Chapter Seventeen

"Ms. Lombardi, it's been a while!" the young woman yelped as she lovingly wrapped her arms around the ambassador. She was a relatively tiny person and had dyed her hair a radiant shade of blue. "We thought we would be meeting you on the blimp! Why did you change your plans?" Zia shrugged at her question and pointed at Aeron.

"Don't ask me—this was all his idea!" the ambassador announced as her bodyguard turned to the Angel and started to pat him down. They had to be sure he wasn't carrying anything dangerous.

"Are you always this social with strangers?" Aeron asked the guard as she dug through his pockets. Eventually, she discovered his gavel and sighed.

"Do you think this meeting is a good idea, ma'am?" the girl groaned as she held the gavel up over her head. "I mean, this man is carrying a weapon! There's a chance that he's a threat!" The little lass had yet to realize just what she was holding. Bless her heart. She probably thought it was nothing more than a simple pistol.

"Don't worry. We can trust that one. So, give the man back his weapon," Zia told her bodyguard as she rubbed her head. This whole ordeal was going to give her a migraine.

"Hey, Ms. Lombardi," Aeron started as Zia's bodyguard searched through his shoes, "why don't you introduce us? I'd like to know the name of the person who's frisking me." Zia sighed as she placed a hand on her bodyguard's shoulder.

"This girl is Elizabeth Green. She's young and incredibly skilled in miracles and spells. Her partner is Kashif Abbasi. He's exceptional with a sword and a master of hand-to-hand combat," she explained as she waved for the only other person in the bridge to come forward.

"Greetings, Ms. Lombardi has already told you my name. It's a pleasure to meet you," the man introduced himself as he shook Aeron's hand. A heavy accent clouded his voice, and riddling his dark skin was an array of scars and strange tattoos.

"For someone of your position, you sure are understaffed," Aeron scoffed as he leaned against one of the windows. Typically, an ambassador would have at least five or six personal guards with them. Having just two was unusual.

"Yeah…" Zia conceded as she scratched the back of her head. "Sadly, I'm just the lowly representative of the poorest sector in Heaven. So, forgive me if I don't have the resources to pay for an army."

"Good point," Aeron said. "Plus, in the end, what matters is the quality of your troops. So, Ms. Lombardi, how good do you think these two are?" The second he finished his sentence, Aeron whipped out his gavel and playfully aimed it at Zia's head.

"Ma'am, get back!" Elizabeth yelled as she pushed the ambassador out of the way. After that, her bodyguards prepared themselves for battle and drew their weapons. Elizabeth had a small machine gun covered in a dense layer of extensively modified blessings. Within seconds it was loaded and pointed straight at his head.

"I recommend that you holster your piece, sir," Kashif ordered in a strangely deep voice as he rested his weapon—a collapsible baton—on Aeron's outstretched arm.

"How chivalrous," the Angel muttered as he gleefully lowered his gavel. "They're loyal to a fault." People like that were rare in the afterlife, especially amongst mortals. "I can't imagine what you two did when you were still alive to become like this. Hardened warriors of your breed aren't exactly common in God's garden." Aeron raised an eyebrow when he saw the pair frown. Did he hit a nerve? Before the situation could get worse, Zia stepped in to alleviate some of the tension.

"I found these two wandering together near the Pearly Gates a couple of years ago. Besides their names and the fact that they died, neither remembers anything about who they were while they were alive," she explained. For some reason, the fact that Zia's guards had amnesia didn't surprise him.

"That must've helped you when they wanted to negotiate their salary," Aeron joked. Zia rolled her eyes—as if she'd do anything that greedy!

"I'd appreciate it if you refrained from insulting me in front of my subordinates," she hissed. Loyalty was hard to earn and easy to lose. The last thing she needed right now was some outsider mocking her character.

"Ma'am, you still haven't told us who this guy is," Elizabeth snarled as she glared daggers at him. Any sense of trust between them had all but crumbled to dust. Aeron could tell that much. All this girl wanted right now was to send him to an early grave. Of course—considering that they were in the afterlife—that idea was ridiculous, but he omitted that little fact. Something told him it would just make everything worse.

"Well… he's," Zia mumbled as she bit her thumb. How was she going to explain this?

"My name's Aeron Weber," the Angel stated, "I'm a judge with The Bureau of Judgmental Affairs," he continued, the looks the two guards gave him when he said that were priceless. "I'm also an Angel, so please treat me well!" Zia swore that she could smell the smugness just dripping from Aeron's tongue, and the comically small halo he made appear over his head was the icing on the cake.

"You're an Angel?" Kashif mumbled, clearly flustered. Aeron was probably the first Cherub the man had met since arriving in Heaven. Aeron nodded as the tiny halo hovering above his head faded away into nothing. He'd made his point.

"But I thought Angels hated judges," Elizabeth chimed in as she scratched her left ear. For a little girl, she sure was perceptive. Aeron sighed as he typed a few commands into one of the nearby consoles.

"You've got that right. Us judges aren't that popular amongst my kin. Hell, a lot of my brethren think I'm a disgrace." Although that never bothered him. "Now, let's see. How was this supposed to work again?" Jeremy told him that this ship didn't require a trained captain. All he needed to do was input some coordinates, and it would go there on its own.

"Wait a minute," Elizabeth exclaimed as she pulled up a chair for Zia. "Isn't there only one Angel in the entire Bureau? I specifically remember someone telling me that. Who was it again? I can't remember." Zia pinched the bridge of her nose. The person guilty of spreading that misconception was probably her.

"That's not true," Aeron started as the ship began to rumble. "While I am the only Angel who's also a judge, quite a few of my kin are members of the Bureau's top brass. The Minister's name is Beurt, and let me tell you, he's a real piece of work."

"Are you insulting one of your own? That isn't very Angelic," Elizabeth commented as she looked out the window. The hangar was now just a distant dot on the horizon.

"There's a lot about this one that isn't Angelic," Zia chimed in as she took out a small tablet; this was supposed to be a meeting, so she should at least try to get some work done.

"Well, Ms. Ambassador, aren't we going to talk?" Aeron asked as he continued to type commands into the console. Already they were approaching the other diplomats' blimps. At this rate, they would be departing for Hell within the hour.

"Not here." Zia rolled her eyes. Did this Angel even know what he was saying? "We can't talk on the bridge of a rental transport! It's far too open!" Anybody with half a brain could easily attach a microphone to one of the ship's outer walls. "Elizabeth, I want you to take over the piloting. Keep us on course and try not to crash into anything," she told her bodyguard.

"Roger!" Within seconds, the girl had pushed Aeron out of his chair and had taken control of the vessel. The Angel had to admit that he was impressed at how quick she was. Her fingers were moving so fast that they were a blur. In a handful of minutes, she'd risen its shields, readied the available defenses, and checked every airlock for intruders.

"I can see why you hired her," the impressed judge said as Zia ushered him into one of the small meeting rooms. It was a far cry from any of the Bureau's conference halls, but it would do. The walls were plated with lead and steel to block outside transmissions, while small screens covered the actual table. From here, they could see through every camera on the ship. There was even an emergency failsafe they could press if they needed to lock the transport down. "Jeremy sure thought of everything," Aeron whispered to himself as he hopped into one of the seats. "So, where should we start?" There was so much to go over that he didn't know where to begin.

"The first order of business is finding out everything we can on Dr. Leeson," Zia spoke as she flipped through the folder. "We know he's close to Hell's top executives, but which ones?" There were thousands of Demons employed at that embassy. Sifting through them all would take years.

"What you see in that file is all the information we have on him. Unsurprisingly, he's a recluse," Aeron added as he took off his earpiece and placed it on the table. "Jeremy, can you hear us?" he asked as he pressed one of the small buttons on the side of the transmitter. After a few seconds of static, the head operator's voice finally came through.

"Yeah… loud and clear," they heard Jeremy say in between yawns. Beurt probably had him working all through the night again.

"How's the hangover?" Aeron playfully asked his coworker. Zia rolled her eyes as the two laughed—now wasn't the time for jokes.

"My head has been killing me since we spoke last night," Jeremy started, "but I'll survive." Zia sighed as she let out a breath in frustration. How did these two idiots ever manage to get their positions? Fate must be on their side. "Anyways," the man muttered as he cleared his throat. "You guys probably know this already, but this has to stay confidential. The Minister and his council are paranoid enough as it is without having to worry about demonic conspiracies and whatnot." As he spoke, Zia bit her lip.

"That means we won't be able to count on the Bureau's manpower," the ambassador said in her usual worried tone. Things were going from bad to worse. They were about to start prodding a nest of wasps without any backup. If they weren't careful, all of them would suffer dearly.

"Normally, that would be a problem. However, we have Aeron. So, I'm not that worried," Jeremy spat out. Zia couldn't tell if the man was serious or joking. No matter how strong he was, Aeron was just one Angel. What could he possibly do if things got hairy?

"That's not good enough!" No matter what Jeremy said, she wasn't going to risk this operation thanks to a lack of bodies. "We need more people to get this to work! Is there absolutely nothing you can do?" Jeremy sighed as Zia yelled into the transmitter. Did she forget that the Bureau refused to endorse this operation? His hands were tied.

"Trust me—the man may be an ass—but his talent is real." The power of the judges was not something one should underestimate. "Judges are soldiers blessed by the Almighty to do his bidding, and Aeron's the cream of the crop. Although, in my opinion, he's just a workaholic."

"I'm not going to deny it. I love my job," the Cherub added with a grin. Zia scoffed. That was an understatement. "What? Did I say something wrong?" She wasn't sure what it was, but something about his smile sent chills down her spine.

"An Angel who's also a total sadist," she whispered under her breath. Someone like that shouldn't even exist, but there he was. "If bullets start flying, can I trust you to keep us all safe?" Aeron chuckled and shook his head.

"Fuck no, I'm not your bodyguard. If you want protection, go ask your lackeys waiting outside." Reliable as ever, why was she not surprised? "Let's get this straight—even though we may be partners—our goals are entirely different. I think the Demons should be eradicated and leave it at that. But neither Jeremy nor you will let that happen. Isn't that right, Ms. Zia Lombardi?"

"Aeron, listen, I need you to calm down and realize that your gavel is not the solution to every problem. Heaven needs a place to put all the Universe's damned souls, and Hell happens to be that place. If you destroy it, all of us would be neck-deep in blood by the end of the week," the head operator groaned as Aeron scowled. Jeremy just had to kill his buzz.

"We need to focus on gathering information," Zia interjected as she skimmed over a few documents. "I suggest we start with Dr. Leeson's bodyguards." They may not get anything on the Demon himself, but his subordinates were a different story.

"Can you dig that up?" Aeron asked Jeremy as he twirled a pen around in his hands. The man scoffed. Who did he think he was? Some underpaid intern?

"Give me ten minutes. I'll get you those files." It was relaxing to know that at least one person there was taking their job seriously. As the operator went to work, Zia turned her attention to the stack of papers and sighed.

"If we could find out who his boss is, that would solve a lot of problems," she thought. Sadly, finding information like that was akin to discovering a needle in a haystack. "I'm assuming that your Angelic intuition isn't going to help us, Mr. Weber?" Aeron shrugged. If he had something like that at his disposal, this entire meeting would be completely unnecessary.

"I think we're being too impatient. Remember, Dr. Leeson is going to be at the summit as well. If we keep our eyes peeled, we may be able to spot his boss," he suggested. It was a simple strategy, but if they played their cards right, it just might work.

"We'll need more than just two pairs of eyes," the ambassador commented. "Jeremy, will it be a problem if we include my guards in this plan?" Elizabeth and Kashif might be amnesiacs, but they were excellent soldiers.

"Honestly, you should be asking Aeron that question, not me. He's the judge," Jeremy answered. His literal job was to assess the character of entire worlds. Skimming over two people wouldn't even make him break a sweat.

"Stop, you'll make me blush," the man joked as he turned to Zia and smiled. "Either way, they're your subordinates. So, you have the final say."

"I don't have a problem with it. Both earned a spot in Heaven via proper means. I doubt you'll find anything too worrisome. After all, you'll be judging my guards and not yourself." Ouch, when it came to insults, she didn't hold back.

"Alright," Aeron conceded as he strolled out of the room. "This won't take me too long. Jeremy, try to keep the princess entertained. I don't want her interrupting me when I'm working." It'd been a while since he last got to interview somebody. In a way, he was looking forward to it. "Sorry, Ms. Lombardi," he thought as his mouth twisted into a playful smirk. "I won't go easy on them just because they're your bodyguards." He had a feeling that this was going to be fun.

One and a half years ago...

I'm not exactly sure where to begin. So, I'll start with my name, which is Elizabeth Green. My new boss—Zia Lombardi—told me I should keep a journal. She said it might help me recover my memories, but I'm not sure this will accomplish anything. It's a weird feeling, being dead, I mean. Since I've forgotten who I was when I was alive, I don't know what to think about all of this. Who—in my position—could? When I first arrived in Heaven, all I remembered were my name and my miracles. Everything else vanished, and now it feels as if there's a gigantic hole in my skull.

Thankfully, it's not all bad. I'm not alone, after all. The person I arrived with, Kashif Abbasi, has also forgotten everything. If Ms. Lombardi didn't help us when she did, I don't know what we would have done. I guess the two of us would've wandered the streets of Heaven, unsure of our own identities. Thankfully, fate had different plans for us. Ms. Lombardi explained it all. She told us that we were spirits who'd arrived in the afterlife, and—if that wasn't enough—she offered us a job! We would be her bodyguards. Wherever she went, we went. The two of us would become her shadows, following her everywhere, even into the depths of Hell if necessary. Although, the chances of us getting an important assignment like that is laughable at best, as—even though Ms. Lombardi is an excellent person—her rank has her stuck. Since she is an Ascended, any possible growth she might have had as an ambassador has flown out the window.

However, that doesn't mean I'm going to give up. It's frustrating for me to watch her try so hard, only to get knocked back down into the mud. The prejudice is unbelievable and unfair, but it also serves as one of Ms. Lombardi's main drives. She wants to climb the bureaucratic ladder to help people like us. If I can aid her in achieving that goal, I don't care if I get my memories back.