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  Both puzzled and curious by the strange visitor, Vick felt compelled to ask why the giant cop wanted to see Pastor David. “What do you need to talk to Pastor David about?

  A grunt accompanied by a scowl was the big cop's initial response. The cop turned to leave, answering Vick’s question in a gruff tone. “Just have him send me a link.”

  Vick watched the door close, the automatic bell ringing briefly to announce someone had left. A lifetime of criminal activity and idle living before seeing the light allowed Vick to sense things others would never recognize.

  This Inspector Sullivan was not a man to be trifled with. That and the Inspector's visit has something to do with the disappearance of his friend and co-worker, Katrina.

  HIS MIND WAS STILL hazy from the drugs making his stomach queasy. Marshall's thoughts flitted back and forth between battling the urge to throw up as the hovercar sped to the Chancellor's Mansion and an explanation for the deal he had potentially just struck.

  Saundra would object at first. Then her mind would start working. She would see the possibilities of his plan. The only issue left to address was what to do with this Sullivan character.

  A detail or two anonymously called in to the local police would lead Sullivan straight to the ring of kidnappers. Katrina would be found and returned to Saundra. Marshall’s life would be restored to what little normalcy he could claim. It was possible during the raid, given this inclination for extreme violence Sullivan was known for, that Katrina might be killed, collateral damage as it was referred to.

  He didn't like the idea, but it could be used to serve the advancement of Saundra's career. Sympathy for a morning mother was a powerful force in politics. There was also the advantage that any trace of the deal or the underlying political forces involved would be eliminated by virtue of those who were a party to anything were dead.

  The safest option was the one Saundra would resist the most. To merely let his plan play out. Katrina would return home. Saundra would become the regional governor. When the uprisings started, she would return with the full military might of the Alliance behind her to crush the upstart rebels. The contrast between the “Iron Chancellor” and the handpicked weakling who’d replaced her would be stark, giving Saundra political leverage to wield as she climbed up the Alliance’s political ladder.

  The money would not be an issue. It was a significant amount, but Marshall had been skimming funds from assorted PACs for just an emergency like the current situation. A call here, a call there, and the rest would be raised without any trouble. None of the owners wanted a labor war that could lead to unforeseen problems and destruction.

  A sudden jolt as the hovercar passed over a large pothole was the final straw. Marshall surrendered to the inevitable and vomited the contents of his stomach, adding stains and pungent odors to the damages already inflicted on his expensive suit.

  THE MORE I THOUGHT about things, the more contorted they became in my mind. I liked women. A lot. But lady luck or God, one or the other, seemed to have other things in store for me. It was hard not to feel that way because my luck with women was lousy. I’d long ago reached a point where I’d decided relationships were not worth the pain and trouble they caused.

  Sarah was different. I’d saved her and in doing so, saved myself. The guilt I’d felt over the mistakes I’d made that led to Sarah’s sister Maria’s death at the hands of a monster had nearly done me in, professionally and personally. Saving Sarah from the clutches of another monster had brought me redemption.

  It gave me a reason to worry about another human being again. Worry in a good way. What had started out as a simple means to keep an eye on the troublesome clone had become something more, something good. Sarah was growing and maturing into an excellent cop in her own right. Her genetic enhancements, which Sarah didn’t always understand or have control over, combined with her powers of observation produced hunches that were uncanny in their accuracy.

  She was truly my partner, the best I had ever worked with in my entire career as a law enforcement officer. I was even willing to admit it was good for me to have someone other than myself to be concerned with, not that I'd ever admitted that to Father Nathan.

  Sarah became a beacon of purpose in the blackness that was my life.

  Why she was angry with me was beyond me. I had not chastised her for anything that could upset her since we’d arrived on Athens II.

  That left Katrina.

  I wasn’t sure how I felt about learning Saundra had gone behind my back and used my DNA to clone a child. Now that I knew I had a child, a strange compulsion to find Katrina filled most of my waking thoughts. If we weren’t in time, and it wasn’t looking like we would be, I would kill everyone who had a hand in Katrina’s abduction and ultimate fate.

  Father Nathan in his roundabout manner seemed to be trying to tell me Sarah's funk was related to the sudden knowledge of Katrina. Why this would be an issue for Sarah was a puzzle. I would have thought she'd be glad to meet Katrina. The two could become friends as they shared a secret that could cost each of them their freedom, their lives, or both.

  Sarah's dislike for Saundra was easy to understand. The woman had lied to me for years about the existence of Katrina. That is if you consider the omission of the truth a form of lying.

  Then there was the disappearance of this Pastor David. He had to have some information that would be helpful in locating Katrina’s whereabouts.

  I felt terrible about Mitch too. There have been more sources than I can count that I wouldn't lose the first minute of sleep over if my squeezing them led to a beating or worse. But Mitch was a good guy who was doing nothing more than trying to earn a living. When I found the two goons responsible, they were going to feel more than a little of Mitch's pain.

  A glance at my comm told me it was late. Walking around in the heat was accomplishing nothing. I stopped to get my bearings. A quick check of the GPS on my comm gave me a rough idea of how to get back to the "no-tell motel" we were staying in.

  The street was deserted when I turned around to make my way back. It was dark. Every other street light was broken, casting shadows on the buildings and sidewalk. Most of the lights of the businesses were dim or burned out, creating an eerie effect, mixing colored lights with the dim yellowish-white of the streetlights.

  I could hear Father Nathan’s voice in my mind, declaring the presence of such darkness to be evil, that nothing good would come of it.

  For once, I figured he might be on to something.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  His office had been entered. Someone had touched his things in his absence. A quick examination of the small, cramped space revealed the likely culprit had been Vick. He'd moved items on the desk in order to examine the low-tech calendar planner beneath. Pastor David closed his eyes for a moment and calmed himself. Vick was not much for writing things down. So long as the ex-con was able to follow his routine he was a reliable worker. Vick finished what he started and was thorough. His gruff demeanor kept people at a distance, and Pastor David was okay with that. It didn't diminish the work Vick did nor limit the man's effectiveness in the ministry of the church.

  Life was a teacher of hard lessons. One of those lessons was when you're hungry or sick, you don't have the luxury of demanding pleasant customer service while getting a handout. Vick might be unpleasant, but nobody who came to the soup kitchen went hungry when it was his day to be in charge. That counted for something to the people who relied on The New Light Church to eat.

  As he rearranged his desk, Pastor David saw the handwritten note with a card attached. He quickly recognized the scrawl as Vick's. The name and comm number on the card gave him pause. An Inspector Thomas Sullivan had called, looking for him. According to Vick's note, the Inspector had questions about Katrina.

  The missing Katrina.

  It was a shame what had happened to the young woman. She was gracious and kind, always ready with a kind word or a smile. Katrina volunteered for long hours and ne
ver grumbled or complained about the work or the people she dealt with. She could even get the ever grumpy Vick to smile and laugh at times. She was beloved by the people in the neighborhood, and it was easy to understand why.

  Katrina was one of those people you don’t replace.

  “WHEN WE GET THE ORDER, the first thing I’m going to do is slice that pretty little button nose of hers right off.”

  Bert ignored Broken Nose, keeping his focus on the program he was watching on his tablet.

  “Did you hear me, Bert?”

  “You’re going to cut her nose off,” Bert mumbled in reply, still not looking up from his tablet.

  Warming to the idea and having gotten acknowledgment from Bert, Broken Nose continued expounding on his murderous fantasy. "Then I'm going to start whittling away, a little at a time. Not in any one place mind you. I'll spread the pain about. A little here and a little there, you know, so she can't control the pain by focusing on it. There'll be too many places where she's hurting."

  “You need to stop thinking like that,” Bert said, looking up from his tablet. “What if the word is to let her go.”

  "You know, and I know that ain’t gonna happen. First, she’s done seen our faces. Second, why would the boss man give her back? Either the girl’s old lady comes through, which I don’t see how she can, or she doesn’t, which is by far the more likely scenario. We have to off her.”

  Bert focused his gaze on Broken Nose.

  Barely able to conceal his feelings of animosity, Bert spoke in a measured, even manner. “Now look here,” he said. “You don’t make decisions. The boss man does, and I’m tellin’ you, if the boss man says not to hurt the prisoner, we don’t even try.”

  “The boss man won’t care,” Broken Nose answered cheerfully. “Once I’ve cut her nose off and cut on her a few places, I’m going to have fun with her. Then I’ll off her.” Broken Nose looked up at the ceiling, leaning back in the cheap metal desk chair he was sitting in. “I just haven’t decided if I’m going to cut the mutt and let her bleed out or if I’m goin’ to strangle her.”

  “You aren’t doing either,” Bert ominously answered. “If there’s any killin' to be done, I'm doing it, and it will be quick and as painless as I can make."

  “Say’s you and who else,” Broken Nose shot back.

  “Don’t make me have to hurt you again,” Bert answered calmly. “I might not show any restraint this time.”

  The pair stared hatefully at each other for a moment. Broken Nose grunted in disgust and left the room to get something to eat. Bert stared at the open doorway, wondering why he still put up with his partner.

  If the time came, he might very well kill Katrina. But she wouldn't suffer, and he certainly wasn't going to let his partner cut her up.

  SAUNDRA TRIED TO CREATE the appearance she was concerned about her right-hand man. The task was beyond her though, and she knew it. Like all successful politicians she could fool most people, but Marshall wasn't most people. Now was not the time to let doubt creep into the man's mind. Too much depended on his loyalty. To hide the fact the stress was weighing so heavily on her mind, Saundra was standing by the view screen, her back to the Ambassador.

  “Do you think he bought it?”

  “I can’t be totally sure, but yes, I am certain he’s at least considering the offer.”

  Vanzetti considered the scheme Marshall had concocted. She had to admit, it was one of his better backroom deals. Katrina was returned, and the crisis averted for now. She would engineer the victory of a puppet to take her place as Chancellor and move on to the regional assembly as a Governor. Once gone, the crisis would return, her replacement blamed by the people and the owners of the mines and processing plants, further bolstering her political image as the Iron Chancellor. With the full backing and military resources of the Alliance behind her, Vanzetti would return and crush the uprising and restore order.

  Her future would be bright. She could reveal Katrina’s existence and play the mother’s card to show the Iron Chancellor had a softer, compassionate side as well.

  “Do we have the funds ready?”

  “I will need a bit of time to convert them to cash, but yes, the funds are available,” Marshall replied confidently.

  “This is one of your best schemes, I must admit,” Saundra said, offering rare praise to the man she relied on and owed so much to. She didn’t have to turn around to know the man was smiling as a result of those few words of praise.

  “There are some other considerations, some other variables you might want to consider,” Marshall informed her.

  “What might those be?”

  "We could tip Sully off and let him recover Katrina. The man is relentless, and from what my sources on the streets tell me, he's growing close to uncovering the group behind this. He's questioning the right people."

  “Why would we do that,” Vanzetti asked.

  “We could retrieve Katrina, save the funds for future, unforeseen needs, and, to be frank, from what I’ve learned of this Sully, he is very likely to kill everyone involved instead of arresting them. It would plug any possible leaks about our activities.”

  “I see.” Vanzetti considered the option for a moment.

  “We could tip Sully off after the fact. Let him clean things up once the elections are over and I’ve been elevated to the regional assembly.”

  "Good idea, Saundra," Marshall admitted. "Let me mull it over and consider how to go about manipulating this man into doing what we need to be done."

  “You do that, my friend,” the Chancellor said. “Now leave me. I must have solitude to think.”

  Recognizing his dismissal for what it was, Marshall left quietly. Saundra would need time in private to gloat over her impending victory.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  there was no sense in putting it off any longer. I knocked on the door to our rooms, figuring I might as well get it over with. The door opened, and Father Nathan emerged, showered, shaved, and fully dressed in his clerical clothing.

  “Took you long enough,” he quipped. “Sarah is waiting for us at the diner.”

  “I thought I said not to let her roam last night,” I admonished.

  “I didn’t,” Father Nathan replied with equal harshness. “When the sun came up I wasn’t going to fight Sarah about it anymore. I told her to meet us at the diner at 0730. You’ve made us late.”

  Neither of us was in the mood to talk I suppose. We marched in silence to the unfortunate meeting place. I cringed at the sight of the annoying waitress who according to Sarah had a crush on me. I was able to see her through the large plate glass window talking to Sarah who was seated in a booth. It troubled me to be able to see her so plainly, something she usually never allowed.

  I ignored the cheerful greeting from the waitress and sat down across from Sarah. Father Nathan smiled at the waitress, apologized for my grumpiness, and ordered breakfast for all three of us. Sarah, who had finished talking with the waitress, looked out the window, ignoring me in the process.

  “What is your problem,” I asked. Sarah didn’t look at me or respond.

  "You've been acting strange the last few days," I said needing to just to get it out in the open. "What is eating at you?"

  Sarah's head swiveled around quickly, and she squinted, narrowing her eyes, in the process filling them with an intensity that was a bit unnerving.

  “You should know,” she finally informed me.

  "I should know?" Flabbergasted, I prepared to launch into a diatribe on the mysteries of the female mind in regards to the male of the species. That we as human males were incapable of reading the thoughts of the females of our kind. Father Nathan spoke up, saving me from incalculable stupidity.

  “Save it for later you two,” he commanded. “I fully realize I’m not the investigator in a real world, secular sense, but of the three of us, I am by far the most in tune with the Holy Spirit.”

  I was not in the mood for a lecture about religion and started to l
et Father Nathan know what I felt about it.

  “Sully, just be patient. I have a point that needs to be made.”

  It seldom served any useful purpose to argue with the good Father, and upon closer examination, it was apparent my friend was not in the mood to take guff off anyone. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot. He’d gotten as much sleep as I had.

  “In the book of Acts it says I know that after I leave, savage wolves will come in among you and will not spare the flock. Even from your own number men will arise and distort the truth in order to draw away disciples after them.”

  It was Sarah’s turn to look at Father Nathan with a strange expression. I know I was.

  I was in the mood to be rude, so I was. "What are you getting at? That makes no sense," I complained.

  “Things have been bothering me,” the priest replied. “Sort of like the way things bother you when you get a hunch, but rather, in my case, spiritual discernment.”

  This sort of thing never made any sense to me, and I'm sure it registered on my face.

  "Something is wrong, Sully. None of this makes any sense. The kidnapping, the demands itself, the lack of help of any kind in looking for Katrina. We've been left stumbling about in the dark. All we know is Katrina volunteered at The New Light Church, and she disappeared in this part of town. Am I right?"

  "She escaped," Sarah reminded us. "Her guards are dead. It makes sense that she's been retaken prisoner or Katrina would have called her mother, gotten word to her somehow that she was okay."

  "It's more than that," Father Nathan mumbled. "This whole mess. You were summoned by Vanzetti, an old girlfriend of yours, and you find out you have a daughter. You know it’s possible Katrina just favors you in appearance, Sully. She might not be your clone daughter.”

  “Do you have a point to all this rambling?”