Page 51 of Fear No Evil
The priest, at first startled by her use of English, expelled a breath, clearly dismayed to hear it. “Oh, that’s devastating news. What about the other man?”
With a warning glance at her, Jake replied quickly, “He is alive, and we’re negotiating with the FARC for his release.” He stuck with his French accent.
“Well, that is something. And thank you for the work you’re doing here. Blessed are the peacekeepers.” The man smiled at them benignly.
Maggie had never felt more like a sham. Keeping an eye out for David, she pressed for more information. “Do you live on El Castillo?”
“Are you American?” he asked instead of answering.
“French. But I studied in the States, and now we live in New York.”
“Ah.” He pushed his glasses up his nose. “Well, to answer your question, I divide my time between a village at the base of the mountain and the radio station at the top, pausing occasionally to visit the rebels on my way up. It’s quite a hike, so I only do it once a week.”
“And the rebels tolerate you?” She marveled at his temerity.
“They do, which is astonishing. They’ve been sufficiently hospitable, and the younger rebels are open to my message.”
“What message is that?”
“Why the Good News, of course.” He looked back and forth between the two of them. Before she could ask him about the hostages, he added, “Are you Christians?”
Maggie tipped her head toward Jake. “He is.” Maggie acknowledged God’s existence, but she’d never needed Him—until Morocco.
Father Joshua blinked. “I see.” Father Joshua leaned in and pitched his voice lower, even as his gray eyes twinkled. “Well, the goal is this: If I can persuade the younger rebels that they are children of God, beloved by Him and charged by Him to loveothers, then the rebel faction will disintegrate. No one can love his neighbor as himself and kill him in the next breath.”
“I like it.” Jake glanced at Maggie to gauge her reaction.
“Huh.” The subversive nature of the priest’s plan appealed to her. The only problem was the grassroots effort would take too long. By the time the younger rebels had a say in what was going on, Jay Barnes would be dead, as well as Mike.
“You’re very brave.” She flattered him before asking, “Do you know where the hostages are located? Is it the camp near the top of the mountain?”
“Oh no. I am a coward.” The priest chuckled at himself. “Trust me, it is not my courage that brought me here. But with Christ before me, behind me, and beside me, what have I to fear?”
Still ignoring her question, he reconsidered Jake’s swollen face. “Well, I hope David finds just the thing you need, Jacques. He’s a smart boy, well educated.”
The man was going to walk away without telling them what he knew.
“Will we see you at the rebel’s camp?” Perhaps she’d get another chance to pick his brain.
“Not today, but possibly before you leave. How much longer are you here?”
Jake persisted with his French accent. “Juustone more week.”
“Well, I hope that happens.” The cleric swung a gaze between them. “It would be a privilege to pray for you. May I?”
Maggie frowned at him.Why don’t you just answer my question instead?
“D’accord,”Jake answered.Of course.
Smiling with pleasure, the priest clipped his canteen back on his belt. “Would you hold hands, please?”
Not knowing what to expect, Maggie gave her hand to Jake. To her surprise, the confusion and grief still roiling in her took a back seat to the pleasure of his firm grasp. And when the priest laid his own hand over the two of theirs, an unexpected calm stole over her, replacing her earlier despair.
She pretended to close her eyes along with the men, only someone had to keep vigilant in this environment.
“Loving Father—” The priest’s resonant voice played a melody over the rushing of the falls. “Gift your blessing upon this gracious couple as they do Your work in the world, seeking the release of captives…”
Maggie’s awareness shrank as she pondered whether Jake’s and her assignment could be categorized as doing God’s work. Studying the priest’s round face, she could tell he was immensely focused on what he would say next. “Jacques and Lena, if you know the 23rd Psalm in English, would you say it with me?”