“Damn that girl. She’s more headstrong than her mother, God rest her soul. What can she possibly be thinking? Where is she going?”
“You know where she’s going,” Alex said.
Lev hung his head and walked slowly back into the bridge. Yes, he knew where she was going.
Chapter 40
Focused beams of particle-filled sunlight passed through windows set high above, casting shadows onto the polished marble floor from the statues that lined the hallway in this section of the Vatican. Cardinal Marcus Lundahl was walking quickly, his black and scarlet cassock flowing behind him over the cool, smooth surface of the wide corridor. His assistant followed behind, almost running to keep pace with Lundahl’s long strides.
Arriving in front of a single elevator, the two stepped inside and faced the closing mirror-like doors. Twenty feet away, two Vatican security men dressed in black suits were running toward the elevator and waving for them to wait. Instinctively, Emilio reached his hand out to prevent the sliding doors from closing. Lundahl swatted the priest’s hand aside, never taking his gaze away from the approaching men as the doors came together before the suits arrived. Inside, Emilio cast a sideways glare at the cardinal as the two descended into the bowels of the Vatican in silence.
The elevator stopped at the very bottom level, where the cardinal exited into yet another long hallway that led off to his right. Emilio followed along behind until they reached the thick glass entrance of the security complex, the Vatican’s equivalent of a police command center.
Opening the door, an older man with a short-cropped military-style haircut stood aside for the cardinal. He was the same man Leo had seen with the cardinal the day Morelli died. The man’s name was Francois Leander. Swiss by birth, he was also the chief of security for the Vatican. “Good morning, Cardinal.”
Francois glanced down the long hallway behind the cardinal and saw the two men in suits bolt from a stairway and begin running toward them.
“We’ve had a serious security breach, Francois,” Lundahl said. He turned and watched the men running in their direction. “I want you to seal this facility immediately. Let no one in or out.”
“Yes, sir. Right away.”
Lundahl then shifted his gaze to his assistant. “Emilio, you can go now. I don’t think I’ll be needing you anymore today.”
“But… Your Excellency, I…”
Francois opened the center’s bulletproof glass door and gestured toward the hallway. Emilio looked pleadingly into the eyes of the cardinal. “We have a full schedule today, Eminence, and-”
“Thank you, Emilio, but we don’t have time to argue.” The security chief now had his hand on Emilio’s chest and literally pushed the priest back through the doorway. He slammed the heavy glass door shut just as the two security men reached the enclosure. The look on Emilio’s face changed from quizzical to pure fury. The men in suits banged on the door and shouted, demanding to be admitted. Their features were contorted in rage, knowing their shouts could not be heard behind the thick glass.
Francois smiled at the cardinal before they turned their backs on the scene outside and headed for the communications section of the complex. “I don’t know why you kept that disgusting little spy of a man around you for as long as you did, Cardinal.”
The cardinal stopped and put his hand on the chief’s shoulder. “I’ve always believed in the old saying; keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”
The entire staff stood when the cardinal entered and looked around the room. He made the sign of the cross and walked through the complex, stopping to shake each man’s hand in turn. Lundahl then took a seat in front of a console before flipping a switch that illuminated a large screen in the front of the room. The picture from a solitary hidden security camera immediately came into focus. Before them on the screen was the image of the pink-stoned wall of the hidden chapel in the catacombs below.
Drumming his fingers on the console in anticipation, he turned and looked at the man sitting beside him. Father Anthony Morelli smiled back at him. “Soon, Your Excellency, very soon.”
Chapter 41
Leo was sweating. The Roman spring was turning into the hot Roman summer as the temperature soared past ninety degrees. Locals kept saying they had never seen it so hot this early in the year. The foyer of Rome’s main train station was packed. Volumes of humanity flowed in and out of the Stazione Termini as Leo and John made their way out into the Piazza del Cinquecento. Looking like tourists, they were immediately surrounded by unofficial tour guides, taxi drivers, flea-bag hotel representatives, and various other unsavory characters trying to separate them from their money as quickly as possible.
Leo’s imposing figure, along with his knowledge of fluent Italian street slang, soon dissipated this crowd when they realized they were not dealing with a tourist.
Looking around, there was no sign of Moshe and Alon. Leo had hoped they would be waiting for them when they arrived. Knowing Rome like he did, he realized that it was unwise to linger in the area next to this station any longer than necessary.
“Give me the backpack, John.”
“Don’t worry, Father. I’ve managed to bring it this far, and it’s not getting away from me now.”
“Do you see that man over there looking our way?” Leo pointed to a huge Italian man in the center of a group of tough-looking men across the street. “This station is home to some of the best pickpockets and thieves in the world. Alon would have a hard time keeping that backpack if that guy over there wanted it.”
John followed Leo’s gaze to the man who was now looking right at him. He thought for a moment before slowly handing Leo the backpack containing the book while Leo handed him the decoy backpack. The large man had obviously come to some conclusion and was now walking in their direction. He was within twenty feet of Leo when a white minivan skidded to a stop between them. Alon slid the side door open and jumped from the van, allowing the large man approaching to see the nine-millimeter pistol stuck in his waistband. Game over. The large man’s eyes widened as he backed away into the safety of his group and began to once again scan the environment, like a predator on the African savannah looking for new, less dangerous prey.
Moshe gunned the minivan’s engine and lurched away from the curb into the rush of late-afternoon Roman traffic at the height of tourist season. “Where to now, Father?”
“The Hotel Amalfi. It’s where I always stay and it’s right across the street from the Vatican. The owner is a friend of mine and he’s expecting us.”
Moshe used the van’s horn as he wound his way through traffic. “Do you think that’s wise, Father? I mean, if this is a place where you are known to stay, the phone might be tapped. They could even be watching it.”
“I e-mailed the owner. Besides, they probably don’t think I would be bold enough to come back to my regular hotel. It’s probably the safest place in Rome for us to be right now.”
The van weaved its way down the Via Crescenzio past the Castel Sant’Angelo, the same enormous castle where they had climbed out of the catacombs with Morelli into a basement storeroom. Leo glanced up at the summit of the massive round building and fixed his gaze on the colossal bronze statue of Michael the Archangel with unfolded wings, sheathing his sword with his right hand. Created by the eighteenth-century Flemish sculptor, Peter Anton von Verschaffelt, the statue seemed to speak to Leo, telling him everything would be alright. The priest said a silent prayer as they passed below, praying to the powerful angel to protect them one more time.
They rounded a corner and came to a stop several doors down from the hotel. The men checked the area in an effort to spot anyone looking at them with more than a casual interest. The street was especially quiet for this time of day, but anyone could be the one who might be watching to see if they showed up: the single man in a suit casually strolling by, the old lady with a shopping bag, the young girl with a dog. Security people knew all the tricks.