The Serpent's Disciple
Page 19
The second set of eyes belonged to the Guardian Y’hochanan, Hebrew for John, one of the twelve Guardians. He watched as Anthony and Nelli’s car pulled up. Mary Ellen saw them and started walking towards the car.
Simultaneously Y’Hochanan noticed a young man moving in on Mary Ellen, grabbing a scarf off a chair, he started running, “Signorina! Signorina! Scusi.”
The other man stopped as Mary Ellen turned around to see who was yelling at her.
“You dropped your scarf, signorina.” Mary Ellen looked at the scarf, then back at Y’hochanan and smiled.
“Grazie signore, but this doesn’t belong to me. Someone else must have dropped it.”
Anthony watched what was happening. He jumped out of the car and came around to the other side. “Is there a problem here?” He took a mental picture of the faces of all the people near them.
“No, this man thought I dropped a scarf, but I just told him it didn’t belong to me.”
Anthony thanked Y’hochanan, not letting on he knew him. Turning to Mary Ellen he said, “We should get going or we could get a ticket. Give me your suitcase.” He opened the door for Mary Ellen to get in, then grabbed her suitcase and put it in the trunk.
Y’hochanan immediately starting searching the area for the young man but he was gone. He needed to call Cephas and report what just happened and get instructions.
“Good to see you, Mary Ellen. What was that all about?” asked Nelli.
“Oh, that man thought I dropped my scarf. I wish it was mine, it was beautiful.”
The airport was extremely busy. Anthony was trying to find an opening between the cars to pull out. He wanted to get away from the airport as quickly as possible. Y’hochanan must have spotted something suspicious and Anthony needed to find out what it was that had frightened him.
“Thank you again for inviting me for the weekend,” said Mary Ellen from the backseat as she buckled her seat belt in. “It will be nice to see where your father was born. I know very little about this part of Italy.”
Anthony found an opening and sped away, getting as much distance between him and the airport as possible. Then he checked the rearview mirror to see if anyone was following them.
“Sorry, Mary Ellen, I just wanted to get out of that traffic jam. Did you have any problems with your flight?”
“No, everything went smoothly. What do you two have planned for this afternoon, if you don’t mind me asking?
“We thought we could stop at Gradara. It is halfway between the airport and Pesaro.”
“Isn’t that where the fortress of Gradara is located?” asked Mary Ellen. “I’ve heard people talk about it and I’ve seen pictures. I would love to see it. If I remember correctly Dante writes about the tragic story of the two lovers that took place there in his book, Dante’s Inferno.”
“Mary Ellen,” Anthony said, “has anything else happened since we saw you last?” He looked in the rearview mirror to watch her reaction to his question.
Hesitating Mary Ellen looked down at her hands adjusting the watch on her wrist. Looking up she said, “No, nothing.”
Then he saw it. Most people would never even notice. It was very subtle but when Mary Ellen was scared or telling a lie, her cheek would twitch ever so slightly.
“I’m glad to hear that,” but Anthony knew she was lying.
CHAPTER 64
Thomas was on the phone talking with the bank in Switzerland as he stood on the balcony overlooking hills that formed a patchwork made up of vineyards, cultivated fields, and valleys as far as the eye could see.
“The five recipients we have set up accounts for have received their access numbers,” he said. “The bank should see activity on them if they haven’t already. Please inform me when the last one has been activated.”
He could see a storm was moving in.
“Yes of course,” said an elegantly spoken gentleman on the other end. “How would you like us to contact you on this matter?”
“Please send me a text message on the private cell phone number you have for me,” said Thomas.
“We will contact you as soon as we get information,” replied the banker. “Will there be anything else we can assist you with today?”
“No, that is all.” Thomas ended the call.
It’s finally begun, he thought. As he went down the checklist he made, his thoughts turned to the call he received late last night from Cardinal Cavallari. The cardinal relayed in detail his meeting with Cardinal McKenna and was troubled that McKenna was spending so much time in the Vatican Archives. The cardinal was also concerned with a growing relationship between Cardinal McKenna and this O’Farrell woman.
Thomas had expected the warning he had sent to Cardinal McKenna and Ms. O’Farrell would frighten them enough that they would stop asking questions, especially after the news of Father Roberto’s death. Anyway, it was too late now for them to stop what was about to take place. In a few days their feeble attempts to gather information wouldn’t matter anymore, that and if they would even be alive.
Thomas decided to contact Catherine the Worthy Matron from the Grand Lodge Droit Humain and requested that she find someone trustworthy to follow Ms. O’Farrell. At this point it was only a minor concern but he couldn’t leave any stone unturned. Ms. O’Farrell was in Pesaro, not in Vatican City. She was with friends not conspiring with Cardinal McKenna. What trouble could she cause? Still it was better to cover all his bases.
His private cell phone buzzed alerting him to an incoming message. It was from the bank in Switzerland: We have just received the request to activate the last of the five accounts. We are sending text message per your instructions.
Thomas checked one more item off his list. He knew by the end of today each of the five men would be given their final orders. Wait for Peter Romanus to be named Pope, after which General D’Amoto’s men would immediately take control of all governments around the world.
The Grand Master would take the name Peter II, fulfilling the prophecy of Saint Malachy where he refers to a Petrus Romanus (Peter the Roman) as the last of the Popes, whose pontificate will end in the destruction of the city of Rome.
After being able to check off two more items on his list, it was time for Thomas to call in and report to the Grand Master.
CHAPTER 65
In a secret location outside Pesaro, Peter was at the P2 compound in the Apennines where Thomas would join him later. The estate in Arezzo was too accessible for this stage of the operation. A war room had been set up on the second floor of the compound’s main house.
Walking out onto the balcony, he lit a cigarette and waited for Thomas’s call. In the distance he could see the outline of the old abbey and cemetery built centuries ago. He had heard that a recluse order of religious monks still occupied the abbey. He felt like a king surveying his kingdom. How many times has he stood here looking out at the rolling hills and mountains of the Apennines and thought about this moment?
It had been much easier than the last time, Peter thought to himself. The Vatican was alarmed at the number of people leaving the Church. The cover-up of the sexual scandals had been their biggest mistake. All Peter did was leak information out through the news media, and Catholics around the world became outraged and lost faith in their religious leaders.
Then there were the jihadists and their hatred of Christianity. Funding various terrorist groups around the world had put their leaders under his control. Religious battles weren’t new but the world was much smaller now and the push of a button could annihilate a whole civilization in a matter of minutes. He was the Puppet Master. He controlled the strings and he had everyone exactly where he wanted them.
His mind shifted to more pleasant thoughts. He could almost feel the triregnum being placed on his head. Pope John Paul I had dispensed with the 1,000-year-old tradition of a papal coronation and the wearing of a papal tiara. Peter intended on resurrecting the ceremony in retaliation for the dead Pope’s role in almost destroying his organization.r />
Next he pictured himself standing in the Crying Room being dressed for his first audience as Pope Peter II. Then he visualized stepping out onto the balcony that overlooked St. Peter’s Square to the mass of souls waiting for the new Pope’s blessing.
The phone rang, interrupting his thoughts. It was Thomas, right on schedule.
“Thomas, punctual as I demand, is everything in order on your end?”
Thomas wondered if he should waste the Grand Master’s time with the McKenna and O’Farrell problem; he decided against it. The Naj Hannah expected him to handle the small matters.
“Yes, the last account was activated. I am waiting to receive calls from each of the five that they have completed their task. Then they will wait for your call.”
“We are very close now,” said Peter. “I do not intend to fail this time. Victory will be mine.”
His tone sent a chill through Thomas.
“Call me when you are on your way,” said Peter.
The call was over and Thomas wondered if he had made the right decision by not telling the Grand Master.
Peter took another drag off his cigarette and slowly blew the smoke into the air as he went through the final details in his head. Details even Thomas knew nothing about. The orders had already been given to his personal bodyguards or death squad. As he put out the cigarette with his right hand, he could feel the tattoo beneath his ring come alive.
CHAPTER 66
Anthony listened as Mary Ellen and Nelli talked but his attention was focused on watching the road to see if there were any cars following them a little too closely.
There was a letup in the conversation so Nelli checked the map to see how much farther they had to go before they would reach the castle.
“We should start to see signs for the fortress Gradara fairly soon,” said Nelli. “After we get inside, should we stop and have a light lunch before we start exploring the castle?”
Stopping for lunch wouldn’t be a bad idea, thought Anthony. He could make some calls and find out what Y’hochanan saw at the airport.
“That’s a good idea. Does that sound all right with you, Mary Ellen?” Anthony looked in the rearview mirror to see Mary Ellen’s response.
“That’s fine with me. I could do with a little something to eat.”
Nelli glanced over at Anthony, “We can study the map of the fortress while we are eating.”
Anthony gave Nelli an understanding nod. They needed to see the chapel to determine if it still existed.
Nelli turned again to talk with Mary Ellen. “We thought it would be nice to explore the castle first if you don’t mind.”
“I’m open to anything, I’m just happy to be on holiday. I live here now remember. You have to head back home next week so your time is more limited. You must have a list of things you want to see and do before you have to leave.”
As Nelli was listening she felt the temperature in the car drop dramatically and she crossed her arms to keep warm. All of a sudden she felt this impending threat as if something evil was in the car with them but just as quickly as the temperature dropped, it rose back to where it was a minute ago and the feeling was gone. Whatever it was, it was unholy and she did not want to experience it again.
Repeating the question Mary Ellen asked, “Have you made a list of things you want to see before you go back home? Whatever you would like to do is fine with me.”
Nelli realized she had not responded to Mary Ellen’s question.
“I’m sorry, Mary Ellen, I was thinking about something. Yes, there are a few things Anthony and I would like to see before we leave.”
Nelli saw that they were approaching a mileage sign. “Look Anthony,” Nelli said as she pointed out the window, “Gradara one kilometer, exit on Strada Ferrata. Remember we drove by this yesterday.”
The road wound through hills covered with acres of olive tree groves with row after row of neatly tied vines where grapes hung heavy waiting to be picked. As they rounded the next hill they caught their first view of the fortress in the distance.
“Look, there it is,” said Mary Ellen. “It’s larger then I imagined and that structure at the top must be the castle.”
Nelli read from the travel guide, “Casement walls hold twenty-four towers outlining the city that encompasses the entire top half of the mountain. One side overlooks the Adriatic while the other overlooks a valley and the River Tavollo. At 142 meters above sea level the panoramic view is spectacular.”
Could the box really be up there, thought Nelli, as she stared at Gradara Castle? Could something written so long ago still exist, just waiting for her to find it?
Anthony was also wondering if the young monk Fernando Martins de Bulfoes did hide a box somewhere inside the castle, where would he have hidden it?
Mary Ellen watched silently as they approached the walled city. She thought about her most recent conversations with Cardinal McKenna. He now believed there was the possibility of a conspiracy to bring down the Church. She wanted to tell Anthony and Nelli, but would they believe her? She had lost him once because of her desire to prove her brother’s innocence; she didn’t want to lose his friendship this time around. The lies against her brother might only be the tip of an iceberg. What lay beneath the surface could be apocalyptic. They could be looking at what many already believe could be the beginning of the end-times.
They got lucky and found a parking spot not far from the entrance to the medieval village. They entered through the Porta dell’Orologio, the clock door, the only opening into the fortress. Beyond the door was a series of steep steps carrying them up a street that was bordered by buildings and side streets. As they climbed the steps their eyes were directed to the tower or “keep” in the distance, which was also the highest point of the fortress.
Anthony studied the map, looking for a place they could stop to get something to eat. It wasn’t as crowded with people as he expected for a Friday. It would make it easier for him to observe if anyone was following them. As they walked Mary Ellen asked about the box Nelli had purchased in Rome. Had she found out any more surrounding the story the shopkeeper had relayed about its history?
As Anthony listened, Nelli told Mary Ellen that they realized the monk the shopkeeper spoke of was actually their namesake before he received sainthood. He observed a sudden change in Mary Ellen’s demeanor. She thought no one would notice her surprise at what she had just learned. No one else would have except for Anthony, who knew her too well.
Mary Ellen sensed Anthony was looking at her as she nervously glanced at him and then realized what he was staring at. Raising her hand, she covered her cheek. She knew he had noticed the almost undetectable muscle spasm that occurred whenever she was nervous or scared. Besides members of her family, Anthony was the only other person who ever noticed the twitch. He had always teased her about it.
“Coincidence isn’t it?” said Anthony, not taking his eyes off Mary Ellen.
She knew Anthony was suspicious that she was covering up something. Should she forget about what they might think of her and tell them what she had discovered and about her conversation with Cardinal McKenna? Removing her hand from her face she stopped and turned to face Anthony.
“I don’t know if I believe in coincidence anymore,” she said crossing her arms. She waited for Anthony to respond but he didn’t utter a word.
She stuck her hands into her pockets. She’d forgotten how well he knew her. “I believe God has given each of us a special calling in life. If we choose to listen to that inner voice, He will be a guiding hand along the way and lead us to what we seek.”
Anthony nodded. Could Mary Ellen know about Nelli and about what they were looking for? Could she be working against them? His mind was exploding with possible scenarios but he became distracted by a family up ahead. Two young children were crying because they didn’t want to leave yet. The parents were trying to calm them down.
As Anthony scanned the crowd and took a mental photograph of all the peo
ple, one in particular caught his attention. He was average in height, had dark hair, and was a physically fit man. He seemed unusually distracted. You could see he was agitated by the commotion and was trying to make his way around the family.
He now headed directly towards Anthony, at the same time reaching inside his jacket to grab something from an inside pocket. Anthony was trying to anticipate his next move.
A few yards apart they locked eyes. The man found what he was looking for. He nodded to Anthony as he pulled his hand from beneath his jacket. Anthony’s eyes darted to the man’s hand.
In it he held a white linen handkerchief with a red border. He wiped his forehead and his neck, and then replaced the handkerchief back into his breast pocket. The Guardian was giving a warning signal to be on the alert. Anthony had no idea what the danger might be, but things had just changed. He needed to confront Mary Ellen and see what she knew and the sooner the better. Lunch would have to wait.
Studying the map he looked for a place where they could talk—away from prying eyes and ears. Not far ahead, if he was correct, the medieval church of Saint Giovanni Battista would be on the right. It was a good place to seek some privacy. Hopefully it wouldn’t be very crowded.
“If it’s all right with both of you, before we stop and get something to eat, I’d like to stop and see a wooden crucifix, by an unknown sculptor that hangs above the altar in the church just ahead,” said Anthony. “It is said that Christ’s face, bowing on the right shoulder, shows three expressions according to the side you view it from. From the right he looks to be suffering. From the center, in death throes, and from the left, dead. The church should be up there just on the right.”
Nelli was surprised by Anthony’s request but saw how her brother’s demeanor had changed. Something must have happened. She needed to trust he had a good reason, so played along.
“That’s fine with me, Anthony.”
“Mary Ellen, do you have your Vatican I.D. on you?” asked Anthony.