"Wait." I could see a faint sheen on his brow, and his eyes held a look very close to panic. He gulped and said, "Thirty thousand, half in advance. Let me check. I should have an answer in an hour. While we wait, would you join me for dinner?"
I raised an eyebrow, my mind putting some of the puzzle together. There were other thieves that could do this job, but they very specifically wanted us. "Your employer must be close if you expect an answer in an hour. If he finds our terms too high, I can recommend a few others that could take on a job of this nature."
Franco looked startled and wouldn't meet my eyes. "Ah. Yes, close. If you'll excuse me I'll send my message, and have the cook send up something to eat."
Franco stepped out and I caught Nina's eye from across the room. She gave an imperceptible shrug. She strolled towards the door and was intercepted by one of Franco's lackeys. She frowned, but let herself be guided back to the group, glancing at me.
I turned to the man standing behind me. "I believe I will use the facilities while Franco is busy. Can you point me in the correct direction?"
He smiled. "Of course, madam. Luckily this is one of the best suites here, and it has its own toilette." He pointed me towards a small door that was hidden by a curtain.
I smiled a thank you and moved around him to the small door, fuming. Well that didn't work. I looked back at Nina and shrugged. This was not good. So far Franco’s lackeys had been polite, but they were intent on keeping us here. I took a few deep breaths and rejoined the group, returning just as Franco did, followed by a waiter pushing a cart covered in steaming food. It smelled wonderful.
As the waiter set out a small buffet, I asked Franco, "I must admit, curiosity has the better of me. How do you anticipate getting a response so quickly?"
Franco gave me a wry smile, "As I said, my employer is a collector. Religious items are not the only thing he collects, and he has loaned me some miniature mechanical devices that allow for rapid transmission of information. I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to show them off though."
I nodded, temporarily satisfied as I nibbled on a small quiche. "I'm sure you encounter quite a few interesting mechanical devices in your line of work. It is useful to have surprises up one's sleeve."
We continued to make meaningless small talk and indulge in pastries until one of his men stuck his head in the door. "Boss, I have a reply for you."
"Excuse me for a moment, Jac," he said, as he strode towards the door. I took a moment to admire his trim backside as he paced the length of the room, smiling to myself. Nina snickered quietly behind me. "Could you look a little less like a cat eyeing a fat chicken?"
I chuckled, "It rarely hurts to look."
A few moments later Franco returned. His voice was cool, disapproving. “My employer has agreed to your terms. I will see the monies delivered to your ship tomorrow morning. While we wait, we should discuss the item."
I nodded. "Excellent. What are we acquiring?"
Franco led the way over to a small desk and rolled out a parchment with drawings on it. "The item in question is a hat. A Miter to be exact. This is the hat the Pope wears at all religious appearances and is considered to be a holy relic. The Miter of St. Peter.” The drawing showed a slightly conical headpiece, decorated intricately with a variety of precious and semi-precious stones and embroidery.
Franco continued. “The Swiss Guard protects the Vatican; they’re legendary in their efficiency and their brutality in dealing with trespassers."
Nodding, I agreed. All mercenaries, thieves or otherwise, knew about the Swiss Guard - the elite force guarding the Vatican. "Do you have a map of the palace and Vatican City?"
"Vatican City, yes." He handed over a rolled-up sheet of parchment. "The Vatican Palace, no. I can sketch a general layout for you, but it will be incomplete at best."
I handed the map to Nina and bent over the drawing of the hat itself. "Anything special we should know about this relic? Don't relics supposedly have powers?"
He laughed, "Captain, don't tell me you’re superstitious.” "Just being cautions—I've seen more than a few strange things in this world," I replied.
"No powers that I know of. It is covered in pearls and gems, and the thread for the embroidery is gold. Not to mention its historical value."
Nodding I agreed. “Do you know where it’s kept?”
Franco drummed his fingers on the table for a moment. “I do not know exactly where. It will likely be one of three places, on Pope Clément’s head, in the Vault of Relics or on display for the pilgrims on the alter in the cathedral.”
"I see. Do you know where this vault is within the palace?” Nina handed me the map, anticipating my thoughts. I unrolled it on top of the drawing of the Miter.
“I’m afraid not.” He shrugged apologetically.
Studying the map I quipped, “Well, I guess we shall just have to steal it off his head.”
Franco chuckled. “I would pay extra to see that.”
“What are these buildings here?” I asked, pointing to several large structures outside the walls of the palace.
“Monasteries, mostly, and this one is a cathedral.” Franco pointed to a cross shaped building marked on the map.
I nodded, thinking. “When do you want it delivered, and where?"
"One month from now, and meet me here. I will ensure my employer receives his package, and you receive the remainder of your money."
I shook my head. “What hold does this employer have on you, that you protect his privacy so thoroughly, yet disapprove of his choices?”
A slight flush crept up Franco’s neck, “My employer is none of your concern.”
I nodded, conceding the point, rolled up the drawing of the hat and stuck out my hand. "I'll see you tomorrow. I look forward to receiving the first payment. A pleasure doing business with you."
He shook my hand. "As you say. Tomorrow.”
The veil of night loomed over the city as we made our way through the streets. Nina muttered in her native tongue, debating back and forth with herself. At the ship we stepped onto the lift platform. As it rose to the sound of clanking gears, she said, "Jac, this is going to be bad business, I can feel it."
Feeling weary, I nodded.
The crew sat haphazardly around the common room, eagerly awaiting the news. Tyler looked up from cleaning his pistols as we entered. "Well?"
"We have a job, mes amies, and they will be here tomorrow with half of the payment," I announced to the room.
Marie looked up from her card game with Henri, shaking her curly black hair out of her eyes with a smile. "That's great, Captain. So what do they want us to steal?"
"It seems we need to steal a hat. Specifically, the Pope's hat."
Marie looked at me, head cocked to one side, gauging to see if I was joking. "The Pope’s hat?"
"You heard me. Who wants to have a look?" I waved the rolled up drawings and spread them out on the big table. Nina rolled out the map beside the drawings.
"Now, any ideas? What do we know about the Vatican, Vatican City, the hat, or even Rome?" I asked. After everyone had a chance to look over the drawings, I grabbed a glass of wine and the cheese board, Marie grabbed the bread, and everyone found their drinks and gathered back around the table.
As we sat I outlined the information Franco provided and laid out the map of Vatican City and the rough sketch of the palace. “What else do we know?”
Tyler chimed in, "The Swiss Guard protects not only the Vatican, but the Pope himself, and reputedly the Vatican clockwork mechanics and research laboratories. It is said they have access to some of the best mechanical designs in the world."
Seamus nodded agreement. "I've met a few of them Swiss Guard fellas over the years. They’re a tiny group, not more than two hundred in total I wouldn't think, so they all know one another pretty well."
“So, what do we know about Vatican City?" Tyler asked.
Henri raised a hand. I nodded to him to speak up. "They open the city to pilgrims once a month and the cardi
nals and priests in residence give blessings. It is the fourth Sabbath of the month if I remember correctly."
Something tickled at the back of my mind. "I heard rumor several years ago," I said. "Tyler, you remember the job we did our last year with the English? Rescuing that nun that wasn't a nun?"
He nodded. "The tunnels. I remember hearing about those, but we never had to use them."
Seamus drummed his fingers on the table then rubbed the back of his neck and glanced up at me. "I canna say as how true this is, but I was in a tavern some years back, drinking with some mates, oh, perhaps twenty years ago now. We met a man at the tavern who spun us this wild yarn about the Vatican.”
"Well, let's hear it - at the very least it should be entertaining." I grabbed a chair and the rest of the crew settled in.
"Well, as I said, I don't know if his story was true, but as he told it, back when this old codger was young, he and his mates snuck into the tunnels. They were local kids, just exploring and the like, and one night they were playing in a friend’s cellar. They moved some crates and found this blocked up door. So, being curious, they pried the boards blocking the door loose and opened it. They found an entrance to the tunnels. He said it went for miles and miles, full of twists and turns. They got lost down there and came across all kinds of locked doors and barred gates, some what they could see into had great big clanks being built, but when they finally found an unlocked door, it dropped them out in an alley near Vatican square."
I ran my fingers through my hair. "If there are tunnels under the city, this might be easier than I thought. We’d just have to find an entrance. What else have we got?"
Tyler leaned across the table and ran his finger along the outline of Vatican City. "Supposedly the walls are twenty feet high and ten feet thick. I've also heard rumors about the tunnels, though I heard they were in the walls running the length, which would make sense for moving guardsmen around. Might be there are two different sets of tunnels."
“It's a starting point. Anyone know anything about the hat itself?" I asked. I saw blank stares all around.
Henri said tentatively, "The hat of St. Peter, founder of the church as we know it, worn by the Pope for religious ceremonies, miraculously preserved by the will of God… but that's about all I remember from catechism."
I nodded. "We've got a month. Let's do some research. Franco did not like our counter offer, but he did accept it, and quickly too. I would love to know how he received a reply within an hour."
The brainstorming session went long into the night, as the beginnings of a plan began to take shape. The hat, the tunnels, the Guard, all would require further research. In the early morning hours everyone sought their bunks for a few hours sleep. Gold would mean supplies, and repairs and payday, all of which we desperately needed.
The next morning, Franco arrived with two men carrying a chest. They sagged under the weight of it. The sun was just cresting the horizon. Nina, standing watch, tapped on the door to my quarters. "Captain! Franco is here."
Half dressed, with only a loose shirt and pants on, I swore. "Merde. Who shows up this early?" I shook my hair out and tucked my shirt in, then grabbed my vest and threw it on top.
"Have him use the lift," I said, grabbing my boots and stamping my feet down into them. I took a moment to pin my hair neatly and make sure all of my buttons were fastened before joining her on deck.
As Franco's head appeared at the hatch, I smiled. "Monsieur, welcome. Can I bid you join us to break your fast?"
"Captain, that is a generous offer; alas, I must needs be on my way.” His words were polite, but his tone was stiff and almost angry. “Here is the initial payment."
His men set the chest down with a thud and Franco unlocked the padlock and flipped back the lid. Sunlight glinted on gold. He frowned, avoiding my gaze.
“Pardon me for being presumptuous, but you seem unsettled this morning Franco. Is all well?” I studied his face, wondering what secrets he kept.
He scowled down at the chest, then lifted his eyes, forcing a smile. “Nothing to concern you, Captain. A minor disagreement with a colleague, no more.”
I nodded sympathetically. "As you wish, monsieur. I hope you are able to work out your differences. My thanks for the speedy payment. We will see you in one month."
"Ay, indeed Captain. One month. Do be careful," he said as he strode back down to the lift.
Once Franco and his men were off the airship lift, Tyler and Seamus carried the chest to my office. "Tyler, let everyone know I'll pay out back pay in a hour. A paid crew is a happy crew. In the meantime have everyone update the list of what they need for ship repairs. Seamus let me know what we need to re-supply, and find out if the doctor needs anything for the surgery."
"Aye, Jac," Seamus said, turning to leave with Tyler. "We'll let everyone know."
I sat at my desk and pulled out the giant ledger book. Two hours later, a more cheerful crew went off to do their respective duties while I went down to settle with the Airfield Master. By the late afternoon, all of the supplies were stowed and everyone was back on board.
Jacqueline
Prevailing winds were good, with clear skies and beautiful weather for our four-day voyage to Rome. Regardless of the pleasant sailing conditions we kept watch at all times. Air Pirates known as ‘Rovers’ frequented the higher shipping lanes and less travelled routes, preying on merchant vessels and smaller ships alike. Marie made some needed upgrades to the engine. The furnace that heated half the balloons was not producing enough hot air, and the balloons weren’t carrying their weight. By the second day she had the furnace blasting at full, and the controls handling the altitude had been taken apart, greased and re-assembled. Two days out of port we swapped out the flags on the ship for those of a Spanish cargo transport. Marie, with her engineering acumen, had devised an ingenious mechanism that would flip between three different name placards at the prow of the ship. The Indiana was known, but held a similar profile to many ships of her class. The sleek wooden hull hung suspended by steel cabling underneath the grand poche. A multitude of balloons strained under the overarching canopy structure, giving lift to the ship.
Airfield Masters avoided trouble whenever possible. They knew who we were, but with our non-descript profile they could safely record us as whatever name we were displaying. The Indiana was registered at three different ports of call with three different names and colors from three different countries. I just had to remember which names had committed crimes at which airfields. It wouldn't do to arrive in on a wanted ship. For this trip, the Sirena Bellissimo. We hadn't appeared in this guise for a while, and never in Italy.
By the time we reached the Rome airfield we were back in good condition, and the decks and railings gleamed. The rigging around the grand poche still needed some work, but Henri, with his deft hands, had expertly patched the torn and weathered fabric.
The Rome airfield was more modern than the one at Marseille. Each airship hovered inside a giant mechanical cradle. The cradle would hold the airship hull stable in case complete deflation of the balloons became necessary. There was no need for the anchoring procedures or crews the older airfields employed. Row upon row of ships berthed adjacent to each other was a sight to behold. Onboard ship, we were preparing for our first reconnaissance of the city.
"Nina, Tyler, see what you can find out at the taverns. Seamus and I will see if Henri’s information about the pilgrim’s day is correct," I said, snugging my hat down over my wild hair.
They both looked pleased at the idea of spending the day dicing and drinking. I had to admit, five days shipboard had me ready to climb the walls as well.
Vatican City at the heart of Rome was an hour's walk from the airfield. It gave us a chance to feel out Rome as we passed through the merchant’s district, and a few quieter residential neighborhoods. Thankfully the tannery was on the other side of the city, though every once in a while its acrid smell would waft our direction. We passed one building with smoke pouring fro
m the windows, and a smell that would singe the inside of your nose, but passers by looked unconcerned, hurrying past with watering eyes.
Entire blocks were being built along the outskirts of the city. Buildings appeared to be constantly under construction. We passed several cathedrals in various stages of completion, and watched a stonemason carving an angel’s face into a future pediment. I shook my head in amazement. I could almost swear the angel was weeping, it was so lifelike.
Streets teeming with the stink of humanity, unwashed bodies, and other fouler smells jostled us. The streets thronged with pilgrims wearing sackcloth and ashes. Many had palm fronds woven into crosses attached to wide brimmed hats protecting them from the sun. Equally conspicuous were the gentlemen in cover suits, loose canvas coats designed to protect nicer clothing, with their hair neatly trimmed or tied back, but with grease under their nails and smudges on their faces. On every corner hordes of beggars accosted the unwary.
By comparison the walls of Vatican City glowed. We approached one of the public gates, and marveled at the white marble walls rising twenty feet over our heads. The carved lifelike faces of statuary stared down at us with disapproval. A man in the traditional blue and gold uniform of the Swiss Guard answered various traveler’s questions in front of the closed gate. Two more stood at the top of the wall, alert for possible intrusions.
The unpolished marble walls looked too smooth to climb. Pulling my hat low over my head I approached the gate. "Excuse me sir, when is the next Pilgrim's day?"
He looked me over with a bored eye. "It's two Sunday's hence, on the fourth Sabbath of the month or, if you are in dire need of confession, you can beg the priests at the monastery outside the fourth gate. For an offering they will take confession from pilgrims." He pointed down the road to the east. “Another three miles or so that way.”
I bobbed my head politely. "Thank you, sir; you've been most kind."
Seamus and I turned to go, following the road along the wall to the east, in the direction the guard had pointed.
The First Sin Page 3