"Colonel Illyanov, yes." Watkins looked at her quizzically. "Four of the ones Sealed so far are Inquisitors, and two of them have gotten sudden promotions to the top rank; one other was already there. The rest of the Sealed are high ranking themselves or closely associated with rankers—not at all like Jeshua and His disciples."
Cortin shrugged. "That's how I'm told it's supposed to be, this time around. This is the Final Coming, and if the Protector defeats Shayan, He'll be reigning over at least the Kingdom Systems; His mortal staff will have to have some top-level experience to give Him proper support. I think you can expect to see more promotions and other changes in the fairly near future."
"God willing, He'll come into the open soon—promotions or not, I want to be Sealed myself."
"And he's not the only one," an intense-looking young Lieutenant said. "Don't get us wrong, Excellency, we sure wouldn't turn down any promotions, but over half the staff of the Center—maybe three-quarters of the Inquisitors—mostly want Sealed. Myself included."
Cortin's truthsense said they were understating the intensity of their desire for the Protector's chief benefit. Their yearning to be Sealed seemed to be every bit as strong as her desire to avoid the confrontation with Shayan she was sure would cost her her life—and if, she thought grimly, the Hell-King could manage it, with pain even greater than Mike's. She forced that thought back; the confrontation would happen, and a Strike Force member's job description practically guaranteed death in the line of duty—the questions were when and how, not if.
It didn't surprise her particularly that it was the Inquisitors who most wanted to take advantage of the Sealing. Their work, done properly, was a constant strain, with the accompanying urge to take out their frustrations on a subject—or not do what was needed to get vital information. The line between the Warrant-protected violence of their duties and the sin of giving in to personal weakness was a thin one, easy to rationalize crossing … "I'm praying for you and everyone else who wants His protection," Cortin said. "And I'm beginning to believe being Sealed is going to be necessary for Inquisitors in His Kingdom. We may never be loved, but having truthsense and being in a constant state of grace, we should at least be trusted, and only criminals will have any reason to be afraid of us."
Watkins smiled. "Theoretically that's true now—but in fact, I'd like to be able to walk down the street in uniform and not have half the sidewalk to myself."
Cortin chuckled. "That's a problem I haven't had lately, but I remember the feeling. I hope you get it soon."
Watkins frowned. "That doesn't sound like you expect to, Excellency."
Cortin looked at the red crossed daggers on her sleeve. "I'm Special Ops, Captain, and I've been told I'll be going face to face with Shayan. That has to mean it's my death that'll signal the Protector's arrival. So no, I don't expect to see His earthly Kingdom."