May 13, 2016

Chapter 2 - A Brief Summary of the Events

To understand what the Angels is all about, get to know the characters HERE and read the other chapters HERE:

___ CHAPTER 2 ___
A Brief Summary of the Events

"...what took her aback was the view of her mother, in tears, holding the Pope as if he was a common person and not the leader of the Catholic Church."
Art by Guillermo Costa

            Thirteen years ago – Selina Carmichael got into the first plane to the USA as soon as the news about her parents’ death, in a fire in their house in Maine, had arrived. By far the worst news she’s ever gotten in her thirty-three years of life.
              She asked Marcia, her adolescent daughter, to stay home in Italy. She would prefer her not to see her grandparents like that. That wasn’t the proper moment for Selina to leave Rome.  Less than two months before she had taken an important position as head researcher in the Vatican, substituting for a great friend of hers who needed to go back to        Portugal. However, moments like those weren’t ones someone could think twice.
          As she got to the remains of their old mansion she realized all her childhood memories had turned to ashes. There was nothing there able to explain what had happened in the hours that preceded their passing. All she could do was make sure they were buried at the family’s mausoleum in Evergreen Cemetery, as it was their will.

            “Miss Carmichael…”, said an obese man after the services, “I know it’s a very delicate moment, but I would like to talk to you about your parents’ last will. I represent Fieldings and son.”
               “You’re right, it’s not a good moment, but what choice do I have, right? I have to return to Rome by the end of the week.  Just give me a few minutes, would you?”
             As she found herself alone, the doctor in religion, known for her straight emotionless posture, burst into tears. She cried for what seemed like an eternity. As soon as she pulled herself together, a man handed her a handkerchief. The first thing she saw was the bouquet of roses he was holding. Red roses. Her mother’s favorite. She recognized the man from the newspapers: the millionaire Jeremiah Jones.
           “Miss Carmichael, my sincere condolences on your loss. I came to know your parents some years ago when I sponsored the explorations that led to the discovery of the Dead Sea’s manuscripts. They were really dear to me.”
                 “I appreciate that, Mr. Jones”, she said drying her eyes.
                 “If there’s something, anything, I could do for you, just let me know.”
              “Thank you, but there’s nothing. I was the one who could do something, but I didn’t. I couldn’t bear spending my life under my parents’ shadows when I decided to leave and make a living in Europe on my own. I couldn’t even say goodbye.”
             “See from the bright side. It was a terrible accident. Imagine if you were there…”,  he laid the flowers by the tombs, “But, tell me, did your parents tell you on what they had been working those last years?”
           “They were retired, as far as I know.”, she sighed, “They said they were planning to write their memories. Now that’s all I have… Memories.”
              “I see… And I’m really sorry.”
            As he left the mausoleum she felt uncomfortable about that man. Her body trembled. For what she could remember, her parents had never mentioned any kind of acquaintance with Jeremiah Jones; it was something she would sure keep in mind. In spite of it, he seemed to know them quite well. That was no food for thought at that moment. She had lawyers to deal with.
         As she suspected, since she was an only child, she became supreme heiress of her family’s possessions. Money, in the most. Other objects such as masterpieces, pieces of china and jewelry had been consumed by the fire and would soon become money, when the insurance was paid. Money… What a substitute! She was ready to go back home, at least.
          Selina found it strange to feel she was being observed or followed. In fact, it was more than a feeling. There were people watching over her, taking turns to do so, as if she was too naive to notice. She could only feel safe when she got to her seat in the airplane business class and relaxed a bit. Her mind turning like a mad rollercoaster.
            “Miss Carmichael?”, said a good-looking young man sitting by her side.
            “How can I help you?”
            “Are you Samuel and Marion’s daughter?”
            “Oh, gosh! Who are you?”
            “You don’t really know me. I’m Cristovão Santiago. I’m your father’s employee, or so I was. Please, don’t talk to me till we take off.”
           By saying that, he put on earphones and closed his eyes as if he slept. He was young and really handsome, about nineteen, twenty years old, with light brown hair and eyes. He remained silent for about half an hour after the plane took off, then he opened his eyes.
             “When we get in Rome”, he said, firmly, “we’ll get into a plane back to the USA.”
             “Back to the USA…?”
             “New York.”
             “You must be kidding! I’m going to call the attendant and…”
            “Good idea. Ask her to use the telephone, call Marcia and ask her to meet us in the airport with the luggage and personal documents.”
             “What’s going on?”
           “Maybe this will be better than my words”, he handed her a letter he took out of his jacket.
             It was addressed to her and the handwriting, she recognized as soon as she looked at it, as her father’s.  Cristovão looked at her and smiled, encouraging her to open the envelope.
           “Selina, my child”, started the letter, “there’s no much I could possibly say here for I fear this letter could meet another hand but yours. However, if you’re reading it now it means both your mother and I are no longer alive. Probably we were murdered by the Order of Nostradamus.  As said before, there’s no much I can say here. I just ask you to do whatever Cris tells you so…”
             “Cris?”, she looked at Cristovão, tearful.
             “That’s how they called me.”
        “Don’t underestimate this man’s youth”, the letter continued, “He’s a specialist in languages I met during a visit to Coimbra University, in Portugal. I trust him with all my heart and I believe you ought to do the same. Don’t ask anything now. Save your doubts for the proper moment. For your own and also my granddaughter’s good. Always in your heart, Samuel Carmichael.”
              Selina took a deep breath, the tears rolling down her face.
             “Please, let’s not talk about this here. Do as I say. Call Marcia and ask her to meet us at the airport with your most important belongings.”
              “What is the Order of Nostradamus?”
            “The people who followed you during your stay in the United States were part of it. Make the call.”
            She nodded. Selina took a long time to convince her daughter without any details. When the plane landed at the Leonardo Da Vinci airport, in Rome, they found Marcia. The girl was furious, holding a bag and surrounded by three suitcases. She was seventeen and, as her mother, she had beautiful black hair. Not so long, though. Her eyes, different from Selina’s green ones, were ocean blue. Her first thought when she saw her mother coming down the hall was to make a scene, but she held the impulse because of the gorgeous man coming along Selina.
             “That’s hot stuff…”, she muttered to herself while getting to her mother, “So, mom, here I am. Your own personal slave. What’s the big deal?”
               “We’re going to New York.”
              “You must be freaking kidding! New York?! That city stinks! What about your dream job up in Vatican?”
               “I’ll handle it. What about our documents?”
               “In the backpack.”
             Selina put a folder with some other papers and her passport inside her daughter’s bag. Marcia was very confused and a bit worried about her mother’s expression.
               “Hey, mom, is that a new boyfriend or what?”
              “I’m Cristovão Santiago”, said Cris before Selina could answer, “But you can call me Cris!”
                 “And you happen to be…?”
            “Your grandfather’s employee”, said Selina, going after a payphone, “I need to inform my resignation.”
             While Selina was busy, explaining to the Vatican her reasons for leaving, Marcia was busy analyzing Cris as if she could find in that man the answer for what was happening.
            “You don’t seem to be the kind of person grandpa would hire for the mansion works.”
             “I didn’t work in the mansion. I work in New York.”
             “As far as I know grandpa didn’t deal with business in New York.”
             “It proves you don’t know that far.”
             She didn’t get offended nor closed her mouth as he expected her to do.
             “I beg your pardon.”
              “Are you from Portugal? Your accent is just like my mother’s friend.”
         “Yes, I am”, he answered, kind of irritated, “I’m nineteen, I studied History at Columbia; my second degree, I shall say. Love reading, hate TV. I’m bad at sports… Is there anything else I could add to please you?”
              “Yeah…”, she smiled,  “Do you have girlfriend?”
              The conversation was interrupted by Selina, who was nervous.
              “Shall we?”
           “Damn it!”, Cris muttered, staring at three men, very well dressed, who were crossing the hall toward them.
            “Miss Carmichael”, said one of them, the blond German-type one, showing a FBI ID,    “Would you mind following us?”
              “Why should I do that?”
           “We got a phone call informing us your daughter had left the building you live in a suspicious attitude and that you’ve just called the Vatican to resign.”
              “How could you possibly know that?’
              “Selina”, said Cris, “They’re not FBI agents. They’re Jeremiah Jones’ men.”
              The blond one lifted his jacked so they could see he had a gun, hidden under it.
              “You, my boy, may be Samuel and Marion’s secret.”
            Scared by the vision of the gun, Marcia took her bag and, by impulse, she hit the man twice. Once on the face, another time on the hand, from which the gun fell making a slight sound as it hit the ground.
              “Run!”, Cris shouted pulling the blond guy against the others.
               They ran by the airport hall, leaving the suitcases behind. They got into the first cab they saw and, kind of breathless, Selina told the driver:
               “Via delle milizie, per favore.”
             The taxi went over Rome streets. The driver certainly noticed something wrong about his passengers since the younger of them was sobbing.
                 “What was that, mom?”
                 “I don’t know, honey.”
             “It’s the Order”, Cris was looking through the window, “They want to have you killed.”
                  “Have us killed, you mean.”
                  “Not me, Selina, you two. Nobody knew I existed till now. Where are we going?”
                  “My apartment!”
                  “I don’t think that’s safe.”
                  “Any better idea?”
                  “Have never been to Rome before.”
                 Nevertheless, before the car stopped according to Selina’s recommendation, they noticed a movement of people around a residential building, where firemen tried to put out the fire on the sixth floor.
               “Mom...”, Marcia cried even more, “Our home...”
               “Oh, my God...”
               “Qué faciamo?”, asked the driver, “No passing…”
           Selina looked from Cris to Marcia, not knowing what to say. There was only one place to go. In fact, the only place in the world she would feel safe.
                “Vaticano, per favore.”
Vatican City
The taxi left them in Saint Peter’s Piazza. Silently, they followed Selina, who talked to the guards in Italian and was not asked to stop at any moment while they entered the smallest country in the world. The Vatican was an amazing view for Cris. He would never imagine he would be at that place, the one he studied so much about. And he knew exactly where Selina was conducting them, since he had its maps memorized: the Pope’s office. 
The Pontiff had been warned about Selina’s arrival and, in person, opened the door to let them in, telling the guard by the door he wouldn’t like to be interrupted for any reason. He was quite an old man, dedicated to what he believed and to his church. If there weren’t protocols to be followed, in his opinion, any person could have direct access to him. He found it funny the fact people could talk to God every day but were unable to call the Pope. All in all, he knew what his role would be when he took charge of the Catholic community. And he knew he was doing his role when he conducted those people to his private office that afternoon.
             Marcia was amazed by its beauty, the richness of details in the vestibule and, when they got into the office, she was dazzled with the decoration and hid her desire to touch all the books on the shelf. However, what took her aback was the view of her mother, in tears, holding the Pope as if he was a common person and not the leader of the Catholic Church.
           “What happened, Selina? First they inform me you no longer work as our head researcher. I ask somebody to go after you in your apartment and they find it burning in flames. Then you appear here again, looking nothing like yourself. What is happening?”
         “My parents are dead, Your Holiness.”, she spoke, crying, “I think they were assassinated…”
                 “Assassinated? By whom?”
                 “For what reason, that’s the proper question.”, said Cris.
            The Pope looked at the young man with that Portuguese accent, trying to understand what he’s just said.
                 “And, what was the reason?”
              “They gave the Vatican the original Mary Magdalene’s gospels. First they sent a fake one, but, a short time later, they sent you the legitimate one with an apology letter.”
                “What?”, Selina was surprised by what had been said.
                “How do you know that, my dear?”, asked the Pope.
               “I was in the Carmichael’s close circle. Your Holiness, is of high importance we go back to America as fast and safe as we can. The Carmichaels’ killers want to kill Selina and her daughter.”
                “I believe I will not hear any explanation, will I?”, said the Pope turning to Selina.
                “I still don’t have any, Your Holiness”
                “Why don’t you stay here in Vatican? I can provide you safety and…”
                “Here’s no safe for us!”, Cris said.
             “What are you saying, my lad? The Vatican is the safest place in the world, our guards are…”
                 “I repeat, Your Holiness, it is not safe. Please, we need to go back to the US.”
Thinking of what to say in a so unusual situation like that, the Pope looked carefully at them. He knew Selina for such a long time not to see her as any type of impulsive woman. Besides, he knew her parents; they were working for redemption.
               “Tell me something, my lad”, he said, in a brisk pace, “Does it have any relation with the Angels initiative?”
             “Samuel told me something about it last time we talked. Who are they? I mean, those Angels.”
              “They aren’t. At least, not yet. Samuel and Marion were gone before the Angels could exist. That’s why we need to go back as soon as possible.”
                “Very well. I think I can do something about it”, the Pope took a deep breath, “But I hope to hear from you real soon.”
               The Pope then sat by his desk and made a few phone calls, speaking in a very soft and polite Italian. Some minutes later the Swiss Guard conducted the three of them to the heliport where His Holiness’ personal helicopter waited to take them to Florence, where a jet, paid by the Vatican, was responsible for a fast trip to Vancouver and from there to a small airport in the Westchester county. It took about four hours for the group to get to Manhattan under a thick rain. Selina and Marcia just realized they weren’t heading to a hotel when the taxi left them in front of a closed and dark corner shop, in SoHo.
                  “What the hell, mom?”, Marcia asked, kind of disturbed.
                   “Not a clue…”
                 “This, my dears, is an old bookshop your father bought and put under my name. Just a façade, of course, since, in fact, it does belong to you.”
                “My personal castle, who knew…”, Marcia stared at him, “Why under your name?”
           “As I told you, nobody knew me. And this place could not be related to the Carmichaels”, Cris opened it, “Welcome the De Angelis Ark!”
                Both women looked around, trying to find something comfortable about that place. It was dark, dusty, entrained by cobwebs, full of wooden pieces of furniture and books everywhere. Lots of it.
               “We haven’t been active for the past three years, we’ve been busy, you know.”, Cris was trying hard to cheer them up, “But maybe after cleaning it all we’ll be able to go back in business. How about that?”
              As none of the women said a single word, he led them to the second floor. All of a sudden, they felt hopeful again. At the moment Cris turned the lights on, they found themselves in a perfectly clean corridor, in a modern atmosphere. Selina looked around, fascinated. At her right, there was a hermetical chamber, designed to protect rare books and documents, the type Selina had only seen in the Vatican. This one was smaller, though. Beside the chamber, she could see a kind of a meeting place, with an oval table surrounded by twelve office chairs. There was a wide window with shades off just opposite from the door and the left and right side walls were covered with shelves and books.
             “We call it Research room”, explained Cris, “We have some computers coming next week and we’ll have them installed here. Oh, that’s the main office. Your father’s. Yours now.”
            On the other side of the corridor, she saw an office so light and modern that didn’t seem to belong to her father, since he loved old-fashioned furniture. She got closer and glanced inside. There was a picture of her family on her father’s table, beside a typing machine. An old Olivetti she gave him as a birthday gift. She sighed, holding the tears.
              “Mom… They have cameras all around!”
           Then she noticed a small room, just attached to the office, with twelve monitors showing inside and outside areas of the bookstore.
               “Cris, what, in the name of God, is happening in here?”
              “Well, that’s not all. We’ve got two other floors and roof access. On the third floor, right above us, we have the bedrooms. Eight, to be exact...”
               “What was my father doing at this place he couldn’t do at home?”
               Cris took them to the Research room and sat, followed by mother and daughter.
              “The bookshop was only a façade for your father to collect all the information he could about the Order of Nostradamus.”
                “’Bout what?!”, said Marcia, surprised.
                “My father mentioned this in his letter, Cris. What is this? This Order thing?”
            “The Order was created in 1527 by Michel de Notredame who, according to legends, made a deal with the devil. He would serve Satan in exchange for the gift of the prediction. He wanted to see the future. This Order counts with the most brilliant minds, and the least famous ones, of all times. They have established an objective and having spotlights over them wouldn’t definitely help. That’s why they couldn’t stand recruiting famous member as other Orders did, although there were lots of powerful people involved with them.”
               “And what was that objective?”
             “Guide the world towards a new order, that would be established by an only belief, an only money and an only and new leader: Lucifer. The devil, as people call him, wanted Michel to create the Order to bring his son, the antichrist, to Earth and it would be responsible to make him lord of shadows. It would change the world as we know it!”
                 Marcia shivered, holding her mother at the same moment.
             “Cris, I’m so sorry, but, in years of studies and intimacy in Vatican, I never read or heard anything about it.”
               “That’s a real secret society, Selina. Differently from so many self-denominated secret, like the Illuminati and the Masons, the Order of Nostradamus is really a secret society. And, except for a group of few people, thanks to your father, nobody knows anything about them. Only members are gifted with the truth.”
                  “And how did my parents know about it?”
                  Cris forced a smile.
                  “Wouldn’t you try a guess?”
              Selina sighed and stood up, dazzled with the facts. Her parents, for all she could understand, were part of an organization whose objective was to bring the antichrist to life. It couldn’t be true, it wasn’t true, she knew her parents quite well to…
               “Cris… That’s an absurd! First of all… Lucifer?! My parents didn’t believe this sort of stories!”
            “Your parents first knew about the Order in the 50s when they were in the expeditions that discovered the apocryphal books. The ones Vatican holds in a safe behind the city wall, because the knowledge they held could mean the end of most religions. Jeremiah Jones, the sponsor, wasn’t interested in those books though. Actually, only one book was important for him: Mary Magdalene’s Gospel.”
              “Because this book is where Magdalene tells the story of the holy artifacts, very coveted by Lucifer, she was guardian after Christ’s death. Without those artifacts it is impossible for the Order to perform the ceremony to recognize the chosen one. That’s the reason why the antichrist is not among us yet.’
                 “How is it related to my parents?’
             “They were famous then, but they didn’t have the financial respect they wished. That was something the Order could provide, since they worked for them. Your mother, a documents specialist, forged the Gospel they found by the Dead Sea. That was her masterpiece and was the one they gave to Vatican. The original one was taken to the Order.”
                   “I cannot believe my parents could do something as hateful as it.”
              “They did. However, they deeply regretted. It was so sincere of them that they fooled the Order, providing false leads about the local the artifacts could be found. Secretly, your mother destroyed the papyrus pages where Magdalene wrote in details how she divided and sent the artifacts to different places in the world. Besides, the original Gospel was sent to Vatican with an apology letter. Her and your father were the only ones who knew about all the truth, that’s why they weren’t killed right away, as it’s the Order’s common practice, they were only expelled from it. They knew where the objects were and if the Order paid close attention, sooner or later they would be led to them. About one year ago, your parents sent pieces of cryptographic information to five people they trusted to find and destroy the artifacts, giving each one a file about the Order. That was when your father found me, trusted me his journals and this place. We became really close although we hardly ever had the opportunity to talk in person; I can count on my fingers how many times he had been here. He told me to go after you in case he died and here we are. Pretty much it…”
                  “Wasn’t it an accident that killed my grandparents, mom?”
                   “Probably not, sweetie.”
                  “Well”, Cris got on his feet, “I’ll take Marcia to her bedroom while you have it.”, he took a blue book on a shelf and put on a table in front of her, “You parents’ journals. Here you’re going to find details I could never give. Good night.”
             Selina would never measure how long she spent reading those lines and it was already daylight when she noticed she didn’t sleep at all. She found out all the truth about her family and their anguish to feel responsible for the coming of Lucifer. They died before creating something that could restrain the Order to achieve their purposes. On the other hand, they left enough for anyone to continue their work. And that was what Selina would do.
                 At the end of the journal there was a letter to her, written by her mother. She read its content twice before bursting in tears. It was a farewell letter, with a final apology for being so absent from her life. After that, Selina was even more certain she would fight the Order of Nostradamus. Even if it was just to honor her parents’ names. She would go ahead with the plans to gather people who could face Lucifer, under the alias Angels.

                Cris didn’t have Samuel’s five friend’s names, but he knew they would contact De Angelis as soon as they accomplished what was demanded from them. They would be identified by a password, “I’d like to know something about Saramago’s new novel.”, which was to be repeated three times.
               While nothing happened, Selina put the bookshop back in business. At the same time, she used her money to keep the up floors in activity. If once studying was a pleasure, in the following years it became an obsession. Cris and Marcia were sharing that obsession and, even trying to hide it, they were in love with each other.
                That was the time the first Angels were recruited.
               The Greek Diana and the German Wagner were at a first basis hired to work at the bookshop as salespeople. Moreover, Selina had other plans in mind after researching about their lives; both of them came from good families and had IQs over the average. Wagner was tall and strong, with a red face and blond hair; at his country he used to be captain of a hockey team. Diana had curly black hair and her face covered with freckles; she had won several prizes as a gymnast and even represented Greece in the Olympics. It wasn’t long until the newcomers suspected something was going on upstairs. The certainty, though, came only when Diana took a strange phone call.
                     “Good evening. I’d like to know something about Saramago’s new novel.”
                    “Well, I don’t think we have a new novel…”
                    “I’d like to know something about Saramago’s new novel.”
                     “I heard. I’m going to consult my system. If you could please...”
                     “I’d like to know something about Saramago’s new novel.”
                     “Gee, ma’am, I’m not deaf! If you could please wait…”
                     Cris came closer.
                    “What’s the problem?”
                    “A woman would never stop asking about Saramago’s new novel”
               “I take it, Diana, thank you.”, He took the wireless phone out of her hand and sneaked upstairs.
                Diana looked at Wagner who shared the same feeling that something weird was definitely going on. She followed Cris upstairs silently; the door that usually was closed was left open. She heard something about an Order, an object named ‘Book of the Days’, South Africa and then she was discovered by Marcia.
              Selina, who knew they were illegal aliens in the USA, invited them to join the Angels in exchange to have their situations taken care by her. Diana and Wagner accepted immediately, especially when they knew what that was all about.  They were supposed to go to Africa, along with Selina, and meet a woman who held important information about the Book of the Days, one of the holy artifacts they were searching.
                 In South Africa, however, they had their meeting frustrated by Thomas Jones, son of Jeremiah, who became head of the JonesCo after his father’s death two weeks earlier. He inherited not only his father’s business but also his place at the Order. Rumor had he was directly responsible for his father’s car accident. According to her company staff, he was there for a business affair but Selina knew that was just an excuse for him to follow her team. How he did find out about her trip was a mystery she had no time to deal with since she was warned by Christine Khumalo, a local girl working as Thomas’s interpreter, that her employer had no intentions to allow Selina and the others to leave the country alive. Thanks to the girl’s help, the Angels could go back safely to the USA. So as not to die by Thomas Jones’ hands, Christine followed Selina in the trip and soon realized her life was going to change; she was an Angel then and had her name in the Order’s black list.

                  Christine, who learned to fight to survive in the orphanage she lived for over five years until she escaped, was happy to finally have a place to call home. A place she could use her abilities to do good things. And one of those good things was spying on Thomas Jones, who could lead her straight to the Order. However, after following the man to pier 86 in the middle of the night, she was discovered by one of Thomas’ bodyguards.
                “I knew we were going to meet again, Christine”, said Thomas when the girl was taken to him, “All I had to do was wait. And here you are.”
                 “Don’t think you can use me to bring the Angels to you.’
               “So that’s how you call yourselves? Angels? No, my dear, I don’t want to involve those people in this. What we have is personal! Nobody betrays me, got it? Nobody!”
             Christine had her hands and feet tied up with ropes by the bodyguards while Thomas talked to a man something she could not understand. He gave the man some money and then came closer to her. She was almost crying.
               “Nobody’s going to find your body. Although I doubt you have someone to claim it. You have no family, right?”
                 “Don’t do that! You will regret…”
                “I know no regrets, beautiful”, he then grabbed her face and kissed her on the lips, “Have a good trip!”
                “No, please! Don’t do that!”
             Christine was then thrown in the Hudson River. The dark water was cold as she floated, trying to get untied.
               “I would love to see how long you can resist before sinking, but I have no time. What I like most about killing someone like this is that the person always thinks it is easy to survive. All you have to do is float. And then the person starts to get tired, then exhausted, and then surrender… Goodbye, Christine”
                She saw him leaving, with his two bodyguards, while trying to keep her face out of the water. He was right, that was tiring. She had no way to survive. Actually, just a miracle could save her. She closed her eyes and let her body sink. She was going down really fast, which was funny, because every time she saw something like that in the movies it looked liked a body would take hours to reach the bottom. When she opened her eyes one more time, she saw someone swimming towards her. Her body was taken and the next thing she did was spitting water, laid safe while the boy who saved her was cutting the ropes.
                “You… You saved me… Who are you?”
                “I’m Victor Jones. Son of the man who tried to kill you.”
               Victor was accepted by the Angels under a shadow of doubt, but he soon showed he was not someone his father would be proud of. That was perfect for the team. Victor didn’t know much about his father’s connections although he knew all his family had was conquered thanks to obscure deals. Even his stepmother, Phoebe, was part of the so-called shadow’s world.

               Selina didn’t need to look for the Angels. They seemed to be destined to her. She wasn’t blind for the signs, even the slightest of them, like a British young man showing up in the bookshop demanding a meeting with her. William Mason was a cool geek, with glasses and stylish red hair; he had both lower arms covered with tattoos and claimed he had intercepted emails from Selina to her contacts: That was how he came to know about the Angels initiative. William offered his help as hacker and with his IQ level he would be the best choice to keep the safety of the information the group shared and taught Selina to codify the messages she sent. He found it very interesting what they were doing at De Angelis Arc and, although he said he was going to stay only for a few days, the British man ended up becoming part of Selina’s plans. The Mentor showed him her plans to have a technology lab up there and would like him to be responsible for that; he couldn’t help but calling his parents in Oxford to inform them he’d gotten a new job and had no intention to leave the U.S..

                Marcia, recently graduated in Medicine, and Cris got married some months before the team had their first encounter with one of the holy artifacts and the Order of Nostradamus itself.
            Janice Bergman, a school teacher, received the Book of the Days, Jesus Christ’s journals, from a dying Priest who, in a few words, explained what was happening and passed her his mission. Janice was shocked when, in the middle of her meeting with the Angels in Niagara Falls, they were surprised by the arrival of the Order and its terrible Reapers. The Angels were easily defeated by the Order, given their inexperience, and lost, besides the artifact, the lives of two members. Diana and Wagner toppled into the waters of Niagara, after the girl got stabbed by one of the hooded man.
           The death of two team members deeply affected Selina. The Angels’ mentor disappeared, spending her time in a refuge in Scotland, at a family’s close friend residence, while the other Angels were being trained martial arts. When she returned she was a different woman. She went more into subjects she had no previous knowledge, like occultism, and studied really hard helped by a unique teacher. Her role was to put an ending to the Order’s plans and she would do everything that was reachable to save humanity and stop Lucifer’s anger. Some people spend their own lives not knowing what their missions in life are; she knew hers.

                  Present days – Although really tired, Selina couldn’t rest. She stood up, tied her robe and looked herself on the mirror. She was still a beautiful woman but she looked tired.
She went past Cris and Marcia’s bedroom and heard her son-in-law snoring. It was the first time he slept in days. She hoped her daughter was doing the same.
Downstairs, at the monitors’ room, William was watching the twelve screens in front of him and typing his laptop at the same time. His glasses, a Ray-ban model, helped him to look cooler. A little bit chubby, it was true, but his red hair made an interesting contrast with his green eyes.
              “You haven’t sleep, have you?”, he said with his typical Oxford accent, barely looking at her.
                   “Who said I can? I’m worried about Victor and Christine!”
                “Well”, he looked at a Manhattan map on his laptop. A red point was moving in SoHo, very close to the shop location, “the GPS in the Halo tells me one of them is closer. Although I lost signal of the other one about an hour ago.”
                   “Why didn’t you tell me? They may be in danger!”
                  “I’m sure they would’ve require help, Selina, if that was the case.”, he looked at one of the monitors. Christine and Victor could be spotted walking up the street, “Ok. They’re all right!”
                 “Thank, goodness! I think it’s better to wake Cris and Marcia up, William. Then you all come to my office.”

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