London.
The plush office was almost mocking me, rainy English weather just outside the windows.
I'd been sitting here for an hour. Waiting.
Lucy had brought us here to meet God, neutral ground, to develop a battle plan now that we had the fifth column doing what the fifth column did best. It was just the two of us after the ambush in Lyons, keeping things compartmentalized.
Then he'd asked to meet with her privately.
I drummed on the conference table with a pen, anything to alleviate the nerves. My gaze snapped up as the door finally opened, and Lucy walked in... Something was off. She looked almost...sick.
"Baby?"
She smiled, and it seemed forced, drawn on at the edges.... "My Father is behind us; he has tasked a contingent to assist with our missions going forward."
The way she glossed over it set my bells ringing, but I filed it away when she continued.
"He sends his best. Other matters needed his attention, so an old friend will assist with the particulars."
The single door at the far end opened as if on cue, and Morris stepped in, followed by three others. The Archangels were all...pristine, is the only word to describe them, unblemished skin, light blue eyes, and nice blonde hair. They would never look like anything but clones to me, irrespective of gender.
Lucy stepped forward as I stood, shaking Morris's hand.
"I am sorry for your loss." He intoned with a nod that his companions reflected.
"Thank you," Lucy replied, "They were good soldiers, all. What do you have for us?"
Morris shook my hand before gesturing, and we all took our seats, "The Host has been just as active as you have, per the Father's orders. We stumbled upon a piece of information just this morning. The name of your mystery man." He rubbed his knuckles, and I noticed a little dried blood under his nails.
"You weren't gentle; I take it?" It slipped out. The perverse joy at knowing that one of those animals had died hard was impossible to contain.
Morris shook his head, "That, I was not. The name is Trent, Robert Trent. He's something of an industrialist, very old money. He heads the human arm of the Trinity with a man by the name of Burrows."
"And why wasn't this information readily available? We could have been tracking his movements instead of sending my soldiers into a trap!" Lucy snapped.
Morris sighed, "Trent is using wards that obscure him from the Father's sight."
Lucy's eyes went a little wide before she got it under control, "That's impossible...."
"Unless they were gifted to him by his newfound
allies
." Morris spat the word, and I could see the way it burned him, that Angels had sunk so low. Lucy's eyes were flicking across the tabletop; she was clearly shaken by what Morris had said. I was beginning to think this was a little more significant than I realized.
"Do we have anything actionable?" I asked... but it was all superfluous, I had a name, and I'd run him down by myself if I had to.
Morris waved a hand over his shoulder, "Jophiel. My ground commander."
"We do," The female Angel chimed in. She pulled a manila envelope out of thin air and slid it across the space between us. I caught it under my fingertips and flipped it open.
Time and location. Along with a picture labeled "Burrows," fuckin' guy looked like my high school gym teacher.
"Our friend give this up?"
She nodded, "And we are certain of its legitimacy.
I snorted, "We better be. Last time didn't shake out so well for us."
Lucy seemed to pull herself out of it, a tremor in her voice when she spoke, "A joint operation then. We take Burrows and force him to give up Trent."
Morris nodded, "My thoughts exactly. Before we part ways to prepare, The Father has something unrelated but no less important. Prince?"
I looked up from the hasty intel into his cool grey eyes. Surprised at his use of my title, "Morris? What's up?"
He didn't answer, but the door opened again, and my heart stopped.
"Hey, kid."
I stood up so fast my chair flipped to the floor with a crash, backing up a few steps, a hand shooting up to cover my mouth as Lucy gasped.
My hearing went with a ringing whine, and the world started to spin.
"D...Dad?"
My eyes tracked from the small reassuring smile that played across his lips...the same one that never failed to calm my nerves when I woke up from a nightmare, that eased the pain from a skinned knee...to his royal blue eyes that were slowly filling with tears. Even his mop of jet-black hair was just as I remembered it. He sidestepped the table and barreled into me, arms wrapping around my shoulders... he smelled like diesel, cigarettes, and that same old aftershave.
"Dad?" I whispered dumbly, not comprehending, tears rolling down my face all the same.
"I'm here, boy, I'm here, and I'm never leaving you again." He replied wetly, a soft sob rushing out of him. My legs gave out, and he held me tighter, slowly lowering us both to the carpeted floor. He pulled back and stared into my eyes with something like fear.
"Can you ever forgive me?"
I stared back and came up with nothing but the truth.
"Nothing to forgive," I rasped, so overjoyed that the words barely came. Somewhere a million miles away, Morris spoke.
"It is the will of the Father that Michael assists you on your journey."
Dad pulled me back in; I buried my face in his chest and cried for what felt like hours, days. The most amazing relief and love flooding through me.
And then it hit me...
"Mom... Jen...holy shit...." My voice was raw, my face hurt, but I couldn't help the grin.
He nodded, "If you're okay, we can go. If you need more time...."
I shook my head, "No, they need you too." I gently pushed away from him and stood... offering my hand and pulling my
fucking DAD
to his feet. Lucy was watching us with tear-stained eyes, all sense of propriety forgotten.
And then she whispered, so low I almost didn't catch it.
"Thank you, Father."
Dad straightened up, "Hey L, been a minute, huh?"
She nodded, smiling softly, "Hello, Michael."
And that little thing that had nagged at me finally clicked.
My dad's name was Tom.
"Michael...like Saint Michael?" I whispered, shocked, if such a thing was even possible now.
Dad nodded, a fragile look on his face, "Yeah, boy. Something like that."
Morris smiled, addressing Lucy, "We will send word when our preparations are complete."
