Her Secret Christmas Agent

by Geri Krotow

  As more members arrived Nika was able to get Rachel off to the side and find out who was who.

  “How many of these people do you know?”

  Rachel made a pretense of looking at her nails. “See that woman over there? That’s Amy Donovan’s mother. She’s just like my mother; over-the-top with her belief of this stuff.”

  “Do you talk to Amy about it?”

  Rachel shook her head. “Oh, no, no way. Amy won’t even admit her mother is doing this stuff.”

  “Is she a single parent, too?”

  “No, Mr. Donovan used be around the school for events all the time, but not so much now. Since Amy has so many younger brothers and sisters, he’s probably taking them to sports and lessons and stuff. Probably thinks his wife is nuts for doing this, too.”

  Rachel pointed out a few other parents that she said had seniors at Silver Valley High but none in the chemistry class. Then Nika spotted a familiar face.

  “Do you see what I see? Is that one of the PE teachers over there?” Nika motioned with her eyes to Kristine Rattner, whom she hadn’t run in to since their face-off in the girl’s bathroom.

  “Yeah, that’s Ms. Rattner. She started coming this past summer.”

  “Isn’t it weird that an educated woman would be sucked into this?”

  Rachel shrugged. “They prey on the lonely.”

  Nika glanced at Kristine and hoped she didn’t notice her with Rachel. Not yet, anyhow. The less opportunity Kristine had to place her face, the better.

  “Do they talk about things like the Rainbows here?”

  “No, not directly, but they sure hint around it. Now, stop talking. You think no one notices us, but trust me, they’re all watching.”

  *

  After Nika and Rachel were placed in seats next to Belinda, Nika kept her focus on Rachel, who was staring straight ahead, her face blank. Oh, God, please don’t let her fall for any of this. As much as Rachel was her own person, Nika had read in the TH files how powerful a person Wise was. Convincing.

  A hushed quiet fell as the silence stretched out. The echo of a door slamming and several heavy footsteps preceded a group of eight men, walking in pairs from behind old velvet curtains hung from the ceiling at the front of the room. The drapes reminded Nika of an old dilapidated funeral home, and the men looked like gestapo. They appeared to thrive on the attention their arrival caused. As everyone stood, also in unison, she wondered what the invisible signal had been. The men? When they passed a certain spot in the room? They marched by, their hands clasped in front of their waists as if in prayer, their heads bowed.

  Gross.

  The man of the hour walked in and he looked much like his prison photos. Older, his salt-and-pepper hair now stark white. Nika damned his solid posture, his obvious robust health. Apparently the rot that spewed from Wise didn’t affect his physical wellness.

  He started speaking and, from word one, it was clear: he was a man of conviction. Conviction that he was right and anyone, any entity that disagreed with his gospel of hate was wrong.

  He went on and on for nearly an hour and Nika thought more than once that he stared at her for too long a time; that he was going to point her out. But he didn’t and she realized she wasn’t relieved as much as disappointed not to have a reason to confront the sick son of a bitch.

  “Belinda Boyle will read the paragraphs on proper womanly behavior for us. Belinda?”

  Rachel’s mother proudly stood and walked to the front of the room, her posture erect. She didn’t take the podium Leonard Wise had spoken from, as if it weren’t allowed. She didn’t even look at Wise.

  Nika’s anger threatened to come out sideways.

  She had to focus, to stay grounded. The eventual elimination of this cult depended upon it.

  Chapter 15

  Mitch hadn’t suited up for such a deep-cover observation in months, not since Claudia had delivered an order for him to join three other TH agents in an op in a remote region in Africa. It felt strange to have to take such precautions in his own damned town, even if he was merely a forward lookout for the op, an extra observer. SVPD was running it, Bryce Campbell in charge, which meant Bryce handpicked who was on the detail. None of them would blink an eye at a new guy working with them. If Bryce said he was cool, he was good to go.

  Of course none of the officers working the case had contact with him, or knew he was in a tree fifteen feet above the ground. They only knew what Bryce would relay to them as the night progressed.

  Mitch focused his night-vision goggles on the compound’s meeting building, and specifically the three figures that appeared to be keeping watch outside. Officially the trailer park was open to the public, but unofficially it was the new compound for the True Believers, the foundation of Leonard Wise’s New Thought cult, the True Believer’s rebirth.

  In Silver Valley, Pennsylvania. He stifled a growl. No cult was going to take his birthplace down. Not on Mitch’s watch.

  And he wouldn’t allow them within an inch of hurting Nika.

  The rock through Nika’s windshield and the following explosion on Silver Valley Pike made Mitch wish he was an SVPD officer tonight. That he was authorized to do whatever it took to knock the cult out. He carried a single pistol in his back holster and one knife tucked away under his right leg, above his hiking boot, but he’d never use them, not on the cult members. Not tonight.

  Posted in a deer hunter’s blind in the midst of the deep woods that surrounded the back of the trailer park, he’d never be able to make out anything if it wasn’t for the bare winter branches and his night-vision goggles.

  What the hell was going on in that dilapidated building that it required guards? Even if the guards were mere thugs. He hated not knowing what Nika was going through, but his loyalty to the Trail Hikers and Claudia’s command was paramount.

  “You read us, Mitch?” Bryce’s voice came over the earpiece.

  “Roger. Nothing here—just the three idiots guarding the place.”

  Bryce’s chuckle made it over the connection. “Yeah, we can say that about all of the folks that believe in this wack job, right? Let me know if you see them do anything out of the ordinary.”

  “What’s ‘out of the ordinary’ for these dudes?”

  “If you see a weapon pulled or hear any shouting. We should pick it up before you do, but you’re our extra set of eyes.”

  “Roger.”

  He settled in to what used to be incredibly familiar—the long, uneventful surveillance part of most ops. His three brothers were into guy flicks with lots of action and explosions. While he enjoyed spending time with them they’d long stopped asking him if war scenes were realistic. They knew that ninety-nine percent of the time his answer wasn’t only “no” but “hell, no.” Since he couldn’t reveal his role as a Trail Hikers agent, he rarely commented on law-enforcement television or movies, but let his brothers think it was all the same to him. Which, in fact, it had been.

  Until now. Until he sat, feeling rather helpless, watching a building where he knew Nika was witnessing firsthand one of the craziest parts of human nature.

  *

  Two hours into what Rachel had warned Nika might be a three-hour “show,” Nika hadn’t grown bored or tired of Wise’s calculated rant. Instead she found herself relying on everything she’d ever read about cults and cult leaders. She’d taken a course in college on cults and it had been one of her favorites, along with criminal psychology.

  Leonard Wise was a conglomeration of what she remembered from both university classes. If she met him in a coffee shop he’d seem like any other older gentleman in Silver Valley. Quick with a smile, bright eyes, probably a firm handshake. For the men. If he treated her as he was preaching women needed to be handled—“with kid gloves to protect their childbearing ability”—she’d chalk him up to a product of his generation or having some kind of dysfunctional upbringing.

  But the man who stood in front of dozens of rapt Silver Valley citizens, getting them to n
od in agreement to his rants against government and “the children of today,” was empowered by the very hate he preached. Because he was still preaching the twisted hate gospel of himself: Leonard Wise. Identical to the crap he’d dished out to the True Believers almost three decades earlier. He’d shined it up, thrown in some new buzzwords more familiar to a new generation, but it was the same ugly attempt to brainwash vulnerable folks.

  “Stand by for the worst part of the night,” Rachel whispered to her, pretending to tie her high-top sneakers.

  “What’s gonna happen?” She wished she was wired—but unless the FBI or Trail Hikers became involved directly, all they’d have for a record of what she’d heard was her memory. The men at the entrance to the building had checked them for purses, bags and phones. Rachel had warned her ahead of time so Nika had left her phone in her car, back at Rachel’s. Along with her weapon. She felt naked without it.

  “You’ll see. Whatever you do, stay still, keep your eyes down. Do not go up to the front of the room no matter how much they stare at you.”

  “Okay.” Nika fought the sense that instead of Silver Valley they were in some dystopian young-adult genre novel. How was this possible in the twenty-first century, in a free country?

  Everyone makes his or her own choices.

  Her mother’s words came back to her. Her parents had left Warsaw to seek freedom, to get the chance to make their own way through life—and set the example for her.

  “Before we wrap things up tonight and enjoy the goodies and treats that our women have prepared, let us all be quiet and see if what we’ve learned has spoken to any of us. I’m asking you to use what you’ve heard tonight, what you’ve read in our handouts, and ask yourself if you’re being called to be a New Thought founder.”

  Nika repressed shudders of disgust at Wise’s blatant recruitment technique. She risked a look around the room and while she was trained as a police officer and not a psychologist, it was easy to see that Wise had ensnared several people. The only ones who weren’t smiling at him or nodding in agreement to his calls for hate were the few who, like Rachel, had been all but dragged to the meeting.

  Nika had to maintain her air of troubled but obstinate teen. Troubled and searching but tough enough to resist Wise’s requests.

  Her blood boiled with the emotions she had to keep repressed, invisible to Wise. She couldn’t take them all out tonight. Not your monkeys, not your circus. She blew out a breath and kept her gaze on the cheap linoleum floor. Her one monkey was to be here, observe and get Rachel to trust her enough to let her in on anything else she knew about the cult. In the future it was feasible that she’d need to ask Rachel to testify against the cult, recalling what had led her mother to their doors and convinced her to stay, even at risk of her own mental health.

  A soft touch on her shoulder jolted her and she fought against her training to grasp the wrist of the nondescript man who stood next to her, his face forward, his eyes on Wise. It wasn’t as if he were holding her in place, but the proprietary nature of his touch made her gut twist in repulsion.

  “Excuse me?” She twisted, tried to get away from the man without giving away her capabilities. “Who are you?”

  “Rachel, shut your girlfriend up!” Rachel’s mother hissed as she leaned over and slapped Rachel’s thigh. “No one speaks until Mr. Wise is done.”

  “Leave it, Mother.” Rachel didn’t have to act the insolent teen.

  “Now hold on, hold on.” Wise’s hands were up in the air, his grin splitting his too-smooth skin. “Let’s get to know your friend, Rachel. Introduce us.”

  “Screw you.” Rachel was doing what Nika was afraid could get them both locked up in some room somewhere on this compound.

  “It’s okay, Rachel, let’s just leave.”

  “Girls, girls, no need for the upset. We are all family. You’re in a safe place. I remember being a teen and it’s normal to think adults are a little strange, am I right?” Wise chuckled and on cue the audience laughed at his comment. A hollow, synchronized sound. Nika was getting more uncomfortable by the minute. Her cop instinct was screaming at her that she was in danger. That meant Rachel was, too.

  “Rachel, let’s go.” She kept her voice low, speaking in Rachel’s ear.

  “Mr. Wise is calling you to be welcomed.” Mr. Limp Grip spoke like a robot and his grip remained loose while his fingers had started to dig into her shoulder. The same shoulder she’d used to knock down a door last year.

  “Watch me, old man.” Keeping her voice low, she sneered at him as she gave the most subtle twist possible to get out of his grip, and used the turn of her body and head to check out the exit. Two large men were standing at the back of the room where they’d come in.

  When she looked forward again she saw the edge of doors behind the heavy velvet drapes.

  She turned to Rachel and spoke in a whisper. “Trust me.” Nika looked back at Limp Grip and snarled. “I’ll do this on my own, thank you.” She managed a smile for Wise, wanting—needing—to make him think she wanted to be here, wanted to do what was right in his eyes. She ignored the rising bile that threatened to gag her.

  Nika walked past the aisles of folding chairs with Rachel alongside her. When they reached Wise, they turned and faced the group. It was far scarier than any time she’d faced a weapon drawn on her, the possibility of an explosion, an angry, drunk crowd at a sporting venue. Because these people believed whatever Wise said. They chose to accept his words as truth. And they were completely sober.

  Wise didn’t touch her but when his eyes met hers she saw the gleam of fanaticism, the certitude that he was all that he thought he was. All that he programmed these “believers” into thinking he was. It was as creepy as if he’d physically touched her.

  “Now, see, here are two of our prettiest young ladies, future mothers of what will be the saving family of this country.” He swept his arm at the crowd.

  “Introduce yourselves, girls. Let us know your intention with our community.”

  Nika wanted to let him know her “intention” was to lock him up for good this time, but kept her roleplaying up and her eyes downcast as she spoke.

  “Hi. My name is Nika. I’d like to thank Mrs. Boyle for inviting me and Rachel for being my friend. I’m not ready to commit to anything tonight, but I’d like to learn more about New Thought.” She clenched her teeth.

  Wise’s smile disappeared and he raised his arm next to her as if to hit her, but instead he started into what seemed to be his version of a blessing on her and Rachel. As his voice boomed, his followers had their heads bowed and eyes closed. Nika sought Rachel’s gaze. Rachel’s eyes were damp, her resolve shaken, but she didn’t look away from Nika. Nika nodded very slightly and mouthed the word “now.”

  They ran for the back of the room, behind the ugly drapes and past just out of reach of the two burly men who were standing guard on either side of the makeshift stage. They didn’t stop as Nika burst the double doors open. Cold night air rushed her cheeks but she kept going, listening for Rachel’s footsteps behind her. They ran until they were out of the light cast by the building, on the edge of the forest surrounding the entire trailer park.

  *

  Mitch saw two figures run from the building an instant before the sound of the doors springing open reached his ears. His night-vision goggles were temporarily blurred by the spill of light from the opened doors but it didn’t take him more than a second to recognize Nika’s silhouette. Rachel was the girl next to her, he was certain. The thugs stood around the women, their pathetic shapes still. If Wise was going to enlist “guards” he should have made sure they were fit and not boasting paunches like these idiots.

  He fought his instinct to drop from the deer blind and go after the women, save them from the slimy bastards. But he couldn’t. He had to trust and believe in Nika’s capabilities. And he had to follow his orders from Claudia. He wasn’t supposed to even be here tonight.

  The realization that he totally trusted Nika t
o do this right warmed him deep in his chest. Nika knew her business.

  He tapped his mike.

  “What have you got?” Bryce’s voice was clipped. The SVPD lookouts were telling him things, too, Mitch was certain.

  “Nika and Rachel are running for the edge of the woods. I see two—no, make it three men closing in on them. But it’s strange.”

  “Strange how?” Bryce sounded impatient.

  “They’re not running to catch them. It’s like they’re circling them.”

  “Keep an eye on them. And, Mitch—”

  “Yeah?”

  “Do not engage.”

  Bryce’s voice cut out and Mitch keep his focus on the area where five figures stood. His hackles rose as the larger, definitely male figures closed their distance to the two women.

  Screw Bryce and screw the Trail Hikers directives. He wouldn’t give away his location or presence, and he wouldn’t interfere. But he had to be closer to Nika; had to be there in case she ran into trouble too deep to get out of in time for SVPD to be there.

  No one could fault him for this.

  *

  Late-afternoon dusk had turned to deepest night and Nika took a moment to get her bearings, placing her hand on Rachel’s forearm to still her, keep her from running all out into the woods.

  “Shh. We’re okay. Let’s wait a minute and then I’ll decide what we can do.”

  “It’s freezing out here, Nika!” Rachel had her arms wrapped around her chest. It was cold, bone-chilling. A major winter storm had been predicted for the past week and of course it had to roll in when they were most vulnerable. They’d been forced to hand over their purses and overcoats when they’d arrived. “And I don’t have my mother’s car keys—she put them in the basket at the front of the hall when we came in. How the hell are we going to get anywhere?”

  “We can walk if we have to. We could even run—can you run?”

  Rachel nodded. “Yes. That’s the only way I get a break from my mother.” Nika remembered that Rachel had mentioned she’d been on the school cross-country team before her mother had become a crazed cult follower and Rachel quit running to keep a better eye on her.