Free Rise of the Beast by Kenneth Zeigler

“And I enjoyed taking you, both of you. You are beginning to fit in with people really well.”
    “Getting a more appropriate wardrobe was helpful,” noted Duras.
    “Yes,” said Krissie. “Your old wardrobe sort of made you stand out in a crowd. No offense meant.”
    “Oh, none taken,” assured Duras, smiling broadly. “If we are to minister to humanity, we must learn to be more human. You are an excellent teacher, Miss Krissie.”
    Krissie nodded. She was becoming more at ease with the two angels, particularly with Duras. Duras seemed more open, more willing to help. Despite his quiet nature, he was actually the more considerate of the two. In fact, he had helped her prepare dinner this evening. She smiled a lot and laughed often when he was around. He could be quite amusing at times. Lusan was gracious, incredibly charming, but difficult to read. There were times that he made her feel very uneasy, though she wasn’t quite sure why.
    “Mr. Pagoni’s people are almost finished with your new identities,” said Leland. “Both of you will have very authentic looking French passports tomorrow. Even if someone were to check the French government’s electronic records, they would only find a confirmation of the validity of your passports. I don’t even pretend to understand how that was accomplished, but the people doing this for us are good.”
    “Excellent,” said Lusan, “I was a bit dubious about involving the Italian Mafia in this ministry, but I am pleasantly surprised so far. What of the bank accounts?”
    “We will be able to establish those once your passports and other necessary French documents are ready,” said Leland. “I don’t want to jump the gun on that one. I want things to go right the first time. Give it another three or four days, a week at most.”
    “Excellent,” repeated Lusan. “My faith in the two of you has not been misplaced. I can see that now. If you don’t mind, I think I will accompany you to Manhattan Gold tomorrow morning, put its proprietor more at ease.”
    “Good idea,” replied Leland. “I think it would help.”

     
    The following morning found Leland and Lusan in Dale Silversmith’s office at Manhattan Gold. Lusan had the five gold bars tucked away in his brief case. Though it weighed over 50 pounds, Lusan carried it as though it was filled with feathers.
    “I understand that you are French,” noted Dale, extending his hand to Lusan.
    “Heureux pour vous rencontrer, mon nom est Andre Lusan,”
said Lusan, introducing himself without hesitation.
“Je suis reconnaissant pour votre aide dans cette matière.”
    “You’re very welcome,” assured Dale. “Pleased to be of service.”
    Lusan removed the five gold ingots from the case and placed them on Dale’s desk, an act that brought a look of pure astonishment to his countenance.
    “Remarkable,” said Dale. “I’ll see to it that these end up in the safe right away. You will have a signed receipt before you leave. I am grateful for your business.”
    Lusan bowed slightly, but said nothing.
    “The papers are all signed,” said Leland, handing them to Dale. “How long before we can expect payment?”
    “Within the week,” assured Dale. “I will have the proceeds deposited directly into your account if you wish.”
    “We will be placing the proceeds in Mr. Lusan’s account, which should be established by then,” replied Leland. “Dale, I suspect that we will be giving you a lot of business over the next year or so.”
    Their meeting was amazingly short for a transaction so large. Fifteen minutes found Leland and Lusan back out on the city street. It was windy anddistinctly chilly. A cold front had ushered in the first cold weather of the season. It was clear that the Indian summer of the past two weeks was over.
    “I’d like to show you the office space Mr. Pagoni has provided for you,” said Leland, turning to Lusan. “It is in the new Davidson high-rise downtown. You will have two complete