Book lowered himself into the chair and sniffed the liquid. He had anticipated wine, which he would have had to decline, but to his delight found that he was drinking clean, fresh water. Cooled to a perfect chilliness, it was nectar on his tongue and went a long way to dispelling the ache in his head from the blows he had received at the hands of Charlie Dunwoody and company.
Wong sat opposite. The years had been kind to the former commander of the Alliance Anti-Terrorism Division. Taller than Book, his spine was ramrod straight. He was tanned and fit, his once-black hair now a sleek silvery gray instead of plain white like Book’s. He was wearing black trousers and a slate-colored shirt, appearing almost militaristic.
“So,” he said, “Derrial Book got rolled. Who would have thought? You, of all people.”
Book smiled sheepishly. “Maybe I’m losing my edge.”
“I doubt it. What happened?”
“I offered charity to a man who decided I was being too stingy.” Book shrugged. “As they say, no good deed goes unpunished.”
“Well, you were certainly punished.”
“I’d like to say I had the situation under control…”
“But clearly you did not.”
“And you, equally clearly, have not lost your edge,” Book said. “That was some fancy footwork, for an old man.”
“I keep in shape,” Wong said. “I have a dojo on the premises and spar practically every day with my trainer. Just because I’m retired doesn’t mean I have to atrophy. Also, I had the element of surprise. Those fellows didn’t see me coming until it was too late to do them any good.”
“A dojo. A room like this. A house this size. Staff.” Book motioned at the butler, who acted oblivious, as though he was not even present in the room. “You’re doing pretty well for yourself, Mika.” Especially, he didn’t say, for a man living on a military pension. For sure, the commander of an entire department would receive a decent annuity and plenty of perks, but enough to afford this kind of lifestyle? Not likely.
“I get by,” Wong said. “How about you? Still sequestered away at Southdown?”
“I left the abbey a few months back. Thought I’d walk in the world a while.”
“Why?” Wong crossed his legs and sipped from his glass. “I avoid it as much as possible.”
“I find I still have things to do. A life of contemplation and prayer provides one with a peace that passeth all understanding, but our universe is far from peaceful. It seems self-indulgent to live apart, when so many are in need of help.”
“You always were a bit of a radical.”
“Or a pragmatist. We raise ourselves up by lifting others.”
“You’re full of pithy quotes.” Wong smiled, but his gaze was sharp, brittle. Assessing. “It’s been a long time,” he added. “You’ll have to catch me up.”
“Quid pro quo,” Book returned. “I never dreamed you’d retire.”
“Forced out.” Wong’s tone was rueful and not a little resentful. “New guidelines for mandatory retirement. They thought I was past it.”
“That’s a shame,” Book said. “Shepherds don’t retire. We just… redefine our vocations.”
As Book took another swallow of water, he studied Wong. When he had known him before, the commander had been all spit-and-polish, a minimalist who traveled light. The Mika Wong of the past would have scoffed at the luxury in which the two of them now sat, and would have questioned the method by which such obvious wealth had been acquired if he were investigating someone else. He might well have accused a retired Alliance officer who lived like this of illegal practices. And Book recalled the waitress in the Sea Wolf saying as much about him. Forcing businesses to pay for protection? Could such a thing be true?
“At any rate,” he said, “I’m glad you happened along when you did. Otherwise I’d be a whole lot poorer than I already am, and a whole lot more damaged, too.”
“Yes, how are you feeling? Recovering from your ordeal?”
“More or less. I’m going to have a few lumps and bumps to show for it, but that’s nothing new. Not to look a gift horse in the mouth or anything, but was it sheer chance you showed up?”
“You ask the question in a manner which suggests you don’t think it was.”
“Let’s just say I’m wary of sudden turns of good fortune.”
“Even when they might all be part of God’s divine plan?” Wong laughed teasingly. “It was sheer happenstance, Derrial, genuinely. I was in the area, just passing through. Although, that being said, I was keeping half an eye out for a preacher, because I’d lately got word that one such had been asking around about Hunter Covington and Elmira Atadema.”
The remark was a probing stiletto. Book parried. “Was it by any chance a waitress at the Sea Wolf told you that?”
“Saskia?”
“If that’s her name. A bountiful woman in every regard.”
Wong shook his head. “No, not her, although she has been known to send the odd piece of useful information my way now and then.”
“No, come to think of it, I was set upon almost as soon as I left the Sea Wolf. You must have heard about me earlier than that. I know. The clerk at the quartermaster’s office. Smotrich.”
Now Wong nodded. “Smotrich earns a very modest salary. If he spies an opportunity to supplement it with a little extra cash, he seizes it with both hands. He’s aware that I have an interest in Covington and Elmira. The funny thing is, as soon as he mentioned a Shepherd, you were the person I immediately thought of. What does that say about me, I wonder?”
“Says to me you don’t know that many Shepherds.”
“You know, in some ways it came as a surprise when I learned that Derrial Book had gone into the church. Back in the day, when you and I were both in uniform, I’d never have pegged you as a candidate for the clergy.”
“At the risk of you accusing me again of being full of pithy quotes, the Bible has something to say about there being more joy in heaven over one sinner that repents than over ninety-nine just persons who need no repentance.”
“You were a sinner?”
“Aren’t we all?”
“I suppose you might consider yourself that, in light of what you did — or rather what you were accused of doing. Me, I always considered you a just person. There was a fundamental integrity about you which, I can see now in retrospect, makes you well fitted for the religious life. Tell me, was it hard making the switch?”
“Exchanging one institution for another? The Alliance for the Order? Not really. It’s all just structure and hierarchy, at least on the surface.” Book was choosing his words with care. His past— before Southdown Abbey — was a minefield. He didn’t much enjoy revisiting it, and he always trod warily when he did. There were so many things that could explode in his face, and Wong knew more than a few of them. “Listen, Mika, much as it’s pleasant to catch up, and much as I appreciate you interceding when I needed it, I’m currently conducting some business that’s, to put it mildly, urgent. I have some associates I’d like to check in with.”
Wong made a be-my-guest gesture.
Book pulled out his comm link. “In private, if I may.”
“As you wish.” Wong turned to dismiss the butler.
“I mean complete privacy. Some other room, perhaps? Where I can be on my ownsome?”
“How about I show you to my office?
“Well, I wouldn’t mind stretching my legs,” Book said amiably, “and to be honest, I’d like to see the rest of your home.”
“Not what you expected, eh?” Wong said with some pride. “I came into an inheritance shortly after I retired.”