Franco parked his car at the back entrance of the old gothic mansion that was located on the southern fringes of Paris. It was an old and very exclusive affluent area, which contained many sprawling country estates, owned mostly by men of old money.
Franco was confident that no one had seen him come here. He knew that Maria, his mistress and whore, should sleep at least eight hours more. The pills that he had given her would keep her out at least that long. The ride here had taken him two and a half hours. He knew that he had plenty of time to accomplish his plan.
Franco reached into his jacket pocket and felt the very old leather pouch inside it. He removed the pouch and slowly looked at the ancient symbols burned into the leather. He knew their meaning very well. They were powerful symbols pertaining to his spiritual father. They were words of praise and power to The Great One.
Franco had gladly accepted his commission, that he knew was his destiny and his birthright. He was extremely proud of his nobility, which was pre-ordained. Revenge was his for the taking. This time, the work would be completed. He would not fail, like his physical father had. Many people would pay for their past indiscretions and cowardice. Heads, many heads, would soon roll.
Franco opened the old leather pouch, untying the strings and unwinding the dagger from it. He looked at the steel tip of the blade that was sharpened and tempered to an extremely fine point. The blade was curved and was about two inches wide at the base of the handle and slowly tapered to the curved tip. It was about five inches long, not including the handle.
Symbols similar to the ones on the pouch were etched into the hardened steel blade. The very tip of the blade was bright red, as if stained with blood. It was permanently affixed to it and could not be washed off.
The handle was of the finest quality polished alabaster. Six highly polished perfect green jade stones were set into one side of the handle. On the other side of the dagger's handle were six bright red rubies, of the same quality as the jade stones. On the bottom of the handle were six flawless diamonds.
It was THE Dagger of Nebo. The only one of it's kind in existence. It was very powerful. It was the Dagger Major. There were six other similar, less powerful Daggers of Nebo. They contained less precious stones and less symbols than his. They were the Daggers Minor. His six Captains possessed them. They were awarded to them after completing their Worthiness Ordeal.
Franco placed the leather pouch on the passenger seat next to him. He picked up the dagger in his left hand. It fit perfectly in his hand, as if it were custom made just for his grip. (It was.) He suddenly felt a surge of energy course through his left hand, down his arm, and throughout his entire body. He raised his hand over his head and said out loud, "I will remove any and all obstacles that lay in the path ahead. I WILL NOT FAIL, FATHER. I AM INVINCIBLE!"
He put the Dagger Major back into the breast pocket of his jacket and got out of the car. He walked the short distance to the back of the dimly lit entrance of the mansion. He knocked twice on the old thick carved wooden door with the large brass knocker that had a face of a gargoyle on it, and waited. A few moments later, an old frail meek man's face briefly looked through the window at Franco, and quickly opened the door.
In a soft voice, the old man said, "Come in, Franco."
"Does anyone know that I'm here?"
"No, I gave my servants the night off. My niece is visiting for the weekend. She is upstairs sleeping, and she will not interrupt us."
After Franco entered the mansion, the man closed the large well-crafted wooden door behind them. Franco followed the man through the dimly lit mansion's corridors to the man's study. The man closed the study door behind them.
It was a large room. The wooden oak walls in the study were exquisitely hand carved. The walls were covered with bookshelves, from floor to ceiling and from wall to wall. Thousands of old valuable and obscure books adorned the shelves. A huge stone fireplace in the corner of the study robustly burned, and the room had a warm and pleasant atmosphere about it.
They sat down on either end of a large brown leather couch that faced the fireplace. They looked at each other, as if to size the other up.
The old man started to speak, but Franco cut him off. "I know why you asked me here tonight, old man. You know that I have almost enough votes to force a new government, and remove you from power. You also know that I plan on doing so very soon, and you have asked me here to reconsider. I will not share power with you, or any man. I have no intention of stealing your power in such an overt way, old man."
The old man replied, "I know of your evil, Franco. I also know of your intentions for Europe. Let us live in peace, I pray. Don't start the wars again, I beg you ...I implore you. If you try, I will see to it that you're exposed before it's too late. I know you for the Bastard that you really are Franco. I know who your real father was. I know that the Nazi Bastard was your whore mother's lover, and your real father. I know who you are! If you don't stop, I will publicly destroy you. I will not allow the terror to start again. I was too late to stop him before. This time, I will stop you before you start."
Franco just laughed, and said, "You know my Secret old man, do you? Do you also know my Spiritual Father ...and of his Power?"
Franco took the dagger out of his pocket, and the man tensed up.
"I hope you're in with Your deity, old man, because you are going to see him, very soon."
Franco quickly pointed the dagger at the old man's head and said, "You cannot move."
The man suddenly lost all control of his muscles. He tried, but he could not move, even his smallest finger.
Franco said, "You cannot stop me old man, no one can."
Franco stood up and started to walk toward the old man, but then he heard a faint noise behind him, and quickly turned in the direction of the noise. The study door had been opened, and there was a half-asleep looking young woman standing next to it. As Franco looked at her, and she at him, he noticed her to be in her early twenties. She was breathtakingly beautiful. She was wearing a long full-length, very silky and clingy, black robe, which highly accentuated her desirable sleek and curvaceous figure. Franco also noticed her long thick blonde hair, and her facial features; which were exquisite.
Franco thought, "She must be pure Arian?"
She was perfect. Long slender legs, cute pear shaped buttocks and well-proportioned pert breasts. Franco was captivated with her, and he was momentarily distracted from his business at hand.
It was obvious to Franco that the young woman was embarrassed, because of her disturbing her uncle and his guest.
She faintly and innocently said, "I'm sorry Uncle, I didn't know that you had company. I didn't know that Mr. Rastan was visiting you. I just came downstairs to wish you a good night."
Franco immediately said to her, "You know who I am child?"
"Everyone knows you, Mr. Rastan."
Franco smiled and turned toward the woman, and she then noticed the dagger in his hand, and became frightened. All the while, the old man on the couch was unable to speak, or move any part of his body. The woman had not noticed his condition.
Franco, as he started walking toward the woman said, "I was just showing your uncle the latest addition to my collection. It's priceless. Would you like to see it?"
Before the woman could say or do anything, Franco placed the flat part of the blade on her forehead, and said, "You will not resist me, girl, and you will obey my every command."
Franco put the dagger back in his pocket and casually walked back over to the leather couch and sat down again on the opposite end of the couch from the man. He looked at the woman standing there and smiled.
He commandingly said, "Girl, remove your robe."
Franco watched as the woman, without hesitation did as he commanded. She slowly untied the delicate strings of the silky black robe and opened the front of it, exposing the highly expensive silk undergarment beneath it. She innocently slipped her arms out of the robe and it slowly, like a feather, dropped to the floor around her ankles.
She wore only a short black silky and frilly teddy nightgown underneath. It looked like the garment had been hand stitched just to fit her perfect body. Every curve of her body was shown clearly through the thin silky black garment.
She was truly Venus. One of the most beautiful Daughters of Man he had ever seen. Franco's cold heart 'almost' melted.
Franco, commanding her again said, "Girl, remove your nightgown."
She put her hands on the thin shoulder straps of her flimsy nightgown and pushed the straps off of her shoulders. The thin garment slowly fell to the floor on top of the robe, revealing all her exquisitely ripe delights.
