by Rene Fomby
“And who exactly was that, Cardinal Orso? Who had won?”
Orso turned and matched his steely gaze. “The vote was overwhelmingly in favor of me.”
“I see.” The visitor’s right index finger was pumping up and down on the arm of the chair. A distraction, and Orso knew that was almost certainly what he intended it to be. “So, you won. Then what happened?”
Orso paused to swallow. “I was standing near the front, next to the Dean. When I suddenly realized what had happened, that I was to be the new Vicar of Christ, it was like I had already been led into the Room of Tears. The entire chapel spun around me, and then everything went black. The next thing I knew, I woke up here. And now they refuse to let me leave. Or even to call anyone, or use the television. It’s like I’m some kind of prisoner. Me, the pope himself, being held prisoner in this hospital!”
The visitor studied his eyes, his face, looking for a weakness, some sign of dissemblance. But, if it was there, he certainly couldn’t find it. Was it possible this Cardinal was telling the truth?
“Cardinal Orso, has anyone informed you about what happened at the Vatican immediately after you were evacuated by ambulance?”
“No, no. I assume—I assume that the crowds have now melted away. It’s been what, a day already? What is everyone saying? What is the plan? I need to write my speech, my blessing …”
“Yes. Well, there will be time enough for that later.” The visitor studied his hands, not knowing exactly how to explain what was still, to the entire world, unexplainable. “Cardinal Orso. Your—Holiness. There has been a tragic accident.”
Orso immediately caught the switch from the condescending title of Cardinal to the pontifical Your Holiness. It appeared that his little ruse had worked after all. If he could convince this man, then he was already well past the testing phase of his election. “What—what kind of accident? Is it someone I know?”
The visitor nodded, still partially lost in thought. “Yes, yes. A great many people you know, in fact.” Slowly, and with great difficulty, he explained what had happened at the chapel, and what they had learned about the attack in the twenty-four hours since. “So, you see, Your Holiness, it was important that we confirm your election before proceeding any further.”
“And you are comfortable now that you have done so?”
“Yes. I am. You would never have told me a lie about the vote, not when one hundred fourteen cardinals could have easily come forward to call you on it. No, under the circumstances, not knowing that you were the very last witness to that vote, you would only have confirmed your election if it were true.” He stood up to leave. “And again, under the circumstances, I don’t see as how there is any other possible explanation for your collapse but that Our Father Himself reached out to save you from the inferno, from Satan’s own fire. Saved you, alone, to move His Church forward into a new era. It was nothing short of a miracle, my pope. And I witnessed it myself. The entire world witnessed it.”
He started to walk toward the door, but suddenly stopped and turned back. “These are perilous and unprecedented times, Your Holiness. And our Lord has clearly chosen you for some great role in all of this. Not just the head of our Church. The head of our Faith.” He paused. “I can tell you need a little more time to gather your strength, to gather your thoughts. So much has happened in such a short period of time. And I have preparations to make back at the Vatican. Preparations for your official elevation to the position Our God in Christ has chosen for you. The next few days promise to be very trying, so you will need your strength. As will we all. So rest well, my Holy Father. Rest well for the battles ahead.” With that he bowed ever so slightly and slipped out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him.
43
Ostia Antica
Dr. Michele Greystone ran her fingers through her hair absent-mindedly with a deep sigh. “Okay, I can spare a few students to help out with moving everything, and we have a specially designed truck with an ultra-soft suspension for transporting anything that needs extra care, but where are we taking all this?”
Gavin was still busy on the phone trying to organize a rescue mission, so Sam had taken charge of getting their cargo unloaded from the train and prepped for transport. She already had one of the Trust’s yachts steaming down the coast at full speed, and the plan was to meet up with it at the Pontile di Ostia, a pier jutting out into the Tyrrhenian Sea just about a mile away. From there she would stay with the jars until they arrived in Naples, where they would offload everything once again and place it all on a Cessna Citation bound for Venice. And the secure vaults at BancItalia, the Ricciardelli family bank.
“Our destination for now is the Pontile di Ostia. I have a boat meeting us there in a few hours.” Sam saw Gavin put his phone in his pocket and turn to head their way, a thoughtful look playing across his face. She turned back toward Dr. Greystone, who was showing more than a little frustration at all the secrecy, given that she had been forced to drop everything her students were doing today to unload a train full of archeological artifacts. “And for security’s sake, Dr. Greystone, that’s all I can tell you at this point. Suffice it to say that this cargo is extremely valuable, and there are people in this world who would stop at nothing to get their hands on it. In fact, that’s already happened, just a few months ago. Someone I had entrusted with about a quarter of the—cargo—someone with impeccable academic credentials, he turned out to be nothing more than a common thief. And now a quarter of it is gone, probably forever. So for right now, I hope you’ll just take my word that getting everything moved off to a secret location is absolutely paramount at this point. I promise you I’ll fill you in on all the details once everything is safe. Okay?”
“I guess it will have to be okay.”
Gavin had just reached them, motioning for Sam to join him a few feet away for a private conversation.
As soon as they were alone, Sam jumped in immediately. “What did he say? Is there any chance—”
Gavin put a finger to his lips until Dr. Greystone was safely out of earshot. “I hope so, Sam. Sanders said he has a Navy assault team that can be here on the ground later today. While they’re en route, I’ll be sending them info on what they’ll be facing when they get here, so hopefully there won’t be too many delays before we can get moving.”
“Assault team? You mean Seal Team Six?”
Gavin laughed brusquely. “Actually, Sam it’s the United States Naval Special Warfare Development Group, a Naval component of the Joint Special Operations Command. It’s no longer called Seal Team Six.”
“Wow! I know Bob Sanders has a lot of pull back in Washington, but I never thought we’d get the big boys. Maybe Seal Team Two or Three—”
“Which don’t exist. There has never been any Seal Team other than Six. The name was made up to confuse the Russians and the Chinese, keep them busy searching for the missing teams. And the deception seemed to have worked. But yeah, Sanders appears to swing a pretty big club in Washington, so we’re getting the Red Squadron, which just happened to be in Paris today on a training mission. It’s a team that specializes in assaults just like this one. So this won’t be their first rodeo.”
“Good to know. And—what about you? Are you going in with them? Will Sanders let you take the risk, seeing as how you’re supposed to be focusing on hunting down Andy?”
“I was specifically ordered not to go along on the mission. Buy, yeah, I’m going in, too. They need someone who can positively identify Mehmed, just in case they have more than one Turkish prisoner locked away down there. So that leaves either you or me, and even though I’m nowhere near as well-trained as these guys, they let me know in no uncertain terms that they weren’t going to be hauling a civilian down into the hole. Particularly a female civilian.”
“Well, I suppose I should take that as an insult, but I can’t, because they’re right. I would just slow them down and put everybody at risk. So I guess my best role in all of this is to oversee moving the cargo out
to the yacht, then hang around until all the shooting has stopped.” She put a hand to his cheek, softly. “But—Gavin—don’t do anything stupid, okay? Promise me. As much as I want to see Mehmed rescued, it isn’t worth losing someone else over all this. And he may not even be down there.”
“I’ll be careful, don’t worry. I still have a little boy and girl that I want to watch grow up, living out in California with their whore of a mother. And besides, the assault team wants me to hang back until all the shooting is over. They just need me to make a quick ID on whoever they might find, then race back out of that hole as fast as my little legs will take me. I mean, after all, in real life I’m just an FBI desk jockey. Momma’s little boy was never made to be an action hero.”
“And you just be sure you keep it that way, Agent Larson. Andy Patterson is counting on her little hero coming to save her ass, as well. So, when we’re done here tonight I’m shipping your sorry butt back to Rabat. That way you can get back to work on that particular rescue, first thing tomorrow morning.”
Gavin’s phone chose that moment to buzz, so he smiled a quick goodbye to Sam and walked off in the direction of the now-unhidden tunnel. There were still a great many details to be worked out, and precious little time left to do so.
44
Vatican City
“So there can be no doubt?” Savio asked, rubbing the back of his bald head.
Joseph shook his head, still scowling. “No doubt at all. He’s the one. The miracle of his rescue more than proves that. And he couldn’t have come at a better time. Given everything that has happened recently, I’m afraid the End of Times may finally be upon us. And if it is, we must all prepare our lives and our souls in service to our Lord. Peace appears to have fled screaming from this world, perhaps forever.”
An anguished look passed across the bald man’s face. “If that is so, it is a very dark and treacherous path that lies before us, indeed. We shall all see much pain and suffering on this earth before all of this is over.” He raised his chin toward heaven and crossed himself quickly, without thinking. “May our gracious Lord have mercy on all our souls, my brother.”
“Amen,” Joseph agreed.
45
Ostia Antica
It was already well after dark. The assault team showed up well ahead of schedule and were busily unloading their equipment off a black canvas-covered transport vehicle as Dr. Greystone observed the operation with a deep scowl.
“What the hell! This is an archeological dig site, not a staging ground for World War Three,” she complained to no one and everyone in particular.
“I know, I know, and I’m terribly sorry about all of this,” Sam explained with a slight shake of her head. “But knowing those goons from the Vatican security team, Mehmed doesn’t stand a chance of surviving another day in there, not after what his countrymen did to the Vatican. I just hope we’re not already too late …”
Dr. Greystone didn’t look very convinced. “If you had told me up front that you planned to pull this kind of shit, I’d have sent you packing the moment you stepped on site. I mean, I’ve got all of these students to worry about, and if this place winds up being ground zero for some kind of high stakes shoot out—”
“It won’t be, I promise you. And, to be fair, the idea that Mehmed might be locked up inside that underground complex—being tortured to extract information about the attack on the conclave he simply doesn’t have—that didn’t even occur to us until we were just about to leave with the amphorae.”
“And then you waited until this assault truck pulled up just outside my front door to tell me what you had planned. Try explaining that away.”
“You’re right, and I was wrong. Everything was just happening so fast, and—I apologize. But we won’t get a second chance to save my colleague, and it’s my fault he was stuck down there in the first place. I should have pulled him out when everything went south after the pope got murdered. But I didn’t, so anything and everything that’s happening to him is on my head. I’ve got to at least try and make it right. If that were one of your colleagues, or one of your students, you’d do the same.”
Dr. Greystone stared at her for a long moment, then suddenly her face softened. “You’re right. If that were one of my students in there, I would be leading the assault team myself. So … apology accepted. What can I do to help?”
“I don’t think there’s much of anything either one of us can do but stay the heck out of the way. Are all of your students off-site for the night?”
“Yes, and thanks for setting that up. They’re staying in Rome for the evening, enjoying a well-earned night off, all on your dime.”
“And well out of the way of danger, should it come calling. Good.” Sam noticed that the assault team had finished moving their equipment into the tunnel, and Gavin was now waving her over. “Looks like I gotta go, Dr. Greystone. Do you plan on sticking around for the rest of this, or are you heading back into Rome yourself?”
“I can’t leave. All of this is my responsibility. If something bad happens, I want to know about it immediately, rather than roll in here tomorrow morning with my students and find out about it the hard way. I guess you and I can wait things out in that little shed over there.” She pointed toward a small building about two hundred feet from the mouth of the tunnel that she used mainly for daily planning meetings with the students.
“That’ll be perfect. They’re going to be broadcasting a live camera feed from inside the tunnel, so assuming the signal can punch its way all the way out here, we’ll be able to watch what’s happening down there in real time. It beats just sitting on our hands and sweating it all out dumb and blind …”
“Good. So we have a plan. Now you’d better hightail it over there right now before your friend has a conniption fit.”
Gavin checked his watch impatiently as Sam trotted over to join him. “Are we getting close?” she asked, looking over his shoulder at the tunnel entrance.
“Yeah, they’ve got a set of three wheelers all lined up and ready to go.” He glanced back at the entrance himself. “They figure there should have been a personnel swap at the prison right around dinner time, so everyone should be settling in for the evening right about now. A perfect time for us to go spoil their little dinner party, once and for all.”
“You’re not using the train?” Sam asked.
“No, I suggested that, but their commander said it was too risky. The batteries could die, or there might not be any easy way to turn it around on the other end. Plus, the trikes we’ll be using are well-muffled, and have a full set of infrared headlights in addition to the normal lights. We’ll be using IR headsets, so we’ll be able to sneak up behind them silent, dark and deadly.”
“How will they get inside without being discovered?”
Gavin smiled crookedly. “I rechecked the blueprints for the place, and the freight elevator should open up right in the middle of the jail area. So we chunk a few flash-bangs in there, then come barreling out of the elevator loaded for bear. They can’t have more than a skeleton crew left behind in there—at fourteen stories underground, there’s not a lot of risk of anyone getting in or out of there without plenty of warning. Or so they think. And that’s all to our advantage, popping up out of a rabbit hole they don’t even know exists.”
“And what if you’re wrong?” Sam asked. “What if the elevator door is sealed off from their side? What’ll you do then?”
“I don’t know. Maybe blow the locks on the front door to the place. We’ll just have to wait and see. As you know, no plan—”
“Survives first contact with the enemy. Right.” She noticed the assault team had shouldered the last of their gear and were walking briskly toward the tunnel, while the one she had pegged as their commander had turned and was headed their way.
He covered the ground between them quickly. “Ms. Tulley. Agent Larson,” he nodded.
Sam eyed him carefully, the well-honed, well-trained body, the way his close-cropped gra
ying hair blended nicely with the gray flecks in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught your name.”
“No, you didn’t,” he answered with just the slightest smirk. “But for convenience sake, I guess, you can call me Jack.”
“Okay—Jack.” Sam jerked her head toward the tunnel. “I guess it’s time.”
“No time like the present.” Jack handed her a small tablet. “With any luck, you’ll be able to use this to keep tabs on what’s happening in there. It’ll even pick up the IR feed, which is critical, because I don’t think we’ll be leaving the lights on inside the complex for very long. So unless for some crazy reason they’re walking around with their own IR headsets in place, we’ll have a decided tactical advantage in the dark.” He turned to Gavin and nodded. “Ready to get going, pardner?”
“All set.” Gavin gave Sam a small clap on the shoulder and followed Jack into the tunnel. She watched quietly as they walked away, then turned to join Dr. Greystone in the planning shack. The pit of her stomach suddenly felt hollow, and she glanced back just in time to see Gavin duck his head and drop down into the hole.
※
The team moved soundlessly up the tunnel, stopping every few minutes to place electronic repeaters along the track to bounce their audio and video signal back to the outside. “Jack” knew that the signal was being closely monitored in Washington as well as the shack at the mouth of the tunnel, and he planned on giving them a good show.
In less than thirty minutes the team pulled up to the train station and began unloading their gear, preparing for action. The assault team was made up of Jack and two of his men, with the fourth man hanging back with Gavin in the train station in case he needed to provide a rear-guard action. Gavin opened up the doors to the freight elevator and quickly trained the assault team on its operation. With flash bang grenades in hand, the team positioned themselves for action as Gavin closed the doors and pressed the button to send the elevator down to the fourteenth floor.