Above Reproach

by Lynn Ames

  “Insha’Allah, I will see you soon.”

  “Yes, you will.”

  When Sedona disconnected the call, Peter was watching her, an enigmatic smile on his face.

  “What?”

  “You continue to surprise me,” Peter said.

  “Oh?”

  “There’s a lot more to you than meets the eye.”

  Sedona shrugged to hide her discomfort. “What you see is what you get.”

  “I don’t think so. For instance, your Arabic is better than most people who’ve lived in-country for years.”

  “I’m a quick study. And you didn’t tell me you knew Arabic.”

  “I have many skills. Don’t deflect.” He winked. “Then there’s the matter of the way you seem to read people—even near strangers—with such ease.”

  “I told you—superpowers.”

  “Right. How could I forget?” Peter tapped his finger against his forehead and pretended to concentrate. “I’m trying to divine what else those superpowers entail, but I’m stumped. Want to help a guy out here?”

  “A girl likes to leave some mystery.” Sedona stood and stretched. “I took care of our ride. What have you been up to?”

  “Watching you work.”

  “Wonderful. Are you planning to contribute anything useful?” Sedona teased. She really liked Peter. He was so easygoing. His aura was so strong with Archangel Michael, it was clear he was a warrior and fiercely protective, but this tender, lighthearted side intrigued her.

  “Girls rule,” Peter countered. “My wife tells me that every day. It’s just my job to support you.”

  Sedona perched on the edge of the table. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

  “Do I have a choice?” Peter sat on a chair facing her.

  “Of course.”

  “I have a feeling I’m in good hands.” Peter winked at her. “Ask away.”

  Sedona thought about how she wanted to phrase the question she’d been pondering since the first time she met him. It seemed she would have to give something if she wanted to get something in return. She took a deep breath. How much did she want to reveal of herself? She felt as though she could trust Peter implicitly. But, just in case, she decided to do what she always did in such situations—consult the angels.

  “Archangel Michael, this is a question of discernment. Can I trust this man with all of who and what I am?”

  She waited for the reply. As often was the case with Michael, the answer was quick and brief.

  “Yes.”

  “You asked about my superpowers.” Sedona licked her lips. “Would it freak you out to know that I can ‘see’ you?”

  Peter’s eyes narrowed. “In what sense?”

  “In every sense, really. I have…abilities…a lot of other people do not.”

  “You’re psychic,” Peter said.

  Sedona winced at the bluntness of the assessment. “Yes, that’s true. I am. I am clairvoyant, clairaudient, clairsentient, claircognizant, and I spend quite a bit of time talking to angels and spirit guides.”

  “As in, you see dead people.”

  Sedona laughed. “Yes. But mostly I deal with the angels. Angels are not departed spirits. Angels did not evolve from human form.”

  “I see.” Peter seemed to absorb this. “Why are you telling me this?”

  Sedona blushed. Had she made a mistake in revealing so much?

  “Listen, I didn’t mean that I have a problem with it. Quite to the contrary. I’m just curious why you are entrusting me with this. You don’t strike me as the kind of person who shares readily of herself.”

  “You’re right about that. For one thing, Archangel Michael says I can trust you.”

  Now it was Peter’s turn to laugh. “Good to know I’m trustworthy.”

  “For another, I saw something in your aura the first time I met you.” Sedona watched the look of wariness cross Peter’s face, and she hurried on, “I wasn’t specifically looking. But it’s very prominent.” She got up and walked over to him. “That’s what I wanted to ask you about.” She ran her fingers over his chest. “It’s an area of disturbance right here.” She touched the spot where the hole in his aura disturbed his field.

  Peter flinched.

  “I’m sorry.” Sedona dropped her hand. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

  “No. It’s okay.” Peter sighed. “It was 1989 and my friend Kate”—he looked up at her—“you met her.”

  “You mean Katherine Kyle.”

  “Yes.”

  “She was in a lot of trouble. Kind of like you are now.” His eyes came to rest on her. “Anyway, it all got very ugly and it involved a shootout.”

  Sedona flashed on a glimpse of the Time magazine story from that period written by Kate’s wife, Jay. “I read about that.”

  “Probably. Anyway, I got caught in the crossfire. If it hadn’t been for Lorraine…” His voice trailed off and he cleared his throat. “If it hadn’t been for her, I would have died in the rotunda of the Lincoln Memorial. I nearly did anyway.”

  Sedona touched the injured area again and met his eyes. This time he didn’t flinch. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It was a long time ago.”

  “It still hurts you, not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually.” She paused. “Would you let me help you?”

  “How so?”

  “I can ask Archangel Raphael, who is in charge of healing, to repair some of the damage to your aura, and maybe even to some of the physically damaged tissue, if you’re willing. If not, that’s okay. I understand not everyone believes in this.”

  “Sedona,” he said gently, “I’ve lived a long time and through some truly harrowing situations. Too many, in fact, not to believe that there’s something much bigger than me out there watching out for me. I’m game if you are.” He smiled. “What do you need from me?”

  “Nothing, really, although it would be helpful if you took a few deep, cleansing breaths and cleared your mind.”

  Peter did as requested and Sedona closed her eyes with her hand hovering several inches from Peter’s shirt.

  Archangel Raphael, this warrior is in need of some healing. Please bring your beautiful, emerald green healing light into his chest. Please send your healing energy through my hand and guide me so that we might bring him some relief. Sedona felt the power surge through her right hand and let go of control, allowing Raphael to guide her. She continued in this manner until she felt the power leave her.

  When she removed her hand and opened her eyes, Peter was looking at her with awe.

  “Are you okay?” she asked him.

  “That was fabulous. I have no idea how you did that, but I feel…lighter.”

  “Good.” Sedona patted him on the shoulder and moved away. “Make sure you drink plenty of water for the rest of the day. It’ll help with the healing process.” Then she turned and left the room.

  “Yes. Six total. Right.” Vaughn stared out the window, the burn phone in one hand, while the fingers of her other hand massaged her temple, where a pounding headache made it nearly impossible to think.

  She tried to focus on the conversation. “No. Nothing commercial. I either need a private, off-the-books charter or some kind of cargo transport.” She listened for another second. “Yeah, DHL will do. How much?” Her eyes widened. “I could buy your whole damned company for less than that… Yeah, yeah. All right. It better be comfortable—I’m not as young as I used to be. I get stiff easily. And Sparky? From there I’m going to need a helicopter and a pilot with experience in Navy Seal-like moving drops. You got someone that fits the description? It needs to be someone you’d trust with your own life… Don’t mess with me… Remember, you owe me, Sparky… The Persian Gulf. I’ll tell him where when the time comes… Yeah, I miss you too. Kinda like a toothache. See ya.”

  Vaughn hung up the phone. That’s when she noticed Sedona. She was sitting outside on the ground, her legs crossed in a lotus position, her face turned up t
oward the sun. Vaughn’s stomach flipped.

  “She’s something else, isn’t she?”

  Vaughn whirled around at the sound of Peter’s voice. He came up alongside her and pointed at Sedona.

  “I just booked us a flight plan.”

  Peter didn’t acknowledge the shift in conversation. Instead, he stood looking out the window as Vaughn had been before she was interrupted.

  “Did you hear me?”

  “Yep. I did,” Peter said. “Do you have a problem with Sedona?”

  “What?” Vaughn blustered. “I don’t know her well enough to have a problem with her.”

  “Then why do you seem so ill-at-ease around her? You’re awfully tough on her.”

  “I don’t. I’m not.” I don’t know what to do about her. Vaughn walked to the other side of the room, away from the windows. “Do you have any aspirin? I’ve got a killer headache.”

  “No.” Peter continued to watch Sedona. “She’s a special woman, Vaughn. If you haven’t figured that out yet, you should try spending a little time with her.”

  Vaughn nearly choked. The last thing she needed right now was to spend more time with Sedona. The woman confounded and bewitched her and she couldn’t afford to lose focus. This mission was critical. Lives were at stake—including Sedona’s.

  “Did you hear me say I booked us a flight plan?”

  “I did.” Peter finally seemed to concede and turned his attention to Vaughn.

  “Sabastien is taking care of getting us new identities. We’ll fly first to London commercially, but on two different flights. You and Lorraine will be leaving from Miami and traveling as husband and wife.”

  “That’s original.” Peter smiled.

  “I like to stick as close to the truth as possible. It leaves less room for error.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Sabastien and Justine will also be on your flight. They’ll be posing as boyfriend and girlfriend.”

  “Hmm. A bit of a stretch.”

  “We could make them business colleagues, but I’m throwing Sabastien a bone here.”

  “Okay. What about you and Sedona?”

  “I’m taking responsibility for her. After all, as far as we know, she’s the only one of us they’ve been able to identify. She’s still the primary target. As team leader, it’s my job to keep her safe.” She said it as dispassionately as she was able and schooled her face into a neutral expression. She lost Sara on an op and she nearly lost Sage—she’d failed every important woman in her life for whom she’d been responsible on a mission. That wouldn’t happen this time. She’d see to it personally.

  “Uh-huh.”

  Peter’s tone indicted that he wasn’t buying the explanation, so Vaughn plowed ahead. “The two of us will take another commercial flight. We’ll fly from Atlanta, but it will arrive at Heathrow at roughly the same time as your flight.”

  “You really think that’s a good idea?” Peter asked. “That cuts you off without any backup. At least take a different flight from Miami. That way we’re close by if anything happens.”

  “It’s too obvious if we all show up at the same airport. I’m sure they’re going to have people monitoring air travel.”

  “You said it yourself,” Peter pointed out. “Apart from Sedona, they don’t know who they’re looking for, and possibly not even how many of us there are.”

  “I say it’s too risky. I can take care of her.” I need to take care of her. I have to prove I can do this, otherwise, I shouldn’t be here.

  Peter held her gaze. Vaughn refused to flinch. “Are you sure that’s what’s driving your decision?”

  “What else would it be?” Vaughn’s face reddened. “If you don’t trust me to run the show, take it up with the president.”

  Peter held up his hands in surrender. “Take it easy. I’m not questioning your abilities or your credentials here.” He softened his tone. “I just want to make sure we think everything through. After all, as you said, there’s a lot at stake. I’ve always been a big believer that it’s helpful to talk things over before finalizing a plan. That’s just the way I work. If that’s a problem for you, tell me now.”

  Vaughn ran her fingers through her hair and closed her eyes. She’d always been a team player, but this was different. How could she explain it to Peter? It would sound ridiculous and selfish. “No. No, you’re fine. I’m just tired and I’ve got a headache that would fell an elephant at two hundred yards.”

  “Lorraine usually has some ibuprofen with her. You might ask her when we’re done.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Where are we going from London?”

  “I’ve got an old friend who deals with a lot of cargo—some of it unofficial. He’s got us six seats on a DHL cargo plane to Kuwait International Airport.”

  “That ought to be comfortable,” Peter said sarcastically.

  “I warned him that I’m not as young as I used to be. He assured me the plane is modified to accommodate situations like ours.”

  “He does this kind of thing often?”

  “I didn’t ask. He didn’t tell,” Vaughn said. “From the airport in Kuwait we’ll take a chopper to the ship in the Persian Gulf.”

  “What kind of ship?”

  “Justine still has contacts in the medical field. One of her buddies is in charge of humanitarian aid to war-torn countries. In a stroke of pure genius and incredibly fortuitous timing, she was able to find a Red Cross supply vessel that’s heading to Baghdad in our timeframe.”

  Peter whistled. “Sometimes, it’s better to be lucky than to be good.”

  “Tell me about it. Still, we’re not officially welcome, so we’ll have to drop in under cover of darkness and stay out of sight.”

  “Nobody’s going to hear a helicopter buzzing overhead and wonder what’s going on?”

  “They would…if the chopper was going to buzz overhead. We’ll lose our air transport several miles before we reach our destination. We’re going to drop a small pontoon boat and take that to get to the ship. The security chief is the only one who knows we’re coming. He’ll facilitate our getting on board safely.”

  “Sounds like a solid plan, and it also means you don’t need my help getting from Umm Qasr to Baghdad.”

  “Nope. We’ll go right up the Tigris courtesy of the Red Cross. How did you and Sedona make out with the ground transport from Baghdad to Tuwaitha?” Vaughn asked.

  “Sedona took care of it. By the time she was done, there was nothing for me to do but sit there and watch her work.”

  Vaughn arched an eyebrow in question.

  “Her Arabic is better than most native-speakers. It seems she made some friends when she was in country decommissioning Tuwaitha. We’ve got a ride from the same guys who used to ferry her and her team around in 2008.”

  “She trusts them?”

  “From her end of the conversation, it sounded to me like they considered her family. She seems to have the ability to worm her way into people’s hearts.” Peter looked toward Sedona, then back at Vaughn. A smile played on his lips. “You really should see if Lorraine has something for your headache. I can ask her for you, if you want.” He inclined his head toward the window. “In case you’re too busy.”

  Vaughn followed his line of sight. Sedona still sat as she had been. Vaughn wondered exactly what it was she was thinking that resulted in such a look of serenity. She wished she could feel that too.

  “It’s time to make some decisions,” Astin Trulander, president of Calico Petroleum said. He hadn’t wanted to convene another meeting so soon of “The Four,” as they called themselves, but he had been ordered to do so, and he saw little choice in the matter.

  “What’s our status with the Ramos woman?” Randolph Quinn asked.

  “Our status,” Astin sneered at the little man. Since Astin had a dislike of all things Irish, he’d always resented the little prick’s presumptuous nature and distrusted him on principle. The fact that his ex-wife also was from Ireland might have h
ad something to do with that. It might also have had something to do with the fact that Quinn was essentially an uneducated street urchin who had spent his whole life making and setting off bombs in the mean streets of Dublin. Until the most recent peace agreement, he had been the Irish Republican Army’s top bomb maker—a terrorist on Interpol’s ten most wanted list. “The only reason you’re here is because Grayson wants you here. If it was up to me—”

  “Enough.” Homeland Security Secretary Daniel Hart’s baritone reverberated off the walls. “Astin is correct. As in all wars, a good general needs to reassess the battle plan.”

  Astin ground his teeth. Hart never passed up an opportunity to work in subtle reminders that he was a military man—a veteran, tested on the field of battle during the first Gulf War. He was the only holdover Cabinet appointee from the previous administration. The president cited his valor in that conflict and his reputation as a skilled tactician as reasons for retaining him to oversee the US security apparatus. In so doing, the president unwittingly gave them the perfect insider.

  “The work onsite is progressing on schedule, I can tell you that,” Randolph said, his brogue making the ‘can’ sound more like ‘kin.’ “I’m told we’ll be ready within the month.”

  US Senator from Texas Emily Kincaid, Chairperson of the Senate Energy Committee, shook her head. “It’s no good. By then, the whole thing could blow up in our faces.”

  Astin stared hard at the woman he once planned to marry. He wondered what he had seen in her. Probably just a young stud’s hormones. She was a looker and you were looking. “We can’t stop now,” he said out loud. “There’s too much at stake. We’ve been ordered to proceed.”

  “Then why are we here?” Hart asked.

  “We’re not getting anywhere with our search for Ramos, or the mysterious bunch that arrived on that island shortly before the satellite incident.”

  “They couldn’t have just disappeared into thin air,” Emily said.

  “Actually, you’re wrong about that, lass. I’ve been doing it for years.” Randolph smiled and Astin wanted to wipe the cocky grin off his face with his fist.