Papal Justice

by CG Cooper

  +++

  8:44pm

  “That’s three of four,” Cal announced. Somehow they’d done it without civilian casualties. With as many targets as they had and the landscape they were operating in, that was a frickin’ miracle.

  But, of course, they had the hardest one left. He’d purposely left that one for him and his men. The obvious reason was that the other three teams didn’t know about the Pope. They knew about the kids and about the terrorists, but only the guys on Cal’s Osprey knew about the highest profile hostage.

  Again, everything was going according to their hasty plan. They’d gotten the intel from Ruiz via the dead El Moreno (the detail they’d dispatched to Brawley had confirmed the man’s death, along with eighteen of his people), and now they were taking the rogue buses out one by one. It was methodical, like knocking down dominoes one at a time.

  That didn’t mean they’d come out smelling like roses. They already lost one Marine and there were more wounded, not to mention the trauma those poor kids were going through. Add to that they still didn’t know the jihadis’ true motives. It could all be for show, just to prove that they could get their hands on someone like the Pope and take him through a porous border into the U.S., but why? There had to be a reason. These clowns never did anything without a reason, whether it was to induce fear, subjugate a population, or just wreak havoc. All you had to do was look in the dictionary. The definition of terrorism was the use of violence and intimidation in the pursuit of political aims. That’s what people didn’t get. There was always a motive, and Cal never forgot that.

  As he watched the computer screen and listened to the ongoing chatter over the waves, he wondered what those motives might be, and if they were in time to hold off the potential killing blow.

  Chapter 35

  St. John Vianney Catholic Church

  Goodyear, Arizona

  8:33pm, March 15th

  Kathy Anday-Fallenius was just wrapping up her work when she heard the rectory’s doorbell ring. She was the last one there, thanks to the upcoming community bridge tournament. It was an annual affair and, as the resident bridge expert, Kathy always had a hand in it.

  Her church was in a safe part of town, nothing like some of the neighborhoods she’d visited doing mission work in nearby Phoenix. Even so, she was always careful. Her husband had taught her that, God rest his soul.

  The bell rang again as she hurried to see who was at the door. Probably some poor congregant looking for a late night visit with the priest. But Father Gerald had gone home, so that meant she’d have to either call him or somehow figure out a way to help. She hated turning away those in need.

  She could see whoever was at the door go to press the doorbell again, but he checked his hand when he saw her. He waved and she waved back. She saw a white school bus in the parking lot behind him, but she couldn’t make out the name on the side.

  Kathy unbolted the door and cracked it open.

  “May I help you?” she asked.

  “I am sorry to disturb you at this hour, Ma’am, but we have half a bus full of kids the diocese got from the border.” The man spoke reverently and he had a slight accent. But accents were common in Arizona, where much of the population was Hispanic. He stood a respectable distance from her, his hands clasped in front of his body.

  “And the diocese told you to bring the children here?” Kathy asked. She hadn’t heard anything about it. It wasn’t like Father Gerald to drop the ball on something so important.

  “Yes. Here is a letter with instructions.” The man handed her a rolled parchment. “We also have supplies and money to get the children settled, at least until we can find them permanent homes.”

  “Are they all orphans?”

  The man nodded gravely. “Many parents will do anything to see that their children have a chance to live better lives than what the south can provide.”

  Kathy understood. The church often played host to displaced families and even had a program dedicated to helping illegals get their citizenship. There were many in need, and Kathy knew you only had to look in order to find them.

  “Let me call Father Gerald and make sure we can—”

  “Please,” the man said. “The children are tired and hungry. Many need to use the bathroom. Can we bring them in now and you can call your priest as we unload everything?”

  Kathy wanted to do the right thing. What could it hurt? Maybe the diocese hadn’t called Father Gerald. Maybe it was all one big mistake. Or maybe this was the miracle she’d been praying for. She was only in her early fifties and she’d never had children. Maybe God could bless her and one of those orphans on the bus.

  “You’re right,” she said. “Bring them in. We can set them up in the choir room for now.”

  The man smiled and ran back to the bus.

  Kathy couldn’t help staring. She somehow kept the tears from falling as she watched the nineteen children file in. Their eyes were wide, like they’d been through the most horrific journey imaginable. She estimated that the youngest was probably three and the oldest was twelve or thirteen. No one made direct eye contact with her. Kathy could understand that too. She was a stranger and they were far from home.

  They took turns using the various bathrooms in the church. While she supervised the children, the five men from the bus unloaded the supplies. There were boxes of used clothing (a blessing because Kathy knew the church didn’t have enough for nineteen children), blankets and sleeping mats. There were even a couple cases of bathroom soap. She was familiar with them because they were the same brand she sometimes replaced in the bathrooms. Kathy asked the man in charge about the soap and he only shrugged and said, “I think it was some kind of surplus. I’ll make sure my volunteers install them before we leave.”

  She almost stopped them, but what could it hurt? Although the church did well financially, they were always looking for better ways to cut costs and keep down spending. Because she wrote most of the checks for the monthly bills, Kathy knew they were buying that same soap for anywhere between ten and twenty five dollars apiece. Having a couple extra cases would save them a few hundred dollars, and that was a good thing.

  Once the children were settled, the supplies were stacked neatly in the hall, and the soap dispensers replenished (luckily she’d remembered to have them save the old ones and put them in the supply closet), the man with the accent said farewell.

  “God bless you for what you’re doing,” Kathy said to him as he turned to go.

  He looked back and gave her a funny little smile, then nodded and got back on the bus.

  Kathy waved her goodbye and then realized that she hadn’t called Father Gerald. The delivery would be all anyone would talk about for the next five years. What a wonderful opportunity to help those poor children.

  +++

  Felix smiled as the bus pulled out of the church parking lot. He could only assume that the rest of the deliveries had gone according to plan. Even if one hadn’t, the others would easily make up for it. From what his masters had told him, it would only take one to be a success. If more than one succeeded, so much better.

  The dominoes were about to fall. All he needed to do was tip that first one over.

  Chapter 36

  Southern California Airspace

  8:56pm, March 15th

  Cal read the note on the screen. It sent cold tendrils snaking up his back. The jihadis had planned well. The Delta team was the first to discover the letter. An almost identical one had now been found at the two other scenes. They each had the proper seal from the corresponding archdiocese of the given church This had the markings of the Archdiocese of Los Angeles. Cal read it again.

  Due to the increasing pressures placed on parishes along the Mexican border, the Church has tasked us with placing these children within our own archdiocese. As we are sure your parishioners will understand, this is a noble cause as these children deserve nothing less than our enthusiastic assistance.

  As the volunteer team will tel
l you, the archdiocese had also included a shipment of supplies to get things started. You should also be given a thousand dollars for discretionary spending for the initial care of these young orphans. Please ensure that you use these supplies, as they were donated by loving supporters who would like nothing more than for them to be utilized.

  Follow-up instructions will be provided within the coming days. Should you need immediate assistance, please call…

  They’d checked and the phone numbers matched except for the very last number. A convenient oversight, and one that would be ignored by whoever they might find on their late night delivery.

  The bastards had even done that part right. By taking the children in at night, they were almost assured an easy drop-off. The guy Lt. Heron had interrogated even told them that should they find no one at their designated church, they were to break into the building, stash the kids in a secure room, and lock them in. A call would be placed, and someone would show up to find them.

  Simple.

  So what was their goal? No one had found anything. The kids were getting a thorough check, and so far, other than the obvious exhaustion and fear, they were good. Travis had suggested that they get the rest of the supplies to a HAZMAT facility for inspection, and the first shipment had just arrived. Travis told the commander of the team of experts to comb every thread of those blankets and to put any other work aside until it was done.

  Things were rolling, blocks were being checked, but they still didn’t have the last bus or the Pope.

  Cal tapped his cousin on the arm to get his attention. “Trav, can you figure out a way to alert the Catholic churches in California, Arizona and Nevada?”

  “Sure. What do you want me to tell them?”

  “Just tell them to contact us once they get the children. Don’t freak them out, but give ‘em a story about how we’re the follow-up crew or something. You’ve been in Washington long enough to come up with a bullshit cover.”

  Travis rolled his eyes, but nodded.

  As his cousin got working, Cal’s eyes went back to the computer. He reread the letter again. There had to be something he was missing, a coded message, anything that could help him figure out what this was all about. Until that happened, the Pope was still down there somewhere, carted along by the twisted machinations of the Spanish jihadis.

  +++

  Our Lady of Joy Catholic Church

  Carefree, Arizona

  9:25pm

  The bus pulled into the empty parking lot and Felix got his first view of the Church complex. There were seven buildings that made up the church and corresponding preschool. While there were similarities to the Catholic places of worship he’d seen in Spain, this one and the others he’d chosen in America just seemed different. Whether it was the affluent culture or the fact that his skin crawled at being so close to the belly of the beast, Felix didn’t like it. The fact that it made him uncomfortable pushed him farther. If he’d learned anything from this journey, it was that service to his faith required periods of extended discomfort, like Allah was testing him each step of the way, daring him to fail, to quit, to show weakness.

  But Felix was too far along for that. The blasphemer in the seat across from him was proof of Felix’s newfound faith. The way he rationalized it was that if his faith wasn’t strong, if he hadn’t pushed himself and his men to the edge, then surely this prize would not be sitting there with blank eyes like he was looking through a haze.

  When the bus stopped, he and his remaining four men got out with the Pope in between them. Their weapons were hidden but ready. It wasn’t hard to break into the front door and disable the alarm. Apparently his new companions from Los Angeles had ample experience in such things.

  Felix had studied the blueprints of the church and knew exactly where to go. When they got to the worship space, they marched straight to the altar. A wooden cross with a wreath hanging over the crosspiece greeted them. Felix tore down the wreath and threw it into the pews.

  “Get him changed,” Felix ordered, setting a pair of duffle bags on the floor. He unzipped one, grabbed a mass of white from inside and tossed it to one of the men. “Make sure he puts it all on. If he doesn’t, do it for him.”

  The man nodded and took their prisoner to the side. There would be no bathroom privacy for the holy man. He would change right there in front of his enemies.

  As the Pope stripped himself down and discarded his former disguise, Felix and the others set about organizing their own cargo. Tripods were erected and bulbs were screwed in. Once they were done, Felix checked the equipment. It all worked.

  “Get him on the cross while I get ready,” Felix said, grabbing a pile of neatly folded clothing out of one of the bags. He made his way to a side room to get changed. No need to expose himself to the man who would soon be burning in hell. That would be bad luck, Felix thought, going over the rehearsed lines in his head as he closed the door.

  +++

  Southwest Arizona Airspace

  9:34pm

  Travis took the call, listening intently as the Secret Service agent on the other end relayed the information.

  “Got it. Thanks.”

  He ended the call and turned to Cal.

  “We got a line on the last bus.”

  Cal made him a give it to me motion with his hand.

  “The Archdiocese of Phoenix confirmed that a white bus dropped off nineteen kids and supplies just after eight-thirty. The kids are safe and another team is headed that way to secure the scene.”

  “I’m glad you suggested drifting into Arizona. How far do you think we are from its last confirmed location?” Cal asked.

  Travis pulled up a map on his laptop and did some quick math.

  “I’d say twenty minutes, thirty max. The pilots could tell us for sure.”

  Cal nodded.

  “Give them the location and tell them to get us there as fast as we can.”

  Travis got up and made his way to the cockpit. Not for the first time, he wondered if they would get to the Pope in time.

  Chapter 37

  Our Lady of Joy Catholic Church

  Carefree, Arizona

  9:41pm, March 15th

  Felix checked himself in the mirror. Everything had to be perfect. Nothing could be visible just in case his identity was revealed. He was even wearing mirrored sunglasses over his balaclava. Not a sliver of skin was showing, just the way they’d trained him.

  He made his way back into the chapel, strolling in as his compatriots gave him short nods of deference. This was his show and the others were just there to watch.

  They had done as instructed and the Pope was now chained to the wooden crucifix, a fitting image for the camera. He smiled up at the leader of the Catholic Church, but then realized the man couldn’t see the smile and he turned from the man’s steady gaze. Something about it made him uneasy.

  Felix pointed to the man behind the camera and the red light came on. It was time.

  +++

  Arizona Airspace

  9:47pm

  The Predators had been close before, but with the new intel, the net closed in. An alert flashed across Cal’s screen and then the voice of someone in Yuma.

  “Possible target acquired. Location, Carefree, Arizona.”

  Cal watched as the two Predator cameras zoomed in, recording different angles of the church’s grounds.

  “Target confirmed,” came the voice again. Cal saw the lettering on the white bus parked close to the church.

  “Thank you, Yuma. Please stand by,” Cal said.

  He pulled up their current location and measured the distance. Just under thirty miles.

  +++

  Our Lady of Joy Catholic Church

  Carefree, Arizona

  9:55 pm

  The red light switched off and Felix peeled off the balaclava. He felt energized, like he’d been plugged into a conduit that powered the universe. The words had flowed from his heart and he knew they would fly like daggers into the chests
of the American infidels. They would pay for their sins.

  Felix looked up at the Pope and said, “Now we leave you. Do you have any last words before I go?”

  The Spaniard expected a spit in the face or a flurry of curses to rain down, the final heresy of a condemned man. Instead, the Pope looked down at him with sad eyes and said, “I pray that you find what it is you are looking for, my son.”

  Felix stared at the old man, words failing him. He turned to hide his embarrassment and barked, “Get your things. The helicopter will be here soon.”

  He made his final preparations without looking at the doomed man again. Felix would never admit to anyone that the look in the Pope’s eyes haunted him, like someone seeing into his soul and finding his deepest fears. He shook the image away and headed for the door. It wouldn’t matter soon. Felix was the one walking away, not the Pope.

  +++

  Arizona Airspace

  9:59pm

  “Alpha, we have five possible tangos leaving the building,” came the call from Yuma.

  The report was unnecessary but part of the process. Cal and his team had been observing the feed and watched as the figures made their way out of the largest building, leaving one man behind.

  “How long until we touch down?” Cal asked the pilot.

  “Five minutes.”

  The men on the screen didn’t go back to the bus. They crossed the road, running along the western boundary of the church, heading for the short runway. They’d been afraid of that. As soon as Cal had pulled up a map of the objective, the obvious outlines of the airstrip jumped out at him. When he pulled it up on Google and went down to the street view, he saw that the strip wasn’t even surrounded by a wire fence, just one of those wooden railing numbers. The place was called Skyranch at Carefree and its website tagged it for what it was: a private lily pad for rich people. Minimal security and easy access. A perfect way for the bad guys to get away.