Free Judas and the Vampires by Aiden James Page B

of his omelet. “And her father, Dr. Stephen Golden Eagle, recorded similar experiences—multiple angelic visitations while he translated the Tibetan text for Stanislav.”
    “So, I guess the visitations had something to do with his translation work? And he was the first one to discover the papyri in question, correct?”
    The whole affair was taking on a ‘Mothman Prophecy’ sort of feel. Incidentally, ‘moth’ men are more closely related to most angels than the majority of paranormal enthusiasts realize. Very few angelic beings are as pretty as Christmas card depictions. Some are quite frightening, and we’re not even talking about demons.
    “Yes, that’s correct,” she said.
    She seemed much more relieved, and yet there was some nervousness about her father’s work. I wanted to find out much more about the angelic visitations, as well as the details of the manuscript. There was much to learn from her—very useful information both for the current adventure and possibly for something down the road. But now wasn’t the time to talk about it.
    “I definitely want to chat more about your father’s experiences, though not here in this place,” I said. She concurred with a subtle head nod. “Let’s finish our breakfast and do a little shopping.”
    ***
     
    Amy served as our tour guide that morning in the mall, taking us to the finer stores and other sites. For a while, I believe she seriously thought my son was truly in the market for some new designer luggage. Perhaps I let that ruse go on longer than I should’ve, but it served as a little payback for Alistair’s earlier indiscretion. There’s also a small amusement park inside the Mall of the Emirates, which he wasn’t averse to visiting. Better than the prospect of donning a pair of skis and possibly running over someone. Shortly after 11:00 a.m., we began our trek back to the main entrance, and were pleasantly surprised to find that our taxi had returned early.
    Unbeknownst to either my son or Amy, our three observers kept close watch as we moved through the mall—even coming within twenty feet of us at one boutique. I tried to get a better look at them just before we exited the main entrance and climbed inside the taxi. My view of them remained unclear, other than the guy with the distinctive ghutra. He looked pissed, as if they were supposed to detain us somehow or...worse.
    I kept thinking about it as our taxi raced back to the airport. Based on past experiences, I pictured the trio hopping into a Mercedes and racing after our car with assault rifles pointed at us through the windows. That’s all it took for me to take further precautions. This time, I slipped the driver two Grants to get us back to the airport in a hurry.
     
     
     
    Chapter 8
     
     
    Despite the challenge of getting Alistair and Amy back onto the airplane without alarming either one, all in all I was pleased we did so without any overt confrontations. Neither one noticed the three men running after us through the terminal as we boarded our Emirates luxury jet. I assumed in a matter of minutes we’d be back in the air, placing hundreds of miles between our pursuers and us.
    But we first had to contend with a surprise guest on the aircraft. Cedric Tomlinson sat in my pod, a glass of fresh champagne in one hand and a lit slim Panatela in the other.
    “William!” His contemptuous smirk belied the mellowness of his charismatic deep voice. “It’s so good to see you, brother!”
    I’m sure Ms. Golden Eagle was taken aback less by the presence of a complete stranger to her in our midst as she was by the man’s allure. A veteran of more than twenty years with the CIA and FBI, Cedric’s high cheekbones and deep brown eyes within flawless ebony skin had proven near-fatal time and time again for many debutantes in distress. At least for their hearts, I should say. Only the slight gray specks in his closely trimmed goatee gave away his age. Much like my son, Cedric had always