Doubts and Faith
Gunfire sounded out behind them and in the street around the warehouse, distracting the FBC. “The Guard is here,” said Bea, “we’ve got to get out.”
“Hopefully we can,” replied Dora. They made their way to the side door that Bea had used earlier, sticking to the shadows and hoping to sneak out in the confusion as the Swiss Guard engaged with the remaining FBC members.
Removing themselves from the battle had proven to be easy. Bea could only hope that their luck would hold out evading the local authorities. It would have been a lot easier with a change of clothes. Neither woman had the opportunity to grab any extra gear before they were forced to flee the battle. They ducked into a small alley to remove their armor.
“Beatrice,” said Dora, working on the clasps of her body armor, “you’ve got blood on your face.”
“Dammit,” she said in an undertone. “It’s a good thing we wear black.” She used the bottom of her habit to wipe herself clean.
Stepping back out of the alley as proper, respectable nuns, the two women turned north. “This is the opposite direction of where we should be going,” said Dora.
“There’s an old safe house that Mary used to use about a kilometer north. There should be food and a change of clothes.” She looked sideways at Dora. “We may have to break in.” The sirens, which had been constant since they left the battle, began to get louder and both women increased their pace.
A black van’s motor started. No one in the warehouse heard it over the noise of the two box trucks’ diesel engines. Less than a minute after the two trucks and their escorts pulled out of the garage door, it discreetly followed. The door shut behind it and a passenger climbed in before it turned in the opposite direction and drove away.
“Are you sure this is the place?” Dora asked as they stared at the small restaurant.
“Of course,” said Bea looking at the other woman, “what’s wrong?”
“A pizzeria?” asked Dora again. She was looking at Beatrice like she had lost her mind.
“Well, no, not the pizzeria, one of the apartments above it—on the third floor if I’m not mistaken.” She shrugged. “I was only here with her once and it has been a few years. The entrance should be around the back. At least we’ll have food once we’ve changed.”
They moved down the small alley next to the restaurant and Bea got to work on the lock while Dora stood watch.
“What is taking you so long?” Dora mumbled while trying to block the view of the door from the street.
“Well this would go a lot faster if you’d leave me alone,” replied Bea.
“There are people walking by,” Dora muttered through her smile directed towards a couple on the street. “Yasmine could’ve picked this lock by now.”
A click sounded and Bea swung the door open. “I don’t know what you’re complaining about. That was less than three minutes.”
“Three minutes that randoms were able to get a good look at the sketchy nun standing around by herself in the alley,” said Dora as they walked up the stairs.
“If you have any complaints then feel free to do the next door yourself,” replied Bea, feeling disgruntled. She handed Dora her lock picks.
“I would except you don’t even know which room it is.” Bea was on the verge of getting angry when she noticed Dora’s smirk. She chuckled and shook her head.
Four minutes later—“Not a word, Beatrice” —and the women both felt like they could breathe again. The apartment, if it could be called that, was really just one room with a bathroom and a small closet. A double bed and wooden table with two chairs accounted for the furnishings. A small counter with cabinets below and above made up the ‘kitchen’ along with a small refrigerator and stovetop.
“Not bad as far as safe houses go,” commented Dora. Bea didn’t answer; she simply collapsed into one of the chairs with a sigh. “You okay?” Dora asked her. She looked up at the other woman and nodded. “Good,” responded Dora as she took the other seat at the table. “Then why don’t you fill me in on what happened back there. That was a hell of a plan you put together based on a couple of people wandering around outside the warehouse.”
Bea looked back at her, searching her face before she sighed again. “First order of business, there are clothes of varying sizes in the closet. Let’s get cleaned up and get some food. We can talk while we eat.”
Dora eyed her for a moment before she nodded in agreement. “Alright, do you want to go first?”
“No,” replied Bea, “you go ahead.”
The van headed east, away from the Vatican, away from the warehouse and away from the battle that was underway. The FBC had not noticed as it had left the area.
Bea stood in the scalding shower for much longer than was strictly necessary, allowing the burning water to soothe her aches and pains from the battle. Her hands shook as she struggled to lift her arms above her head to wash her hair due to the developed bruises covering both sets of ribs. She looked down at her body as rivulets of water ran down her chest and back, matching the tears streaming down her face as she came down from her adrenaline high.
What happened to everyone? Did the girls that fought with her get away from the Swiss Guard?
What about everyone in the trucks? She sent nine women away as a diversion without even telling them. Did they make it to safety? Would they ever forgive her if they did?
Was Ava safe?
She was interrupted from her ruminations when she heard Dora return to the apartment. Turning off the water, she stepped out of the shower to dry off and dress. She wiped down the foggy mirror to take in her appearance once again. She was covered in red and blue marks up and down her body; the worst by far along the sides of her torso from the oversized FBC attacker who had pinned her arms. She was going to be sore for a while.
The driver and passenger were jumpy as they traveled through the streets of Rome. At one point, a police siren sounded behind them and they flinched as they pulled to the side of the road, but the car continued past them with its lights flashing.
Fully dressed, Bea joined Dora at the table and both women began to eat in silence. Bea could barely taste the food. She was not hungry in the slightest yet forced herself to eat out of necessity. Once she and Dora left this apartment, they could not be sure when they’d have a chance to eat again as they tried to meet up with their sisters. It would all depend on how wide and tight a net the Vatican would have tossed over the city by then.
Dora cleared her throat and Bea looked up at her. She had the impression that the other woman had been watching her for a few minutes. Dora raised her eyebrows.
“Alright,” said Bea nodding. She winced a little as she sat more upright at the table. She looked at Dora carefully. “OCS has a leak,” she began bluntly. Dora’s eyes widened a little but she made no other response. Beatrice continued. “It’s high level. I wasn’t sure about it before today but I had already planned for it. I don’t know who.”
“High level?” asked Dora. “So you think Mother Superion or Father Vincent?”
“Or Yasmine or Camila,” replied Beatrice, saying that name hurt. She watched Dora even more closely now. “Or you.”
The van reached a parking garage on a seemingly random side street. It pulled in and traveled up level after level until it reached the roof.
Dora looked taken aback. If she was acting, she was damn good. “You sent Yasmine and Camila with the divinium,” she said, prioritizing the mission. “Or did you? You would have wanted to separate the three of us from it.”
Beatrice said nothing, allowing Dora to work it out herself.
“So not with them or the other truck, that would have been too risky to leave it so undefended. Where is it?”
Parked on the roof of the garage, Eileen and Rosemary waited impatiently for their contact to arrive. Eileen was pacing around the van while Rosemary was watching over the side of the building.
“Can you see anything?” asked Eileen as she came up next to her friend.
“Not really,” Rosemary responded. “There’s some smoke off in the distance there and there.” She pointed off towards the southwest. “That could be along their path.”
“I hope they’re all okay.”
Rosemary looked at her friend. “We have bigger things to worry about right now.” Eileen nodded.
A pair of trucks pulled up onto the roof of the parking garage. The nuns slowly walked back to the van, both discreetly reaching for their weapons.
“Eileen and Rosemary?” asked Dora, concern evident on her face. “The girls are good Beatrice but do they even know how to get out of the city?”
“If all goes according to plan, they’ll meet us back at Cat’s Cradle with the divinium,” said Bea calmly. “They may even beat us there.”
Dora scoffed. “According to plan—because that’s happened so much lately,” she paused. “Of course, I suppose that’s the entire point.”
Bea nodded. “It’s hard for a plan to work if the enemy knows it beforehand.” She continued eyeing Dora, watching carefully for any signs that could point to her as a traitor. But the other woman simply sat quietly at the table, watching Bea in turn. Then she sighed.
“Alright, Bea, I’m going to trust you on this. The FBC has had the jump on us multiple times since before you ever came back and I know there’s no way they had surveillance on us this past week.” She paused for a moment. “For my part I won’t ask you how you know any of this. I’m not going to ask for your sources—if you have any. I’m not even going to ask where you sent Eileen and Rosemary. Good enough?”
“Good enough,” agreed Bea.
“But you are going to explain all of this to me someday.”
“As soon as I can.”
Four men got out of the trucks and walked towards the two women. The tallest walked in front, his dark hair and beard outlining his angular face. “You with Sister Beatrice?”
“She sent us, yes,” responded Eileen.
“She said you could get us and our cargo back to Cat’s Cradle,” added Rosemary.
He eyed both women and mumbled something in Italian to his companions. “Does this have anything to do with the blow up at the Vatican?”
The women glanced at each other. “You don’t have to worry about that,” said Eileen, swallowing thickly. “Sister Beatrice said that you just have to get us back.” Then, feeling a little bolder, she added, “She also wanted us to remind you that you don’t want to be on her bad side.” Rosemary looked sideways at the other nun—she had said no such thing.
The man raised his eyebrows at Eileen. “Alright,” he said calmly. “Let her know that this one is on me and after this we’re even.” He spoke some more words in Italian to his men and they made their way to the van.
“We’ll be leaving the van here. Gather your things.”
“We have about twenty hours before they move to the third safe house,” said Dora as she explored the apartment for supplies and general boredom. “We shouldn’t even bother with the second.”
“No,” agreed Beatrice, “not when we have to pass back through ground zero to get to them.” She was on the floor running through a series of easy yoga poses in an attempt to keep her mobility as the bruising matured in her muscles. “So that’s twenty six hours before we will have to make our own way back to Spain. I don’t know about you but I would prefer Camila’s travel plan over hitch-hiking.”
“I agree. It will certainly be more comfort—oh ho!” She pulled out a glass bottle of light brown liquid. “Mary had taste! Single-malt scotch,” she turned to look at Beatrice, “aged eighteen years.”
“Twenty-one years old by now,” replied Bea, looking over the bottle.
“You know that’s not how scotch works, right?”
“Just pour me a glass,” said Bea rolling her eyes.
They settled back in at the table and Dora poured them each a generous helping. “Guaranteed to soothe all of your aches and pains and battle wounds.” She looked at Bea. “Now you sip this,” she instructed. “Don’t go shooting it back like I know Ava taught you.”
Bea gave her an exasperated look. “I think of all of us I probably have the most drinking experience at this point. Besides, I’m only having the one glass and I want it to last.” She eyed Dora shrewdly. “You seem to know quite a lot about it for a nun.”
“Poverty, chastity and obedience,” Dora responded. “I don’t remember temperance being on the list.”
Bea raised her eyebrows and nodded. “Fair enough.” She took a small sip of the sweet and spicy liquid, relishing the burning sensation as it traveled down her throat, as if it was washing away all of the guilt and worry that she was carrying with her. They sat together in silence for a few minutes, each lost in her own thoughts.
“Do you think everyone made it?” Dora eventually asked.
“I hope so,” said Bea quietly. “I really don’t want to lose any of these girls.”
Sensing her guilt, Dora responded firmly. “They’re not only your responsibility.”
“I changed the plan. We could have just stayed together and left with our divinium. That was the mission.”
“It was,” Dora agreed, nodding. “But it’s not always about the mission. Sometimes it’s about doing the right thing. I don’t know what the FBC wants with divinium, but it’s nothing good. We did the right thing today. I would have made the same call if it were me.”
“Thank you,” said Bea, locking eyes with the other woman, “sincerely.” She adopted a half-smile as she looked around the room pensively. “We’ve been through so much; it’s hard to believe we haven’t known each other that long.” She looked back at Dora. “I’m glad that we met and that we’re friends. I feel like I’m looking to you for advice a lot lately—you’re good at giving guidance.”
Dora shrugged. “I am a nun.”
“Didn’t I see you bend a man backward and break his neck over your knee earlier today?” asked Bea as she took another sip of her drink.
Dora shrugged again. “I didn’t say I was a good nun.” Both women laughed softly together for a minute. “I’m glad we’re friends too.” They sat together in silence, each contemplating her scotch.
“How does it feel?” Dora asked quietly. “Giving it up. How do you feel now?”
Bea took a mouthful of scotch and held it, swallowing slowly, bit by bit, giving herself time to think through an honest answer. “Not that different,” she said. “After all I’m still here and still part of the OCS and always will be. But at least there’s no guilt revolving around Ava and I can be free with her. But it wasn’t an easy decision. It still haunts me sometimes.”
“And your faith?” asked Dora. “Do you still believe in God?”
Beatrice knew that Dora was thinking back to her rejection of Mother Superion’s prayer after the Halo saved the older woman. She smiled slightly for a moment before answering. “I think God and I have reached an understanding.” The women sat in silence for a few more minutes, Bea regarding the other sister warrior curiously. “Why do you ask, Dora?”
The nun didn’t answer for a time, opting instead to take another mouthful of scotch. Bea did not push and instead took her own sip. “We signed up for a life of service,” Dora answered eventually, “but more and more it seems like we’re the only ones serving. We fight and watch our sisters die to protect the church—for what?” She looked at Bea, silently pleading with her for an answer.
“When Ava first got the Halo,” began Bea, “Duretti tried to ensure my loyalty to him as he attempted to consolidate power over the OCS—and he turned out to be one of the good ones. My answer to him was that I would always be loyal to God—so he transferred me to Malaysia.” She took a sip of her scotch. “The church is in upheaval. It will take time for the leadership to settle out. In the meantime we will keep doing what we do because we know that it’s the right thing—and because nobody else will.”
“Nobody else will,” repeated Dora. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? Why are we the only ones fighting? It makes me wonder why I stay.”
Bea understood. It was frustrating submitting to a bunch of old men who, as Mother Superion put it, no longer knew what faith and sacrifice meant. She wanted very much to help her friend, but did not want to influence her choices. She chose her next words carefully. “You could always leave, but like I said it’s not an easy decision. I think it’s working out for me but I’m in a very different situation. Have faith, Dora; if not faith in the church than faith in your sisters and yourself.”
Dora nodded, not looking completely assuaged. She downed the rest of her glass in one gulp. “I’m going to get some sleep. Will Ava kill me if we share the bed?”
Bea grinned at the joke, her first real smile since Ava left the warehouse. “I think you’ll be safe. You go ahead, I’m still winding down.”
The next morning, the two sister warriors were walking through the crowded streets, slowly making their way south towards the third safe house, fully expecting to get there ahead of the other sisters and then waiting for them. They had decided to split up briefly to gather some last minute provisions just in case they were forced into hiding out again along the way. Dora made her way to a nearby market while Bea crossed the street towards a cheap clothing store. She was about to enter the market when a commotion came from across the street. She turned to see people yelling and backing away from a police officer who was holding Beatrice at gunpoint.