Free Ghost Soldiers by Keith Melton Page A

their eyes on her back. John Passerini had been right. The noose was drawing tighter.
    So the question remained: what was she going to do about it?

Chapter Eight: Respects
    Maria stood as close to her father’s grave as she dared. She’d brought Xiesha for bodyguard duty, snagged her Glock 9mm and headed here shortly after sunset, hoping to find some relief or at least distraction from all the turmoil and worries churning in her mind. Xiesha stood guard a few feet off, her twelve gauge hidden beneath a long overcoat and her head turning as she continually scanned for threats.
    Maria’s father, Alberto Ricardi, was buried at St. Joseph’s Cemetery beneath a black marble headstone showing his name and the dates of his birth and death. His funeral had been held in the daylight, so she’d missed it. Still, she’d paid her respects many times since then. She’d watched him die, unable to save him. In fact, God forgive her, she’d helped lure him to his death at the command of her former master, Delgado.
    It hurt to be here, hurt in so many ways. The cemetery grounds had been consecrated, but long ago, and the power of the holy rites had faded over time. Even so, she couldn’t stand too close to the actual gravesite, and every time she hopped the low stone wall and entered the grounds, it felt more like she was smashing through a plate-glass window. The crosses and stars of David glowed with a faint blue-white shimmer, painful, but dim enough that they didn’t drive her away, though she avoided walking too close. Every step brought more pain, burning as if she trod on hot coals. She could tolerate it, and she did. If Karl could endure the pain to pray for the people he killed, then she could endure it to pay respects to her father, because when had penance ever been pleasant?
    She squatted and brushed her fingers over the blades of grass as she stared at his stone. Once, when she’d been, what? Eight? Nine? He’d taken her to the Museum of Science to see a Dinosaurs of the Gobi exhibit—just her, not her brother Paul, who’d been so pissed he’d given her an Indian burn later when they’d been alone. But ah, how she’d loved walking beside her father and looking at all the displays. He’d bought her anything she’d wanted from the gift store, but she hadn’t cared about that. All she’d cared about was holding his hand and laughing whenever he’d told her he was going to steal one of those dinosaur bones and give it to her dog.
    What would he think of her now? What would he think, with the FBI closing in and the Commission unhappy? She shook her head. What would he think of her and Karl together? In her mind she could see the disapproval on his face. She’d always known he’d have preferred her married off to someone out of the life, squeezing out little grandkids for him to spoil rotten. She’d fought so hard against that…but where would she be now if she’d been less determined, less…headstrong?
    â€œThorn knights,” Xiesha whispered, moving close to her and clearing her shotgun from beneath her coat.
    Maria stood, locking in on the sound of soft footsteps. Her hand slipped behind her back and settled on her pistol’s grip. A woman moved toward her, walking with purposeful strides as if she had every right to be here after dark. She wore body armor over silvered chain mail, a sheathed sword on one hip, a large caliber pistol on the other. Her surcoat was black, with the brilliant splash of a white rose on the front, curling around a stem of dagger thorns. Long hair, streaked with gray at the temples. Black gauntlets with softly glowing silver crosses on the back. Her eyes were shooter eyes—hit man eyes. They reminded her of Karl.
    Slowly, Maria released her pistol and held up a hand to Xiesha, who lowered the shotgun with clear reluctance. She recognized the woman. She’d met her before—the