The Guardian

by ROBBIE CHEUVRONT

  “Hale, what’s going on, man? Is this serious?”

  “Vin is dead. They were ambushed. I was able to take out one of them.”

  “Why didn’t you call us?”

  “No time. I hit the other guy, but he got away. I don’t think they’ll be back in the near future, but they will be back. You need to get Anna and Jason out. I’ll catch up with you later. I gotta go, man. Gotta call in. Get them out of here.”

  Hale pushed the END button and waited for the screen to clear. Next, he pushed the speed dial button, number three. There was a buzzing sound on the other end, a few clicks, and then a ring. After a few seconds, the line on the other end clicked, then a series of beeps. It was the prompt he was waiting for.

  “This is Agent six, four, three, three, one, requesting secure line.”

  There were a few more clicks, another buzz, a dial tone, and then a series of rings. Finally, the call connected. He waited until he heard the voice on the other line answer.

  “Hello?”

  “Who is this?” Hale didn’t recognize the voice.

  “Who is this? You’re calling a secure line here.”

  “This is Agent William Hale. This line is reserved for the pope. Again, I have to ask: Who is this?”

  “I’m sorry, Agent Hale. The pope has taken ill. I have taken charge of all his business. You can speak with me. This is Secretary of State Cardinal Louis Wickham.”

  CHAPTER 25

  Oloron-Sainte-Marie, Train Station

  Jason relied on his familiarity with the city to make it to the train station unseen, taking back alleys and staying away from the main streets. He bought the tickets and kept Anna out of sight. Thankfully, the train was on time for once. They jumped on the last car and took a seat in the last row. As the train pulled out of the station, Jason breathed a sigh of relief. They hadn’t been killed. Yet. And he still didn’t know what was going on. All he knew was he was here, with Anna, and they were headed for a plane.

  Anna hadn’t said much of anything since they left the church. That was all right, Jason thought. He knew she was shaken. And he should be. By all things normal, he should be scared to death and running as far away as he could get. Yet for some reason he wasn’t. Somehow he knew he needed to be here.

  He nudged Anna’s arm. “You okay?”

  Anna turned slowly to face him, her face blank. “No.” She buried her head in her hands rocking back and forth.

  Jason didn’t know what to do. He slowly reached his arm around her shoulder and squeezed. “It’s going to be all right, Anna. We’re safe now. Your friend back at the church said he would take care of everything.”

  Anna lifted her head. “What do you mean we? You’re not involved in this.”

  Jason withdrew his arm. “I’d say I’m pretty involved! I’m here, aren’t I?”

  Anna took a deep breath and let it out again. “Look, I appreciate you helping me get out of there. I really do. But you have no idea what’s going on here. Heck, I barely do! I’ve only been doing this for a couple of days, and already I’ve been chased halfway around the world and shot at! There’s no way you can get involved in this.”

  Jason didn’t have a response to what Anna had just told him. He only knew that, from now on, he was going to be a part of whatever all of this was. “I need to tell you something.”

  Anna wiped the tears from her eyes and looked at him.

  “Your friend Hale told me who you are.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He told me you are a descendant of the disciple John. Now, that in and of itself is extraordinary. But he also told me a little bit about that box.”

  Anna’s eyes got big. She pulled the box closer to her and held on tight.

  Jason saw her reaction. He shifted in his seat to put some room between them. “I have no desire to take that box, or anything in it, away from you. You can trust me. What I wanted to tell you was this.” He took a long breath and blew it out slowly. “A long time ago, I gave my life to Jesus Christ. When God gave me a new heart, it completely took me over. I’ve been made fun of, lost friends, had relationships dissolve—all because I’ve tried to be obedient to what He calls me to do. And a few years ago, through a lot of prayer and asking for God’s leading, He led me here. For two years I’ve been sitting in that room teaching little French kids English, waiting for God to show me why. All I knew is that God had me here for some reason. And I’ve felt it, deep within me, that that reason is something big. And I know this sounds ridiculous, but I believe that this is the reason.”

  Anna let out a long string of air. Shaking her head, she stood up. “I—I can’t handle this right now. I need to think.” She walked to the front of the car and sat down in an empty seat. The box was tucked safely under her arm.

  She couldn’t think straight. Her head was pounding from a headache she’d gotten in the last ten minutes. Her stomach was doing flip-flops. She couldn’t stop shaking. And the tears. Just when she thought she couldn’t cry any more, they came billowing out again.

  She sat there, going over it all from the beginning. None of this made sense. If God wanted her to do this, she needed answers. She had no idea where to go or what to do. She rested her elbows on her knees and covered her face with her hands. She let out a low whisper, “Please, God, tell me what to do.”

  “Anna.”

  Anna lifted her head and saw the boy sitting beside her. Everyone else on the train had disappeared. “Hello, boy,” she said, scrubbing tears away with the palm of her hand.

  The boy smiled. “Once again, He has sent me to talk to you. Your task must certainly be important. He’s showing you a lot of attention.”

  “Could’ve fooled me,” she said. “I haven’t got a clue as to what’s going on.”

  The boy looked at her intently. “You have to have faith. I promise you, He is with you every step you take.”

  “Yeah, you keep saying that, but right now I couldn’t feel more lost.”

  “Anna, Father Vin has come home.”

  Poor Father Vin. She’d barely gotten to know him, but he’d become special to her so quickly. Her lifeline. It didn’t seem right that he should be dead. The tears started up again.

  The boy smiled compassionately, but a deep joy shone from his eyes. “Please don’t cry. Vin is with our Lord. You should be happy for him. His service on this earth will be greatly rewarded.”

  “Well, that’s just perfect! What am I supposed to do now? He was the only one around here who knew what was going on. I can’t do this by myself!”

  “You don’t have to,” the boy said. “Jason is here now. He is to take Father Marcella’s place.”

  “What? Him? I don’t even know him!”

  “You didn’t know Father Vin either,” the boy reminded her.

  Anna was on her feet now, pacing back and forth. “I don’t care. At least Father Vin has been doing this for the last … however long!” She threw her arms up. “This guy doesn’t have a clue. I mean, I’ve got more experience in it than him! That doesn’t say much!”

  The boy blocked her path, facing her. “He’s been groomed for this assignment since he was thirteen. The Father put the two of you together for a reason. Trust your instincts, Anna. You know what Jason told you is the truth. You can feel it. So go. Go with him. Together you will figure it out.”

  Anna closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. When she opened them again, the boy was gone. Everyone was back on the train. Jason still sat in the backseat looking at her with compassion and sympathy.

  She picked up the box and returned to her seat beside Jason. She wiped the tears away from her eyes again and shifted in her seat to look at him. “Okay. Let’s get one thing straight. I’m in charge. What I say goes, or you go. Got it?”

  Jason grinned. “Got it!”

  CHAPTER 26

  The Vatican

  Cardinal Wickham hung up the phone. The press secretary had just given him the latest briefing. Once word got ou
t that the pope was bedridden, the calls came like a flood. He gave the press secretary his statement, assuring them all that the pope was just suffering from a bout with the flu and should be up and about soon.

  He could barely hide his excitement. With the pope being as sick as he’d become so unexpectedly, he should be running around showing nervous energy, trying to calm the rest of the Vatican. Instead, here he was sitting in the papal business office sipping a warm cappuccino. The next few days would bring lots of excitement. He deserved a little break from the activity.

  The pope was gone. Well, not yet, but soon. He’d been careful. The doctors, just as he presumed, diagnosed the pope’s condition as an abnormal strain of flu. This couldn’t be going any better. As long as the doctors continued to treat him for this condition, everything would work out exactly as he’d planned.

  He almost felt like putting the pope’s robes on and parading around the hallways. After all, who would stop him? In a few days, he would be the most powerful man in all of Rome. Even more powerful than the pope. As long as everything went as planned, the new pope would be Joseph, and he had Joseph in the palm of his hand.

  What would be the first thing he would do with all of his newfound power?

  A jarring buzz interrupted his thoughts. First thing he’d do is hire an army of receptionists to handle the incessant phone calls. He flipped open his cell phone. “Yes?”

  “We’ve got a problem.”

  Jonathan. Of course. Seemed the only thing he was capable of assassinating was a good mood. “What do you mean we’ve got a problem?”

  “Well, one of my guys is dead, I’ve been shot, and the girl got away.” Jonathan’s statement showed no emotion. Just the facts.

  “What do you mean, she got away?”

  “Thanks for your concern about me and my guy.”

  “I don’t care about you or your heathen employees. I hired you to do a job. Obviously, I made a mistake. Where is my scroll?”

  “You’re gonna get it!” Jonathan shouted back. “I’ve just had a setback. They had someone watching them. I made a mistake. I underestimated them. It won’t happen again. You can be sure of it.”

  Wickham was breathing heavily now. His blood pressure was up, he was sure. “I’m growing tired of your excuses, Jonathan. Either get it done or I will be forced to conclude that your services are no longer required. Get me my scroll!”

  He was still holding the phone out in front of him when he heard a strange beeping sound. He’d never heard it before. He didn’t even say good-bye to Jonathan. He just hung up, slamming the earpiece shut on his cell phone. The beeping continued. He followed the sound. It was coming from the pope’s private office—the small private room within the main office.

  He turned the knob. Unlocked. He had only been in here on a couple of occasions. Typically, when he and the pope met, they would do their business out in the main office. This room was, for the most part, off-limits.

  He walked to the desk and found the source of the beeping—a phone in a desk drawer. “Hello?”

  “Who is this?” asked a male voice.

  “Who is this? You’re calling a secure line here.”

  “This is Agent William Hale. This line is reserved for the pope. Again, I have to ask: Who is this?”

  He had often wondered about this. He knew that Thomas Riley and the agents had direct contact with Pope Paul. He just couldn’t ever figure out how. Now he knew.

  “Of course, Agent Hale.” He smiled a big smile. Things were looking up after all. “The pope has taken ill. I have taken charge of all his business. You can speak with me. This is Secretary of State Cardinal Louis Wickham.”

  “I’m sorry, Cardinal Wickham,” Hale said, “but what I have to say is for the pope’s ears only.”

  Cardinal Wickham pulled the pope’s big leather chair out from under the desk and sat down. “That’s going to be a problem. It seems that Pope Paul has become suddenly ill. He has developed a rare case of the flu. The doctors are doing everything they can, but I’m afraid it doesn’t look good.”

  Wickham paused and listened to the silence on the other end of the line. He knew why the agent was calling. Somehow he needed to befriend him, get the agent to trust him. This was his chance to get a personal link to Anna and the scroll. “How bad is it?” Hale asked.

  “Our official position is he’ll be fine in a couple of days, but I’m afraid it may be worse than they originally thought.”

  “I see.”

  Wickham needed to get the agent to open up. This was going to be difficult. “Tell me, Agent Hale. Does this call have anything to do with a certain young lady? Perhaps someone you are in charge of looking after?”

  The line went silent.

  “It’s okay, son. As I told you before, I am the pope’s secretary of state. I know all of his business. You can talk to me about it. His Holiness immediately informed me of your situation when he took ill. He was afraid that, if something were to happen, no one would be able to look after you, if needed.” Again the line was silent for a few seconds. He could almost hear the wheels turning inside the agent’s head. “I really cannot help you, Agent Hale, unless you tell me what is going on.”

  Finally, the agent spoke. “I know who you are, Cardinal Wickham. I’m afraid I still cannot tell you what this call is regarding. If you would, though, please pass along a message for me. Tell the pope, when he recovers, my team and I will be code three for the next few days, perhaps weeks. We’ve had a situation, and we will be regrouping. I’ll make contact again as soon as I can. Thank you.”

  The line went dead. Louis placed the receiver back in its cradle. He had no idea what code three was. He could assume, given the conversation with Jonathan. Obviously, Agent Hale and his team were going into hiding. This would be a perfect opportunity to do some planning. He had to speak to the pope.

  He left the office and headed for the papal apartment. On the way, he pulled out his cell phone and called Jonathan. He didn’t like making these kinds of calls where someone could overhear, but this was important. He needed to tell Jonathan about Agent Hale’s call.

  He was finishing his conversation as he approached the door to the pope’s room. He closed the phone and nodded to the Swiss guard as he entered. The guard quickly acknowledged him. He was the second highest official in the hierarchy, after all. Next to the pope, he was probably the most known figure in all of Vatican City.

  He walked over to where the pope lay and placed a hand on the sick man’s shoulder. A doctor, two nurses, and the pope’s personal assistant were all in the room. Wickham asked if they would all give him and the pope a minute of personal time. He said he needed to discuss a matter of extreme importance. Everyone nodded and stood to leave. The doctor explained that he would need to give the pontiff another round of antibiotics in a few minutes. Wickham assured him that he would be quick.

  Wickham walked everyone to the door and closed it behind them. He turned the latch to the dead bolt lock. Pouring two cups of tea from the kettle on the bedside table, he reached inside his pocket and brought out the vial that contained the untraceable liquid. He unscrewed the top and let two drops fall into one of the mugs. He took a spoon and stirred the mixture. It was the third time in as many days. The poison, just as he was told, was doing its job. And the best part was that no one was the wiser. As far as anyone knew, Pope Paul VII had the flu.

  He took a seat beside the bed and grabbed a hand towel that had been sitting next to the teakettle. He wiped the sweat from the pope’s brow. Pope Paul VII slowly opened his eyes. A faint smile formed on his lips.

  “Louis,” he wheezed. “So good to see you. How is everything, my friend?”

  “Everything is fine, Your Holiness.” Wickham set the towel back on the table. “How are you feeling today?”

  “I’m afraid, not too good.” He coughed. “I’ve never felt like this with the flu.”

  “Yes, the doctor says it’s a very rare strain. I’m sure you’ll be back o
n your feet in a couple of days. Here, drink this. It will make you feel better.” He handed him the mug of tea.

  The pope took the hot mug and sipped it. “This is very good tea, Louis. Did you make it?”

  “No.” He chuckled. “I’m afraid I can’t take credit for it. I think one of the nurses made it for you. I’ll be sure and tell her how much you like it.”

  “Yes, do that. Very good tea, indeed. So, did you come just to visit? I’m sure that there is something important you could be doing. No use wasting your time sitting with a sick old man.” He tried to laugh, which led to another coughing fit.

  “Actually, Your Holiness, I did come here on business.” He sat up in his seat and tried to look as innocent as he could. “I was in your office a little while ago. I needed to get some order form for something.” He waved his hand, as if dismissing what he’d just said. “While I was in there, the gray phone in your desk rang.” He waited for a reaction. Just as he thought, the pope immediately took interest.

  Pope Paul VII sat up a little bit. He had a concerned look on his face. “I’m not sure what phone you’re talking about, Louis. Gray phone?”

  “Yes, you know. The one sitting on your desk. In your private study. It looks just like the one in your prayer room over there.” Wickham pointed to the closed door across the way.

  “Oh, that one.” Pope Paul tried to act as if it were nothing.

  “I went ahead and answered it since I was in there. I mean, you are obviously not in any kind of shape to be receiving calls. I thought it may be important. So I answered it.”

  “You did?”

  “Anyway, an Agent Hale called to tell you that he and his team will be—what did he say?” He moved his hand in a circle, as if trying to recall. “Ah yes. Code three? I believe that’s what it was. Yes. Code three.”