She doesn’t say anything, just stares into my eyes as a tear rolls down her cheek.
“No, Adrian. You’re wrong,” she says, after a few moments of silence. “The Order might have hired you to kill him, but regardless of Horizon’s sick little power play to have you do it, it wasn’t you who pulled the trigger. And you didn’t make him a target, either. The Order would’ve gone after him whether you were around or not. With him being in their crosshairs it was inevitable. The fact he stayed alive as long as he did… that was because of you. He wouldn’t be angry with you, he’d be proud of you.” Her voice starts to crack as more tears roll down her face. She sniffs back her emotion. “And as for being alone? Adrian, you’re not alone. Not now, and not ever again. We’re in this together, and when it’s all said and done, whatever comes next, we’ll do that together, too. I’ve got your back, and I promise you, you won’t lose me.”
I let her words sink in. There’s a part of me that knows she’s probably right about Josh, but I don’t think I deserve to feel anything but guilt and blame for his death. Not yet.
I know that everything else she said couldn’t have been easy for her. She’s like me. She knows emotions will get you killed. She knows the more you care for something, the more you have to lose. Yet she said it all anyway.
I rest my hand on Ruby’s knee. “Thank you. For everything.”
She wipes her face dry and smiles. “Thank me when the job’s done.”
I try to push myself up again, grimacing at the effort.
She puts her hand on my shoulder. “For God’s sake, Adrian, will you stay still?”
I shake my head. “No. I… I need to make a call. Help me up, would you?”
She rolls her eyes but moves to stand beside me. I swing my legs over the side, pausing for a moment to catch my breath, and re-focus on ignoring the pain I’m in. She hooks her arm underneath mine and helps me to my feet.
I stay still for a minute, ensuring I have enough balance to avoid falling over, and to make sure I can actually walk.
…
…
…
Yeah, I’m good.
I pad carefully over to my jacket and reach inside it for Josh’s cell. I scroll through his contacts list, and select the number I want, which starts dialing automatically.
“Who are you calling?” asks Ruby.
I don’t reply, because the phone has already been answered.
“Josh? Goddammit, son, what did I tell you? I’m watching your boy Adrian’s handiwork on CNN. It’s a goddamn disaster over there! What are you playing at?”
I sigh. “Mr. President, it’s not Josh. It’s Adrian.”
“Well then, what are you playing at? I told you to be discreet. Nineteen dead bodies, an explosion, a car crash… Jesus H. Christ, son! How can you—”
“Twenty.”
“What? What does that mean?”
“You said nineteen dead bodies, Ryan, but that’s not right. There were twenty.”
“Why does that matter? Anyway, why are you calling me from Josh’s phone?”
I sigh again. This conversation is going to suck.
22:09 CEST
I’m sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard with my legs stretched out in front of me. Ruby is beside me, eating pizza. We’ve not spoken much since my phone call with President Schultz. In fact, for the last hour, we’ve sat here in silence watching CNN, as it’s the only news channel we can access that doesn’t broadcast in Italian.
He was right. Most of what’s happened today has already made headlines around the world. Thankfully, most people are jumping to the same conclusions—that it was an act of terrorism. It seems to be the go-to reason for anything nowadays. Luckily, there haven’t been any witness statements or security footage to prove otherwise.
Unfortunately, the Italian press also started reporting that one of the dead bodies littering the streets of Rome was Josh Winters, CEO of GlobaTech Industries. The news reporter said America was rocked by his death, and that the nation will mourn him as a hero, for all the work he’s done to help not just the United States, but the world as a whole in the aftermath of 4/17.
The sad truth is, no one will ever actually know half the shit he’s done to help this world.
Schultz was genuinely upset when I told him about Josh, and passed on his sincere condolences, which I appreciated. He promised me Josh would be given a full state funeral, shown every courtesy, and treated like the patriot he was.
I told him everything we knew, including what Horizon had given us. I knew his hands would still be tied regardless, although he made sure to reiterate how much he couldn’t help me.
His final words to me were a promise. He told me to get, and I quote, ‘each and every one of those sorry son’bitches’, and unofficially gave me his blessing to do it however I wanted. ‘Politics be damned,’ he said.
I’ll have to remind him of that when this is over.
But before he hung up, he also told me if I was successful in saving the pope’s life, stopping The Order once and for all, and making it back to the U.S. in one piece, he would publicly exonerate me of all the crimes I was sentenced to death for committing. He didn’t give me the specifics, but said he would explain everything to the American people in a way they would accept and understand, which would allow me my life back.
More incentive, I guess.
Ruby offers me a slice of pizza, but I wave it away. I’m not hungry. I’m too busy thinking.
“How do you think The Order is going to kill the pope?” I ask her.
“Mmm-hmm,” she replies, with a mouthful of pizza. “I don’t know, but we need to figure it out soon if we’re going to stop them.”
“I’ve never had to reverse-engineer a hit before. It doesn’t feel right.”
She doesn’t respond.
I frown. “You okay?”
She reaches over without looking, and fumbles her hand over my face before finding my mouth, and holding her fingers over it.
I silently hold my hands up in the universal ‘what the hell?’ gesture, and she points to the TV before picking up the remote and turning up the volume. On the screen, a woman is standing on the street, talking into a microphone. Over her shoulder, St. Peter’s Basilica is illuminated from beneath, making it glow against the backdrop of the night sky.
“…where tomorrow, commencing at ten a.m., His Holiness will hold a special Papal Mass in front of an expected audience of eighty thousand people, despite the events that have rocked this city throughout the day. A spokesperson for the Vatican said earlier that tomorrow’s Mass is being held to show the world, not just Catholics that we can be united as a people in the face of adversity. The tragic events of today, which claimed the life of GlobaTech Industries CEO, Josh Winters, among others, only serve to highlight the need for such a strong message.
“Tomorrow will also mark the first time His Holiness is joined by all six cardinal bishops—the highest-ranking members of the College of Cardinals—while delivering Mass. While this is both unorthodox and unprecedented, His Holiness himself issued a statement explaining why he felt it was important to show the extent of the Church’s support in these dire times.”
The screen changes to show a file photo of the pope, along with all six cardinals who will be accompanying him tomorrow.
“They will all assist the pope during Mass and Communion, by offering prayers and blessings. In other news, the forecast for tomorrow isn’t favorable, with low cloud, high winds, and even a storm front moving in from the Mediterranean, though it’s unlikely to deter the thousands of people who have traveled from all over the world to be here. The pope, along with his cardinals, will no doubt conduct the service from beneath the canopy at the top of the steps leading inside the famous basilica, should the conditions deteriorate.
“This is Diane Webber for CNN, reporting live from Vatican City.”
Ruby clicks off the TV. “Holy shit.”
I stare blankly ahead.
“I know.”
“Did you see…?”
“I did.”
“What are you thinking?”
I turn to her and reach for a slice of pizza. I’ve suddenly acquired an appetite. “I’m thinking I’ve figured out how The Order intends killing the pope. And I’ve also got my shot. Which means tomorrow, all this shit ends, one way or the other.”
31
08:15 CEST
The thing about luck, in my experience, is that you typically get more bad than good. Also, more often than not, regardless of which kind you get, the timing is rarely useful. Which is why, last night, in our hotel room, eating pizza and watching TV, Ruby and I were so shocked when we not only caught a massive break, but it came along just when we needed it the most.
We’re standing side by side at the foot of one of the beds, which has every weapon and gadget Josh brought with him for the trip laid out on top of it. Nearest to us are the handguns—more M9s, along with several spare magazines. Just above them is a row of tech, including comms units, and a custom range-finding device with a built-in anemometer, for tracking wind speed and direction. I can’t remember what he said it’s called, but he was very proud of it. Next, there are three assault rifles, which are upgraded, tactical versions of GlobaTech’s AX-19, which I’ve had the pleasure of using more than once in the past. Finally, at the top end, raised slightly because it’s resting on the pillows, is the case containing the third Holy Trinity sniper rifle.
That CNN report we saw last night presented us with the opportunity we needed to bring down The Order, and save the pope at the same time. See, in less than two hours’ time, His Holiness is going to walk out in front of tens of thousands of people to deliver Mass, and he’ll have all the cardinal bishops with him. These guys are the six highest-ranking members of the College of Cardinals. One of them is Antonio Herrera Martinez—the camerlengo, and leader of The Order of Sabbah.
Now, ignoring previous advice to stop showing these bastards too much respect, I’m assuming they will be thinking as I would when planning how to take out the pope. My first instinct is a long-distance, high velocity sniper round. Bang… one and done. But the problem with that, as I’ve found out myself, is there aren’t all that many buildings in Rome that offer a good vantage point for a shot like that. Plus, knowing The Order as I do, if they’re going to assume control of the Catholic Church, they’ll want to make a statement. This will be their long-awaited opportunity to step out of the shadows, and present themselves to the world as a group that can be relied on to guide us… blah blah blah. Plus, with Josh dead…
…
…
…
Fuckers.
Sorry.
With him dead, GlobaTech will be in turmoil for a while, which means their ability to keep doing what they have been for this world might be compromised. It’s the perfect time to announce their replacements, right?
That’s how I’m thinking, anyway, and I reckon that’s how The Order will be thinking, too. So, they won’t just shoot the guy, and they won’t have just anyone take him out. That reporter said it herself—today will be Mass, and Holy Communion. If I was Martinez, I’d want to do it myself, to set an example to everyone who works for me. And I’d do it by poisoning the cup that one of the cardinals will pass to the pope during Communion. No one will understand how it’s happened, they’ll just see the pope die on the steps of St. Peter’s Square, and then, BAM! Camerlengo to the rescue.
That’s what I’d do.
I told Ruby my theory last night, and she instantly agreed.
Every now and then, it’s beneficial to have a mind as dark and twisted as mine.
But then, she raised a good point. It’s great that we know how The Order intends doing things, but we need to figure out how to stop them. This is where a little reverse psychology and some poker skills come into play. Let’s not forget, they know I’m here, too. I’m also sure that, by now, they know what we know, which means they’ll be expecting me to try to stop them. I’m going to assume they will be thinking along the same lines as I do, which means they’ll be expecting me to intervene in a less obvious way. Just as they’re going to poison the pope up close, they’ll be figuring I’ll look for a way inside the Vatican, to take out the camerlengo before any of this can happen.
But if they’re thinking like that, they would be wrong.
I look at the case containing the Holy Trinity rifle and smile to myself.
I’m going to shoot the bastard.
09:38 CEST
The change in the weather from yesterday is mindboggling. I know the reporter mentioned something about it last night, but I didn’t expect it to be this bad. It’s not raining yet, although I think it’s inevitable at some point, given how dark and gray the sky is. The wind is howling in all directions. I’m wearing a hooded sweater, with the hood tied up tight around my head. It’s thick, but I’m still getting shivers up and down my spine.
I don’t know… maybe that’s not the weather?
I’ve taken more painkillers than I probably should have, but I’m walking almost normally, despite the leg wound, and the sore back, and the sore shoulder, and the pounding headache…
Just another day at the office, right?
I’m carrying the Holy Trinity rifle beside me, as if it’s a normal briefcase. I don’t have any other weapons on me. Ruby, however, looks like Rambo. She’s walking beside me with a backpack over both shoulders containing one of the AX-19s. At her back are two M9s. Strapped to her thighs are two more, holstered on the outside of her legs. She’s wearing a sleeveless duster coat that runs down to below her knees, concealing them. Beneath it, she’s also wearing a thick, hooded sweater, with the hood up over her head.
We’re walking with purpose, but calmly enough that we don’t stand out among the other pedestrians. As expected, the streets are busy today, which we’re trying to use to our advantage. Right now, we simply look like two tourists, braving the poor conditions, making the most of our trip.
Now, the main issue with my plan to shoot Martinez is the same one anybody would have had—where do I take the shot from? As I said, not many buildings in Rome are tall enough to see over the Vatican City walls, and the ones that are, are too far away, even for me and using this rifle.
There was a tablet device included with Josh’s stuff, so we sat up until the early hours of this morning using GlobaTech’s satellite network to find somewhere suitable. Eventually, we did, but while the location is perfect for the shot, it presents new problems for us to work around.
Namely, it’s very public.
But I can’t let a little thing like that stop us. Not now. There’s too much at stake.
I glance over at Ruby. “You ready for this?”
She keeps looking ahead, and I can see her eyes darting in all directions, constantly checking for threats in the crowds. She nods curtly. “Yeah. We’ve got this.”
We cross the street, and turn right onto a bridge, navigating the growing throng as we make our way across. I look down over the side at the river. The water is moving violently in the strong wind, and I feel myself slowing down, my vision blurring as I focus on the turbulent surface.
I feel Ruby’s hand on my arm, distracting me. “Hey, you with me, big guy?”
“Hmm?” I snap my head around to look at her. “What?”
“Are you alright?”
My gaze rests behind her momentarily. Over her shoulder, I see the bridge farther along the Tiber where Josh had walked yesterday. Just to the right of that, I see the police cordon, blocking off the intersection where he was killed.
I blink slowly, tearing my focus away from it, and back onto Ruby’s emerald eyes. “I’m fine.”
We approach the end of the bridge. “Good, because if you want to change your mind, now’s the time.”
I shake my head. “No, this is the only way.”
We stop as the bridge merges with the clean, cobbled sidewalk on the other side, which stretches aw
ay from us in both directions.
“Are you sure? I mean, what happens if this doesn’t work?”
I shrug. “If this doesn’t work, then Schultz’s promise of exoneration won’t mean shit, as we’ll probably be dead.”
“But if it does…?”
“Then we have to hope Schultz can include the crimes we’re about to commit in his presidential pardon. Although, right now, I honestly don’t care. I just want to get the job done.”
I feel her hand grab hold of my cast as we both stare up at the large, bronze statue of the Archangel Michael, sitting atop the spire of the Castel Sant’Angelo—the Castle of the Holy Angel.
Huh. Ironic, really, as there’s nothing holy or angelic about what I’m fixing to do.
32
09:51 CEST
This is going to be either the most brilliant thing I’ve ever done, or the most stupid.
The castle opens at nine a.m., which means, by now, it’s already going to be busy inside. There’s also extra security, because of the mass. The upside, however, is because of what’s happening in Vatican City in… just under ten minutes, only the first floor of the castle is open to visitors today. This is good, because it means A… there are fewer people in there than normal, and B… no one’s on the roof, so I won’t be disturbed.
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