Episode Three continued
Dateline: Rome - Half Block from St. Peter's Square - November 6, 5:35 p.m.
Corrie's mission had been successful. While Niki held a six-pack of brew in each hand, Corrie's arms were full, piled high with three steaming pizzas and several calzones in tow, as they made their way slowly back toward the Square through the seemingly impenetrable wall of people who weren't really moving one way or the other. The Requiem buzz was everywhere. Joy and sadness permeated the night. Joy that the Holy Father had addressed all with such verve, straight-forwardness and humility; sadness that he did not live to see it fulfilled. Yet there was a muffled joy that, to many this night, things would be right with the Church and the world again, thanks to the heroic efforts of Clement XV.
Inching closer to the Square, neither Corrie or Niki were aware that they had been followed. Stealthily they were being stalked, from their departure through the Bronze Doors, ordering the pizza and beer, to right now as they reached the edge of the Colonnade. He was laying back, ten feet, but pushing people to stay up with the Greek priest and Corrie.
As they approached the edge of the border of the smallest nation in the world, several Italian militia flanked the perimeter, Niki and Corrie slipped between them in working their way back toward the Bronze Doors. The man in the Franciscan hood lurked ten feet behind, people were everywhere. Siding by one of the soldiers he brought his steel-toed Stingray up against the shins of one of the guards. The force knocked the soldier off balance as he started to fall, bracing himself on people nearby for there was no room to fall. Blix seized the opportunity amid the mayhem, reaching behind to help the soldier up while at the same time pilfering the pistol from the side holster.
"Scusi," Edwin feigned, as he patted the soldier down, dusting him off.
The soldier looked up to acknowledge, "Grazie, --" Whoever the Samaritan who had helped him had gone. All the militia man could see was the back of a Franciscan cowl in the crowd, moving deeper into the crowd. Blix had to keep an eye on the Morelli woman. In his abundant woolen sleeve his left hand clutched the loaded pistol extracted from the military recruit.
Corrie and Niki had moved past the great fountain on the north, moving closer to the Bronze Doors. Blix knocked several out of the way in his haste to keep up. He knew the course they had set; thus he moved at an angle to cut them off at one of the great columns near the Bronze Doors.
Up ahead a company of nuns slowed Corrie and Niki, enabling the cowled Texan to gain the advantage. As luck would have it for Blix, Niki was ahead of Corrie, a good two feet as they were making better time than he had thought. He peered around the column and backed off just as Niki's profile passed, he was talking to her, but not looking back. Corrie came next.
Blix sprung from the side, wrapping his gnarly hand firmly over her mouth and dragging her back behind the column, masking it as if he were helping the girl, that she had fainted as he applied more pressure to her carotid. The pizzas and calzones tumbled to the ground.
Blix jammed the barrel of the pistol into her delicate ribs. "Don't make a peep, Missy, or y'all be splattered like that pizza there."
Fearing for her life, fright and survival flooded Corrie's senses once again. Would this nightmare never end? As much as she loathed this man, she had to cooperate. Niki would surely notice her missing and overpower this beast masquerading as a holy man.
Unfortunately for Corrie, Niki didn't notice her missing until he reached the cordoned-off area in front of the Bronze Doors. Looking back, he called after her. Was she lost?
His eyes saw the pizza boxes scattered between footsteps, and he scanned the multitudes. Where was she? Then he saw her hand in the air waving frantically. Someone had her. Who? She was now 50 feet away. He looked again, they were heading southwest toward the Statue of St. Peter on the left side of the Basilica. God, what was he going to do?
Common sense took over. Realizing discretion is the better part of valor, he raced back through the Bronze Doors to Stephen's office.
Dateline: Vatican City - Office of the Head of Universal Communications - November 6, 5:43 p.m.
Pat, refreshed and sporting a set of fresh clothes provided by Stephen, was helping the future Cardinal assemble the remaining documents for the 6 p.m. press conference.
"They should be here any minute," Pat remarked, looking at his watch. "Aren't you hungry yet?"
"Yeah, but it'll have to wait until after this press conference," Stephen replied, "which isn't going to be a picnic."
"Hey, I hear yah," Pat sympathized. "We'll save yah some. After I eat I'm just gonna kick back an--"
Niki burst into the office, out of breath, speaking almost incoherently. "They - they - someone has grabbed Corrie!"
"What?" Pat was on his feet.
"Someone kidnapped her near the Bronze Doors."
"Where is she now?"
"In the Square," Niki gasped, trying to catch his breath, "heading for the front of the Basilica on the left."
Stephen assessed the situation. "No doubt they're heading for either the bombed out area or behind the Basilica."
"What's the quickest way to head them off?" Pat demanded.
"Not through the Square," Niki insisted, realizing how packed it was.
"Take the Scalia Regia," Stephen asserted. "It'll take you to the Blessed Sacrament Chapel and through the Basilica. You've still got your badges, you should be okay. Here, take these. You may need 'em." He handed Pat a pair of binoculars. "I'll notify Lieutenant Geraud. Go."
"Thanks, Steve," Pat eagerly took the glasses, bewilderment showing on his face.
"Well, times a wastin', get going," Stephen insisted as they flew out of the room and west down the marble hall towards the great staircase.
Dateline: Santo Spirito Mortuary - Expanse of lawn overlooking the Tiber - November 6, 5:47 p.m.
The EMS chopper had settled on the grassy tarmac of the mortuary's back side. The attendants waited for the rotary blades to slow down before they moved forward to greet Colin and Ogidi, the first out of the chopper. They were followed by the Swiss Guards, Kinsajira and Ghislieri toting the gurney bearing the late Pontiff. They placed the slab holding Clement on the attendants' waiting vehicle and wheeled it to the doors on the backside where Ogidi signed a paper releasing the body to the mortuary.
Then quickly all quickly returned and, within minutes, they were airborne again, swinging back northwest toward Rome. The pilot would first deposit Dr. Ogidi and Colin Rembert back at the Vatican, then Dr. Kinsajira and the two EMS attendants to its station on the roof of the Ospedale Santo Spirito, which was a good distance from the Santo Spirito Mortuary.
While all seemed copesetic, the course would take an interrupted encore. A distress signal on the squawk box had just prompted the pilot to alter direction, banking toward the sea and Fiumicino Airport. There had been a shooting on the far side. Someone was trying to hijack a helicopter. The blades of the EMS spun mightily as it sped towards the scene of the crime
Though the black fire had been greatly subdued this day, the reddish glow of its embers loomed on the horizon.
Next: Part VI - The Unveiling SIXTEENTH CHAPTER - Episode Four
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