Read Secret Agent Minister Online

Authors: Lenora Worth

Tags: #American Light Romantic Fiction, #Romance: Modern, #General, #Romance, #Fiction, #Fiction - Romance, #Romance - General, #Suspense, #Christian, #Religious - General, #Christian - Romance, #Religious, #Deception, #Christian - Suspense, #Christian fiction, #American Mystery & Suspense Fiction, #Clergy, #Espionage

Secret Agent Minister (16 page)

Lydia tried to reason that this man was on their side. Or so Pastor Dev wanted to believe. But what if this were a setup to get her away from Pastor Dev?

She decided in order to keep herself alive, she would pretend to be docile. For now. So she slumped down, nodding toward the man holding her as she slanted her head around.

“That’s better.” Eli pulled his hand away, then hissed in her ear. “Don’t make a sound.”

Lydia didn’t dare breathe. She waited, listening for more gunshots. All she could hear now was her own unsteady breathing. And a long sigh from the man behind her.

“We’re sure up the creek without a paddle,
chère,
” he said. “I need you to listen to me.”

Lydia sure knew this drill, but she was so worried about Pastor Dev, she couldn’t think straight. “But what about—”

“Devon knows how to take care of things in there,” he retorted before she could even form the words. “He’ll be okay.”

“Not if he’s wounded.” She squirmed around to face her captor. Then stood silent as she got her first good, long look at the notorious Eli Trudeau, aka The Disciple.

He was just a tad taller than Pastor Dev. He was dark, bronzed and baked like a golden statue. His hair was so dark, it shimmered almost black in the growing dusk. His eyes were the same way—dark, intense, brilliant with secrets. She was both intrigued and terrified.

“Hello,” he said, glancing back toward the silence coming from the house. “I’m Eli.”

“I know who you are.”


Oui,
and I know who you are. Your journal was very detailed.”

She wanted to smack him. “Where is my journal?”

“In a safe place.”

Lydia didn’t have time to dwell on that. “Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to help him?”

“I am helping him, by keeping you out of the fray.”

She pushed away from him. “I can’t do this. I can’t let him die just so I can live.”

“He would want it that way.”

“I
don’t
want it that way.”

He shrugged, held a hand up to block her way. “I can’t let you go back in there. I have to honor Dev’s wishes.”

“How do you know this is his wish? And how do I know you’re not in on this? You could easily let him die, then kill me.”

“I could do that, very easily,” he answered with another eloquent shrug. “But not today, love. Not today. Today I have to keep you safe while Dev finishes up in there.”

“So we’re just going to stand here all night and let him do battle with that evil man?”

He shook his head, his long hair falling around his grizzly face. “
Non,
I didn’t say that, now did I?”

Lydia saw the glint in his dark eyes. “I hope you’re the man Pastor Dev says you are. I need you to prove that to me.”

He grunted, pushed a hand through his hair. “I don’t need to prove anything to anybody, but I do owe my friend in there.”

“Which one?”

“You don’t trust—that’s a good thing.”

“I don’t trust. You’re right on that.”

“Well, then we have a little problem. Because I can’t do my job if you don’t behave.”

“And what exactly is your job right now?”

“To get you as far away from this cabin as possible.” He took her by the arm. “So c’mon.”

“No.” She pulled and tugged, but it was as if an iron vise had her arm in its grip. Then she tried pleading. “Please, don’t leave him in there. He’ll die.”

“He won’t die. But he will get us out of this. You have to count on that.”

“I can’t,” Lydia said, tears spilling down her face as he shoved her up the mountain. “I can’t leave him.”

Eli didn’t respond. She saw the unyielding gleam in his eyes, though. This man wouldn’t relent. So she’d just have to find a way to get back to Dev herself. And she’d just have to be the one to save them all.

SIXTEEN

H
e was alive.

That at least made Dev feel triumphant.

He was also tied up and in intense pain from the gunshot wound in his left leg. The bullet had passed through, but its path still throbbed and pulsed in protest. But that pain didn’t bother him as much as the relief of knowing Lydia was still alive, too. For now.

In the muted light from a single kerosene lamp, the other fellow didn’t look so good, either. The Peacemaker had fought valiantly, the force of evil propelling him with an almost superhuman strength. If Dev hadn’t been wounded, he might have been able to take the older man. But he
was
wounded and that slight distraction had cost him his freedom.

And given Lydia hers.

He prayed Eli would know what needed to be done. He hoped Eli would get her to safety, then disappear for his own sake. But if Dev knew Eli, and he probably knew the man better than most, then Eli would be back here very soon to end this thing one way or another. Especially since Eli now knew this man was responsible for the death of his family.

But Dev wasn’t going to sit idle while that scenario stewed. He had a plan. He always had a plan.

“You’ve worn me out,” The Peacemaker said from his place across the floor. He was leaning in front of the empty, silent fireplace, winded and wounded, his gun at rest beside him. “I do believe you cracked a couple of my ribs.”

“I’d like to do more,” Dev countered, hatred and loathing filling his soul. “You’ve caused the people I care about a lot of pain. And all for drug money.”

“Not to mention a nice estate in South America, cars, planes, boats and beautiful women.”

“You don’t have a conscience, do you?” Dev asked, amazed at how calm the other man seemed to be. “Don’t you know you won’t get away with this?”

The Peacemaker laughed, shook his head, streams of dirty sweat pouring down his face. “But I have, for years now. And once I eliminate you and those other two out there, my life will go back to being wonderful.”

“You might get rid of me, but you will have to answer to a higher source for your sins.”

The Peacemaker held up a hand. “Spare me, please. I don’t need a sermon on my eternal soul.”

“No, you don’t need it, but you’re sure going to get one when you go to meet your maker.”

“I think I’ll be just fine,” The Peacemaker replied, his whole demeanor one of calm assurance. “All of this getting through the narrow gates stuff is rather silly, don’t you think?”

Dev couldn’t say what he was thinking, but it didn’t have anything to do with the narrow gates. “When did you switch over to the dark side?”

He looked away at that. Dev watched him carefully, saw the change come over his demeanor. The Peacemaker went from being hostile and angry to quiet and reflective. “When I lost my son to CHAIM.”

That brought Dev’s head up. He was still a minister and a counselor, after all. “Want to talk about it?”

“I do not. Let’s just say that I didn’t appreciate how he gave his life for what is supposed to be such a fine, Christian organization.”

“We all take that risk when we sign up,” Dev pointed out, hoping to get to the heart of this matter.

“Do we? Or are we brainwashed and persuaded into doing someone else’s bidding in the name of God?”

“Do you feel that way?”

He looked back at Dev then, his eyes feral in the yellow lamplight. “I didn’t at first. But…you see, Pastoral, I was the one who convinced my only son to join up with our legions. He did something in his youth that I found scandalous, so I thought he might learn a valuable lesson from being amongst our ranks. I never dreamed he’d be killed at such a young age.”

“So you’re blaming yourself right along with blaming God?”

Anger unfolded like aged parchment paper over his wrinkled face. “I blame God for making me think we were all invincible. I blame God for taking my son. After he died, I died inside. I didn’t care anymore.” He gave Dev a long, hard stare. “There is nothing noble left in me, you see.”

Which meant he had nothing to lose, Dev reasoned. He could almost sympathize with this tired old man. Except that this tired old man had killed people in order to appease his own torment and guilt. Why hadn’t he turned to God, instead of away from Him?

Dev thought back over his own career in CHAIM, wondering to whom this man was referring. “Can you tell me his name? Your son, I mean?”

“He died years ago, before you were ever in the organization. You don’t need to know that.”

“I can find out on my own.”

“Not if you’re dead.”

Trying to keep the man talking, Dev said, “If you want me dead, why didn’t you kill me when you had a chance? Why did you wait for five years?”

The other man brought a knee up, then placed a hand across it. “I did think along those very lines myself at first. I almost came after both of you right after you left South America. But my operation had been compromised and it was too dangerous. I had to bide my time and stay the course in CHAIM. So I waited until The Disciple was released, then put my plan into action—killing you to set him up, thus eliminating him from CHAIM forever. But of course, that plan went awry in Atlanta. I became so angry after that failure, I wanted to see you suffer just as I had suffered. So I decided to eliminate the girl, then you. I thought by killing someone you care so deeply about, I’d have my revenge.”

Dev didn’t flinch, but that image gave him cause to push on. “Well, why didn’t you do that?”

“You foiled that plan, over and over. In Atlanta, in New Orleans, even at that fortress at Eagle Rock. It became so very tedious, sending incompetent people to do the job.”

“So you weren’t in all of those places?”

“No, I sent underlings and new hires to do my work. They are always so willing to please, but they are also very inexperienced and stupid. When I realized things were going wrong in New Orleans, I directed you and the woman toward Eagle Rock, this delicious sense of justice in my mind. You know, kill the woman, distract the agent, all the while looking like the concerned superior I’m supposed to be, that sort of thing. Alexandre let me down on all accounts, however.”

“Thank goodness,” Dev said, meaning it. He couldn’t think past what would have happened if Lydia had died there. He surely would have wound up like Eli—at some remote retreat trying to get over an unimaginable grief. Which is obviously what this man had wanted.

“I had to take matters into my own hands,” The Peacemaker explained. “I had to track The Disciple down. I knew he’d lead me to you. He might be bitter, but his heart is still weak. I had to keep tabs on him and use him.”

“Ah, because you’d so carefully set it up to make him look like the guilty one.”

“A perfect solution. That man has always been a thorn in the side of CHAIM.” He waved a hand in the air. “And now, here we are.”

“So…get it over with,” Dev goaded. “Kill me.”

“I can’t do that just yet, old boy. I have to wait for the girl to come back.”

Dev’s heart lurched at that remark, said in such a conversational voice. He didn’t want to think about that scenario, and he couldn’t let it distract him now. “She won’t be coming back.”

“Oh, but she most certainly will. She’s in love with you. And we both know love is a very powerful tool in this business. Even The Disciple with all his muscle won’t be able to hold her back.” He laughed low in his throat. “That’s the only reason I’m not out there tracking them down. I can rest here and know she will find a way to return to you. And that you, in turn, will die for her.”

Dev sat staring at the other man, thinking no truer words had ever been spoken. He loved Lydia; he was willing to die to save her. This man, whoever he was, had loved his son, and he was willing to turn to evil in order to appease that love. A thin line…a very thin line.

And Dev could see that line drawn very clearly between his kind of love and the kind this man had tried to justify.

But sitting here, he also knew that God understood all motives and all suffering, and all forms of love, good and bad. So he prayed for Lydia and Eli and himself.

And he prayed for The Peacemaker, too.

 

She was praying.

It was full dark now. The Disciple had her up on a ridge, in a spot where he had a clear view of the cabin below. They were hidden here, but Lydia felt completely exposed.

Because he was watching her like a hawk.

She had to figure out a way to sneak past him and get back to that cabin. Maybe if she got him talking.

“You sure are a man of few words,” she said, her voice calm in spite of her shaking hands.

“Not much to say at this point,
chère.

“Tell me about yourself, your life.”

“No.”

“I’d like to understand you better.”

“No one can understand me
better.
I’m beyond all understanding.”

“Pastor Dev understands you. He tried to help you.”

He went so still, she wondered if he’d turned into rock. “
Oui,
he certainly did. But he should have stayed out of it. He didn’t know what he was getting involved in.”

“You can’t blame him for what happened. All of this is that man’s fault. That man down there who’s holding your best friend—he’s the one to blame.”

He whirled, fists clenched. “You talk too much.”

Lydia glared up at him. “I want to go back and help Pastor Dev.”

He got up, moved around the makeshift camp he’d erected. All in all, he wasn’t a bad host. He’d found them water on the way up the mountain, and he’d offered her some sunflower seeds he’d managed to smuggle into the big pocket of his frayed cargo pants.

But Lydia could tell this man did not like sitting still. He moved around like a caged panther, ready to strike at any time. Lydia didn’t know how she was going to get away from such a fierce warrior.

But she was going to, somehow.

She watched him pace, saw him glance back toward the cabin. Maybe he had a plan, too. While Lydia was waiting for him to reveal that plan, she found one of her own. There was a big branch from a fallen tree near her feet. She could yield that as a weapon. She wouldn’t kill him; she’d just knock him down long enough to make a run for the hills and then on to the cabin.

And she’d be carrying that big stick with her when she got there.

 

Dev woke with a start. He hadn’t meant to doze off, but his leg was throbbing with all the precision of a marching band, beating at his fatigue, dragging him down. He so wanted to sleep for a good week, at least. But he had to stay alert.

“Don’t worry, old boy. I’m not going to fall over in a slump,” The Peacemaker said, his gaze centered on Dev. “Unlike you, I can’t sleep. I’m watching for the lovely Lydia. She’ll be here soon. I can feel it. The night is so still. Not a breeze stirring. This canyon is waiting for something to happen.”

Dev imagined Lydia was doing the same. And Eli, too, he hoped. He hoped Eli was making sure Lydia was far away from here and safe. And reinforcements would be coming soon.

But then, Dev couldn’t be completely sure of Eli’s motives, either. Surely he wouldn’t hurt Lydia just to get back at Dev. But he had brought this man right to their door. Eli could have easily outsmarted The Peacemaker, so why hadn’t he? Maybe he did it for Kissie’s sake, or maybe that had been a convenient cover for his real motives.

An uneasy feeling settled over Dev then. He couldn’t just sit here, waiting. He’d done enough waiting during this whole ordeal, thinking everyone else would help Lydia and him. That had only brought more trouble. He had to get away from The Peacemaker and find Lydia. He had to end this thing, one way or another, tonight.

 

Lydia bided her time. She could be very patient when she had to. She prayed, sometimes out loud.

“‘Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.’”

Eli whirled to stare down at her. “You are seriously getting on my last nerve.”

“I have to stay calm. Praying and quoting scripture helps me to stay centered.”

“Well, I have to think, so pray silently, okay?”

Lydia shook her head, managing to ease toward the big stick. “I thought the prayers might bring both of us some comfort.”

He grunted. “I said to be quiet.”

Lydia pretended she didn’t hear that command. “‘Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.’”

He kicked at a rock, then scoffed at her. “Mercy? Do you see any mercy around here,
catin?
” He bent close, wagging a finger in her face. “That old man down there shows no mercy. He is hard and mean and callous. He always was.”

“You know him?” Lydia asked, slipping closer to the thick tree branch. Bending over, her hands on her knees, she managed to roll it underneath her sneakers. “How do you know The Peacemaker? I mean, you’ve been with him for a while now, obviously, trekking all the way to Colorado—”

“We flew here on his private jet. It was a quick trip. He did most of the talking.”

Lydia could picture that. This man did not like to give up words. “Okay, then I guess you learned a few things about him then, right?”

Eli threw his hands up in frustration, then bent over her again. So very close. “I didn’t have to get to know him. I’ve known him most of my life.”

That admission sent up warning flares in Lydia’s mind. If The Disciple already knew The Peacemaker, then they could indeed be in on this together. “Are you holding me here so he can kill Pastor Dev? Are you in this with him, just to get revenge for whatever you think happened in South America?”

He glared down at her, his silhouette dark and forbidding in the moonlight. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, I don’t like the way you’re handling this,” she told him as she carefully rose to her feet. She had the limb in one hand now and hidden behind her back, the benefits of darkness and shadows working in her favor. It felt fairly solid, even if the weight was causing her hurt arm to protest. “I’m saying you’re just stalling and I don’t like that. I want to know why we’re just sitting here, when we should be down there helping Pastor Dev.”

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