Crisis of conscience

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"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It has been two weeks since my last confession." Weis sat down in the chair beside Father Allen.

"And here I was, thinking that since I had not heard from you, you were staying out of trouble." Allen shook his head with mock sorrow.

Weis had become a frequent visitor since the lab had been moved, but not because he was perpetually sinning. His two best friends had been Matheson, who took a transfer, and Burke, who had been killed. He came mostly for companionship, for someone to talk to that he didn't have to watch what he said.

"To err is human, to forgive is Divine. I'm just keeping up my end." The scientist shrugged. Although his voice was light, his eyes were dark with the sadness that appeared from time to time. He had yet to speak of it, and Father Allen was waiting patiently for the day that he would.

"So where would you like to start?" The priest leaned back in his chair, hoping that today Weis would finally talk about what was bothering him.

"It's no secret that I have ambition. I've managed to work my way into a better position than I came in with, and I'm angling for a promotion. I don't rock the boat, that was always Burke." Weis paused, sucking in a breath as though the memory of her hurt him. "But I've learned something disturbing. I'm not sure I can keep quiet about it, and yet it would be career suicide to say anything to the wrong people. I have no idea how far up the chain this was approved."

"Then talk to me. Anything said during Confession is sacrosanct. I will not reveal your secrets."

"I don't know if I should put your life at risk, just for temporary peace of mind. The trade seems a bit uneven." Weis ran both hands through his spiky blonde hair.

"Why should my life be in danger?" Allen tensed, but did not change his posture, hoping the relaxed pose would provoke Weis into saying more.

"They've already killed Burke, and they're planning eleven more deaths, why would they stop at a priest?" Weis looked up; hands still on his head, and the blue eyes were deadly serious.

"What are you talking about?"

"Did it ever strike you as strange that Burke, brilliant though she was, was the target of a counterintelligence strike? The kind of thing, I feel I must remind you, that has not happened since the Cold War? Hmm?" His brows arched in question.

"Well yes, but I am hardly in a position to know how often such a thing occurs. I just assumed from the way everyone was acting that it happened sometimes." Allen shrugged his broad shoulders. While he was sorry she had died, he had not known her well enough to take her death so personally.

"No, it doesn't. I think a special team went in to shut Burke up. She was making too many waves, and people higher up on the food chain were not pleased."

"You don't know that for certain." Father Allen sat up straight, abandoning his relaxed posture.

"Not for certain, no. But the fact remains that Burke knew too much, and had a conscience about it. It's not a healthy combination, especially not in the line of work we're in. I'd warned her before, the first time I got wind that something was up, but she didn't listen. I should have made her listen." The guilt in his voice was thick enough to walk on.

"Did you tell her everything you knew?" Allen laid a hand on the smaller man's shoulder.

"Yes." Weis said sharply.

"And she continued on her course regardless of what you said to her?" the Father's voice was very gentle.

"Of course." His blue eyes were bright with indignation.

"Then what else could you have done?" Father Allen asked in that same soft voice, so at odds with his huge frame.

"Hell, I don't know. But I can't shake the feeling that if I'd said or done something different... Burke would still be alive." Weis buried his face in his hands again.

"I understand what you mean. I too have had my days of doubt, where I heaped recrimination so heavy on my head that it was a wonder I could lift it, but you cannot change the past. You can only learn from it." Allen closed his eyes for a moment, the ghosts of his past crowding close.

"You're right. I should learn by Burke's example. Thank you Father. This has been a most enlightening conversation." Weis pushed his chair back so suddenly that the metal legs screeched across the tile floor.

"That's what I'm here for." The Father looked up, not convinced that Weis was 'all better', but knowing that they had gone as far today as they were going to.

It wasn't until after Weis left that Allen remembered what he had said about eleven more deaths. Was he talking about the Black Dragons? There were eleven of them, and they were about to go on a 'training mission' in a foreign country. Disturbed by the ramifications, Father Allen stared blankly at the wall.

After several hours of thoughtful prayer, Allen headed out of his little office to do the only other thing he could. He was going along for the ride. At best having a priest along for the mission would be a deterrent to whatever was planned. At worst, well, he'd learned to survive in far deadlier jungles than the one the Dragons were headed for. His experience might get them out alive too.

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Author's note: TimmyS, I will work on Dark Wings this weekend and have it off to my webmistress to post. Check or the NC17 section of WBConnections on Monday or Tuesday. The update will probably show up first at Connections, as Wolfie has to put up what I send to her, I can't post it to our site direct. (which is probably for the best, I and the Dreamweaver Program do not get along well)