ANGEL OF THE LORD NOVEL IN BLOG (PART 12)

Angel of The Lord Novel In Blog (Part 12)

Previously:

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Baste came barging into the room at the heels of the two other bumbling crime fighters. Sheaf of official documents in his hands, he shook his head in embarrassment when he saw his boss glare at them from the doorway to his inner office. The overweight rear guard down on his luck and on the floor held his bruised nape. He attempted to sit up but sagged to his left in a vain effort to get back on his feet.

“Pare, amoy beer kayo, don’t get close to the boss man he might detect the reek of the drink you had,” Baste pulled the two beefy operatives back. “Boss, sir, e medyo naging slapstick and pangyayari, the thing just blew out of hand.” Baste approached the newly hailed Deputy Director mournfully. The lifelong nemesis of crime, Marcos Tiongco nodded regrettably. The heady march to the capital flushed with merit awards upset the equilibrium of the men. Plus they were unused to the painstaking regimentation in an urban setting.

Mike felt the cold wall on his back and rested his weary head against it. The cell phone vibrated with a throbbing urgency in his left pocket. Its palpable connection to his real world made his present predicament all the more stark and misshapen. No way could he reach for it with his hands bound by the tight cuffs from behind. He just prayed that the whole thing will come to pass and he could go back to exploring the limits of his newly discovered wonderful world with Lassel. She served as the safety net, the punch bag to absorb his plunge to despondency after the crash and the burning spiral from his unrequited love gone bust for his high school mentor and martial arts guru, Marita Dalit.

What’s done can only be covered, twisted, improvised or cleaned up. That was the rule they applied to messy situations up in the hinterlands. It’s like staging a scene for the movies. You insert props here and there and coerce the characters to parrot lines you feed them and the whole scene falls in place according to the script. Up in the distant arenas higher from the sea level, the rules of evidence are most pliable. You can actually bend them to suit your ends or the bright side of crime statistics.

“Baste let’s get this mess cleaned up fast before all our careers get flushed down the toilet.. Carry down your dazed gladiator to the clinic for first aid, get your accounts settled in admin, and prepare your van for the long trip back to Cagayan”. I will report this brouhaha as a traffic altercation. We’ll let the driver off the hook for damaging government property, hit and run and resisting arrest if he will sign a waiver absolving the team of the physical injuries. This boy can walk if he signs a similar affidavit of desistance. Otherwise he’ll have to face charges of assaulting peace officers and spend two years attending court hearings before he even gets close to a favorable verdict. Eventually he will opt for a trade after the rigors wear him out.”

The Director hurried back inside his office to get the phone. Baste hoisted the left arm of the bent warrior on his shoulder and led him out to the elevator. The two burly inebriated plainclothesmen left in the room couldn’t believe that the planned celebrations had taken such an ugly turn. The congratulatory whirl of performance bonuses, citations, handshakes, pats on the back, and most delectable of all, endless rounds of ice cold frothy beer danced elusively in their clouded visions. They turned to Mike and turned red with outrage at the role he played to abort their deserved plaudits.

“You know what we do with your likes back home? We erase them from the face of the earth. Zero, zilch, lost and never found.” One of them pulled Mike by the hair and slapped his head in disgust. “Why don’t you feel so mighty now, super hero,” the other tugged at Mike’s collar, pulled him up then shoved him back against the wall to bump his head. Mike knew better to crane his neck forward and let the upper bend of his shoulder take the impact. Mike’s evasive action incensed the thug to fly out of control and he started spitting on Mike below and kicking him on the left rib. Mike timed it and kicked his pivot foot while the attacking foot was hanging in the air. Poor guy plowed to the hard flooring.

“Putang ina ka talaga, you are a goner”, his upright sidekick pulled out his firearm to shoot Mike. “Wait pare, not like that, that’s too easy”, the fallen partner recovered quick enough to stop him. “He is super boy, I bet he can fly out of the window.” Both of them stared at each other with gleeful mischief. “C’mon let’s carry him to the penthouse and see how far he can dive without a cape.” They left without the comatose driver. They manhandled Mike who kicked and bit every step of the way to the elevator to the penthouse. Mike’s screams brought the cleaning lady running down the corridor. “Help call somebody, they plan to throw me out the window, call for help please’, Mike hollered desperately. She saw the two custodians had gone over the edge after they scowled at her with a malevolent eye. She stood there and watched helplessly as the elevator door closed.

The penthouse was accessible by a short winding stairway from the topmost floor. They dragged Mike bodily to bounce repeatedly against the cement steps. Mike snagged his feet on the edges to delay the ascent but their heave up proved stronger. They reached the open air balcony which was always deserted because of the steaming heat. The brown smog made the scorching glare from the sun seem eerie like. They ran pell-mell towards the ledge with Mike in tow. Mike prayed to his avowed Almighty Warrior God of Israel, “I thank my foes for they send me to meet You this day, Beloved Father”.

Richard knew he needed top clearance from the highest level. He is not supposed to treat satellites like personal toys to be used at whim. But there is no time for that now. Going out in the open air balcony was a big mistake. It left one like a sitting duck to all the star war death rays in the heavens. Besides after they vaporize, who the heck will know except the grateful boy. He pressed the laser button to zap with precise beams two running dots in the rooftop. Mike crashed like a wavy heap against the bottom of the ledge. The pair of devilish executioners disappeared in a plume of sparks and white smoke above him.

By Providence or coincidence, Richard dispensed karmic comeuppance to these inhuman transgressors to suffer the same ironic fate which they readily served their countless victims from his lofty perch in the chasm that bridged celestial and cyber space. Zero, zilch, gone without a trace.

With one smote of His Mighty Hand against evil, Mike knew deep in his heart the Warrior God of Israel had answered his prayer once again. Resoundingly to his face, just like that first time when he called on Him for justice as his nanny bled to death in his arms as a ten year old.


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