Episode One continued
"Gotta flashlight, Nik?"
"Unfortunately, no. But I have the next best thing." Andriopoulos pulled from his satchel one of four candles. "I lifted these church candles from one of the crates on the truck. Providence. No?" As Pat lit the wick for him and Niki stuffed the other candles back into his pouch, he left one of the candles sticking out in case he would need it. "Well, my friend. Shall we proceed?"
"After you, Nik. You lead, I'll follow."
They disappeared into the nether regions of the Holy See, directly below the Altar of St. Peter's Throne. Though Pat and Niki could not see it from their blind vantagepoint it was there. Niki had seen it in his mind's eye through the dream of Fasif's warning, where he had been subliminally alerted. Directly above them inside the great Basilica the magnificent large bronze Masterpiece faced out toward the main altar and through the great Canopy to the entrance. Below the Chair of Peter in gilded bronze were four noted Doctors of the Church. On the left St. Ambrose in the foreground, St. Athanasius in the background. One represented the Latin Church, the other St. Athanasius for the Greek Church. On the right St. John Chrysostom, also for the Greek Church, and in front of him St. Augustine representing the Western Church of Rome. Dressed in the garments of apostolic successors with bright bronze miters, they seemed as if they were there to carry the Chair of the Holy See for all time. Indeed, they represented what the Church stood for, against the heresies of their time. They would not stand for the heresies and errors that had so permeated the contemporary Church.
Above this magnificent scene designed by Gian Lorenzo Bernini was the tiara and the keys, symbolizing the papacy. Looking down from either side of the circular window bearing the Dove of the Holy Ghost were brilliant bronzed angels in a whirling array of adoration and vigilance.
As Niki probed the darkness with the lighted wax, he still could not realize why he was here, but he knew he had to be here and at this very time. God had a reason. He had wakened the Angels and the Holy Doctors.
They continued on their caliginous journey which began to slope upward like a ramp zigzagging as if in a stairwell. While they walked Pat relayed the information he had discovered about the location of the true Pope. He had few answers and many, many questions as they delved deeper into the darkness.
Dateline: Vatican City - Roof of the Bernini Colonnade - November 6, 12:25 a.m.
Three guards had just returned to the elevator area leading to the roof. In tow they had with them the body of the slain Sergeant Alonzo Dionis. Grabe was livid as Macelli stood by, seething with anger.
"Narr! Where is the American?"
"Disappeared, Senora," answered one of the guards.
"Impossible," raged the fraulein. "Dummkoffs! Ganz!"
Rather than taking the verbal abuse, the guards moved past her to the elevator. It would be left to the rotund Italian to soothe this tornadic woman, if such was possible.
"Elena, we must cut the losses and get on with the matter at hand. No?"
"As long as the American is free, we are at great risk, Antonio! Do you not realize that?" The words hit him like nails.
"Si. But you forget we have the Irish nun in the cellar," he tried to rationalize the irrational. "Let us proceed back there and see what we can uncover. The truth serum was working. She told you Gallagher was in the infirmary. I believe she knows even more."
Elena raced ahead as the robust and overweight Antonio Macelli huffed behind. She'd still have to wait for vertical transportation. The Italian prelate lagged also with a purpose. He needed to update Vendhem via the telecom unit.
Once the elevator arrived, he and Grabe would return to the second floor, then cross the transverse to the Apostolic Palace side where they would take the other lift to the basement. Surprise and shock would greet them. Their reaction would be not unlike the countenance found on gargoyles - an image of the beast the Church had fashioned to remind the faithful of the existence of the devil and to fear him. The problem laid in the evil one convincing the masses that he did not exist through a relaxation of the disciplines as a result of modernization and updating, novelty and other methods that molded the bridge for satan to cross so easily and escort others back across into the inescapable black hole of hell.
Dateline: Vatican City - St. Peter's Basilica - November 6, 12:35 a.m.
Cardinal Gregory Zachmunn emerged from the confessional in the near-end apse of the Gregorian Chapel. He had arrived in the right transept of the great Basilica. He held the door as Sister Bridie, and then Monsignor Stephen Navarro, followed. They stood between the altarpieces of St. Erasmus - his body of polished marble arched backward as Diocletian's Roman torturers burrowed a burning rod into his entrails - and Saints Processo and Martiano - St. Peter's prison guards who converted and paid the price evident in their being stretched on racks. To the left was a magnificent mosaic of the Bohemian king St. Wenceslaus comforted by an angel. Martyrs all. Did it foretell an omen, Gregory wondered as he slippered across the immaculate marble floor. As he walked, he prayed for strength and guidance.
"How did you know about this secret passage?" Stephen whispered in wonderment to Zachmunn.
"There are many, Stephen, for there has always been intrigue here. Where God is the closest, know His enemy will be near, mocking, taunting, tempting."
So true realized the head of the Pontifical Council for Universal Communications as they reached the stairway to the crypt. Quickly and carefully they descended below the main altar, passing the tomb of the first Apostle and on to the Clementine Chapel where Gregory ushered them both inside. He led them to the altar and behind, gently positioning the obedient nun near the standing rows of votive lights behind the altar in the walls.
"You'll be safe here for the time being," assured Gregory. "Don't stray, Sister."
"Sure n' I not be leavin' this refuge, your Eminence. I be at home here."
"Remember, Sister," Stephen proffered advice, "if you hear anyone approach, crouch behind the altar. There's a niche under the candles. Don't stay there too long though. Can get a bit hot."
"N' I not be wantin' to be an exhibit in a wax museum," Sister quipped, her smile trying to lighten the situation.
Stephen returned the smile, reminding her gently. "Just remember the signal."
"Stephen," the Cardinal reminded, "let's pray for a few minutes. Then, I must get back and prepare for the funeral and Conclave and ...you've got to find Pat."
Little did they realize that in another subterranean tunnel within this great Basilica, so rich in history and mystery, another secret passage was drawing Pat and Niki closer, yet farther away.
* * * * * * *
"How'd you know that trap door was there, Nik?" Pat wondered as the two began climbing some steep stairs in this narrow passage. The only light available was provided by the candle Andriopoulos held aloft to guide the way. Deep in his soul Pat felt as if he was climbing Calvary this night.
"I attribute it to a dream, my friend. A very prophetic dream."
"Huh? Explain," Pat urged.
"Tonight, just before Makuta awakened me, I kept hearing ' Danger is near. Wake the angels. Look for the Trap. The Door is there. Danger is near. Wake the angels.' It was so clear."
"Well, here we are," resigned Pat. I don't know where but I do know we're climbing."
"By my calculations we are inside."
"Great deduction, Sherlock!"
"No, Pat. I mean inside St. Peter's."
"Great! But the Pope is at the castle on the Tiber!" protested Pat.
"I know. But we must think of our journey as a - how you say it - roundabout way to get there."
"How 'roundabout'?" Pat was getting anxious. "Sure hope that candle holds out."
"It will," Niki assured him. "Lucky for us it was on the truck. In fact that was all we could find. Candles."
* * * * * * *
Not far away, yet totally muffled in sight and sound, another agenda was underway as Cardinal Josef Vendhem, Guillaume Brunatti, Luciani Serrano and Sergeant Kutsch arrived with two workers - the driver and his passenger. They were carting in the crates from the truck. Ogidi was nowhere in sight.
"Macelli and Grabe will be here soon," Vendhem informed as he turned to Serrano. "You and the guard will need to go to Paul VI Hall to make sure all the 142 coffins are locked. They must not be opened!"
"Did they find more information from the Irish nun, Josef?" Guillaume asked.
"No," growled Vendhem in beastly agitation. "They fouled that up as well! She was gone."
"Gone?" puzzled Brunatti, irritating the German cardinal all the more.
"Vanished!" motioned Vendhem disgustedly, snapping his long fingers in the manner of a magician.
Guillaume shook his head as his comrade - whom he called Lucio - and the Swiss Guard Kutsch - the same who had been surprised by Stephen's left uppercut in Urazzi's office - continued to check the boxes being unloaded. Each thought only of his individual duty, which, to their demented thinking, would alone save them from the wrath of the Master.
Shortly Macelli and the imposter nun of German descent arrived, escorted by Captain Leon Lubac and another guard, both who had crossed over and had opted for the worthless pieces of silver offered by mammon.
Grabe set up the portable computer called the Determinator, which the guard had lugged into St. Peter's.
"That crate, Guillaume," Vendhem instructed. "That is the ones. Offen!"
The Italian, with the help of Lubac, pulled up the wooden slats binding the box. Inside a 6' x 28" molded Plexiglas body with a domed beam in the chest.
"Ein-setzen balken uberzug aus kammer sarg und ich setzen sich. Mach schnell," Grabe demanded. Impatiently she waited for the men to carry out her command to place the body bar in the center of the Papal coffin. With none but the Legion present, there was no shock when the casket was opened to find only mylar strips fastened to the inside walls. Once the domed beam was in place it would govern the other coffins that would explode wherever they were, no matter if they were in St. Peter's or at a nearby Cathedral or crypt, chapel or church, or even overseas, whether enroute or in their particular diocesan church. This special mechanism was the ultimate weapon of mass destruction with a range of 10,000 miles. All would be triggered after the announcement of the new Pope - one hour after white smoke appeared.
Vendhem was counting on it. As the new Pontiff it would be to him all looked to recover from this tragic loss of treasure and culture worldwide. The Master had planned it. Christians everywhere would be putty in his hands.
While Rome slept this eve, the Legion was busy at work setting up the fail-safe trigger that would cause the greatest destruction of a landmark - of a culture - in the history of mankind. The great Basilica would come crumbling down; boulders, bricks, mosaics, frescoes, oils, priceless treasures, glass, and marble -all indistinguishable rubble in the ruins where once stood the symbol of Christianity. The Fallen Angel of Light's greatest victory was imminent.
Next: PART V: The Shedding THIRTEENTH CHAPTER Episode Two
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