by Bobby Akart
“If nothing else, we Catholics are humanitarians,” he said with a smile. “Please wait here. I have a few items of interest for your research.”
A few minutes later, he returned with two volumes that appeared to be ledgers tucked under one arm and several maps or prints tucked under the other. Everyone pushed their chairs to the side so he could plop the load on top of the table.
As he did, one of the ledgers fell off the end of the table directly at his feet. Bianca immediately recognized his intention. He slowly bent over to pick up the ledger, but she stopped him.
“Careful, Nonno. You must protect your back. Allow me.”
She dropped to one knee and slid her foot forward until it was concealed under the table from the camera overhead. She immediately noticed the corner of an envelope sticking out of the ledger. With a quick, efficient motion, she pulled it out and slipped it up her pant leg. With a firm grasp of the ledger, she stood and dropped it on the table.
“Thank you, Bianca. I am becoming weak and clumsy in my old age. As my years dwindle in God’s service, I find myself having to prioritize my activities to do the most within my power.”
Bingo! Gunner understood what was happening. Father Colombo had been carrying this burden for many years, but he had no one to trust. Had he met Professor von Zwick, that might’ve changed. However, the old recluse wasn’t able to gain access to the Vatican because he didn’t have the investigative resources afforded the Gray Fox team. Father Colombo was ready to reveal what he knew in a way that wouldn’t compromise his legacy, or his life.
Bianca exchanged a glance with Cam, who casually continued the conversation. She intentionally used a pronoun that could only be interpreted by those in the room.
“Was the Church able to help any of them escape?”
Father Colombo made eye contact with Cam and provided her a slight wink. He was impressed by the team’s ability to play the game.
“Oh, yes. The Church worked very hard to assist them out of Europe. The escape routes ran through Franciscan monasteries, Catholic churches, and convents to safe places around the world. Let me show you some interesting maps I came across while researching this for you.”
He began to unfurl a tattered map when he added some instructions to the group. “Please gather around, as the ink on this map is much older than I am. It is somewhat faded.”
Gunner picked up on his intentions. He was trying to shield the map from the overhead camera. Like a group of doctors operating on a patient’s chest, the group huddled over the map to obscure it from the camera’s view.
He explained in vague terms what the map revealed. “You see the numerous lines emanating from Europe. These lines provided them a means of escape.”
“There are so many,” whispered Cam.
“Yes, young lady, that is true. But the most successful route they used was this one.” Father Colombo traced his fingers from Germany to Spain and then to the West Coast of Africa. From there, he gestured across the South Atlantic until his index finger tapped on Argentina in South America.”
“Successful?” asked Gunner.
“Very, by all measures,” he replied. Father Colombo allowed the map to roll up, and then he opened another one. This map was meaningless, intended as a decoy for those monitoring the surveillance cameras. After several minutes of discussion that lent nothing to their investigation, he turned their attention to the two ledgers.
“These are written in German,” noted Cam, who only made the statement because the front cover clearly read Hauptbuch, the German word for ledger.
“Sprechen sie Deutsch?” asked Father Colombo.
Cam giggled. “Only some basic conversational German. I can read it better than I can speak it.”
“My grandfather is fluent in five languages, including German, French, and Spanish.”
“It was part of my training while at the university,” he added before thumbing through the pages of the ledger. He turned to Gunner. “You asked about the economic conditions of Yugoslavia before and after the war.”
“Um, yes, sir.” Gunner wasn’t sure what else to say.
“Young man, in those days, computers were nonexistent, and many countries didn’t have clerical help to type up long reports. Many used the old-fashioned ledger method of keeping up with their finances. These ledgers have some interesting entries that I won’t explain since this astute young lady is able to read the entries.”
“Why are they written in German if they related to Yugoslavia?” asked Bianca innocently.
Father Colombo responded quickly to answer a question he wished she hadn’t asked. “These were recreations, a duplicate set, if you will. There were a number of resistance forces within Yugoslavia after the German occupation began. Berlin had a genuine concern that state financial records might be destroyed by the resistance. This is a set of ledgers kept in the Vatican archives as part of the historic record. We believe them to be accurate.”
He flipped through the pages until he found the entries he was looking for. He turned the book to face Cam. Following his instructions from earlier, she hunched over the ledger to block the camera’s view.
“Very interesting,” she mumbled. “Um, Father Colombo, is it possible to have copies of these entries? I was unable to bring in my cell phone to take pictures.”
“Yes, of course. While I do that, feel free to review the entries in this ledger. They are similar in scope and size.”
While Father Colombo left the reading room to make the requested copies, Cam studied the entries. The word Odessa appeared repeatedly, and several banks were listed the most often, including United Bank of Switzerland, JP Morgan in New York, and Banco de la Nación in Buenos Aires, Argentina. There was also a name that was seen repeatedly in conjunction with all three banks—Jorgensen.
Chapter Ten
The Vatican Intelligence Service
Vatican City
Father Domenico Ferlucci paced back and forth in the operations center of the Vatican Intelligence Service. He’d become a legend in Vatican City, as he’d brought the relatively unknown spy agency into the mainstream. He was responsible for bringing the Vatican City State into Interpol years ago at the general assembly held in St. Petersburg, Russia.
Working under the auspices of the inspector general of the Corpo della Gendarmeria, Vatican Intelligence had become one of the world’s most formidable spy agencies despite its small numbers and undersized budget. The Catholic Church sensed it was under attack from geopolitical forces around the world. As a result, the small yet oldest government on earth felt the need to protect the internal affairs of the Vatican just like any nation-state would.
While the intelligence resources of the Vatican City State couldn’t compete with the funding or cutting-edge technology of America’s Central Intelligence Agency, Russia’s Main Intelligence Directorate, or China’s Ministry of State Security, would-be spies looking attempting to peek behind the Vatican’s curtains would be making a fatal mistake. Their reach, experience, and capabilities could not be underestimated, namely because their agents were fiercely loyal to the pontiff and fulfilled their oaths of secrecy.
Within intelligence circles, the name given to the Vatican’s clandestine intelligence service is Santa Alleanza, meaning Holy Alliance. Its motto was cum cruce et gladio, with the cross and the sword. The roots of Santa Alleanza stretch back to the 1500s and the days of Pope St. Pius V, who sought intelligence on Queen Elizabeth and her court as he sought an avenue to remove her from power.
To watch Father Ferlucci’s mannerisms, one would think he was a wayward priest who became lost in the catacombs of the Apostolic Palace. For the uninformed, it might be difficult to believe the head of such an important agency within the Vatican would be a cassock-attired cleric who led the world’s oldest intelligence network. His role was a testament to the power of the papacy, the most influential institution in the history of man, to investigate and gather information on external challenges to the Church.<
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A position of such great importance required a man who had the implicit trust of His Holiness. So when Odessa had the opportunity to elevate one of their own through the ranks of the Vatican Intelligence Service to seize the post, they did everything necessary, from assassinations to targeted scandals, to eliminate Father Ferlucci’s competition.
Father Ferlucci was an ex-officer of Italy’s much-feared financial police force called the Guardia di Finanza, an agency charged with the responsibility of investigating the money-laundering activities of mafiosi. As the grandson of a member of Heinrich Himmler’s inner circle, Father Ferlucci had always shown his loyalty to Odessa and often participated in investigatory activities that furthered their interests.
His primary function within Vatican City, in addition to his expected duties, was to protect the secrets of the Church’s connection to Odessa. His job entailed both keeping the financial affairs secretive and ensuring the details of the Nazis’ utilization of the ratlines was buried deep within the vaults of the Apostolic Library. When he was notified that Father Colombo had invited his granddaughter and three Americans into the reviewing room of the secret archives, he raced back to the operations center to learn more.
Now he impatiently paced the floor as he waited for his staff to compile all the video clips. He maintained his usual sense of decorum, but every fiber of his being wanted to grab the young woman sitting at the computer and shake her until she provided the footage.
“Father Ferlucci, I have everything you’ve asked for,” she announced sheepishly. Although he didn’t vocalize his frustrations with the delay, she sensed he was on the verge of replacing her with another analyst.
He casually walked around her desk without appearing to be overanxious. His personnel were trained to observe the actions and mood swings of others. He didn’t want to give away his concern over what would ordinarily appear to be a mundane matter. Pacing the floor was a habit he’d had for years, so it didn’t raise any red flags.
He leaned onto the desk and pointed at the still image of Gunner caught in the hallway leading through the Vatican Library. “This man. He identified himself as a professor, is that correct?”
“Si, signore.”
“Why didn’t the facial-recognition software confirm his identification?”
“Mr. Zaniolo is still confirming his identity. The other two companions as well.”
“What? The other two did not produce results from the software?”
“Si, signore. The granddaughter was confirmed, of course. The three Americans were not.”
“Are you sure they are Americans?” he asked.
The young woman hesitated. “Signore, their passports were valid and issued by the United States. We scanned them as they passed through security. They simply do not appear in any of the usual intelligence databases we access. Mr. Zaniolo is working with Interpol now to confirm their stated identification.”
Father Ferlucci stood and adjusted his cassock. He’d injured his ankle in a nasty spill several weeks ago, causing him to skip his workout routine. He’d traded the gym for extra helpings of pasta and hearty, thick gravy.
“Send all of this to my office computer. Tell Zaniolo to bring me any information as soon as it is available.”
“Si, signore. Is there anything else? Do you want me to analyze their activities in the reviewing room to determine—”
“No,” replied Father Ferlucci, a little too forcefully. The young woman leaned back in her chair as if a mighty gust of wind had suddenly appeared in the belly of the Papal Palace. “I will handle this myself. Send it now and see that I am not interrupted except for Zaniolo.”
“Si, signore. Do you want me to have the Americans detained? They will be exiting the Apostolic Library momentarily.”
Father Ferlucci processed what he knew and determined it would raise red flags if he held the unknown Americans under the circumstances. Besides, his counterparts in Rome could pick up their activity on the massive visual surveillance system established in the city by the gendarmerie. They could walk, and even run, but they could not hide.
“Not necessary, thank you.” Father Ferlucci walked down the hallway toward his office with a purpose. His first course of action was to send the entirety of the surveillance file to Hexane, Odessa’s cyber experts, to help with the identification. Their resources were far greater than the pope’s.
Chapter Eleven
Castle Bariloche
Bariloche, Argentina
“We have developments,” announced Daniel Wagner as he returned to Henry’s study, where the elderly member of die Zwölf was sharing a brandy with his younger brother, Derek. The two had been discussing the upcoming Bilderberg Meeting and what they’d hoped to gain from the annual gathering of the world’s global elite. Earlier, Wagner had excused himself to make contact with his operatives for an update. He wasn’t one to rest on his laurels and was a big believer of kicking his enemy when they were down.
Derek finished his thought to his brother. “Two days. This attack is intended to be a misdirection.”
Henry nodded and winked, a sign of his understanding.
The two senior members of Odessa set down their glasses and turned their attention to Wagner. Henry gestured for Wagner to sit; however the former commander of Kommando Spezialkraefte, or KSK, the elite special forces unit of the German Army, declined.
“A situation has come up in Rome that I am handling.” Wagner liked to assuage his boss’s concerns at the same moment he apprised them of a problem.
“What has happened in Rome?” asked Henry nervously. His mother, Brit, had maintained very close ties to the Vatican and was a devout Catholic. Henry had vowed to carry on her legacy of supporting the local church as well as maintaining their surreptitious financial ties to the Vatican Bank.
“The three operatives we encountered in both Northern Germany and Azerbaijan have resurfaced, this time within the Vatican. Hexane received a call from Father Ferlucci with the Vatican Intelligence Service. He forwarded video of the three Americans, who’d gained access to the vaults of the Apostolic Library.”
“What?” screamed Henry as he uncharacteristically raised his voice and showed his anger by slamming his hands on the armrests of his chair. “How could security let this happen?”
“The three operatives and a woman were escorted by Father Colombo, the headmaster of the Apostolic Library. They were given direct access to the vaults and were restricted to one of the reading rooms.”
“Why would the Americans be nosing around the Vatican Library?” asked Derek.
“Because, my brother, that’s where all the answers lie,” replied Henry. “The Catholics have a penchant for writing everything down. It’s in their DNA.”
“Like the monks,” interjected Daniel irreverently.
Henry scowled and nodded his head. “What did they see?”
“I’m on my way back to my office to analyze the video feeds myself, but it appears they were shown some type of journals or maybe ledger books. My people believe they intentionally hovered over the table during their time with Father Colombo to obscure their activities from the view of the cameras.”
Henry was becoming increasingly agitated. “Did the Swiss Guard arrest them? What about Ferlucci? What did he do?”
“Well, nothing,” replied Daniel. “They immediately contacted Hexane operations, who took it from there.”
“So they got away?”
“No. We’ve dispatched teams to the woman’s apartment to apprehend them. They’re en route now.”
“Who is the woman?” asked Derek.
Wagner looked at the text message stream from the Hexane operations center. “Bianca Morosini. She’s apparently Father Colombo’s granddaughter.”
Derek exhaled and stood from his chair. He wandered around the study, rubbing his temples. Henry grew perturbed that he didn’t vocalize his concerns.
“What is it?” he demanded.
Derek quickly replied, �
��Sergio Morosini is her father. He’s one of Knight Gruppe’s contractors in the shipping business. He’s reclusive and not actively involved in our affairs, but a valuable asset nonetheless.”
“Wait,” said Henry as he raised his right hand. “How familiar is he with Odessa?”
“His grandfather was the chargé d’affaires at the German embassy during the war but was the de facto ambassador with a direct pipeline to Mussolini. We began doing business with Morosini based upon his connection to his grandfather but also because his shipping company was vital to the region for our future plans.”
Henry was still concerned. “Why would this young woman, Morosini’s daughter, help the Americans?”
“Maybe she was duped?” asked Derek, not entirely convinced of his theory.
“We’ll find out soon,” interjected Wagner. “Our people will pick them all up and make them talk.”
Both Henry and Derek sighed simultaneously. Henry didn’t like the Americans being so close to the Vatican’s secrets, and Derek wanted everyone’s efforts focused on the next attack. He wanted to remain on the offensive.
“Do you need me?” he asked Wagner.
“No. If I may, I need to spend time with the video we received from the Vatican.”
Henry dismissed Wagner with a wave of his hand. His scowl reflected Derek’s own feelings about the distraction. After Wagner exited the study, Derek poured his brother another brandy and handed him the glass.
“Wagner will handle this. Not to worry, brother.”
Henry took a sip. “We need to remain focused. We’ve been waiting for this opportunity since, well, since 1945. We’ve planned. We’ve invested in resources. We’ve kept assets in place. Nothing should derail what you and I have carefully orchestrated our entire lives.”
Derek walked up to his brother and led him back to the leather chairs facing the fireplace. He added another log onto the fire and used the poker to set it just right. The winter had turned bitter that evening, and the cold, dank castle did little to keep it out.