smith, we still have some catching up to do. That can wait 'till later." He took a step closer to Piper.

"You are such a bloody idiot, mate!" Pointing her finger at Robert, Piper struggled to contain her emotions. Before them, stood her brother, childhood memories flashed through her mind. Then there was the unbelievable "Orcus" personality he had transformed into.

"So, I'm a bloody idiot? Really, my dear sister, you have no idea what I have been doing over the past few years." He reached over to the drinks cabinet. Picking up a small copper bell he rang twice. The shrill sound reverberated across the room.

Moments later, a young woman shuffled into the room. Eyes downcast, she held her trembling hands together as if she was saying a prayer. Piper stared at the young girl's stomach. Judging by the size of her belly, she must have been between seven to eight months pregnant.

"Oh, my God!" Shaking her head, Piper glared at Robert. He returned her icy stare calmly and collectively.

"May I present to you, Anna." Bowing slightly, Robert nodded toward the girl.

"Anna, my sister and a friend." Robert motioned off-handed toward Piper and Sledge. Please tell them your story, don't leave out any details. Not even the painful experiences you endured." Anna nodded timidly. Looking up at Piper, Anna's eyes were like a deer caught in

the headlights of a car."
Chapter 30

"Where are my manners?" Gently guiding Anna by the arm, he led her to a comfortable armchair facing Piper and Sledge. Smith kept his pistol pointed at both of them.

"May I offer you a drink, my dear?" Robert smiled politely.

"A lemonade with a slice of lime on the side of the glass please Smith," Anna replied. Sitting down on an adjacent chair, Robert waited until Smith placed a coaster on the table followed by a long, frosted glass of lemonade, a slice of lime on the side.

"My name is Anna. I am, or should I say, was a Nun." Her hands began to shake, reaching for the lemonade Anna took a long sip before continuing.

"I was a Sister, a Nun at a small convent by the name of Our Lady of Mercy. It was in a small town in the Pyrenees, in France." Running her hand over her belly, she winced.

"Baby is kicking. I'm sorry."

"No worries Anna. Can I get you something?" Attempting to get up Piper saw Smith's pistol pointed at her face. Slowly, she sat back down.

"It was what I had always wanted at first. I devoted myself completely to our Lord and the Order. I taught the local children, cared for the elderly and began to study further. Then everything changed, almost overnight." Eyes moist Anna wiped a tear from her cheek.

"At first, I went to confession almost every day. But then, I noticed the priest taking too much interest in me. He began by making me take confession, not in the confessional booth but a small enclave at the back of the altar. He would stand in front of me while I knelt. I could see that he was aroused. I knew what he was thinking." She began to cry softly.

"He placed his hand on my head as if to bless me, but instead he forced my head toward his crotch. I pulled away, screamed that I would tell the Reverend Mother." She shook her head.

"He simply laughed, a real dirty laugh." Robert offered her a tissue.

"The Reverend Mother looked unsurprised when I told her. She simply shrugged her shoulders. All she said was that many of the Sisters had been victims of the priests."

"Did you not live in separate accommodation? I thought that was how it was supposed to work?" Sledge asked softly.

"Yes, we did. An old stone wall surrounded our cloister. The monastery dated back two hundred years or more. Between our cloister and the priest's residence was the church. The Bishop routinely summoned us. During Mass, which was held four times a day we encountered the four priests and the Bishop. After Mass one morning I was told to wash and iron the Bishop's clothes and then cook the evening meal for him." She looked out of the window at the morning light beginning to reflect off of the calm waters of the lake.

"I worked hard. I thought it was my way of showing our Lord that I cared about those who had been chosen to lead the faithful. I cooked, cleaned and did all I could. Do you know, I was never invited to partake in the meals that I prepared?" Anna shook her head. Robert smirked. Sledge and Piper looked around the room for a way out or a weapon.

"We worked long hours for the clergy. Then we still had to perform our duties. Add the Mass four times a day to that. I was a wreck."

"Wow! I have suddenly realised something!" Sitting bolt upright Piper pointed at Anna.

"You were the Nun taking care of me when I was tied to the bed. While my damn brother was torturing sledge!" She glared at Robert who looked shocked at the sudden outburst.

"Yes, it was I, along with my fellow Nuns. I promise you that no harm or indignation was visited upon you while you were in our care." Anna's French accent came through as she spoke.

"Thank you, Anna. How can I help you?" Piper looked intently into Anna's eyes.

"I might need some help if the baby comes. I hate the fact that I am pregnant. I took a vow of celibacy, but the priest forced himself on me and then this." She ran her hands along her stomach.

"I will love my child and do all I can for him or her, but I will never let my child know who the father is." She glanced at Smith aiming his pistol at Sledge and Piper.

She winked secretively. Piper tensed while Sledge, Smith and Robert faced off.

"Oh, no! I feel the baby wriggling, its hurting like crazy!" Anna shuddered as her fingers gripped the chair. Her knuckles were white. Her face was etched with pain.

"Jesus, talk about bad timing!" Robert shook his head in frustration.

"We have less than an hour before Sledge will assassinate the Cardinal and Arch Bishop at the memorial ceremony. Why can't you hang on for an hour or two, Anna?" Robert slammed his fist against the countertop.

"I think my water has broken. Oh my God!" Curling up in a ball Anna slipped from the chair.

"Get hot water and towels!" Sledge blurted as Anna lay on the ground writhing in pain.

"Smith, fill a bucket of boiling water!" Sledge pointed to the hot water dispenser on the counter.

For a moment, Smith hesitated. He looked over at Robert for confirmation. Robert stared at Anna, not sure what to do. This was something he had not prepared for.

Robert nodded his consent, an irritated scowl creasing his face. Smith moved swiftly toward the hot water dispenser. Grabbing a plastic jug out of a corner cupboard, Smith proceeded to fill it with boiling water.

"How do you know about the hot water and towels?" Nudging Sledge, Piper whispered into his ear.

"I don't. I watched it on T.V." He replied moving closer to Anna.

"Keep away from her Sledge. Let Smith and my sister look after Anna. We have little time left to accomplish our assassinations. The world will be watching, so don't miss." He smiled menacingly at Piper.

"Do what I want, and you have my word that you will both walk out of here safe and considerably richer."

"Do it yourself, you bastard. I'm not getting involved in your crazy murders. But then again, I doubt that you even know how to fire a weapon." Smirking at Robert, Sledge crossed his arms staring defiantly.

"Oh!" Walking over to a cupboard in the open plan kitchen equipped with the latest kitchen devises Robert wrenched open the cupboard door. Turning swiftly, he aimed an assault rifle at Sledge.

Drawing back against the chair Sledge froze as Robert flicked the safety catch off. Three shots cracked inches past Sledge's head. For a moment time slowed down for Sledge. He saw the bright muzzle flashes, heard the spent cartridges ejected and bounce across the marble floor. He felt a blow to his head.

"Let that be a warning Sledge. I can fire a weapon almost as well as you do." Amused, Robert pointed to the wall behind Sledge with the barrel of the rifle.

"Inches from your head once stood a replica of a precious statue. A work of Renaissance art I purchased on the Black Market." He glanced over at Smith.

"You did do as I asked Smith? You did store the original in the safe and replaced it with a cheap fake, didn't you?" His voice sounded a little high pitched.

"Um, yes. I did." Looking down at the shattered remains of the statue Smith could not meet Roberts' eyes.

"Oh, Jesus! Do complete morons surround me? You forgot, didn't' you?" Robert screamed smashing the rifle butt down on the keys of the Baby Grand piano. A terrible off-key clatter rang through the room followed instantaneously by the ear-splitting noise of the rifle going off. Robert still had his finger on the trigger when he slammed the rifle down on the piano. His accidental discharge shattered the chandelier above. Shards of glass rained down over both Robert and the now battered piano.

"Smith, do you think you are capable of finding the technician? He should have the latest live coverage ready to go." Brushing shards of glass off of his shoulders Robert watched Smith hurry down the passageway.

"Do you have the Go-Pro? Are we all good to go James?" Questioning the technician, Robert kept his assault rifle pointing at Sledge.

"Yes Sir, all we have to do is strap the GO-Pro onto Sledge's forehead, and the assassinations will be streamed on the Web live. Our people are hacking into television stations and internet sites as we speak." James nodded toward Sledge.

"Change of plan James. You will take this lovely young lady to the safe house where a doctor will be awaiting you. Sledge can no longer be trusted to carry out the mission. Off you go now, hurry please we have little time."

Surprised at the sudden change of plan, James hesitated for a moment. Helping Anna to her feet, James led the pregnant Nun down the passageway. Sitting in a palpable and tense silence while Robert threw on a dark brown monk habit they heard a car pulling out of the gravel driveway.

Slowly, almost ceremoniously Robert placed the mask of Orcus over his face, tying it securely from behind with a length of cord.

Placing the Go-Pro facing toward him on a shelf, Robert stared into the camera.

"Smith, turn on the computer. You two get out your 'phones. You may have the privilege of watching me avenge all the voiceless

victims."

Streaming live on various media sites, and Newsflashes was the latest episode in a series of horrific murders.

Already millions of viewers clicked onto internet sites or watched on their T.V screens.

"I am Orcus. Today I will personally take great pleasure in dispensing divine retribution. Walk with me, if you dare!" Robert's metallic voice lingered in the ears of millions as he set off through the dense undergrowth along the river bank.

Chapter 31

"What a bloody idiot, does he think that the police won't be watching the ceremony? They will put a bullet in his head the moment he shows up in his ridiculous outfit." Sledge smirked.

"What was that Sledge?" Drawing back, Piper stared icily at Sledge.

"That is my brother you are talking about. Did it never occur to you that you had been set up? How did we manage to stumble through the recent events? It was sure as hell not through your investigating skills." She spat.

Smith raised his weapon, unsure of what was happening.

"Really Sledge. You saw me down at the river, where moments before Connelly was killed. You saw me watching the police vehicle in town as you were driven into the station. I was the one who suggested investigating the church and we bumped into Father Smith." She smiled at Smith. Standing upright Piper slapped Sledge across the face.

"Blood is thicker than water, Sledge. Robert was abused, suffered in silence for years but then he opened up to me. We worked together on avenging the victims abused by the clergy. You have absolutely no idea what we went through and the old, painful wounds it opened up. Down at the lake when you were drugged, did you not even wonder how it happened? Who slipped what into your food and drink when there was no-one else around except you and me? I am sorry to say this, but you are a complete idiot, and when Robert takes out the two priests, the police will find your body with the mask of Orcus on your face." Screaming now Piper spat the words at Sledge.

"Smith is right to say that Robert is a great man, that Robert is making a difference because he has the moral obligation and the courage to attack the abusers head on. They care not one bit for the innocent children. They only have one thing on their minds, and that is instant sexual gratification, by any means. Seriously, what normal man shuts himself off from physical contact with another human being?" Piper turned to face Smith.

"Did Robert tell you about the monk habit in the room?" Confused for a second Smith hesitated.

"Um, there is a spare set in the cupboard in the main bedroom. What do you need it for?" He still kept Piper at arm's length, waving the weapon between her and Sledge.

"It is for the final part of the plan. Robert is going to kill the priests and then come back here. We will arrange an accident to happen to Sledge and then dress his body in the monk habit, and Orcus mask. After that, it's away to the islands where we will let things blow over and you, Robert and I will take a sightseeing holiday around the Vatican. Imaging Orcus being in the very heart of the beast? Our followers would be in the millions. Do you think that the Pope does not know what happens? He is up to his neck in guilt either covering up for his mates or simply by the usual act of transferring known paedophiles from one parish to the next. What happens when a priest is caught skimming money from the donation boxes or embezzling the church?" She asked Smith.

"I don't know for sure, but I have heard that the priests would be charged and punished to the full extent of the law. They would be handed over the police and charged and then go to jail." He shrugged his shoulders. Still keeping his weapon trained on Sledge, Smith looked over at Piper as she moved over to the drink's cabinet.

"Scotch on the rocks?" Piper asked Smith.

"Yes please, a double if you don't mind." He smiled noticing that Piper had not offered Sledge a drink.

"And what happens to a priest accused of molesting young boys or forcing themselves on underaged victims?" Raising her glass, Piper slid a double Scotch on the rocks over the short counter top to Smith. He caught the glass. Draining the drink in one gulp, Smith slammed the glass down on the counter.

Piper placed her still full glass down on the table.

"They are moved to another place. They are forced to take leave. Nothing concrete happens, the crime is dealt with by the church. The ones supposedly prosecuting the guilty are often found to be themselves even more guilty than those they are supposed to convict. There is the usual pay-out to victims, mostly settled out of court. Those responsible for sentencing the guilty are often at the same time working to cover up the scandals." Smith leant on the counter. He shook his head.

"I swore to defend my country. I fought and saw my mates die in wars. How does an institution have more say in what happens than someone who fought for their country?" He stared at the light creeping over the lake casting mirror images of the surrounding landscape on the still waters.

"They don't pay taxes, they don't adhere to the rules and laws of the land but my mates who fought, some are homeless. We must look after our own and not be bowed down by some out of touch idiot in the Vatican. Hell, until recently the Mass was said in Latin. Was that manipulation of the masses or what?" Smith slid his glass over to Piper.

Pouring another double, she looked over to where Sledge sat watching her and Smith. He looked extremely annoyed.

"Had Robert approached you directly, I doubt whether you would have taken to the idea. I was there to sugar-coat things up a bit Sledge. You were used and abused, and now you will pay the ultimate price for your stupidity." She laughed.

Sliding across the counter the glass of Scotch on the rocks, made a rasping sound. Smith held out his hand catching the drink. Piper smiled and winked at Smith.

"This is no good Piper. I have something very important to do. Direct instructions from your brother, Robert." Glancing briefly out of the window, Smith levelled the weapon at Sledge.

Chapter 32

Moving along the treeline, Robert muttered into the earpiece he wore attached to the Go-Pro.

"As I stalk my prey, the world will see justice in the making." His distorted voice message reached millions of viewers. Ratings for the Television channels hacked into and broadcasting the footage peaked. Website owners watched their audience grow beyond anything that they might have envisioned before.

"It is beyond me how the Pope blames the paedophile culture in the church as the work of Satan. How in the world does he expect us to take that as an excuse for the crimes committed by the clergy?" His breathing became more laboured as on the Go-Pro the viewers watched as he climbed a steep hill. Robert crashed through dense bush; sand-flies were crushed under the viewer's gaze as he swatted at the insects drawing blood on his exposed hands. Moving closer to the crest of a hill the camera zoomed in on a group congregating along the river bank.

In the distance, police lights flashed. Inspector Rees and his men took up a position close to the assembly. Rees scanned the people in the foreground, mostly devout Catholics and a few elderly ladies running around like mother hens fussing over the faithful. An Arch-Bishop and a Cardinal.

He scanned the middle ground. Press reporters mingled with a small number of civilians. People were wearing jeans and T-shirts. He looked at the logos printed on the T-shirts. Most of those gathering around had the image of Orcus emblazoned o-n their shirts.

"Damn bastard has become a bloody cult hero." Looking at Orcus's followers, Rees noticed how they all had their cell phones at the ready. A few videoed the gathering. There was an air of anticipation amongst Orcus's fans.

"Shits about to hit the fan, blokes! Those bloody vultures know things are about to go down." He set up a perimeter giving each of his men a sector to cover.

Hedging his bets again, Rees waved over the Quick Response Unit.

"Marksmen cover the hill and the river bank. If it all goes to hell, those of you close enough to cover the priests with your bodies." He tugged on his bulletproof vest.

Walking over to the murder site of Father Connelly, Rees pushed through the small crowd until he reached the Arch-Bishop.

"We are securing the area, Father. Please keep it short and sweet. You are in danger as you know." He spoke in an unusually quiet tone of voice, almost respectable.

He felt the Arch-Bishop's hand grip his own tightly. Smiling benevolently, the Arch-Bishop smiled addressing the Inspector.

"You may go with God, my child. Satan may have won a few battles, but he will not win the war. We do not need your protection, and I ask you, in the Lord's name to withdraw your men."

"Don't you realise that a nut-case out there is intent on killing you, I have had the sniffer dog's check the area for explosives. They might still be in the hills aiming a rifle at you right now!" It was beyond Rees that someone would willingly ignore a life-threatening situation.

"You heard my colleague, Inspector. We are in God's hands. Remove your men and please do not interfere with the memorial service." The Cardinal seemed almost annoyed as he addressed Rees.

"Go with God, my son." Staring into Rees's eyes, the Cardinal patted him on the head as if the Inspector was a choir-boy.

"As you wish, Father," Rees muttered.

Turning around, Rees set off toward his men moving into their positions. He felt resentment building up inside. His pace slackened. Clenching his fists, Rees stopped dead in his tracks.

Spinning around, Rees stormed up to the Cardinal.

"This is my case and my jurisdiction. The days of the church selecting when, or if they will obey the authorities and the law of the land are over. I am in charge here, not you."

Rees watched the Cardinal's demeanour turn from one of confidence to shock.

"Never have I been spoken to like this, Inspector. I will lodge a formal complaint once the ceremony is over."

"If you do, it will mean that you are still alive. I would have done my job as I should have, without interference. So, until then, do as I say!" Feeling better, Rees shouted orders to his men positioning the officers where he thought an attack might come from.

Lying flat on his stomach, Robert crawled forward. Raising his head slightly he peered over the edge of the hill. Down below, the ceremony began. In the centre, around the wooden cross where Father Connelly met his terrible death stood members of the congregation and the clergy.

Far outnumbering the people gathered in prayer were a motley collection of Orcus fans gathering like vultures awaiting a kill.

Focusing his attention on the police force members present, Robert smiled. They had no idea he was watching from his vantage point overlooking the entire section of the river and the people below.

"I truly have become an avenging angel, striking down the guilty from above." Adjusting the small video camera strapped to the rifle Robert zoomed in on the Cardinal.

Chapter 33

"Hang on a second Smith. I need another drink." Making her way to the edge of the counter Piper reached for the bottle. Smith looked back at her for an instant then switched his attention to Sledge.

"Sorry about this Sledge, you seem like a decent bloke. Nothing personal, I'm sure you understand. Looking down the barrel of the handgun Smith took up the slack in the trigger.

"And you want a murder on your conscious? Don't you think it will look bad on your resume when you eventually meet the big man upstairs?" Sledge looked around searching for a weapon of opportunity. A broom handle shoved into a throat would do the job as would a glass smashed into a deadly cutting tool. Any household object viewed in the right way could maim or kill in the right hands.

"What the hell do you know about me, you scumbag.? Does it ever occur to you to wonder what torment I live through every day?" Smith spat, shoving the weapon in Sledge's face. His finger itched on the trigger.

"More than a few of my brothers have chosen to end their lives through their own hand. The lying Press state that more of the blokes have topped themselves after the war than those killed in action, total bullshit. But still, I live with the memories. I still wish, no, I crave a woman's touch more than anything in the world. We, in the priesthood, are not without human emotions and feelings. I chose to become a priest, but at night when I close up the church, sit at an empty table, do you not think I would like company? I would love a woman I could devote my life to, children I would adore. The sound of their happy laughter would more than compensate for all the work we do in the community. I am a human being with feelings. I will never feel the warmth of a woman's touch again, never be allowed to have the privilege of sharing the love of a wife and children. Rather end things now, I go to my God, as a soldier. That is if I can quote a poem written by Rudyard Kipling about Afghanistan when we Brits first landed in- country a century or more ago. Delve deeply into the poem and reflect on why soldiers shot themselves if faced with capture. God damn it, why do our Army mates shoot themselves years later after having survived a total war. Does it mess with your head so badly that you cannot live a normal life after a war? I am too far gone for this civilian life." He slammed his fist into a cupboard.

"I wonder if the Catholic Church would be in the same predicament now if they had allowed women to be ordained as priests, or to allow priests to marry years ago? I am a good man, I fought for my country. I served the Lord as best I could, but I could not stand aside and watch while the depraved men in a position of power abused children. I go now to my God as a soldier, of Christ and as a soldier."

A sudden silence filled the room, as if they all understood Smith's point of view. Sledge looked down the barrel of a gun, Piper stood to the side. Smith scowled at both before him.

Glaring at Smith, Sledge looked straight into his eyes.

"Hey mate!" Piper called. Smith turned; Piper threw the boiling water straight into his face. Screaming in pain, Smith clutched at his face. For good measure, Piper slammed the plastic jug against the bridge of Smith's nose.

Raising his hand, Smith fired wildly around the room. Bounding upward, Sledge's shoulder slammed Smith sending him flying across the kitchen countertop. He hit the floor on the other side with a sickening thud.

"Oh, Sledge. I was only pretending. I didn't mean anything I said, honestly." Piper rushed to his side.

"You could have been a little less flirtatious with the bastard." He wrapped his arms around her.

"Jealous, are you?" Kissing Sledge on the cheek, Piper peeked over the countertop.

"Damn, where is Smith?" A door crashed shut somewhere in the spacious house. From an adjacent room, classical music drifted within earshot of Sledge and Piper.

Armed with a kitchen knife Sledge led the way into the movie room. A live stream of events at the ceremony was underway. A Cardinal could be seen speaking to the crowd gathered around the wooden cross with flowers and offerings at its base. Crosshairs from a rifle appeared on the enlarged image of the Cardinal. On the left-hand side of the screen, the numbers of viewers increased rapidly displayed with digital precision.

On the bottom right of the screen was a Dark Web site's address. People paid extraordinarily high prices to see images or video footage of the on-going drama which other did not get to see, or previously unreleased, extremely graphic footage of the atrocities committed in the name of vengeance. This proved to be a valuable source of income for Robert attracting the most depraved subscribers around the world.

"You know the area well Sledge. Where do you think Robert is hiding?"

"Let's have a look. Judging by the viewpoint, Robert has of the target he must be somewhere on the hill to the East overlooking the river. I have to get hold of Rees."

Down at the river, Rees watched the supporters filming the ceremony. His cell phone buzzed in his pocket. Orcus supporter moved closer to the area around the wooden cross. Rees reached into his pocket and switched off his phone. He didn't have time for distractions, any number of people in the immediate area could be a potential threat.

"Damn, he is not answering. We have to get there as fast as possible." Sledge walked through the hallway, then out of the back door. Helping Piper over a fence, they made their way through the bushes following an infrequently used path toward the river.

Chapter 34

Not the best place to take a shot at someone." Squinting into the sun shining directly into their eyes Sledge lay flat on the ground. His senses tingled. Something didn't add up.

"He must be close by, look at where the footage is being shot from. People watching this have seen the whole ceremony from this particular angle. Richard must be somewhere near us."

Holding out her cell phone for Sledge to see, Piper pointed to the screen.

"If you were to find yourself in Heaven suddenly. If the Almighty chose you, the viewer, our dedicated follower as an Avenging Angel, what would you do? You have lived a good life, you have fought for justice and the rights of humanity and especially the frail, the children and those abused and forced into the dark recess of self- abhorrence. This is no fault of their own, but the blame lies on those manipulating, coercing and abusing innocents. They deprive a child of their very lives, their future. What would you do if God instructed you to carry out justice?" Orcus's voice reverberated through the valley, almost drowning out the sermon. Supporters of Orcus turned up the volume of their cell phones in protest to the Cardinals speech.

"My dear friends, you have been chosen by God to Avenge the wrongs committed by perverted bastards. In your mind's eye, you see an innocent child molested by an adult. What fitting punishment would you administer if you were to administer justice in the afterlife? We are here in this world now, to see that the innocent children are avenged and to spread fear, the fear of retribution to those perpetrating unspeakable sexual acts on innocent children. I ask you again. What would you do?" There was no mistaking the voice, neither the setting seen through a rifle's telescopic sights.

Feeling his stomach muscles tighten, he breathed deeply. He heard a twig snap. They were close-, adrenaline rushed through his body. Lying motionless they searched the foliage to their left and right.

Down below, Sledge saw the Cardinal raising his hands as he blessed the faithful. Orcus supporters closed in, inch by inch videoing everything, all the while pressing against the police cordon. They screamed obscenities at the police, at the faithful and the Cardinal kneeling in prayer.

Police officers pushed back separating the two groups. The Cardinal, looking decidedly uncomfortable walked swiftly toward Inspector Rees.

Gunshots echoed through the valley. The faithful, along with the Orcus supporters dived for cover. Officers searched for the firing position over the sights of their rifles. People screamed in a panic expecting the bone splintering impact of a high-velocity rifle bullet to smash through their body.

It was too difficult to see if the assassin had hit his target. People scrambled all over the area. Police officers rushed to cover the Cardinal. Reporters streamed into the area with the hope of getting an exclusive view of the dying Cardinal.

Rushing across the ridgeline Sledge pushed ahead. Piper trailed behind looking at her cell phone.

"Sledge, wait! Go back a few steps." Holding her phone closer, Piper looked intently at the screen. Again, she called Sledge. This time there was more urgency in her voice.

"Go back the way you came. Trust me on this." Hesitating for a moment, Sledge retraced his steps.

"Wait, stop and go forward." Piper motioned with her hand.

"Stop. Don't move." Running over to where Sledge stood Piper pointed to her phone.

"This is live. What do you see here?" He turned after seeing their legs on the cell phone screen. Reaching down he picked up a Go-Pros in the bushes.

"It's a setup, whatever is going on down there is a distraction. The shooter is somewhere else."

"Oh, my God! Look over there." Jabbing her finger in the direction of someone further down the hill, Piper stared at a monk. Rifle held in one hand. The monk walked steadfastly down the hill. In the other hand, he clutched a set of golden scales.

"What the hell is he playing at? Does he think by carrying the scales of justice in one hand and a rifle in the other, that the police won't open fire on him?" Running his hand through his hair in frustration, Sledge stood up waving his arms frantically in the air.

"Hold your fire!" Sledge shouted down to the police. Running toward the monk, he thought that he might have a small chance of overpowering Orcus. Their fingers on the trigger of their assault rifles, the officers waited for Rees's order to open fire.

"Robert! Don't be a bloody fool. Don't throw your life away like this. Robert, please drop the gun!" Running blindly through bushes, Piper did not feel their sharp barbs ripping at her skin.

Orcus stopped suddenly. A deadly hush came over the people gathered down below, Orcus supporters and the faithful stood open-mouthed waiting to see what would transpire.

Orcus raised his rifle above his head firing into the air. Two shots echoed across the valley.

"Everyone down on the ground, take cover!" Rees screamed.

"Do you have him, Jenkins?" Inspector Rees shouted across riverbank to an officer lying prone on the ground.

"Affirmative Sir, ready to fire!" Jenkins took up the slack in the trigger. Taking a deep breath, Jenkins exhaled gently, the facemask of Orcus filled his sights. At this range, he knew he would not miss.

"Don't make me do it!" Rees felt his stomach tighten watching Orcus slowly lowering the rifle. Rees waited for the last second before ordering Jenkins to open fire. Out of the corner of his eye, Rees saw two figures rushing headlong down the hill toward the monk. Orcus dropped as if poleaxed. The two figures reached the body seconds later. Turning to check on the Cardinal and Arch-Bishop staring wide-eyed out of the window of his vehicle Rees breathed a sigh of relief.

The vast majority of the spectators still hugged the ground or remained hidden behind rocks. It would be easier to get the clergymen out of the danger zone while the crowd was still in shock and stayed motionless.

Piper ran in a blind panic toward the body lying crumpled in the dirt. Her agonising sobs torn at Sledge's heart. Had he been quicker then possibly he could have prevented the shooting. Reaching down Sledge placed his hand gently on the body, blood seeped from a jagged exit wound on the upper back.

"Why Robert, why do this and throw away your life!" Piper dropped to her knees.

"Maybe he is not dead. There are Para-Medics down below. There must be something we can do for him!" Attempting to turn the body over Piper tugged on the blood smeared monk habit Orcus wore.

"Let me turn him over Piper, I'm hoping there is still a sign of life." Looking at the amount of blood staining the sand Sledge admitted to himself that there was no hope.

The metallic stench of blood permeated the air along with the smell of cordite from the spent bullets. Piper struggled with the intensely conflicting feelings raging within her.

"There must have been some other way of bringing this to a non-lethal ending. Why did they have to shoot Robert?" She knew they had no choice but, at this moment could not bring herself to acknowledge it.

Taking hold of one shoulder, Sledge gently turned the body over. Piper buried her head in her hands at the sight of the neat hole seeping blood near the heart area.

"Let me take off the mask, my love. Robert is my brother. I need to do this." Dropping her cell phone which was still streaming the events live beside the body, Piper braced herself. She reached down and gently brushed the hood back slightly before taking hold of the mask in trembling fingers.

Sledge eyed the rifle lying in the sand a few feet away. He knew better than to reach out for the rifle when the police marksman would be watching their every move through a high-powered telescopic sight attached to his rifle.

Kneeling beside Piper, he placed his hand on her shoulder. Slowly Piper lifted the mask, an elasticated strap which kept the mask attached stretched taught then slipped upwards off of the dead man's head.

"What the hell!" Piper screamed in shock at the lifeless eyes staring blankly toward the heavens. Feverishly she pulled back the hood, threw the mask to the side near her cell phone.

"Holy shit. Smith sacrificed his life for Robert to make his escape." Sledge gazed at the blisters rubbed raw from the mask on Smith's face where Piper had scalded him with boiling water.

"We have to warn Rees. It's not over!" Pointing to Pipers discarded phone lying next to the body, Sledge got to his feet. Piper jumped up waving toward the policemen down below.

With a heavy heart, Rees watched Piper and Sledge bending over the body. He would allow them a minute or two before sending his men up the hill to retrieve the body. Alarm bells went off in his mind seeing Sledge and Piper spring to their feet waving wildly again. They shouted something, but Inspector Rees could not hear them.

Two shots rang out in quick succession. Fear spread its icy tentacles through Rees's body. Snapping round the Inspector stared at the window of his vehicle. Two bullet holes appeared directly in line with the heads of the Cardinal and the Arch-Bishop. Both clergymen fell sideways across the seat.

Chapter 35

"The shots came from over there, somewhere near the ridgeline on the other side of the river. Piper, we have to do something, Robert isn't going to stop. Look at all the people down there. What if he decides to start shooting up the crowd?" Down below the crowd started to panic. Orcus followers and the faithful alike ran for cover trampling over fallen people lying on the ground.

"Inspector, the bloke up on the hill has picked up the rifle. Do I take him out?" Jenkins shouted over the cries of panic.

"Wait one Jenkins!" Looking through his binoculars, Rees watched Sledge checking the rifle's magazine to see how many rounds were left. Sledge seemed to be looking at something Piper held in her hand.

Sledge lay prone on the ground scanning the opposite hill through the scope on the rifle.

"Watch him, watch him real close but don't fire under any circumstance until I give the word. Understood Jenkins?" Rees felt a calm detachment. Under intense pressure, he functioned as he had been trained to do so. Orders were issued to his men. Rees placed the sharpshooters facing the opposite hill. Para-Medics tended to the people hurt in the panicked movement of the crowd. Journalists holding up Press cards expecting privileged access to the fate of the two clergymen were firmly pushed aside. For the moment Inspector Rees was in his element. He took control of the situation.

Looking left and right across the river, Sledge instinctively put himself in Robert's position. Sledge looked through clumps of bushes, not as raw recruits do, looking only at the bushes. He saw no-one. One may see a bunch of bushes and move on, look deeper, look for the irregularities hidden in the deeper recesses of the cover chosen by a sniper.

"Something over there, I saw a movement in that clump of bushes." Holding his arm outstretched he pointed. Piper drew close to Sledge looking down his outstretched arm.

"I see it too, my love. I can see something or someone on the ground under the bush, hidden deep within." Her voice cracked a little. She held onto his shoulder dreading what might happen next.

Felling his heart pounding in his chest Sledge sighted the rifle on the clump of bushes. For a fleeting second, he realised that the rifle sight had not been set for him. Perhaps Smith fired slightly to the left or too far up compared to his aim. It might be a millimetre off when shooting a target, but at this distance, it would mean a miss or a kill shot.

"What do I do babe? He is my friend, but more importantly, Robert is your brother." He noticed the bush moving slightly. There was little to no wind.

"I am looking at my cell, in the background someone is extolling the virtues of Orcus and the fight in which he is involved. Police marksmen have killed one of his followers. There is the usual pay to play credit card things. Millions of dollars are pouring in. Orcus is in the line of fire."

"I love Robert so very much, but in my heart, I cannot be part of all these killings. Do what you must, my love." She lay with her head on her arm, face down. Tears ran down her face.

"What are they saying on the web site, Piper?" Sledge breathed deeply aiming at the shadow under the brush.

"I don't know. You have to spend around two million U.S to access the inner circle. Something is going on. They have someone in the crosshairs of the picture. Bloody hell Sledge, Rees is in the live stream. Robert is going to kill him!" Piper cried.

Instinctively Sledge turned looking through the scope at the crowd below. He sorted through the mix of civilians and police officers until he focused on Rees.

"Sir, that bloke is pointing the rifle in our direction. Possibly at you. Open up on him?" His finger was squeezing the trigger Jenkins aimed at Sledge.

"Stand by Jenkins. Don't fire, yet." Standing upright, Rees felt a sudden rush of adrenaline. Mounds of paperwork, hours spent filling reports vanished in a millisecond. No man truly lives until the moment he stares death in the face. Standing tall, Rees waited. Images of a roulette table flickered in his mind followed by movie scenes where people played Russian Roulette with a revolver.t

For a moment he mentally calculated the odds when playing Russian Roulette with a revolver. One of six chambers held a live round. You had one out of six chances of dying. Orcus or Sledge had automatic rifles, chances of getting hit, one hundred per cent. Not very good odds, even for a gambling man.

Journalists focused on Rees, standing in the face of almost certain death like an ancient warrior laying down his life for his comrades in the heat of battle.

Cameras flashed, a bullet shot past. Rees felt the breath knocked out of his body. The impact of the round was unbelievable. Losing consciousness, Rees dropped to the ground, clawing at the moist river sand.

Sledge drew a deep breath watching Rees drop to the ground. Instinctively turning the rifle to the direction of the threat, Sledge fired a snapshot, to keep the enemy occupied.

Piper cried out. She burst into tears clutching Sledge on the shoulder. Zeroing in on the hidden figure, Sledge aimed.

"A damn Mexican standoff again." Flittered thorough his mind. Through his scope, he saw Robert aiming at him. For what seemed an eternity, Sledge looked through the crosshairs of the scope at Roberts' face. It was a duel, as in days of old. Robert looked at Sledge. His face filled the scope. Sledge felt as if he were a few feet away and he could reach out and touch Richard.

Piper held her breath. She loved both men, one as a brother. The other was her lover, her soul mate.

Sledge lifted the rifle close to Piper's face. She took a peek into the scope. Robert smiled. A whip crack snapped over their heads chipping at a rock inches from her face. Blood trickled down the wound on Piper's cheek caused by the rock fragments. He snuggled into position for the next shot.

Sledge gripped the rifle in firm hands. Robert smiled again, aiming. Childhood memories flashed through Sledge's mind. He adjusted his sights.

Subconsciously he took into consideration the wind speed, the drop of the shot. Squeezing the trigger, Sledge took in the slack. He had Robert in his sights. His heart beat furiously. Aiming his shot better than ever before, Sledge waited a millisecond before the rifle cracked. In his minds-eye Sledge saw innocent children abused sexually, he saw priests subjected to unimaginable torture. He felt the recoil, smelt the cordite. Felt Piper slam her hand on his shoulder then burst into tears.

"You bastard, how could you kill my brother!" Piper tore at Sledge, hammering her fists against his face.

Inspector Rees slowly regained consciousness. His fellow officers crowded around pointing to the neat hole close to Rees's heart in the bulletproof vest.

"Lucky bastard, Sir." Jenkins shook his head.

"How are you feeling, Sir?" Rees groggily got to his feet. Adrenaline coupled with relief rushed through him.

Inspector Rees screamed at his men. Forming a perimeter around the vehicle, they stood bravely upright. As if in the days of Wellington and Napoleon, New Zealand's finest, stood tall expecting a bullet. They hoped like hell that Orcus would hit them in the chest protected by their bulletproof vests and not in the head or groin. Unlike in the movies where the bad guy shoots thirty bullets, all in the bulletproof vest at the good guy and no bullet travels upwards in the recoil to the head.

Forming a human shield, the police officers surrounded the vehicle. "Get the hell out of here now!" Rees commanded. Ambulances followed the police vehicle out of the river bed.

Orcus followers mingled with the faithful. Both groups compared the video footage captured on their phones, shared e-mails and followed each other on Facebook and Twitter.

Sledge lay in the dirt, his face pressed against a rock. Piper cried, slamming her fist into his back. Helicopters swirled overhead in the distance. Sledge grabbed Piper by the arm.

"Come with me, my love." Standing upright, Sledge held his rifle up high. Throwing the gun down in a grand gesture he waited for a second. No-one fired on the police line fired at them.

Rushing down the hill, he felt exhilarated. Piper followed closely behind. Panting and out of breath from the uphill climb once they had crossed the river they reached Robert's firing position. Staring at the broken rifle, Piper looked at Sledge uncomprehendingly.

"I fired one bullet directly at Robert, not at him exactly." Bending down, Sledge picked up the discarded rifle.

"I aimed carefully, very carefully. I missed Robert's head intentionally. I hit the stock of his rifle, enough to make him abandon any plans of shooting you or I and for that matter anyone else down below." He waved his hand toward the crowd surrounding the memorial area.

"And here comes the bloody circus!" Sledge spat. Dozens of journalists rushed toward their position on the hilltop. Camera operators waded through knee-deep water jostling for point position. Reporters ran ahead unburdened, it was a race for the first exclusive coverage.

Overhead a helicopter hovered low enough to scatter dirt and dust into Sledge and Piper's eyes.

"Look at that bloody idiot Piper." Sledge tugged on Piper's sleeve.

"I hope the bastard falls, Sledge," Piper muttered watching a reporter lean out of the 'chopper door to zoom in on them with a camera then order the pilot to hover across the river to where Smith's body lay contorted in the dirt.

"Not again, get down babe. This one is coming in very close." Sledge held onto Piper shielding her from the rotor wash. The clatter of the helicopter filled their ears. Sledge subconsciously felt his heart quicken when he smelt the helicopter fuel.

Two figures dropped from the helicopter skids onto the rough terrain of the hilltop. Sledge looked up as the 'chopper lifted off in a swirl of dust.

"I am sorry for interrupting your romantic cuddle, but we have work to do. Where is that Orcus, son of a bitch?" Sledge stared up at Rees in his blue combat fatigues.

Jenkins, dressed in the black of the Quick Reaction Force held his rifle at the ready, finger on the trigger.

"Bloody good shot, mate!" Jenkins looked at the rifle with the shattered stock and then across to the opposite hill.

"Thanks, mate. Is that the new S.R 98 rifle you have been issued with now?" Looking at Jenkins rifle, Sledge reached out to touch it.

"Yeah, bro. Outstanding accuracy and easy to work with." Jenkins held out the rifle for Sledge to inspect. They were professionals sharing a passion for weapons.

"I heard that you were in the Foreign Legion, what was the pay like?" Jenkins nodded at Sledge.

"Damn good if you were on operations, okay if you were back at base." Sledge replied.

"It's the brotherhood that is the most important, blokes from all four corners of the world fighting together for the Legion. The Legion and nothing else."

"Jenkins, Sledge is a suspect. May I remind you that you are in uniform and on duty. Keep those bloody vultures at bay." Rees ordered sharply.

"Oh, boys and their toys." Piper shook her head.

"Did you get a look at the shooter Sledge?" Turning to face Sledge, Rees asked taking hold of the shattered rifle.

Piper slipped her hand in Sledges. He felt a slight pressure as she squeezed.

Lightly applying pressure on Piper's hand in turn, Sledge looked over in the opposite direction to which Richard had fled, clutching his shoulder.

Taking Sledge's hint into consideration, Piper turned her head for an instant in the direction Sledge had looked.

"No Inspector, I don't know where he went." She saw Rees glance at the heavily wooded terrain.

"The shooter wore a mask, that sad clown like thing. I didn't get a look at his face. I took a shot and hit his rifle stock by mistake."

"A bloody big mistake mate." Rees scowled.

"You might not be as good as they say, Sledge." Rees waited for a counter attack. None was forthcoming. Sledge looked down at the ground. He knew he must not divulge what happened.

"Don't leave town, as they say in the movies. I will be interviewing both of you later. Now get the hell out of here." Three helicopters flared in dropping Armed Offenders Squad members onto the position. Moving out they secured the area keeping the press at a distance.

"Two Alpha, sitrep," Rees spoke into his radio.

"Subjects boarding the aircraft at this time. Nothing else to report. Over." Two Alpha replied.

"That's a positive, out." Rees visibly relaxed, a smile almost crept over his face.

He had succeeded in getting the Cardinal and the Arch Bishop safely to the airport.

"Bloody press are crowding in. Permission to throw tear gas Inspector?" Holding a tear gas grenade, Jenkins smiled mischievously.

"That's a negative Jenkins. Take note on which way the wind is blowing before throwing that damn grenade."

Jenkins felt the wind blowing in their direction. He carefully replaced the pin in the flying mechanism of the grenade spoon.

"You two head down to the side road over there. A taxi will pick you up. As I said, don't leave town." Pointing to the lower part of the village below Rees seemed in a hurry to get Sledge and Piper out of the area.

"Hey Rees, what religion are you?' Piper asked as they stood to leave.

"Catholic, why do you ask?" Not expecting the question Rees stammered.

"Nothing, just asking." Piper smiled setting off through the brush toward the dirt road below.

Chapter 36

Inspector Rees stood proudly as a representative from the Vatican pinned a metal onto his chest. In the newspapers, the brave Inspector stood tall, awaiting the bullet fired by a crazed fanatic appeared on the front pages around the world. His anguished moments as the shot hit his vest and Rees tumbled to the ground shielding the Cardinal with his body. Sacrifice above and beyond the call of duty. Rees was a hero. He stared back into the cameras.

"Eat my shorts, big city cops." He smiled at the cameras.

"Do you think that Rees still suspects us Sledge?' Piper asked throwing another log into the fire.

The snow settled outside creating a white blanket. It was almost as if Mother Nature lay a clear sheet of finalisation over the recent events. Outside the steamed-up window, Sledge and Piper watched the snow fall. Their log cabin beside the frigid waters of the lake was a haven of warmth and happiness.

"Old Rees wasn't too thorough with his interview. Do you think that he kept us out of the limelight because of his pride or was there something else, something more sinister Piper?" Mixing up another batch of Gluhwein, Sledge added a sprinkle of cinnamon.

"I don't know my love. Let's put all of that behind us now. We have our whole lives ahead of us. I know Robert is alive. I have you. Moving on with our lives is the right thing to do." Piper watched the sparks drifting up the chimney.

"Do you mind if we watch a chick flick tonight?" Piper switched channels on the T.V screen.

"No, my love, you are right my love." He laughed hugging her close. The diamond engagement ring on Piper's finger sparkled in the light of the fire.

"This is a good one Sledge it's so romantic." He grinned wondering what the Rugby score being broadcast live on another channel was.

The screen blacked out for a second or two. In the background, excited voices could be heard asking what was causing the interruption of the regular programme.

"It would seem that many of you admired my work. I must perform my duty, my calling. No matter the cost, sacred retribution will be carried out. I, Orcus will lead the Legion of the damned, the abused and the vengeful. The authorities have since taken minor steps in the right direction in combating child abuse. More powerful than ever, we are ready to strike once again. I implore you to see the following report through." Orcus droned on in his distorted metallic voice. In the background, over one hundred figures stood ready to carry out his orders, all wearing masks.

"Here we have a photograph of an innocent child. Her name is Mary. An unknown man outside her home abducted her. People are looking at a photo of a three-year-old girl taken ten years ago on the side of milk cartons. We aged her photo, digitally. Mary looks like this now at the age of thirteen." A photo of a blond girl appeared on the screen.

"Oh, my God Sledge. He has started again." Piper buried her head in Sledge's shoulder.

"Our people, working with certain members of the Police and public discovered where Mary was being held, prisoner. Take a look at the ecstatic reaction of her parents when we dropped Mary off at her home after ten long years in captivity."

Viewers watched a couple who had never abandoned the search for their missing child weep with joy as Orcus ushered her safely back into their home.

"Call me a vigilante, call me a merciless killer if you will. I do not give a damn. My reward is to see the look on the faces of the parents and missing children when they are reunited. And as an even greater reward, when I deliver sacred retribution to the callous criminals committing the most despicable acts against those who are the most vulnerable in our society."

"Here we have the man responsible for Mary's abduction. The choice is yours, what shall the retribution be. Below are three fitting punishments. Your choice matters vote now!"

The end.

