“SKY OVER CHICAGO — NIGHT A full moon shines in a mostly clear sky, with a few wispy clouds around it that do not obscure the view of that great, glowing orb. Below is a quiet street in a run-down part of the city— not a ghetto, but an area of stores and office buildings that are old, rather worn, but still in business after many years. It is around 10:00 o’clock, and the businesses are closed. A few lights burn here and there in the office buildings. A white Lexus drives slowly up the s...treet and then, after some hesitation, parks at the curb. The Lexus’ license plate reads: HOLY 1 The driver, REVEREND LARRY JOE TALBOT, 45, gets out. He is a somewhat fleshy man, carefully barbered and dressed in an expensive-looking suit. Talbot closes the car door and looks around at the shabby neighborhood disdainfully— he is used to better places. Then he pulls a business card from an inside pocket, and looks at the office building he has just parked in front of, as if checking the address.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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