REQUIEM MASS by Mark Posey
A Nun with a Gun. Book 4.0
Mystery Thriller Short Story
The man who ordered her death lands in her lap…
The Cardinal Secretary of State, Giovanni Buscaglia, arrives in Philadelphia, his four henchmen by his side. Sister Jacobine shows up at his hotel to put an end to his attempted grab for power within the church. She never imagined that the consequences of her actions would rip her heart in two.
A Nun With A Gun is a series of short stories and novelettes about Sister Jacobine, the Pope’s hitwoman. They are best read in order.
1.0 Feet of Clay
2.0 A Port in the Storm
4.0 Requiem Mass
5.0 Den of Lions
6.0 The Narrow Gate
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So much action and emotion packed into a short story. I'm thoroughly enjoying the adventures of Alice (aka Sister Jacobine). This latest addition to the series further draws us into the trials and traumas associated with her long life of service as a hit woman for the Vatican. A touch of humility from an unexpected visitor makes this story even more three dimensional. I was very drawn into Alice's emotions in this book and look forward to reading what is next for her in the series.
I highly recommend this series but you really need to start them in the correct order to fully appreciate the interesting character development and evolving story.
Sister Jacobine aka Alice is back in another action packed story. This installment continues to be fresh and interesting and keep you wondering what will happen next and how she will get out of her latest situation.
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EXCERPT FROM REQUIEM MASS
COPYRIGHT © MARK POSEY 2020
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
The knock on the front door was so soft, Alice wasn’t sure she’d heard it.
She and Mike had come to visit the Raffertys on Saturday morning with the requisite doughnuts and they were all gathered around the kitchen table. Cups of steaming coffee for the adults and plastic glasses of milk for Susie and Christine.
The laughter and conversation, almost shouted at times, was plentiful and easy. The company of friends, something Alice missed while living at the Vatican, was refreshing and uplifting.
Then, in a gap in the conversation, the light, almost not-there knock on the door came again. This time, they all heard it.
All four adults stiffened. Knocks on that front door had not been well-received, lately.
Alice, Mike and Rafferty sprang to their feet. Rafferty headed for the door, Alice and Mike stood in the middle of the living room, hands resting on the guns in their holsters.
Rafferty peered through the peephole and immediately drew his head back. He glanced at Alice and Mike. “It’s just some old man.”
They relaxed slightly, hands still resting on the butts of their pistols.
Rafferty opened the door, bracing his arm across the opening.
The old man on the front steps was thin and stooped, with a full shock of silvery white hair. Alice recognized his hooked nose and square chin immediately.
She stiffened and narrowed her gaze. “Roberto.”
“I was sure you’d be here, my dear Alice.” Roberto’s accent was heavy Italian.
“What are you doing here?” Alice moved to the door, bristling.
Rafferty stepped back out of the way.
“It was the only way.” Robert shrugged.
“The only way to what?”
“I am afraid I do not, Roberto. You will have to tell me.”
“To beg your forgiveness, my darling Alice. Buscaglia got into my head. I made rash decisions, to get him off my back. Decisions I shouldn’t have made…”
Mike scowled and glared at Alice. “Who the hell is this guy?”
“Please come in, Roberto.” Alice stepped back to allow the old man to move into the foyer.
He smiled at Mike and Rafferty, then at Geri and the girls as they came in from the kitchen.
Alice indicated them each in turn. “May I present Constable Michael Fredericks. Constable Martin Rafferty. His wife, Geraldine Rafferty and their two children, Susie and Christine.
Fredericks and Rafferty shook the old man’s hand and Geraldine strode forward with the girls in tow to shake his hand, too.
The old man laid his hands on the girl’s heads.
They shyly clung to Geri’s legs.
“Michael, Martin, Geraldine, girls, I present His Holiness, Pope Benedict the Seventeenth, Roberto Giovanni Giordano.”