S7: Holy War

He spouted some asinine rhetoric about traditional roles in the church.

"Oh, I understand, you don't want the least hint of independence in women. You would prefer they remain in subservient roles, am I correct?"

Before he could start about me being an enemy of his religion I stopped him cold.

"Look, the Catholic Church has done many great things since it's inception. But it's done a lot of bad things too, just like all major religions. When you get to the point that religion is business, you lose sight of faith. To preserve the status quo, you get rid of boat rockers."

He opened his mouth but I was on a roll. "You got rid of married priests and female ministers around 500 C.E., give or take. Realistically, how is celibacy working out? Read a headline lately? I understand the politics of celibate priests, but human nature can't be overridden. After all 39 of your Popes were married. When did the church decide to enslave women, exactly?"

He was almost screaming. "We don't enslave women!"

"Galway Laundry all the way to 1965. You enslaved young women to provide free labor. And what was their crime? All someone had to say was that they suspected them of impure thoughts and in they went. The only way out was to become of legal age, or die. Oh, there was another option, the family could buy the girls back. A fine example of a benevolent church, don't you agree? When the whole mess came out, despite enormous pressure, the Irish government decreed the victims couldn't sue the Church for slavery and unlawful imprisonment. Wonder who influenced that decision?"

I knew all this because I'd met a seventy year old woman who had been a victim. She was held for three years, and still had scars on her hands from the work she had to perform. She cleaned my flat, as well as others to make ends meet. I always gave her a generous tip every month, and a weeks pay at Christmas.

Ian and I were nose to nose by then. Sherry and Fatima got between us, and dragged me outside to cool off.

"Calm down, Pete. It doesn't matter what he says, he can't influence Teddy. The truth doesn't always win out, but in this case I'm sure it will. Now calm down, and let's go back to work."

They talked me down, and I was just going in when it happened. We'd gotten complacent as the months went by and no harm came to us. This even as the rewards for our deaths went up. I was worth three million now, the girls, Moshe, and Said two.

So I didn't expect the attack. They looked like any other college student on campus, dressed in jeans and sweatshirts. As they reached us they both pulled out knives, screaming about faithless whores and foreign devils, and attacking. Sherry was knocked down instantly, and the man stood over her knife in hand. The other was after me.

He had no talent or skill at all, swinging the blade clumsily. I deflected the blow, and crushed his windpipe with the other hand. He went down, choking and clawing at his throat. I screamed at the other and he looked over before turning back to Sherry. His last vision on earth was Moshe as he shoved the Israeli issue commando knife through his throat, hard enough to sever his spine. We'd been gone so long he came out to check on us. Back to back, we looked around wildly, but there was no one else.

Heath sorted it out later. They weren't particularly militant or religious. They were broke, living in a slum, unable to support themselves. It was strictly for the money.

Urban England is literally saturated with closed circuit cameras, to the point that when people wanted to protest they wore masks to conceal who they were. The one on our building and the one on the building across from us the caught whole thing on tape. It was very disconcerting to watch yourself kill someone, even if it was because you had to.

Of course, security tightened around us. It was a somber group for the next two months, even our work gave us no pleasure.

Then word came to us that our old friend Said had been killed, murdered by his own troops for the reward. From what we found out, they tried to take him alive because there was a bonus in it, but Said, ever the warrior, refused to surrender.

His commander, furious, executed the ones he could catch, publicly.

...

Teddy called us together. "I know there are tons of research and translations to do, and you're the best at what you do, but the decision has been made to shelve the project, at least for awhile. As important as it is, it isn't worth the life of a single one of you."

"What will happen to everything we've collected? Do you still intend to publish our work?"

"Most definitely, Pete. Never doubt that. And we'll translate and publish every thing else, but not right now. I'm putting you all on a one year sabbatical. Go home to your families, try to lead normal lives for awhile. When we deem it safe, we'll start right back up. Now, I know it will take a month or so to finish up some odds and ends. But you WILL take this time, let things cool for a bit."

We were closing out the last of our research when Teddy called, commanding us to come to London in four days. He also told us to dress in our nicest clothes. We all wondered why until the car we were in went through a series of security checks and delivered us to the front of Buckingham Palace.

Teddy grinned as he welcomed us, hurrying us along. Suddenly, we were in the presence of the Queen. Despite myself, I was impressed. She was a sharp old bird, asking a few probing questions before praising us for our work, and presenting each of with a letter of merit, while the official photographer snapped away. I still have the photo.

We were about to leave when Teddy took me to the side. "Stay, please. I have something urgent to discuss."

He led me down several hallways, stopping in front of a door guarded by two very serious looking men. Teddy showed his credentials as well as mine, and the door was opened. I looked at Teddy.

"I'm not going in, Pete. He was very specific in asking for you alone. And Pete, please, keep a civil tongue in your head."

I knew who he was the minute I saw him, and wasn't very surprised to see Ian in the room. It was the Pope. He was here on an official visit, and had sent word through Ian that he would like to see me, and I had politely declined, which sent Ian into fits.

The Pope actually grinned. "Hello, Mr. Trammel. To quote a different religion, If Mohammed won't come to the mountain, well..."

I couldn't help but smile back. "Good afternoon, your..." I looked at Ian. "Your Holiness!," he hissed, grinding his teeth.

"Well, good afternoon Your Holiness. I'll shake your hand, but I'm not kissing any rings."

"Fair enough then," he said, rising and offering his hand. I thought Ian was going to pass out. "Walk with me, Pete, if you would."

We walked out into a private garden. He turned, still smiling. "Relax, please. I just wanted to meet the man who is going to make my life interesting for years to come. Poor Ian hasn't slept well since he met you."

"Ian is a good man and an excellent researcher, Your Holiness, even if he is a little rigid in his interpretations sometimes."

"I'm sure he'd be shocked to hear you say that. He thinks you hate him."

"Not at all, although I do admit to stirring him up once in a while, for fun."

Pleasantries out of the way, he turned to the subject at hand.

"How revolutionary is it?"

"Generally, not as much as you'd think. The letters are interesting, exposing the Apostles and Mary as somewhat ordinary people aside from religion. Mary REALLY didn't like Peter, and wasn't wild about some of the rest. Apparently they all weren't fond of Judas, because he controlled the money, and wasn't above allowing himself a few luxuries the others didn't get. And Peter returned the feelings Mary had for him."

The Pope nodded, before asking the big one. "And her Gospel?"

"Probably won't set well with the Church. A lot of it is just common sense, but some of it, well, let's just say Ian won't be the only one in the Church who loses sleep."

"And you intend to go forward with the publication?"

"Absolutely. Once it's out, you can choose to acknowledge it or ignore it, but millions will read it. I'd advise you to have your priests ready for some hard questions."

He sighed as we walked back inside. "So be it. If it's the will of God that it come to light, it will. Thank you for meeting with me, Pete. Be careful and go with God." He stuck his hand out and I shook it, and the audience was over.

I thought about it on the way home. He was a nice guy, had lived an interesting life before becoming a priest. Heck, he was even a bouncer for a while, so he was pretty grounded in what real life was like. Maybe he would use our information to better his Church.

I was really surprised two weeks later when Ian presented me with a small gold cross, a present from the Pontiff, blessed personally by His Holiness. There was also a picture of us shaking hands. I didn't remember a photographer. To Ian's surprise, I donned it immediately, and still wear it. Despite my beliefs, it couldn't hurt. I put the photo beside the one with the Queen.

We decided as a farewell gesture to turn some of the artifacts back over to the countries that had stable governments, regardless of what they did with it. We had the knowledge they contained, and that would be enough.

We had packed carefully, and had decided that all of us would go, our last act as a group for a long time. Teddy had made all the arrangements, and all we had to do was show up.

Sasha had taken her kids back to Russia for a visit, and we all missed them, well, the kids anyway. Sasha was a bit remote, and I caught her staring at each of us on different occasions. I always thought she resented the fact that her husband had died saving us. She'd realize she was caught, blush, and look away.

...

It was nine at night, and Sherry, Fatima, and I were having a nightcap when the shooting started. Automatic weapons, at least three. They had to be shooting at Moshe and his family since we were all together.

"Into the tunnels! Quick!"

I gave Sherry one of the Makarovs and a spare clip. "If anyone comes down the tunnel and doesn't identify themselves, shoot. I'm going to help Moshe."

I slipped into the tunnels and came to his closet, giving the designated knock sequence, and shoved it open. Ruth and the kids were huddled together on the floor. I got them up and headed towards the exit point. "Yell when you go around corners so the girls will know it's you. No matter what you hear behind you, do not stop until you are all safe. Understand?"

They nodded as they hurried off. I peaked into the living room to see Moshe behind the couch, his AK 47 in his hands and his pistol beside him. He almost shot me when I called his name. When he recovered he gave me a summary. "Four, that I can determine, all with automatic rifles. One has a grenade launcher. It looks bad, Pete."

"That's why we're getting out of Dodge! You family is already in the tunnels, we need to catch up."

We closed the doors gently, wondering how much time we had before they entered the apartment and discovered us missing. Before going down the tunnel, I popped into the girl's apartment, grabbing the shotgun and pistols. I risked peeking out and saw them systematically shooting into all the apartments. When they swept by me I stuck the shotgun out of a broken window, and shot one at almost point blank range. His head literally exploded, and I swept the gun, shooting another who had his back turned right in the ass. His lower extremities seemed to lose control as he sank to the ground. There were three more and as they turned their attention to me I scooted into the tunnels. Moshe had paused to wait for me and stood guard as I reloaded the shot gun. We both heard the explosions, and knew the apartments were toast.

We were running down the tunnel when it hit me. Just ahead was a little nave, that protruded a little on one side. If you were going down the tunnel and looked back, the person couldn't be seen. I stopped, indicating the curve ahead.

"Get into position. When the shooting starts, help me out." He nodded and ran around the curve.

It took them so long to find the tunnels I had time to get my breathing under control. They were moving rapidly, pausing time to time to listen. I'd underestimated their numbers, and five went by me. I waited until they were almost to the curve before stepping out. I had no mercy, and put two down with head shots before they realized I was there, I ducked back into the nave, and thirty seconds later heard Moshe let loose on full automatic. I jumped back out to see only one standing, and I almost had the shotgun to his chest when I pulled the trigger. It almost blew him in two.

Not hanging around to see if there were more, we rushed to the meeting point, yelling loudly at every curve. We went out into the woodland, to find them in defensive positions, covering the entrance.

"I called Heath and the locals have to know something is up with all the arms fire. He's on his way with help, and told us to hold our position if we could. I told him to approach carefully and make himself known, because we're not putting down our weapons." Sherry said all this while holding the pistol tightly.

I gave Fatima the shotgun, fully reloaded. Ruth and the kids were clustered around Moshe, and I was shocked to see him bleeding.

"You're hit!" I said in surprise.

He managed as much as a grin as he could through the pain. "So are you."

I reached up, feeling the blood seep down my forehead. The bullet had cut a perfect furrow across my scalp, that required twenty stitches. Moshe was shot through his upper left arm, and had a furrow in his skin just above the hip bone.

Heath arrived forty minutes later with a full squad of SAS, who immediately split, part locking the area down and administering first aid, while the other half swept the tunnels. The squad leader came out minutes later wanting to know how many were involved in the firefight, amazed that such a defense could be mounted by two men. He gave us a little intel as we waited to be evacuated.

"As far as we can determine, you accounted for eight of the attackers. There were four more, two fell in fights with the campus security and local constables, but two seemed to escape, and one was definitely wounded. Sadly there are two dead on our side, one constable, one campus security."

We could hear multiple helicopters approaching and we were led into a field, loaded and taken to a military base in Scotland, where we were on lockdown for four days before Teddy appeared.

"Hell to pay," he said, when we asked him what was going on. "We found one terrorist. He'd been shot in the head by his mate we assume, because he was slowing down their escape. Thanks to CCTV and informants, we followed the back trail to their supporters. Eleven arrests so far, all looking at life for their part, and so far none have talked. They think the last attacker is in France now, but they've lost him. I've talked to all your families to let them know you're alive, and you can call them as soon as we leave here."

He sighed. "You can go back to university to pack up your belongings, but you can't stay. Parents are threatening to pull their children out of class if you return."

All of us understood. We'd taken a peaceful college village and turned it into a war zone. It would only have been a matter of time before there was 'collateral' damage. Heck, there already was if you counted the two officers who had fallen. Definitely time to leave town.

Sashas' apartment was a bombed out shell. The girls' home took the next highest amount of damage, but they were able to salvage most of their personal stuff. Moshes' and mine were the least damaged, if you count being riddled with bullets. We gathered our stuff, made arrangements, and two days later we were all standing at the airport.

I was going back to the States, Moshe back to Israel, and the girls were bound for parts unknown. We had been together almost five years, shared experiences normal people could only imagined, risked our lives for each other, so the bond was deep.

There was an understanding between us and Teddy. He had two more papers to write that would take close to a year, and then we were going to meet again, and return as much of the stuff we'd taken as humanly possible.

I stood and watched as jets took them away, sad and relieved at the same time. I turned to see Maddy standing behind me. She touched my arm almost shyly, then hugged me. Hard.

...

"I'm glad it's over. Pete. You've already beaten the law of averages too many times. Sooner or later your luck would run out. Come on, I'm taking you home."

Maddy flashed her credentials and we were escorted to a private jet, soon winging over the Atlantic. We were in the back, and after about two hours she whispered something to the steward. He smiled and closed the privacy panel. She came over slowly, shedding her clothes. Even at her age, she had a very nice body.

"Time for your induction into the Mile High Club, sweetheart. Lose those clothes and join me."

She didn't have to ask twice. It had been a while, and a loving, physical session with a good looking woman would do wonders for my bruised body and mind. I approached her and she commanded me to stand still. I obeyed, sensing it was important to her.

She was slightly taller than me, so it was easy to kiss my head where the bullet struck, then kissed my arm where that bullet went through, back up to the scar on my cheek. It was at that moment I realized how truly lucky I was, being that close to death three times and still standing. She sat down and pulled me to her, kissing the scar on my stomach and giggling. I'd gotten that wound while with her, rolling around in a warm summer rain. Neither of us saw the corkscrew we'd dropped, and I rolled right over it, putting a six inch gash in my belly. It was hard for either of us to keep a straight face in the emergency when the nurse asked how it happened. She caught on at once and smiled, telling me to be more aware of my surroundings, no matter how distracted I got. It slowed us down, and she had to do most of the work, but we still made love three times that weekend.

She reached for my erection, gently stroking it as she continued to kiss my stomach. I looked down and saw her ring flash, bringing another smile to my face.

She was really surprised that I knew her birthday, even more surprised I knew her ring size. Three small diamonds in white gold, her favorite, custom built by my Israeli jeweler. I slipped it on her finger during the nice dinner I'd taken her to. She didn't know how to respond, so I kissed her to stop her budding protests.

"You've been there when I've really, really needed a friend, the only one besides family who knows the whole story of my life. I know there will never be anything permanent between us, but I will always love you for what you are, a good friend. So wear the ring, look down every once in a while and remember there is someone out there you can always count on. Call me and I'll come, for anything you need. Anything."

Tough, strong, resilient Madeline cried like a baby, and has always had it on since. In some countries in Europe the right finger is the marriage finger, and if we'd go somewhere on one of her infrequent holidays, if people asked if she was my wife, I'd grin and say she was right now, which always made her blush.

We made slow languid love, neither of us in a mood to hurry. By now I knew her triggers, and tried to make it remarkable. By the way she cried when we were done, I believe I accomplished my goal. We drifted off the sleep.

She woke me later, pulling me on to her. "We need to hurry! We'll be landing in twenty five minutes, and we need to be presentably."