As children he recognized the fact that as children they had to engage in recreation. Often he would take them to the fields to play fútbol, only to top it off with a trip into Rome for gelato. They had always been high-spirited youths, happy. Joshua had always been the biggest and held the highest degree of machismo, always asserting himself with posturing to be first and foremost. Of the three Job was the most gregarious, always quick with a joke. But in the arena there was no question that he was the most competitive who possessed the need to win at all costs, even if that cost was personal sacrifice. Ezekiel was the workhorse who trained hours on end to be better, stronger and faster than the rest. Slow to develop, Kimball spent numerous hours with him so that the future Knight could exceed his own expectations. With indefatigable effort, Ezekiel fell and rose to every occasion, learning that success always came with struggle.
And now it had all come down as a horrible and final curtain call, Kimball thought. Two lives were gone and a third was about to be snuffed out, if he had his way.
On occasion, tours are offered into the depths of Necropolis. On this day, however, the ‘City of the Dead’ was quiet.
Kimball took the steps quietly, the Smith & Wesson firmly within his grasp.
Above him incandescent bulbs glowed feebly, making his intrusion less than stealthy.
At the bottom of the steps sat the Tomb of the Egyptians.
Kimball stopped and listened.
Nothing.
Another step downward, closer to the tomb, the point of his weapon directed to kill. Within meters he knew the assassin lay in wait.
And then he realized that he was the ‘T’ in Iscariot.
Within his vision he saw one of many sarcophaguses within the tomb. And then he saw the cardinal sitting beneath the ancient portrait of Horus, God of the Dead.
The Vatican Knight reestablished his grip on his firearm.
The owl-eyed cardinal remained still, but was not bound or gagged.
Kimball finally hit the landing to the Tomb of Egyptians.
And then from his left a Chinese star flew silently through the air with amazing precision and struck Kimball’s weapon, the firearm knocked from his hand and to the floor. In reaction he reached for the pistol.
“Don’t,” ordered a voice.
Kimball froze, knowing the lethal accuracy of the assassin’s ability.
“Well, well, well. Leave it to you to come to a knife fight with a gun,” the assassin said.
He stepped forward, from Kimball’s left, a Chinese star within his hand.
Kimball turned, his face a mask of controlled rage, and watched the assassin place the star within a secured pocket.
“You are, and will be, the ‘T’ in Iscariot,” he told him.
Kimball squared off with the assassin and clenched his fists at his sides. “I cared for you like a son,” he said.
Ezekiel made his way toward the cardinal with a feigned smile, his eyes cautiously fixed on Kimball. “The truth, Kimball, is that you only cared for yourself,” he stated evenly. “The only reason why I was chosen to be a Vatican Knight was so that you could pacify your feelings of guilt. Isn’t that so?”
“I gave you a chance!”
“At what? To serve you after you murdered my grandfather?”
“I gave you a chance!”
Ezekiel halted and stood his ground. His eyes focused on Kimball with a steely gaze. Then in manner that was calmly forced, he said, “You murdered my grandfather and left me without family.”
“Your grandfather went too far against forces he should not have opposed. He was becoming a threat to democracy.”
Ezekiel cocked his head. “A threat to democracy? My grandfather was democracy!”
Now it was Kimball’s turn to force calm. “Senator Cartwright became a wayward politician whose power grew too much for him to handle. He threatened senators and congressmen in both Houses with career-ending blackmail if they did not support his agendas deemed critically dangerous to the sovereignty of the United States.”
Ezekiel couldn’t help the surfacing smile. “And here you are,” he began, “standing before me as a Vatican Knight justifying the act of murder.”
“I was under orders by my superiors at the time to eliminate a valid threat.”
“So that makes it all right?”
Kimball hesitated. And then: “No… No, it doesn’t.”
Ezekiel began to pace once again, never turning his back on Kimball. “I was only six,” he said. “And I remember quite vividly when you entered the estate and killed my grandfather. I was hiding inside a cupboard, remember? And then I heard my grandfather say that he created you… and that the monster had finally returned to kill its creator. It was the last thing I heard my grandfather say before you opened the door to the cupboard. And it was then that I saw him lying against the desk with his throat cut. I’m sure you remember that moment, don’t you?”
Kimball did not answer, believing the question to be rhetorical.
“Instead of following through with protocol by eliminating me, you allowed me to live. And with some semblance of humanity you caressed my cheek as if to say that the murder of my grandfather would somehow pass into obscurity, and that all would be forgiven and forgotten.”
“You were just a child.”
“And as all children do, they grow to become men.” Then in a manner that resonated like admonishment, he said, “You should have killed me along with my grandfather, as you were ordered to do. Now your past has caught up with you, Kimball. And in your case, it has… I am now the monster who has returned to kill its creator. Just as you have betrayed my grandfather, I have now come back to betray you… I am your Judas Iscariot. And I will destroy you.”
Kimball began to pace with agitation and grace. “You can try,” he said.
Ezekiel matched Kimball’s actions, the men pacing in concert like mirror images.
“By failing to follow protocol and allowing me to live, it will cost you your life.”
“Ezekiel, maybe I failed you, granted. But I tried to give you what your grandfather obviously couldn’t give you, which was a good life.”
“And there we have it,” he said. “I was nothing more to you than a pet project to help appease whatever guilt you were feeling at the time.”
Kimball took on a quizzical look.
“Don’t look at me like that,” said Ezekiel. “I’m not stupid. I know about the two boys you killed in Iraq during an operation, and how that moment became an epiphany for you to seek salvation.”
Their pace quickened, each matching the others actions by moving to and fro like caged animals whose tensions were mounting with every pass.
“I recognized you immediately the moment you entered the boy’s home. I never forgot your face. In fact, I thought you came back to finish the job, until I saw the cardinal.”
“I wanted to help you,” he said.
“You wanted to save me because you were ridden with guilt! You didn’t want to help me! You wanted to save me because you couldn’t save those boys. And by saving me you were saving yourself! I was nothing more to you than someone who could fill that gaping hole in your life that was crammed full of despair and regret. I became your act of redemption! I became the child who could save you! Admit it!”
Kimball sighed. “Perhaps in the beginning, yes, I agree. But over time you became so much more, Ezekiel. Of the three, I became closer to you than I did with Job or Joshua.”