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THE BLUE DOVE#1: The Advocate Strikes! Part Eight

The dark, brown hood over Natalee’s face shielded her from the dim light inside the room. She was seated. Her hands were tied behind her back. Her legs were bound to the chair. Natalee attempted to struggle against the ropes to no avail. She could hear a sound, like an engine hum, and she almost had the feeling of weightlessness. The room bumped and shook every few moments.

“Wonderful. Just wonderful,” Natalee whispered underneath her breath. “Nobody can see my face.”

A door opened and the Advocate, followed by two hooded, robed henchmen entered. The Advocate walked toward Natalee and yanked the hood off her face. Natalee blew a piece of dust off her face.

“You are very beautiful,” the Advocate said.

“Tell me something I don’t already know you crazy pyschos!” Natalee burst out.

“What would you like to know?” the Advocate calmly asked.

“Who are you?”

“I am the Advocate. High Priest of the Caiphas Cult.”

“Alright,” Natalee sarcastically said. She rolled her eyes. “Let’s forget that I asked that question.”

“Anything else?”

“Here’s a good one. Like, how about where am I?” she shot back. “Or how about why did you have to tie me up? That’s like so 1980’s kidnap movie!”

The Advocate walked behind the chair. He waved his gloved hand. The ropes holding Natalee glowed and disappeared.

“You are 41,000 feet above the Atlantic Ocean,” the Advocate said.

Natalee jumped to her feet.

“What!?!” she pointedly screamed. Natalee looked at the two hood figures. “You guys need a major makeover.”

“Why are you helping the sisters?” the Advocate asked.

Natalee turned to face him.

“The guy flying the plane,” she said. “He’s not dressed like that, is he? Hard to see with the hood and all.”

“Why are you helping the sisters?” the Advocate repeated.

“Look, aardvark, or whatever your name is,” she defiantly said. “Like I told karate kick nun lady, I don’t know what this whole thing is about and I don’t really care. I was just trying to donate some stupid party decorations that my stupid boyfriend bought for our stupid homecoming dance. That’s it.”

“Would you like something to drink?” the Advocate responded.

“Ah, no,” she retorted. “It’s very important that I be at this homecoming dance. I’m going to be homecoming queen. Do you know how bad that would look if the homecoming queen wasn’t at the homecoming dance? Do you know who I am?”

“Silence little girl!” the Advocate roared. Natalee fell back into the chair. “Where is the Bible?”

“The Bible?” she puzzlingly asked. “Try a bookstore or maybe a hotel room or something.”

“The sisters gave you a Bible! That Bible shows the location of Saint Veronica’s tomb! ”

“Saint Veronica?” Natalee said. “Who in the world is Veronica? Do you need a list of all my BFF’s names? I don’t know any Veronica’s. I mean, there’s that girl that nobody talks to…”

“How do you know the Blue Dove?” the Advocate interrupted.

“I don’t know any Blue Dove! Isn’t a blue dove like a bird or something?”

The Advocate walked passed her.

“The Blue Dove came to your aid at the school,” he calmly replied. “How were you able to contact him?”

“I didn’t contact him,” Natalee answered. “I called Anthony.”

“Anthony Blake?”

“Yes. Anthony Blake,” she sighed in disgust. “And he sends some flying freak in a terrible cosplay costume. Go figure.”

“It makes sense now,” the Advocate remarked. He walked over to a row and seats. He picked up Natalee’s purse and removed her cellphone.

“Thank goodness. You brought my purse,” Natalee said. “You want me to call him or something?”

“Oh no, my dear,” the Advocate remarked. “I’d like to call Mr. Blake myself.”

“Your cellphone,” Gabriel said.

Anthony walked over to the table. “It’s Natalee’s number, try to set up a trace. Hello?”

“Mr. Blake,” the voice said. “I believe we have an area of mutual interest.”

“Who is this?” Anthony demanded. “How do you know my name?”

“You may call me the Advocate,” the voice calmly replied. “Your friend, Natalee Bennett, was kind enough to allow me to borrow her phone.”

“Let me talk to her,” Anthony said. “If you’ve harmed Natalee…”

“Whether you speak to her again will depend entirely on your willingness to cooperate with our requests.”

“What do you want?”

“You have a certain Bible that I wish to possess,” the Advocate said.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Anthony replied. “I don’t have a Bible.”

“If you don’t have it, I believe you know who does. Ms. Bennett called you for a reason, Mr. Blake. Surely you have the means to acquire it. It would greatly distress me if your dear, sweet Natalee had to suffer for your inabilities.”

“Sweet?” Gabriel whispered. “He doesn’t know her like we do.”

“I may be able to get the Bible for you,” Anthony said. “But only if Natalee is released first.”

“You are hardly in a position to bargain with us,” the Advocate chuckled. “When you acquire the Bible, you will bring it to Jerusalem. You will check into the Golgotha Hotel. We will contact you with further instructions. You have forty-eight hours.”

“Jerusalem?” Anthony shockingly asked. “How am I supposed to get to Jerusalem with this Bible in forty-eight hours?”

“You are a young man with considerable resources, Mr. Blake,” the Advocate replied. “I am confident that you will find a way. Ms. Bennett will be depending on you. Forty-eight hours. Enjoy your evening, Mr. Blake. I look forward to meeting you.”

The cellphone clicked off.

“Could you trace it?” Anthony asked.

“No,” Gabriel said. “He must have some way of jamming the tower signals. What’s our next move?”

“I swore I’d never return,” Anthony slowly said. “I swore I would never return to the place where my parents were killed.” Anthony walked over to the glass container holding the Blue Dove uniform. It lit up.

“Are you sure you’re ok with this?” Gabriel asked.

“We have little choice,” Anthony replied.

“We have to play the Advocate’s game. But that doesn’t mean, we can’t bring some extra firepower. Pack our bags, Gabriel we’re going to Israel.”

“I’ll call the airport,” Gabriel remarked. “And have them prepare the private jet for takeoff. We can make reservations once we’re in the air. But you’re packing your own bags, I’m not the darn butler.”

“Oh yeah, right,” Anthony replied. “Let’s move.”


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