The Serpent's Disciple

by Deborah Stevens

  As he walked back through the Sistine Chapel, he thought if only the walls could talk, they could tell him what his predecessors had done when they confronted Satan.

  He stopped briefly in front of one of his favorite paintings in this section of the Vatican, The Last Judgment by Michelangelo. It was a massive work, approximately fifty feet by thirty feet and spanned the entire wall behind the altar of the Sistine Chapel.

  Standing there studying the great work, he reflected on the possibility of being witness to this final Biblical event during his lifetime. The painting centers around the dominant figure of Christ captured in the moment just before the verdict of the Last Judgment is uttered, as described in the Book of Matthew 25: 31–46.

  Next to Christ is the Virgin, who turns her head in a gesture of resignation, only to await the result of the Judgment. The Saints and the Elect also anxiously await the verdict. The lower half of the painting shows the angels and devils fight over making the damned fall down to hell.

  Satan had won many souls over the years but he would never win the final battle against God.

  He had been so deep in thought; he realized he was standing in front of the door to his office. Entering he walked over to where Robert sat and told him to put a call in to the commander and leave a message to expect a call from him shortly. Then he headed to his private office.

  Upon entering he stopped and listened for the familiar ticking of his father’s clock in the background. It gave him solace knowing his father was watching over him. Then he looked at his desk across the room and imagined Mary Ellen sitting there during their meeting the other day and remembering when he discovered that she had received the same mysterious card with the cobra head engraving on it. Everything changed that day; he didn’t realize to what extent until this day.

  The box and all the papers were still on his desk. Sitting down he opened a drawer and retrieved a legal pad of paper to take notes on, but first he needed to make two calls. Pulling up the contact list on his phone, he punched in the number for Ms. O’Farrell.

  It showed “connecting,” then “call ended.” When he tried again the same thing happened. Again he tried and again it showed “call ended.” He could feel the muscles in his shoulders tighten.

  “No, don’t even think it,” he told himself.

  Trying a fourth time it finally connected. “Thank you, Dear Lord,” he said as he looked up towards heaven. It rang only once and went directly into voice mail. In a calm and relaxed voice he said, “Mary Ellen, this is Cardinal McKenna, unfortunately I need to reschedule our appointment. Please call me back at the number you have for me at your convenience.”

  The number he had given her belonged to a disposable phone; that way their conversations couldn’t be traced.

  Next he made the call to Commander Crevelli. On the third ring, he was prepared to leave a message when a voice on the other end answered, “Hello, Commander Crevelli here.”

  “Commander, it’s Cardinal McKenna. I hope you received the message from my assistant Robert. I’m sorry but I need to change the time of our meeting. I was hoping to be able to stop by this afternoon instead.”

  “Yes, Cardinal McKenna I did receive the message from Robert; this afternoon would be fine. Shall we say two-thirty here at my office?”

  The tension in McKenna’s shoulders began to ease. He was thankful Crevelli had played along.

  “Yes, thank you again, Commander Crevelli. I will see you at two-thirty this afternoon.”

  Finishing the call, he looked at the disposable cell phone sitting on his desk; he mentally commanded it to ring but it just laid there silent. Where are you, Mary Ellen?

  He had a few hours before his meeting with the commander, and he needed to read through all the documents in front of him. As he reached to turn on the desk lamp, his eyes fell upon a letter he had been writing to a friend who was struggling with a personal problem. It was open to the second page of his response. On it he had quoted a line from the Scriptures, “Put your trust in the Lord and He will be your guiding light.”

  It was strange that he stumbled upon that at this moment. It brought back memories of when he turned seven. After making his first communion, sometimes at home, he would set up a table with his parents silver wine glasses. Using a Ritz cracker for the host, he would make his mother sit and watch as he pretended to serve communion. Since that early age, he trusted that God would show him the path he was meant to take and it was no different now.

  Pulling his reading glasses off from the top of his head and placing them on the bridge of his nose, he looked at the papers spread across his desk. He needed to connect the dots and figure out who among them could be the false prophet.

  He decided to look more closely into the relationship between Vingenzo Parocchi, the director-general of the Banca Nazionale del Lavoro and a shareholder in the Vatican Bank, and Cardinal Cavallari, the Secretary of State for the Vatican. Next, look deeper into the most recent activities of the Union Bank of Switzerland, then try and figure out what the connection was to Father Maciel and the LC. Maybe by following the money trail he would find his answer.

  For the next hour he read through all the information, pulling out anything that might confirm his suspicions. Now sitting in front of him was a small stack of documents. The rest of the documents were in the box, which now sat on the floor next to his chair.

  “Okay, let’s see what we have here.”

  He began arranging the documents in some kind of order the first being the card with the cobra head laying on top of the envelope it came in. Then next to that he placed the ill-fated file from Father Roberto, with some additional documents he’d pulled out. To the right of that, the copy of Mary Ellen’s file she received from the priest, again with some additional information he thought relevant. The next small group of papers was the list of the money transactions and photos taken in Switzerland with the ledgers from the LC and Banca Nazionale. Last, the notes from his visits to the Vatican Library on Propaganda Due aka P2.

  On the top sheet of a memo pad he wrote, meeting with Pope, on another meeting with Crevelli and stuck them in the appropriate locations of the timetable he had laid out on his desk. Then beneath all of it, on a third piece of paper, he wrote the words prophecy of Saint Anthony.

  He wanted to provide as clear a picture as possible to the commander, showing him how he believed his findings and the sequence of events taking place seemed to be pointing to the possible return of an Antichrist and of a Chosen One spoken of in the prophecy of Saint Anthony.

  Crevelli needed to realize this could be the battle God spoke of in the end times. It was written in the Book of Revelation 1: 3, “Blessed is the one who reads the words of this prophecy, and blessed are those who hear it and take to heart what is written in it, because the time is near.”

  Satan was building his army for battle. When and where was the question and would they be too late? It all seemed to rest on finding a book. A book with words God told to a young monk centuries ago. The prophecy speaks of the Chosen One who would have the key to unlocking it.

  The cardinal remembered Mary Ellen telling him how her friend was named after Saint Anthony. Could there be a connection, he wondered?

  CHAPTER 76

  The light from the torch made all the difference in the world. They were making up for lost time.

  “Father, do you know if it’s much farther?” asked Mary Ellen. The only thing keeping her from losing it was thinking about having a cigarette when they got out.

  “We’re almost there,” said Father Cossa. “I can see where the tunnel gets wider up ahead. If I’m right, the exit should be somewhere around there.”

  “Father,” said Anthony from the back, “when you see it let me go first. I don’t know what or who might be waiting for us.”

  Above ground Judah and Mattithyahu were at a loss, their GPS’ showed they should be within a few feet of Anthony and Nelli, but they were nowhere to be seen. Judah’s wound had stopped
bleeding for the time being, but he knew he would have to get medical treatment. He was thankful there weren’t more men in black hoods chasing them. He’d lost more blood than he would have liked and was feeling a little shaky.

  “I don’t see them,” said Mattithyahu. “They should be right around here. We’re practically on top of them.”

  Frantically surveying the surrounding area, they both looked at each other confused on what to do next.

  “Look they’re moving again.”

  “No, they’ve stopped,” said Judah. “Unless they’ve suddenly become invisible we should be looking right at them.”

  They felt fairly certain they had not been followed but they decided to take cover behind some trees. The area was heavily wooded, which would give them some protection but would also give cover to their enemy.

  As they were running, Judah’s arm caught on a broken branch and he could feel something warm soaking through the shirt used to wrap his shoulder.

  Once hidden behind the trees, Mattithyahu shook his GPS to see if it would get the signals moving.

  “I don’t get it, if this isn’t broken where the hell they are?”

  “Well I’m getting the same reading,” said Judah, “so it must be working. They could be hurt and lying on the ground and we just can’t see them. Look for anything unusual or something they could be barricaded behind or hiding inside of.”

  “The only thing around is that old crumbled down well over there to the left,” whispered Mattithyahu. “There’s not much else around here. Do you think whoever those guys were back there know about our tracking system and jammed the satellite frequencies we’re using?”

  Anthony could see on his GPS that the two Guardians above ground were no longer on the move. They were either trying to figure out why they couldn’t get a visual on him and Nelli or, God forbid, they’d been killed.

  “Anthony,” whispered Nelli, “we have to bring Father Cossa with us. I don’t think he would be safe if he went back to his church now.”

  “I know Nelli, I’ve already considered that.”

  “I see steps,” shouted Father Cossa.

  “Father, stay there, I’m coming up front.”

  Anthony had no idea what could be waiting for them when they escaped from the tunnel and he had the only gun. Squeezing past Nelli and Mary Ellen, he said, “You’re doing great, I will get all of us out of here.”

  Standing next to Father Cossa now, he looked to see what the priest had found. There in front of them was a spiral staircase that disappeared inside a small shaft of some kind.

  “What is this?” asked Anthony.

  “From the surface it should appear to be an old well,” said the priest, “but in reality it’s the exit out of the tunnel. Ingenious don’t you think, but I worry what condition the stairs are in.”

  “What’s up there once we climb out?” asked Anthony, already inspecting the stairs.

  “There’s a small clearing around the well. On one side will be the west wall of the castle. On the other side you will be surrounded by woods,” explained the priest.

  “Well, we have two choices,” said Anthony. “One, we can take our chances and go back, or, two, pray these stairs were built to pass the test of time. I opt for the second. When I get to the top wait ’til I give a signal to begin climbing up, but if you hear gunshots take Nelli and Mary Ellen and work your way back to the chapel. Wait there and someone will come and take you to safety.”

  “But how will they know where we are?” asked Father Cossa.

  “They will. You must trust me on this Father.”

  “All right, my son, I will also ask Saint Anthony to watch over you.”

  “You do that, Father. I will take all the help I can get.”

  “Be careful, Anthony. We haven’t been brought you this far to fail now.”

  Anthony tested the first step. It gave a little under his weight but seemed stable. The three others watched as he slowly made his way up the spiral stairs and disappeared.

  Up above Mattithyahu whispered to Judah, “How’s your shoulder?”

  “Well, it would feel a lot better if I didn’t have a bullet in it,” looking at Mattithyahu as if to say, you’re kidding right!

  “Just thought I’d ask!”

  The signal for Anthony began pulsating telling them he was operational, but it wasn’t tracking movement.

  “What do you make of that?” Mattithyahu, pointed to his GPS. “There are only two directions he can go … unless …” all at once it hit both of them, “The well! Cover me.”

  Taking one last look around, Mattithyahu made a run for it. Reaching the well he dropped to the ground leaning up against what was left of its crumbling stone wall.

  “Judah,” speaking into his headpiece Mattithyahu asked, “Is it clear?”

  “Clear,” replied Judah.

  Anthony methodically made his way up the ancient stairwell. A few of the wooden trestles in the structure were badly deteriorated. Grabbing onto roots of trees that had snaked their way through the hard earth, he tried to lessen the weight he placed on each step. One side of each winder was anchored into the wall of the shaft but the outside edge, towards the center of the staircase, was completely open. One mistake and it would be all over for him. Then he saw them just a few feet ahead, two steps were almost completely rotted away. It was too dangerous to try and jump to the step above them. If he missed, the fall could kill him.

  The only other way out would be back through the tunnel. He wasn’t sure if that was even an option anymore. After they had all made their way out of the burial chamber where they found the scroll, he heard a strange rumbling sound and felt a small vibration. He suspected another section of wall had collapsed.

  “Think, Anthony!” He scanned the wooden supports and looked at the crumbling stone wall and then had an idea. If he only had a rope he could rig up a version of top roping used in rock climbing. Using one of the wooden beams up ahead to anchor off of, he would then use the stones in the wall of the shaft and climb up to the next step, but he needed a rope.

  His mind flashed back to all those summers with his father and the other eleven boys and how they were trained to use the resources one had at hand. In almost all cases nature could provide whatever one needed. So what could he use for a rope? The tree roots, the ones he had been using for support, they were all around him, but he would need something to cut them with. Praying it hadn’t fallen out, he reached into the pocket of his cargo pants, and his fingers felt the rounded corners of the Swiss Army knife Nelli had given him. The knife was small, but it would do the job.

  Spotting what he was looking for, he carefully descended back down the last two steps. Protruding out from the wall was a mass of long sinewy tree roots. It took some doing, but it worked.

  He was almost to the top of the stairwell shaft when the steps ended. There was still about twelve feet to go. It didn’t make sense, this was an escape route. Maybe the rest of it had rotted away over time, but it appeared to him the steps were supposed to end here.

  “Now what?”

  Looking around, that’s when he saw them. Steps had been cut into the stone to climb the rest of the way up. Of course, from above it had to give the appearance of a well.

  As he placed his foot onto the first ledge he thought he heard someone talking. Pulling out his gun, he continued slowly climbing with the gun in one hand pointed at the opening.

  “Anthony?” called out Mattithyahu.

  “Is that you Anthony?” he said a little louder this time.

  “Mattithyahu?” whispered Anthony.

  “Yes, thank God. We found you.”

  Is Judah with you?” asked Anthony. Afraid of what the answer would be.

  “A couple hundred yards off to our west, ready to do some target shooting if necessary. He’s got a nasty hole in his shoulder that will have to be looked at by a doctor. Still, could fight off a grizzly bear though.”

  “Is it safe for me to come out?�
� Anthony asked.

  “Best I can tell, yes.”

  Grabbing the edge of the well Anthony flipped himself over and almost landed on top of Mattithyahu.

  “I’m not even going to ask how you got here,” said Mattithyahu. “Is Nelli with you?”

  “Yes, once I give them the signal it’s safe to climb up, but we’ll need to rig up some kind of pulley to help get them all out. There’s a section where the steps are completely gone. Give me your flashlight, and I’ll signal to start climbing up. You look for something we can secure a cable to.”

  “Them?” repeated Mattithyahu.

  “Nelli, Mary Ellen, and a Father Cossa,” answered Anthony.

  “Was the other priest …. ” Mattithyahu didn’t have the chance to finish the sentence. Anthony finished it for him.

  “Yes, he was a good friend of Father Cossa’s,” said Anthony as he signaled with the flashlight to the others below.

  As they lowered the makeshift hoist down the well, Mattithyahu said, “You should know Anthony that Cephas has been trying to contact you. We followed the two men who tried to kill you and they were seen going into a building rumored to be owned by members of the local Masonic Lodge. We were able to get inside without being seen and found them talking to a third man. He was extremely angry with them and was yelling that the Grand Master would not be happy they had failed.” Anthony stopped what he was doing. “What did you just say?”

  CHAPTER 77

  “Do you see anything?” said Mary Ellen.

  “No,” answered Nelli, wondering if something had gone wrong.

  “Wait, do you see that?” said Father Cossa. “There … that small beam of light swaying back and forth. It must be the signal.”

  The cell phone he’d been using for a flashlight rang. Anthony explained the conditions of the stairs and what they needed to do when they climbed up. Father Cossa repeated the information to Nelli and Mary Ellen.

  “Okay Nelli you go first, and then Mary Ellen you follow right behind. I’ll go last and remember, go slow and don’t look down.”