“Don’t worry cousin. This is nothing that I haven’t done before.” The younger woman said with a crooked smile. “Only this time I won’t have to break into the police station. It’s quite the change for me.”

“I don’t even want to know.” Samantha groaned. “Just remember that you’re a paid courier there to drop off a package for the Organized Crime Division.”

“I know, I know. We’ve gone over it seven times, Samantha. I walk in, report to the Desk Sergeant, tell him I have a package for Lieutenant Jackson More, Organized Crime Division. Have him sign, then walk away.” Angelic picked up the plain brown paper wrapped package. Its size belied its weight. “Damn. I didn’t realize how heavy this was until now. I hope that this Lieutenant More doesn’t ignore the importance of this package.”

“Don’t worry Angelic. Notice the return address?” Samantha asked smirking. “That is the address for the FBI’s central evidence lockup. Trust me. Lieutenant Jackson More will rip that paper off just to make sure there’s no evidence tags on those files, ledgers, flash drives and recordings. That is a potential political timebomb. One that he wants nothing to do with. But he’ll still have to verify that none of that is stolen or lost evidence. Once he does that, he’ll be banging down the door of a every last ADA from the Big Apple to Buffalo to get the needed warrants.”

“If you say so.” Placing the red baseball cap on her head Angelic took a deep breath. “Here I go. Wish me luck, cousin.”

“You don’t need it, Angelic. Just work the shirt and jeans. Trust me. Those boys and gals will be too busy scoping out your bod to pay attention to your face.” Samantha giggled as Angelic threw her a dirty look as she closed the door to the truck.

As Angelic walked through the entrance Sam’s team phone rang. “White Swan here. Go head Stronghold.”

“Where’s the November Tango, White Swan?” Kimberly asked.

“Just walking through the door of the State Police HQ. Why? Something go wrong with the rest of the Ground Team?” The worry was clear for all to hear in Samantha’s voice.

“Nothing’s wrong White Swan. We just have a question for her.” Kimberly said.

“May be I can help?” Samantha offered.

“This is one time that we need your expert on the Church. Something went down in Miami. An execution on the Interstate. It was public, extremely violent, and bloody. Looks like your standard Drug Cartel execution but without collateral. No innocent by standers.” Kimberly explained.

“Let me guess. You want to know if the Iscariot Division would pull something like this and blame the cartels. I can tell you now that the answer is yes. Especially if the person executed had somehow got a local strike team burned.” Samantha told them. “Hell. They would do something like that if there was even a hint of a strike team being even slightly singed or well done on the grill.”

“You sound awfully sure of that White Swan.” Kimberly stated.

“Dealt with the cleanup for one of their burned teams before Stronghold. A sure sign of that being the case would be the weapon they used.” Samantha stated as she thought back to that six years ago.

“What did they use?” Kimberly asked quickly and fearing the answer.

“A M-134 minigun, Stronghold. Remember that café in London Texas six years ago? That was in retaliation for an informant getting an Iscariot Strike team burned in Dallas two months earlier.” Samantha growled. “The only good thing that came out of that mess was the misidentification of the weapon.”

“How the hell could that be a good thing, White Swan?” Krystel demanded.

“It proved the point that ALL automatic weapons are AK-47’s or AR-15’s in the eyes of the average person on the street.” Samantha’s snarky reply confused the three seasoned operators, so they didn’t comment. To them there was no way to confuse a crew served heavy weapon with an assault rifle.

Kimberly though had to get back on track with her questioning. “Are you sure they used an M-134? Those are heavily controlled. You sure it wasn’t a M-60 or M-240? All three are the same caliber after all.”

“The sheer volume of fire ruled out the M60s or M240s. Not even if you set them up in twin or quad mounts do you get the same result. Not with the short firing time of the attack. There was way too many spent casings lying around for it to have been anything other than a minigun.” Samantha answered emphatically. “There are four other open cases along those same lines. Though you would have to dig through Interpol files to find them.”

“Sounds like you’ve been doing a little more than keeping track of the Iscariot Division, White Swan. Care to save us the time of hunting down those case files?” Kimberly asked.

Samantha chuckled. “Alright Stronghold. The cases you want to look for are May 21st, 1996 in Warsaw, June 9th, 2001, Prague, August 15th,2009 Athens, the last one will be a bitch to find because it is unsubstantiated December 10th ,2010 Munich. The first three are confirmed through local contacts.”

“Interesting. Sounds like you've been spending a lot of time tracking the Iscariot strike teams? I wonder how much this intel has cost you and how you managed to pay, White Swan?” Kimberly bluntly asked.

“I’ve spent the last eighteen years of my life tracking those strike teams as for the money spent to get that intel. Who knows, it’s only money. Money well spent in my mind, Captain.” Samantha was telling the Command Staff the honest truth. She really had spent 18 years and more money than she could keep track of hunting for those strike teams. She had her reasons for knowing where every team was in the world. The main reason was simple. One day she would kill them all, every last one of them, herself.

“Hold one Stronghold. Here comes our thief.” The passenger door opened and closed faster than the Command Staff was expecting. “Did you get it delivered? Did the Desk Sergeant give you any grief?”

“Delivered straight into the hands of the Lieutenant. The Desk Sergeant just paged the Lieutenant, had him come down and sign for the package. No muss, no fuss. Now get us out of here before you’re spotted.” Angelic ordered.

As Samantha was backing out Kimberly talked with Angelic. “Is there a problem for White Swan, November Tango?”

“I don’t know, Stronghold. But there are ten US Deputy Marshals waiting around the entrance of the Head Quarters. One of them was named Chandler.” Angelic almost panted.

“Are you sure about that Inspector’s ID November Tango?” Kimberly snapped.

“I was close enough to see the man’s badge and they called him by name, Stronghold. So yeah I’m sure.” Angelic snapped. “He had a nice pistol and seems to like it a lot.”

“How can you tell that?” Krystel asked.

“Let’s just say that most pistol handles don’t shine like that without a good deal of cleaning and leave it at that, Stronghold.” Angelic giggled. The sexual innuendo was not lost on the Command Staff.

“Go on and get out of there Bravo team. Alpha team is an hour ahead of you. No need to rush your ride home will wait.” Kimberly said through her chuckling. “November Tango you wouldn’t happen to have any idea on the number of Iscariot Strike teams working in the US?”

“Sorry, but no, Stronghold. That is one of the most closely guarded secrets in the Iscariot Division. Outside of the actual number of their members.” Angelic answered as she turned thoughtful. “If I had to guess; I would say at least one regular Strike team per region, and four independent operatives posing as parish priests within the major cities.”

“Is it an informed guess or just plain gut feeling?” Kimberly asked.

“Gut feeling backed up by solid intel and personal experience, Stronghold.” Angelic answered honestly. “I hate to say this, but with those parish priests the Iscariot Division can pull from a massive pool of local assets.”

“Okay you said this guess was backed by solid intel and personal experience. What do you mean?” Kimberly asked this time.

“Certain members of the Saint Nicholas Order.” Angelic started off with.

“The ones with criminal backgrounds. Such as your own.” Only to be interrupted by Kimberly.

“Yes. Members like me. Thieves, grifters, hackers and hitters every last one of us. A member of the Redeemed Ones. There are you happy?” Angelic snapped.

“If you think I'll apologize; your wrong, Sister. Own what you are or do something about it.” Kimberly answered bluntly.

“Yes. You are correct, Captain. I know that most of us within the Redeemed Ones have more to atone for than most. Please understand that we are all extremely devout in our Faith.” Angelic said as she bowed her head. “Where was I?”

“You were talking about how certain members of your old order had knowledge of the Iscariot Divisions operations.” Krystel answered.

“I remember now. As I was saying, whenever we leave Rome or our home Convent, we’re given a list of numbers to call in case of emergencies. Most are numbers for local parish churches. A few of them, were for small businesses. Ones that would not stand out. Places like corner stores, local liquor stores, or the neighborhood news stand.” Angelic explained. “Then there was always a number of last resort. An unlisted number.”

“Were you given a list like that for this operation by chance?” Kimberly asked quickly.

“Not this time, Stronghold. I was told by the Archbishop that I wouldn’t need anything other than my travel bag and working kit.” Angelic left the rest of what she was told unsaid. It was implied. “He told me that everything I would need would be provided on this end. Why?”

“Just wondering.” Kimberly answered.

“Just how massive of an operation are we talking about here?” Krystel commented on without realizing her mike was open.

“Like your US Marshals, the Iscariot Division has a LONG ARM and further REACH. They are everywhere and nowhere. Seen and unseen. They are the shadows of the Holy Roman Catholic Church.” The more that Angelic described the Iscariot Division the more her hate and fear of them could be heard.

“Well, their time is coming to an end, cousin.” Samantha snarled. “At least for one section.”

“Have you figured out how you’re going to get in, White Swan?” Kimberly asked.

“I believe that is where I come in Stronghold.” Angelic chuckled. “The sheer number of nuns in the world will be to our advantage. And the only Order that is just as secretive about their members as the Iscariot Division is my old Order. I have more than enough spare habits. The White Swan and I are close enough in size she can use one. The only problem will be a letter of introduction. We’ll need one of those to get us past the guards.”

“I believe that the good Father in Freeport will be able to help us with that Stronghold.” Samantha chuckled. “I believe that he would be more than willing to write the letter. Just to satisfy his funny bone.”

“Are you talking about Father Clancy?” Angelic asked with a grin.

Kimberly asked. “You're familiar with that name, November Tango?”

“I was told that if I was ordered to stand down by the Marshal. I was to head for Freeport and report to Father Clancy.” Angelic giggled as she remembered the last of her instructions should she as have been ordered to stand down by her aunt. “I was actually ordered to enjoy the sun, buy a bikini and work on my tan until I was contacted by my Order.”

“That sounds like your Superior wanted you out of the way if things should get dicey.” Krystel surmised.

“Knowing the Archbishop, that would be in line with his MO for protecting the Clergy under him.” Angelic surmised. “At least the ones he feels deserving of his protection. He won’t think twice about leaving someone to swing if they failed to keep their vows or work towards redemption.”

“Can you give us an example of who he would let get burned?” Kimberly asked.

“Every last member of Section twenty-one in the Iscariots.” Angelic answered. She didn’t even have to think about who the Archbishop wanted gone. No matter how bloody that removal could get.

“Any particular reason why?” Kimberly asked.

“Section Twenty-one holds the worst members of the Iscariots. Burned spies, terrorists, former mercenaries and soldiers wanted for war crimes, murders of every stripe, you name it, Section Twenty-one has someone who fits the bill. There’s not one member that doesn’t have a death sentence hanging over their head somewhere in the world.” Angelic answered honestly with more than a little disgust. “I know that all are supposed to be redeemable in the eyes of our Lord, but some people don’t deserve the opportunity.”

“November Tango, if a Strike Team in the States was burned. What would be their extraction orders?” Kimberly asked quickly. “And if they weren’t burned. What kind of reason would they needed to perform an execution and then extract as if they were burned?”

Angelic thought fast about what would force an Iscariot Strike team to act in the manner described. “I can only think of one thing. The Judas Protocols. One of their informants must have endangered the team in such a way that they would take lethal action, then burn their base of operations before extracting. It has only happened four times in the last twenty years.”

That surprised Kimberly. “How do you know about this? You weren’t part of the Iscariots until recently. Shouldn’t that intel be classified to a degree?”

“Oh, it is Stronghold. But like all clandestine operations, something always gets out. The only way to make sure something remains a secret is to tell only one person then kill that person in front of God and everybody.” Angelic chuckled. “There isn’t a member of the Order of Saint Nicholas that hasn’t heard about the Judas Protocols. Why I doubt that there’s any member of the clergy that doesn’t know about them. Except for the novices.”

“Are you really saying that these Judas Protocols are the worst keep secret within the Church?” Kimberly snarked.

“Pretty much. I think that the only one that is even more out there are the DaVinci Codes and the Rose Line.” Angelic grunted.

“Wait that’s not fiction? It’s actually true.” Krystel asked bluntly.

“Save it for later.” Kimberly ordered.

Angelic chuckled. “We’ll get together one night in Freeport. I’ll tell you the truth behind the stories that inspired both the book and the movie. Say over a few of those umbrella drinks.”

“Maybe.” Krystel replied.

“Let’s get back on topic.” Kimberly stated. “If a Strike Team operating in Miami were burned or instituted Judas Protocols. Where would they extract to?”

“They would head for the nearest Sanctuary Church.” Angelic said just before turning thoughtful. “You said they were operating in Miami.”

“That’s correct. Does that have any meaning?” Kimberly asked.

“They’ll most likely head for Freeport. If they are burned, as you think they are, then that’s where they would go. It’s a good bet that they burned their office and all connections to their operations before leaving. If, and this is a big if, they ever get reactivated it won’t be for a year, or more. They’ll spend their time on the beach, blend in with the local population, work odd jobs or open a small business of some type. Plus, work around the church and orphanage. There is something you should know about most of these Strike Teams. Most of the Strike Team members, outside of those in Section Twenty-one, were raised in Church run orphanages. They’re like small families. They never number less than six or more than ten and always have at least two female members. At the bare minimum each team consists of the following master mind, grifter, hacker, thief, forger, and at least one military trained hitter for security reasons. All of whom have been trained by the best in the business. Before you ask, yes I’ve worked with a few of these teams in the past.” Angelic told them as a smile came to her face as she remembered her favorite team. “The best team I ever worked with was out of Boston. About four years ago on a high end art forgery case.”

“These people don’t sound like your everyday SpecOps team. More like a high end heist or con crew.” Kimberly surmised.

“Don’t underestimate them Stronghold. They can turn deadly at the drop of a hat. The best bet is to just leave them alone. They’ll fade into the population until the heat is off them or Head Quarters calls them home. If the Church doesn’t call them home, they’ll accept the fact that they’re burned and try to rebuild their lives as best they can. Using their skills to help people where and when they can. Turning over what money they receive to the local Sanctuary Church. Most of the Strikes Teams are nothing like the thugs of Section Twenty-one. Those teams never work with anyone else.” Angelic told the Command Staff honestly.

“Do you have any idea of how many Strike Teams this Section Twenty-one has in its organization?” Kimberly asked.

“Your guess is as good as any, Stronghold. The only people who know the exact number of Strike Teams for any one section is the Archbishop and his personal staff.” Angelic once again turned thoughtful. “If I had to hazard a guess. I would say that there are at least ten per section. Most likely more for Section Twenty-one. Simply because they handle most of the off the books and black bag operations for the Iscariots.”

Kimberly groaned. “Damn it. Looks like we need a more in-depth briefing on Section Twenty-one’s capabilities. One that will have to wait until you’re back at base.”

“Understood, Stronghold. We’ll workup a report of what we know during the flight home.” Samantha snarled as she hated paperwork. “And for the record. I don’t like the idea of these people pissing in our backyard either.”

Kimberly admitted. “Everybody is always up to something.”

“Wouldn't that be something the Sergeant Major would say?” Samantha remarked.

“Probably; if she were here.” Kimberly replied.

That got Samantha's attention. “She's not there? What do you mean, she's not there?”

“Exactly that. She is not here. The world doesn't patiently await a free moment. There are other things that demand attention besides who you deal with.” Kimberly reminded.

“So, where did she go?” Angelic asked.

“Good question.” Kimberly and Krystel said in unison and Kimberly added. “We don't know. Orders were Eyes Only. Eglin is all we know. That and whatever it is has to be serious. Nobody else was allowed to go.”

“So much for everybody gets backup.” Samantha growled.

Kimberly said flatly. “They do, unless the people that give us orders say, 'go alone'. You know, the assholes that get elected and pretend they don't have anything to do with us. They can decide if you go alone, on a one-way ticket into Hell. Naturally, they don't expect you to come back.”

“I thought she was retired and not deployable?” Samantha asked, confused.

Kimberly answered. “She is retired. Nobody said she wasn't deployable. See you when you get here. Out.”

With that the call disconnected.

Sam looked over at Angelic. “Cousin I hope you’re ready to have a scope shoved up your ass. Because I won’t be the only one that wants to know everything you do about those Strike Teams.”

“I am confused. Why is this Sergeant Major going somewhere disturbing?” Angelic asked.

Samantha shook her head. “I'm confused too. Annette told me directly she was supposed to be recovering from injuries. Unless she wasn't telling Annette the truth about that.”

Offices of Organized Crime Division.

Billy Chandler and his Deputies stood quietly off to one side as Lieutenant Jackson More opened the mysterious package. Only Chandler and his team had any idea of what could be going on. They had seen it happen before.

Billy’s second in command, Bridgit Stevens, whispered. “How much you want to bet that is a package from our friends, Boss?”

“Not even a dime, Bridgit. I know that package is a fucking timebomb waiting to blow. We’ve seen one too many times.” Billy answered barely above a whisper. “Besides, we’re only here to hand off that mess in New York.”

“About that Boss. Why are we making the hand off here? Shouldn’t the jokers in New York be handling the prosecution of those scumbags?” Asked one of Billy’s two generalists on the team, Doug Hurtz.

“All I know is that the State DA wanted this case tried up here. He said something about protecting those novice nuns and avoiding a political nightmare.” Billy answered the man and chuckled. “Personally, I think the guys in New York knew a shit storm when they saw it and passed the buck up the chain. Not that I blame those guys. If I could pass this shit storm off to someone else right now; I would.”

“Why in the world would you do that boss? Of all the SOG teams; we’ve got the best track record for handling these types of cases.” Asked Deputy Debra Couzins, his team’s Computer Crimes Specialist.

“Because no matter what happens. Sooner or later the Holy Roman Catholic Church is going to get involved. By that I mean, the guys in the red robes and pointy fucking hats Catholic Church, Deb. Remember almost half of those kids we rescued were from Eastern European Convents. NYPD is still trying to get enough translators together to take their statements, let alone trying to figure out which country we have to send them back to or even if we can send them home.” Billy grumbled.

“What do you mean if we can send them home boss? They’re here illegally.” Bridgit said quickly not grasping the situation.

“Those girls were all novice nuns, Bridgit. They may have entered illegally, but they’re still members of the Clergy. Very young members of the Clergy, but still members none the less. They are therefore granted a certain amount of diplomatic immunity.” Billy told his team. He pointed over at More. “And there is the face I’ve been waiting to see.”

“Son of a bitch! Where’s that courier? Get that woman back in here, now!” Jackson More yelled at the top of his lungs.

“Time for me to step in before things get out of hand.” Billy sighed. Holding out his hand Billy walked up to the man. “Lieutenant Jackson, Supervisory Deputy William Chandler, I believe that I can give you a little help with that package you just received.”

“I hope like hell you can Deputy. Because this package supposedly came from the FBI’s central evidence lockup. With all the proper stamps and seals.” More snapped, then sighed at the look Chandler gave him. “Sorry about that, Deputy or is it Inspector?”

“William or Billy will do Lieutenant. I don’t stand on formality and neither does my team.” Billy answered smiling as he point over at the pile of evidence on the Lieutenant’s desk. “I will give you one piece of advice. If that pile of evidence came from the people that I think it did, it’s solid.”

“We don’t go for black bag operations in this State, Supervisory Deputy Chandler.” More almost snarled. “If you know who gathered that evidence then you’re required by law to turn them over to me. Especially if they’re Law Enforcement. I don't care which branch.”

Hearing this Chandler’s team all started laughing. “Do I sound like I’m joking here Deputies? Who gathered that evidence?”

“They’re not laughing at you Lieutenant. They’re laughing at the situation.” Billy said as he chuckled. “Before you go making demands to know who gathered that intel, I suggest you call US Marshal Dorothy Rose. My boss.”

“Just why would I want to do that? Especially when I can just have your asses arrested for impeding justice, interference with an investigation, and just about everything else I can fucking think of?” The Lieutenant snarled.

This time 'Bad' Billy Chandler, former NEMESIS operator, didn’t even bother with trying to be civil. “Go right the fuck ahead and try, cockbite. I won’t even need my team to tear you and your fuck nuggets a new ass. If I let them get involved. Your commander will be attending your funerals.”

More and his officer took one look at the gathered US Deputy Marshals. For some reason the State Police Investigators decided that discretion was the better part of valor for once. It might have to do with the fact that even the smallest of them, Debra Couzins, was wearing an evil nasty grin. It was almost as if the team of SOG Deputies wanted more than just a small piece of these State cops. One of the reasons that Billy Chandler’s team had become so good at their jobs was because of his training. Each and every one of them could now go toe-to-toe with just about any prep they went after. The SOG team under Billy Chandler's command were now one of the meanest and the best out of all the SOG teams in the US Marshals.

“Fine. Have it your way Deputy. What can you tell me about the people who gather this evidence?” More demanded.

“That it's solid and any leads you develop from it will lead you to one massive case making career.” Billy turned to his team. “Oh, and Lieutenant. Take a piece of advice. Don’t go looking for the people who gave you that evidence. All it’ll get you is ulcers and a drinking problem.”

Looking over at his team. “Let’s go people. We got a case to hand off, and a flight to catch. Hopefully we’ll be home in time for dinner.”

With that the Deputies went in search of the Captain and DA that would be taking over for the New York case. As they were walking down the hallway a young State Trooper handed Chandler a note as he passed the team. Chandler waited until they were out More’s sight before reading the note.

‘Captain Chandler it has been a pleasure to work with you and your team. The evidence that was delivered to Lieutenant More will lead to a Harmon & Gary 45000 Heavy Security Safe at the offices for Charles Andrews. Be advised that this safe is a ‘dead man’ security safe. No matter what happens, keep your team out of his investigation. Your friends in dark and scary places.’

Chandler spun around and called out. “Excuse me Officer. Where did this message come from?”

“Don’t know Inspector. It came across the teletype at the Patrol Desk. I was just told to find and give it you. The header might tell you where it came from. It’s at the top of the page.” The Trooper said and headed for the exit.

Chandler looked to the top of the page. He started to laugh at the origin address. Handing the note over to Bridgit at her questioning look he just shook his head and continued to laugh. Bridgit started to laugh then passed the note around to the rest of the team. “You know something boss. One of these days we’re really need to find out how they are able to bypass the security on our com-lines.”

“I doubt that we ever will, Bridgit. They’re just too damn good.” Debby put in between chuckles. “Though I highly doubt the boss will be happy.”

“Why do you say that, Deb?” Jimbo Hall asked. “So, what if they used our Headquarters fax number.”

“Jimbo, that is Marshal Rose’s personal fax line. Not the normal BOLO number.” Debby chuckled as the rest of the team got the inside joke.

“Oh man! The big boss is going to be all kinds of pissed off this time.” Rick Martian said as he stumbled at hearing who the fax line belonged to.

“At least they didn’t use my own.” Billy told his team with a smile. “That would just be adding insult to injury.”

The SOG team just laughed even harder. The State Police officers that passed them in the hall just looked on at the strange SOG team. Most thought that they were just like every other Fed. Glory hounds and batshit crazy.

Grand Bahama International Airport, Freeport, Grand Bahama: 1745

Sister Mary Clarence stepped away from the terminal into the sweltering heat and humidity of the Bahamas. She was ill prepared for the for the oppressive heat of the islands. She had left Rome dressed in her usual all black habit and heavy wool tights. Not even the knee length slit lent her any relief from the island’s heat. She knew that she would need to obtain more island friendly habits and light weight tights. She knew the second that she left the offices of Father Daniel and Monsignor Delacorte she would not be returning to Rome in the near future. Most likely not for two or three years.

The signed and sealed orders in her purse that allowed her to pass through the Customs lines unmolested were a double-edge sword. They allowed her to travel the world with ease until she reached Grand Bahama. Once there though she would need a matching set of orders to leave the island. This was a one way trip that Sister Mary didn’t realize until it was too late.

“Sister! Sister! You need a cab?” One of the taxi drivers called out to her.

“Yes, please. I need to find a Father Clancy. You wouldn’t happen to know where he is would you?” Sister Mary asked happily.

“You must be newly come from Rome, Sister.” The driver laughed. “Everybody knows the good Father. And every cabbie knows where to find him at this time of the day. Though I believe you would rather go to the convent so you can change first. The other Sisters will be able to help you better right now.”

Taking her luggage, the cabdriver put it in the trunk of his car after opening the rear passenger door for Mary. Once they were on the way Sister Mary approached the subject of Father Clancy again. “Um… excuse me driver. But you hinted that Father Clancy won’t be at his Church. Why’s that?”

When the cabdriver chuckled Sister Mary began to wonder about the man Father Daniel had sent her to. “Do not worry Sister. Father Clancy isn’t in some dive or bar. He is just out working with his sports teams.”

“Oh, I see! The good Father is working with some kind of youth organization. Does he do that often?” Mary breathed a sigh of relief. She had heard stories of some priests and nuns succumbing to the ways of the island life style.

“Father Clancy spends most afternoons working with the young men of the local sports clubs, Sister.” The driver chuckled. “He is not the only one. Many of the Sisters that care for the orphanage also work with local youth programs. The Church and Convent of Our Blessed Mother is a source of great pride these days. Even the Roseline orphanage has become a source of pride.”

The comment about the orphanage caught the young nun’s attention. “Sir, does the orphanage have some kind of seal on the doors? Like maybe a Rose?”

“Oh yes. A great big one in the center of each door. All of them are hand carved and brought over from the old world.” The more the driver bragged about the Church, Convent, and Orphanage the better Sister Mary felt.

As they drove through the streets Sister Mary thought back to her youth. Back to the one place she had ever called home. To the small village on the island of Sicily, in the Saint Michael’s Orphanage. She knew that Father Daniel had also grown up in the same orphanage. She had always looked up to him when they were children. She even followed him into the Clergy just so she might be near him. Sadly, he never once looked at her as anything other than a big brother would a young sister. A much younger sister as there was almost ten years between the two of them. And now it looked like she would never see her big brother again.

Looking out the window of the cab. Sister Mary spotted a group of four men and two women walking towards the Church. They were all dressed in a similar manner. Blue jeans, t-shirts, and hiking sandals. Each was also carrying a full backpack. For some reason, something about these six people felt off to her. Especially the two women. Before she could ask the driver about them, they were driving into the parking lot for the Convent.

“Here you go, Sister. I’ll just put it on the Church’s bill.” He handed her his clipboard with trip sheet. “Just sign on the last completed line.”

“Are you sure about this. I do have money to pay my own expenses.” Sister Mary asked giving the driver the hairy eye.

“Don’t worry Sister. It’s all above board. The Church has an account with all the taxi companies on the island.” At the nun’s suspicious glare, the cabbie chuckled and explained. “The Church does not have a car, van or truck, Sister. The taxicabs all cover the Church’s transportation needs.”

“Okay. But if I find out that you have tricked me sir. I shall be very cross with you.” Sister Mary said as signed the trip sheet. “Remember sir, I may be a nun, but I’m also a Sicilian. We don’t take kind to people making fools of us or those we care about. Remember this, Al Capone was polite.”

After getting her luggage from the trunk Sister Mary headed inside the Convent to find the Mother Superior. She was slightly surprised to find that the Mother Superior was in her mid-fifties at best, and there were only three other nuns. None of whom could be older than their late twenties to early thirties. She also wasn’t ready to see that their habit was nothing more than a grey cotton skirt, and white cotton blouse. Their veils were barely shoulder length and of the same grey cotton as their skirts. All four women wore sheer white tights and closed toe leather sandals. Sister Mary knew she would have to make some major adjustments if she was going to fit in with these island dwelling nuns.

“Hello Sister, from what Cloister did they send you?” The Mother Superior asked with arms crossed and a harsh look in her eyes. At first Sister Mary was thrown by the woman’s Russian accent. “Well, who did you piss off? Come, come, I don’t have all day.”

“I’m sorry Mother Superior, but I don’t understand. As far as I know I haven’t angered anyone.” Sister Mary was truly confused by the Mother Superior’s reaction to her arrival. “My superior in Rome sent me here without any explanation or orders. Other than that, I was to spend the next few months here in contemplation and await my recall to Rome.”

“Do you have a letter of introduction, Sister?” The Mother Superior asked holding out hand with a confused look on her face. She wasn’t used to having non-problem Sisters sent to her Convent.

Sister Mary pulled out the paperwork that Father Daniel had given her back in Rome. The Mother Superior spent a few minutes going over the paperwork. It was just as the young nun had told her. “It seems that Father Daniel is worried over your health and commitment to your calling.”

“I have been concerned over a few of the things I have seen the last few months Mother Superior.” Mary stated honestly. “I will be honest. Some of what I’ve seen has made me question my faith.”

“Understandable. Working for the Iscariots is never an easy task. To only look for the evil in the heart of your fellow man is never an easy calling.” The Mother Superior sighed. “Well, lay down your burden at these doors, child. Here you can refresh your mind, and body, while you let your soul heal. You will find that your new Sisters understand your troubles.”

“Thank you, Mother.” Sister Mary said with a smile. Thankful that she didn’t have to explain her sudden transfer to this hard woman.

Before they could say or do anything more the doors to the Convent opened again. The six backpackers walked inside and stopped just a few feet away from the Mother Superior and Sister Mary. Almost as one the six reached inside their shirts and pulled out the solid black rosery of the Iscariot Division. The Mother Superior took in the way they were dressed and the backpacks. She sighed then crossed her arms.

“Where were you before you got burned?” Was all the Mother Superior demanded.

“We were the Miami office, Mother Superior Sophia.” The leader of the group said as he stepped forward. “I’m Father Markus Coleman, team leader. With me are Fathers David Hall, Peter Marks and James Hillman. The Sisters of our team are Elisabeth Cahill and Jessica Worth.”

“Which Section?” Mother Sophia demanded next.

“Section twenty-one under Father Daniel.” Markus answered only to get a dirty look from both Sophia and Mary.

“Don’t you mean Monsignor Delacorte?” Mary sneered. At the looks from both Mother Superior Sophia and the Strike Team, Mary sighed. “My last assignment was to Section Twenty-one in Rome. Until sixteen hours ago I worked directly under Father Daniel in Rome.”

“So, I have not six, but seven former Iscariot agents come to my door seeking Sanctuary.” Mother Sophia sighed. “We will take in the Sisters, but the four priests will have to look elsewhere for their lodging. I’m sorry Fathers, but we just don’t have the facilities for so many men.”

“Understandable, Mother Superior. All we ask is you take care of our sisters. We brothers can take care of ourselves.” Markus answered with a smile. The two nuns of his team didn’t seem too happy with this development. “I know you don’t want to split up the team girls, but it is for the best. Besides, we know this might happen when we left Miami.”

“Doesn’t mean we have to like it, Markus.” Sister Elisabeth bitched. “We’re family damn it.”

“And family doesn’t abandon each other.” The voice was warm and rich from years of public speaking. The man who entered the Convent was in his late fifties, with graying hair. He was in excellent shape, with very little fat on his five-ten lanky frame. “Reverend Mother, you haven’t been telling these young travelers they can’t stay here. Have you?”

“Father Clancy they are not travelers.” Sophia sighed as she waved her hand at the seven new comers to her Convent and Church. “They’re all burned Iscariot agents of one stripe or another.”

“Just as you and I once were, Reverend Mother.” Father Clancy sighed. “Or have you forgotten how we came to be on this lovely island? Does the Berlin National Museum, nineteen-ninety-two ring any bells?”

“No need to go there Father.” Sophia snapped as she absent mindedly rubbed her left butt cheek. “Damned, Doberman Pinchers.”

“Good, now that that’s settled. Gentlemen, if you’ll follow me. I’ll show you to the rooms you can use while you stay with us.” Looking over at Mother Superior Sophia. “Reverend Mother, why don’t you show your new Sisters to their rooms and get them a change of clothes.”

“Of course, Father.” Mother Superior Sophia sighed. “This way ladies. Oh, and while you’re with us. Please remember to comport yourselves as members of this Convent. By that I mean dress accordingly.”

All three of the young nuns answered at the same time in the same way. Humbly with a slight smirk. “Yes, Reverend Mother.”

After a quick shower and change of clothes the three new Sisters for the Convent gathered in the courtyard outside. Mary was the first to broach the topic. “What got your team burned Sister Jessica?”

“One of our informants made the mistake of photographing a group of people they shouldn’t have. Then sent those photos to our Headquarters in Rome in the Diplomatic pouch. It really pissed off the brass and we had enact our Judas Protocols.” Jessica bitched. “And I had just put down a deposit on a new apartment.”

“Oh shit! I think I know why I got transferred the way I did. I saw those photos. Who were they of anyway?” Mary asked in a hushed voice.

“If what Father Markus told us is true. Those pictures were of Maria DeMarco and her immediate family.” At Mary’s look of confusion Jessica and Elisabeth sighed in resignation. Jessica looked Mary dead in the eyes. “Maria DeMarco is the Donna of the DeMarco crime family, and Head of second most feared family of assassins in the world. A woman who with but a single phone call could raise an army of Professionally trained assassins the likes of which have never been seen by man.”

“Oh, bloody hell! Please tell me that you made an example of the fool before bugging out?” Mary practically begged.

“The men of our team made sure he went to his heavenly or hellish reward in a very public and bloody way.” Elisabeth chuckled. “Spread him over half a mile of Alligator Alley.”

“Good.” Mary blushed as she looked down at her hands. “I haven’t always believed in the need for the Strike Teams, Sisters.”

“Save it, Sister Mary. We know what most of our fellow Clergy think of us.” Jessica smiled. “But like our motto goes. ‘Sometimes the Faithful must walk in the shadows of night to protect those who live in the Light of the Lord.’ We know who and what we are Sister Mary. And we’re not ashamed of it.”

“Nor should you be Sister Jessica.” All three of the young nuns turned to find the Mother Superior standing just a few feet away. “Be at peace children.” She reassured them as she approached. “Within these walls all are forgiven. The good Lord knows and understands what needs to happen at times to fight the evil of this world.”

“I hope that you’re right Reverend Mother. I knew that I’ve done more than my fair share of breaking the laws of man.” Elisabeth told her honestly.

“Don’t worry child. He does. If you should doubt that, just wait until this Friday and Sunday.” Sophia chuckled. “I shall introduce you to three very remarkable women who understand where you have been.”

“I doubt that Reverend Mother. I doubt that there are many women who understand what it means to have done what we have.” Jessica sighed as she crossed herself. She wasn’t alone in preforming that act of contrition. Elisabeth and Mary had done so as well.

“Oh, I do believe that you shall be surprised by what the world holds children.” Mother Superior Sophia gave her three newest charges a friendly smile. Then she turned and walked away. “Take your time and the rest of today to relax. Our day starts at five am. We hold morning exercises for the children at six, ladies. Don’t be late.”

As the woman once known to the world as once known to the world by Kitayna Ireyna Tatanya Kerenska Alisoff walked away. She reached down and rubbed her left butt cheek as she hummed the theme song to an old 60’s TV show. “I wonder if my old nighttime working outfit still fits?”

-----tbc-----