Secret Agent Minister

“Well, at least you’ve noticed that about me.”

That comment made him frown in that kind of confused way men do when they don’t understand the underlying meaning. But she let it slide. As much as she’d like to have had a real heart-to-heart with the man, what she needed more was concrete information.

“Go on,” she said, coaxing him like a teacher coaxing a kindergartner.

“You’re right about me. I’m not what I seem.”

“I got that right after you pulled out that big gun,” she snapped back. “Not to mention the dead man.”

He frowned again, a new respect for her in his eyes. “Before I came to Dixon, I was…something besides a preacher.”

“Uh-huh. What?”

He let out a breath. “After I got out of seminary school, I was approached by a very elite organization and asked if I’d like to join their ranks.” He shrugged. “I fit the profile exactly. Athletic, excellent grades, exemplary conduct. Single and young. And very devoted to the Lord.”

“You do fit all those qualifications,” she blurted out. Then she put a hand over her big mouth. “Keep talking.”

He gave her another strange look, but continued. “This organization is so top secret, that I couldn’t even tell my immediate family what I would be doing. I had to use a cover.”

“A cover?” Lydia shot a glance over at him. He looked completely sincere. “You mean, like a spy?”

“Yes, something like that. But more like a Christian operative.”

“A Christian operative?”

“Yes. I’m like a soldier, only I don’t work for the government. I work for the church.”

“You’re a soldier? For the church?”

She knew she sounded stupid, but Pastor Dev didn’t look at her as if she were stupid. Instead, he looked at her as if he were hoping she’d understand. Which she didn’t.

“I know it sounds like something out of a science fiction novel, but I’m telling you the truth. And before I go any further, you have to promise you will not divulge anything I’m telling you. It could mean your life.”

She stopped on the side of the road. “Well, when you put it that way—”

He whirled her around so fast, she felt as though she was back on that train. “I’m serious, Lydia. This is not a game. We are in a very dangerous situation.”

The way he looked at her gave her hope, even while his words scared her silly. He looked as though he really cared about her. “Okay,” she said in a tiny voice. “I’m sorry.”

Then he touched a hand to her hair, sending nice little shivers down her backbone. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten you involved in this.”

“I’m here now,” she said, her practical nature taking over. “Might as well spill the rest, so I can be prepared.”

He smiled then. “That’s what I like about you. You are so organized and sensible.”

Wow, that kind of remark could sure go to a girl’s head, right? Now Lydia was even more anxious to find out what he’d gotten her involved in. “Just tell me, Pastor Dev. So I can help you.”

He stood back, then started walking again, his eyes ever alert to the shadows along the highway and the forest noises off along the fence line. “For ten years now, I’ve belonged to an organization called CHAIM. That’s Hebrew for ‘life.’”

“Nice,” she said, suddenly caught up in what he was saying. “What does this organization do, exactly?”

He stopped again, and put his arms on hers. “We save people.”

Lydia’s heart thumped against her rib cage. “As in?”

“This is the secretive part, Lydia. My parents thought I was off doing missionary work, but I wasn’t—at least not in the usual way. CHAIM stands for Christians for Amnesty, Intervention and Ministry. We go into other countries and rescue Christians who are in danger.”

Lydia let that soak in, then put a hand to her mouth. “You mean, you’re some sort of special ops agent?”

He nodded. “Yes, I was for seven years before I came to Dixon. I had to retire from the force. We’ve saved hostages, we’ve helped stranded Christian missionaries out of volatile situations, and we’ve rescued good, honest people who’ve found themselves in the wrong place at the wrong time. Because we don’t work for the government, we have our own set of rules. We try not to do any harm—we just get in, get out, and save lives on both sides.”

“So you’re not violent and mercenary?”

He looked away, a darkness settling in his eyes. “Only if we have to defend ourselves or the people we’re helping.”

That thump in her heart was at full throttle now. “How? Why? I don’t understand.”

“I know it’s hard, seeing me in such a different way. But you’re safe as long as you’re with me. You have my word on that.”

“But if you’re retired—”

He glanced around. “Someone wants me permanently retired. Whoever killed Charles Pierson obviously thought they had me.”

Lydia’s heart sputtered. She couldn’t breath. Hadn’t she figured this out already, since she’d been chased and shot at? But hearing him say it out loud made it so real. “You mean, you might have been the one—”

His voice went low. “I gave Charles a key to my room, and told him to meet me there. I had to talk to another colleague before our meeting to discuss my speech. Charles went up ahead of me. They must have ambushed him. It should have been me.”

She stared up at him, flabbergasted at what he was telling her. “You could have been killed tonight?”

He nodded. “Yes. I’m out of CHAIM and no one, not even the other operatives, knows where I’ve been assigned. But someone has breached the security of the entire organization. Just to have me killed. And I’m pretty sure I know who that someone is.”

Lydia’s whole body was shaking now. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t think beyond the fact that Pastor Dev might have been killed tonight. Up until now, she’d wanted to believe it had all been some sort of mistake, that they weren’t the target. She looked back up at him, tears brimming in her eyes. And then she started shaking so badly, she felt sick to her stomach. With a rush, everything that had happened came at her, causing her to grow weak. “You could have been killed.”

He touched his thumb to her chin. “I might still be killed, Lydia. And you right along with me, if they find us. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

He caught her in his arms just before she passed out.

THREE

Dev hated to bring Lydia out of the relative peace of her little fainting spell. But he had to, so he carried her to a big stone bench. “Lydia, wake up.” He held her in his arms, scoping the spot just as the little old lady they’d seen on the train came charging around the corner.

Obviously trying to focus, Lydia lifted her head and spotted the woman. And in her usual Lydia way, said, “How nice. She’s worried about us.” While Dev went into combat mode, Lydia sent the woman a reassuring smile. Then asked, “How long has that nice little lady been tailing us, anyway?”

“She’s not so very nice, and she really isn’t a lady at all,” Dev whispered. There she stood, glaring at Lydia and Dev through her bifocals. And she was packing more than just antacid and Advil.

Even in her stupor of confusion, Lydia seemed to figure things out. “That woman’s gun is much bigger than yours, Pastor Dev.”

“You can say that again.”