CHAPTER SIX
“What in the world is that?” asked Priscilla staring at the strange plane-helicopter hybrid.
“Something of our own making,” said River waiting to see who would step out of the bird to greet them.
“Your making?”
“Priscilla, my family has a long history in Special Forces and private security. My great-grandfather was one of the founding members of REAPER. Have you heard of them?”
“Who hasn’t?” she said staring at him. “So, you’re involved with REAPER Patriots, Voodoo Guardians, the Gray Wolf guys, all of them?”
“Yes. My entire family is involved. My great-grandmother was with the FBI as a profiler. One of the best.”
“Holy cow,” she muttered. “So, now you’re part of Voodoo?”
“Well, technically they don’t exist any longer. They’ve rebranded themselves and there have been some changes. But, yes and no. I’m still a SEAL.”
“Are we still going to Coronado?” she asked as they walked toward the aircraft.
“That would be no,” said Patrick. “Hello, son.”
“Hi, Dad. Dad, this is Priscilla…”
“Yes, Priscilla Marciella. My father and I both knew your father, informally.”
“You did?” she smiled.
“We worked a few cases together. He was a great man. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Th-thank you,” she said staring at him. “I’m sorry, you look so much like River.”
“I look more like him,” said Christopher walking toward them.
“Not as much as me,” said Wes. “Hello, Priscilla. I’m Wes Jordan, his grandfather.”
“Grandfather?”
“Yep. And I’m his great-grandfather,” smiled Angel. “We wanted to come and see what all the strange messages were about.”
“Strange messages? I’m sorry. I keep repeating things in a question. I’m confused.”
“It’s alright to be confused. When help is needed, my family tends to show up in droves. If I had to guess, there are a few more men on that Osprey.”
“Why? We’re not in trouble.”
“You might be,” said Wes. “Come on. Let’s get out of here and we’ll explain.”
Priscilla looked at each of the men. It was as if someone hit the repeat button on a cloning machine and it got better each time. She knew she was safe with them and even if she wasn’t, what a way to go.
“Alright. Let’s go,” she said.
She walked confidently toward the aircraft and River just smiled at her swaying ass. It was well after midnight and they should be home long before daybreak but there was still a lot to weed through and find clarity.
“She the one?” asked Wes.
“Definitely, Grandpa. But as we’ve said on more than one occasion, something is rotten in Denmark.”
“Let’s talk.”
Thirty minutes later they were airborne and headed to the southwest. Priscilla kept listening intently, trying to hear the sounds of the rotors or jets but she heard nothing.
“This is the strangest bird I’ve ever been on,” she said looking around. From the outside it seemed of average size to any Osprey. But on the inside, it was as if you’d hit a magic button and there was double the space. How was it all possible?
“It’s something we’re very proud of,” said Patrick. “If you weren’t aware, G.R.I.P. is our company.”
“G.R.I.P. the weapons and tech geniuses that everyone wants? Holy cow,” she said staring at the men.
“Even at the bureau I’ve had to beg for new equipment and often didn’t get it.
Listen. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the very attractive escorts, but, why?
I feel as though you’re not telling us something. ”
“Beautiful and smart,” smirked Wes. “Keep her.”
“Thank you. I think,” she frowned. “But we’ve just met. I mean, we had one date, a half a date over coffee and then discovered Celine.”
“It was a full date,” grinned River. “But she’s right. We’ve only just met.”
“Doesn’t matter,” smirked Angel. Priscilla stared at him with a questioning gaze. “I met my wife while shopping for some friends who just had babies. She helped me find the perfect gifts, I asked her to coffee, and then I proposed to her.”
“That’s crazy,” she whispered.
“Is it?” smirked Wes. “I met my wife when we were kids. We grew up together in Louisiana.” Priscilla looked at River’s father.
“Oh, I met my wife, a humanitarian aid worker while she was trying to save a child from being forced to marry an elder in a local tribe. Pretty much proposed within the first week.”
“That’s not normal,” she said matter-of-factly.
“No,” laughed River, “I suppose it’s not but it is in our family. We don’t have anyone that’s had a long, drawn-out relationship.”
“I need a minute here. Am I being kidnapped for marriage, am I being protected from something, or am I using my paid leave? I’m very confused.”
“It could be a little of all of that,” smirked Angel.
“Explain. Please,” she said straightening in the seat.
“I like her. To the point,” said Wes. “Celine Johnstone isn’t a real person.”
Priscilla stared at the men, then at River and back again. She thought perhaps they were losing their minds. Or maybe she was and should have never gotten in the plane with them.
“She was a very real person,” said Priscilla. “I worked with her for almost four years.”
“You worked with her but it wasn’t Celine Johnstone,” said Patrick. “Celine Johnstone died at just eight months old. Her social security number was used by the woman you knew as Celine.”
“How was this not caught by the bureau?” she asked.
“We’re going to look into that. The woman you knew as Celine, as of right now, is anonymous. We have no clue who she is, was. At this very minute, we have a team of people scouring her home for prints.”
“But the police did that,” she said.
“They did a shitty job,” said Wes. “Forgive the language. They did a terrible job. We knew they would. We’ve got five of our best men in there right now looking through everything.”
“But it’s a crime scene,” said Priscilla. “You could be jailed for this.”
River looked at her, then back at the men around her. He knew she was struggling with bending rules. Priscilla was a rule follower, which was what attracted him to her.
“Priscilla, if we’re going to find out who Celine really was and what she was doing, we’re going to need to bend a few rules. If we don’t, the bureau will just claim it was a random act of violence,” said River.
“We have reason to believe that if River hadn’t asked you to join him for coffee and dinner, he might have been accused of her murder or worse, been an additional target,” said Angel. Priscilla stared at him, swallowing hard, tears filling her eyes.
“I see,” she whispered. “It all makes sense now. You needed me for an alibi.”
“No!” yelled each man. River held up a hand to them.
“No. Absolutely not. I had no clue something was going to happen to her. How would I have known that? I invited you because I wanted to. But with you there, with me, it ruined the plans for whoever did kill our unknown.”
“Sorry,” she said shaking her head. “You’re right. You couldn’t have known we’d find her dead. I’m sorry. I guess the night is catching up with me.”
“There’s a bedroom at the back of the plane along with a shower. Feel free to freshen up. There are sweats in the drawers, various sizes available. Why don’t you go lie down? I’ll wake you when we arrive,” said River.
She nodded, standing as the men stood like gentlemen with her. Priscilla grinned at them, shaking her head.
“I’m not sure I’ll get used to this any time soon,” she smiled. “Thank you. Especially you, River. Thank you for being there with me tonight.”
He leaned down and kissed her cheek, hugging her as she turned and walked toward the back, closing the door.
“She’s amazing,” smiled Patrick at his son. “Beautiful.”
“Very beautiful,” said Wes. Angel nodded at them all.
“And very much in danger.”