Episode Five continued
Dateline: Vatican City - Third Floor of the Apostolic Palace - November 6, 9:40 a.m.
Leaving Sister Bridie behind with instructions for Dr. Ghislieri when he showed up in case Monsignor Navarro didn't return, Stephen had stolen out the door of the Papal Apartment and down the corridor past the nuns' rooms towards the headquarters office of the Sisters of the Holy Family of Loreto.
To his good fortune, Elena didn't hear him as he passed her room. She was nervous. Where had the resisters disappeared to? Things were too quiet. Serrano had not reported back yet. Was he in trouble? The funeral was less than an hour away. Now was the time to set the trigger. She would not wait for word from the Master. Things had gone awry too many times. If she didn't act now the window of opportunity would close soon.
Methodically she reached into the trunk and retrieved the fairly bulky computer-like mechanism that would tweak the signals to reach the imbedded chips inside the coffins at the exact timing set on this remote trigger. Two hours and several more minutes would give her time to escape before the entire edifice of the magnificent St. Peter's Basilica exploded in one huge holocaust that would consume all the participants within. It would be spectacular. The world would know there was no hope left. They would capitulate to the powers that be and she would be among the elite to wield the power, her prize for her key participation in the destruction of the one institution that had always been the last obstacle to world domination by the Antichrist and his minions.
She opened the lid and lifted the screen, entering on a special keyboard the necessary variables of each chip whose data was already stored in the files to set the timer. This time it would be pure time, no pitch signals that backfired at the Field of Abraham because some moron switched the schedule, concluded Grabe as she hurried through the series of data files, predetermining the coordinates.
Her mouth watered in anticipation of the gore and destruction that would ensue at high noon. It didn't matter the consequences. It would be too late for everyone. The world had been manipulated over the past fifty years to accept whatever anyone said if it were delivered through the arranged channels of communication. The great war begun on September 11, 2001 and waged so overconfidently in 2003 had tilted the balance of power and enabled the One World Order to take shape as the military powers became bogged down in the quagmire of politics and the unorthodox guerilla tactics of ancient and radical Islam sects. The powers of secular Zionism, while pleading the victim, had cleverly maneuvered themselves into position through economic collapses globally. They who rule the banks rule the world. This maxim had been in force ever since the House of Rothschild came to power following the French and American Revolutions. Few realized the revolution of the 21st century had been carried off under cover of patriotism and democracy by the very prophets of finance few knew even existed.
None of that mattered to Elena. She was a hands-on warrior for the Master. She wanted none of the political gambits and posturing. She wanted action and this day she would have her way come hell or high-water. The Master would be pleased. Vendhem and Macelli and the rest were expendable. They would serve no purpose once the Church was destroyed for despair would reign. Serrano would be helpful to keep up the ruse until it was time for her to vacate the Vatican. Then she would allow the gruff Italian to accompany her back to New Nasiriyah where he would meet with an untimely death. She prided herself that she had not given Macelli all of the deadly potion that afternoon in the hills above Rome. She prided herself on staying a step ahead of everyone and this fierce pride showed on her countenance as she pressed in the final coordinate and pushed the key to activate the timer.
Gathering up the few necessary things she would need, she closed the suitcase. The trigger would be fine right where it was. The frequencies would be perfect. The explosion - an incendiary delight, the likes of which the world had never seen. Overconfidently she placed the suitcase beneath the bed and strutted out of Sister Agnes de Christi's old room and down the hall, away from this godforsaken place. The deed was done. There was no turning back now. She had rigged the timer so that no one could override her commands if they tried. All efforts would fail for her plan was failsafe. Or was it?
She was yet unaware that Stephen was three hundred feet ahead of her, having just turned into the front office of the Order's headquarters.
"Yes, Father, may I help you," the bespectacled nun sitting behind the reception desk asked as Stephen entered.
"Yes, I need to see Sister Hildegarde."
"Scusi. She not here."
"Do you know where I can find her?" Navarro practically begged.
"Preparing for Funeral Mass. May I help, Si?
"Where in the Basilica can I find her?" Stephen probed further.
"You want to disturb her during Pope's funeral?" the naive nun dared him.
"That's not the Pope. He's alive, Sister."
"What?" The startled nun was taken aback, her jaw dropped.
"It's a long story, Sister. Please, where can I find her?"
"Possibly in Sacristy. But your claim makes no--"
Stephen didn't have time to let her finish, "If you see her before I do, just tell her not - NOT - to light ANY candles!"
"Are you alright?" asked the nun, concern and confusion both registering on her face.
"Yes, Sister. Pardon me, I know you don't understand and I don't have time to tell you more. Just trust me."
"Trust no one." The voice came from behind him and it was deep, guttural.
Stephen wielded around to find himself staring directly into the steel-gray, cold eyes of Elena Grabe in full habit. "You!!!"
"Do not trust him," Elena commanded the front desk reception nun, "he is an imposter."
"She's the imposter, Sister." Stephen insisted. "She's with the Legion."
"What legion?" The nun was really bewildered now.
"The Legion of the Basilisk," Navarro blurted. "They're out to destroy the Pope and the Church."
Even he wouldn't have believed it if he didn't know. How was he going to convince this nun as to the evil intent of Grabe?
"See, he is delirious," snapped Grabe, a sickening satisfaction curling on her lips.
Stephen lunged at the only evidence he knew as he grabbed Elena's arm, ripping the sleeve from her habit in one motion before she could react. His swift thinking had exposed the Basilisk symbol tattoo on her left arm. "Sister, do you know of any nun with a crowned snake-like lizard on her arm?"
The front desk nun was appalled by the brash action and even more so by the grotesque image emblazoned on this supposedly religious nun's arm. "What is that?"
"Oh, come now," Elena stammered on the defense. "I did that before becoming a nun. It will not come off. Do you hold this against me?"
"She's lying, Sister. As God is my witness. I am Monsignor Stephen Navarro, head of the Pontifical Council for Universal Communications." His trump card was his ID which he promptly produced. "Check it with your computer, Sister."
Grabe dug in. She had not been prepared for this confrontation from so brazen a resister. Almost instantly the data appeared on the nun's computer verifying Stephen's identity.
"Mi dispiace," the front desk nun acknowledged. "You are legitimate, Monsignore. Then who is she?"
"Not one of God's creatures!" Stephen braced for what was coming next as he ducked out of the way, crying out to the front desk nun to get out.
But it was too late. She could not move, frozen in place as she watched the ugly morphing in shock. Elena had grown more angry, transforming into the hideous monstrous lizard, the same that had devoured Helene Shenneker and Victor Van Wess. Instantly the wimple and veil she was wearing ripped asunder as animated, thicker hair coiled out, morphing into a Medusa-like head that hissed from all sides as it morphed into the reptilian monster of biblical times. The Master had fully possessed her very being and now was manifesting itself. The rest of the habit shriveled as thick, putrid green scales bulged forth, a slithering, undulating tail crashing against the door frame behind it, slashing at the wall, as extensions - talon-like pincers grew from the sides of the hideous abdomen. With one lunge her claw found the frail neck of the helpless nun, crushing her mercilessly.
Stephen screamed out as loud as he could. "Don't look at it!"
But it was too late for the front desk nun. Without hesitating, he darted out the door looking for any kind of reinforcement. He knew Grabe was dangerous but he had never fathomed this! Two guards heard the commotion as they rounded the corner and he waved them his way. The noise and dying screams of the front desk nun alerted them to have their halberds out and thrust forward. It would do little good as the repulsive reptile seemed to play with their weapons like toothpicks, gorging one of the guards and knocking the other down. By now the bloody turmoil had summoned several nuns to the hall and they shrieked in horror. This served to distract the Grabe-monster for a split second. It was just enough as Stephen dropped and rolled, scooping up a knife dropped by a fallen guard. With split-second precision he rolled directly under the monster and, with all his might, thrust the blade up into its chest. It was nothing but an empty cavity, reeking of maggots. The action prompted more screams from the nuns and a louder, bellowing roar from the heinous being who once was the German fraulein Elena Grabe.
Another guard approached carefully without making direct eye-contact, making a swipe at the Basilisk which allowed Stephen to roll out of the path of the lunging beast and flee into the hall. The guard was not as fortunate as the monster targeted him. The frightened guard turned on his heels and headed down the other hallway right toward the startled nuns.
Stephen could see the impending danger and from 200 feet away at the other end of the hall, he emptied his lungs in hoping to divert more deaths. He whistled frantically to gain Grabe's attention, and cried out, "Hey, lizard breath, you ain't so tough." He knew instantly that was one of the dumbest things he'd ever said, but it worked. The beast abandoned pursuit of the guard and turned away from the nuns, loping after Stephen, roaring, but noticeably weakened. She, or it, was leaving a trail of green blood, slime. With every step more oozed out and the more furious the unholy creature became. Despite the ailing state of the hulking lizard, it still was gaining on Navarro as he reached the end of the hall. Only an elevator. He punched the button desperately and prayed as the beast drew closer. The morning sun reflecting in the great window blinded the Basilisk. Its breath could be felt by Stephen as it closed in on him for the kill.
Realizing he had only one chance, he moved right into harm's way at the window as the reflection beamed back at the lunging reptilian entity with opened jaws ready for the final gorging. Stephen dropped just as the beast hurtled at and over him, tasting nothing but glass as it shattered everywhere. Shock in Elena seeing her own reflection and immediate defenestration were his only defense as the force of the lunge carried Elena through the shards, plunging the ghastly beast downward to her ultimate death three stories below on the hard pavement of the courtyard.
Stephen, sweating and panting, cautiously peered through the broken shards to the scene below. He was just in time to witness the sizzling of unearthly flesh on the asphalt, and then evaporation. There was nothing left of the hard-crusted Teutonic woman who had paid with her soul and, as always, failed in her quest for earthly gains. The Devil had called in his mark. The spirit of the beast had slithered off, but Grabe was toast.
The guard caught up with Stephen at the window, "Padre, where did that monster come from?"
Without looking up, Stephen, still trying to catch his breath, rasped, "straight from the bowels of hell!"
Next: PART V: The Shedding FOURTEENTH CHAPTER Episode Six
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