wore, as long as it wasn't a visible vest, would make much difference to Kern. 'Can we find another robe on such short notice?'
'No problem.' Jim had his cell phone out and began arranging it before the words were out of Mark's mouth.
Jessie moved from the chair to sit beside him on the sofa, resting her hand on his knee. 'Listen, I know this whole thing has you spooked, but we won't let anything happen to you.'
'I guess I'm not doing as good a job as I thought of hiding my fear.' He chuckled as he twisted and untwisted the cap of his water bottle.
'Jeez, Mark, you have a good reason to be spooked. I know if I dreamed my own death by the hands of that monster, I'd be a basket-case.'
Mark shrugged. 'I just want it over.'
'By tomorrow, it will be.' Jim put his phone in his pocket, and grinned. 'It's all arranged. Don't worry, Mark. I got my best guys on this. Kern is on a lot of wanted lists, and now we finally know when and where he'll be, thanks to you.'
Mark paced the small office of the warehouse. He'd been sequestered since shortly after their meeting in his loft. Jim had wanted to beat the crowd so he wouldn't have to walk a gauntlet to enter the building. The office led out to the back of the altar, so he'd never have to go through the crowd. Mingling with the crowd was his second biggest fear. Kern, at least, was a known danger, but the crowd, even if they meant well, terrified him almost as much as Kern and his gun.
He'd been wired with a small ear piece. He wouldn't need a microphone hidden on him. With his cell, and a plainclothed cop right outside the door, he was safe enough for now. Now, it was a matter of waiting. He padded from wall to wall, absently rubbing his shoulder. He'd worn the sling for most of the day, but had chosen to remove it for the revival. The tight quarters reminded him of his cell, and the fact that he couldn't leave, added to the impression of being a captive. Rationally, he knew he wasn't, but the feeling wasn't rational.
Sounds filtered to him from within the warehouse. Jim expected several hundred people to turn out, and had chairs set up for that many. His estimates came from what they could see of the crowd in the photos and from what Mark recalled from the dream, but they had mere snapshots of the event.
He paused his pacing long enough to cock his head and listen. It sounded like a lot more than a few hundred people out there. His stomach did a backflip. Why had he agreed to this? Mark pulled out the notes from his speech, but after staring at them, crumpled them and tossed them into a wastebasket. He was a terrible speechwriter. He'd be better off winging it.
There was a short, hard knock on the door, and Jim entered. 'We have standing room only. In fact, we had to turn some folks away at the door, and they weren't too happy about it.'
'How many is 'standing room only'?'
Jim shrugged. 'Our permit allows for only a thousand people, so once the count hit that, we had turn folks away from getting inside, but a bunch decided that just being near the building would be better than nothing. They're hoping to hear your words of wisdom through the open doors.'
Mark groaned. 'I feel like such a fraud. I don't get why you can't just arrest him as soon as he shows up.'
'You're not a fraud. Besides, remember the goal. Convicting the bastard. You can claim he was the one, but there's no physcial evidence of Kern being present, and he'll get a dozen people from his group to put him somewhere else the evening you were abducted. Even if we arrest him, it'll get tossed out for lack of evidence. We need some kind of admission. As soon as Kern takes the bait and comes on stage. I'm hoping he'll slip about what happened before.'
'Should I say anything about it? Try to incite him?' As much as he hated the idea of seeing the man again, getting a chance to confront Kern might be just what he needed to do.
Jim helped himself to a bottle of juice from a table full of refreshments Lily had sent over. She'd wanted to participate, but Jim didn't want any non-law enforcement, and with her red hair, she would be easy to recognize as Mark's business partner. She hadn't been thrilled with being regulated to providing the snacks.
Jim tilted the juice, draining the small bottle, then tossed in the trash. 'It depends how you do it. I think if you outright accuse him, he's going to clam up. It might be better to play it quiet until we hear what he has to say.' He glanced at his watch. 'Okay, I guess it's time for us to hit the stage.' He pulled a length of rope out from beneath his robe. 'Sorry about this, but we have to make it look real.'
'Yeah, I know.' A wave of shivering overtook him. He tried to still it, but it was beyond his control.
Jim must have seen him shudder because he circled in front of him. 'Mark, look at me.'
Mark raised his gaze.
'We're not going to let anything bad happen to you. This is not going to be like before, understand? Do you trust me?'
Swallowing hard, Mark tried to quell the waves of shivering. Did he trust Jim? A year ago, he'd have laughed at the notion. Tonight, he nodded and put his hands behind his back. 'Do what you have to do.'
Jim tied the rope around Mark's wrists, and Mark took a deep breath.
'I didn't tie it too tight, did I? How about your shoulder?'
The rope pinched, but Mark could live with it. 'It's fine.' The discomfort was the least of his worries.
As they entered the short hallway behind the stage, three of Jim's men flanked him. Mark wondered if they'd fool anyone. He thought they looked like FBI, but maybe it was just because he knew their real identities. Their clothing was thrift store bargain basket. One had a shaved head, the other two had long hair.
Bright lights bathed the stage and Mark didn't have to fake it too much as he instinctively balked as his guards pulled him in front of the crowd.
Kern fought the urge to push to the front of the crowd. The old guy had done it. He had Taylor.
'Welcome to our gathering, gentle people. I'm Reverend Jim, and as I promised we have Mark Taylor here as our special guest.' He yanked at the struggling prisoner. 'He was feeling a little shy, so we had to persuade him to come.' Reverend Jim smiled. 'Don't worry though, we didn't have to use extreme measures, not like what happened to him last time.'
Kern scowled at the crowd around him, but no one seemed to notice. Their eyes were fixed on Taylor.
Reverend Jim pulled out a knife and Taylor's eyes grew huge, but all the reverend did was cut the binds. 'There you go, Mark. I hope you don't have any hard feelings towards me. I just knew once you were here, you'd be eager to speak to my flock. Or your flock. They are all ready to do your bidding.'
The crowd cheered their agreement. Taylor rubbed his wrists and glared at Reverend Jim as he was pushed closer to the podium.
'Come on, Mark. Share your wisdom with us. We are eager to learn from you.' The reverend turned to the crowd, making motions for them to shout their agreement. They complied, and Adrian tried to shut out the screech from the woman on his right. The dream, so vivid upon waking, had faded throughout the day and he tried to hang onto bits and pieces. He'd been so sure that he'd seen the future in the dream, but now it was out of focus.
With a final dark look aimed at the reverend, Taylor tilted the microphone and tapped it, testing the sound. 'I, uh, I don't know why I was brought here, and I doubt I have any wise words, but I'll tell you all this. I'm not some kind of savior, but then, I don't think any of you need a savior. Your savior is the person you see when you look in the mirror every morning. Every day is a new start. A day when you can choose to help someone or do nothing. What kind of choice will you make? Ask yourself that as you comb your hair or put on your make-up.'
Taylor orated from a makeshift stage, and a hush settled over the crowd. The guy was so goddamn believable. Adrian bit back a scowl at the 'amens' shouted when Taylor finished speaking. Reverend Jim led the chorus of 'amens, a grin stretched from ear to ear.
Adrian eyed the old man, disgusted at his unkempt appearance. Why did fanaticism go hand-in-hand with bad personal hygiene? Adrian smoothed his hand down the front of his suit. For today's event, he had carefully chosen
