Agents of Shadow (The Keepers of White Book 1)

by Richard Crofton

  Diana laughed again. “The same has been said about me by many agents through the years.”

  “Yet your talents are irreplaceable,” Father Paul said, stroking the woman’s ego. “You have played such a vital role in the Agency. Many respect and revere you, dear.”

  “Many have also found me… still find me… dangerous,” she said playfully.

  “I’m sure that doesn’t bother you at all,” Chief Biddle scorned. “In fact, I’ll bet you rather enjoy having that kind of reputation.”

  “I enjoy what I do… and how my actions affect others.” Diana turned and smiled at the police chief. “You should try it sometime, Bill. If you ever get the chance to feel the exhilarating sensation of true power, you’ll find it in manipulation. The human mind is a puppet. Some of us have learned how to be its master. You’re uneasy with people like me because you yourself have yet to achieve such a liberating ability.”

  “I don’t fear the controlling of people or their minds, ma’am,” Biddle said plainly. “I’m ‘uneasy’ with those who have that control over others, but can’t control themselves.”

  Diana laughed again. “My dear Bill,” she patronized, “how amusing you are.”

  “Please,” Father Paul interrupted, “my friends, we all have common purpose here. It is not productive for us to spend our time today taking verbal shots at one another.” The psychiatrist and police chief held their tongues at once upon the priest’s diplomatic command. “Now Diana my dear, though there are some who consider your methods unorthodox, the Master selected you for the Inner Circle for good reason, just like he selected the boy for the Outer. We simply don’t want him to feel dissatisfied with his role, nor do we wish him to be unaware with his importance. The Master favors him, and we feel that you are the right person to remind him of this.”

  “Of course, dear Father,” Diana answered. “I’ll speak with him. He doesn’t need to be controlled, only to be given the proper… incentive. I can promise you he’ll be given just that, and that he’ll play his part appropriately.”

  “Thank you Diana,” the priest said. “Everything should be in place then.”

  The four acquaintances continued along the path in silence for a few moments. Everyone pondered the situation in his or her own mind, knowing well that their thoughts were most likely the same. Professor Madsen was the one who broke the silence by sharing what he knew everyone else was thinking. “The fifth sacrifice… we’ve never gotten so far in the cycle before. Father, do you believe we will be successful this time?”

  The priest took a moment to answer Madsen’s question. “I’m very hopeful, as I’m sure we all are. Everything has worked out accordingly to this point. There’s no reason to fear it won’t continue to do so, as long as we remember to take the necessary precautions.”

  “True,” Madsen agreed. “There hasn’t been any unwanted interference like there was in the previous Dark Years. It makes me wonder if we actually dismantled… them. For good, I mean.”

  “The Keepers?” Father Paul stated, knowing to what Madsen was referring. “I understand they have always been a concern, given their past involvement. But our sources have not recovered any signs of activity whatsoever.”

  “How could they?” Diana chimed in. “The Keepers’ involvement in our last attempt at the Cycle was very careless. They foolishly exposed themselves. We, in turn, wiped them out.”

  “Not all of them,” Chief Biddle reminded them. “You know there are a few who survived.”

  “Always the preacher of doom and gloom, Bill,” Diana mocked again.

  “Please Diana,” Madsen answered, again coming to Biddle’s defense, “Bill is known for making sure every angle is covered. It’s what makes him an essential asset to the Agency.

  “Even so,” Father Paul commented with pensiveness, “the ones who survived were still dealt with, and they are now broken and scattered.”

  “But they’re not accounted for,” Biddle again warned. “After our coordinated attack, they vanished… untracked.”

  “They went into hiding, no doubt,” the priest answered, “out of fear. Even though they are alive, they are very few, and no longer Keepers. Our actions against them have killed their focus. Without that focus, they no longer have the ability or strength to stop us. Fear dictates their being now, and therefore they cannot touch us; not with our power and our numbers.” Chief Biddle did not reply to this, yet Father Paul sensed his undying concern, which never seemed to dissipate for even an instant. He wondered if the veteran police officer slept with one eye open, ever ready for something to go wrong. “Nevertheless,” he went on as if in response to Biddle’s unspoken worry, “as usual we will continue to take the proper measures to ensure our ceremonies will not be interfered with again. Our candidates have been under surveillance, once they’re selected, we’ve had tight security keeping watch during the ceremonies, and of course we will use the Cursed Ashes to prevent anyone from tracking the candidates to our facility. So again Bill, you should set your mind at ease for once.”

  “Yes sir,” Chief Biddle acknowledged. He knew they had little to worry about, yet his mind was accustomed to fretting over every detail. It was a trait that he never could shut off. Therefore he would continue to use it. With planning such as this, every “I” must be dotted; every “T” crossed.

  “Speaking of the Ashes,” Father Paul mentioned, “I’m in need of more. Diana, when you speak to our young friend, once you’ve regained his interest that is, please have him see me. I would like his assistance in collecting some.”

  “Of course, Father,” the woman answered. “Well gentlemen, if there’s nothing else, I should be off. I must get back to my office, but I need to stop at home first… I promised my little girl a puppy today. But I will see you all at the next new moon.”

  “I should be going as well,” Professor Madsen stated, “but I’ll be here sooner to assist you, Father. Classes will be out in another week, and as you know, I don’t teach any summer courses at the university.

  “Excellent,” Father Paul said brightly. “Perhaps you would like to attend our weekly Bible Study sessions at the church, Stephen. It will give you a chance to meet our next candidate.”

  After a few more moments of less important chit-chat, the four agents said their farewells to one another, then casually parted ways, ready to go about their daily routines, which were as common as anyone else’s.

  Chapter VIII

  The darling little girl sat Indian style in the middle of her bedroom floor. She smiled and giggled, as she did nothing but stare across her room, into the full, rectangular mirror attached to her closed door. She admired the purple ribbons in her thin, long, brown hair that almost touched the floor upon which she sat. Her sparkling, green eyes stared back delightfully at her rather pale complexion. She loved the blue and white, homely dress that she wore. It made her think of that disgustingly sweet girl from The Wizard of Oz. She never cared too much for the character, even though she enjoyed the film altogether, yet she was still fascinated by the resemblance in the mirror. “Hello,” she spoke, “my name’s Courtney. What’s yours?”

  The girl giggled again and replied to herself in the mirror: “Dorothy? I should have guessed. You look like Dorothy.” She blinked a few times, trying to bat her eyelashes in an excessively cute manner. “Well, I’m pleased to meet you. How old are you? Really? You and I are the same age! I’m sure we’re going to be great friends, Dorothy. You can stay as long as you like, but we have to keep it down when Mommy gets home. She doesn’t like to be disturbed. Don’t worry though. Mommy is usually nice. She teaches me so many neat things. Maybe I’ll teach them to you. Speaking of that, I want to show you something.” The girl rose to her bare feet. “Wait here,” she whispered to the mirror. The carpeted floor was interestingly covered almost completely with a large, brown tarp that crackled under the girl’s feet as she scampered excitedly to her closet door.

  When she came back to stand in front of her mirror
, the girl donned a large apron that was made of an easily cleanable, gray material, like the padding of a child’s Fisher Price play table. “Do you like it, Dorothy?” she asked her image in the mirror. “It’s my nurse’s outfit. I have nice, rubber gloves too, but they don’t fit me too good.” At this she showed her left hand, which was missing the pinky finger. “It’s a long story,” she said solemnly. “I was bad at school once. Mommy had to punish me. She said it was for my own good. Anyway, I have to be home-schooled now, because I’m not ready to have friends. Mommy said so. But don’t worry. I won’t tell her about you. If you’re nice to me, I’ll let you play ‘nurse’ when she gets home. She’s bringing me a special present.”

  The little girl continued her playful conversation with herself in the mirror for a little while longer, but became quiet once she heard familiar footsteps ascending the stairwell outside her room. When the door opened, the girl looked up to see her beautiful mother enter from the hallway. “Hi Mommy!” she said with precious sweetness.

  “Hello Courtney,” the woman answered. “Who were you talking to, dear?”

  “No one, Mommy. I was just playing Make-Believe. How was your meeting with your friends?”

  “Just fine, honey,” her mother smiled. “We took a walk in the park. Nothing serious.”

  “I finished my school work, like you told me.”

  “Yes,” the woman replied, “I saw it on the kitchen table and checked it.”

  “I worked very hard on it,” the girl said with anticipation for the reward that was promised to her.

  “I know you did, dear. You’ve been a good girl, so Mommy has a special present for you.”

  “Just like you promised!” Courtney reminded her mother.

  “And I always keep my promises, don’t I?”

  “Of course you do! You’re the best mommy ever!"

  “You’re such a sweetheart! And my little sweetheart deserves a sweet little playmate. Here you go darling.” The woman turned around to pick up a little pet’s carrier and put it down in front of her daughter.

  Courtney opened the gate at the front of the carrier and peeped inside. She gasped with delight. “A puppy!” she squealed as she gently pulled out a baby yellow Labrador. As she held it up to her face, the puppy licked her nose as it wagged its excited tail. “Aww, he’s so cute! Thank you, Mommy!”

  “You’re welcome honey. Now you play quietly. Mommy’s tired and needs to take a little nap.”

  “I will, Mommy,” the girl answered obediently as she kissed her new puppy on the top of its golden-furred head.

  The woman turned to leave the room, then stopped before she closed the door behind her. “And Courtney, please make sure you clean up after.”

  “I promise, Mommy. I’ll do just like you taught me.”

  “That’s a good girl,” her mother replied. Then she quietly closed Courtney’s bedroom door as she left.

  Courtney put the Yellow Lab pup on the tarp-covered floor in front of her, and pet its soft fur for a few seconds. “See?” she said, looking up at her mirror. “Mommy can be really nice… when I’m a good girl. Now we can play ‘nurse,’ and I can teach you some things that Mommy taught me.” She looked down at the little creature, which was whimpering a little because she was using her four-fingered, left hand to hold it down. “Are you ready, little guy?” she said to it with the sweetest voice. Then, from inside her thick, long apron, Courtney pulled out a dagger with a menacing silver blade and a hilt decorated with skulls…

  Chapter IX

  Megan Panco felt at peace. Sunday Mass had always comforted her. Sitting at the pew for an hour at St. Elizabeth’s was a special time in which she found her spirit revitalized after a hard and tedious week, working at a successful clothing store at the Lancaster Outlets. As an assistant manager, when you have to deal with some of the difficult customers, as well as coworkers, though the work isn’t physically draining, you come home feeling exhausted nonetheless. Especially in Megan’s case. Not only did her job require handling countless complaints and issues from shoppers and employees, but her store manager also added to much of her stress. The woman, whom she secretly referred to as “Butch,” only because Megan was a good, Catholic girl and would not call her by a more profane word that only differed by one vowel, seemed to get a natural high out of bullying her and pushing her buttons. There have been many evenings in which she would return to her apartment, after a twelve-hour shift, and call her boyfriend crying, due to the workday’s frustrations. Now however, she closed her eyes and absorbed the motivating homily delivered by Father Paul, the pastor, and all the stress was released from her bones.

  For one instant, she turned to her right to give a quick smile to her boyfriend Sonny, the patient man who listened to her venting and crying many nights on the phone. She had only been seeing him for a few months, but she was thankful that he came into her life. Indeed, she was sure that she finally found the right one; the man who would stand by her side through thick and thin. Sonny was a junior at Millersville University. He had so far maintained a 4.0 GPA, and was fervently following his own dream to continue to vet school at the University of Pennsylvania. She was sure, with his intelligence, determination, and tenacity, that he would one day have his own practice, and that if, God willing, they were to stay together, she would never have to put up with Butch again. Sonny had even suggested that she wouldn’t have to work at all… wouldn’t that be just lovely.

  Megan had met Sonny here at St. Elizabeth’s, not at Mass, but at one of the weekly Bible study meetings. According to Sonny, he had been a parishioner here for a couple of years, since he started attending the university, but he had only recently gained an interest in “furthering his spiritual guidance” by joining the Bible Study group. She found it odd that she had never met him before that fateful evening in February of this year; he was certainly not one to go unnoticed in a crowd, reaching a lengthy six-feet, four inches. His beautifully and massively muscular body was extremely well defined in every aspect, and attractively garnished with his olive-tan skin. He had sandy, blonde hair and preciously solid, dark eyes that bored into her when he looked lovingly at her, and his perfect teeth augmented his perfect smile. Her very own Superman. Megan always attended the ten-thirty Mass, while Sonny claimed he had only been to the Saturday evening ones. It wasn’t until they started dating that he changed his schedule to accompany her to church. It would explain how she never saw him before, during his two years of attendance.

  Megan still, to this day, couldn’t fathom what attracted such a model of man to her. She’d been categorized by many hopeful fellows as a bombshell herself, but having a humble personality, still felt him to be out of her league. Nevertheless, he told her she was beautiful every day, and never failed to explain how “connected” he felt with her. Even though he was a couple years younger than she, it wasn’t hard to feel the same way; they seemed to have much in common: favorite movies, hobbies, foods… they even both loved chocolate cookie dough ice cream the best, and they were both Catholic.

  Her mother would be very pleased, were she still alive, to know she had found a man who shared the same faith. “Megan,” her mother would tell her, “I don’t care who you marry. It doesn’t matter if he’s a penniless, bald-headed Buddhist, as long as he’s a good husband to you, a good father to your children, and he makes you happy. But it wouldn’t hurt if you happen to find a decent, educated, Catholic boy.”

  She smiled at the memory of her mother’s words. She missed her so much, the woman who raised her, guided her, taught her everything worth knowing in life. Losing Mom to cancer was devastating on her and her father, who had become a changed man since. He rarely spoke, drank more, and prayed less. Megan at first never failed to call her dad every Sunday since she moved away, and she would visit with him about once a month, but their conversations were short, and time together was quiet and almost awkward. She never felt that close to Dad, not the way she was close to Mom, and it was hard on her to watch him
give up on life.

  Megan, on the other hand, refused to stop living life to the fullest. Mom had told her, before she died, to do just that, to go out into the world and find her purpose, to enjoy all the beauty of this world that God set before her. She learned quite extensively from her mother’s life… and death, that life was a precious gift. Megan would never forget that. She felt that as long as she honored Mom’s memory, her spirit would live on through her. But holding fast to her mother’s final life lesson pushed her further away from her father and his inability to move on. Eventually, she called him less frequently, and the monthly visits stopped altogether.

  Now, looking over at the man she fell in love with, she believed she had strong purpose. She fantasized about a future with him, and that she could one day pass on to her children all the wonderful lessons she once learned from her own parents. She only felt a slight emptiness knowing that her future children would not know their grandmother, and she doubted that their grandfather would make much of a positive impact on their lives. Thinking of her mother, Megan found herself gently fondling the crucifix hanging from the necklace that she wore. It always helped her keep close to her memory.

  The Mass continued as normally as every other Catholic service; Megan, Sonny, and the rest of the congregation participating in the routine praying of the Nicene Creed, the several repetitions of “Lord, hear our prayer,” the standing, sitting, kneeling, singing, and so on. As they stood to recite the “Lord’s Prayer,” Megan held Sonny’s hand. She felt such warmth and compassion in his gentle grasp. Again, she turned to look at him as she prayed. He caught her eye and glanced back, smiling another one of his perfect smiles. She loved this part of the Mass with him. It was as if they were joined as one.