by Mark Posey
They all nodded.
“Great. Come this way, please.” He led them across the room, threading their way through the crowd, over to the fireplace. In front of the crackling fire were two couches with a table between them. Seated on the couches were six men. All wore disparate dress uniforms.
As Alice and the rest of them approached, the men were talking and laughing over drinks. Alice ran her gaze over them. The youngest was perhaps in his mid-thirties. The oldest had to be in his nineties.
As she got close, all six men put their drinks on the table, stood and looked down at her, smiling widely.
Alice came to a stop, her gaze flitting to each of them in turn. Recognition dawned on her as she gazed at the youngest. Then her gaze flew over the rest of them again.
“Holy Jesus Christ!” Alice said as her heart soared.
Geri gasped.
Rafferty stepped right up next to her. “Alice Fisher!”
Alice looked at him, startled. “What?”
Rafferty tut-tutted and shook his finger at her. “We shall have to have a talk, you and I, about the taking of the Lord’s name in vain,” he said, in his best English accent.
Alice took a deep, mock-aggravated breath as the men around the table laughed. “Constable, a very learned scholar once said, ‘Do as I say, not as I do.’ In other words, sod off.”
Rafferty laughed. “Yeah, yeah.”
When she just stood there, staring, he added, “Well don’t just stand there. Your boys are waiting.”
Alice stepped forward to the closest. The youngest. They hugged and she kissed his cheek. Then she held him at arm’s length. “Corporal Hunter. How are you, dear boy?”
“Fit as a fiddle, Sister J.” He turned his arm and tapped the upper sleeve. “It’s Sergeant Hunter, now, though.”
Alice cupped his cheek. “Things are indeed looking up, Sergeant.”
She moved to the next man. “Colonel Lauren. How lovely to see you.”
While Alice moved around to each of the six men, Talbot and Rafferty brought four chairs over and set them at the end of the couches. By the time Alice made her way back around to them, Rafferty and Geri were seated and waiting.
Alice’s cheeks hurt from smiling so widely. As she stepped over to the chairs she turned to Rafferty, her voice thick with emotion. “Did you do this?”
Rafferty shook his head. “I wish I could take credit but...” He indicated Talbot, standing just behind him.
Talbot smiled and shrugged. “It was Grampa George’s idea. His dying wish, actually. I just ran with it.”
Alice nodded. “Dear George,” she said as she turned back to the men at the couches.
Geri leaned forward to catch Alice’s attention. “I don’t mean to ruin the moment, Alice but...”
Alice started. “Oh dear, Geraldine, my apologies. I did not mean to be so rude.”
Sergeant Hunter stood and saluted Geri. “Lieutenant, Sergeant Oliver Hunter. Under Sister J’s care in Iraq about fifteen years ago.”
Geri acknowledged the salute. “Sergeant, Geri is fine. I retired ten years ago.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Hunter said.
They went around the circle, each man introducing himself. Colonel Gabriel Lauren, whose life Alice had saved during the Gulf War. Retired Sergeant Major Peter Repond, who Alice had saved in Viet Nam. Retired Lieutenant Reginald Coble, saved in Korea. Corporal Lance Enders, also from the Gulf War.
All eyes fell on the last man, clearly the oldest. He cleared his throat, propped one hand on top of the cane he carried and struggled to his feet. “Retired Private First-Class Clifford Cunningham.” His voice was gravelly, and tears glistened in his eyes. “Alice made sure I survived the Battle of the Bulge. Lost a lot of friends that day. Because of her, my great-grandchildren have a great-grandfather to spoil them rotten.” Love and gratitude shone in his expression.
Rafferty leaned forward to catch her eye. “That finger of yours has been busy.”
Sergeant Major Repond stiffened and smiled. “She’s still doing that? Freakiest thing I ever saw.”
A chorus of agreements washed over the group and the men began swapping stories about their experiences with Sister Jacobine, laughing and toasting their good fortune.
Alice watched all of them with undisguised affection. She felt Geri nudge her and lean in close.
“Seems pretty rewarding to me,” Geri whispered.
“There was one other thing,” Talbot said as he stepped through from behind them. He placed the wooden box from the safety deposit box on the table in front of Alice and when he turned back to face her, he held out an letter-size envelope.
Alice took it from him curiously and unsealed it carefully. She slid the letter out, unfolded it. She scanned down the page. The space for the signature was empty.
“It took him three nights to dictate this to me,” Talbot said. “Made me write it down word for word. His stamina was pretty low and we had to stop each night before you arrived. He wanted you to be surprised.” Talbot smiled. “I had typed it up and went there that night to get him to sign it.”
Alice glanced up at him from the letter, her vision blurred from the tears in her eyes. “I am most definitely surprised, Lord High Constable. I fear my emotions may make it difficult to read at the moment.” She turned in her seat and held the letter out to Geri. “Geraldine, would you read it for me...aloud?”
“Of course,” Geri said as she took the letter and wiped away tears of her own.
“Dear Alice,” Geri began. “Well, here we are. Over one hundred years since you saved the four of us in our hospital beds. And not just from those German soldiers.
“Now, you know I ain’t really one for the mushy stuff. Never have been, and I don’t s’pose I have enough time left to learn now. That’s fine. I ain’t never needed it or missed it. Though, I s’pose Florence prob’ly would have liked it if I had.
“That was my one regret in all of this. That she never got some of that blood of yours. She’s been gone close to forty years, now, and I still miss her most every day. But I guess I’ll get to see her again real soon, huh?
“I wish you had met my Florence. You woulda liked her. Just as much spunk as you but a little less ornery. I wish Craig hadda met her, too. She’d’a kicked his ass for him, but good.
“Just kidding. He’s a good boy. Always has been. I been glad to know him, even if he is a Fed.
“Alice, there ain’t no way any of us four guys could ever repay you for what you done. We was just scared kids when we was brought to that hospital. Scared a being so far from home, scared a being hurt, scared we was gonna die. After you got through with us, none of that stuff was a problem ever again.
“When the four of us found out we was being shipped home, we made us a little deal. We each chipped in and got you a present. It ain’t much but we know you’ll like it.
“If my great-grandson got done what I asked him to do, you should be sitting there with a bunch of guys just as lucky as us. You can share it with them if you want.
“Guys, y’all take good care of Alice. She gave all y’all the greatest thing ever. When all you young whippersnappers get to be my age, you’ll understand. Until then, y’all watch out for her. You’re all she’s got.
“George.”
“I think you are very good at ‘the mushy stuff’, George,” Alice said after a moment, her voice so thick with emotion she barely recognized it. Alice’s face was wet from all of the tears rolling down. The letter shook in Geri’s hand as she handed it back.
Alice took it and folded it carefully, slipped it into the envelope and then into her bag. Everyone stared at the scuffed wooden box on the table. None of them said a word.
Finally, PFC Cunningham could contain himself no longer. “What’re you waiting for, Sister? Open it up!”
Alice wiped the tears from her eyes and from her cheeks and nodded. “I suppose there is no time like the present.” She sat forward and lifted the box into her lap. She undid t
he clasp on the top, eased the lid up and peered inside. Her eyes got bright and she glanced up at the six men around the table.
“What? What is it?” Corporal Enders asked.
Alice lifted the bottle out of the box and looked at the label. She giggled. “Italian Grappa Brandy.” She giggled again. “This was always my favorite, back then.”
“Back then?” Colonel Laurin said. “Do you mean that bottle is from World War One?”
Alice nodded and peered at the label. “Nineteen thirteen, to be precise.”
As a group, the six men in front of her, as well as Geri, Rafferty, and Talbot, all shot back whatever remained of their drinks. Although, Alice did spy PFC Cunningham emptying his glass into the plant that sat in the corner by his end of the couch. They all looked at Alice expectantly.
Alice coyly pressed the fingers of one hand against her chest. “Gentlemen, he said I could share it with you if I wanted...not that I had to.
“Uh...Sister J.,” Hunter said and tapped his sergeant’s stripes again, “I don’t wanna pull rank on you or anything—”
PFC Cunningham interrupted him. “Sonny, if anyone’s pulling rank here, it’s gonna be me.”
Alice looked up at Talbot and held the bottle out to him. “Lord High Constable, would you do the honors?”
*
“Issa good thing we got rooms here,” Rafferty slurred. “None of us is fit to drive.”
“Speak for yourself, Constable,” Alice said. “I am positively agog with good spirits.”
Geri giggled. “Agog?”
Rafferty held up two room key cards. “Now, which is for which?”
“Give them to me, Constable. I shall render this mystery inert.” Alice held out her hands for the cards.
“You’ll do what?” Rafferty said as he handed over the key cards. He glanced at Geri.
“She can do it,” Geri mumbled. “She’s agog.”
Alice had a bit of trouble sliding the card into the slot. The LED above the lock flashed red and Alice wrenched downward on the handle. The door remained locked. “Must be t’other one.”
She slid the other card in, the LED flashed green. Alice wrenched again on the handle and the door opened. She turned back to hand Rafferty the other card and the door closed.
“Bollocks!” Alice cursed.
Geri covered her mouth, amused.
Alice slid the card into the slot again. The LED above the lock flashed red and Alice wrenched downward on the handle. The door remained locked.
“Good Christ in Heaven, I have given you the wrong card, Constable.”
Rafferty gazed drunkenly down at the card in his hand.
Alice snatched it away and shoved the other at him as she stuffed her key card in the slot. The LED flashed green and she opened the door. This time, she slammed it open and held it against the wall as she peered inside. “Now, where is that infernal light switch?”
Rafferty stepped forward to show her as a micro-thin red beam of light crossed the room, making a red dot on Alice’s chest. The red dot moved up from Alice’s chest and momentarily blinded her as it passed her eyes.
“Jesus Christ,” Rafferty said and fumbled to get his Glock out of his holster.
“I bring you greetings from His Holiness,” the nurse’s aide said from the armchair where she sat.
“Carmen?” Alice said.
“Put the gun down, Carmen!” Rafferty roared.
“Go fuck yourself, Detective,” she said.
Rafferty fired at the same moment Carmen fired.
Alice saw the muzzle flash. Saw Rafferty’s shot punch into Carmen’s chest. Felt the bullet slam into her own forehead.
Utter blackness enveloped her.
*
Her eyes fluttered open. She had no idea where she was. It was dark. She was in some sort of bedchamber, she supposed. Clearly, she was in a bed but that is where the similarities to a bedchamber ended. She turned her head to the right and her gaze fell on an array of shiny poles with boxes mounted on them. Judging by the noise, the boxes must be birdcages, but they were like no birds she’d ever heard in her lifetime.
To her left, two lounge chairs sat against the far wall. She had a moment to wonder who on God’s green earth would put lounge chairs in a bedchamber before a figure in one of the chairs moved. A male figure.
There was a man in the bedchamber she slept in!
Panic rushed through her. Terror gripped at her. She tried to sit and found she could not move. Straps bound her in place. She became even more frantic. She had to get away.
The door thrust open, bathing the room in light from a hall. Footsteps padded into the room.
She lifted her head up and saw a woman carrying a cup. The woman smiled brightly, and relief washed over Alice. Surely, this woman would help her get away.
“Look who’s awake. You had us worried there for a while. How are you feeling?” She moved to the man in the chair and gave him a shake. “Marty. Marty, wake up. Alice is awake.”
The man surged out of the chair and to her bedside.
Alice could feel her panic rising. She pressed herself into the mattress as he reached for her.
“Oh man, are we glad to see you. We weren’t sure how you were going to recover from that shot to the head.” He was smiling.
The woman was smiling.
These people clearly meant her no harm.
The woman touched the wall beside the doorway and the room lit up with the power of ten thousand candles.
Alice pressed her head down into the pillow and scrunched her eyes shut.
“Yeah, that really is too much light for this time of night, isn’t it?” the woman said, and the light vanished as instantly as it had appeared.
Realization came to Alice. Could this be heaven? She did not remember dying.
She opened her eyes. The two of them looked down at her, still smiling.
“Alice? Everything all right?” the woman asked and placed a hand on her shoulder.
Alice looked from one to the other. She supposed she’d have to speak to them eventually. She took a deep breath and focused on the man. “Thou doth possess an odd manner of speech, kind sir. From whence do you hail?”
The man looked stupefied. “Philadelphia,” he answered haltingly.
“I know not this Philadelphia. Is it on the continent, perhaps?”
“Continent?” he asked.
The woman furrowed her brow. “Alice, can I ask you a question?”
“Most assuredly, fair lady.”
“Can you tell me your name?”
“Alice Fisher. I took the name in tribute to the Prioress.”
“Great.” She pointed at the man. “Can you tell me his name?”
Alice looked at him closely and shook her head.
“That’s okay. How about my name?”
Again, Alice looked closely and shook her head.
“Do you know where you are?”
Alice considered and took a deep breath. “It seems rather...presumptive but, ‘tis a magical place. Is this Heaven?”
The man rolled his eyes and groaned. “Oh man…”
“Easy, Marty,” the woman said. “Alice, how old are you?”
Alice knew this one and sat back confidently. “Twenty and three years. It was just my day of birth.”
The man scrubbed his fingers against his forehead and scrunched his eyes shut. “That can’t be good.”
Suddenly, the door to the room was thrust open and an enormous man rushed into the room. “Jacobine,” he said as he saw her, “you must come with me. Immediately.”
The man who had been sleeping in the chair stepped forward and put his hand on the huge man’s chest. “Hang on a sec, pal.” He squinted at him. “You’re one of Bob’s men, aren’t you?”
The large man nodded. “Si. Vincenzo. I am His Holiness’s Head of Security.”
“What’s the problem?” the man asked.
“I must have Jacobine’s help.”
“What
for?”
“Roberto is missing.”
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About the Author
Mark Posey is a thriller writer born, raised and living in Edmonton, Canada with his wife, author Tracy Cooper-Posey. He is a retired professional wrestler and father of four – Terry, Matthew, Katherine, and Ashley. He likes cooking, woodworking, and watching hockey when he’s not scrolling through social media or taking an afternoon nap with his three cats – Pippin, Merry, and Strider.
Other books by Mark Posey
For reviews, excerpts, and more about each title, click here.
Thomas Billings Thrillers
Saving Grace
Fall From Grace (Coming soon!)
Coup de Grace (Coming soon!)
A Nun With A Gun
Feet of Clay
A Port in the Storm
Excommunication
Requiem Mass
Den of Lions
The Narrow Gate
Copyright Information
Published by Stories Rule Press Inc.
Edmonton, Alberta, Canada.
Registered offices:
1100-10020 101A Avenue NW
Edmonton AB T5J 3G2
This is an original work by Mark Posey
Copyright © 2020