The Healer, A Novel by GJ Kelly, Master Storyteller

"The point, Michael, is to survive. And that's what knowledge is for. Survival, and power. And the power to survive. With any luck, by the time the world realizes what's happening, it'll be too late for them to do anything about it. Once the idea has taken root, you're safe. Don't you see? The biggest mistake the Romans made from their point of view was killing Christ. It took away all their options. It made His message even more powerful. Resurrection, life after death. Even death couldn't stop Him spreading the message once the word was out.
"Today's establishment has learned a great deal since then. Live heroes can be discredited, turned, corrupted, manipulated. Dead heroes are martyrs, and much more dangerous. It's your anonymity that's the biggest threat to you at the moment. You could be killed here and now this minute and no one save a few of us would ever know what or who you might have been. And we'd have no proof save the lunatic ramblings of former patients. And if we did have proof, how long would it be before an assassin's bullet found us all? But once you're prepared, once we're prepared, you're safe. Trust me, Michael." (Father Simmonds, In the Gardens of St. Joseph's)

"I'm closing down Operation Sarin. Short of actually gassing a couple of thousand civilians, the charade's a waste of time."
There was a slight pause.
"Could that be arranged?"
"Smith...You're not serious?" (The Alliance, After the Siege of St. Joseph's)

    "Look!" said Jones, indicating the tv set. There was a newsflash, interrupting the children's programme that Michael had been gazing at before the drama outside came to their attention. Martin turned up the volume.
   "...and the armoured personnel carriers are moving into position. The officer-in-charge here tells us that the vehicles are intended to provide a safe observation platform to enable the siege to be maintained without danger to the soldiers they contain, and are stressing that this is not a prelude to an armed assault on the compound."
The telephone indicator lamp began winking, and Simmonds picked up the handset without activating the speaker.
   "Simmonds."
   "...Three of the APCs have already taken up positions on three sides of the compound, and a fourth is making its way up the dirt track where two days ago police were seriously injured when they came under fire and their vehicle overturned..."
   "I understand, William. But how do you expect us to view this situation? We haven't harmed a single soul. We did not shoot down that helicopter and you know it. And we were not responsible for the accident which injured your officers."
   "...As we look down over the estate we can see the guard moving out of his sentry box to stand in front of the barrier that blocks the track leading to the main gates of the hospice..."
   The camera zoomed in, clearly showing Brother Simon, arms folded, by the barrier. The armed police officer moved around the back of the abandoned van, raising his H&K MP9. They heard him challenge Simon over the loudspeaker on the console.
"Stand still! Armed Police Officer!"
   "...are obviously aware of the situation. The APC is about a hundred yards from the barrier now, and we can see the armed officer by the police van apparently challenging the brown-robed guard..."
   "I've told you, William. This action can only be construed as provocative. We categorically deny any involvement in the tragic events that cost the lives of those aboard that helicopter. And now you've cut off our water supply and are surrounding us with tanks."
   The APC came into view on the monitor, its engine spewing black diesel smoke as it rounded the bend in the track.
"Armed Police! Stand Still!"
They watched in silence as Brother Simon took two paces forward, and the armed officer stepped out of cover, kneeling on the muddy track and sighting along the MP9 now aimed at the bald-headed man. The television camera zoomed in to capture the confrontation, framing the two men in the centre of the picture.
   "...and the situation looks extremely tense. Informed sources say that this is the same guard that triggered the siege when he produced an Uzi submachine gun from under his robes and fired on unarmed officers..."
Simmonds' voice became flat, bereft of emotion. "I can assure you, we are not responsible. And we will not be held responsible for anything which may subsequently occur, William." Simmonds' gaze was fixed on the tv screen as he spoke into the phone.
Brother Simon took one pace backward.
   "Stand Still! Armed Police!"
The APC slowed, clanking to halt in a cloud of diesel-fumes, its engine revving and then shutting down. It was twenty yards from the barrier. "...and as you can see the APC has come to a halt. I can see a couple of soldiers in battle-dress and armed with assault rifles coming out of the back and taking up positions either side of the vehicle, and they too are pointing their SA80s at the sentry outside the barrier..."
"Call them off, William. Call your men off at the front barrier."
   Brother Simon adjusted his stance, spreading his feet a little.
"Stand still or we will open fire!"
"Stand still! Armed Police!"
"...the guard doesn't seem to be responding to the police or the soldiers...wait..."
Michael and Jones rose from their seats, staring horrified at the television. The cameraman had framed the picture perfectly, and from his position the scene was clearly visible.
"Call them off." said Simmonds, lowering the telephone away from his ear.
"Stand still!"
   The drama on the television screen unfolded almost as if in slow motion. Brother Simon began to lower his arms, and in response the soldiers seemed to tense, and lifted the muzzles of their assault-rifles, aiming dead-centre of Simon's chest.
"Stand Still!" the police officer yelled again, adjusting his aim, too.
   "...there's something..." the news correspondent began.
Brother Simon's right arm slid free of his left sleeve, something long and angular clutched in his right hand.
"Christ. No." Michael breathed.
   As Brother Simon lifted his hand, holding out the object towards the policeman and the two soldiers, Michael saw it for what it was. A black, wooden crucifix.
   They heard the gunfire over the console loudspeaker and watched horrified as the three armed men fired their weapons simultaneously. After a short delay, the muted sound of gunfire crackled from the tv. The soldiers had their SA80 assault rifles set on fully automatic, and the high-velocity 5.56mm jacketed rounds ripped through Brother Simon's body, exploding from his back and tugging at the material of his robe, making the hem dance with each impact. He jerked convulsively, staggered back a pace, holding the crucifix high above his head so that it was plain for all to see, his left hand outstretched, fingers splayed wide, hand empty. And then he toppled backwards, falling heavily into the mud, the cross wavering in his outstretched hand before his grip relaxed and it too fell into the mud above his head.
   There was a brief silence, the news correspondent lost for words as the soldiers crept forward, rifles pointed unwavering at the motionless body of the guard. When they drew alongside the police officer, one of the soldiers nudged him and jerked a thumb back towards the APC, and the policeman retreated slowly out of sight.
   "They've shot him." The reporter said, the words unnecessary.
   "No shit." said Martin, his voice tinged with anger and sorrow.
   "Good-bye, William." Simmonds said into the phone, and hung up.
The camera zoomed in tighter as the soldiers approached Brother Simon's corpse, and one of them leaned down to frisk the body, searching for weapons which clearly weren't there. The other soldier reached out and picked up the muddy crucifix, turning it over and around, studying it as if it held some concealed weapon, then he casually tossed it back by the dead man's head before they both walked backwards towards the safety of their armoured vehicle.
"Bastards are just leaving him there." Jones said.
Michael was weeping quietly, and Simmonds reached out to grip his shoulder.
   "That's why Brother Simon wanted your forgiveness, Michael. He knew what was going to happen." Simmonds' voice was calm, but not unkind, and when Michael turned to look at him through the misty blur of his damp blue eyes, he could see that the older man felt the loss too.
"I never really knew him, Father."
   "He was a good man, Michael. And his death won't be in vain."
"...Peter it really is a terrible scene here," the reporter was saying, "it's difficult to imagine. I understand that the armed officer and the soldiers down there were probably tense and in a high state of alert, and possibly anticipating the guard to fire on them as they approached. But even from here, so far away, the object he was holding was clearly visible, and if we could see it from so far away I find it difficult to imagine that the armed personnel standing only about twenty feet from the barrier could have mistaken it for a weapon."
   "What about the rest of the compound, Julian, has there been any visible reaction to the shooting?"
"No, it's all strangely calm and serene, almost as one would expect of a hospice for the sick and dying. But the charred wreckage of the ITN helicopter is still smouldering below us about a mile away, the army's APCs are still clearly visible in the positions they've taken up outside the perimeter, and of course the body of the man whose life just ended in a hail of police and army bullets is still lying in the mud outside the premises he was guarding up until a few minutes ago."
"Julian Petit at the siege of St Joseph's, thank you. That's the end of this newsflash, we'll keep you updated should the situation change. For those of you who have just tuned in, the army have been called in to reinforce the siege at the estate belonging to the so-called Church of The New Millennium, where earlier today an ITN helicopter was allegedly shot down with the loss of all six people aboard. And a few minutes ago as armoured personnel carriers took up their positions around the estate, one of the cult's followers on guard duty outside the compound was shot dead by police and army marksmen. He appeared to have been unarmed, and was holding up a crucifix when the authorities opened fire. There'll be a full report at six o'clock, until then, good-bye."