by Jo O'Neil
Chapter Seventeen
The Letter
It took me a while to calm Hope. She was spooked at the counselling leaflet which I thought was meant to help her, and she was most apprehensive about flying to New York and leaving Rupert who didn’t have an inkling about her double life. She felt sure Caldwell would attribute her absence to an urgent work trip, which was actually fairly accurate, and her father, who was one of only two civilians who knew about Hope’s gift (the other being Hope’s mother), would comply with MI6’s story. So Hope had no fear where Collins, Harper, and Jones Solicitors were concerned. However, she was very troubled Rupert would feel a case of déjà vu. After all, according to Hope, Rupert had already left married-to-the-job me.
I tried to reassure her. Quite honestly though, my heart just wasn’t in it, as comforting one’s engagement ring clad love rival for the benefit of saving said adversary’s relationship, seemed completely unprincipled. If I was trialled in God’s court or hauled over for my decision in my ultimate life review, I would make my case on the foundation I was truthful and exercising moral values, and any action to the contrary would be countable as a sin.
Leaving Hope with the counselling leaflet that I asked her to deliberate, and my decanter of whisky which she liberally poured into her glass, possibly in the hope she would be deemed too inebriated to fly, I orbed back to MI6.
I wanted to have a good look at Ryan Joshua Scott’s file. I didn’t believe he was a rogue agent, otherwise why would God want to conceal him? So this implied he was being framed. If I was going to finish my assignment and protect Hope, it seemed to me I was also going to have to prove Ryan Joshua Scott’s innocence. That was something I was exceptionally proficient at after years’ of dedicated practice. But, it also meant I was going to have to apprehend the actual infiltrator. That was something I was less accomplished at. Yet even though I appreciated it was going to be one steep learning curve, I was very willing to learn. With no other leads I reasoned Ryan Joshua Scott’s service file was as good a place to start as any.
When I arrived at MI6 I was disappointed the light which had led me to Hope was absent again. Far from defeated I called upon Archangel Chamuel, the angel who sees everything from his lofty position which puts him well placed to find humans and objects alike. When he didn’t respond I remembered A.M.’s hesitancy to orb into the British Secret Service, so I called again this time from outside MI6’s walls. Immediately, a pale green sphere floated down to me before revealing Archangel Chamuel, who I recognised from both his hologram and angel card.
‘Good evening, Serena Olivia Unity Lewis, I am Archangel Chamuel. I am very pleased to have the privilege to meet you. You require my help locating Ryan Joshua Scott’s MI6 service file,’ he stated.
‘Yes, please, Archangel Chamuel. Any help you can offer me will be greatly appreciated.’
‘Hold pure intention to orb to Pandora Blacks’s office and you will find that which you seek.’ Immediately Archangel Chamuel had given me my answer, he vanished, just as Archangel Gabriel had done.
‘Thank you, Archangel Chamuel,’ I called up to heaven. ‘I wish you would all stop vanishing as soon as you’ve answered me and give me the opportunity to thank you in person though,’ I added much more quietly.
The sun had long set. Consequently, the light was fast fading from the clear sky which promised a treacherously cold night as I vanished in a magenta glow from outside the impressive building to Pandora Black’s office.
It was relatively box sized compared to the standard Collins, Harper, and Jones Solicitors offered. The lights were off, her computer was on sleep mode, and the heating had gone cold; all clues suggesting Pandora had gone home for the night leaving me to locate Ryan Joshua Scott’s file without interruption. But maddeningly her steal grey cabinets were locked, and there was no sign of the keys.
I tried to think what angel could help me. At a loss who was best to call upon when a lock needed picking, I asked A.M. for help. Naturally, he didn’t show, but he’d promised I would receive the help I needed, and sure enough a moment after asking I heard a faint noise which sounded like a lock was being tampered with.
Visions of God’s court with the leprechauns versus the dragons came to my mind as I satisfied myself the image before me was definitely a leprechaun picking the locked filing cabinet.
I remembered A.M. telling me; “leprechauns are notoriously mischievous, so you would do well to leave them alone.” Nonetheless, I considered politeness important. And after all the leprechaun had materialised to help me, so I said a feeble, ‘Hello.’
When he didn’t answer I tried again. ‘I say, I said “hello.”’ My voice was sturdier this time.
‘I know what you said. I’m not deaf,’ the little man with the funny hat he had pushed back to aid his vision replied.
‘Then why didn’t you answer me the first time?’ I asked confused and a little offended.
‘Just because I get cajoled into using my expertise in this degrading of mundane tasks by the Archangel who is known as, He who is like God, doesn’t mean I have to like it and doesn’t mean I have to speak to you,’ he answered. ‘I should be making shoes not picking locks,’ he moaned.
‘It may help if you take your hat off,’ I offered in an attempt to help.
‘TAKE MY HAT OFF!’ The little man shouted in outrage. ‘I’ve a good mind to leave you, Damsel in Distress, for suggesting the ultimate rudeness that I, an honourable Leprechaun, remove my hat!’
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you. I was trying to help, not upset you. I’m very grateful for your help,’ I desperately added aware A.M. may not be impressed if I sabotaged the assistance he’d sent me.
Thankfully, at that moment the lock decided to comply.
‘Thank you,’ I graciously said.
The leprechaun snarled as he gathered up his tools, the whole time muttering how Archangel Michael had abused his position. Finally, he grunted at me and vanished.
‘Thank you, A.M.,’ I quietly said. ‘Mercifully the leprechaun wasn’t at all mischievous; just exceedingly grumpy. Nevertheless, I very much appreciate the assistance, and I trust this means God wants me to view Ryan Joshua Scott’s secret service record.’
As I finished my sentence the bottom from last filing cabinet draw gently rolled open to reveal a beige file standing proud of the others. I bent down and read: Ryan Joshua Scott.
I sat down in Pandora’s ordinary, armless, black office chair, and placed Ryan Joshua Scott’s file on her cheaply lacquered wooden desk. As I flicked through the pages I learnt Ryan had been a decorated Royal Marine before being recruited by MI6, and had enjoyed several years’ exemplary service since joining Her Majesties Secret Service.
His parents had died many years’ before the start of his prestigious career, in a road traffic accident which left Ryan an only child. Other male family members had also met untimely deaths; his father’s brother, also a military man, had been gunned down during active service leaving a wife and two young twin sons; just before the twins turned twenty-one, they had been mowed down by a drunk driver who was never apprehended. Single with no significant other-half, Ryan Joshua Scott seemed light on family and friends.
As I scanned his file, nothing of notable interest stood out at me until the last entry I examined which stated; Ryan Joshua Scott was being charged with acting as a double agent on the strength of a statement submitted by Fagan Hart. Fagan claimed he had indisputable evidence which he’d submitted to the chief of MI6, Sir Anthony Rawlings, accusing Ryan of selling British intelligence to the highest bidder. The charge also alleged Ryan had unidentified co-conspirators in MI5 and the Metropolitan Police, which explained Cain and Caldwell Harts’ involvement and warranted his supposed crime to be classified as a high level security breach, the likes the British Secret Service hadn’t known before.
As I came to the end of the accusation, I noticed another document I would have sworn und
er oath hadn’t been in the file a minute earlier. When I looked more closely, to my utter astonishment it was a letter addressed to me from God. It read:
My Dear Serena
As I AM sure you have deduced; Ryan Joshua Scott is innocent. Your assignment is to save My light worker Hope Harper. However, to save Hope you also have to save Ryan by clearing his name with the fine legal mind I have blessed you with.
Hope will be leaving for New York in the next couple of hours. It is not practical for you to be on the same flight as Hope nor, as Archangel Michael explained, can you orb intercontinentally. Thus, I have made separate arrangements for your mode of transport. When you have finished at MI6, please proceed to your retreat where you are to meet your contact, a most loyal subject of great nobility.
Promise Me, your loving Father, you will not become complacent, for without your help Hope is in grave danger, even with the protection of your amulet, and My beautiful soul Ryan Joshua Scott will only be vindicated through you.
You honour Me, Serena, as you petition for justice in the world of the relative as one of My beloved honorary angels.
I have loved you and will continue to love you always
Your, Father God x x x x
God had said, “One of My beloved honorary angels.” I wondered how many other poor souls He had recruited over the eons, and even more curiously; who was the noble contact I was to rendezvous with at my square?
I was rereading my letter and contemplating who in heaven could be my travel advisor, when the letter disintegrated to nothing before my very eyes. As I cast my vision upwards, the reason all traces of my assignment details had disappeared became apparent; standing by the open filing cabinet was Odile, the dark elf.
From the light of the corridor I could distinguish Odile’s appearance for the first time now she wasn’t lurking in the shadows. It was uncannily similar to Ophelia’s, apart from the fact she had: black ‘eagle’ wings; long coal black hair; and even her eyes, which were piercing and sinister, seemed to be a charcoal colour.
Odile’s body armour had the look of black, highly polished onyx. The shoulders were layered, although instead of being curved as Ophelia’s were, they were jagged and menacing; the same was true of her elbow high gloves. Her one piece body plate was cut away at the sides to emphasis her slim waist, and continued the jagged theme with three sharp points protruding downwards from her breastbone. A triangular style skirt, both front and back, stopped a good portion before it met her over the knee, high heeled black boots which exposed her well toned thighs. Technology was advanced on the dark side; as far from favouring the bow and arrow, Odile had a state of the art crossbow at her side, naturally in her preferred colour of black.
‘Pandora would be very interested to know you’re ransacking her office, Serena Olivia Unity Lewis,’ Odile’s disturbingly sweet voice threatened.
‘Hello, Odile. We finally get to speak to one another.’
The fact I knew her name visibly threw her, until she made the connection and replied, ‘Ah, you’ve been speaking with Ophelia. How is my virtuous cousin?’
‘You can ask her for yourself,’ I answered, seeing Ophelia had just appeared directly behind Odile.
Odile followed the gaze of my eyes as she spun around, simultaneously seizing her crossbow. Still, she was no match for Ophelia who with lightening speed had drawn her bow and arrow.
With the arrow point dangerously near to Odile’s throat, Ophelia commanded, ‘Put the crossbow down, Odile.’
‘Hello, Ophelia,’ Odile said as she locked eyes with her cousin. ‘I didn’t think we were on talking terms. I’m very glad we are. Have you finally come to your senses; leave the self righteous brigade and join me?’ she offered in the same sickly sweet voice she used to try and intimidate me.
‘I will not warn you again, Odile; put the crossbow on the floor.’
‘Or you will do what exactly; kill me perhaps?’ Odile taunted Ophelia, obviously confident her own flesh and blood wouldn’t dare to harm her.
‘If necessary, Odile, that is exactly what I will do,’ Ophelia coolly answered.
‘WHAT! You would maim or mortally wound me, your own kin?’ Odile genuinely sounded shocked.
‘Yes, just as you would not flinch if you were the one holding your weapon to my throat. If it has not escaped your notice, Odile, we are at war. The dark side is deluded in its belief it can overpower good and spread its evil throughout God’s Cosmos. Lucifer will never reign, for the Alpha is too mighty. It is only due to God’s good grace and His mercy that Satan has not been banished to the abyss.’
‘You talk a good talk, Ophelia, but would you really have the courage to kill me, your mother’s sister’s daughter?’‘OK, that’s quite enough,’ I intervened. ‘Odile, put your crossbow down now, otherwise Ophelia will indeed kill you with my full blessing; and I’m working on God’s direct orders so don’t think He will intercede and save you,’ I said sternly as I produced my silver star.
The number 444 flashed before the dark elf. Although it didn’t physically touch her, she recoiled in its presence.
Enjoying my authority I added, ‘And as for Lucifer, I would be wholly surprised if he popped up to Pandora’s office, risking an arrow at Ophelia’s hand to rescue you, a dark elf.’
Both of the elves looked stunned at my outburst, which had the desired effect. With Odile disarmed, Ophelia magically produced bounds to tie her up and gagged her before literally throwing her in Pandora’s boxy stationary cupboard. There were a few muffled screams from the dark elf before Ophelia used the ancient magic which was her birth right to silence her.
‘I have spellbound her chains so she cannot escape, and she cannot scream to alert anyone of her need for help until you have safely arrived in New York,’ Ophelia reassured me. ‘I have used a very old spell my mother taught me, and I daresay her mother showed her, to prevent Odile telling anyone we were here or that you looked at Ryan Joshua Scott’s service record. Have you finished?’ Ophelia nodded towards the beige folder on Pandora’s desk. ‘Yes, I’ve learned all I can from the document,’ I answered.
Without speaking or moving, Ophelia instructed the file to neatly place itself back in its slot among the other sleeves. Obediently, the cabinet then proceeded to close and lock itself so there were no traces of it ever being tampered with.
‘Ophelia, how did Odile detect my presence tonight when before she was unaware I was in the same room as her?’
‘I can only assume, Serena, and I feel I am by some measure to blame, so I humbly ask for your forgiveness.’ Ophelia cast her eyes down towards the shabby tiles that carpeted Pandora’s office as she made her confession. ‘I believe when I retrieved your pamphlet from Odile, she sensed all was not as it seemed and uncovered the truth by means of a counter concealment spell.’
I pondered the ramifications of Ophelia’s assumption before asking with a tone of urgency, ‘Do you think Odile has told the Harts I was at MI6, Ophelia?’
‘No. Odile would want glorification which merely stating your being here would not give her. She planned to capture you and then she would have given you to the evil-doers for interrogation.’
‘Would she have been able to detain me? Surely I could have orbed out of harm’s way,’ I stated uncertainly.
‘Odile would have conjured old magic to restrain you. However, her weakness is that she underestimates God, deeming Lucifer to be superior. This inaccurate supposition will be her downfall, for there is no one greater than the Almighty who would have sent Archangel Michael to your rescue.’
I was stunned into silence.
As I deliberated my fallibility, even as God’s Heavenly Secret Agent, Ophelia assured me, ‘I have dealt with Odile, Serena, so please do not concern yourself. She will not disclose your existence, because she cannot due to the spells I have preformed.’
I thanked Ophelia, who at least stayed to receive my gra
titude for her assistance unlike the Archangels, before she disappeared. Satisfied I was a step closer to completing my assignment and recovering my life, I set off to rendezvous with God’s contact at my haven.
