Chapter IV

It was mid-morning at the cathedral in Aubagne, France.

DEEGAN STUDIED URIEL. It was an odd thing to come face to face with such a notorious, and mysterious Angel. Uriel was almost the middleman between the other side, and the Heavens. The gatekeeper, so to speak.

“I’m not sure how this whole thing came about,” Deegan said pensively.

This really was the craziest thing of all time. A bounty hunter from Hades, sent to Earth to help the Angels catch one of their own.

Uriel considered his words carefully. “Like you, Mr. Prost, I am a middle man in this strange affair.” He studied Deegan. “You come to us highly recommended.”

Deegan nodded slightly, still trying to figure out if this was some elaborate ruse set up to test him. “So, this Mavet . . . he’s been a rather slippery fish, eh?”

“He was one of us, you know. A higher Angel. To be honest,” Uriel squinted his wide, liquidy, green eyes. “It’s the most unexpected thing I’ve ever dealt with.”

“I guess you guys even make mistakes,” Deegan said as he exhaled slowly. This was already tiring.

“None of us can predict the future,” Uriel said offhanded, instantly regretting the choice of words.

“That’s funny. So, why was he here . . . on earth?” Deegan asked.

Uriel’s eyes darted back and forth, noticing several rows of candles burning under a crucifix that was off to his left. A choir of young boys were practicing various catholic songs in the main hall below. Uriel and

“The kind that even leaven cannot sit around and ignore,” Deegan gibed.

Deegan were in a small room near a balcony that overlooked the main hall.

He took a deep, troubled breath. “You know . . . there are times, down here, when the humans make mistakes. Grand mistakes.”

Uriel knew sarcasm when he heard it, but he didn’t bite. “We maintain a strict rule about meddling in the affairs of humans, while they are still evolving their souls, here on earth. Divine intervention is rare. You guys made it illegal. It violates the natural order you know.”

“But in this case . . .”

“It could not be ignored.” Uriel walked to the balcony and stared down at the children, laughing and giggling. “It’s for them,” he said as he pointed. “They are the future of this planet.”

“Roman Catholic children?” Deegan said skeptically.

Uriel waved the thought off with his hand, “No, Mr. Prost. All children. Muslims, Catholics, Christians, Jewish, Amish . . . all of them. Children, growing up and experiencing life. They are the future. They will evolve, spiritually. some of them will have already lived several lives, others are just beginning. but at some point, like you and the rest of the souls, they will be standing in the dark city of Purgatory, waiting to make the most important decision of their existence.”

“But you had problems with some religious leaders,” Deegan said. “Priests and such.”

“We had other reasons for sending Mavet down here. But, his job was satisfying two aims. End the problem that we were facing, and eradicate the religious leaders that were breaking the most holy trust in the universe. One shall never take advantage of an unevolved soul. The damage echoes for the rest of their lifetimes. It handicaps them spiritually. Then they are not able to make a logical, sound decision when they are left in Purg.”

“So you do toil in their affairs,” Deegan returned. “Call it what you want. You can paint it up to suit your ideas, rationalize it to make it more palpable. But you violate the manifest law of the universe. Neither you nor I are allowed to affect the evolving souls. Yet we both chose to do so.”

“It’s not so simple,” Uriel tried.

“Why isn’t it?” Deegan approached Uriel, standing taller than him by several inches. “Do you know why I chose Hades, instead of waiting for the Grace of God?”

Uriel searched Deegan’s eyes for any trace of humanity. And there was something there . . . a dim light that hadn’t been fueled in some time. Maybe it was warming a bit. “1 . . . 1 don’t know why anyone would choose instant gratification when it is saddled with eternal damnation.”

Deegan grinned, but it was hollow and sinister. “You have no idea. None of you do. You see, you may have fooled the populous into thinking that God will be victorious, but we both know that it is nothing more than propaganda.

We both know, as does all of Heaven and Hell, that the outcome of the Great Battle is not predetermined. There is no victor . . . not yet.”

“You have your ways, we have ours,” Uriel answered abruptly.

“Yeah,” Deegan whispered condescendingly. “But we are accused of evil and atrocity, crime and pestilence. Don’t we all lie a bit, both Heaven and hell?”

“I don’t wish to discuss politics, Mr. Deegan.”

“Fine, then,” Deegan said with a nod. “I will need money to move around. I will also need weapons and intelligence.”

“How do you plan to hunt Mavet?”

Deegan leaned forward, his hands at the balcony’s rail. “I will put myself in his shoes, as they say. I will do what I think Mavet would do.”

He turned to Uriel. “And you will give me information on his most recent activities?”

“All we can give you is the basic location,” Uriel said as he steepled his hands in front of his chest. “Beyond that, you will just have to . . . to do whatever it is you do. Have you,” Uriel paused and cleared his throat. “Have you ever hunted an angel before?”

Deegan nodded, still looking down on the choir. The smell of incense was powerful. At first it had been nice. Now it was becoming nauseating.

“And were you successful?” Uriel said delicately.

“

Uriel was taken back, repulsed. “Oh my God.” Suddenly, Uriel was quite certain that this was the right man for the job, and at the same time . . . an enormous mistake. “You hunted the three Angels that were impaled on the Spears?”

“There were four, actually. But, as you know, one of them seemed to elude his captors.” Deegan shrugged. “But then, you know all about the forth Angel. Seems he was quite busy, lately.”

That was another matter that Uriel did not wish to delve into. He realized that Deegan was a monster. A predator like no other. He had been the one who had hunted and captured the three Angels that Cael Lucien had slain outside the gates of Hades. The news of it had reached the earth realm, but it had been buried and dismissed as nonsense and prophetic misinterpretation.

The Vatican knew about the Three Angels. It was just another one of the many things they decided the world was not mature enough to learn of.

Uriel reached into his cloak and produced a small, black card. He handed it to Deegan. “It is a credit card that will work at any money machine on this planet. It has a magnetic strip on the back and all you have to do is swipe—”

“I know how to use a bloody credit card.” Deegan studied the front and back of the small black card. “What’s the number?”

“Six, six, six . . . I thought it would be appropriate.”

Deegan grinned slightly. “That’s funny. Wrong, but funny.” He slipped the card into his pant pocket.

He then stood straight, and twisted his head from side to side, stretching. He turned to Uriel. “Is there anything else I need to know about Mavet?”

“What do you mean?”

“Let me be clear with you, Angel. I don’t work for you, or for Michael, or for Heaven. I work for Ren, and Lucifer above him. So If I find out that this is some kind of a scam, or that you knowingly withheld information from me that would have made my job easier . . .” Deegan cocked his head to the side.

“That would betray my trust. And that would be a bad thing. I’ve butchered entire villages on a whim. Don’t play games with me.”

Uriel was quiet. “No . . . there is nothing.”

“Sure you don’t want to tell me what Mavet was really doing?”

“You already know,” Uriel answered.

“Well, be sure of this: I’ll find out. Come to my own conclusions. When I catch Mavet, I will have a nice long talk with him.”

Just then Uriel handed Deegan a small, silver crucifix with a tiny black stone in the middle. “When you find him, or need any help or assistance, press the black stone and hold if for a few seconds. We will send an Angel to assist you. Many, if need be.”

“Yeah, I bet you will.” Deegan took the crucifix and noticed a black string handing from it. It was a necklace. How quaint. This was like the Christian version of James Bond. “Dry martini . . . shaken but not stirred.”

Uriel didn’t even grin.

“Nothing?” Deegan said.

Uriel remained quiet.

“Fine,” Deegan said as he turned toward the hallway. “Where was the last contact?”

“Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.”

“Than why am I in Europe?”

“You can transport from any cathedral or church. Just enter the church and press upon the black stone on the crucifix. You will be transported to the nearest location to Mavet. It will only get you as close as the city, though . . . the rest is on your—”

Before he could finish the words, Deegan had pressed the crucifix, and was gone.

Uriel walked to the balcony, and gazed down on the children as they sang their strangely eerie songs. The shadows were long and manic, fits of light bouncing and waving.

“Forgive us for this, my Lord.”