Lenora Worth - Secret Agent Minister

And neither was the man pulling her away from the cluster of passengers heading to their parked cars or waiting rides. She worried about the old woman. Did she have a ride home? Was she all alone in the world?

But Pastor Dev didn’t give Lydia time to visit with the old woman. Lydia watched as the spry woman shuffled off in another direction.

“What now?” she asked, breathless from being tugged at a fast-footed pace across the cracked commuter parking lot.

Pastor Dev stopped underneath a large oak tree. As if right on cue, his fancy phone beeped. “Yes?” he said into the phone. Then he said something really odd. “Have we put out a search for any lost sheep?”

She had to blink at that one. But she’d figured out not to ask questions, not when he was in that instruction mode, anyway. So she just listened. That’s how she’d learned so much in school. She was a good listener.

“Copy,” he said into the phone. Then “Where is the way to the dwelling of light?”

If Lydia hadn’t known better, she would have thought he was quoting scripture. Job, if she remembered correctly. She had always been good at memorizing Bible passages back in Sunday school.

But then he said, “Yes, I understand.” And that was that.

“We have to go,” he told her after he put the tiny phone away. “I have to get you to a safe place.”

She looked around. The train was gone. The carpoolers and night shift workers were gone. They were all alone at a train station somewhere in North Georgia. She glanced around, seeing the lights of the city miles away. “How are we going to get out of here?”

“We walk,” he said, as if this was the most normal thing in the world. Then he kept right on talking in that calm, normal voice. “It’s not seemly—you and I running off together. I have to consider your reputation. I need to get you to a safe house where there are highly trained chaperones who can help me watch over you. Before I leave.”

That got her dander up. “What did you say?” she asked, stopping and digging her heels into the asphalt. It still felt warm from the spring day. Or maybe that heat was coming from the steam rising inside of her.

He turned, let out a sigh. “Lydia, you shouldn’t be here. I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

And because that kind of sounded as if he cared about her just a tiny bit, she cut him some slack. But she still needed answers. “Nothing will happen to me if you’ll just tell me the truth.”

He stood there, his eyes touching on her face before he glanced off into the darkness. “We need to find a vehicle.”

“No, you need to tell me the truth.” She skipped two beats, giving him ample time to chime right in, then she let him have it good and proper. “Look, Pastor Dev, I’ve known you for close to three years now and…well, never in those three years have you ever so much as raised your voice at me. But tonight, tonight, something changed. I mean, besides the dead man in your bathtub and that big, scary gun, and those goons chasing us. You changed right in front of my eyes. And I do believe that means you owe me some kind of explanation.” Then she took off, her pumps pounding pavement. “You can talk while we walk.”

He caught up with her right away, reaching for her swinging arm. “Okay, all right. But the less you know, the safer you’ll be.”

“I can’t be safe if I don’t know what I’m fighting.”

He considered that for a minute. “You’re right. And you’re a very smart woman.”

“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.”