by R. D. Brady
“Seems to be quite a few effective non-enhanced individuals in the SIA. The reports on that Mustafa Massari and Jordan Witt demonstrate equal effectiveness.” Bruce’s watch beeped. He looked down with a frown. “The reason we moved the meeting up is we have a guest coming to join us.”
David grunted. “Fabulous.”
A knock sounded at Bruce’s door. Buttoning his suit jacket, David stood as Senator Bart Shremp, chairman of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee and newly appointed chair of the CEI, strode in.
“Good, good. You’re both here.” Shremp slipped his coat off his shoulders, extending it toward David.
David looked at it with distaste. “What exactly do you expect me to do with that?”
Shremp’s face reddened.
“Sandra,” Bruce called. His assistant hurried in and took the senator’s jacket. “Can I get you some coffee, Senator?”
“Yes, black, four sugars.”
They all waited as the coffee brewed. Sandra placed it on the desk in front of the senator. “Is there anything else?”
“That will be all. Thank you, Sandra,” Bruce said.
With a nod at Bruce and a small smile for David, Sandra exited the office. Shremp watched her retreat, his eyes focused on her long legs. “Nice view you have here, Bruce.”
Bruce waited until Shremp met his gaze. “Sandra is a master of espionage who spent a decade in the field. She has more commendations by the bureau than almost anyone I know. She could kill you before you even realized she was in the room. I suggest you treat her with more respect.”
Shremp grunted. “Don’t get all huffy. Just making an observation.”
“An unnecessary one,” Bruce said. “Now, you called this meeting, what can we do for you?”
Shremp crossed his arms over his chest. “I’d like an update on your progress regarding the Omni.”
The Omni—the substance that Elisabeta Roccorio had mentioned in her recording for the governments of the world. The one that would give an ordinary human the power of the Fallen. The President had made it clear that it was the most important piece of intel she was looking for. She had multiple labs analyzing Fallen blood to no avail. Other countries across the globe were doing the same. At first David had expected them to be able to figure it out. But now he wondered if they ever would. They seemed no closer than when they started. And he knew for a fact they had recruited the top minds in the scientific communities to work on it. Well, all the top minds not employed by the Chandler Group.
Delaney McPhearson had refused to provide a blood sample, had refused to acknowledge even knowing about the Omni, never mind offering up where to find it. But the world had seen her shot, and then shot again by her own people. She claimed she had healed on her own, that the bullets were merely normal bullets. But she had kept the Secret Service agents at bay while she destroyed something on the western front of the U.S. Capitol. She refused to say what exactly it was.
At first David thought she was trying to keep the formula for herself, to keep the power for herself. But the more he watched her, the more he was coming to accept the realization that if she had the information, she was keeping it to herself because she did not trust the government with that knowledge. As he looked at the slovenly U.S. senator sitting across from him, he couldn’t exactly blame her.
“Have you made any inroads in determining what labs or personnel she used to create the Omni?” Shremp asked.
Bruce didn’t look at David as he responded. “No, we have not, although we are continuing to investigate.”
That was a bald-faced lie. They had narrowed it down to two individuals. Delaney McPhearson would not trust the information to just anyone, and certainly not to some large lab. No, it would have to be someone in her inner circle. The two most likely candidates were Danny Wartowski and Dr. Dominic Radcliffe. Wartowski had the intelligence, that was certain, but he tended to stay on the more technological side of things. David’s money was on Radcliffe. He was a hermit who lived in a bomb shelter on the Chandler property. But he had a slew of degrees ranging from nuclear biology to chemical engineering. He was also, according to reports, considered family by Delaney. She would trust him.
Shremp turned to David. “What about you? Do you have any ideas who she would have create the Omni for her?”
David shook his head. “Not a one.”
CHAPTER 11
Rome, Italy
John walked down the long hall to the Pope’s private residence. He had traveled these hallways many times, but he had no illusions that one day he himself would be Pope. He was committed to the Church, but his past indiscretions made him completely unworthy of the highest role within it. Instead, he’d dedicated himself to protecting it from all threats. And sometimes that meant keeping what he knew from the Pontiff himself.
He knocked on the door.
“Come in,” came the muffled reply. John opened the door. Pope Innocent XV turned from the window, watering can in hand, a smile on his face. “John. It’s good to see you.”
John inclined his head. “And you as well, Your Holiness.”
Innocent chuckled. “I told you there is no need for formality when we are alone. We have been friends too long to be formal now.”
“Yes, Your Holiness.”
Innocent shook his head, placing the watering can on the floor near the window. “What am I to do with you?”
“I have a report on—”
Innocent put up his hand. “That can wait. Now, come sit. Tell me how you are doing. And then you can tell me how the Church is doing.”
And in John’s mind, this was what made Innocent a great Pope. He was honestly and genuinely interested in the people, all the people. Regardless of their creed, ethnicity, even regardless of their intentions toward him. John took a seat at the small dining table and spoke with Innocent about the events of the week, leaving out anything having to do with the Brotherhood. It was established to protect the papacy, and that meant keeping the papacy unaware of its existence, even as it ensured his existence.
As John and Innocent chatted, John felt the lightness he always felt when he was near His Holiness. Each time, that feeling confirmed the rightness of his calling. Protecting the Church, protecting this man, was the most important role of his life. Because the Pope represented the power of good. And John would make sure he was able to fulfill his mission.
Innocent wiped at the sides of his mouth, pushing his plate with the crumbs of his pastry forward. “Now, on to business. I have decided that I will send you to the United States to speak with the President.”
Surprise flickered through John along with anticipation. He had been planning on asking the Pope to allow him to go. Yet again, this just proved that He was supporting his plans. “I would be happy to.”
Innocent glanced out the window, his voice soft. “The world is much changed in this last year. The existence of the Fallen has changed us all, in ways I’m not sure we even yet realize.”
John knew he was right. Although, unlike the rest of the world, he had known of their existence earlier. But they were not what truly concerned him, especially now that Elisabeta had been taken care of. No, his concern was Delaney McPhearson. Elisabeta had been gathering Fallen to her to unleash across the world. But so too had Delaney McPhearson. And her troops had not been scattered. If the reports were true, they were growing in number. And she was being looked upon as a savior.
A false one, he thought, gripping his china cup.
“John? What’s wrong?” Innocent frowned at him.
John wiped his face of emotion, shaking his head. “Just thinking of the damage Elisabeta could have caused had she not been stopped.”
“Yes. We are lucky Delaney McPhearson exists.”
“Hm.” John took a sip of tea. Innocent did not believe Delaney McPhearson was the antichrist. But then, of course, he saw the good in all. His faith in humanity was his greatest gift to the world, and in John’s personal opinion, his greatest weakness.
“If you could also try to persuade Patrick Delaney to give an accounting, that would be of great aid. I would like to hear what he thinks of all of this, being he has been closer to it than any of us.”
“You could just order him to return.”
Innocent nodded. “I could. But I believe Father Patrick is on a path ordained by a power greater than I. He has faced many trials, and I fear will continue to. But he is where he should be. But should he feel ready to speak, I would be very happy to listen.”
John tried not to be annoyed. Innocent could order Patrick to return, demand answers. He had that power, yet he wielded his power rarely. John tamped down his feelings of annoyance. The Pope was not a man who coveted power or tried to sway people to his side. But sometimes John worried his unfailing belief in free will would lead to his downfall.
And John could never allow that to happen. Patrick Delaney needed to answer some questions. It was disrespectful to the whole Church that he had not done so already.
“Now, the President will ask about our view on the Fallen.”
“Has that changed?”
“Not publicly. The cardinals believe we need to take our time and not rush to judgment in the open. We believe they are genetically gifted individuals.”
“And privately?”
“We are a religion based upon the belief that the son of God walked among us and showed us the way to move forward. Why would angels not still walk among us, especially those banished from Heaven? I believe the Fallen are how they say they are, fallen angels, and that like all people, they can choose to do good or to not.”
“And Delaney McPhearson?”
Innocent smiled slowly. “She is more difficult to identify, isn’t she? But I have been reading more in the archives, the early writings of the Church. And I believe we have done a disservice to women. I believe that Jesus wanted Mary to be the future of the Church along with Simon Peter. He believed in the equality of women. So why not send us a female savior this time?”
“Savior? You don’t mean she is the child of God?”
“A child, not the child. But I do believe she is a force of good. And we should support her.”
John was aghast. What Innocent was saying went against thousands of years of Church teachings. The last Pope who had proffered such views had died a short time later.
Innocent smiled wider. “I see I have shocked you.”
“I am just concerned. I am not sure the Church is ready to hear such things.”
Innocent shrugged. “Perhaps, but that does not mean they do not need to be said.”
“Please do not say anything until I have had time to determine any security issues that such a statement would bring about.”
“I have no intention of saying anything until after my trip at the earliest.” Innocent stood.
John sighed with relief. Innocent was leaving for a two-week trip through Asia tomorrow morning. “Good. That is good.”
Innocent clapped him on the shoulder. “Do not worry so, John. It is God’s work we do.”
John stood, bowing his head. “Yes, Your Holiness. It is.”
CHAPTER 12
Baltimore, Maryland
It had been a week since the Chicago incident. Laney had done a handful of trainings and had helped out one police department with a Fallen incident, but she’d slept every night in her own bed. It had been a long time since she’d done that for a full week.
This morning, the estate was quiet as Laney made her way down the path from the main house to Sharecroppers Lane. After Samyaza’s botched coronation, the place had been crawling with agents from almost every agency with initials. The last of them had finally taken their leave about six weeks ago, and life had started to slowly go back to normal. Well, at least what passed for normal around here.
The McAdamses being here helped. Even though they’d only been there for a week, they were now a fixed part of the Chandler family. They added a new energy that was great to be around. And Jake seemed so much more relaxed with Mary Jane close to him. The boys fit in well, and Molly, well, she’d really bloomed. Laney prayed that this place offered Molly a soothing balm to the chaos of the past few months.
Henry had started to take contracts again, after he and Jen had taken a small trip away. They were both better, but the loss of Jen’s pregnancy still weighed on both of them. Laney would catch Jen staring off into space at random times, and then she’d try to pretend everything was fine. She’d thrown herself into her SIA work. Sadly, there’d been more than enough to keep her busy.
Naively, Laney had thought that when Samyaza died, the Fallen would largely crawl back into the shadows. But they’d done almost the opposite. Reports of Fallen incidents had exploded across the globe. Thefts, assaults, murder—they all seemed to have slipped their leashes. But most incidents were in the grand scheme of things, relatively minor. The problem was that now those incidents required more investigation. Fallen would rob a bank in one state or even a country, then slip across the border and disappear before anyone was the wiser. They’d had to hire more agents and more analysts to pore over video feeds and try to get descriptions. It was time-consuming and frustrating. Laney had removed the largest threat. But in so doing, she had unleashed a slew of smaller threats. It was like a giant game of whack-a-mole. You slammed one down and three more popped up.
Laney blew out a breath, running a hand through her hair. Ugh. Tension crawled over her skin. She felt responsible for it all, even though taking down Samyaza had been necessary. The world would be in a much worse situation if she hadn’t. But damn it, it would be nice if a girl could catch a break every now and then.
Drake had been called off on another incident. It was only in upstate New York. It was supposed to be small, so it shouldn’t take too long. Laney had offered to go along, but Drake had insisted she needed some time off. She had halfheartedly argued with him, but in her heart she knew he was right. She needed a little downtime.
Spying her uncle’s cottage, she rubbed her hands over her face as if she could wipe away all traces of her tension and worries. She didn’t like adding any more to his burden. The new addition to the cottage came into view as she approached: a wheelchair ramp at the back of the house along with a widened automatic door.
Despite their hopes, her uncle’s injury was not temporary. Henry had flown in every single expert he could find. But after examining her uncle and his records, they all came to the same conclusion: There was nothing that could be done to return the function to his legs.
Laney had told herself she was prepared for that. But she hadn’t been. It had been a blow. Her uncle had always been this wall of strength, and to see him brought low, it was hard. She knew he was keeping his own fears and concerns from her. He still thought of her as the child and him the adult, at least when it came to his own emotions.
But according to Cain, Patrick had had some dark moments. Cain had been there for him during those times. Laney said yet another thank-you that the immortal had come into their lives. He had become the friend that she had not realized her uncle needed. He had been by his side for the last few months, always ready to do whatever was needed. Who knew the world’s first murderer would end up being an incredibly dedicated friend?
Laney pushed through the back gate of the stone fence that surrounded the cottage. The windows were open. The opening refrain from Mickey Mouse Clubhouse wafted out to greet her. She smiled, picturing Nyssa sitting curled up on the floor with her milk, bopping along. She loved that show.
Nyssa was the reincarnation of Victoria, Laney and Henry’s mother. It had taken a little time for both of them to adapt to the fact that their mother was a two-year-old who could barely talk. It still took her aback.
The back door opened. A tall black leopard slunk gracefully through the door. The fluidity in Cleo’s movements always amazed Laney. She moved without effort but was full of grace and regality.
Cleo stopped in front of Laney, who reached down and ran
a hand through her fur. “How’s everybody doing, girl?”
An image of Patrick sipping tea in the kitchen while Cain read the newspaper wafted through her mind, followed by an image of Nyssa leaning against Tiger while watching her show. Laney smiled. Tiger was another addition to her unusual family. Once Tiger had met Nyssa, he had refused to leave her side. And Nyssa did not want to go anywhere without her four-legged friend.
And with all the craziness in their lives, no one even batted an eye at the idea. Everybody just shifted a little to the side to make room for another giant cat in their lives.
Run?
Laney shook her head. “Not yet. I want to check on everyone.”
Later.
“Yes.”
An image of Calloway flitted through her brain. He had been the reason she’d been up at the main house. He’d wanted to discuss a draft of new regulations for the SIA. They were horrible. It had not been a pleasant meeting.
“Yeah, I saw him.”
Bite him?
Laney laughed. “No.”
Should have. Cleo brushed past her, slinking out the gate.
Laney smiled. You are not wrong. She walked up the ramp and let herself in the back door. Patrick looked up from his crossword, his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose.
Laney forced a smile onto her face. He had aged in the last few months. His shoulders were a little more hunched. There was more gray at his temples and throughout his red hair. His face was also thinner. He looked fragile. And that terrified her.
But his blue eyes still twinkled when he smiled. “Ah, there she is. How’d the meeting with old Sourface go?”
“Buttface, Uncle Patrick. The nickname is Buttface.” She leaned down and kissed his forehead.
He shuddered. “That’s a horrible nickname. I prefer mine. Anyway, how’d it go?”
Cain offered a cheek. Laney gave him a kiss as well before heading to the counter to pour herself some tea in the cup waiting for her. “Oh, the usual: Couldn’t you have used less violence? Was it necessary to destroy the skylights by jumping through? Couldn’t you have opened them and slipped in? Wasn’t there a quieter way you could have disarmed the two dozen armed gang members and their Fallen leader?”