Moshe opened the driver’s door and stepped out into the street. Alon placed his hand on the gun in his waistband as they sat in the van and waited for something to happen. The young girl with the dog crossed the street while the old lady with the shopping bag disappeared around the corner. The man in the suit slowed his walk as he passed by the van and said hello, smiling to no one in particular before continuing on his way.
It was time to go. The men grabbed their backpacks and exited the van. They stood together on the deserted sidewalk, and after another quick look around, they headed straight toward the hotel and bounded up the steps and through the welcoming Victorian doors.
Arnolfo practically leapt from behind the desk and grabbed Father Leo in a warm bear hug. “Thank God you made it safely, Father. I’ve been sick with worry since I got your e-mail. I’ve been keeping a close watch around the hotel for suspicious persons like you asked me. Did you see the girl with the dog?”
“I knew it,” John said. “She’s the one I figured they would use. It was so obvious.”
“She’s my daughter,” Arnolfo said, trying to keep from laughing and embarrassing John any further. He looked at Leo. “Didn’t you recognize her, Father?”
“It’s been years since I saw her last, Arnolfo. She’s much older now.”
“I know, Santa Maria, tell me about it. She’s been watching the street for you. Please, come with me into the kitchen in back so we can have some private talk.”
“Good idea, sir,” Alon said, glancing back at the front doors.
They were just crossing the lobby heading for the back of the hotel, when the sound of screeching brakes on the street outside literally made the men jump. Alon drew his weapon and stood before the group while Arnolfo grabbed a baseball bat from behind the reception desk and stood beside Leo.
One of the front doors swung open and Ariella stuck her head in. “Hi, guys.”
Alon lowered his gun as the others let loose a collective hiss of the air they had been holding in their lungs for too long.
“Breathe, everyone. It’s just me.”
John rushed around Alon and grabbed her in his arms. “What are you doing here? How did you…?”
“The communications people on the yacht have a GPS fix on you at all times. I just asked them where you were, and bingo, here I am.”
“A GPS fix? I don’t have a-”
“The sensors are embedded in your clothing.”
“Nice. Remind me to never lie to you about where I’m going.”
“Just remember never to lie to me.” Ariella laughed and looked around the room. “Are you guys really getting ready to play baseball?”
Arnolfo adopted a sheepish grin and put the baseball bat back behind the counter.
Leo and Moshe exchanged glances. They felt uncomfortable with the sudden turn of events, but both knew Ariella had a right to be there. She was, after all, one of the chosen and had braved the terrors in the desert, proving herself to be a strong and willing equal to any of the men.
“We need to get going,” Moshe said.
Arnolfo led the way down the narrow back hallway to a small family-sized kitchen. The hotel lacked a restaurant and provided only drinks or late-night sandwiches for the guests. Arnolfo poured some wine while the group gathered around the heavy wooden kitchen table and began discussing their plans for entering the catacombs below the Vatican.
Leo looked around the table. “Does anyone have any idea where we can enter the area where the chapel’s located? We can’t just walk through the Vatican, and I don’t want to go all the way back to the entrance under Mamertine Prison in the Forum.”
John had one arm draped around Ariella’s chair. “How about that tunnel we used the last time? The one under the Castel Sant’Angelo. We could go back down through that manhole the same way we came out.”
Leo thought for a moment. They had almost been discovered by security men when they climbed up into the castle’s basement storeroom with Morelli. He weighed their options, wondering if there was a way in without being seen or stopped by security.
“How about my basement?” Arnolfo asked. His face was a mask of innocence and simplicity.
Leo shot him a glance. “Your basement? Do you mean that wine cellar down below?”
“Yes, Father, that’s it.”
“Thank you, Arnolfo, but the area we need to get into is much deeper than that.”
“There is a tunnel below, Father. My grandfather covered it up because he was afraid the children would find it and get lost down in the catacombs. Also, the smell is not so good.”
The others sat up and pulled away from the kitchen table as if it had suddenly become electrified. Leo stood and began pacing, staring at the floor and running his fingers over his chin. “Let’s go look at it.”
Arnolfo led the way through a plain wooden door in the kitchen down a tight, winding stairway. He pointed to the narrow steps beneath their feet. “Careful, Father. These steps were carved two thousand years ago by the Romans. I think they had smaller feet than us.”
They continued down until they were standing in a chamber hollowed out of solid rock and filled to the curved ceiling with hundreds of bottles of wine.
“I remember you telling me about this wine cellar, Arnolfo,” Leo said. “I had no idea.”
“Some of this wine has been here since before we were born, Father.”
“Where’s the entrance to the tunnel you told us about?” John asked.
Arnolfo looked down at the floor. “You’re standing on it.”
The group studied the two-inch thick stone blocks that covered the floor as Arnolfo grabbed a shovel from a dusty corner. Placing the edge of the shovel blade between two large rectangular stones, he pried the edge a few inches high while Alon and Moshe lifted it up and shoved it aside. After lifting several more stones, they revealed the hard-packed dirt beneath. Arnolfo began digging, and within minutes, he had struck the wooden cover his grandfather had placed there over fifty years earlier. He gingerly pried the rotting wood up, and immediately, the room filled with the dank smell of the ancient tunnels beneath.
John turned his nose up at the smell. “I love the smell of catacombs in the morning.”
“It’s late afternoon,” Arnolfo said, not getting the joke.
Leo looked around at the others before glancing at Arnolfo and pulling Moshe aside. “I think it would be better if you stayed here with Arnolfo and guarded this entrance.”
“What?” Moshe looked offended. “Lev gave me strict orders to stay with you.”
“We have Alon, and besides, I’m not entirely helpless. I don’t want to leave Arnolfo and his family here without someone like you to watch over them. If the Vatican security men come to the hotel, you’re the only one who can keep this entrance safe if we need to make a hasty retreat.”
“I see what you mean, Father. No one will follow you down that hole.”
Everyone gathered around and peered down into the dank opening. Air began to rush in and out from the tunnel below, as if they had uncovered the hidden lair of a sleeping prehistoric animal that was breathing deeply in its nest.
Arnolfo pulled a wooden ladder away from the wall and lowered it through the narrow entrance while Alon pulled a headlamp from his backpack and was the first to descend to the tunnel floor below. One by one, the others disappeared through the hole until only Arnolfo and Moshe remained in the wine cellar above. Arnolfo called out to Leo as he descended the ladder. “Do you want me to come with you, Father?”