Sean Chercover - The Trinity Game

God, she looks good…

Cooper thanked Julia for flying in to Atlanta for the show.

Daniel’s heart skipped another beat.

She’s here…

Cooper told viewers that Reverend Tim Trinity was a local television evangelist, originally from New Orleans. He showed a short clip from the Tim Trinity Prosperity-Power Miracle Hour . Then Julia gave a succinct explanation of the Trinity Anomaly and how to decode Reverend Tim Trinity’s speaking-in-tongues routine.

Cooper asked how Julia had learned of this phenomenon.

Here it comes…

But Julia declined to reveal her source.

For now, anyway…

She cut to the chase, said that Trinity predicted the refinery explosion while speaking in tongues during his most recent Sunday sermon.

“Have we got the tape? OK, let’s roll it,” said Cooper.

Tim Trinity came on the screen. The video ran backwards, sped up by a third, and it looked like a clip from the old Benny Hill Show . But Trinity’s voice was clear, and hearing the prediction again, Daniel cringed.

“This is simply unbelievable,” said Cooper. He introduced CNN’s top video engineer, who came on by remote feed from the newsroom and authenticated the videotape. Cooper shook his head, astounded. “So, Julia, what do you make of this?”

“Honestly, I have no idea,” she said. “I’ve only had time to go through a few of his broadcasts, but he seems to be making predictions about all sorts of things, from thunderstorms to horse races, and every one I’ve seen has been accurate.”

“You’re convinced this is real.”

“I’m not convinced of anything, Anderson. It could be the greatest hoax ever. Was Trinity tipped off to the outcomes ahead of time? Or has he somehow come into the ability to see the future? Or perhaps there’s a third explanation. We need to find out what’s going on here.”

OK, so she’s beautiful—Cut it out, and get your head in the game…

To the camera, Cooper said, “For the record, we invited Reverend Trinity on the show to tell his side of the story, but his office said he could not be reached.” Then, back to Julia, “You know, people are going to think God is talking through this guy. You think that’s possible?”

“No.” Julia shifted in her chair, clearly troubled by the question.

Of course, she would be…

“Look, I’m a reporter, not a theologian. I’m extremely skeptical of any supernatural explanation, and I’d caution against drawing any kind of metaphysical conclusions. We don’t know anything yet. We need to scrutinize and test his predictions, follow the story and see where it leads.”

“And apparently the story leads just north of Atlanta, to Highway 403?”

“That’s right. In a sermon two weeks ago, Trinity predicted that a billboard on 403 would collapse tonight—exactly twenty-three minutes after midnight—blocking two northbound lanes, but with no fatalities. Now, the fascinating thing about this prediction is that we know about it ahead of time, so it’s testable. I’ve been in contact with the Georgia Department of Transportation, and they sent structural engineers to check it out.”

“And?”

“And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with the support structure. So, barring a massive earthquake, the sign should still be standing at 12:24.” Julia slid an envelope across the desk. “They asked me not to reveal the location—they’re concerned about spectators blocking the highway—but I’ve written the exact mile marker down, and the date of Trinity’s prediction, so you can verify it after we’re off the air. Whatever happens—or more likely doesn’t—I’ll be there to see it.”

In a sermon two weeks ago… Daniel reached into his briefcase, pulled out the file folder, and started flipping through the tabs, looking for the transcript that would give him the billboard’s location.

A Georgia State Police cruiser stood in the median. A state trooper leaned back against the fender, looking bored. A few yards ahead, Julia stood talking to a young man with a video camera perched on his shoulder.

As Daniel got out of the car, Julia approached and gave him a warm, platonic hug.

“Hey, stranger.”

“Guess I’m not clear on the definition of ‘off the record,’” said Daniel.

“What’s the problem? I kept you out of it.” Julia brushed a stray hair behind her ear. “Danny, what did you expect me to do? This story is important.”

“You showed somewhat less interest before a hundred people died.”

Her chestnut eyes flashed fire. “Thanks for reminding me, it’s been at least five minutes since I beat myself up about that. Look, I didn’t believe you. OK? I-I thought you’d gone crazy. And my inaction cost lives, and that’s something I will have to carry for the rest of my life.”

She drew a sharp breath and looked away, and now Daniel could see the guilt she was carrying, the pain, and the effort to tamp it all down. “I’m sorry,” he said, “that wasn’t fair of me. You’re right, it was a crazy story.”

“Still, I should’ve checked it out,” she said.

“It’s not your fault, Julia. Anyone would’ve thought the same thing.”

“Regardless, I’m not about to make that mistake again. So I’m sorry for your hurt feelings, but this isn’t about you. Neither one of us has the right to suppress this thing.”

She was right about that too, and Daniel knew he was doing the same thing he’d done earlier at his uncle’s house: transferring anger at himself into anger at another. He had been the one with foreknowledge, and it was he who should’ve done more to stop the explosion. There was no dodging that responsibility.

He looked across four lanes of northbound traffic to the white van with a red CNN logo on its side, parked on the shoulder. He glanced at his watch, said, “Five minutes.”

“Shooter says this is the best angle,” said Julia, pointing up the median.

They walked past the police cruiser to where the camera guy stood mounting the video camera on a tripod. He secured the camera, aimed it at the lighted billboard standing across the northbound lanes, to the right of the highway, about fifty yards ahead.

At the left edge of the billboard was a giant peach, with the words GEORGIA LOTTERY in front. Next to the logo was a hip young white guy wearing a jean jacket. He had a Photoshop-stretched smile, and his face was comically distorted by a wide-angle lens. Across the billboard, a black woman with short gray hair held her hands to her cheeks and flashed a similarly impossible grin. Between them, dollar bills rained down from the sky.

The tag line read:

TODAY COULD BE THE DAY

Julia said, “Structure’s far from new, but the engineer said there’s nothing wrong with it. So we’re really not expecting anything, and…”

Daniel watched her face as she spoke. The same deep brown eyes, still sparkling with passionate intelligence. The same luxurious lips that used to take him to the edge of paradise. Gentle laugh lines now framed her mouth and ran from the corners of her eyes. And a vertical worry line creased the space between her eyes. They transformed her face from something merely beautiful into something seriously beautiful. The pretty girl was now a woman in full bloom, with a woman’s body to match. He felt an erection growing.

“Hello, Danny? You there?”

“What? Right, sorry, you were saying?”

Julia smiled. He knew that smile.

You’ve been busted, he thought.

She glanced at her watch, turned to the camera guy. “We rolling, Shooter?”