by David Archer
Spencer looked at his cup for a moment, and then back up at Sam. “Well,” he said, “I really don't want to try doing that over the phone. The smart move would be for me to go and visit them face-to-face, don't you think?”
“Yeah, I'd say that would be best. I hate to say it, but if it's that easy for us to put a tap on you, it's probably just as easy for anyone else who wanted to. So I'll amend my question, how long before you can get to them and get their response, then relay that response back to us?”
Spencer shrugged. “If I leave right now, I could probably talk to them within the next thirty minutes. There are only two that I really need to check with, and luckily they're both in the same office. If I can catch them together, we can be finished in a matter of minutes. They'll either say yea or nay, it's about that simple. Give me a number, and I can call you directly. All I'd have to say is something simple and harmless, like if I say that I'm really enjoying the weather, it means for you to come on, you're in.”
Sam grinned, then took out a pen and scribbled his number onto a slip of paper, which he passed to Spencer. “The sooner you can get moving on this, the better. I'd suggest you go now. That'll give us and Carlo the chance to get to know each other better, right, Carlo?”
The old priest looked up at Sam with a nervous smile on his face. “Mr. Prichard,” he said, his Italian accent adding a syllable here and there. “Please don't think that I am not willing to do anything I can to aid you in protecting our pontiff, but to be honest, this is all extremely overwhelming for a man of my years. How can I know, for instance, that you are who you say you are? How am I to know whether to trust you, or to keep you as far from His Holiness as I possibly can?” He clasped his hands together in front of his face and closed his eyes, and it was obvious that the movement of his lips was the subvocalization of a silent prayer. He continued silently for a full minute, as Spencer rose to leave, nodding to Sam and Indie as he departed. A moment later, Carlo finally opened his eyes, but he turned them to Indie rather than to Sam.
The old man's eyes bored into the young woman's, and she was slightly taken aback for just a moment. That didn't last long, however, because Indie was a strong young woman who had already been through a lot in her short life. She smiled at the old man and then reached over and put her hand on top of one of his.
“My dear young lady,” Carlos said to her, “it is as I pray that I believe God has shown me that there is a truth within you, a truth that is greater than that within your husband. This is not to say that he is not an honest man, only that he has lived and worked in situations that have required him to be able to dissemble when necessary. You, I sense, are a woman full of love, and full of hope and happiness. We know, from the thirteenth chapter of the first epistle to the Corinthians, that love is the greatest of all of the virtues. Love never fails. Though everything else may pass away, love never fails.” Carlo put his left hand over the one Indie had laid on his right. “And so it is that I must ask you, is this all true? Is it you and your husband, and those with you, whom I should trust?”
The old man's eyes never left Indie's, not even for a second. She smiled and looked as directly into them as she could. “Father Carlo,” she began, “this is the first time I have ever had to work with Sam on one of these missions, but if there's one thing I know for certain, it's that he is the most honest, trustworthy, loyal man that has ever lived. I left our daughter at home in America to come and help him here, because I know that what he is doing is the right thing to do. Yes, you can trust us, because we want the same thing that you do. We want to stop these things from happening, all of them, from this first attempt to assassinate the pope, all the way through to each of the most horrendous things this evil man dreamed up.”
Carlos smiled back. “Do you know,” he asked, “that there was a time when, despite everything the Bible taught me, I honestly believed that evil was nothing more than the selfishness of man. The whole concept of a personal devil, of a Satan who was an individual spirit that actively sought to destroy what God hath built, that concept was so foreign to me. Satan would've been part of God's creation, yes? How, then, could he have turned against his father, his creator, how could he seek to destroy the very race of mankind that God created to be his children?” The old man closed his eyes for a moment and raised his face toward the ceiling, as if looking through it with spiritual eyes that allowed him to see directly into heaven. A soft smile crept across his lips, and Indie found herself staring at him and wonder. “And so, I prayed for God to give me understanding, to help me to discern the spirit of evil, and do you know how He responded? God raised me up from where I served as the pastor of a very small church, and brought me to Rome. He installed me in the Vatican, and made me a helper and a student of all those who serve His Holiness, who strive to teach and interpret the Word and Will of God unto the church. In this place, where Holiness should abound and fill every corner, every little space, I have learned more about evil than in all the rest of my life, and in all of the places I have seen. Greed, jealousies, envy, falsehoods, even lusts have I seen among all of these Holy Brethren and the Holy Sisters who serve alongside them.”
Indie shrugged, then kept smiling at the old man. “I guess people are the same, no matter where you go. We're all human, and we all make mistakes, right? I think that a lot of what we think of as evil is really just a matter of people not understanding what it is they should do, not really being sure how to do it. For the most part, that doesn't mean that they're bad people, it just means they're human. But then, of course, you run across people like Chandler, people who are so evil that they don't care who they hurt or how badly, as long as they get what they want. That's all that matters to them, getting their way, getting everything to go the way they wanted to go.”
Sam leaned toward Carlo. “I can understand what you're saying,” he said. “I understand what Indie has been saying, too, that most of the time it isn't about real evil as much as it's about people just being selfish and greedy. That goes along with what you said, what you originally thought evil was. The thing is, it's become clear to me lately that there really is such a thing as pure evil, and while I may never have quite believed some of the Bible stories about demons being cast out, I can tell you that if I have ever in my life come face-to-face with a man who was possessed, it was Chandler. When I got the word that he was dead, as terrible as this sounds, I felt nothing but relief. The world is simply better off without him in it.”
Carlo had turned to look at Sam. “Indeed, I do understand. I do agree. I will put my trust in you, and I will pray to my Father in Heaven that he will lead you and guide you.” The old man rose to his feet. “I shall go now, and begin doing what I can do to find any clue that may help you. May God lead me to the person behind this awful plan, so that you may stop him from doing his deed, and thereby prevent even worse things from happening. You shall be in my prayers, both of you and all those with you.”
Carlo turned and walked away, leaving the little pizzeria with his head held high. Sam looked at his wife. “Think we ought to grab some pizza, take it back to the hotel with us? We may be sitting around for a while.”
Indie shook her head. “Those guys can get something to eat if they get hungry,” she said. “I've got a hunch that you're going to be hearing from Spencer pretty quickly, and we're closer to him here than we would be back at the hotel. If you're hungry now, then let's get something to eat, but I'm not.” She held up her glass and grinned at him. “But you could get me another glass of Chinotto.”
Sam took her glass and smiled, then rose and went to the little counter to get it refilled.
There were so many things going through his mind that he found himself wondering just how real this whole situation could be. Ancient prophecies, he was sitting in Rome, just outside the Vatican, talking with officials from inside the Holy See – the whole thing felt like he'd been caught up in a Dan Brown novel, but too many things had happened for him to believe that it was all in his imagi
nation. When Indie's glass had been refilled, he carried it back to the booth and sat down across from her again.
“I'm going to check in with Harry, real quick,” he said, taking his phone out of his pocket.
“Okay,” Indie said. “Tell the old goat I said hello.”
Sam punched the Elmer Fudd button on his phone, and waited for a moment while the international connection went through. Harry was still in the hospital in Jerusalem, of course, but Sam had hadn't spoken to him since he and Ken had left Israel.
“Sam? Is it you?”
“Harry, come on, now, who else would be calling you on my phone?” Sam asked with a laugh. “Just wanted to check in, let you know that we've made contact with some people in the Vatican and we're working on getting a lead on who we need to locate there.”
“Good, good,” the old man said. “I gather you've heard the news? About Chandler?”
“Yeah, Natasha called me yesterday as we were waiting for the plane to take off. Ken and I have been trying to figure out who the 'she' might be that he's referring to. Gary thinks it could be Sandra, but I'm not so sure.”
Sandra Ross, the current Secretary of State, is a highly manipulative and dangerous individual, and has been making a bid to become president of the United States one day. The mere thought of this was terrifying.
“This whole damn thing is so convoluted,” Harry said, “that I wouldn't be all that surprised to find my own mother involved in it somewhere.”
“Well, I just wanted to bring you up to date. Indie and I had an interesting meeting with a man from the office of the embassy to the Vatican, and an old priest who works in the pope's own household. Between the two, were hoping to get a lead on how Chandler's assassination plan was supposed to play out.
“Excellent! What's your plan of attack when you find out who to tackle there in Vatican City?”
“Well, my first step will probably be to try to reason with them, but that hasn't worked on anyone connected to it so far, has it? Harry, I don't want to kill anybody, if I can avoid it, but I'll be blunt and honest. If it's the only way to stop this plan from coming off, then I'll do what I have to do. Ken is all set, I think he's just waiting for me to turn him loose on somebody.”
“Well, that's kind of understandable,” Harry said, “when you consider that he has devoted his entire life to protecting this country by doing the jobs nobody else wants to do. To him, this is just the way you handle things, and it's probably chafing at him a bit that he has to let you hold the reins. Of course, that's one of the reasons I wanted you in charge, too.”
“Gee, thanks, Harry,” Sam said, sneering into the phone. “By the way, Indie said to tell you hello. When we get to figuring out what this is going to cost Uncle Sam, I think another expense paid trip to Europe might be in order. One we can use as a vacation, and be real tourists and sightseers for once.”
“Sam, you pull this off and I'll pay for it out of my own pocket if I have to! Hell, I might even pack up and come with you! Or would I be too much of a damper on your good spirits?”
Sam put the phone on speaker and looked at Indie. “Harry wants to know if he could come with us on a vacation to Europe, or if he put too much of a damper on us.”
Indie smiled, and took the phone from Sam's hand. “Harry? You old buzzard, if you want to take a trip with us, you're more than welcome. Just don't get all jealous and upset when I lock you out of the room now and then, so I can have Sam all to myself.”
Harry laughed heartily, and then groaned a couple of times when the laughing made him hurt. “I don't think there would be any problem there,” he said. “I think I can understand you kids wanting some privacy, now and then. I vaguely recall certain things about my younger days that might explain why you'd want them.”
Indie laughed. “Harry, you're not fooling anyone,” she said. “I'm pretty sure those memories aren't that far back. And if they are, then all you got to do is flirt with my mom or Grace a little bit—they both got the hots for you.”
“Okay, you're embarrassing me, now,” Harry said, but there was a chuckle in his voice. “Sam, I appreciate you keeping me up-to-date. If you need anything, and I mean anything at all, don't you hesitate to call. Doesn't matter what time of day or night, if you call, I'm going to answer.” The line went dead, the way it always did when Harry was finished talking on the phone.
Sam put the phone down on the table, and smiled at his wife. “Could be nice,” he said, “if we managed to wrangle ourselves a European vacation at Uncle Sam's expense.”
Indie reached across to hold hands with Sam. “Sam,” she said, seductively, “you don't really think Harry would try to come along with us, do you?”
Sam laughed. “Well, if he does, then we have to bring Kenzie along, too. The two of them can babysit each other.”
“Hmpf,” Indie said. “That would be a tossup on which one of them was really in charge.”
“No it wouldn't,” Sam said. “Kenzie would have Harry wrapped around her little finger in about eight seconds flat, and he'd be doing her bidding for the rest of the trip. The old man would probably spend most of his retirement savings just buying her all the goodies she wanted.”
They were both startled, suddenly, when Sam's phone rang again. He glanced at it, but didn't know the number. It was a local cell number, so he answered it quickly.
“Prichard,” he said.
“Mr. Prichard, it's John Spencer. I spoke with my two friends, and they've agreed to arrange for me to meet with His Holiness. I asked about bringing you with me, and they said they preferred that I speak to him alone at first. If he wants to meet with you, then they'll arrange it. I'll be meeting with him in about ten minutes. Sir, is there anything in particular you want me to say to him?”
“Well, we don't have any idea whether he knows who Chandler was, right? Assuming that he didn't, then I guess the best thing to do is simply try to explain to him what Chandler was up to. Spencer, do you feel like you understand it enough to explain it to the pope?”
“I've got the gist of it, sir,” Spencer said. “I think I can make him understand the general plot, and that seems to be the important part, don't you think? He needs to know that this whole convoluted plan involves everything from replacing him with some puppet of Chandler's, and from that, triggering a whole plethora of other troubles and disasters.”
“Yeah, that pretty much covers it. All right, how soon do you think you can let me know what happens?”
“Oh, I'd say you'll know pretty shortly. They're waving at me to come on, now, so I've got to get off the phone. I'll call you back as soon as I possibly can. Later, dude.” The line went dead.
Sam looked at Indie. “Well, you are partly right,” he said. “Spencer is on his way in to see the pope, right now. Hopefully, will have some response back from him pretty soon.”
Indie suddenly shivered, and looked at Sam. “Do you ever wonder,” she asked, “if maybe we've actually stepped into some twilight zone kind of thing, where devils romp around and prophecies come true?”
Sam shrugged. “Baby,” he said. “I think we were all born there.” He sat there and held her hand in silence for a few minutes.
After ten minutes had passed, Sam suddenly couldn't sit still anymore, and got up, pulling Indie along with him. Holding her hand, he led her out the front door of the restaurant and they began walking down the street.
“Sam?” Indie asked. “Where are we going?”
Sam glanced at her, and for some reason she felt a chill run down her spine. “I just felt like we had to get out of there,” he said. “I just couldn't sit there anymore, waiting. This whole thing could start at any moment, and we have no idea how to stop it. It's driving me up a wall, it's driving me crazy.”
Indie looked at her husband, and her heart went out to him. “I know,” she said. “It's getting to me, too. I feel like I'm sitting here twiddling my thumbs, wasting time, when I should be out doing something. I wonder if I should be sitting back at
the hotel, working with Gary on the computers, but he's so far beyond me, I don't know what I can do to be of help. I feel better, just being here with you. Is that selfish?”
Sam shrugged, but he smiled at her. “If it is, then we're both being selfish. I feel better, too, having you with me. I don't think I want to be tackling this without you, not right now.”
Sam's phone rang, and he pulled it out to see the same number he'd seen before. “It's Prichard,” he said.
“Mr. Prichard,” came Spencer's voice. “I am sitting here with His Holiness, the pope. I've explained what's going on, and he has asked me to express to you his gratitude for your efforts to preserve his life. He has asked the Commandant of the Swiss Guard to immediately secure the papal apartments, so that no one inside can leave, and of course, no one outside can come in. Every person who is employed in any capacity that allows them to get near the pontiff is being systematically rounded up at this moment, and a full investigation is being launched. Now, the idea isn't so much to catch the perpetrator, though, as to see who tries to take off. As it happens, the Commandant has special authority and connections with Italian government authorities, so it's highly unlikely that anyone on that list could get very far. All forms of public transportation are being put on restriction immediately, so that every passenger must produce identification and be checked against the list of names and photographs, all done through facial recognition computers when ever they go to buy a ticket.. In addition, no one can drive out of the country without going through a checkpoint. I suspect we'll have some idea of who it is we’re looking for within the next hour, and the Commandant has arranged for any suspects to be made available to you for questioning.”
Sam's eyes were wide, and he whistled. “Holy cow,” he said, “Spencer, that's incredible. Great job!”
“Aww, shucks, partner, I didn't do nothing!” Spencer said. “Seriously, sir, all I did was tell His Holiness what you told me, and he did the rest with a phone call. Oh, I hope it's okay, I did have to give your number to the Commandant. That's all right, isn't it?”