Rory (In the Company of Snipers Book 6)

by Irish Winters

  Her hand cupped his cheek, the pad of her thumb gentle under his eye. Yes. Now she knew. He was crying.

  She pulled Nima closer and wept like any mother giving her child away. The weariness of the mission was more than he could stand. This was their last night with Nima, their last time to love her and let her be nothing more than a child who loved chocolate, Mama Ember, and him. When David came to take Nima in the morning, it wouldn’t just be goodbye. It would be goodbye forever.

  Rory lifted his arm and covered his eyes. The next thing he felt was Kelsey’s gentle hand on his arm. “Rory?” she whispered.

  With a jolt he blinked his eyes open. Slivers of sunlight streamed through the bedroom blinds. Great. He’d fallen asleep in his boss’s spare bedroom with.... My girls. He glanced at the sleeping girls in his arms. The words came to him like the saddest lullaby. Until the end of forever, these two will always be my girls.

  “David’s here.” Her voice was tight. A shadow clouded her pretty face. She’d been crying, too. Poor Kelsey looked as bad as he felt.

  “Thanks. We’ll be right out.”

  “I put her new clothes in the bathroom. Whenever you’re ready.” She shut the door softly.

  He kissed Ember’s forehead. They’d both slept the entire night in a protective huddle around their little girl. She stirred and sniffed. Handing her another tissue, he untangled himself from the nest they’d made of Nima’s bed covers. She still slept soundly in Ember’s arms.

  “It’s time.”

  Ember stared at him from swollen red eyes. “I didn’t go to sleep, not even once. I just breathed and breathed and breathed her into my soul all night long.”

  Yeah. He’d done the same thing with his brand new baby boy when he was afraid Tyler wouldn’t live through those first couple nights in the hospital. Even though the boy was in an isolette, he’d breathed that little boy smell into his heart and soul and any other multi-dimensional part of himself that might exist, scared to death he’d never be able to get enough of the child he stood to lose.

  “Do you want to give her a bath before we get her dressed?”

  Ember nodded. By now, Nima lay awake and watching. The poor little thing had to know something was up. “Come on. Let’s make you beautiful one last time.”

  Eighteen

  Ember knelt at the tub. They bathed their little girl together and played in the bubbles until the water turned cool. But nothing they did today brought joy. They were stalling. At last, Ember dried Nima in the big fluffy bath towel Kelsey had left for them. She dressed Nima in the lavender corduroy pants and purple hoody top she’d bought only days before. Ember dried Nima’s thick brown hair with Kelsey’s blow dryer and tied it back with a violet ribbon while Rory watched.

  The somber threesome finally walked into the living room with Nima holding onto Rory and Ember’s hands. David sat there with Alex, Kelsey, and three Buddhist monks. Two of the robe-clad men looked to be in their eighties, the other much younger. As soon as they spotted Nima, the monks stood and bowed. She clutched Ember’s hand tighter and pressed her little backside into Rory’s leg.

  “Nima Gyatso,” they said in unison, their wizened faces softened into smiles.

  “No. She’s Nima Dawa,” Ember corrected them. “Not Gyatso—or whatever you guys said.”

  They smiled as if she were a child who amused them with her ignorance. David politely intervened. “The new name, Nima Gyatso, is given in anticipation of her becoming the next Dalai Lama. She’ll keep her first name, but her second name will change. Gyatso means ocean. It is the standard naming tradition for all Dalai Lamas.”

  Rory stood on the other side of Nima, her hand still securely in his. The minute Nima glanced up at him, he lifted her into his arms. Ember circled Rory’s waist with one arm.

  “Exactly who will be raising our little girl?” he asked.

  David winced at the direct question, but Ember didn’t care. Someone better have a good answer.

  The youngest monk bowed respectfully. “We have selected a woman to act as her governess until she is old enough to speak for herself.”

  Another stepped forward. “Please accept my humble apologies. We were overzealous when we first glimpsed the child. We should not have addressed her as Gyatso yet. In our culture, the Dalai Lama is the embodiment of all good things in our country. If Nima Dawa is truly the reincarnation of Chenrezig, that is, the patron deity of Tibet, then she will assume the proper name in due time. We have already received reports of her great compassion and spiritual advisements. You have done a great service to the people of Tibet by protecting her.”

  Rory shifted Nima to his hip, shielding her from their eager and too direct overtures. “Let’s get something straight. I didn’t do the mission for the people of Tibet, and you guys have not answered my question. I asked who will care for this little girl? She’s four years old. I doubt she cares about all that other mumbo jumbo right now. I don’t. But I do want to know who’ll feed her in the morning? Who’ll read her bedtime stories at night? All you’ve told me is some woman. Not good enough. I want a name, not more of your ancient mystical history.”

  The monks turned to each other in quiet whispers. The youngest spoke. “We are not permitted to share the woman’s name with you right now. You must understand, the child has been the subject of death threats and—”

  Rory held his palm right into the face of that gentle monk. “Give me a break. You think I don’t know someone’s trying to kill her?”

  “Yeah, you guys,” Ember sputtered. “Where do you think we’ve been the last week?”

  David patiently intervened again. “Rory. The child belongs to the Tibetan people and—”

  “No, David. No, she doesn’t!” He raised his voice and Ember couldn’t take her eyes off him. The man had nothing more than the welfare of Nima on his mind and she was so proud of him. “You guys act like she’s property. She’s not. She’s a little girl who’s lost everything. She has a name! Nima belongs in a safe and child-friendly environment where she’ll live to the ripe old age of a hundred or more. She belongs with a mother and a father and a real family. Would you do this to one of your children, David? Would you send them to live with a bunch of old men? I don’t care who these guys are. They’re not taking her until I’m convinced she’ll be safe. You got that, David? Or did you forget who you work for?”

  Wow. You go, Rory. And wherever you’re going, I am so going with you.

  David stared back at Rory, his lips pursed in thoughtful deliberation. He didn’t seem angry, more like he’d run out of persuasive arguments. He looked to Alex, who’d been sitting on the couch quietly observing the heated discourse between one of his senior agents and a very perturbed junior agent who had a helluva lot of nerve to speak back like he had.

  Alex sat silent with his arm around Kelsey, for once, not in the middle of the power struggle. He shrugged. “I agree with Rory. Give me a name. Who is the mystery woman who will take care of Nima? Let Mother run that person through her checks and balances. Let’s make damned sure first. Then we’ll talk.”

  The three monks politely bowed to Alex before they resumed another private conversation. Again, the youngest spoke. “We must ask for the way forward from the High Lamas. You will keep her safe until we return?”

  “Yes!” Ember blurted. She could’ve danced on Kelsey’s coffee table. “I mean, yes, we’ll keep her safe and—”

  Rory offered a handshake. “That’s exactly what we’ll do, sir. Will you keep in touch with us and let us know what to expect?”

  “Yes. I will continue to converse with Agent Tao. May I ask one thing before we depart? I can see you both love Nima Dawa very much. May I please have your permission to touch her? Just her fingers?”

  Rory turned to Ember. She lifted her shoulders. “Sure. We’ve been touching her all week.”

  The young man cautiously approached Nima. The smile on her face couldn’t have shone brighter. He hadn’t even touched her yet when she launched
herself at him.

  He caught her easily and knelt to one knee, his eyes closed with her on his lap. She cocked her cute little head to one side then the other, like this was a fun game of hide-and-seek. With all the solemnity of a child at play, she knocked on his forehead. The young man opened his eyes, but he couldn’t seem to look directly into Nima’s.

  The room stilled at the tender proceedings, but the tiny girl’s countenance changed. Her sweet blue eyes turned darker than Ember had seen them during their time together. She squeezed Rory’s bicep. “Watch. She’s doing it again.”

  The young monk sputtered and choked, tilting backward. Nima leaned over him, nearly climbing onto his chest. For the first time, he met her gaze.

  She growled, “I am come.”

  Ember gulped. She’d heard Nima say those exact words before. In the train car. When she thought she was hallucinating. Wow.

  The monk’s eyes widened with sudden understanding. David and the other monks fell to their knees. Nima knocked on the young man’s shaved head once more. “’Kay?” she asked softly.

  When he could only tremble and shake, she pressed her forehead to his and said it for him. “Yep. ʼKay now.” Untangling herself from his robes, she returned to Rory and lifted her arms up. The playful child was back.

  Rory picked her up while the young monk got shakily to his feet. He kept his eyes averted from Nima. Neither did David or the other monks look at her. They left the house, their heads bowed.

  “What the hell was that all about?” Alex asked when the door closed.

  “Language,” Rory muttered good-naturedly. “She’s four.”

  Alex scowled, but nodded.

  “I can Google the name she called herself,” Kelsey said. “What was it again? Palden Lhamo? Did I hear her right?” Already at her computer, she brought up an image and its accompanying description while everyone leaned over her shoulder. “My gosh. Look what I’ve found.”

  “What the hell?” growled Alex.

  On the screen, riding sidesaddle on a white mule, was Palden Lhamo, a three-eyed, fierce-looking woman with bright blue skin and dark red hair. In one hand she held a human skull that looked like it was full of red blood. She wielded a sickle in her other hand while a cloud of bright orange flames surrounded her and the mule.

  The description was even more frightening. She was the lone female goddess among the Eight Guardians of the Law in Tibetan culture, and protected all Dalai Lamas. But it also characterized her as a mother who’d killed her son when he attempted to destroy Buddhism. If that wasn’t bad enough, she also drank his blood, ate his flesh, and used his skin as a saddle blanket for her mule.

  “Wow. If that’s who you really are, you are one tough little cookie,” Ember said.

  Nima peered down at the bright colors on the computer screen, clapped her hands on Ember’s cheeks and giggled.

  Alex stretched out of sheer boredom. He never held much with organized religions of any kind. His wife seemed to be the only gospel he lived for. “Whatcha think, Kelsey? Should we feed these kids breakfast since it looks like they’re staying?”

  “I’ll help you fix it, Boss,” Rory offered.

  The men went into the kitchen to get the show on the road. Breakfast was waffles, scrambled eggs, bacon, sliced honeydew melon, coffee for the adults, and milk for Nima. Everyone sat around the kitchen table discussing the events of the last week.

  For the first time, Ember was relaxed and at ease. The assassins were dead and Nima’s farewell was postponed till who knew when. She helped herself to another slice of melon.

  Even Rory was slouched back in his chair, apologizing for falling asleep and not making it into work for the 10 a.m. debrief.

  Alex waved it off. “It’s not like I’m there, either. We’ll do it tomorrow. Besides, you two still look like you need a good night’s rest.”

  Rory agreed. “Not much sleep on this op, huh, Ember?”

  “Only when I was in the hospital and that didn’t last long.”

  “The hospital?” Alex exclaimed. “When were you two going to tell me?”

  Rory smirked. “During the debrief. You want to hear about everything we’ve been through now?”

  “Here, hold Nima so I can show you my leg.” Ember handed Nima to Alex when she caught Rory cringe. “Never mind. I’d kinda have to, umm, show a little bit more than you probably want to see.” She scrunched her nose at Rory and sat back down. He visibly relaxed. He could be such a prude.

  But Alex was entirely focused on the child in his arms. Nima sat facing him. With a soft murmur she laid her head against his chest and closed her eyes. He coughed, pushed away from the table and rushed out the back door with Nima still cradled in his arms.

  “Oh, oh. She’s doing it again,” Ember said softly.

  “What’s she doing?” Kelsey asked.

  Rory shook his head. “That little girl says the darnedest things.”

  Kelsey stood to watch Alex through the kitchen window. “Like what kinds of things?”

  “Like she told me to stop hiding so someone could find me. And so,” Rory turned to Ember with a soft light in his eye, “I told Ember all about my son, Tyler.”

  “You have a son?” Kelsey asked. “But Alex never—”

  “I asked him to keep it confidential. I didn’t want…. Heck, I don’t know why I didn’t want anyone to know about Tyler. He’s a good boy.”

  “And she’s said a lot of different things that have been scary in a real personal way, kind of like she’s reading our minds or something,” Ember explained.

  She and Rory joined Kelsey at the window. Alex paced the yard with Nima still hugged up against him.

  “What could she have said to him?” Kelsey asked.

  “All I heard her say was ‘Daddy,’” Rory said.

  Kelsey flew out the door. When she drew close to Alex and Nima, he grabbed her against him.

  “Now he’s getting an idea of what we’ve been living with,” Rory observed somberly.

  “I’ve only seen him cry once, when Todd—” Ember stopped and sputtered. “Oh, my gosh! My vision! Remember? Alex is crying just like in my vision. That means—”

  “It’s just—”

  “No. It’s my vision. It’s true. It’s all going to—”

  The linoleum floor lifted up like an ocean swell. Darkness engulfed Ember in one huge swallow. All she could hear was a distant voice calling, “Ember. Ember.”

  Nineteen

  Down she went.

  Rory tried to catch Ember. He couldn’t stop her from falling, but he did manage to shield her head before she hit herself on her way down. She’d turned white as a ghost the second she recalled the vision. Alex and Kelsey came back inside to find him and Ember on the floor.

  “What the hell now?” Alex asked the minute he saw them.

  Kelsey soaked a cool cloth for Ember’s forehead and knelt with Rory on the floor.

  “She had a vision,” he said calmly. “She thinks she saw life and death, and you crying, Boss. When she remembered that part, she fainted.”

  Alex still held Nima on his lap at the kitchen table. He looked like he needed a good night’s sleep. “This little friend of yours said something I wasn’t expecting.”

  “Now you know what we’ve been going through.”

  “What’s the rest of the vision?”

  “I’m not sure I should say. Ember’s positive what she saw, but I’m not sure what it means.”

  “What?” Alex asked again.

  Rory sighed. “She got this message from Nima: Remember to use tragedy as a source of strength. But then she also received a vision. She saw you crying, Harley smiling, and me dead. She saw some other stuff, too. It sounds crazy, but—”

  “Oh, my,” Kelsey murmured.

  Ember groaned and stretched in Rory’s arms.

  “How are you doing?” he asked, patting her cheek gently.

  “Awful.” She scrunched her nose and blinked several times. “I’m seeing t
wo of you. How’d you do that?”

  He shook his head and smiled. Sometimes the things that came out of her mouth amazed the living heck out of him. “Lie still until you feel better.”

  Alex and Kelsey sat at the kitchen table with Nima, waiting until Ember could get up from the floor. When she was steady again, Rory guided her to the living room couch.

  “If we weren’t getting shot at or fire-bombed by assassins,” he said, “we were dealing with mind-blowing prophecies and revelations from Nima. It’s been an interesting week to say the least.”

  Alex still held a sleepy Nima on his lap when David knocked and let himself in. He took a seat and faced Rory and Ember, but he didn’t look at Nima.

  “We already Googled Palden Lhamo,” Rory said before David had a chance to speak. “We know she’s some scary Tibetan goddess. Just saying.”

  “Good.” David sat forward on his chair. “Tell me what else you think you know.”

  “Just what’s on the internet,” Kelsey said, pointing to the fierce image still on her computer screen.

  David went to the desk and closed the laptop. As soon as he sat back down, Rory wanted to know, “Why won’t you look at Nima?”

  David sighed, his hands to his knees. “You have to understand. Palden Lhamo is the Lady Goddess in Tibetan culture. She is the protector of all Dalai Lamas, but she is also the Queen of Armies. She is usually depicted crossing a sea of blood on a white mule. Her hair is red because it depicts her wrathful nature, not the latest fashion. Very often, she is shown with a crown of skulls and a serpent. The serpent is Wrath, which she may choose to unleash upon the world at her leisure or if she is summoned by one who is the most faithful. The most beloved.”

  “So?” Alex didn’t sound impressed.

  David blew out a deep breath. “You may think I’m overreacting, Boss, but in Buddhist temples the picture of Palden Lhamo is kept covered in the farthest corner of the temple at all times. We do not look upon her face.”

  “Why not?” Ember asked.

  “Because we believe she has great power, the worst kind, and to look upon her is to invite her wrath.”