by Mark Posey
Alice closed her eyes and sighed. “Constable, you really should not be telling everyone—”
“I didn’t tell everyone. I told Rachel, then swore her to secrecy, just like the rest of us.”
Rachel wheeled herself inside and pulled up to the table beside Alice. She rested a hand over Alice’s. Her eyes were full of tears. “Thank you for what you did for Chrissy. Even just for that, you are my her—”
“Do not finish that sentence.” Alice pressed her lips into a thin line.
Rachel pulled back as if she’d been slapped. “But why? What is so wrong with being a hero?”
Alice was resolute. “I only did what was necessitated by my presence. Nothing more.”
“For what you have done I will always praise you in the presence of your faithful people. I will hope in your name, for your name is good.” Rachel smiled.
“Do not speak of me as though I am God’s equal, child. You cannot sway me with your memorized bible verses.”
Rachel looked confused.
“Do you not understand, child? The only reason I came to your attention was because I killed someone who was a threat to someone I cared about. Even if it was one of those soldiers in Italy in that blasted photograph.”
Rachel swallowed. Her gaze fell to her lap.
“And yet, I have been present when every single person I have ever cared about died. I shall be at your funeral. At the Constable’s funeral. At Geraldine’s funeral. I shall look exactly as I look now, and as I will look at Christine’s funeral and at her grandchildren’s funerals.” Alice clenched her jaw, the lump in her throat painful.
Rachel had a sour look on her face when she raised her gaze to meet Alice’s. “Well, don’t we feel sorry for ourselves. I believe you have misunderstood.”
“What in the name of all that is holy do I not understand?”
“You didn’t come to my attention because you killed someone. You came to my attention because you saved someone. And you have done that time and time again.”
Alice grunted and waved Rachel off.
“Each and every one of those people you saved has had children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren to live with and laugh with and cry with. And who, one day, attended their funerals to celebrate the life that you saved. You have forgotten all of the joy and love and life that you leave in your wake.”
The lump in Alice’s throat grew as she smiled at Rachel, grateful. “Life never ceases to astonish me.” She laid her hand on Rachel’s forearm. “Thank you, my dear sister.”
Rachel’s eyes filled with tears and she beamed at Alice.
“Okay, now that this meeting of the mutual admiration society has been adjourned, I have a question,” Mike said.
They all looked at Mike expectantly.
“Who the hell were those guys?”
“Yes, well...” Alice cleared her throat and scratched her forehead, grimacing. “They were members of the Vatican’s--for lack of a more appropriate term--Black Ops team.”
“This just gets weirder and weirder,” Rafferty said. “The Vatican has a Black Ops team?”
“Quite so. They usually look after assignments that are too big for my personal touch.”
“So they were here to, what? Take you out?” Mike asked.
“I suppose that would be the phrase they would use, yes.”
Geri crossed her arms. “What kind of idiot puts out a hit on a person who can’t die?”
Alice shifted in her seat. “His Holiness, in his infinite wisdom, has been persuaded that my demise is the best course of action.”
“By who?”
“I do not know.”
“Why kill you?”
Alice smiled grimly. “I know where all the bodies are buried. All three hundred and twenty-eight of them.”
Rafferty tugged a chair out and plopped into it. “If that knowledge were to get out, it could bring down the Catholic Church. You’re more dangerous to them than a hundred McGintys.”
“Quite correct, Constable. I have been on the run for nearly two weeks. Since I left the Vatican, they have not given me a moment’s peace. I am afraid I made a mistake coming here. It has put you all in danger.”
“Why did you come here?” Geri asked.
Alice shrugged. “Instinct, I suppose. I felt a small connection with your husband. Because of who I am and how I live my life, I do not have many of those. Although, I think it would be prudent for me to disappear for a while. Find some out-of-the-way place and wait it out. Whenever the next Conclave concludes, I will make myself available to do the next Pope’s bidding, as I have for centuries.”
“But any flight you book using your Vatican passport—won’t they be able to trace it? Surely, they have your passport flagged in the system,” Rafferty said.
“Just as surely as they are watching this house right now.”
All of them tensed. They glanced at the windows.
Alice cleared her throat. “I am hoping that when they see I have booked a flight to Outer Mongolia or somewhere equally remote, it will satisfy His Holiness that I am no longer a threat.”
“I don’t know that I’d count on that,” Mike said.
They were all silent for a moment. The darkness outside and the low light in the kitchen was a perfect match for their mood.
Geri tugged out a chair and sat. “I think I have an idea. Mike, remember when you got here this morning?”
* * * * *
The sun peeked over the horizon when Alice and Rafferty stepped out the back door. Alice wheeled a small suitcase behind her. She had donned her sensible, low-heeled shoes and borrowed a t-shirt from Susie and a jacket from Geri. Two of her would fit inside the jacket and the hem came down almost to her knees.
Alice stowed the suitcase on the back seat and climbed into the passenger seat. Rafferty got in the driver’s side. Neither one of them openly examined the neighborhood, although they scanned the area surreptitiously.
Rafferty started the unmarked police car and peered through the windshield. “As soon as they figure out we’re headed to the airport, they’ll try and stop us.”
“I am aware of that, Constable.” Alice reached into her handbag and pulled out the Tanfoglio and the suppressor and fitted them together. She caught his gaze. “But I believe the suitcase probably has given that away already.”
She chambered a round into the Tanfoglio, and they snugged their seatbelts into place.
“Okay,” Rafferty said. “Here goes nothing.”
He dropped the car into gear and pulled away from the curb with a short, sharp squawk of the tires. He watched his rearview mirror as they headed down the street.
“Nothing yet,” he mumbled as he rounded the corner at the end of the block.
“That will not last long.” Alice scanned the road.
Rafferty gunned the engine and the cruiser shot down the road. He glanced in the mirror and grunted. “There we go.”
Alice looked out the back as a car with no headlights pulled out a block behind them and paced them through the neighborhood.
As they wove through the residential area toward the freeway which would take them to the airport, the pursuit car maintained its distance, despite Rafferty randomly changing speed. It hung back a couple blocks away.
As they approached the entrance ramp to the freeway, Rafferty snapped on the signal light. Immediately, the car behind accelerated, closing the distance.
“Here they come,” Rafferty warned.
A clang and a spark erupted from the right front fender as they sped along the exit ramp and merged onto the freeway.
“That was a shot,” Rafferty said.
“They do not want us going up there.” Alice gripped the Tanfoglio. “There are likely to be more of them on the freeway, Constable. Remain vigilant.”
“Roger that.”
There was more traffic on the freeway, but it was still sparse.
“Perhaps it would be best to put on your lights and siren, just in case,
” Alice said. “Clear the path, as it were.”
“My thoughts exactly.” Rafferty hit the switch.
Rafferty accelerated. At nearly ninety miles-per-hour, the unmarked police cruiser shot down the freeway.
Alice turned to check. “I can’t see them, Constable. That does not mean they are not there. Or that there are not others lying in wait ahead of us.”
As they approached an overpass, cars scattered ahead of them, eager to get out of their way. As the overpass flashed by, Alice spotted a vehicle rushing down the on-ramp.
“Constable, we have company. Coming down the on-ramp.”
Rafferty spared a quick glance over his shoulder. “Got ‘em. Hang on.” He swerved into the far-left lane and pinned the accelerator. The distance between them and the car pursuing them from the on-ramp grew substantially.
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
Rafferty and Alice flinched as three shots hit the trunk.
“They really don’t want you to make it to the airport, do they?” Rafferty swerved around a pickup truck.
Traffic peeled off left and right as the cruiser flew down the freeway. Alice glanced ahead, then back behind.
“Constable, can you move over one lane to your left?”
Rafferty swerved into the left-hand lane. “You got an idea?”
“I do, indeed, Constable. When I say so, brake. Hard.”
“Gotcha.”
Alice monitored behind them. The sedan following them wasn’t closing. It was the perfect time. She faced forward, lowered her window and braced herself.
“Now, Constable.”
Rafferty hammered the brakes. The nose of the cruiser dipped as the tires locked. Their pursuer careened closer, then came abreast. Alice squeezed off a shot. The pop was barely noticeable beneath the wind and the road noise.
The shot shattered the driver’s window. The driver jerked the car sideways and slammed on the brakes.
“Go, Constable.” Alice watched their pursuer.
The police cruiser shot ahead, gaining distance. As soon as the car behind them accelerated again, Alice turned and braced the Tanfoglio against the door post.
“Keep it steady, please, Constable.”
“You got it.”
As their pursuer closed, one lane to their right, Alice aimed at the front of the car and squeezed off three quick shots.
The first two sparked off the front grill of the sedan. The third punctured the driver’s side front tire. The drag yanked the wheel from the driver’s hands and the car wrenched itself across two lanes and onto the median. It careened into the base of a streetlight.
“Nice!” Rafferty yelled.
Alice straightened in her seat and closed her window.
BANG!
A hit on the roof made them duck.
“Sharpshooter on the overpass!” Alice yelled.
Rafferty ducked his head and squinted ahead at the bridge. He swerved right one lane.
“Can you make the exit? He will have a harder time tracking us from the side.”
“Let’s find out.” Rafferty wrenched the wheel to the right. Behind them, horns honked and tires screeched as Rafferty cut the car across three lanes of traffic toward the off-ramp.
They screamed up the off-ramp toward the intersection at the top. Alice watched the sniper turn and try to track them.
“You are not slowing down,” she said to Rafferty.
“Can’t risk...oh, shit.”
Alice snapped her head around. A semi and trailer decorated with Walmart logos was crossing the far side of the intersection in front of them.
“He’ll never clear it in time,” Rafferty shouted.
Alice’s gaze flicked left and right. “The closer lane is clear.”
Rafferty just nodded and edged the cruiser to the right to help with the hard left-hand turn. They roared towards the intersection.
“Slide it round so we can continue on our way after he pulls through,” Alice said. “I’ll keep the sharpshooter pinned down.”
“This is gonna be close.” Rafferty cranked the wheel and stood on the brakes.
The cruiser slid around the corner, the rear end shuddering as the rear tires locked. It pivoted on the front tires, the rear end sliding two hundred and seventy degrees.
As the passenger side of the car came around to face the sniper’s position, Alice drew a bead on him and popped off three rounds. They ricocheted off the concrete side of the bridge. The sniper scurried for cover.
The police car snapped to a stop in the middle of the road, throwing them to the right.
“Thank God for seatbelts,” Rafferty muttered.
“I just did.”
The semi trundled forward. Rafferty slammed his foot onto the accelerator and cranked the wheel left. They shot around the trailer. The car rocked as the right-hand wheels bumped over the curb.
As soon as they were clear of the intersection, they rocketed down the on-ramp and back onto the freeway.
Rafferty grinned. “Life’s never dull when you’re around, Alice.”
“I was about to say the very same thing to you, Constable.”
* * * * *
Rafferty halted the police cruiser in the passenger unloading zone in front of Philadelphia International Airport. At this time of the morning traffic in the unloading zone was heavy. Early morning commuters were departing.
Alice set the Tanfoglio on the passenger seat and climbed out. She got the suitcase, extended the handle and set the case on the sidewalk next to the car. She leaned in the open front door and smiled. “Thank you so very much for everything, Detective Rafferty.”
“My pleasure, Sister. Safe travels,” Rafferty said and nodded to her. “You going to be okay?”
“I shall be just fine. Goodbye.”
Alice shut the door and wheeled her suitcase toward the entrance.
Inside, Alice found the check-in desk for her flight. As she stood in line, she spotted three men monitoring her from the edge of the crowd. They wouldn’t need to get closer. She was the only nun in the building. They’d simply watch the veil as it was easy to spot.
After she checked in, she went directly to the lineup for security. Normally, she’d use her diplomatic passport and skirt the line. However, as the Pope had decided she was more of a threat than an asset to the church, her diplomatic credentials had been revoked. She’d have to get by with her personal passport.
She was glad she had left the Tanfoglio with Rafferty. Security searched her suitcase and her purse after obtaining her permission. She was even selected to be patted down and was pulled to the side by a female agent. The contents of her suitcase had raised a few brows but, no matter. They’d likely seen much stranger things.
While Alice was being patted down, she kept an eye on the three men watching her. The security barrier would hamper their efforts. None of them were likely to have a boarding pass.
Although, none of them seemed concerned that she was moving beyond their reach. Did that mean they had men on the other side, waiting to pick her up?
Once she was through and had retrieved her bag and suitcase, she moved through the crowd and found her gate, halfway down the right-hand side of the concourse. She took a seat so her back was to the windows overlooking the tarmac.
She scanned the crowd, watching for anyone who didn’t fit in, anyone taking an interest in her. Most of the Vatican’s people were well trained and were difficult for most people to spot. Alice had been discerning targets for much longer than they had. No matter how good they were, they would eventually give themselves away.
While she scanned, she also located the nearest washroom. She’d need reach it with no delay if she was to properly execute Geri’s plan.
She also studied the departures board for the gates nearest to hers. When the time came, it was vital that the crowd be at a peak. The Vatican’s agents would stop at nothing to get her. She had no doubt they’d even go as far as to call in a terrorist threat linked to her to gain the coopera
tion of the authorities in the airport.
There! The portly man in the cleaning uniform poking at the garbage in the nearest garbage can. He had just flicked his gaze toward her, then muttered into the radio microphone on his shoulder.
Or perhaps she was being overly suspicious and he was merely checking in with his superior. One could never be certain. Until she confirmed his true identity, she would keep track of his whereabouts.
She watched the garbage man pass through a door set into the wall, then spotted the others round the corner by the security station.
Six of them.
Apparently, they were not concerned with blending into the crowd in this instance. She marked them as the Vatican’s men immediately. Suits. Ties. Sunglasses. Gold cross on a gold chain around their necks. They turned their heads, searching for her in the sparse crowd.
Alice jumped to her feet. She snatched the handle of her suitcase and made a beeline for the women’s washroom, to get there before they saw her. She moved fast, but not enough to draw attention.
Inside, she entered a stall and locked the door. She tore off her veil and laid it on top of her suitcase. Her coat, pants, shoes and socks followed.
She unzipped the suitcase enough to extract what she needed. Her running shoes, a tiny, spangley purse, a jacket and skirt. She already wore a white t-shirt with a Superman logo under her coat. Geri had also insisted she wear no brassiere under the t-shirt.
She tugged on the glittery, bright blue skirt, which was really one of Susie’s dress-up tube tops. She snugged it in place. It was almost indecently short but that was part of the illusion. No one would suspect a nun would dress in such a way.
She stuffed everything she had been wearing into the suitcase along with her Gucci handbag and zipped it shut. Then she snatched up the shiny red jacket, also from Susie’s dress-up supply. She stepped out of the stall and over to the sinks.
She hung the jacket and spangley purse from the suitcase handle and reached into the small zippered pocket on the front of the case for her sunglasses and lipstick.
She leaned toward the mirror over the sink and applied the bright red lipstick. Along with the extra-large sunglasses, it would complete her disguise. She mussed up her long, blond hair enough so that it did not look like it had been flattened beneath a veil.
