“Call Ramiel,” he said. “Did you say, ‘Call Hugo Chavez?’ ” the phone asked. “Call Ramiel,” repeated Lucifer. “Did you say, ‘Call Vladimir Putin?’ ” the phone asked. “Call RA-mee-el,” shouted Lucifer into the phone. “Did you say, ‘Call Nancy Pelosi?’ ” the phone asked. “Useless fucking piece of shit!” Lucifer snarled. “Calling Ramiel,” replied the phone. Lucifer saw a figure through the window of Christine’s apartment tossing refuse to and fro. While he was waiting, the door of the limo opened and Dirk Lubbers slipped into the seat next to him, carrying a heavy metal briefcase. Lucifer held a finger up and pointed to the phone. After several rings, Ramiel finally located the cell phone and picked it up. “Hello?” he said uncertainly. “Ramiel,” said Lucifer. Ramiel’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Master? Is that you?” “It’s time, Ramiel.” “So you want me to...” Lucifer hung up. Through the window, he saw the silhouette of a man walking up to another man from behind and pounding him on the head with a can of SpaghettiOs.
