Good Morning and Good-bye, Part Twenty-three

   
    Mariana pulled out of her bag a cross and a jar of holy water. At first, she had drifted back from the men who had abducted her in fear.  Now, she moved forward. Guns turned on her from the good guys and the bad guys as she stood between the two groups. She turned towards Boris/Stalin and started reciting, ““In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen.”
    “Oh the Ukrainian girl is going to pray!” said Boris/Stalin with a great guffaw. Stroganov and his henchmen grinned and laughed as well.
    “Perhaps she is a witch,” said Dr. Andropov, “Are you a witch, girl?”
Unfazed, Mariana continued raising the cross and jar above her head, “ Where have you, you good-for-nothing, come from? From the wind, or from bad dreams? Here you mustn’t show yourself, here you mustn’t dwell.  You no-good. You think we do not know where you come from. You are from the evil one.”
    “What’s going on here Volkswagen?”  said Chief Inspector Jim Dawes as he crept up along where Hans had taken cover behind his car. Commander Volkswagen looked at Dawes with a smirk. Sure enough, the white hats were sticking their noses in his affairs.
    “It’s under control,” Hans said.
    A breeze started to blow along the riverbank. Inside the Mermaid X-jet, they were ready to start its two engines. One of the turbines on the jet started to spool up. Just as quickly, it shut down. In the cockpit, the pilots looked puzzled and started doing checks.
This made Stroganov look a bit nervous. Boris/Stalin was not. In fact, he seemed to settle down and stand up straight. The man of gold looked into the eyes of Mariana.
    Mariana now looked as though she were in a trance and said to Boris/Stalin,  “I’ll give you three tasks:  One task—pour water back into itself, the second task—bring noise from the rocks, the third task—make the sound of the wind, you no-good, I’ll give you a cane stick—walk with it—take yourself out of here.  Go where dogs don’t bark, where chickens don’t sing, where enemy winds stroll.
    “Silas, what is she saying?” asked Halley.
    “I‘m not fluent in Ukrainian, but based on my Russian, I think she trying to drive Stalin out of Boris. Either that or she told him she was turning him into a rock sending him to live with dogs and chickens.”
    Mariana continued, “Well of holy water, shore, roots, and rocks, wash Boris of the evil that has taken over him.”
    “Foolish witch,” exclaimed Boris/Stalin, “Do you think your god has power over me?”
Undeterred she continued, “New moon, silver-gold moon, dear, help, cleanse all, wash, cleanse, wash and bless, so he will be, as clear, and clean as are you.”
    “I am more powerful than your god! Like him, I have defeated death, but unlike him, I am still here to prove it. Where is he? I have never seen him. I am here. I am your Master!”
    Silas stood, as did the others, transfixed by this young woman taking on the golden creature before them. He wondered to himself whether Mariana could summon the power of God. Silas thought how he often found God distant and invisible.
    Nell was tortured looking at this scene. She felt helpless in Stroganov’s hold. She felt her only hope was in a woman who had appeared out of nowhere it seemed. ‘Why didn’t Stalin just have her shot outright,’ she thought. He was toying with her.
    Mariana suddenly stopped praying. The force against her made her shake and buckled at the knees. She lost the jar of holy water out of one hand and it rolled towards Silas and Halley. Her mouth felt like it had sticky spider webs in it. She still gripped her cross with the other hand.
    Boris/Stalin said with a cold expression, “Time to purge this world of traitors, spies and fools like you girl. And what a better place to start than in America. Time to finish the revolution!” Stalin raised his right arm, palm sideways and looked to the sky. The night sky grew bright with red clouds that started swirling over the downtown.  An acrid smell, like burning electrical components wafted in the air.
    Stroganov held Nell, but pointed the gun at Mariana.
    “Let’s start with her. Master, let me kill her. I will kill all the Americans for you Comrade Stalin.”
    “Would you Stroganov? Would you want me to put you in charge of America in the new Soviet order?”
    Stroganov nodded and gave a lustful grin. He hated Americans. Their democratic chaos he considered a disease to be wiped out. He had to endure being around them for so long. Exiled by the party to this nothing outpost in uncivilized America as punishment for being too reactionary. 
    “So you would like that power, eh Stroganov?”
    “Yes Comrade Stalin, very much.”
    “You would like having the power of life and death?”
    “Yes Comrade Stalin.”
    “Hand me your weapon Stroganov.”
    “What?”
    “Hand me your weapon. Let me teach you about life and death and who should die first.”
    A bit puzzled, Stroganov handed him his revolver. Boris/Stalin looked at it, feeling its weight in his hand. He turned away from Stroganov.
    “Stroganov, release the woman and stand at attention!”
    Stroganov shoved Nell towards one of his consulate guards who held her firm, with a gun to her side. Silas flinched, but knew he could do nothing.
    Boris/Stalin turned towards Mariana and pointed the gun at her. Then he spun and turned towards the tall, stiff Stroganov.
    “Comrade Stroganov, I am the only one who has the power of life and death.”
He walked up to Stroganov and pointed the gun at his stomach. Stroganov’s eyes suddenly looked fearful.
    “Anyone who is as power hungry as you cannot be trusted. Eventually, you might think you can be me. But what you would be, is an enemy of the state, my enemy.”
    “Master, no,” said Stroganov softly.
    Boris/Stalin pulled the trigger twice in succession. As Stroganov staggered back, blood splattered onto Boris/Stalin’s shirt and sport coat. He looked down at the reddish splotches that were on his funny gold clothes. The stains quickly absorbed into him, leaving no trace. Stalin/Boris looked at where the blood had been on his tunic, smiled with satisfaction and said, “Ahhh. I haven’t felt death from anyone for so long.”
    “You are right Comrade Stalin, forgive me,” said Stroganov, a crumpled heap on the ground looking up at his god. Even to his last breath, he loved Comrade Stalin, as his parents had taught him since a child.
    Boris/Stalin leaned down to the stricken Stroganov and said, “Of course comrade,” and then pushed the body over on its side with his boot. Then he put a hand to his own head, then turned on Dr. Andropov and said, “If you can’t fix this horrible headache I have Andropov, you’re next.”
    Silas looked down at the jar of holy water near him. It was just a jar of ordinary water, or was it? Was the power of the Holy Spirit was in that jar? Could he throw the jar at Boris/Stalin and destroy the evil before him? He wondered if he believed that was possible. Silas moved to pick up the jar.