BIA Ch. 89

Day Eleven

“This is just a residential area.”

Isaiah muttered, looking at the houses lined up along the street.

“It is a residential area, so?”

Manny said, changing lanes, as if it were obvious.

“You came here for Aunt Angelina’s funeral.”

“……”

Isaiah didn’t reply. He just stared out the window with a blank face, so Manny apologized on his own.

“Ah, sorry. I know, but I keep forgetting.”

As Isaiah ignored him and continued to look out the window, the church building began to appear in the distance. He thought it would be a small neighborhood church, but it wasn’t. Well, it was the church attended by the godfather of the Irish, so it couldn’t be a tiny building. If anything, this was a relief.

“The biggest building you see over there is the chapel.”

Manny said, parking the car at the church entrance. Isaiah unbuckled his seatbelt. As he was getting out of the passenger seat, Manny asked,

“Should I come pick you up?”

“No. I’ll get there on my own.”

Manny looked noticeably pleased. Of course. Today, Hailey and Grace had planned to drag Chester around all day, so Manny must have thought he would finally get to enjoy a proper day off. But then, out of the blue, he was ordered by Chester to come to the church with this guy. Chester, that bastard, said he was just making sure their hitman had no inconveniences on his preliminary reconnaissance, but in reality, it was to keep a close watch so he wouldn’t stray. It seemed that his paranoia, or whatever it was, wouldn’t be cured until he died. If he had a tracking app installed, he could just look at that, so why he was so obsessed was beyond him.

“Then, to Chester…”

Manny coughed awkwardly, looking hesitant.

“I’ll tell him you dropped me off.”

“Okay.”

“Just don’t mention my clothes.”

Manny then glanced at the Bran coat Isaiah was wearing. His eyes were saying, ‘Why the hell did you wear that?’

“I told you, this was the most presentable thing I had at home.”

Isaiah clicked his tongue. Even though it was the truth, anything related to Bran always sounded like an excuse.

“It’s a church, so I need to be as inconspicuous as possible.”

“Yeah, alright.”

Manny said with a blatantly displeased face. It was pissing him off. If he had known, he would have worn something else.

Isaiah slammed the passenger door shut hard enough to break it. Ignoring Manny’s shouts, he headed towards the chapel building alone. There was one entrance at the front, and there seemed to be another one at the back. The back entrance would probably be connected to the parking lot. He decided to use the back entrance when he left and went inside the building.

It wasn’t directly connected to the chapel, but there was a small lobby-like space. Like most churches, this St. Patrick’s Church seemed to have a youth service on Saturday afternoons. Thanks to the students and parents who remained chatting after the service, he could look around without arousing suspicion.

He thought the roof was a bit high when he saw it from the outside, and sure enough, there were stairs leading to the second floor at both ends of the lobby. Isaiah went up to the second floor using the left staircase. He could enter the second floor of the chapel directly without passing through any other space.

The second floor was smaller than he thought. There were pews, but there weren’t many rows, and the stepped layout made it seem like it was probably a space for the choir members. Indeed, there was an organ covered with a cloth and a music stand for the cantor or conductor in the corner.

Isaiah sat in the back row of the second-floor pews. The stepped layout meant that unless a two-meter-tall giant sat in front of him, his view wouldn’t be blocked. However, if the choir members took their places on the day, it might be difficult for ordinary parishioners to even enter the second floor.

He would have to ask Chester if the choir was present even during weekday services.

Isaiah began to organize the things he needed to check in his head.

And since the entrances on the first and second floors were the same… would they set up separate security on the day? It was an unwritten rule that no organization would be attacked during a major event, so there shouldn’t be any need to prepare for an attack.

If an escape route could be secured, it was a good sniper spot. First of all, the distance to the target was very close. Even if Chester and Cedric sat in the front row on the day, it wouldn’t be 100 yards from here. At this distance, he could hit them even with a standing shot, without a bipod, and even with his eyes closed. Moreover, there were large pillars on both sides, making it suitable for hiding. Since it was indoors, there would be less impact from temperature and weather changes. If there were no people on the day, and if an escape route was guaranteed, anyone could just stop by and shoot. There was no need for a professional sniper. The problem was that he couldn’t guarantee the escape route and the people.

This wouldn’t work.

Isaiah came to a clean conclusion. Even if it was a weekday service, a church of this size would have a fair number of attendees. And even if they didn’t attend the service, there would be people in the lobby, as he had seen earlier.

More than anything, he just felt like it. Even though he was a guy who had killed over a dozen Taliban in their holy place in Afghanistan, he didn’t want to kill someone inside a church. It was just something he didn’t want to do, even if he had no excuse for it. He hadn’t given it much thought when he heard about it, but being inside, he definitely felt uneasy.

The downstairs was a bit noisy, and soon a group of people approached the altar. They weren’t preparing for a service, but it seemed like the ministers were having a short prayer together before doing something.

Watching them, he couldn’t help but think of the past. No, in fact, he’d thought about it as soon as he entered the chapel. The ornate altar and the large cross, the decorated arched high ceilings and the colorful stained-glass windows, everything he saw brought back old memories.

It was strange. That religion, as he remembered it, wasn’t a proper Protestant one. They worshiped Yahweh God in the same way, but they taught doctrines based on their own interpretation of the Bible, practiced a spiritual communal life that was not common in general Christianity, and most of all, they took manna ^[1]and drugs on a daily basis. They swallowed refined pills that were processed to look like fine white frost, like pearls, as described in Numbers, and injected it in liquid form with a syringe, like the dew of the night, as described in Exodus.

Even though it was such a crazy cult, the church building itself was very normal. Whether it was to entice new believers or not, the chapel was quite reverently made. Just by looking at it, you could never tell it was a cult.

That’s why, no matter which church he went to, he thought of that place. Because there was no difference. Because they were the same. The same went for cathedrals. Cathedrals even had a crucified Jesus on the altar, unlike churches. He hated that so much when he was young. Before the drug wore off, he didn’t know how many times he had seen a vision of Jesus bleeding and coming towards him. He also had nightmares.

That’s why, even after going to John Bosco Orphanage, he refused to attend Mass for a while. He didn’t even get baptized, unlike the other children.

Then, when was it? It was a Mass he had to attend before Christmas, so it must have been the first Sunday of Advent. Yes, that must have been it. In Catholicism, that week is considered the beginning of a new year. He reluctantly attended the Mass, persuaded by the priest in charge that he should try to do better this year.

That was where he first saw Bran serving as an altar boy. Wearing a pure white surplice ^[2]and following the priest, he looked more reverent and sacred than the priest, or anyone else gathered there.

At first, he didn’t even know who he was. He just thought that his appearance in the white surplice was like an angel. He thought that the angel of salvation, who took on human form, mixed among people, and delivered God’s message to only the most virtuous one, must have looked like that. He wanted to see his face clearly, but he was too far away, and he was always looking down, so even in his young mind, he felt sorry.

Then, it was when the priest was leaving after the Mass. When the priest passed by him, whether it was a delusion or not, he made eye contact with the person following the priest, and that was when he finally realized. The angel he had been staring at in a daze throughout the Mass was the very man who had willingly taken the bug from his body not long ago.