Secret Agent Minister (11 page)

Gerald leaned forward, drumming his fingers on the long cypress-planked breakfast table. “What do you think Eli’s message means?”

Dev hadn’t given them the complete message, so he looked down at his hands. “I think he’s trying to warn me. He said he didn’t do it. I believe him.”

“But…who then?” John asked, glancing around the full table. “Eli could be trying to throw you off, Devon.”

Alfred poured himself another cup of coffee and sat down by Lydia. “Alexandre isn’t talking…yet. But he has implied that he’s been in contact with The Disciple. Maybe that’s who he got his orders from, too.”

That caught Dev’s attention. “What did he say?”

“He would only tell us that The Disciple is out there and he’s after the people who wronged him.”

“And how does Alexandre know this?” John asked, his expression skeptical.

“Well, he did mention a wolf in sheep’s clothing,” Gerald reminded Dev. “That certainly sounds like Eli.”

“Or maybe Alexandre was just trying to finger Eli,” Dev retorted, trying to gauge the body language around the table. Were they all evading him? Did John’s fisted hand mean he was preparing for a fight? Why wouldn’t Gerald look Dev in the eye? And Alfred was as fidgety as a mad rooster. Did they all know something Dev needed to know?

Dev had never had any doubts about trusting the other CHAIM operatives. But now, he had to wonder if one or all of the men at this table were behind this whole sordid affair. Was someone inside CHAIM somehow connected to the drug cartel they’d busted up a few years ago? Had that same someone ordered the executions of Eli’s wife and unborn child?

It couldn’t be possible.

And what about The Peacemaker? Dev had never worked with the legendary agent, but the man was well-known in the secret CHAIM brotherhood. Well-known, but not really accessible. No one even knew the man’s real name. He was that elusive, that deep undercover. And yet, many successful rescue and recover missions had come under the leadership of The Peacemaker. Was he the wolf in sheep’s clothing?

Gerald’s words brought Dev out of his musings. “Alexandre pledges that he only wanted to scare Lydia, that he was ordered by someone very high up to scare the girl so that Dev would take her and leave.”

Dev got up, then looked around the table. “Well, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. I am going to take Lydia and leave. Only this time, I’m not telling anyone where we’re going.”

“You can’t do that, son,” Gerald retorted, shocked. “You know the rules. Operatives have to report in on a daily basis.”

“I’m changing the rules,” Dev told them. “And you’d all be wise to stay out of it. I don’t want any of you blamed for a decision I’m making on my own.”

“Why are you doing this?” Lulu asked, her hand on his arm.

“Because every time I think Lydia’s safe, someone else comes along to put her in danger. She wasn’t safe in New Orleans and she isn’t safe here. The fewer people involved, the better. I won’t put any of you in jeopardy.”

Alfred nodded, then held up a hand when the others sat up to protest. “He has a point, gentlemen. Sometimes, in the thick of things, we have to make tough decisions. We’ve all been there. And right now, Devon is thinking he can’t entirely trust us. Am I right, Pastoral?”

Dev didn’t even blink. Let them sweat. “You are, sir. So I hope you’ll understand why I have to do my job. I have to protect Lydia.”

Sally Mae nodded, then patted her chignon. “I certainly remember those days—having to do what we knew was right. The Pastoral can give a thorough report when this is settled and over.”

“It’s the VEPs,” Lydia said, her quiet voice echoing out over the room.

“Excuse me?” Lulu asked, frowning.

“Very Evil People,” Lydia replied. “Someone very evil is behind this. And none of y’all look evil.” She shrugged. “But I’ve been wrong before.”

“Oh, like VIPs, but different,” Sally Mae said, nodding. “It’s not us, honey. I stand by that.” She looked around as if to verify her words.

“I’d like to believe that,” Lydia replied. She looked shaken, but she held up her chin. “Pastor Dev will find them, whoever they are. I know that.”

“Then we should do everything in our power to make that happen,” Alfred said, nodding toward Dev. “But going off on your own—that dog don’t hunt, Devon. We need to work together.”

“Yes, together,” the others echoed, their sincerity reeking of a setup in Dev’s paranoid mind.

They all agreed so easily, Dev noted, watching for any signs of deception. But it was hard to see anything. These men were old pros, which made it nearly impossible to access their real motives. Even their wives wore blank expressions that revealed nothing.

“Why was I summoned here?” Dev asked, giving each of them a direct look. “I need to know that before I go anywhere, or before I agree to anything else.”

Alfred let out a sigh. “Pastoral, we’ve been behind you since you left Atlanta. You did the right thing, going to Kissie. She got the message out to The Disciple and now he’s responded.”

“Yes, that’s the good news,” Dev said. “But how in the world did someone get to that girl in New Orleans? How did we allow Lydia to be contaminated with a dangerous pesticide?”

“Someone is watching and working from the inside,” John said, his expression open and sincere. “We just have to find out who the mole is. There are many who want us to fail. Someone is passing on inside information, hoping to bring down this organization.”

“And that information brought danger right to our door again,” Dev said. “I thought this was a safe haven for Lydia. But the butler? It even sounds cliché to me and I’ve seen it all.”

“We brought you both here because we thought we could protect you and help you find our enemies, and we needed to stall you for a while,” Alfred said. “This place is a stronghold. Alexandre was a blunder. Someone set him up with the best of credentials, knowing that a lot of our agents pass through here.”

“How did that someone know to do that? How did that someone know I’d wind up at Eagle Rock?”

John hit a hand on the table. “Because it’s standard procedure to bring an agent in trouble here,” he said, his eyes going wide. “You know that, Devon. We brought Eli here when he…when things went bad for him. This is the resting place for agents who need a time-out.”

“So Alexandre just happened to be in the right place at the right time?” Dev asked as he leaned forward. “Exactly when I was brought here for a…time-out.”

“I’m afraid so,” Alfred replied. “Good help is hard to find.”

“We’re sorry we let you down, son,” John said. “We’re still trying to locate The Disciple and we’re still investigating all of these actions, but you’re free to go—as long as you do things by the book. We’ll get to the bottom of this. In the meantime, how can we help you?”

Dev glanced at Lydia, then motioned for her to get up. “Well, you can loan me a means of transportation.”

“Of course,” Gerald said. “We have all sorts of vehicles.”

“I don’t need a vehicle,” Dev said. “I need a plane. Lydia and I are going to fly out of here. And none of you will know where we’re going.”

“You can’t—”

“I can and I will,” Dev shot back, his glaring gaze stopping Gerald in midsentence. “Don’t make me do this the hard way. Just let us leave.”

“What about the pilot?” John asked. “He’ll need a flight plan.”

“I’ll be the pilot,” Dev replied. “And let’s just say, I’m going to fly under the radar.”

“I don’t like this, not one little bit,” Alfred said, getting up to stare across the table at Dev. “Son, you need to think this through.”

“I have thought it through,” Dev replied, his hand on Lydia’s arm. “Since I can’t trust anyone right now, I have to do things my way. And that means getting out of here.”

“We’ll have to report this,” John said, his expression grim.

“I’d expect no less,” Dev replied. “And I’ll accept responsibility for my actions.”

Sally Mae looked around the room, then she sent her husband a pleading look. “Let them go, John. We have to trust Dev’s decision and his instincts.”

Dev nodded. “Good point. But I’m only worried about one person’s opinion right now.” He looked at Lydia. “Do
you
trust me?”

She stood silent, her eyes speaking volumes as they went from bright and luminous to frightened and unsure. But behind her ever-changing gaze, Dev saw the spirit and spunk he’d come to admire. Lydia was one of the bravest women he’d ever known.

She gave him a slight nod. Then she stood closer to him, smiled at everyone in the room, looked back over at him and said, “When do we leave?”

P
astor Dev turned to Lydia. “All buckled in?”

She nodded, then glanced at what looked like television screens in front of them on the instrument panel. “Are you really going to fly this plane?”

“I’m trained to fly this plane.”

She was still in awe. People with power sure could get things done in a real hurry. “I can’t believe they let you go so easily—and gave you a private Cessna to boot.”

He was in full commando mode again, checking the controls with the precision of an astronaut. “Oh, that was just a front, sweetheart. They’ll send someone to monitor us—no doubt on that.” Then he grinned. “If they can find us, that is. But this isn’t just any old Cessna. This is a sweet Skyhawk SP, top-of-the-line. A very intelligent plane. This instrument panel is cutting edge—a G1000—”

“I’m glad you’re so happy with our new ride,” Lydia interrupted. “But I’m a wee bit concerned that we might be shot down in midair.”

He sent her a reassuring glance then nodded toward the little flat screens. “I’m not worried about that, not with this high-tech setup. Great situational, real-time awareness with both this PDF and MFD—that’s primary flight display and multifunction display in laymen’s terms. Even if they come after us, this baby will make a clean getaway. This is a go-fast plane as long as we fly her under 14,000. She gets a little antsy in dense altitude.” He actually winked at her, then gave her a Bogart kind of smile. “Sweetheart.”

Lydia let his uncharacteristic excitement and tech-notalk roll right over her, noting that this was the most the man had ever spoken to her, outside of preaching a sermon, of course. She thought about mentioning that he’d been calling her
sweetheart
an awful lot lately, but she refrained from that. Why spoil a perfectly good getaway moment with mushy stuff?

“So they let you go just to save face?”

“Something like that. As I’ve told you, CHAIM is not a violent organization. More like passive persuasion.”

“Oh, right. VEPs use the old-fashioned, killing kinds of persuasion, but y’all are just ever so friendly and accommodating. Do you really expect me to believe that?”

“We only resort to brute force when necessary—like when the man at the train station tried to gun us down—he was carrying a lethal weapon. I had to maim him, to stop him from killing you. The same with Alexandre. He’s being taken care of—but he won’t be harmed. He’ll just live to regret what he did.”

A shudder went down Lydia’s spine as she imagined Alexandre stuck in a padded room, having to learn the books of the Bible…or else. Of course, that would serve him right for trying to put a pillow over her face. “You say that with such ease. Doesn’t all this trickery and double-crossing stuff get to you after a while?”

He stopped fidgeting with the instrument panel, his hands going still on the controls. His expression told her that after enjoying a brief reprieve with the distraction of this sleek cockpit, he was now back to reality. “It did get to me. That’s why I retired. That’s why I wish you weren’t involved.”

Lydia could see the torment in his eyes. Wishing she could take back her question, she asked him another one instead. “Why do they call you The Pastoral?”

He gave her a wry smile. “I got that name in training school. Eli and some of the others said I had this look of serenity about me, always calm and quiet, like a perfect picture. The name stuck—even if it didn’t make much sense to the outside world.”

“But it makes perfect sense when you’re talking in code, right?”

“Right.”

“You know what I wish?” she asked, hoping he’d understand. “I wish you and I could have a real conversation, no codes, no deciphering, or trying to twist or interpret Bible passages, just a real conversation.”

She saw the blank wall falling across his face like a shutter slapping against a window. “Lydia, I know this is hard on you. You’re away from everything you know and love. But—”

“But when this is all over, things will go back to normal for us? I don’t think so. I’m not sure I’ll ever be normal again.” She touched one of the cool black joystick steering wheels in front of her. “I mean, I’m sitting in a Cessna, about to take off for parts unknown. I’ve gone from my first MARTA ride to my first private plane ride. Not to mention my first masked black-tie party, my first and only pair of stilettos, and my first ride on a watermelon truck. Oh, and I left out being shot at, being poisoned and almost being smothered. I don’t think there is such a thing as normal anymore.”

“Okay, I get it.” He went back to his work, a frown furrowing his forehead. “Look, I have to get this plane in the air before they change their minds and call in reinforcements. Just be aware that they’ll put a tail on us. People will be watching, waiting. It could get dicey.”

“And what’s it been up until now, a picnic?”

He let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”

She hated the way his broad shoulders slumped in defeat while his eyes filled with regret. Feeling contrite, Lydia dropped her hands in her lap. “No, I’m the one who should be sorry. I’m not usually so sarcastic and catty.”

She looked out the cockpit window, staring out into the night. The stars twinkled like a box of jewels set against velvet. Lydia felt as if she’d aged a hundred years in a few short days. But this wasn’t over yet. She’d agreed to do this. She’d agreed to get in a plane with Pastor Devon Malone, in spite of all those superior warnings they’d been given back at Eagle Rock.

“I said I trusted you,” she told him, her hand reaching out to touch his arm. “I meant it.”

“I know,” he replied, his gaze straight ahead. “And I appreciate you. So much.”

He
appreciated
her. Not a mention of love or hope or kisses. He appreciated her. Well, wasn’t that so very special. Lydia bit back the impulse to retort in kind. Instead, she said, “Well, I’m trying to work with you. I’m trying very hard to follow the commands and go with the flow. I’m sorry I got all snappy.”

“You have every reason to be snappy,” he said, lifting his gaze to her, his eyes holding hers with a blue as bright and flashing as the instrument panel. “Every reason in the world.”

Lydia remembered Kissie’s words to her, about how Pastor Dev would need someone there with him when all of this was over.

I’ll be there, Lord,
she silently promised. No matter the outcome. “I’ll try to be more appreciative myself,” she told Pastor Dev, her words quiet and level now.

“Okay.”

He went in complete shutdown mode, just as he’d done the night after she’d held him while he cried there in the roadside park. The man sure didn’t like emotional encounters. He concentrated on getting the plane going, his every action precise and determined. And noncommunicative. Lydia felt so alone, sitting there by his side in the plane, the lights from the control panel illuminating them as they started off into the summer night.

She thought about her parents back home. She could picture her dad puttering around in his vegetable garden, gathering fresh cucumbers and tomatoes for all the neighbors. She could see her mother standing at the stove, frying up chicken for Sunday dinner, stirring the fresh cream peas she would have picked and shelled herself. There would be biscuits in the oven, sweet tea sweating in the refrigerator and a pound cake with fresh peaches waiting on the buffet in the dining room. Her whole family would be there right after church.

Did they miss her and wonder what in the world had happened to her? Lydia pushed the bittersweet images out of her mind, her prayers as silent and glowing as this still night.
I want to go home, Lord. I just want to go home. But before that can happen, I need You to help me. I have to be strong. I have to get through this with Your help. And I have to remember that Pastor Dev is a good man
.

Stubborn, hardheaded, determined, noble, fearless and downright aggravating. But he was still a good man.

Telling herself all these things, her prayers echoing over and over in her mind, Lydia took a deep breath and waited, bracing herself for whatever might happen next.

After Pastor Dev had been officially cleared for takeoff—they were on the Eagle Rock private airstrip and so they got whatever they needed, per CHAIM of course—he sat silently watching the monitors, his hands resting on the twin control sticks in front of him.

The screens displayed weather conditions, upcoming terrain and just about anything else they wanted to see. Lydia couldn’t decipher much, but she saw what looked like a map on one of the screens.

“Where are we going?” she finally asked after her stomach had settled down. She hated flying, and being this up close and personal during a flight had left her a bit shaky and disoriented. But then, she reasoned, she ought to be used to getting shaky and disoriented by now.

He didn’t speak for a minute, then he said, “I’m only telling you this because I don’t want you to be surprised or alarmed. We’re going to Colorado.”

“Colorado?” She was certainly surprised and alarmed anyway. “Why?”

“Because The Disciple has a cabin there. And I think he wants me to come there. At least, that’s the impression I got from his cryptic message.”

“And what if he doesn’t show up? What if—”

“He’ll show. If he’s truly in trouble and trying to find a way out, he’ll know to come there. It’s his secret place. Not many know about it, so he’ll head there first. Either that, or he’ll at least know we’re safe.”

“How can you be sure? I mean, what if it’s another setup?”

She saw the flash of irritation in his eyes. “I
can’t
be sure, so I’m going on instinct. I know Eli. I know how he operates. He wouldn’t have risked everything by sending me that message if he didn’t feel it was absolutely necessary.”

“Okay, then. I guess I finally get to meet this notorious Disciple person.”

“I think so. Either way, you’ll be safe in Colorado.”

“Famous last words,” she retorted. Then she added on what she hoped was a more positive note, “I’ve always wanted to see the Continental Divide.”

Dev hoped he’d managed to throw them off the trail. It hadn’t been easy. After making a nocturnal stop on an “unofficial” airfield to refuel halfway through the flight, he’d been able to get them to Colorado and find the secluded landing strip that Eli had shown him years ago. And somehow, he’d handled landing the expensive plane in the deep valley between two jutting mountain ranges. That was a relief.

Now, convincing Lydia that they had to trek up the side of a remote mountain would be the next challenge. But if everything went according to plan, this would be their last trek, their last stop on this long journey to find the truth.

The truth. Dev let out a sigh, then started shutting down the plane. He had to wonder what the truth really was. For most of his adult life, he’d followed the dictates of CHAIM, because he had believed in everything the top secret organization represented, everything it had taught him—Christianity, amnesty, intervention and ministry. But now, he had to wonder if all of that was just a cover-up for a much more glaring and dangerous operation. What if someone high up in CHAIM had forgotten that mission statement? What if someone with unlimited power had taken that power and used it to his or her own advantage, without regard for the safety of Christians or God’s word?

That would explain Eli’s defection. That would explain Dev’s gut feeling that something wasn’t quite right. And that certainly would explain why someone was trying to kill him. Someone wanted his team to stay quiet. Starting with him. And maybe ending with Eli.

Because there was one glaring fact, one truth that Dev knew with all of his heart. If Eli Trudeau wanted him dead, Eli would have killed him by now. Eli wouldn’t send others to do the job.

“We’re here,” Lydia said on a rush of breath, bringing Dev out of his thoughts. “I can’t believe it. We’re back on solid ground. I just might kiss the dirt.”

Wishing he could take away her worries, Dev said, “Did my landing scare you that much?”

“Oh, not that much,” she said, her tone light in spite of her wide-eyed expression. “Not any more than those fancy dips you did, or the fact that we traveled at nearly warp speed or how we had to constantly check for fighter jets scrambling to escort us to the nearest federal facility. I’m getting accustomed to flying beneath the radar, so to speak.” Then she took another breath. “I just kept telling myself that God is my copilot.”

He smiled at that. “At least you’re still sure of the One in charge.”

“Aren’t you?” she asked, genuine concern etching her expression.

Lydia would fight all the hounds of darkness if she thought Dev was having doubts about his faith. That was one of the things he loved about her. He was beginning to think he loved a lot of things about her, but he had to block that realization out of his mind for now.

“I know God is in charge,” he said to reassure her. “But right now, I don’t know who in CHAIM is in charge. Someone is certainly trying to play God.”

“Or someone is giving a very good impression of being one of the sons of God,” she replied.

Dev felt a shiver of awareness go down his spine, an elusive memory just within his reach. “Say that again.”

She frowned. “You know—the Beatitudes—‘Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called the sons of God.’”

Dev felt the shiver turn into full-blown comprehension. He hit the steering control with such force, Lydia jumped.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, grabbing his fisted hand.

“I think I just figured out who’s behind all of this.” He turned to face her. “Remember back in New Orleans when we met The Peacemaker?”

She nodded, then gasped. “I quoted that passage to him, didn’t I?”

“You do remember,” he replied. “You were kind of out of it, but you remember?”

“I remember a lot about that night,” she retorted, her eyes holding his.

Putting their first kiss out of his mind, Dev nodded. “I do, too, but…Lydia, I think you summed this entire situation up when you quoted that passage to The Peacemaker.”