Chapter Four—Rule Britannia

Less than forty-eight hours later, the Thorn's were on a plane on their way from Chicago to London.

Delia and Alexander had grown up with much, but Damien had taught them to also do for themselves. They would laugh when they would go over to other people's homes and their children were seemingly stymied by what to do when the door bell rang and their butler wasn't there to answer the door.

However, the one thing that Delia and Alexander had never done was to take a plane ride in any other plane except for one of the corporate or private jets. It took of all five minutes for both of them to tire of it...even first class was too crowded and noisy. They were used to having to share space on the plane with each other and Damien, but that was it. Delia had been tempted to ask the stewardess if there was another part of the plane where the extra important people sat because that's where she would like to be.

Eight and a half hours later, the plane landed at Heathrow Airport and Alexander and Delia could breathe once they got outside. Before leaving the States, they had exchanged some of the money from dollars to pounds and now sat outside a pub enjoying fish and chips.

On the way over, they had figured that since Paul was in England, he'd more likely be in one of two places, Felix or Oscar. Not wanting to waste time guessing where he was, they had first gone to Thorn headquarters in London to find out where Paul was staying. However, they soon discovered that no such places existed wherever they were and that Paul was staying in the Thorn suite in the Hyde Park Hotel. Once they were done eating, they would take a cab to see Paul to see if he could shed some light on what was wrong.

...666...

It was only two in the afternoon and Paul Buher was on his fourth brandy of the day...nobody had to tell him that wasn't good. He was sitting behind the desk, leaning back in the chair. There was a meeting with the Syrians and the Israelis scheduled for tomorrow that the current U.S. Ambassador to Great Britain was going to attend.

However, it wasn't the politics that was causing his increase in the consumption of alcohol. He would be visiting the boy today, and that always caused Paul to bend his elbow more than he normally did, not to mention chewing through half a bottle of antacid. He would take lunch here and then go visit the boy and then Paul would need more brandy to get over the visit.

The phone rang and Paul picked it up. "Hello?"

"There's a Delia and Alexander York to see you."

It was the front desk downstairs. "I don't know any Delia or Alexander York; tell them to leave."

There was a pause. "There's a Delia and Alexander York to see you."

"Are you deaf or stupid? I told you, I don't know any Delia or Alexander York."

There was another pause. "There's a Delia and Alexander York to see you."

Paul was about to tell the concierge that he would be fired, but there was something in the man's tone that made Paul stop. His voice was robotic and monotone...like he was under someone's influence. There was the boy, but he didn't drive and why would the concierge say that there were two people if it was the boy?

"Tell them I'll be ten minutes."

"Very good, Mr. Buher." The jovial tone had returned to the man's voice and he hung up the phone.

Whoever they were, they were already in the hotel, but Paul would not secede any more space to them by inviting them upstairs, so he would go to them, but in his own time...

When Paul arrived in the hotel lobby, ten minutes to the second, he didn't have to look around too long to find the two mysterious visitors, but they weren't what he was expecting.

First, they were young, maybe early twenties. Second, while Paul did not recognize them, something about them began to itch in his brain. The two of them looked back at Paul, not staring, but standing their ground. They understood the game that Paul was playing and would let him play it...for now.

Alexander had been looking around when Paul had come off the elevator and for anyone who wasn't Paul, it would have seemed as if he was just casually taking in his surroundings, but the boy had been observing, gathering information. He had turned to Paul with a small smile on his face; he knew something Paul didn't know and he liked that it gave him an advantage. Paul switched his attention to the girl.

Delia, Paul pegged them as siblings rather than husband and wife, had not been looking anywhere but at the elevator. Not because she wasn't interested in her surroundings; she had observed, made her assessment and was ready to move on to her next target, Paul.

The itch in Paul's brain became a voice telling him crazy talk, because he recognized them, not their looks, but their bearings. Paul closed his eyes, it wasn't possible, but when he opened them, he looked with his gut and he understood whose children they were.

Alexander. Tall, like his father, with the same blue eyes, though not as piercing blue as Damien's had been. Handsome in a classic way and a smile that had made women throw themselves at Damien's feet, plus the same nonchalance that had made women want him even more. Boyish charm combined with elegance, intelligence, and confidence that on anyone else would have been arrogance. That combination had made Damien Thorn one of the most desirable bachelors on the planet. The boy was more at ease than the girl, but only an idiot would have thought that that made him less dangerous.

Delia. Tall, though not as tall as her brother. Attractive, classic features like her brother and father but, unlike he brother, held herself with reserve, like Damien, whom Paul had often joked was so stiff sometimes, he must have been born with a pole up his ass. Men would not be as attracted to her as women were to Alexander and Damien, it just didn't work that way, and he wondered what she was like under different circumstances, but for right now, he recognized her demeanor because he had seen it dozens of times in Damien in board room meetings and confrontations. She was not tense, but on guard, waiting for the moment to hand her opponent enough rope with which to hang himself and the slight smile on her face suggesting that she'd enjoy that, as Damien had.

Paul Buher swallowed. Somehow, someway that defied all logic, he was staring at children of Damien Thorn.

Paul must have turned pale...paler than he already was because the next thing he knew, Alexander was at his elbow.

"Don't have a heart attack." He lead Paul back to the elevator.

The elevator operator pressed the button to take the trio up to the Thorn suite. It was a quiet ride up as everything that needed to be said, needed to be said in private.

Once inside the suite, Paul headed straight for the alcohol and poured himself a straight whiskey; he downed that in one gulp. He poured another one, took a sip and gripped the glass as tight as he dared. He turned and faced them. "How is this possible?"

"All things are possible in God, Paul."

Alexander smiled at him...then Paul realized that Alexander was making a joke.

"We don't know how this happened. Two mornings ago, we were at one of the plants doing a walk-through for Damien then there was an accident and we ended up here."

Paul turned to Delia. She was watching and it was like having two Damiens. Alexander, the charming one, keeping you off balance with his easy going manner; Delia, the jackal, waiting to pounce when you fucked up, like good cop bad cop...well, really just bad cop and even worse cop.

Alexander was smiling; like his father, not much got past him. "We just want to make sure that you tell us the truth, but perhaps Delia can take it down a notch?" He looked over at his sister.

Delia smiled and relaxed somewhat. "Yes, we are Damien's children. We used York because we thought that name might mean something to you?"

But Paul only shrugged.

"Gene and Karen York from Virginia?"

But Paul merely shook his head again, but then he turned to Alexander. "Wait, you said you were doing a walk-through for Damien...Damien's alive?"

Alexander explained everything starting with the how the birth of the nazarene had been a lie and how they had invaded Damien's head and made him believe that the Second Coming had happened. He told Paul how Satan had intervened and made his son understand that it was all a deception. He told him of the plan to have the York's adopt Delia, and how Delia would have carried inside of her the embryo of Alexander who would then be implanted in Karen. Delia would eventually be revealed to be the daughter of Damien Thorn and thus heir to the most powerful corporation on the face of the Earth. Delia would run Thorn Industries, Alexander would eventually become President of the United States and only those in Damien's inner circle would have known that Delia and Alexander were in fact related by blood and that Alexander was Damien's true son and heir. He told Paul that here, too, the nazarene had not been born.

Paul felt like he had been kicked in the teeth. They had to be wrong. The Christ had been born, Damien had said so. DeCarlo had gone with one of his priests and had verified the birth. And then there were the dreams...

"You have to be mistaken."

"Whom are you doubting, Paul, us or them?" Alexander took the drink that Delia had made for him.

"A lie?"

Alexander looked at his sister. Neither could understand his reticence to accept the truth.

"I've been having...dreams."

"What kind of dreams?" Delia took a sip of her own drink.

"Nightmares, really, destruction, devastation. There's the prophecy...are you aware of the situation here?"

"The world on the brink of being blown to tiny bits? Vaguely. Wait, are you saying that you're a part of this?" Alexander now gave Paul his undivided attention.

"More than a part of it, right smack dab in the middle of it. The current U.S. Ambassador, Philip Brennan, is under my control. I'm trying to manipulate things in our favor."

"You're trying to manipulate nuclear devastation in our favor? Please tell me how that works. And what prophecy?" Delia joined her brother in giving Paul all her attention.

"Not devastation, destruction, the nuclear fall out would be managed. Luke 21..." but Paul had stopped talking as he observed the Thorn's.

Delia and Alexander looked at each other and they understood. They were here to stop whatever all this was.

"Well, we're in charge now and whatever is going on comes to a halt, immediately."

"It's not as simple as that." Paul squirmed under Alexander's unyielding gaze.

"I'm making it that simple, Paul."

Alexander moved towards him and for one tiny second it was as if Damien had come back from the dead and joy took hold of Paul's heart and despite the somber tone of the conversation, he gave the boy a broad smile. "You are your father's son."

Alexander was briefly taken aback, but smiled at him. "Thank-you."

Paul moved to the window and looked out. "It's not so easy because...Damien has a son here."

"What's wrong with him?"

Paul turned to Alexander.

"If you were anyone else but you, you would have turned cartwheels when you realized who I was, so I can't help wondering why you're so happy when Damien's son is alive and well."

"Alive, yes. As for well...you don't look like your father, not really, but once I knew who were his son, I could...see it, if that makes any sense. But you're like him where it counts: confident, smart...I don't mean to ignore you...may I call you Delia?"

"It's my name and it's okay."

Delia smiled at him and he could see Damien's charm there, too. "And you have more of a sense of humor than Damien had."

"Oh, well, that was Damien at the tender young age of thirty-one and having no children. You need a sense of humor when you have children, but certainly you must have learned that from your brother?" Alexander took another drink.

"My brother didn't have any children."

"No Anna?" Delia looked at Paul.

Paul shrugged. "He didn't have any children, but Anna was..."

"...your grandmother's name." Delia smiled.

Alexander handed Paul another drink and he drank half of it before he told the Thorn's the story of how he had been devastated to learn of Damien's death, but he had received a phone call from a doctor here in England who had informed him that Kate was pregnant and how she had died giving birth to the boy. Paul told them how happy he had been knowing that the son would take over for the father.

But the boy would never have the life that Damien had, for there was the Christ to worry about. No going to school, no having friends, no birthday parties, no girlfriends, no vacations, no fun outside of the grounds on which he lived. Damien's son would have to live in seclusion and his existence kept a secret until he could come out of hiding...whenever that would be. The boy had a tutor, George, who had been Damien's manservant when Damien was Ambassador, and George looked after him. They did the best they could for the boy, but it wasn't the same.

"You keep calling him Damien's son or the boy. What's his name?"

Paul inhaled and then loudly exhaled. "He doesn't have one."

"Come again."

Paul turned to Delia. "Nobody was sure what to call him. In the beginning, nobody wanted to call him Damien and then once he turned twelve, he didn't want a name."

"So he has no name?"

"Correct."

"Paul, what is he?"

Paul looked at Alexander. "Nobody is sure. Yes, he's Damien's son, but...you don't look like Damien and you're unlike him in many ways, but I knew it was you...you carry yourself like Damien did." Paul closed his eyes. "He is the spit of Damien, I mean the spit. I knew your father from the age of twelve and the boy is now seventeen and he looks exactly like Damien did at that age. But he lacks his father's charm and, well, everything that made Damien, Damien. Whether he's Damien's son, or Damien reborn or some kind of combination of the two..." Paul shrugged.

But a heavy silence hung in the air and Delia and Alexander didn't have to be empathic to know that there was something more that Paul wanted to say.

"What is it your not telling us?" Delia raised an eyebrow at Paul.

Paul looked between the siblings. "May I ask a question that might prove to be indecorous?"

"Go for it." Alexander nodded at Paul.

"How were you both born?"

"I don't understand." Delia frowned.

"You mentioned something about having Alexander's embryo inside you?"

"Yes, but that's not what happened. I was conceived first, then Alexander and for nine months were both were in Kate's womb and she had a cesarean and then was killed. We were born on christmas day...you have to know how much that pleased Damien."

"I'll bet." Paul smiled thinly.

"So far we haven't got to anything improper, so I'm confused," Alexander chimed in.

"His was an...unusual conception and birth."

"How so?"

Paul didn't know how to continue and Alexander came over to him. "We don't have time for this; we're here for a reason and the sooner we start getting to the bottom of it, before the world gets blown to little pieces, the better."

"It was clear from his conception that Kate and Damien engaged in...unusual sexual activity."

"Unusual how?"

"In where the boy was conceived in Kate's body." Paul looked at Delia and quickly looked away, as if her presence was preventing him from coming right out and telling Alexander what had happened.

But Alexander smiled; Alexander, who at the age of thirteen had accidentally seen what had transpired that night Damien had had sex with Kate and had made both him and his sister.

"Are you trying to say, or not say, as the case may be, that the, let's call it, non-heteronormative sexual activity that Damien engaged in with Kate resulted in a child being conceived in her rectum?"

Paul was the color of newly fallen snow at this point, but nodded his head in agreement.

Delia and Alexander looked at each other...they would discuss this at a later point.

"Where is he?" Alexander continued.

"Pereford House."

"Where?"

"Where Damien lived while he was Ambassador to Great Britain."

"Um, here's an interesting question. Why didn't Damien live in Winfield House in Regent's Park?"

"Where?"

"The official residence of the American Ambassador to Great Britain." Delia felt like she was lecturing to a third grader.

"Pereford House belongs to the Thorn's."

"Well, I can own a house in Washington DC that goes back four generations, but when I become President, I live in the White House...it doesn't matter." Alexander shook his head in frustration.

"Where are the daggers?" Delia looked at Paul; she was all business again.

"I know where one is. The others..."

"You're going to find them and keep them for us."

"Also, you will not tell him what we told you about the nazarene not being born. When the time is right, we will tell him. Where is Pereford House?" Alexander grabbed paper and a pen from Paul's desk.

Paul gave Alexander the location of the house. "There's a gate, and security cameras around the back of the house."

"None of which is a problem for us. Can you get him out of the house?" Alexander looked at Paul.

Paul thought about it. "Sometimes, in his more boyish moods, he asks me to take him to the movies."

"Perfect. The day after tomorrow is Saturday. Make a day of it...lunch, movie, ice-cream afterwards. Have this George person out of the house as well."

"No problem. Why?"

"Because something is rotten in the state of Denmark, Paul and it appears to be coming from the direction of Pereford House. Don't tell him that you're looking for the daggers, either," Delia warned.

Alexander could feel the apprehension coming from Paul, but he smiled at him and it seemed to put Paul at ease. "Just get him out of the house, we'll do the rest. I'd ask you to come to where we're staying to let us know how everything went, but we haven't found a room yet, our suitcases are downstairs."

Paul put up his hand, went to the desk, picked up the phone and called The Savoy and told them that the Thorn Corporation suite would be being used by friends of his and what ever they wanted was the go on the Thorn account.

"Now you have a place to stay. Do you have a car?"

"Not yet."

Paul picked up the phone again and called to the Thorn Corporationgarage and told them to immediately bring a car over to The Savoy. Paul started to request a driver, but a quick wave of Alexander's hand made Paul belay the order. He hung up. "If you need anything else, just let me know."

"Will do. Otherwise, come and see us Sunday morning and let us know how everything went." Alexander extended his hand and Paul took it. "And thanks for the place to stay."

"No problem, glad I can help." Paul shook Delia's hand as well.

"Good-bye, Paul, we'll see you Sunday."

The pair made their way downstairs and waited not more than twenty minutes until a Thorn Corporation car pulled up in front of the hotel. Their suitcases were loaded in and Alexander began the drive to The Savoy and as the car pulled away from the hotel, both Thorn siblings could still feel Paul's disappointment at their departure.