Page 34 of Metatron
Watching him make plans was the sexiest thing. He let me join in on every meeting he had with the American army. At the same time, as we coordinated with them, we sent out feelers to Europe. They were coming around but had demands if they were to join a coalition.
Demands?
As expected, Italy refused to have anything to do with anyone involved since the pope had declared the angels and their message to be fake. The proclamation went viral and caused some of our United Kingdom talks to suddenly collapse.
“That false prophet is causing problems,” Tron declared, pacing the room we shared. Yes, shared because once we started screwing there seemed no point in fighting it. I saw no point in denying myself the pleasure of his company. The angel knew how to make my body sing hallelujah.
I lounged on his bed, naked and sated—for the moment. “When isn’t Astaroth causing issues?” I grumbled. It seemed the demon prince couldn’t stop getting in our way. I was just glad his plan to steal Atlantis failed. If we didn’t stop Hell on Earth, it would be up to the ark to ensure some remnants of humanity survived.
“Astaroth is annoying but not my current irritation. I’m talking about the charlatan claiming he’s the voice of God.”
“Wait, are you talking about the pope?”
“Yes. Blasphemer!” I’d rarely seen Tron so worked up.
“What are you going to do?”
He whirled on me. “I don’t know. But he has to be stopped. He’s splitting our ranks at a time when we cannot afford to be divided.”
“Killing him will only make him a martyr.”
“It would be quickest,” he grumbled.
“But not solve our problem. We need the pope to recant and declare your mission holy.”
“By taking him like I did the president.”
“Actually, that’s not a bad idea.” I tapped my chin.
“I thought kidnapping was bad.”
“In this case, though, talking won’t work, and it would be expedient. It’s not like you’re going to hurt him. You’re just going to give the pope an epiphany of faith. Beam in to see him. Take him to Zilla for a tour. Maybe fly him around.”
“He is more corpulent than you. It might not end well.”
“Dropping him would be bad,” I agreed.
“Then I shall endeavor not to.”
I cocked my head as Zilla suddenly spoke.
“The place the pope lives is blocked from my sight. I can’t beam into it either.”
A dead zone. It could happen apparently with some artifacts that used to be aboard the Atlantis but got scattered before the ark went to ground for a long nap. Not surprising the Vatican would have a holy relic.
“So he’ll have to fly in,” I muttered aloud.
“Are you taking to the ship again?” He arched a brow.
“Zilla says the area around the Vatican is a no-beam zone. We’ll have to wait for the pope to leave before you pop in to grab him.”
“Does he go out often?” he asked.
I waited for Zilla to answer and then repeated, “She says every other day.”
“I don’t know if I want to wait. The need to unite the world grows with each day as the commandments are ignored.”
“You can’t be seriously thinking of going in. Why not instead think of something to draw him out?”