Already Smith was reading the signs of a new wave of terrorist activities.
In Boston a private security agency whose uniformed employees were composed of Lebanese engineering students was showing a sudden surge of activity having nothing to do with its billabie clients. Smith alerted the Boston branch of the FBI.
In Beirut, members of the Iranian-backed Hezbollah militia were filtering out of the city to transit points, presumably bound for the West. Smith alerted U.S. immigration.
And in Iran, the Iranian Parliament was calling for severe punishment against U.S. aggressions. Iran was always calling for the U.S. to be punished for imagined aggressions. It was a day-to-day activity designed to keep their Revolution alive. Smith called up the details. It was usually the same. Imaginary nonsense promulgated for domestic consumption.
What Smith found was the usual hysteria and threats. Iran claimed a U.S. invasion force had attempted to enter the country. They claimed as proof a number of bodies of American mercenaries, and they had taken hostage a U.S. oil tanker, the Seawise Behemoth, which had been used to smuggle in the invading force. Smith's computers informed him that there were no traceable links between the oil company that owned the tanker and Sluggard's organization.
There were daily demonstrations in the streets of Tehran in which the alleged instigator of the attack, Reverend Eldon Sluggard, was burned in effigy on a wooden cross.
Smith almost laughed aloud. The idea of a television preacher launching a military strike into the Middle East in cooperation with an oil company was too bizarre even for Iranian propaganda.
One item showing up on his computer search did get Harold Smith's attention.
A Sapulpa, Oklahoma, couple, Don and Bessie Booe, was filing a suit against the Reverend Eldon Sluggard. They claimed that their son, Lamar, had gone on a retreat to Sluggard's Christian Campground and disappeared.
According to Sluggard's people, Lamar Booe had left the retreat after only a week, citing his lack of faith. The Booes countered that claim by producing letters from their son, purportedly written more than a month after Sluggard's people claimed he had left the Christian Campground, as proof of their story.
Although it seemed to be merely a case of a young man who perhaps couldn't face his parents after failing to live up to their expectations, Smith called up all available data from the news-media file. At this point, anything unusual pertaining to Reverend Eldon Sluggard and his ministry could not be overlooked, no matter how inconsequential.
Chapter 15
The red light winked out and Reverend Eldon Sluggard collapsed into a plush chair. The overhead spotlights were killing him. The cameramen began pulling their now-inactive equipment away from the set.
"El, I have to tell you," the director said effusively, "that was your best show ever. You were positively inspired."
"Thanks," said the Reverend Eldon Sluggard as he wiped the sheen of sweat from his brow. After changing handkerchiefs twice, he saw that the cloth was still coming away sopping. He was thinking that for once he wasn't positively inspired. He was negatively inspired. If he didn't pull in enough recruits to make a difference, his head was going to end up on a post in Persiaor whatever it was called now. "Now, do me a favor? Clear out all these technical people and get me Victoria Hoar."
"Check."
While Reverend Sluggard waited, someone came up behind him.
"I just wanted to tell you," a voice said while Reverend Sluggard jumped a foot into the air with fright, "what an inspiring sermon that was."
"Whoee! Don't you sneak up on me like that again!" said the Reverend Sluggard when he recognized his bodyguard.
"Sorry!" Remo said in a sheepish voice.
" 'S all right. Ah get really wound up after one of these things. "
"I was wondering if you could explain something to me."
"What's that?"
"You were talking about repentance earlier. When I was a kid, we'd go to confession, the priest blessed us, and we had to say a few 'Hail Marys,' a couple of 'Our Fathers,' and an 'Act of Contrition.' But how does it work here?"
"Got sins hanging heavy on your soul?"
"Well," Remo admitted, "it's been a while."
"Do you feel sorry for them, son?" asked Reverend Sluggard, his voice sinking into an oily unctuousness.
"Yeah. "
"And you want the good Lord to forgive you?"
"Do you think he would?"
"How much money you got on you?"
"Money?" Remo said vaguely. He dug into his wallet. "I don't know," he said as he started to count out the contents. "Maybe-"
"That's enough," said Eldon Sluggard, snatching the money away. "You're forgiven."
"I am?" Remo asked blankly.
"Ah said so, didn't Ah?"
"But it doesn't seem ... I mean it. . ."
"Son, when you used to tell the priest about how sinful you were, how long did it take you to go right on doing what you were ashamed to tell the priest you were doing in the first place?"
"Oh, a couple of days. A week at most."
"And you know why?"
"No."
"Because all the priest asked of you was to say a few prayers. Prayers are easy, son. Prayers are cheap. Any sinner can pray. But money, that's different. Do you for one godly minute think that if every sinner had to fork over his grocery money when he confessed to sin, he'd be so quick to keep right on sinnin'?"
"No..." Remo said slowly.
"No! That's right! No, he would not. He'd waver. He'd think twice, and then thrice. Because money is substantial. Money is important. Everyone knows it. Don't you think God knows it too? That's why he sent you here."
"Actually, it was someone else's idea," Remo put in.
"Someone who was inspired by the Holy Spirit!" Remo's brow gathered in thought. He tried to imagine Dr. Harold W. Smith motivated by the Holy Spirit. The image wouldn't come. Maybe he wasn't imagining hard enough.
"The Holy Spirit brought you here. And you know why?" Before Remo could open his mouth, Reverend Eldon Sluggard answered his own question. "Because he knew you needed saving and that the starving people of Ethiopia needed this money. This is God's money now. It's gonna be put to good use. And so are you. Tell you what. Ah'm gonna confer with one of mah advisers about how best to get this money to Ethiopia. Why don't you check on security?"
"I had another question," Remo started to say.
"Time enough for that later. Now, off with you. We gotta keep this house of the Lord inviolate from the heathen. "
Reluctantly Remo left the studio. Reverend Eldon Sluggard watched him go.