By the time he arrived back at the police station his men had the information he requested. Pulling out a map, he began setting up roadblocks. Once that was done, he decided that he would make his call. He knew the general would not be happy that he did not have the Americans in custody, but when he told him of the steps he was taking perhaps D’Amoto would be appeased for the moment.
Placing the receiver back in its base the captain sat back in his chair. Perspiration stained his shirt collar as he ran his finger along the inside to separate it from his neck. D’Amoto had given him until five o’clock to locate the Americans.
He’d heard rumors of what happens to those who disappointed the general. He didn’t want to find out for himself if the reports were true. There was a knock at the door.
“Captain, the chopper spotted the car. It was headed to Rome like the caretaker thought.”
“Have you seized the car and are the occupants under arrest?”
“Yes and no, captain.”
“Either we do or we don’t, which is it?” he snapped.
“The car has been secured and we do have the one occupant under arrest.”
“What do you mean the one occupant?”
“There was only the driver and he’s not American. He’s a resident of Pesaro, sir.”
“Who are these Americans?” shouted the captain. “They must have thought they’d be followed and set up the decoy.”
He’d done what General D’Amoto had asked of him. The general couldn’t hold him responsible for the ruse by the Americans.
“What did you find out from the driver?”
“His friend who owns a truck rental company had a man stop in to rent a truck and asked if they knew of anyone who might want to earn some money driving a car back to Rome. The owner said a friend of his could use the extra cash and contacted him.”
“I assume you’ve talked to the owner?”
“He didn’t know much more. The man was an Americano. He was looking for a truck to haul some small items. The owner of the truck rental told the American he had nothing available on such short notice. The customer was persistent. He had seen a truck in the parking lot for a company that processes olive oil and asked if that was available to rent. It would do just fine for what he needed. He would pay well to rent it. The owner was letting his brother-in-law park the truck there for the week. He decided if the man was willing to pay a lot, why not. His brother-in-law would be happy with the extra money.”
“Get the license number of that truck and find it,” screamed the captain.
CHAPTER 85
They had been driving north on A13 for more than an hour. The rental car Anthony paid a young man to drive to Rome was headed in the opposite direction if they were followed. He hoped the story that they were taking the scenic drive back to Rome would work.
Andrew and Anthony sat up front in the delivery truck while Nelli, Mary Ellen, and Father Cossa rode in the back on a makeshift bench. On the outside of the truck, bold lettering read: Agricola e Biofattoria Aleandri - Single Estate Organic Olive Oil. In Italy the highways were littered with trucks from small family owned vineyards delivering their products to restaurants and stores. No one would give it a second look as they passed the truck.
Mattithyahu and Judah, who refused to remain in Pesaro, followed behind in a car. Anthony was on the phone with Cephas who informed him that they now believed the person in the mail room was Cardinal Cavallari.
The missing pieces began to fall into place. Cardinal McKenna believed Cavallari was a member of P2. Anthony updated Cephas on their plans and arranged for the Guardians to meet them in Padua.
Mary Ellen’s phone rang. The small window in the panel separating the front cab of the truck to the back was open. Looking at Anthony, Mary Ellen said, “I don’t recognize the number. It’s not the one Cardinal McKenna told me to call him at. Should I answer it?”
Anthony nodded yes.
Putting the phone up to her ear, Mary Ellen hesitated, “Hello?”
“Mary Ellen, its Cardinal McKenna. Can you talk freely?”
“Yes, but where are you calling from? It’s not the number you gave me.”
“I’m in a secure location.”
“Secure location? What’s happened?” Everyone listened intently to the conversation.
“There was an attempt on my life but of course you can hear they failed,” said McKenna.
“Who? When?” Mary Ellen asked.
“The who I think you probably can figure out, the rest is not important right now. My meeting with Commander Crevelli was very eye-opening and disturbing. The commander and I will be working together from this point on, but Mary Ellen I must have you tell me everything you’ve learned. The future of the Church and possibly all of mankind could depend on it.”
Mary Ellen covered the phone, “Someone tried to kill the cardinal. He’s working with the head of the Swiss Guard. He wants me to tell him everything I know.” Mary Ellen looked at Anthony, then Nelli, waiting to see what they wanted her to do.
“Mary Ellen, are you still there?” asked Cardinal McKenna.
“Yes, cardinal, one moment please.”
Nelli calmly turned to Mary Ellen, “You need to tell him everything.”
Mary Ellen glanced over at Anthony to get a second okay. He nodded his approval. She put the phone back up to her ear.
“Cardinal McKenna, what is it that you want to know?” she asked.
Cardinal McKenna hesitated, taking a deep breath, “You mentioned to me that your friends, the brother and sister, were each named after the beloved Saint Anthony. You call the woman Nelli but you use the name Anthony for the man.” Pausing, he said, “Is Anthony the Chosen One spoken of in the prophecy of Saint Anthony?”
Mary Ellen expected the question, but even with the seriousness of the situation she smiled. “No, Cardinal McKenna, Anthony is not the one. Thomas is his given name. Anthony is his middle name.”
Everyone knew what the cardinal must have asked Mary Ellen. They could almost see the disappointment on his face, believing all was lost.
“Cardinal McKenna, I believe Nelli might be of some benefit.”
The cardinal didn’t understand, “Does she know who it might be?” he asked.
Ignoring his question, Mary Ellen said, “Cardinal McKenna, a name can often have two different spellings.”
He didn’t hear a thing Mary Ellen said after that.
“Nelli … Nelli could be a nickname. What was the female name in Italian for Anthony?” He remembered Antonella!
From the silence on the other end, Mary Ellen knew he had figured it out.
“Is she with you now?” Cardinal McKenna asked with reverence. “Does she have the book?”
“Yes, but no, we do not have the book. We are headed to where we believe it is hidden.”
Mary Ellen filled Cardinal McKenna in on everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. McKenna took notes. He wanted to be sure he didn’t leave anything out when he relayed the information to the commander. Within a short time he knew everything.
“Mary Ellen, please inform your friends that Pope Benedict has been moved to a secret location, although it is made to appear that he is in residence at the Apostolic Palace. But from what you have told me, we could be running out of time. It looks as if the future of the Church rests upon the shoulders of the Chosen One. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“There is one thing, Cardinal McKenna. In the Scriptures, it is written that the Ark of the Covenant holds the Tablets of Stone on which the Ten Commandments were inscribed but are there any other ways the term has been referenced in the Bible?”
“I will do some research and get back to you,” replied Cardinal McKenna. “How long before you reach Padua?”
“Anthony estimates we should be there in less than thirty minutes.”
“I am going to ask the commander to send one of the Vatican’s private jets to the closest airstrip near there. It will be
waiting to bring the Chosen One and the book back to Rome. Additional security will be sent as soon as I inform Commander Crevelli of your location. I’ll text you with the directions to the airstrip and call as soon as I find out any other reference used for the Ark of the Covenant. Godspeed.”
CHAPTER 86
PADUA
Citta di oldest in Italy Settentrionale
1.6 km
Exit VIA BATTAGLIA
Inside the truck the sense of anticipation about finding the book was palpable.
“There it is—the exit for Padua.” said Andrew. “Watch for a sign that shows which way to Prato della Valle Square. We can park the truck down one of the side streets, and then walk from there. A portion of the city’s center is closed to traffic except for pedestrians. That way we can blend in and be less conspicuous. Keep your eyes open for an empty parking spot.”
“We can’t keep driving around,” said Anthony, “we’re wasting time.”
“Let’s go down a couple more streets and see if we don’t find something, or we’ll have to come up with another plan,” Andrew replied.
On the next corner there was a small outdoor cafe with people seated at tables, most likely tourists visiting Padua for the day. Andrew turned right on a side street.
“Slow down, back up, there, behind the restaurant,” Anthony pointed.
“It’s fenced off To’mas,” said Andrew, “the sign says: Deliveries Only - Violators will be Towed.”
“I know. Pull over and get out. Wait there with the others. I will park the truck and pretend to be making a delivery. I’ll leave a note on the window saying I will be back after getting something to eat. No one will question it being parked there with the company signage on the side.”
Mattithyahu and Judah were following close behind. They saw Andrew get out with the others and stopped to find out what To’mas was up to. After hearing the plan, they started looking for a place to park. Half way down the street, Nelli saw the taillights of a car come on.
“Look Mattithyahu, that car is leaving,” yelled Nelli.
Stepping on the gas, he cut in front of the car that was coming down the street and grabbed the parking spot. As the second car passed, a lively exchange of Italian took place between Mattithyahu and the occupants of the other vehicle.
Waiting for the car to go by, Mattithyahu and Judah got out. At the same time Anthony came up behind them. As the three of them crossed the street, without turning to look at the other two, Anthony said with a completely straight face, “I’m sure they wished you a nice day.”
“Astute as always, and we, of course, returned the greeting,” smirked Judah.
“I’m going to take Nelli, Mary Ellen, and Father Cossa and try to find a map and then head to the basilica. The three of you split up, but stay within visual contact of each other. Watch for anyone a little too concerned about our whereabouts. The rest of the Guardians should be arriving soon. Once they are here and depending on what we have found, we will figure out our next move.”
The Guardians stayed back while Anthony and the others headed towards Prato della Valle Square. Within a few minutes the priest spotted an information booth that had maps of the city.
“The basilica shouldn’t be very far from here,” said Father Cossa as he opened a map to study.
Anthony listened to the priest, but was also trying to locate Mattithyahu, Judah, and Andrew. He noticed a small group of people passing by, following a male tour guide holding up a blue sign with the words “Basilica di Sant’Antonio” written in large white letters.
Father Cossa and the others also became aware of the small group and watched as they walked a short distance and stopped in front of a store selling Italian-made items. They heard the guide tell the group, “The time is now eleven o’clock. Meet back here under the sign per favore no later than eleven-thirty. The owner of the store behind me allows my agency use of the restrooms and of course hopes you will pick up a little something to take back home. There are also cold drinks to purchase.
“At precisely eleven-thirty, we will head to the last stop on our walking tour, one of the world’s most famous religious monuments, Il Santo.”
Anthony looked at the others. They all knew what he was thinking. Moving even closer to where the group had stopped, they pretended to be studying the map of the city. At precisely eleven-thirty, they heard “avanti, avanti” and watched as the blue sign began to move down the street. The four of them silently began walking as if they, too, were part of the entourage.
Along the way, the tour guide commented on many of the historical landmarks, walking backwards sometimes, answering questions, and interjecting interesting facts about Padua. Periodically, he stopped to allow people to take pictures.
As they approached the end of the block he turned to address the group, “We will turn right at the next corner and you will get your first glimpse of Il Santo, the basilica built to honor our beloved Saint Anthony. At that time I will spend a few minutes and discuss some of the features you will be seeing once we get closer.” Turning, he headed toward the final stop on their walking tour.
Nelli and Anthony, along with Father Cossa and Mary Ellen, watched while the tour group disappeared around the corner. Trailing just a few feet behind, they got their first peek at the church.
“It’s huge,” said Nelli, “we’ll never find the book in time.”
Mary Ellen and Father Cossa were thinking the same thing. As they stood there staring at the huge structure, their minds trying to grasp the task ahead of them, the guide began to instruct the group about what to look for once they got closer.
“Saint Anthony’s will stated he was to be buried in the small church of Sant Maria Matel Domini. That church was incorporated into the present structure as the Cappella della Madonna Mora or the Chapel of the Dark Madonna.
“Construction on the basilica began around 1235. You will observe that it is a giant edifice without a precise architectural style. It has eight Byzantine domes and as the result of three different reconstructions, incorporates a variety of different influences as shown by the exterior details of Romanesque and Byzantine elements with Gothic and Islamic features. It was completed in 1310 although several structural modifications took place between the end of the fourteenth and the mid-fifteenth century.
“Once inside you will notice the architecture is Gothic in style and that the church is a single-naved plan with an apsidal chancel, broad transepts, and two square nave bays roofed with hemispherical domes. With more than five million pilgrims visiting the church each year, there will be other groups besides ours, so please stay together, avanti.” Ten minutes later they were standing in front of the cathedral.
“Please notice that the brick façade is Romanesque in style,” said the tour guide, “it was extended outwards when the aisles were built, acquiring in the process four deep gothic recesses and a balcony that stretches across the entire front of the building.” He waited a few moments while people took pictures.
Nelli gasped, “Do you see it?” she whispered to the others.
There, above the entrance, in a fifth smaller recess was a statue of Saint Anthony holding something in his hands.
“Yes, Nelli, I do,” said Father Cossa.
“Is that a book he’s holding?”
Before anyone could answer she looked at the priest, “Father, will you read the line about the statue again?”
“A statue in my honor will point you to the peak,” replied the priest.
“Do you think this could be the one alluded to in the message?” Nelli asked no one in particular.
“But he is not pointing to anything,” said Mary Ellen.
“If I may,” said Father Cossa politely, “I will read the line again. ‘A statue in my honor will point you to the peak.’”
Nelli realized her error.
“We need to look in the direction the statue is facing, not expect Saint Anthony to literally be pointing.”
Turning, all the
y saw were the buildings and streets of Padua.
“Maybe this isn’t the right statue,” said Mary Ellen.
Nelli felt someone tap her on the shoulder.
“Scusi signorina,” said an older gray-haired woman.
“Can I help you?” asked Nelli.
Anthony watched reaching for his gun.
The woman’s right hand slowly started moving, her other hand holding onto the scarf wrapped around her shoulders. Anthony pointed the gun at the woman from inside his jacket pocket with his finger resting on the trigger.
“I think you may have dropped this,” she said, smiling at Nelli.
In the palm of her hand lay a medal of Saint Anthony.
Anthony pulled his finger away from the trigger but kept his hand on the gun.
“Yes, thank you so much,” said Nelli.
“You must get it blessed my dear, if you haven’t already, before you leave Padua.”
“Yes, I will do that. Thank you again.”
The woman smiled and went back to listening to the tour guide.
“Saint Anthony is showing us we’re on the right path,” Nelli said to the others. “Look around. We’re missing whatever it is we are supposed to be seeing.” Closing her eyes, she prayed to Saint Anthony.
“O Holy Saint Anthony, gentlest of saints, your love for God made you worthy,
when on earth, to possess miraculous powers.
Miracles waited on your word,
which you were ever ready to speak for those in need.
Encouraged by this thought, I implore of you to obtain for me that which I seek.
The answer to my prayer may require a miracle.
Even so, you are the saint of miracles.”
When she opened her eyes, she was looking out past the edge of town to an old structure that sat at the top of a hill. Was this what Saint Anthony wanted her to see? Turning around, Nelli raised her hand to ask a question of the tour guide.
“Yes signorina, you have a question?”
The guide looked a little surprised. He didn’t recognize the face from the group but they often picked up people along the way.
The Serpent's Disciple Page 28