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CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
She got as far as the glass door.
Hathaway looked soft but he was tougher than coat-hanger wire. He latched onto her wrists and wouldn't let go, then dragged her back into one of the wood-paneled bedrooms. Just like on the pier. He was the one who'd followed, he was the one who'd attacked her!
He slapped her hard and she spiraled down to the ground. She couldn't get her hands up for protection. Her head hit first. She lay for a moment, stu
"Warren-"
"Gabriel," Hathaway said, as cheerfully as if he'd just picked her up at a church social. He stepped out of the bedroom to collect the bag and the explosive. As he walked back, sipping his iced tea, he said to her, "You can call me Gabriel."
Rune whispered, "The Sword of Jesus… There really is a Sword of Jesus…"
"And we're very upset that people think we were just the creation of some psychotic murderer. We have you to thank for that. You and that film of yours."
"What do you want? What are you going to do to me?"
Hathaway began taking tools and wire and small boxes out of his canvas bag. "You have to understand I don't feel we can eliminate sin and evil. There've always been whores, there's always been sin. But there have also been those who fight against it, even if they have to sacrifice their own life." He looked at her carefully and when he spoke, the reasonable tone in his voice was somehow as terrifying as Tommy Savorne's craziness had been. "We're like advertising in a way. We get the message across. What people do with that message is up to them."
Rune said, "You weren't a witness at all. The first bomb-you planted it."
"As I was leaving the theater, a man stopped me. He called me 'brother.' He had a kind face. I thought I could help him, I could get him to repent and accept Jesus. Even if we both died in the blast he'd be entering the Kingdom of God. That would have been such a marvelous thing.
Unfortunately, what he was looking for wasn't salvation at all but twenty dollars for a blow job. As I turned to leave the bomb went off. It removed most of his head but what was left of his body saved my life. That's ironic, I suppose. God works in strange and wonderful ways."
And the injuries on her face-part of that was the tear gas.
Rune realized too that he'd lied about the man in the red windbreaker being older-to shift suspicion away from himself. And he'd worn the hat to cover up his bald head.
Hathaway continued. "I saw you outside the theater. Saw you with the camera. I thought you were one of those si
"What are you going to do with me?"
"Make you a living testament to the will of God."
"Why me? I don't make those movies."
"You were doing this film about a pornographic actress. You're idealizing her-"
"No I'm not. I'm showing what the business did to her."
"She got exactly what she deserved. You should make your movies about missionaries, about the glory of God-"
"I'll show you my film! There's nothing glamorous about it."
Hathaway looked at her and smiled. "Rune, we all have to make sacrifices. You ought to be proud of what's going to happen to you. I think the press coverage should last a year. You're going to be famous."
He sat down on the small bed, spreading out the components of the bomb, examining each one carefully.
She eased forward, her feet sliding under the bed slightly.
Hathaway said, "Don't think about jumping at me." The box cutter she remembered from the first attack on the pier was in his hand. "I can hurt you in very painful ways. It's why I wear ared windbreaker-I sometimes have to hurt people. They sometimes bleed."
Rune sat back on the bed.
Hathaway spoke in a soothing tone as he pressed a white cylinder into the middle of the wad of explosive. "This is about three ounces of C-3." He looked up. "I wouldn't go into this detail normally but since you're going to be my partner in this project I thought you'd like to know a little about what to expect. It's not fair to let you think you can just pull the wires out and wait for help." He held up a black plastic box, which he pressed the explosive into. "And what we have here is very clever. A rocker box. It has a liquid mercury switch. If you pick it up and try to pull the detonator out the switch sets off the explosive. The battery's inside, so you can't cut the power." He ran wires to another small black box with a clock on it. "The timer. It's set and armed electronically. There's a shunt. If you disco
"Please, I'll do whatever you want. Do you want me to make a movie about God? I can do that."
Hathaway looked at her for a moment. "You know, Rune, there are clergy that will accept repentance at any time, whether the si
Rune said, "Yeah? And what do you thinkyou are-a good Christian? Bullshit. You're a killer. That's all you are."
Hathaway's eyes lifted to her as he picked up the wire. "Swear all you like. God knows who His faithful are."
He stood back. "There we go." He placed the assembly of boxes and wires on the night table and slid it into the middle of the room. "Now let me tell you what's going to happen." He was proud. He looked critically at the ceiling and walls. "The explosion will take out most of the i
Hathaway bounced on the floor near the bomb.
"Wood." He shook his head. "Hadn't counted on that. Splinters are going to be a problem. Fire too. But you'll just have to hope for the best. Now, there's easily enough explosive here to kill you. In fact, I'd say you've got a. twenty percent chance of getting killed outright. So I would suggest you take the mattresses and springs and lay them over you…" He looked around. "In that corner there. You'll be blown into the living room. It's hard to know exactly what'll happen but I can guarantee that you'll be permanently deafened and blinded. When C-3 goes off it spreads poisonous fumes. So even if you aren't blinded by the explosion you will be by the smoke. I think you'll probably lose an arm or leg or hand. Lung bums from the fumes. Can't tell for sure. Like I was saying, the splinters are going to be a problem. That's how most sailors were killed in nineteenth-century naval warfare, by the way. Splinters, not ca
"Why are you doing this to me? What's the point?" "So you'll tell everyone about us. People will believe us and they'll be afraid. You'll live off charity, you'll live off God's grace. You might die, of course. In fact, you can always choose that. Just pick it up." He gestured to the box. "But I hope you won't. I hope you realize what kind of good you can do, what kind of message you can leave for our poor sinful world."
"I know who you are. I can tell-" "You know Warren Hathaway, which isn't, of course, my name. And how are you going to pick me out of a lineup without eyes?" He laughed, then nodded at her and said, "You have thirty minutes. May God forgive you." Rune stared back at him.
Hathaway smiled and shook his head and left the room. She heard a half-dozen nails slamming into the frame of the door. Then there was silence. A moment later, the black box clicked and a red light came on. The hand of the clock started moving.