A/N - I want to clear something up really quick-like ~S~ In response to a review I received from someone named May… ~takes a deep breath~ One of my personal mantras is that I do not discuss politics or religion. I've lost a lot of friends that way. But for the sake of clarity, I'm going to do that very thing right now and clear this up.
This is a work of Fiction. Follow the story and please remember that at this point, not all the facts are put forth yet. I rather expected to get some comments like this I respect everyone's opinion.
Do I believe the same way as Litha? Yes - at times. Am I going to hell? I don't think so. I think your God is wise enough to understand that we all have our own opinions that have been shaped by the world and the way we were raised. Nothing's perfect. May, I don't believe in God the way that you do, I'm sure. I don't think it's fair of you, however, to say that you liked the story until the character called God a hypocrite. Lilith Sinclair Donovan's perspective IS that God is a hypocrite. You also have to remember that maybe she's not in heaven… maybe she is…
OK - end of clarification. On with the next part!!
--
Frank stared blankly at the open file on his desk. After he'd woke two days ago to find Litha gone and this left on her desk, he'd been too numb to do anything about it. She was gone and hadn't told him. He didn't know if he should feel anger, hurt, betrayal… or all three. Alex and Jake were calling in their contacts around the world, trying to find her. Cody was doing everything he could computer-wise to hack into the files to find her and Monica was keeping a hawk's eye on him.
A soft tug at his hand brought his eyes from the file to his daughter. He'd brought her to work with him the last two days, not having anything else to do with her really. Usually Litha took Lina with her to her office where she taught self-defense. Frank smiled and lifted her up onto his lap, the 8 am sunshine streaming through the windows behind in and illuminating her short cap of ink black ringlets as if they were a halo.
"Where's Mommy?"
"Mommy's gone for a few days. She'll be back soon."
"I miss Mommy."
"Me too." He hugged her tight.
Lina sighed as she hugged her daddy. Mommy never left without a reason, that's what she'd heard him tell Uncle Jake. Mommy belonged here with her and Daddy, which was reason enough to come home.
Frank absently rubbed Lina's back as she laid her head on his shoulder. His eyes caught a movement on the stairs outside of his office and immediately after that, he saw Alex peek her head in.
"Hey, Frank… we got something."
--
Litha shot up out of the chair and grasped the angel by the front of it's robes. 'Answer me damn you!! AM I DEAD ALREADY?'
'Would it matter if you were?'
'Would it matter if I shot your sorry ass?! I was told the reason I was here was to determine if I lived or died. NOT that I was here to face a board of inquiry in the here-after!'
'One is the same as the other.'
'No. It's not. I still have yet to get an answer to MY question.'
'And that question would be?'
'Who is responsible?'
--
"Luis Mendoza is in town. He arrived late last night."
"You lost me," Frank said as he leaned back in his chair. He'd put Lina on the floor to play while he and Alex talked. "What does Mendoza have-"
"He's on the shortlist of the Colombian Ambassador and the opposing Presidential Candidate for Colombia, Ramon Guzman."
Frank's forehead wrinkled up as he processed everything. A literal 'kick me' sign inviting the CIA into Colombia. In his hand was Litha's badge, the dented one he'd kept ever since he nearly lost her the last time. The rough edges of the bullet trail were oddly comforting to him. "Find Mendoza."
Alex nodded and shot down the stairs while shouting for Jake. Frank turned back to Lina. She sat in his chair, scribbling on a piece of paper with that same focused and disseminating look that Litha accused him of wearing while working on something. She looked so much like her mother.
--
'Again you ask that same question. What is this burning need to know who is responsible?'
'Call it arrogance. If Mendoza is not the one who is responsible for me being shot and killed, then who is? I was asked earlier who was ultimately responsible for everything. I was told to ask myself that. Well, I have. And so far all I've gotten is a tribunal asking ME all about the sins of my life.'
'So you believe in sin now?'
'I never believed in sin. I believed in right and wrong.'
'And the two are not the same in your opinion?'
'I live in a world of shades of gray, not black and white. The truth is a lie and a lie can be the truth. It is all in how you see it and how it will affect others. I think politicians call it a 'trickle down effect'. I kill Mendoza, Guzman and the Colombian Ambassador. Colombians get the hint that the United States will not tolerate such public support of the drug cartels.'
'And that will ease the drug flow into the United States?'
'Not immediately, no.'
'Then why do it?'
Litha looked at the angel beside her, then the other angels on the tribunal. Short of laughing, she kept it to a smile and leaned back in the chair. 'Someone once told me that very few people know what it's like to be us. We do the jobs that normal people don't have the stomach to do themselves. We become the criminals, touch their lives and they touch ours. We are forever changed by what we do.'
'Again, we fail to understand.'
'The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one.'
'And this is the excuse you use to justify what you do?'
'Without people like me, ordinary people would have to face the cold hard reality of what REAL life is like. Sure, it's easy to sit back in their barco-loungers and call us baby-killers or monsters, to pass judgement on the actions we undertake to ensure their safety and spit in our faces because we had to do the fucking job.' She stood up and looked pointedly at the angels in front of her. 'Quid pro quo boys. Give me my goddamned answers!'
The angel put his hand on her shoulder to calm her. As she turned to him, he smiled and said, 'Best dress for humility then.'
****