"Mar," Dan said, glancing around the now-standing group. "All of her commercials have been taped and are done. I hadn't signed her to anything beyond Sydney, because we didn't know the situation. I also never inked any movie deals, because going into Sydney, we didn't know if Damali could cast a reflection. We don't have any upcoming concerts committed yet, but residuals from commercials and the Sydney concert, plus royalties on all the CDs should float the team for a while. However, given what could be after us, my suggestion is that we put her portfolio of income in some unmarked accounts in Swiss and Cayman Island banks."
"Yo, Dan," Shabazz said, his tone surly and flat. "Let's get our teams to a safe house, then we can sit down and start thinking about money and whatnot." Shabazz released a weary sigh and moved into the aisle.
"He's got a point, though," J.L. countered. "We used up a lot of ammo, lost a lot of gear, and we don't know what we'll face when we get back to the compound stateside. We have to be thinking about public relations and damage control, if we have to stay on the move and underground for a while."
"That's what I'm trying to say, 'Bazz," Dan added, coming into the aisle with Shabazz. "When we get on that flight, we need a team meeting about next steps-before everyone goes to sleep, before it gets dark, and before we lose another day when I can make some calls and make some wire transfers."
"Yeah," Damali said. She stretched her back and kept her eyes on Dan, fighting not to look at Carlos. "We have to handle our business. Without resources, we're sitting ducks. Until the Covenant gives us the green light to move this squad in relative safety, we need a cover story about why I've suddenly dropped from the scene."
Dan nodded. "She's at the apex of her career, man. I have to feed the media vultures something to keep them interested in what Damali will do next, and to keep her fans hungry for her next move. I can play this sudden drop out of sight as her going on a religious pilgrimage or something, mix the truth in with the fiction... which will also make the dark side think she was so torn up that she can't perform."
For a moment, no one said a word. Dan's comment was so close to the bone that it almost cut when he'd said it. Damali drew in a silent breath and spoke with a steady voice.
"Yeah, Dan is right. That is very close to what happened. Tell them that after Sydney, I'm going to... hmmm... Tibet." She smiled. "Cool?"
Dan smiled and the group relaxed.
"We'll be headed in the opposite direction toward Africa and then Europe, so if anyone checks that we flew into Manila, it will make sense. They'll be roaming over Tibet while we're getting papal clearance to enter the Vatican on the other side of the world." She smoothed the front of her gown and entered the narrow jet aisle with Shabazz and Dan. "Hopefully, by the time we get through all of this, I'll have some slammin' new cuts, inspired from wherever we go. Maybe."
Monk Lin moved to her side slowly. His expression was grim, but his eyes were gentle. "This is the right course of action, Neteru. Therefore, in Manila, my journey ends. I must go prepare my brothers for a possible attack."
"Hold it, then," Damali said quickly. "I wasn't even thinking that a mention of Tibet would send a search-and-destroy team your way! Let's pick someplace else to use as a decoy." Her gaze frantically searched the group for answers but only blank stares returned. Damn... where would she send the vamps? She didn't want any innocent blood on her hands in any country.
CHAPTER THREE
"There is no safe place to turn the bowels of Hell upon, Neteru," Monk Lin said calmly. "Tibet has been bloodied at the hands of human destruction, but is spiritually sound enough to take an invasion. As a member of the Covenant, we are to accompany you to points along your path, and you have made a wise choice. I will be waiting for you in Tibet when the time comes for you to journey there. For now, my remaining brethren will accompany you."
Panic seized Damali's voice as she looked at Monk Lin's resigned, peaceful expression.
"My journey ends, Neteru, in Algeria," Imam Asula said. "You have learned well. Our task is nearly done. Only the Guardians will soon be necessary. That is why we stop there."
Her gaze shot around the small cabin and landed on Father Patrick. "Tell me you're not leaving us, too? You and Father Lopez..."
"Child... our Neteru, we lead you to the Christian strongholds, then my work is most likely done. From there, Father Lopez will be your link to us, but we will never be far away."
"You sound like you're dying," Carlos said, interjecting himself into the conversation for the first time since they'd entered the aircraft. His voice hitched without censure. "Man, all of you are family. You just can't up and leave. It ain't right."
"The winds of change are upon us, son," Father Patrick said gently. "Monk Lin and Imam Asula have been sent visions instructing them where they need to go now. My impression of what I'm to do is still hazy, even though I am the father-seer for the group. But I promise you, I will not just up and leave," he said with emphasis, "without telling you. We've become too close for that."
The groups looked between Carlos and Father Patrick, and no one spoke until Carlos's shoulders relaxed and he nodded.
"All right. Cool."
Father Patrick's gaze was tender, his voice warm. "I will not abandon you. I promise."
Carlos nodded and moved into the aisle. He kept his head held high and his back very straight and faced the door. Damali watched the muscles in his jaw working, and for the first time since the hellish nightmare in Sydney concluded, she realized that she wasn't locked in on his thoughts. It wasn't that she was blocked; there was simply no connection. The awareness made her chest heavy. She wanted to reach out to him and hug him, but knew better than to do that just now.
Sensing the tension, Marlene faced the group. "Father Patrick, this is your convoy. How do we proceed?"
"We will board a knights of Templar jumbo jet. All identification as diplomats of the church have been processed and are in order. The plane has already passed security clearance. But that brings me to another very critical point."
All eyes were on the senior cleric as he paused, took a deep breath, and continued.
"No weapons."
"What!" Rider shouted. "We've got senior levels of Hell on our asses and no weapons?"
"Marlene has a sea salt and herbal compound, and we have a bottle of holy water for each of you. Before you get on the plane, we will go to a private hanger that has been outfitted for VIPs. You will shower, get the blood off of you, will scrub your bodies with Marlene's compound and rinse it off with holy water, and get out of these military fatigues. We will put on the white cotton embroidered dashikis, pantaloons, and crocheted knit caps of the faithful Ethiopian. You will travel as pilgrims led by clerics. You will be unarmed, and pose no international threat when we go through the heavy inspection in Manila and upon arrival in war-torn Ethiopia. The only weapons on board will be the Isis dagger and blades-which I will say have come from the Vatican... which, they did at one time, so technically, that is not a lie."