If you are just starting out reading The Unexpected Exorcist, CLICK HERE for Episode 1.
<Episode 29 | Table of Contents | Episode 31>
New episodes every Tuesday and Thursday at 3 PM PDT!!
- Adam Lutzi Rockwell
“The Armored” - Lexington, Kentucky
Beelzebub walked right up to the guard stand at the secure facility with the bag strapped over his back. The place had no sign, no name anywhere. Just one big old armored car sat outside a large industrial warehouse. It was surrounded by chain link topped with razor wire. Only a few lights were on. The main entrance doors were shut.
The guard drowsed. Beelzebub already had Father Andersen’s Department of Homeland Security badge in hand and set it on the counter, waking the guard.
“Hello… Father Andersen. How can I help you? What time is it?” He looked at his watch.
“Six-thirty, guard. Let me in, I have an appointment.”
The guard took the badge and credentials and checked it against the list of names on his clipboard. Gave him the thumbs up.
“I’ll buzz the gate.” The guard wanted to get back to sleep. “You have a nice day. I don’t know why so many priests come and go from here… what are you doing, moving the Ark of the Covenant or something?”
“Or something,” said Beelzebub, already standing in front of the gate.
The guard pushed the button and Beelzebub entered the yard and walked toward the building. He had accessed Father Andersen’s memory completely. The priest had been to this exact building twelve times in the past two years. Beelzebub knew exactly where to go.
He stood at the entrance door to the main building and a camera turned on him. The second door to the armored car facility immediately buzzed him in.
Beelzebub was sickened. He hated humans. He hated being around them and in them.
He climbed a set of stairs and was on a low catwalk that looked over a cavernous building humming with activity. The name of the company was simply, “The Armored.” An armored truck-for-hire business with lots of government contracts. Their most important, being their DED contract. The Armored was paid handsomely for their services.
Men in navy blue coveralls worked away getting twelve different armored trucks ready for the daily pickups. It was a cacophony of workmen readying their battle vehicles.
The threat they posed to the demon army was high. Too high. Beelzebub didn’t realize how many drivers and workmen there would be. The layers of security. It didn’t deter him one bit.
Humans have caused nothing but trouble for our kind. They are our mortal enemy.
They haven’t done anything to you. They are just drivers!
Shut up, Priest!
Please I beg you!
Quiet!
A man with a clipboard approached him. Beelzebub held out his badge and credentials.
“Yeah, yeah, Father Andersen. I know who you are. You’re riding in the Sprinter today,” he pointed at a small, tall, black armored van. It had the look of a camper but was heavily armored. A Mercedes-Benz Armored Sprinter 350. “Tony’s driving. He’s been your driver before, correct?”
“Yes,” Beelzebub said. “Tony Frontado.”
“Yeah. Him.”
Beelzebub moved uncomfortably close to the floor manager. “Mr. Bally, I have something I need to speak with you about. It is quite important.”
“Certainly, follow me. We can speak in my office.
Mr. Bally’s office was basic. Green walls and some tack boards with various papers, timecards, and overtime rules. A big metal desk sat in the back of the room.
Mr. Bally sat down behind the desk and Beelzebub continued standing.
Beelzebub walked back to the door and shut it.
He turned and stared unblinkingly into Mr. Bally’s eyes. “As you know, Mr. Bally, I am on a mission of great importance to the United States. Correct?”
“Why yes, of course, Father.”
“I am going to need you to care for this bag until one of our agents can pick it up.”
“Care for it? As in store it here at The Armored? We don’t do that,” he said, but his curiosity was piqued.
“This is a highly classified request, Mr. Bally,” said Beelzebub, taking the big black duffel off his back and setting it on top of the messy desk.
“Well, alright I guess.” Mr. Bally knew who paid the bills around The Armored. “What do you want me to do with it?”
“It will be picked up by one of our agents. His name is… Uziel Axe. I need you to keep it in your office until he gets here. Only release it to him. Tell no one.”
“Did you say… Uziel Axe?”
“Yes.”
“That’s kind of a weird name. I have never met him.”
“He is new.”
“Oh, okay.”
Beelzebub knew he was taking a chance leaving the bag with Mr. Bally.
“If you could just put it out of sight, that would be most acceptable. And please, do not open it. Now, Mr. Bally, it looks as though I have a truck to catch.”
“Of course, yes.” Mr. Bally picked up the duffel and slid it under his desk. “Heavy! It’ll be safe in here. I’ll keep the door locked.”
“Very good.”
Mr. Bally examined his clipboard. “Truck number twenty-seven.”
“Bless you,” said Beelzebub. He stood and walked out the door, shutting it behind him.
Accessing Father Andersen’s memories was suddenly difficult. Father Andersen was fighting him from within. Again!
Keep to yourself, Priest, or I will personally drag you to Hell.
Don’t hurt them, please!
I shall do as I please.
Father Andersen was attempting to dislodge Beelzebub from within.
Beelzebub knew it would be impossible to be exorcised from within, but Beelzebub was concerned, nonetheless.
Stop, don’t do this!
Father Andersen had watched, with horror, the delivery of the bomb to The Armored. He was friends with many of the drivers and Kevin Bally. Demons had never been so bold. Not at any time in history.
Beelzebub walked erratically towards truck number twenty-seven. His face twitched as Father Andersen fought him.
“Shut up!” he yelled to himself. “Stop that, or face the consequences!”
A few of the workers looked at him side-eyed. Weirdo priests…
Father Andersen shook Beelzebub from the inside.
Beelzebub sat on a metal barrel and confronted his inner demon. “Keep quiet and be still, you priest scum, or I will kill everyone you know.”
Beelzebub gave him a brief glimpse of Hell. He took him there. Just for a moment, and then back. The worst two seconds of his life. He had always been taught at The Vatican that a breath in Hell was the same as days on earth. They were not wrong.
He let go. He stopped fighting.
Good.
“Good boy,” said Beelzebub. “Good boy.”
Beelzebub stood back up and made his way over to Tony Frontado. Tony was an Italian American, thirty-five years old, in a black uniform with a gold badge. “Hey, Father Andersen. Long time no see!” They shook hands. “Let’s get out of here before traffic wakes up.”
“Hello, Tony. Yes. Let us go.”
“Been working on your English, eh?”
“Indeed.”
“Cool, man. Come on,” he unlocked the passenger side of the truck and opened the door. “Hopefully nothing too exciting like last time!”
“Yes, let us hope.” Beelzebub could not help but to laugh.
The Mercedes-Benz Armored Sprinter was compact for an armored car. Tony called it Sprinty. It was the only armored Sprinter Van that they had.
All the other trucks were big boxy units meant to haul a lot of cash and change. Not Sprinty. It had been bought with the sole purpose of supporting the work of the DHS. Of course, they never knew they were transporting actual demons.
“Okay, man. Let’s roll,” said Tony after hopping in. “The pickup’s at nine. We'll be there on time. No problemo.”
“Perfect.”
Tony radioed into dispatch, “Truck twenty-seven ready to rock-and-roll.”
“Roger that, opening front doors. Have a good day guys.”
“Roger, over and… out!’
The big windowless garage doors opened. Tony hit the gas. He liked to drive fast, and he loved driving Sprinty.
They pulled up to the front gate and the guard tipped his baseball cap and hit the button that opened the outer fenced gate.
They were on the freeway a few minutes later. Not many cars were on the interstate, but it was beginning to pick up.
“How many we getting today?” asked Tony.
“Only nine.”
“Nine? What are you talking about?”
“What are you talking about?”
“How many donuts are we picking up? You’re the one who always needs them.”
“I understand you now. One dozen,” said Beelzebub.
“Cool, man.”
“May I borrow your cellular device, Tony?”
“Sure, here you go.” Tony pulled his Motorola 5G out of his front breast pocket and unlocked it with his thumb, then handed it to Beelzebub.
“You calling your lady?” he asked, smiling. “Just kidding, just kidding!” Tony was in a much better mood than most humans were that early in the morning.
Beelzebub examined the phone. A picture of a woman in a bikini was in the background of the icons.
He pushed the phone icon. The number was kept in his memory.
A couple of flies landed on Tony. “Oh man, what the hell. Did somebody leave a sandwich in the back?” He opened the window and shooed them out. More landed.
Beelzebub smiled and dialed the number.
If Chet had done his job properly, things were about to get hellish… at The Armored.
Back at The Armored, Mr. Bally had gotten curious about the duffel bag. He had pulled it out from under his desk and had it up on and open on his desk.
It was full of bricks of Semtex.
“Semtex?” he said to himself. “What is going on here?” he asked himself out loud.
He picked up his phone and called Director Jinpa’s direct line, but he was not picking up. It went straight to voicemail.
“Hello, Director. This is Kevin Bally down at The Armored in Lexington. I’m just calling to verify that one of your agents will be picking up a package today? It was left here by one of your agents. Agent Father Andersen. Not quite sure what I’m supposed to do with this. It’s Semtex. Father Andersen told me that an Agent,” he looked at his notepad “… an Uziel Axe would be picking up this package and that—”
The duffel’s ignition began to beep.
“Shit.” Kevin’s eyes went big.
He ran to the door and yelled, “Everyone, get out of the building!” But it was too late.
An instant later, the entirety of The Armored was gone in a blast that took out the entire facility.
Fire consumed everyone and everything.
It was a bloodbath of fire.
The demons had made their first strike against their true enemy.
The Demonic Exorcism Division.
Beelzebub wished he could have been there to collect the souls personally.
<Episode 29 | Table of Contents | Episode 31>
New episodes every Tuesday and Thursday at 3 PM PDT!!
All these cliffhanger episodes. Maybe you should do five a week? Really enjoying this.
Adam, I had a taxing day today, but instead of feeling sleepy, I’m completely wired from these events. Sprinters have that effect on me! Not! I think I’ll try my best “Bill the Cat” expression before diving into the next episode.