“Are you sure you’re all right?” She asked. “I could come back if you want to rest.”
“No,” I said quickly. “Don’t leave. I… I need you right now.”
She leaned back. “Need?”
I closed my eyes. Maybe if I couldn’t see her, this would be easier. “I fucked up, Helena. All this time I thought I had all the answers and knew what was best for me, you, the team, everyone. But I don’t.” I opened my eyes when Helena didn’t say anything, but all she did was lean in closer to hover only a foot above me. “You didn’t overreact. Not in the least. The past few months have changed a part me, and not for the better. I don’t like it, and it’s…”
I trailed off when I noticed how intently Helena was staring at me. Her eyes were sad and distant but their intensity threw me. I couldn’t interpret what the expression meant. I was about to continue when Helena thrust herself at me and pressed her lips against mine, much as I did to her all those months ago. The shock wore off quickly and I found myself struggling to move my hand into her hair as she continued to work her lips lovingly against mine. I failed and the sound of my arm slapping against the table surprised Helena into pulling away.
“Oh, I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”
I gazed up at her lovely face and wonderful green eyes and smiled. “Of course not. I’m just a little surprised.”
“I know,” she said meekly. “Me too, but I couldn’t help myself.”
“You couldn’t help yourself, now??” I asked with a weak smile. “When my face looks like I twelve rounds with Rocky?”
She smiled. “It’s not your face that made me kiss you, Jacob, but what you said. I’ve felt you pulling away for months now, placing more and more burdens upon yourself and slowly pushing me away. What you said before you left about not needing me hurt.” She looked at me almost angrily now as she relived the memory. “I didn’t want to accept where that comment came from, but it had become difficult not to.”
I glanced at Santino again to make sure he was still asleep. Our conversation was becoming increasingly personal and I didn’t want him overhearing us. Luckily, he still seemed out cold. I turned back to Helena and frowned. “Helena I’m still the man I was before. Just…”
“No you’re not. You’re darker, more selfish, and more introspective, but not in a good way. It’s become obsessive. I can understand not coming to me, but you’ve neglected even your best friend.” She pointed at Santino. “I can count the number of conversations you’ve had with him over the past winter on one hand. You never go to him for help or advice, and you know damn well it’s not always that bad. Why do you think he volunteered to go with you and Agrippina?”
I didn’t have an answer.
“Because he’s your brother! The story you told me about what happened in North Korea forced it on you two, and you should be grateful for that shithole because of it. But he’s just as worried about your recklessness as I am and wanted to keep an eye on you.”
“How do you know that? Did he tell you?”
“He didn’t have to, Jacob,” she said softly. “I know.”
“So why now?”
“Because I care for you, Jacob. I have for a very long time. I want to be with you and be there for you. When I saw you on that cross I was horrified. I couldn’t believe how close I came to losing you. ”
I stared at the ceiling, the memory of my torture the only thing I could focus on despite Helena’s loving words. “They were crucifying me, Helena. Crucifying.”
“I know,” she said, her tone shifting dourly. “When I came in and saw you and Santino hanging there, I couldn’t believe it. Seeing it actually happen… it’s hard to believe.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I’m sorry. I can only imagine how painful it must have been.”
“I really doubt it.” I took a deep breath. “I’m just glad it’s over.”
“So am I,” another voice chimed in, interrupting us, “and I am extremely happy to see you awake.”
As the voice came closer, I looked to my right to see Vincent approach and stand opposite Helena. He looked down. “How are you feeling, son?”
“Better,” I answered. “Come to give me my last rights?”
He smiled. “No.”
As I lay there, looking up at him, an epiphany sparked in my head. It was as though I had finally figured out this nagging feeling I’d had about him since we first arrived here. I didn’t know why, maybe it was the drugs, but something in his expression and mannerism just screamed at me, triggered by how he had called me, “son.”
I turned my head, and studied his face. “You’re not a priest, are you?”
Vincent straightened while Helena shifted her look towards him, a confusion spreading across her face. He stood there for only a few seconds before he crossed his arms, and looked at me. His face suggested he was trying to find the best way to answer and he shifted his feet and looked at the floor.
“What gave me away?” He replied, looking up with his eyes.
I heard a sharp intake of breath from Helena, just slightly more surprised than I was. I met his eyes before responding.
“I’ve had my suspicions for a while, to be honest, but it wasn’t until just now that I confirmed it. The way you called me “son” and not “my son” did it. You’ve done it before, but maybe my drugged up state has given me some advanced powers of observation, but the way you said it just clicked. The fact you’ve never insisted on presiding over Mass on Sundays didn’t help much, either.”
“There’s just no fooling you, is there?”
I shrugged, immediately regretting it.
“Well… you’re right. I am no priest. I’ve spent my entire life since leaving the Swiss military in the Pope’s Swiss Guard, and I’ve spent more time in the Vatican than I have anywhere else. The Pope himself suggested the idea that we have a member of the clergy on the team, and he wanted me ordained, but I told him no.” He sighed. “I’ve felt lots of things in my life, but never the calling to become a priest. Pope Gregory understood the sentiment, himself not having felt the call until somewhat later in his life. Instead, knowing I was the most experienced and willing man for the post, he gave me his blessing to assume the role, to act as a symbol and a reminder of who and what we were working for.” He stopped himself, and looked at the floor again. “I guess there’s no need to keep pretending then, is there? Ancient Rome has no need for Catholic priests. Especially phony ones.”
“That doesn’t exactly sound like something a pope would just allow,” I said, skeptically.
“Desperate situations call for desperate answers, Jacob. Not many priests are fit for military duty.”
“So, why didn’t you go through with it?” Helena asked.
He looked thoughtful as he glanced at her, his look lingering ever so slightly. “I think it’s because I still want to have a family of my own, one day. I’m not that old, you know.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” I asked.
He sighed. “At eighteen our convictions are a hill from which to look out from, at forty five they are a cave in which to hide.”
I squinted. “Hemingway?”
“Fitzgerald,” Helena answered for him with a smirk. “F. Scott.”
I returned the look. “Smart ass.”
Vincent smiled at us. “Were I a younger man, I may have come out with it, but time slows us down. Helps us think. Makes us patient. Hell,” he paused, suddenly taking a moment to ponder his next thought. After an awkward moment, he continued, “Hell, were I a younger man, I may have taken my vows. Either way, it seemed best to keep my cover locked in a cave until you figured it out for yourself.”
“Seems this outfit is full of surprises,” I said. “What’s next? Is Santino really a cross dresser?”
“I heard that,” said a weak and raspy voice, “and could you keep it down? I’m trying to sleep.”