Christ almighty.I touch my forehead, chest and shoulders even if I know that no Holy Spirit is going to help me. What the hell have I gotten myself into andhow?
“Why would I have guns?” I grind out, almost tripping over my silk robe as I vault over the destroyed confessional.
I freeze for a moment, squinting into the dust. I hear voices outside. Three, no, five distinct ones. I strain my ears, trying to catch what is being shouted. When I do, my blood turns to ice.Fuck, fuck, fuck.I haven’t heard this language in years, and I like it that way. There is an excellent reason for that.
The blond man is crawling and coughing among the bits of wall and wood on the floor. Before my brain can process what I am doing, I grab his arm and break into a sprint toward the altar, dragging him there with me. It’s more instinct and reflex than anything else.
A growl leaves me, sharp as a knife in my chest. “What have you done?!”
I only catch a glimpse of the guy’s shit-eating grin and familiar light blue eyes as I maneuver him and myself out of the way of falling debris. “Well, I got into a bit of trouble, and you are the only one who can help me? But let me tell you, you are not an easy man to find! Seriously. I’d almost given up when I randomly ran into you that night. Only I didn’t know it was you until I spoke to the hotel manager. He told me you were the priest, and I wanted to thank you, so I looked you up. Something seemed off though, so I did some more digging and eventually puttwo and two together.” He gives me his thumbs up. “I’m something of a newbie hacker protégé.”
I groan. A wooden beam collapses somewhere behind us. My church is done for! The damage repairs will cost thousands of dollars. And how the fuck do I even begin to explain what happened when I’ve got no fucking clue? Who the fuck is this guy and what the hell did he bring to my doorstep?
I crouch behind the altar and feel for the telltale bump as more dust surrounds us. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
The man coughs, flailing his arm to clear up the air around us. Then he leans in, blue eyes sparkling. “You’re Nikolas, no? Nikolas Stavros? The La Croce Nera mercenary, who everyone thinks is dead? Or…” He bites on his bottom lip, fear crossing his face. “Shit, did I get the wrong person?”
I don’t believe my ears. My heart pounds fast and loud, and my blood thrums.This is… This can’t be…But how—
I’m suddenly a live wire, ready to short-circuit. My past is behind me, has been for many years now. No one here knows the name Nikolas Stavros—I left it behind with everything else that tied me to my old life.
I focus on the destruction inside the church, inhaling slowly to recenter myself. It does nothing, my body coiling tight.Why the fuck is this annoyingly attractive young man spewing such nonsense? How does he know about me?
Just as the panic threatens to overwhelm me, I finally find what I am looking for. Relief floods me as I feel the familiar sleek body of the firearm stashed in the altar’s secret compartment. My mind empties, my thoughts secondary to muscle memory. The sensation of holding a gunin my hand is the only thing that matters, and I am grateful for that because it brings me clarity and calmness. The why-s and the how-s aren’t important right now, surviving whatever this is comes first.
I breathe in deeply, inhaling the crisp night air mixed with dust and wood particles, and I shove the man behind the altar as five hooded figures enter the church through the gaping hole in its left side.
God, this is definitely not how I expected tonight to go. I should have stayed away from this man, I knew it the moment I let him get in my car. But I am a priest—it’s my duty to help others, even if I can catch the stench of trouble oozing from them from miles away.
Fuck. It’s too late for regrets now.
I squeeze the Uzi. This was supposed to be all in my past. I took every precaution. No one knows I’m alive… I glare at the blond man. No one besides him.
How the fuck did he find me?
The young thing looks way too excited considering the predicament we are in. In fact, he’s vibrating, his eyes shimmering and his smile not dropping, like he’s just gotten a dopamine rush. Oh, for fuck’s sake! Is he one of those danger junkies? I look to the sky and mutter a curse under my breath. At least he’s not freaking out… I can work with not freaking out.
I blow air out of my nose. “Young people these days…”
“Surrender the man, Father, and no one has to get hurt!” one of the hooded intruders shouts in accented English.
It’s a lie, of course, or they wouldn’t have blown a hole in my church. Also, it doesn’t sound like he knows who I really am, but even if they didn’t kill me immediatelyafter I handed over this guy, they would the moment they recognized me.
I look up to the sky again, visible as another beam and the roof tiles it was supporting fall to their death. Haven’t I been doing my best to atone for my sins all these years? Why is this happening to me? And right before an important service, too. I click my tongue. Yes, I’m not exactly a religious man, but I’ve been doing a hell of a good job pretending to be. And now it’s all going to hell, even though I haven’t the slightest idea why.
Oh well, what’s done is done. Maybe being a fake priest is a capital offense or something. Part of me always feared this might happen, that my past might catch up to me one way or another. I guess this is it. Good thing I kept some guns lying around.
I dig deep into the darkest recesses of my soul and find the truth. Bad men like me, who did evil things, just don’t get fresh starts. I had a good run, a decade of peace and service in a community where nobody knew or feared me. I guess it’s time for the wake-up call.
I tighten my hold on the Uzi.Ah, it feels so familiar, so nostalgic, like riding a bike after many years. I know every curve, how every piece slots, how the mechanisms work together to make this little object into a deadly weapon.
Inhaling deeply, I focus on that feeling, on the control I have. Anticipation bubbles up in my chest. I’ll ask the questions later. For now, I just need to survive by all means necessary so I can interrogate my doe-eyed-soon-to-be hostage. Or victim, depending on what the man has to say about this mess. First things first though, I could use some help.
“Do you see that door? To the left,” I say, whipping my head in its direction.
Theman nods. “Yes.”
“I’ll count to three. You run as fast as you can. My office is at the end of the hallway. There is a keypad-controlled door behind the desk. The passcode is 4-1-2-6-8-0. In my bedroom, you’ll find a fake panel inside the wardrobe. Take the dark blue bag and come back. We’ll make a run for it and then you will tell me everything.” I level a warning look at the still smiling guy. “And I meaneverything. Got it?”
