Rory (In the Company of Snipers Book 6)

by Irish Winters

  “But Dr. Choden called her Gyalwa something,” Rory said. “He didn’t mind looking at Nima.”

  “Gyalwa Rinpoche,” David enunciated the Tibetan name. “It means Precious Victor.”

  “I know. That’s what he said. What’s so bad about that?”

  “Because the Precious Victor only emerges after great chaos and ruin. You know your World War Two history, Rory. War is never good.”

  “Give me a break. Do you really think Nima is this ancient killer goddess?” Rory asked.

  “You tell me. You don’t always see a child when you look at her, do you?”

  “Mostly I see a little girl who says some scary things once in awhile. That’s all. She hasn’t said or done one mean thing while we’ve had her.”

  “But you heard her tell us who she is.” David pressed his argument. “Did it sound like the voice of a four-year-old child coming out of her mouth?”

  Rory shook his head. “No. She doesn’t say a lot, but she knows how to get our attention.”

  “And she told me the same thing as the monks,” Ember said. “I thought I was just delirious on the train, and—”

  “Wait. You were on a train?” Alex interrupted.

  “Well, sure. We had to jump into a boxcar to get away from—”

  “You jumped onto a damned moving train?”

  “Yes, Alex. That’s when I hurt my leg. I hit a wall or something and—”

  Alex sat upright, his anger palpable. “You hit a damned wall?” he growled, shooting a dark glance at Rory.

  “It was the only option, Boss,” Rory explained. “We had to hop the train. It was either that or—”

  “Alex,” Ember muttered. “Let me finish, will you? Yes, we jumped onto a moving train. We had to. The assassins bombed the Highway Patrol you sent to bring us home. That’s when I hurt my leg, but it’s also when Nima told me what she just told the monks. She said she was come. Not coming. Not going to come. Just—come.”

  David glanced at Ember, Rory, Alex, and Kelsey in turn. “In our culture it is called the voice of judgment. It has not been heard for hundreds of years. Those of us who believe Nima is divine also believe the goddess is speaking directly through her. She may not be the next Dalai Lama, but she must be protected at all cost.”

  “Am I going to live to regret accepting this contract to protect her?” Alex asked.

  “No,” Rory said. “She’s just a little girl. Protecting innocents is what we do, remember?”

  A small smile tugged the corner of Alex’s mouth. “You’re right. I’d just like to know when I’m signing a contract to start World War Three.”

  David shook his head abruptly, continuing in earnest. “There’s more. Recently the presiding Dalai Lama offered a prayer to Palden Lhamo. In his prayer, he summoned the Lady Goddess to come forth to face the great oppressors. He summoned Palden Lhamo by name, Rory. Think about that in the light of what I’ve just told you. He also promised her that the country of Tibet, although destroyed by the enemy, still believes in her. The faithful are waiting for deliverance that only Palden Lhamo can bring.”

  “And the presiding Dalai Lama is the most beloved?” Rory asked, his brows furrowed. “He’d be the one to summon the Goddess, right?”

  “I believe that is true. Yes.”

  It made no sense. The Yushu Sangha and Palden Lhamo sounded an awful lot like they were on the same page. They both wanted war. They both wanted a form of Buddhism to prevail over the world. And they were both scary bloodthirsty. What was the difference?

  “Tell me about the Yushu Sangha,” Rory asked. “Their leader last night seemed to believe like you do, that Nima is the Warrior Goddess reincarnated. He said it was their job to keep the line of the Goddess pure, that he had to kill her because she’s not human. That she needed to die to keep peace. What’s that all about?”

  “The Yushu Sangha do not want world peace. They want their peace,” David explained. “They’re a splinter group of terrorists who’ve waged war against the Dalai Lama since Tibet was subsumed into the People’s Republic years ago. They claim to be from Tibet, but they’re not. They seek a male-dominant, perverted twist to Buddha’s teachings that would eradicate what they call the parasite of freedom, democracy, and free thought. If they had their way, China would install someone they could control as the next Dalai Lama. Anyone who disagreed would be destroyed or reduced to slavery. Women would be nothing more than chattels.”

  “So I still don’t get it. They need to kill Nima because, if she really is the Warrior Goddess they’re so scared of, she’d do the exact same thing they plan to do? Kill everyone who doesn’t agree with her?” Ember asked.

  “It sounds like you think the Goddess’s brand of peace would be better than the Yushu Sangha’s brand. Am I right?” Rory asked facetiously. “What? Would she’d be more selective with who she killed or something?”

  David shook his head in patient frustration. “Either way, there will be a purge, but yes. In the long run, the Goddess would bring peace to the earth. The Yushu Sangha would only bring death and chaos until the world burned itself out.”

  “Leaving only them?” Ember asked.

  David nodded.

  “But how can you be so sure?”

  “Because there is relative peace now.”

  “And you think this era of peace is somehow linked to what Palden Lhamo did in the past?” Rory asked.

  “Listen, I know you don’t believe as I do, but please believe this. If nothing else, Nima is a threat to the current state of affairs in Tibet. From what I saw earlier in this very living room, she is the one faithful Tibetans have been waiting for. If her prophetic utterance is true, if she really is come as we all heard her say, she will deliver Tibet from its enemies. If the ancient story is true, she will do so with great wars and tremendous bloodshed, the likes of which this world has never seen. And she’s sitting on your lap, Boss.”

  David nodded toward Nima in all seriousness, but it was hard to take him at his word. The great and terrible Warrior Goddess had fallen asleep in Alex’s arms. She snored softly. And she drooled.

  And Alex was totally unimpressed by David’s fervent words. “What do you want us to do with her?” he snapped. “Cover her up with a veil like you guys do with her picture in your temples? Hide her in a box? Stash her in a cave on a mountaintop in the Himalayas? What?”

  David leaned back in his chair. “No, Boss. With her pale eye color, she’ll be hard to hide. I was thinking the WPP.”

  “The Witness Protection Program?” Rory growled scornfully. “You’ve got to be kidding. What makes you think we can trust them? Witnesses end up dead in the WPP all the time.”

  “Yes. You’re right. There is only one other place she would be safe.”

  “Where’s that?” Rory asked.

  “Dharamsala, India. If we take her to Tsuglagkhnag, the main Tibetan temple in the free world, she would be safe.”

  “What makes you think she’d be safer there than here with us?” Rory asked.

  “Because that is the residence and monastery of the Dalai Lama, and he is safe there.” David’s voice turned reverent.

  It made sense. The paradox lay in the fact that one of the most influential and potentially powerful personalities in the world lay asleep in Alex’s arms, oblivious to the plans being made for her future. What if they chose wrong?

  Rory turned to Alex. “All I know for sure is that Nima needs someone to care for her until she comes of age. I don’t care if it’s on the highest mountain in the Himalayas or in a tent in the Appalachians. I want her safe.”

  Ember had the sappiest look on her face again. If they’d been alone, he would’ve kissed her and she would have known she’d been kissed. Instead, he just winked.

  “Agreed,” Alex said. “But we move her today and we keep moving her until we hear back from the monks. We take no chances. When will you hear back from them, David?”

  “I hope today, but it could take several days before they r
eceive word from the High Lamas.”

  “Make it quick. Until they can prove Nima will be safer in their keeping than ours, we stay on task. Right now the only ones who know her location are the monks who just left. I’d like to believe they’re on our side, but we need to be sure.” Alex stared at David expectantly.

  “Yes, Boss. I will ask Mother to run background checks on them immediately,” David replied.

  “Good. Then it’s settled. Rory and Ember, you’re off the case. David and I will handle it from now on.”

  “What?” Rory sputtered, jumping to his feet. “But Boss—”

  Alex held up his hand. “Don’t but boss me. You and Ember are attached to this case. It’s better if we—”

  “No, it isn’t!” Ember stood with Rory. “Nima feels safe with us. Don’t do this to her. She’s had enough crap to last a lifetime.”

  Alex passed the sleeping girl to Kelsey and stood to confront his junior agents. “I’m not asking. I’m—”

  “I’m not asking, either.” Rory squared off, nose to nose with his boss. “Ember’s right. Nima’s had enough tragedy to last a lifetime. You assigned this op to Ember and me. We’ve done everything you trained us to do. Let us finish what we started.”

  Alex downright sneered. No one argued with him. It was his company, his rules. Rory took another step forward. The testosterone level in the room ratcheted to an all time high. The energy of two headstrong males squaring off woke Nima. She yawned loudly enough she caught both men’s attention. And the battle was done.

  Alex sat back down with Kelsey, nodding his chin dismissively. “Fine. Finish it. Take her to the safe house in Anacostia tonight. Then Arlington the next day, and so on.”

  Nima scrambled back onto his lap and settled down for another nap, her arms tucked beneath her and her cheek against his chest.

  The fight went out of him. “She is a special little girl, isn’t she?”

  Rory smirked. Once again, a woman had stopped Alex in his tracks, albeit a three-foot high woman this time. “You could say that.”

  This is a safe house?

  Located in Anacostia, southeast of D.C., the place appeared more derelict than respectable. It raised Rory’s hackles just being there. What was Alex thinking? With boarded up windows and the accompanying graffiti every other inner city building bore, rain and wind had plastered trash against the concrete foundation. The place was a dive. At first glance, it made no sense. At second glance, it was the perfect location. Who would suspect a safe house in one of the most dangerous neighborhoods on the Potomac?

  He ushered his girls through the rear alley and into the house, listening for the sealing hiss as the heavy steel security door clamped shut behind them. Inside was another story, as were all of the safe homes Alex had bought and restored to his precise specifications. Major security had been taken at every turn; from the steel doors and the bars on the windows to a wealth of alarms.

  The creepy sensation that he and Ember were being watched this time was well founded. Alex had enlisted the overbearing support of the FBI. Even now, the Bureau’s best had the safe house covered from all directions. He kept his pistols holstered under his arms anyway. Now, at the end of the mission, was no time to relax his guard. He knew better. Anything could happen.

  Guilt tainted everything. Rory had barely spoken with his son. It hadn’t seemed fair to go home for a quick visit only to turn around and have to leave Tyler again. He’d sounded so sad when Rory called to say he wasn’t coming home yet.

  “But Daddy, I miss you. Ax Mrs. Gobfree,” Tyler cried.

  Talking with Mrs. Gobfree only made him feel worse. “No, we’re fine, Mr. Dennison,” she assured him. “Do what you have to do. We made sugar cookies today. It kept his mind off things. He’ll be okay.”

  “How is he sleeping at night?”

  “He had a little bit of a nightmare last night, but he’s coming down with a cold. He’s been a little out of sorts today, too. He misses you.”

  The operation needed to be over and done with. It was long past time to go home.

  Ember wasn’t so chipper, either. Nima’s latest pronouncement had sounded very much like a threat and a promise. The young monk’s reaction to her words was different than David’s and the others’. He’d seemed downright frightened. Guilty. As if he’d been caught.

  David might be right after all. The change in Nima’s voice with her last declaration made Rory realize he might be out of his league. The little girl playing sweetly with Ember on the couch might just be more powerful than any of them had realized.

  He made his customary sweep through the home to ensure all doors and windows were locked, all alarms activated, and all precautions taken. Alex had stocked the place with food before they arrived. Piping hot lasagna, garlic toast, and a cold Italian pasta salad waited for them on the kitchen counter when they arrived. Whoever stocked the safes houses, they were good.

  Rory wasn’t hungry. He prowled like a caged animal. There was definitely some wiggle room in what Ember thought she’d seen. Alex was supposed to have cried when Rory died, but that’s not what happened. Besides, Ember only said he looked dead. Well, looking dead and being dead were two completely different things. He brushed the nonsense out of his mind. Worry never solved anything.

  It was nearly six p.m. and the early November night was cold. Wind howled at the door. Rain was in the forecast. He tussled Nima’s hair and joined them in the small living room, identical to the one that had blown up in Maryland. Now that was something to worry about instead of some cockamamie vision. He rolled the pinch out of his neck again. It wouldn’t leave.

  “I’m going to unpack dinner,” Ember said. “Would you watch Nima?”

  “Sure.”

  Nima clambered onto his lap, her pale eyes full of mischief.

  “You sure turned out to be a surprise, Miss Dawa. But why don’t you talk like other kids your age?” He had to know. There was so much to this child.

  She winked, and that simple childlike gesture stole his breath. Wow. How had he not seen? How had he not known? It was never that she couldn’t speak. She’d simply chosen not to. She’d chosen silence while the rest of the world had chosen noisy clamoring of ego, pride and opinion.

  When he straightened on the couch, she leaned into his chest as if she was listening to his heartbeat. He wrapped his arms around the most puzzling person he’d ever met. It made sense. Would the world listen if she were just another talking head, another celebrity media blast?

  As usual when holding her, his angst dissipated. The turmoil in his mind calmed. Nima had chosen to speak only to those who would listen. Maybe that’s how she’d fight her war this time. Maybe instead of the bloodshed foretold in ancient lore, she’d come to change hearts, to set things right. To heal from the inside of every man’s heart to the outside, like she’d done with him. To restore a more perfect peace than the one she’d restored the last time.

  The notion messed with his Christian paradigms. Her mission, if it really was to bring peace, seemed oddly familiar. Rory dipped his chin to the top of her head. The scent of baby shampoo drifted into his nose, reminding him of another child in another time who’d come just as quietly into the world with the same message. God, it all made sense.

  He held her tight, needing with all his heart to protect her from the big wide world like he protected Tyler. To hold her together, to shelter this little downy chick until she had wings to fly.

  “Thank you, Nima,” he whispered reverently.

  “Hey. Are you guys hungry?” Ember asked.

  “No. My breakfast is still stuck in my throat, but let’s feed Nima.” He lifted Nima into his arms and went into the kitchen. Ember sliced the lasagna while Rory settled Nima onto a chair and set the table. For some unknown reason there was a candle in the middle of it, so Rory lit it. The glow from the single flame added a faint glimmer of cheer.

  Once Ember and he sat with Nima between them, the Dennison tradition of a lifetime intruded. H
e reached for Ember and Nima’s hands, needing more than just the food on the table. “If it’s all right with you, I’d like to offer grace on our last night together.”

  Ember balked. “You know I don’t believe that stuff.”

  “Yes, but I do. You don’t have to listen if you don’t want to.”

  “Fine. Then let’s hear it.”

  He bowed his head and blocked the world, aware that Ember’s slender fingers still rested comfortably in his hand. The wind howling outside was the only sound. He let the prayer come forth from his heart. “Heavenly Father, I come to you tonight in humility and gratitude, seeking your wisdom for the day, your strength for the task, and your blessing on my family.” He squeezed Ember and Nima’s fingers with those words. “Amen.”

  “That wasn’t so bad,” she said playfully, one shoulder dipped in a shrug.

  He dished a small serving of everything onto Nima’s plate. She ate with relish, but Ember nibbled at the pasta salad and Rory pushed a serving of lasagna around with his fork, his mind too full for his empty stomach.

  “Have you heard the story about Alex’s daughter, Abby Stewart?” Ember asked.

  “No. I saw the pictures on his mantle, though. Those are his kids?”

  “Only the girl. The boys belonged to Kelsey,” Ember said quietly as she twirled the pasta around her fork. “But the sad thing is none of those kids are alive today.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes. Kelsey’s first husband killed her boys a couple years back. I was working for Alex then. Her ex tried to kill her, too. That’s when Alex found her.”

  A pit opened up deep inside Rory. Kelsey had lost her sons to a murderer, and yet she’d taken Nima into her home without any hesitation. A shiver raced up his neck. From the oldest to the youngest, he was surrounded by amazing women.

  “I think that’s why she and he still live in that little house,” Ember continued. “It’s kind of like they know what’s really important in life, and it’s not big mansions and yachts and stuff like that. They’ve both seen the ugliest side of mankind. They’re happy just to be taking care of each other. It’s sweet.”