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The Powers That Be: A Supernatural Thriller
The Powers That Be: A Supernatural Thriller
The Powers That Be: A Supernatural Thriller
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The Powers That Be: A Supernatural Thriller

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>THE POWERS THAT BE A Supernatural Thriller by Joseph P. Rogers is an exciting suspense novel in which the action occurs in Rome, London, and St. Louis, Missouri. A Swiss Guard named Alberto Burke and Dr. Leo Leonard, a college professor, enter the battle between good and evil.

They try to prevent a satanic coven from obtaining some powerful spell scrolls. Alberto and Leo are helped by two talk radio hosts (Mark Tobin and Megan Aquilina) who are investigating some mysterious murders. The action in this novel moves relentlessly toward a shocking surprise ending.

LanguageEnglish
PublisheriUniverse
Release dateMay 27, 2011
ISBN9781462016549
The Powers That Be: A Supernatural Thriller
Author

Joseph P. Rogers

Novelist and playwright Joseph Rogers attended St. Louis University and has worked as a librarian at St. Louis Community College at Forest Park, Fontbonne University, Harris-Stowe State University, and Kirkwood Public Library. His website JoeRogers.homestead.com features mysteries, plays, and excerpts from his novels, Moonlight Warriors: A Tale of Two Hit Men, Maiden of Orleans: A Bayou Thriller, and The Snow Maiden: A Suspense Thriller.

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    The Powers That Be - Joseph P. Rogers

    Contents

    CHAPTER 1

    CHAPTER 2

    CHAPTER 3

    CHAPTER 4

    CHAPTER 5

    CHAPTER 6

    CHAPTER 7

    CHAPTER 8

    CHAPTER 9

    CHAPTER 10

    CHAPTER 11

    CHAPTER 12

    Then war broke out in heaven; Michael and his angels battled against the dragon. The dragon and his angels fought, but they were defeated and there was no longer any place for them in heaven. And the great dragon was thrown down, that ancient serpent, who is called the Devil and Satan, the deceiver of the whole world — he was thrown down to the earth, and his angels were thrown down with him.Revelation 12:7-9

    Fortune and love favor the brave.Ovid

    CHAPTER 1

    missing image file

    AM I MY BROTHER’S KEEPER?

    It was his favorite time of the week. Alberto Burke sat in the passenger seat next to the driver of the Popemobile. The Pope had just delivered his weekly address to the thousands of persons gathered in St. Peter’s Square and was now greeting the enthusiastic crowd.

    Alberto turned to look back at the smiling, elderly Pope who stood waving in the bulletproof glass enclosed area of the vehicle. Everyone, including the Pope, would have preferred for him to be able to ride in the open air; however, since the attempted assassination of John Paul II in the previous century, papal security had deemed it too dangerous for the Pope to travel through a crowd without the protective enclosure.

    Alberto glanced back at his older brother, Claudio, who was jogging next to the back of the Popemobile. Alberto had been a member of the Swiss Guard for three years, while his brother had been a Swiss Guard for four years. The two brothers had been born and raised in a small town in Switzerland. As teenagers, they had moved with their parents to Italy.

    Alberto’s eyes scanned the crowd, but he did not see any potential threats. It had been almost two years since there had been any incidents, and that incident had not been a serious threat. An emotionally-disturbed person who charged the altar during a papal Mass had been easily subdued.

    Alberto looked briefly at the bright, colorful banners that hung from the ancient buildings. His eyes returned to scanning the crowd, filled with the faithful from many nations.

    As Alberto read a sign held up by a group of visitors, with his peripheral vision, he saw a baseball-sized object coming through the air. The object struck the Popemobile’s bulletproof glass. The Pope, a Cardinal, and a Swiss Guard within the bulletproof enclosure turned to see what had hit the glass.

    The object bounced down into the front seat of the vehicle. A hand grenade landed on the seat between Alberto and the driver.

    Without hesitation, Alberto grabbed the grenade, pressed it against his chest, and rolled out of the vehicle, landing hard on the paving stones of St. Peter’s Square.

    Go! Get him out of here! he shouted at the startled driver.

    The driver pressed hard on the accelerator, causing the Popemobile to shoot forward.

    Alberto was flat on his stomach with the grenade tight against him. He hoped that his body and the paving stones would absorb most of the blast so that no one else would be killed.

    He expected to die at any second. I don’t recall dealing with hand grenades in any of our training exercises, but I’m certain that this is the right thing to do, Alberto reflected.

    He silently began saying an Act of Contrition prayer.

    The square was in chaos. His brother and two other Swiss Guards subdued the man who had thrown the grenade. Claudio slammed the man’s face into the pavement, breaking the man’s nose. Claudio’s fist smashed into the side of the man’s head and knocked him unconscious.

    As Claudio pulled his arm back to hit the grenade thrower again, another man placed a restraining hand on Claudio’s elbow.

    Claudio, that’s enough! Ian Glaus told him. Ian, a distinguished-looking man in his early fifties, was the commander of the Swiss Guard.

    Yes, sir, Claudio replied, reluctantly obeying.

    Search him for other weapons, Ian ordered. And see if you can find some identification on him. He signaled to another guard. Geoff, help Claudio search this man.

    Ian hurried over to Alberto. He knelt down next to the young guard.

    I don’t know much about grenades, Alberto, but I know that there should be a safety handle or lever on the grenade. Can you feel the handle?

    Yes, sir. I have the handle pressed against me — against my solar plexus.

    Good. Keep it pressed there. The police should be here very soon. They will take the grenade from you and place it into one of their steel boxes.

    Thank you, sir, but you should move back, Alberto said. His face was perspiring profusely. I’m not certain that I am maintaining consistent pressure on the safety handle. This thing could explode at any second, and there is no need for both of us to be killed.

    My guess is that grenade is a dud, Ian said. It should have exploded before you had time to press in the safety handle. However, the man might have thrown it too quickly or the grenade might have a long fuse, so just continue to do your best to maintain that steady pressure on that handle.

    I’ll do that, sir. Alberto realized that his commander was going to stay by his side until the situation was resolved one way or another, so Alberto made no further attempt to persuade Ian to move back to a safer location.

    A few minutes later, numerous cars from Rome’s police department arrived in St. Peter’s Square. A bomb disposal unit carried a steel box over to Alberto and Ian.

    Alberto looked up at the two men dressed in heavy, protective gear. They reminded him of astronauts in spacesuits.

    Okay, good job, one of the bomb-disposal policemen said. Now keep the pressure on that safety lever. I’m going to take the grenade from you.

    Alberto successfully transferred the grenade to the policeman, who promptly flipped it into the steel box and slammed shut the door.

    Everyone breathed an audible sigh of relief.

    CHAPTER 2

    missing image file

    TALK RADIO

    Ten seconds to air, Heather, Claire Bell, the radio show’s producer gave the time cue.

    Heather Spears, an attractive redhead in her late twenties, adjusted her microphone.

    Where is Jack? Heather asked.

    He’s getting a cappuccino in the break room , Claire said. And you are on the air.

    Good morning St. Louis! Heather declared enthusiastically. This is Heather Spears. At the moment I am flying solo, but I see my very handsome co-host hurrying down the hallway toward me. As Jack Sanders came into the studio, Heather said, Nice of you to join us this morning, Jack. I hope this show isn’t interfering with your busy schedule.

    Now, Heather, be nice. You know that I need my cappuccino in the morning. Until I get some caffeine in me, I’m of no use at all.

    Are you of any use after you have your cappuccino? Heather teased him. I hadn’t noticed.

    Well, my dear, I must be of some use. You accepted my marriage proposal last week.

    I’m pleading temporary insanity, Heather said.

    Too late. You accepted, and I’m holding you to it.

    Darn!

    You can’t fool me, Jack said. I know that you and your mother have already started looking at wedding dresses. And I know that you’ve selected a restaurant for the reception.

    You should have gone to work as a spy for the CIA, Jack Sanders. You seem to know everything going on everywhere.

    I am amazing, aren’t I? Jack said jokingly.

    Amazingly conceited, Heather grinned. Here’s one thing that you don’t know — I have selected my maid-of-honor. I called her this morning, and she accepted.

    And she is?

    Megan Aquilina, of course. She’s been my best friend for years. Who else would I select, Jack?

    I do have a sister.

    Your sister will be one of my bridesmaids.

    Hopefully by the day of the wedding, my sister’s broken heart will have healed sufficiently for her to be your bridesmaid.

    Jack, your sister lives in Chicago. I have only seen her three times! She’d hardly expect me to ask her to be my maid-of-honor.

    My sister is a very sensitive young woman.

    Unlike her brother.

    I’m sensitive!

    Yeah, right.

    You really asked Megan to be your maid-of-honor?

    Yes!

    But she’s on a rival radio station! Megan is your best friend, but she’s also the competition!

    "The Megan in the Morning show doesn’t start for another hour. And her show and our show probably attract different audiences."

    That’s true, Jack said. Our listeners are cool and smart; Megan’s listeners are the opposite of cool and smart.

    Jack, be nice. Anyway, there is plenty of room for both of our shows — both shows have very good ratings.

    Besides being our competitor, Megan is my old girlfriend. Doesn’t that fact make it kind of awkward for her to be your maid-of-honor?

    Jack, our listening audience is going to think that you dislike Megan. Many of them don’t realize that you are joking.

    Sure they do. Our listener’s are smart — unlike Megan’s listeners. I’m joking! That’s what I do! That’s why they pay me the big bucks!

    If they’re paying you the big bucks, then they’re paying you a lot more than they pay me, Heather said.

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