The Trinity Game

scope.
    His uncle stood on the stage in front of the blazing white façade of Saint Louis Cathedral, smiling and waving at the multitudes packing Jackson Square. He raised his arms and made a gesture for quiet, and the crowd went silent.
    He made it!
    Daniel felt an incredible swelling in his chest, felt his face break into a wide grin. He put his eye back to the lens. His uncle placed his blue Bible on the podium, leaned toward the microphones, smiled once more, and began speaking to the world.
    And then the front of Tim Trinity’s shirt turned bright red.
    A mist of blood filled the air in front of his chest, sparkling in the sunlight like a million tiny rubies.
    People scattered, screaming, in all directions as Trinity collapsed to the stage.
    Daniel dropped the scope and started running.

A ndrew Thibodeaux stepped back from the rifle on the table and listened to the pandemonium outside with a sort of calm detachment. He looked at the hole the bullet had ripped in the window sheers. Of course there would be a hole, but he was surprised to see it there. The hole looked odd to him, he didn’t know why.
    His mind echoed with instructions from the Lord’s Shepherd. There was still one thing left to do. Killing the Deceiver was the most important thing, and it was accomplished, but Andrew’s task wasn’t finished.
    He stepped back to the bed and stared at the pistol.
    He didn’t like this part.
    Normally this would be a sin, but the Shepherd had explained. God needed Andrew’s help, and so this was not a sin, not this time.
    Divine dispensation for divine assistance, the Shepherd had called it.
    He was God’s most faithful servant now, God’s special son, and when this last thing was done, he would be carried to paradise on the wings of angels.
    He would be welcomed as a hero in heaven, and he would dine at the same table with Jesus and the Apostles.
    Andrew Thibodeaux sat on the edge of the bed, picked up the gun, and put the barrel in his mouth, knowing he would be there soon.

    Daniel leapt onto the stage where three paramedics worked furiously on his uncle. Trinity’s shirt was open, his chest covered in blood, and a square of clear plastic was taped over the bullet hole. Daniel dropped to his knees and took his uncle’s hand as one of the medics said, “Losing him…” and another said, “Pressure dropping…too much blood…”
    Daniel squeezed his uncle’s hand. “God, please don’t die…” He could feel hot tears streaming down his face. “Hang on…stay with me…”
    Tim Trinity’s eyelids fluttered and he looked straight up. “Can’t see you.” Daniel put his face right above Trinity’s. Trinity let out a small smile.
    “Why, Tim? Why didn’t you wear the vest?”
    “God didn’t want me to.” Trinity’s fingers tightened around Daniel’s hand. “It’s OK, Danny, everything happened exactly as it was supposed to.” Trinity’s eyelids closed for a few seconds, fluttered open again. His free hand struggled to lift the Bible it was holding. “Take this…”
    Daniel reached across his uncle’s chest and took the blue Bible and held onto it. “I’ve got it.”
    Trinity’s smile grew as his eyes became more unfocused. “Quite a ride,” he said. “Quite a ride…”
    “I love you, Pops.”
    “I love you, son.” Tim Trinity closed his eyes slowly.
    He let out a very long breath and did not breathe again.

C onrad Winter had just signaled the flight attendant for another Bloody Mary when the pilot came over the PA.
    “Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We’ve just received some disturbing news from back in New Orleans. I’m sorry to report that, shortly after arriving in Jackson Square, Reverend Tim Trinity was shot, and has died.”
Several horrified gasps filtered up from the economy section. The flight attendant pulled the curtain closed as the captain continued.
“You’ll find CNN on channel four of your personal in-flight monitors, should you wish further updates.”
    Conrad put his headset on and tuned to CNN. Trinity had been shot at 1:34, safely after the plane was in the air. Always good to have an alibi.
    And then came the news that assured Conrad an alibi would never be needed for this one. Police had just found the man who killed Trinity, dead of a self-inflicted gunshot, in the apartment block across from Saint Louis Cathedral. According to the Louisiana driver’s license found on the body, his name was Andrew Thibodeaux. He had been