Atonement

When the secretary of Mario Cuzi saw his dead body on the floor of his office, the media went into uproar. Cuzi was a very influential and powerful businessman. Everyone in Wall Street knew him; they were practically wrapped around his finger. He had people feeding his ever-growing ego every day; no one wanted or dared to cross him. That's why it was no surprise to some people when three days after his death, it was leaked to the press that he was a mafia boss.

But he wasn't the only one who was shot in the head by an unnamed sniper. One by one, powerful bosses and dealers dropped dead in their home or in their office and Mario Cuzi was just the most recent one.

At first, the FBI thought that it was a hired assasin, but as they investigated further, they saw the connection between the string of murders: a bullet engraved with the Latin phrase, "Dei gratia" meaning 'by the grace of God' and the symbol for Alpha and Omega. But that was the only evidence they had for the mysterious sniper that they called "Crow".

Maria could only laugh at the name that they gave the killer. She had expected a name that sounded religious. But she had to admit that, the name suited the killer. A crow was a harbinger of death and it accompanied souls to Heaven, according to folklore. The name was perfect for someone who was only doing what was right under God's bidding.

She suddenly stopped in front of a church, feeling that someone - no, something was watching her and looked up. And true enough, a crow rested on top of the spike. Its beady red eyes glinted under the moon's light as it stared at her from above. It was very unusual for a crow to have red eyes and usually when a crow is seen at church, it meant bad luck. The crow tilted his head and suddenly squawked making her blink in surprise. But when she opened her eyes, the spot where the crow was standing was empty.

She gulped and walked towards the door, pausing for a moment and looked at her surroundings. Old Gothic (even the Revival) churches always emitted this kind of eeriness at night that she couldn't help but to feel somewhat scared by it. It gave her goosebumps from head to toe. The trees surrounding the church were hollow, tall and seemingly dead. They seemed to tower over her, covering the light of the moon when she walked on a path towards the antique wooden door of the church. She grasped the rusted metal handle and pushed them open. No one would mind the noise anyway. It was an hour before midnight; no one went to church at that time.

Maria walked in and then slowly closed them, the sound of the door's hinges groaning as she did so. The only lit lights were beside the confessional and near the altar. Those lights gave off a different perspective on the stained glass windows, making them more eerie and holy at the same time. She stood in the aisle behind the pews and bowed her head, reciting a small prayer. After that, she opened the door to the rustic confessional and sat on the small chair inside.

"The church sure is beautiful at night," a grating voice said from behind the lattice, "So, Sister Maria, do you want to talk about work or do you want to confess something first?"

Maria could imagine the old man silently chuckling behind the lattice and focused her gaze on the small door in front of her as she said, "I already confessed. Father, please continue our conversation."

"Very well." He drawled out the last word, "Do you know the Central Museum of Art? There will be an auction on the fifteenth of this month and because of that, a lot of shipments will be arriving. This is only a camouflage, Sister. More than 100 million worth of cocaine and heroin will be sold in the auction. The cocaine and heroin will be hidden in the paintings and sculptures and sold to the highest bidder.

There are three targets: the bidders, the receiver and the shipper. Paul Copper, the British head of the shipping company that Harold Smith, the director of the museum hired to deliver the 'art pieces'. Copper will arrive on the very day of the auction. The details are in here," he slid a manila folder in a rectangular hole towards her.

There was a moment of silence between them as Maria accepted the folder. And then Father spoke up, "Sister Maria, what do you think about the name that the FBI gave you?"

"It's a good name," she curtly said, "May I take my leave now?"

Father fell silent to her curt reply. But she felt like he was grinning, chuckling silently behind the lattice. He said, "Give eternal peace to those who bear the cross of atonement. Sister Maria, you have been entrusted with the will of God. You are working under His orders so you are expected to do this with reverence. May their spirits be guided to the Lord and atone for their sins."

"Dei gratia, amen."