Bonasero nodded and listened, consuming everything with avid interest.
“But he is the secretary of the state,” he added. “So we could not deny him what he requested to know.”
There was no doubt in Bonasero’s mind that Cardinal Angullo was grooming himself to be omniscient in worldly affairs. He also knew Angullo to be overly ambitious to fulfill his needs to achieve greater heights within the church’s hierarchy. The man was politically skillful in negotiations, quick with his wit and articulated well with a sharp tongue. In a power grab he also maneuvered himself to usurp Bonasero’s position as secretary of state; better positioning him to the papal post should it become vacant, which it had six months after the last Electoral vote.
And in that short tenure while Gregory reigned, Cardinal Angullo learned the secrets of the Church and placed himself in a position to know everything, should he happen to take the papal throne.
Cardinal Bonasero found the whole scenario disturbing, however. The power of the Church was squarely within Angullo’s grasp and his power would have no boundaries, should he be chosen.
Bonasero took a step closer to the screens, the view of the Middle East and Northern Africa as clear as peering out an unblemished window, as his mind continued to roil with the thoughts of Angullo possibly garnering the papal post. What he couldn’t let go of was the fact that there was something deeply hidden, if not forever buried, that Cardinal Angullo ambitions to succeed the throne outweighed his moral compass, and even considered that the cardinal’s ambitions had become so paramount that the life of Pope Gregory was snuffed out by the cardinal’s committing hand.
Letting a sigh escape, Bonasera closed his eyes with the realization that corruption within the Church was not just a pre- or medieval constitution, but a conviction of a black soul who was convinced that their actions were for the overall good.
And Bonasero prayed that this was not the case, hoping above hope that Pope Gregory’s death was truly a mishap rather than the dark machinations of a lost soul.
He washed the thought away and turned toward the screen, reminiscing of a time when he used to view and direct the Vatican Knights to the hot spots around the world to save countless lives. And then he wondered how many souls were lost due to the refusal of the Church to send forth a unit to protect the citizenry of the Church within the past six months.
Under further consideration it was amazing to the cardinal how one man had the power to change the lives of so many with a single command or wish, each thought directed by the convictions of what Pope Gregory believed to be right or wrong, good or evil.
And then his consideration went one step further: How many people died over the past six months under the pope’s tenancy when they could have been saved?
As he stepped closer to the visual on the mounted wall screen, Cardinal Bonasero Vessucci could only wonder.
“Tell me—” said the cardinal, pointing to the live feed “—why you are observing the Temple Mount.”
Fathers Essex and Auciello joined the cardinal by his side, the men focusing on the actions playing out before them.
Father Auciello answered in his usual stately manner. “You have been gone for too long, my friend,” he said. “If you were still secretary of state, then you would have a live team in place.”
“Are lives in jeopardy?”
“No,” said Auciello. “But we are getting invalidated reports through encrypted codes from Mossad that the true Ark of the Covenant may be in the possession of an al-Qaeda faction.”
Bonasero appeared astonished. “The Ark of the Covenant? At the Temple Mount? Has it always been there?”
“We’re still trying to determine that. But all indications are that the Covenant was located in an uncharted chamber approximately a half kilometer to the east.”
“And how did it come into the hands of al-Qaeda?”
“Again: we don’t know for sure. Everything is just speculation at this point. But Mossad seems to be very active at the location we’re now watching.”
Bonasero Vessucci remained riveted in his stance, his eyes cast forward, watching. If Pope Gregory did not disband the Vatican Knights, then there was no doubt that they, along with established members of the SIV, would be onsite gleaning information rather than speculating from satellite feeds and encrypted notes. “Al-Qaeda will use it for nefarious purposes only — we know that. It’s an interest of the Church to be shared by all, not just the Church itself.” He then turned to Fathers Essex and Auciello. “Is the Camerlengo acting on this?”
Auciello nodded. “No,” he said. “He’s more focused on the pope’s burial and the upcoming election.”
“As well he should be.”
“And we haven’t enough data to support the need to act. And even if we did,” he added dolefully, “we know longer have the resources to intervene.”
The cardinal turned back to the movements on the screen, the people milling about on an obvious hot and dry day. Auciello was right, he considered. The Vatican Knights were the only true resource to act on behalf of the Church in affairs of war and battle, in which the lines drawn were not specifically done so at the Vatican door. Most interests were in foreign lands with diplomatic ties which were well beyond the reach of the Church, some halfway around the world. Now that the value of the Knights had been cast to the wind, there was little or no salvation beyond Vatican City for those with the most need.
Furthermore, al-Qaeda was a faction of opportunity. If they truly were in possession of the Ark, then they would capitalize in such a way that would subsidize terrorist campaigns for years to come. How they would benefit was the question that lingered in the cardinal’s mind. But they were talking about al-Qaeda.
And al-Qaeda would find a way.
“Bonasero?” Father Essex sounded almost contrite. “If I may be candid.”
“Of course.”
“Since the times of Pope Gregory and Cardinal Angullo, we have been somewhat revoked to act accordingly.”
Bonasero Vessucci understood. Without the Vatican Knights to act upon pertinent information that may prove detrimental to the assets and interests of the Church, or to its citizenry, then there was no point in having the SIV other than to convey rudimentary intelligence.
“I hear you,” he said, and then he ushered them away from the Jesuits once again. When they were in the pooling shadows with minimal light cast from the screens, Cardinal Vessucci spoke to them with open objectiveness. “As you know, I am impotent to act in the manner deemed necessary by my station.”
“Then perhaps you’ll elevate to the next level, so that you can.”
“It’s not a secret that I’m seeking the papal throne. But Cardinal Angullo is a formidable candidate who seeks the throne as strongly as I do.”
“Should Angullo succeed the throne, others will suffer due to the Church’s inability to protect them. So tell me, Bonasero, if you take the papal throne, do you plan to bring back the Vatican Knights?”
There was a moment of hesitation, and then he nodded, a single bob of the head. “It would be my wish to do so,” he answered. “But the good Cardinal Angullo would stand in the way, since he refuses to see their necessity in the scheme of things. If al-Qaeda is truly in the possession of the Ark, then we need to react before such a treasure is lost forever — or before it’s used in ways not meant to be.”
“I hear his camp has weakened,” said Essex.
“But still formidable. Remember, gentlemen, he has strength by being the secretary of state and as Pope Gregory’s close friend. Those two facts alone make my journey a difficult one to achieve.”