Aimee
The thunderous roar of the jet engine screamed as the plane climbed above Liverpool's Airport and banked out over the River Mersey, on the intended flight path to Shoreham-by-sea Airport on the Sussex coast.
Aimee had no interest in the view and had closed the blind on her porthole window, waiting impatiently for the promised report from headquarters. She stared grimly at her dishevelled reflection on the iPad screen, toying with the sapphire earring in her left ear.
The jewel was a reminder of what it meant to be an Acolyte of Archangel Michael, and the empty hole in her other ear, was a reminder of her failure, of losing the other earring. An unforgivable act of disrespect and embarrassment to herself and the Holy Order of Michael.
She gnashed her teeth in frustration and sneered down at the jade-green formal blouse she wore and the symbol of the Holy Order of Raphael on the left breast pocket - a wooden staff with a snake entwined around it. Though it felt good to be out of the itchy cassock, she wasn't so sure about the grey trousers and ballerina black shoes. She would dump them as soon as she landed, and locate the nearest Safe House. She needed to blend in and wear something more appropriate. She missed her Dr. Martins.
The plane suddenly eased its climb and petered out, lulling and steadying. The Fasten Seat-belt sign switched off and like magic, Ryan appeared at her side with a mobile phone in one hand and Aimee's Lunch in the other.
It had to be him, didn't it? The Holy Council continued to punish me.
"You look tired Aimee; I thought you were meant to be relaxing on a retreat somewhere. Did you go anywhere nice?" His grin split his face in two. Aimee ignored him; she was not in the mood for his patronizing nasal tone. She had met Ryan a few times before and the guy could talk about anything and everything, as long as it was about himself or his beloved Father David.
The truth be known, she also did not trust him; he worked as a Holy Council informer and spy for the Internal Affairs unit– the Reapers. Ryan was your cliché backstabbing slimy bastard.
"Whatever," he replied. "I was just trying to break the ice; I didn't mean anything by it!" His voice peaked at an unnaturally high pitch, forcing a small smirk on Aimee's lips. Ryan reminded her of a rodent, with pointy features and mousy-coloured hair, styled in a girly sharp bob under his ears. All that was missing was the whiskers. He always dressed like an upmarket businessman and today wore a grey tailored suit and lime green coloured shirt, matching the colour of his large green eyes, the iconic colour of the Order of Raphael.
He flung the mobile onto the empty seat to Aimee's right and placed the tray of food on the table at her feet.
"Enjoy your lunch," he said, twirling away, his nose in the air, walking as if something was stuck up his ass.
Aimee stared at the chicken salad, leaving the container unopened. The imbecile continued to play childish games with her. He knew she was vegan.
"Oh, and here's your spanking new weapon, best not lose this one dear," he added with a grin. He chucked a black case at her head. Aimee snatched it from the air and flashed him a dark look. He smirked back, his eyes glinting green fire in the dim light. How she wanted to wipe that self-righteous grin off his face.
How did he know about Ardor?
A small twist of her stomach reminded her of the loss of her last weapon, Ardor, the sword of flame. Archangel Michael's sword. She knew why the Holy Council confiscated it, to punish her for the betrayal and the loss of her earring. But she didn't know it was general knowledge.
Lucky for Ryan, the tablet pinged and the screen lit up, pulling her attention away. She clicked on the attachment and a list of files opened up simultaneously one after the other, leaving the picture of a familiar young woman on the top, which made Aimee smile. The Holy Council was toying with her.
I am to follow the command of Raphael's Order, and the woman in charge would test her. This is taking the piss.
She paused; the black case still clasped in her hand and glanced at Ryan out of the corner of her eye. He was watching her with fascination, his grin still there, but his eyes focused intently on her, unblinking. She raised an eyebrow in answer, but his smile only grew, as if he waited for a reaction.
The bastard knew, he was well aware of her mission and who the Holy Council had put as her commander.
Aimee scowled up at him.
"You may go now," she hissed, placing the iPad on the table at her feet. She would finish the mission brief later.
Ryan chuckled, stepping back towards her and leaning over to grab the iPad. She barred his way with a leg and stared up at him in mock surprise.
"Oh Ryan, you know you can't. Now piss off and go and report to daddy David that I'm not being very nice to you." She waved him away and pretended to study the weapon case, though watching his reflection on the iPad screen at her feet. Ryan struggled to contain his rage and his true intentions. He glared at her, his body tensing and the veins in his neck pulsating. Aimee knew the instant he lost control of his emotions and let the Holy Aura of Raphael flow within him, like a flood in a storm. His eyes changed to the colour of bottle green flames, all the white of his eyes gone, as he held the power of his Faith.
"I wouldn't!" Aimee said in a calm, unfazed voice, still not looking at him. "I will only have to...report you."
No...Kill you...
He smiled a foul hurtful smile. "You poor little thing, I bet you thought you would go back into your old role and your original rank within the Holy Order." He retorted, flashing pearly white teeth at her.
"I have news for you... faithless." He spat the last word "You will never, ever regain your esteem place within the Order again!" His words oozed malice. He laughed wiggling a finger at her, his eyes continuing to smoulder in green energy.
"The prodigal daughter has fallen. What did you expect, after your treachery – your...your defiance of the Holy Code. Look at me, you witch! I said look at-"
Aimee moved in a blink, avoiding his flimsy attempt to stop her, like a viper she slipped past and cracked him hard on the back of his neck.
Ryan collapsed to the floor, out cold.
She stepped back and sneered down at him in distaste. "Such a waste of holy energy, why do they continue to give such power to imbeciles," she growled, shaking her head.
Leaving him where he lay, she sat back down and snatched up the mobile and keyed in a set of numbers. It rang once and a chirpy voice answered.
"Dana's florist, how can I help?"
"The grass withereth, the flower fadeth: but the word of our God shall stand forever?" she replied.
The phone disconnected. Aimee quickly opened the back of the mobile and removed the battery and SIM card, pulling out a second card from her pocket and slotting it in and assembling the phone back together. After ten seconds it rang in her hand.
"God's love," said a soft female voice.
"Who is as God?" replied Aimee. There was a long pause where Aimee gathered her thoughts and waited.
"I was wondering when you were going to call?" said the voice in a whisper. "After all, who else would you phone, with such a vast amount of friends lining up to welcome you back into the Holy Order!?"
Aimee huffed not replying and opened the black leather case to inspect her new weapon.
"So, how are you, Aimee?"
She sighed. "Finally free, and still pissed off...thank you for asking."
She lifted the knife to study the pale white blade, dull and lifeless. She ran her fingers over the Holy runes, intricately carved all along the edge of the blade, the metal cold, icy to the touch.
"When are you not pissed off darling. I suppose that is to be expected...but you are ready for this?" asked the voice.
"As I'll ever be, what choice do I have," she replied, skilfully flipping the knife and catching it by its white leather hilt, her hand fitting the grips perfectly.
They say the leather of a Heaven Blade, also called an Angel blade, is the skin of the Angel...how that was possible was beyond her comprehension.
As soon as her hand met the handle, she heard a soft click and the knife vibrated, the blade lengthened, transforming into its true form...a Katana sword, though the hilt was a little different and not the traditional design. She would have preferred a Tai Chi sword, like Ardor, that had a straighter blade, but this would do, the weight seemed okay and the balanced was good.
The Holy Crafters must still have her size and measurements on file. It had always fascinated Aimee, how Holy weapons were made and worked. There had to be some mechanism to move the blades from within each other, triggered as soon as the hand of a Holy Acolyte touched it.
"Aimee! You are not listening to me? There is always a choice," lectured the female voice. Aimee grunted in reply sitting up to examine her weapon more closely.
She pulled the blade up to her eyes, searching for joins or imperfections, any obvious signs of how it worked or was manufactured. It was indeed beautiful craftsmanship, though, still not as good as the ancient weapons like Ardor.
She raised the new sword and let her Holy Aura of Archangel Michael flow into the weapon. Instantly the sword came to life, the blade burning in white fire, humming a soft low resonating sound. She stared at the glow, a small smirk slipping onto her face, as she enjoyed the warm tingling sensation flowing from her hand and up her arm, to her chest.
"Aimee! For the sake of my sanity!" screamed the voice in her ear.
"Huh - what?" she replied.
"You are going to be the death of me girl! I knew you weren't listening...I said - there is always a choice; it's our choices through life that define who we are. Not what happens to you and what others think, it's your heart that is the guide to your salvation!"
Aimee laughed. "Wow, what have you been reading? Is that from the Book of Light?"
The voice chuckled.
"Yes, it is, did you like it? I've been stuck in the Great Library all winter, so I have been reading loads of crap like that, to pass the time. It is so boring without being able to hunt. But, I particularly liked that one."
"Ah – so you're in Rome, I guess that is a sensible refuge for you at present...so what is your disguise this time? A cleaner or maid?" asked Aimee a brief smirk slipping on her face.
"Bah, no way. Can you see me with a fluffy duster or a broom? Ha, I am the Librarian coordinator, Elena Peters. A scholar, writing a dissertation on the Holy Libraries of the world. It pretty much gets me into many odd and quirky places. Not to mention some cool Parties with the local students in the city."
Aimee snorted, picturing her friend dancing at a rave, one hand on a young man's ass, the other holding a book open, her eyes scanning the holy words of Joseph.
"Talking of parties, and sweaty unwashed bodies, how is our Holy eminence the Pope?" asked Aimee, struggling not to chuckle at her friend's predicament.
"Oh, you know... still ignoring the important issues and dismissing that we don't even exist. He is more concerned about child abuse within his Church, Women Bishops and same-sex marriage. Nothing has changed for centuries; we still fight alone and without the Vatican's support darling. The organisation remains in the Dark ages, I bet we probably had more support back then than we do now!"
"I don't know," snarled Aimee, quickly pushing away her frustration. "Why are you even bothering with the Catholics? We can handle it like we have the past two hundred years."
"Yes...maybe...you would probably know...having all the memories of the past Acolytes of Archangel Michael in that skull of yours. Anyway, enough small talk, let's get back to business. I guess you have received your mission brief. Was I correct?" asked the voice.
"Yes. I never doubted it. I had to look surprised for the Raphael snake here with me on the plane."
"Oh, I didn't know you had company, are you alone now?"
"Yea, I took care of the insect. It's Ryan, would you believe it? The assistant of Father David. The guy whose head you put through the car window? Two Summers ago, when he wouldn't shut up about how the Raphael Order was the future for the Holy Order."
"Oh, that dickhead," replied the voice. " Just throw him out of the plane Aimee, that buffoon is a waste of space. "
Aimee chuckled "I would love to, but I would only be put on trial again. I don't want to give them an excuse. I only just got out!"
"Yes, the Holy Council are a predictable bunch of sadistic bastards. They are so wrapped up in their self-importance, that they wouldn't see Lucifer doing a shit on their desks. They had no choice but to call upon you Aimee, their hands were tied, or they would lose this golden opportunity. It wouldn't be surprising that they use this mission as a test, to see where your true loyalties lay." The caller's tone dropped to a whisper "I know this might seem impossible Aimee, but if we stick to the plan, it will work. They won't know what hit them."
She balanced the sword on her lap and pondered what to say, releasing her Holy Aura so the sword would cease its white burning. The metal changed back to a dull pale sheen, only the runes continued to flicker white for a few seconds, before they too disappeared.
"It doesn't matter what they think, they can test me all they like. I will never be their puppet; I never have been, and never will be. My heart is true, as is my faith. Those old buggers should worry about their black hearts and not the souls of others! I would love to see their faces when they are refused entry at heaven's pearly gates!"
The caller chuckled. "Amen to that... how sweet, your time away in contemplation has done wonders for your attitude, sassy as ever!"
"You bitch!" snapped Aimee, feeling the corners of her mouth rise into a rare smile.
"Yea I know...And you love me that way"
Aimee laughed and carefully studied the weapon, as it clicked twice and transformed back into a small knife.
So very clever...
She slipped the blade into its sheath and placed it gently on the table.
"Nah, I don't love you? There is no room for me in your heart, you love yourself way too much," replied Aimee with a giggle.
"What! You Bitch. I hate you!" replied the voice with a short abrupt laugh.
"Yea, that's what my sister said when I killed her husband!"
The laughing stopped abruptly and they both were silent.
Aimee swallowed hard and closed her eyes, nausea returning. She steeled her heart and slipped up the porthole blind and stared out over the wing of the plane, at the blood-red skyline, the sun burning its head behind dark ominous storm clouds. A bad omen if there was ever one.
"Darling Aimee, you were doing what you thought was right, following your instinct and training. She...your sister, became lost to her emotions and couldn't...see the truth, she would have never done it, so you did what was necessary! Stop this guilt bullshit, nothing positive can come of it, it only poisons the mind. Let it go, it is time to move on darling."
Aimee picked up the iPad from the table, sliding the weapon to the side. She enlarged the picture on the screen, brushing her finger over the face of her sister staring back at her. It had been over a year since she had set eyes on that face, that beautiful innocent face. A wayward tear splashed on the screen, her eyes burning as her vision blurred. The agony and the remorse twisted in her guts. Time was meant to be a healer, though, for Aimee, time became the enemy.
"Look Aimee, I haven't been sitting on my ass or rather kissing every boy I meet, well not every boy...anyway, in your absence, I have found a few leads that we can investigate...different ways to approach the mission. However, first things first, the Holy Council must never suspect anything. They will be watching you, so you need to behave yourself. Then, and only then we will see...okay?"
Aimee clenched her fist and bit back her tears to regain her composure. She wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her new blouse and put the iPad down.
"Thank you, I just need some time to clear my head. I appreciate your help," she said, and she meant it. It isn't easy to admit it, but she needed help...sometimes.
"No, don't thank me yet. We have a lot of work to do first." replied the voice.
Aimee paused and chewed her bottom lip ready to listen.
"In a few minutes, I will send you a map to your phone, of the suspected locations of the Holy Sentinels. I have another secret Safe House, unknown to the Holy Council, where you will meet an old friend of ours. Please be nice and don't judge her too quickly, let the past remain in the past. She is a great asset to our cause, so keep your temper and old stereotypes in check. She isn't what she used to be...okay?"
"Whatever...trust me will you, I'll do what is needed...as long as you keep your promise," Aimee replied.
"Yes of course I will...you know that...now... A car will try to pick you up at the airport - from the Raphael Order. But there will be another left in parking lot Q6. Take it instead. Use the opportunity to send a signal to the Holy Council that you will not be their pawn, it also gives you a chance to scout the area, hidden from prying eyes."
"I like it," Aimee replied, through clenched teeth. Her jaw throbbed as she bit down hard and stared at the knife shaking in her trembling hands. She clenched the handle tight until her knuckles paled from the grip.
"I like it, and thank you, Liana, I owe you one," she added.
"You are very welcome darling, just don't fuck it up," replied Liana.