Page 58 of Deadly Designs

That was an ominous statement if Christian had everheard one.

Christian and Kayne headed outside to stash theiraccouterments. Going into a meeting with a possible hostile withouta gun wasn’t ideal, but he and Kayne had their fists, and thosewere pretty damn effective weapons.

When they approached the vehicle, they found Presleydigging in the back of the SUV. She stood and held out herpalm—American flag pins.

“Perfect. Thanks,” Christian said as he affixed it tothe pocket of his plaid shirt. The microscopic camera hidden insidewas undetectable. Though it wasn’t as convenient as pictures on thephone, it would still do the job.

After they’d stashed their guns, knives, and phones,they returned to the church and waved at Denny as they stood inline to enter the meeting room. A bald man wearing a white shirt,black sports jacket, and sunglasses worked the metal detector.Kayne went first, followed by Christian. They passed through easilysince they’d removed anything that would’ve set it off.

Christian and Kayne entered the room where theworkshop would take place. Coffee and donuts were arranged on aside table. The occupants looked like a recruitment office for thegreater Norfolk/Virginia Beach neo-Nazi club. One guy even sporteda swastika tattoo on his forehead.

No wonder Pastor Chet insisted on a metal detectorwith this kind of clientele.

“I don’t like this,” Kayne mumbled.

“Yeah, me either.”

Thirty or so seats were arranged in front of a dais,most of them filled. The front rows were occupied, so they had totake seats in the back. A few minutes later, three men walked in.One was clearly the leader, as he strode inside like he was God’sgift to the world. He stepped up to the microphone and twisted hislips into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Welcome, everyone. Thank you for coming tonight. I’mPastor Chet.”

Pastor Chet was of medium height and build, wearing acrisp white dress shirt and pressed black pants with shiny loafers.He was clean-shaven, including on his head. Eyes the color of astormy sky, devoid of kindness or compassion, raked the crowd.

He looked like a stone-cold killer.

The other two men sat in chairs behind him, appearingto be bodyguards. One was the guy who had worked the metaldetector. They watched the crowd like hawks, looking for threats,Christian assumed. Their bulk suggested hours at the gym, augmentedby a healthy dose of steroids. They wore dress shirts with sportscoats, and like Pastor Chet, their heads were smooth as a baby’sbottom. They hadn’t passed through the detector since each one wascarrying. The bulge beneath their arms was unmistakable.

“You’re here because you sense a larger purpose inyour life. It’s not enough to sit on the sidelines. You need totake an active role. As men, it’s up to us to be the leaders.”

He went on to spew hate and bigotry for an hour, allcloaked in the name of religion. Christian was ready to go up thereand beat the ever-loving crap out of him. By the clenching andunclenching of his fists, Kayne felt the same way. The others inthe room ate up his hateful rhetoric with a spoon, agreeing withhis moronic points and even cheering at times.

“This is frightening,” Kayne muttered.

No kidding. The men in the room hung on Pastor Chet’swords, almost cult-like. It was easy to see how loner and outcastByron Zikes had become radicalized. Pastor Chet vocalized theirthoughts, giving credence to their beliefs.

Finally, Pastor Chet wrapped up his Nazi manifesto.Kayne and Christian stood and clapped with the others, but theirhearts weren’t in it. Most of the sheep started for the exits. Heand Kayne stuck around, mingling by the refreshment table.Christian kept an eye on Pastor Chet, waiting for a chance to speakwith him.

“Wasn’t that, like, the best speech ever?” a man saidto Christian as he grabbed a donut. “I’m ready to take the fight tothe streets now. Are you with me?”

Heaven help us all. He was saved from answering whenPastor Chet meandered over.

“Pastor Chet, that was, like, the most awesome talkever,” donut man enthused. “You’re a god.”

“I’m just a man,” he said, probably hoping forhumility, but everything about the guy was smarmy. He turned toChristian and Kayne and pinned them with his stormy gaze.

“I haven’t seen you two here before. Is this yourfirst meeting?”

“Yep. My brother and I heard about you and wanted tolisten to what you had to say.” Not a lie—except for the brotherpart.

Pastor Chet smiled, but it didn’t reach his cold,dead eyes. “And?” He looked expectantly from Christian toKayne.

“You spoke our language,” Kayne drawled, andChristian silently applauded him. It was the perfect response. Muchbetter than theI can’t wait to see you arrested, psychopathresponse that almost spewed from his lips.

“Yeah,” Christian chimed in, oh so eloquently. Ittook all his restraint to refrain from wrapping his hands aroundthe man’s neck and squeezing until his head popped off.

Pastor Chet steepled his fingers. “Tell me what partinspired you the most.”

Christian’s mind spun, trying to conjure an answerwhen Kayne elbowed him. Hard. “Wha—”

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