Chapter 7: Wrath of God

Alert. For the first time in his recent memory, Wade was alert. His curiosity was replaced with a calculated ability to analyze and deduce for himself. His uneasy hesitation to believe the ridiculous stories he was told was replaced with a faint familiarity of the past lives he was told he had.

            Seated, once again, in front of Lila and his dear guide Margaret, Wade was prepared for whatever they threw at him. Lila poured herself an apparently strong cup of coffee. Margaret refused the offer for the morning eye opener. Prepared to record the briefing Margaret continued to explain to Wade his own life.

            “Did you sleep well, dear?” She asked.

            “I slept just fine, thanks.” Wade, more awake than either of the women, replied.

            “We have a lot to tell you. We will go at your pace but you must understand that this is not a joke. This is not a means to be cruel. We have to do this and you must understand and learn to believe us.”

            Lila rolled her eyes at Margaret's genuine sensitivity.

            “Since we gave you that injection last night, has your headache eased?” Margaret asked.

            “My head is fine. I am fine. I would like to know what information you have on me to help explain some things.” Wade stated.

            “Fair enough. Last night I told you that you were the oldest of us. I would like to tell your story but you must know that this is mostly speculation from our observers and some data from archaeologists.” Margaret pulled a large file from her briefcase and set in on her lap.

            “My dear, we have no idea when you were born. We have no idea how long you were around before you found your way in documentation. What we do know is that you came into the picture at about 850 AD. Your life is a vast sea of confusion and rhetoric. What we do know is that you traveled much of the known world before you were discovered. You learned ways of medicine and meditation. You studied much of what the people of the time would consider magic.

            When you found your calling, you were a city chieftain in Asgaard, the chief city of Asaland. You led the men into battle many times and always came back victorious. Your victories led to legend that became the unbelievable. When you began to dictate sacrifice policies to the priests, you were seen as a god. In one particular war with Vanaland, you defeated their best warrior and your army annihilated the remaining army. You sealed your fate as the god of war. You would leave your city for months, even years at a time. You were associated with travelers. Your disguises, so the people wouldn't recognize you, made them think that you could shape shift. Remember, primitive people were susceptible to explaining things in ridiculous ways.”

            Wade hinted his trademarked crooked smile. Margaret continued.

            “You led a large group of followers north. Teaching those along the way, your way of life. Being in a warrior society, you managed to explain away all questions of life and death with parables and lore. The idea of heaven and hell, adopted from other cultures, became their way of life. You did manage to leave a hell of a mark behind you. Names that we still use today were your ideas. Hel the lowest level of the afterlife became our Hell.”

            Margaret continued talking while pouring herself a cup of the thick coffee.

            “You even have your own day! Well, fifty-two of them. Wōden's Day.”

            Wade's eyes blinked in unbelief.

            “I never heard of it. Was that in my studies?”

            Margaret smiled.

            “Yes, dear, it was. We call it Wednesday.”

            Wade laughed, nearly uncontrollably.

            “Wow, I'm honored.” He laughed.

            “You should be, two of your sons have one too. Even your concubine has one!”

            Wade looked perplexed.

            “Dear, Thor's day is Thursday and Freyja, your concubine, is Freyja's Day or Friday, Tyr, another son, is Tyr's Day Tuesday.”

            Wade blinked in unbelief.

            “You know, thinking back to even yesterday, I recall my own thoughts and beliefs as childish. Now you are telling me about my own children. I have heard of Thor but I haven't heard of either of the rest of the names you mentioned.”

            “Wade, you had a lot more than two children. When you were Odin, you had three that people accept as true sons with your wife, Frigg. The others are speculated. We believe you had about seventeen with concubines and other... seductions.”

            Wade didn't push the hesitation of her description of seductions.

            “To wrap this up, dear, you were Odin. The all father. The god of war, wisdom, death, magic, poetry, prophecy, and the hunt. It's a hell of a resume!”

            Wade had no control of his laughter.

            “How do you expect me to believe this? You tell me this story and expect me to believe that this is my past! You call me a god, a warrior, immortal! I can't even leave this place! What kind of god am I that I can't even leave this very room?”

            Margaret sympathized with his impatient skepticism.

            “Wade, you aren't a god. You were never a god. You simply were able to do things that the people of the time could not explain. Your death left a massive question of your mortality. What do you expect them to believe?”

            Wade sat back, finding his patience.

            “My death? What happened?” Wade asked.

            “Well, you were old. You were building up your exit by feigning an illness. Because of your own teachings of dying by the blade, you took a spear and stabbed yourself. That way the most hardened of the warriors would declare that even Odin would rather die by the blade. You were burned on a pyre later on.”

            “Wait. Burned on a pyre? How did I come back from that?” Wade asked.

            “Honey, we have no idea. Some guess that the pyre happened but you weren't really on it. Others speculate that you burned but not completely, your cells were able to recover what was left. Most assume that you escaped the pyre by replacing the body, as most of us do for burials.”

Wade desperately needed to stretch his legs. Standing, Lila stood from her silence.

            “We aren't done yet!” Lila shouted.

            With a scowl that put even the dreaded Lila in her place.

            “I will leave when I wish. I am neither a prisoner or a slave. If you must know, I wish to stand for a moment. Do not confuse my compliance with cowardice!” Wade defended.

With a grin of pride, Margaret continued.

            “Your life after Norse mythology strayed away from history books and documentation, until...”

            With hesitation, Margaret motioned back to the chair.

            “My dear, would you please?”

            With a respectful acknowledgment, Wade sat back in the chair.

            “Hon, when we found out who you were, we used you to suit our needs. We do this to all immortals to suit our needs as well as to prevent the world from knowing about immortals.”

            Wade's face returned to the stern scowl.

            “Used me? What do you mean we?” Wade demanded.

            Margaret shifted in her seat in discomfort.

            “Wade, 'we' was meant to refer to the organization that we all work for. I participated with you for the first time when you met me. I had never seen you before that day, I swear!”

            Lila stood from her desk and walked front and center of Wade.

            “Listen, freak, our job is a hell of a lot bigger than your life. Bigger than any life! Our job brings stability to nations! We stabilize the economy, politics, international law! Who the hell do you think you are that you would down play our importance? What makes you think that you can presume to be offended for lives you don't even remember? We gave you purpose! We gave you a real life! You were rich beyond your wildest dreams in every life. You've had children, wives, businesses, and governments! We simply guided your decisions as payment for the lifewe gave you. Does that seem so bad?”

            Standing, furiously, Wade grabbed Lila by the throat and shoved her into the nearby wall. Lifting her up to his eye level, Wade answered her.

            “My life was not a gift from you. You asked me who I think I am to defy you? I am the very god of war you told me I was! And you. You are this war's first casualty!”

            With a firm squeeze of his large hand, Wade crushed the throat of the woman in his hand. Dropping her to the cold tile floor, he turned to Margaret. Frozen in place, Margaret couldn't find the words to plead for her life. Wade turned back to Lila and placed her own coat over her body, shielding the image from Margaret.

            As if measuring his next move of a chess board, Wade walked behind her desk and began to search through his file. Content with his findings, he took the whole file and placed in in Lila's briefcase. Eyes, now showing compassion, found their way to Margaret's own terrified

eyes.

            “You have always been kind. I will always appreciate that. I have no intent of harming you. I have no desire to see you frightened. If you come with me, I will explain everything.”

            Turning back to Lila's desk, Wade wadded several papers into loose balls and placed them in a steel trash can beneath the desk. With a lighter from her desk drawer, Wade set fire to the trash can. Between the ventilation systems, paper and books that fill the office, and the tapestries that cover the walls, the room would act as an excellent starting point to stage an evacuation.

            Margaret, still frozen in place, could only see the flames rise and the large man rushing toward her. Alarms began to sound as the sprinkler systems activated in the room.

            “If we go, it must be now.” Wade calmly stated.

            With the option of trusting Wade or staying in the inferno, she promptly followed Wade to the door. Using the key card to exit, Margaret led Wade to the elevator leading to the above hangar. The normal silence of the elevator was replaced with the beating of her heart pounding over the wailing alarm through the elevator speakers. The doors opened to the hangar where the co-pilot met them.

            “What the hell is going on in there?” The co-pilot demanded.

            “We are evacuating right now!” Wade ordered.

            The wiry co-pilot adjusted his glasses while searching for Wade's employment card, typically clipped to the shirt.

            “Sir, I need authorization in order to do something like that!” Said the skinny co-pilot.

            “Look, the other floors are trapped by the fire doors. The fire started on the first sub level, do you know what that means?” Wade probed.

            “It means that we have minutes before the oxygen systems are involved! Get your a*s in that plane and get us in the air!” Wade demanded.

            Nervously, the co-pilot took his word and rushed to the plane. Following closely behind were Wade and Margaret. After a quick briefing, the pilot opted to take off than wait for an explosion. The engine of the twin jet aircraft whirred to life. Pulling out of the hangar, Wade got his first glimpse of the sun since he had arrived. Squinting through the small aircraft windows, Wade forced himself to study the sky he hadn't seen in a lifetime.

            The plane was positioned on the runway and quickly accelerated toward freedom.