The Hammer of God v-2 Read online

  When his vision cleared, Father Sin lay face down on the side of the road. Father Tolbert waited, but Father Sin didn’t move. He closed his eyes and begged God for forgiveness.

  Father Tolbert waited for ten minutes. When nobody else showed up, he limped down the road, toward Rome.

  41

  R obert looked down from the countryside villa over Castelnuovo di Porta, the medieval hilltop village, where he and Thorne were staying as guests of Il Martello di Dio, the Hammer of God.

  The lush green valley with its crisp, clean morning air, and soothing surroundings, were a far cry from the pollution filled congestion of Washington D.C., where Robert and Thorne lived and worked. Sister Isabella told him that the village hadn’t changed much in a century, except for a few creature comforts like running water, electricity, and villas like theirs, with swimming pools and modern appliances.

  A hawk swooped down out of the clouds and hovered over the treetops, effortless and smooth. Robert scanned the forest below, his mind on Samuel. He wondered if his godson was still safe, and if he knew that it had been his godfather signaling from the grass.

  Two days had passed since Robert first saw Samuel up close. He wanted to rush in and take him back right away, but it was decided by their hosts that it was safer to keep their distance and not risk giving away their presence until a plan was in place. Robert disagreed, but outnumbered, including Thorne, agreed to abide by the decision to limit their observation to the woods, keeping a good distance from the castle where Samuel was being held captive.

  It encouraged Robert to see Samuel walk the yard in front of the building the past two evenings. Both nights, Samuel edged close to grass where Robert had hidden the first night they spotted him. He wondered if his godson was looking for another sign, and what he felt when it didn’t come.

  “We’ll get started in about five minutes,” said a voice behind Robert.

  Sister Isabella, her rich blue eyes as bright as her smile, handed him a cup of steaming coffee with milk and sugar, just as he liked it. “We’re waiting for Bishop Ruini.”

  “Thank you, Sister,” answered Robert, taking a small sip of the brew.

  The nun offered to prepare Robert some breakfast, but he declined.

  He hadn’t been able to eat much since spotting Samuel. Thorne had finally convinced him to eat dinner the night before, by threatening him with shotgun therapy, but this morning coffee was enough.

  Robert followed Sister Isabella back to the living room. They’d been working twelve-hour shifts out in the woods, including all night the night before, and the nun worked in jeans and sweaters. Robert caught himself on more than one occasion admiring what God had given the strong, beautiful woman, but more than her beauty, it was her gentle strength that caught his attention. She always seemed to be thinking two steps ahead, a chess player ready to pounce.

  But Robert snapped himself out of it. She’s a nun. Besides, he had a girlfriend back in Washington, Fiona Patrick, a Supreme Court Justice no less. Although their relationship hit a snag right before he left for Chicago, he loved her, and hadn’t even considered another woman since they became an item. He had saved her life while working another case, and in a way, she had saved his.

  Bishop Ruini arrived and apologized for his lateness. On the off chance that he’d been followed, he took a long route to the villa, to make sure he wasn’t tailed.

  “Cardinal Maximilian will be here soon,” the bishop told them. “He says he has important information he wants to discuss personally. I’m sure he’ll be taking the long route too. He said we should go ahead and start without him.”

  Everyone gathered in the living room. Father Kong arrived from his shift at the castle. He assured Robert that he left two capable replacements in his place, to keep track of the comings and goings in and out of the castle.

  Thorne sat down on the couch next to Robert, sporting black jeans and a matching long sleeve body shirt, similar to those football players wore under their equipment. The outfit left little to the imagination.

  When he whispered, “Is that appropriate?” she leaned into his ear, and said, “ They’re nuns and priests, not me.” Father Kong started the meeting with a report that nothing had changed at the castle during the night, except for a new set of armed guards who replaced the others.

  “It’s been forty-eight hours,” said Robert, finishing his cup of coffee.

  “I don’t want to wait much longer. They could move Samuel at any time.

  We need to make preparations to get him, now.”

  “We understand,” answered Bishop Ruini. “We want to rescue him too, but caution is our ally. Our plan must be foolproof.”

  “He’s right,” added Father Kong. “Remember, they’re armed. We want to avoid loss of life.”

  “Then what do you propose?’ asked Thorne.

  “We might be able to snatch him when they bring him outside,” said Sister Isabella. “We know they let him out for an hour each evening. An assault from the tall grass might work.” Robert was happy to hear someone had a real plan of action. He was beginning to worry that they might never move forward. “Sounds good,” he agreed. “We can catch them off-guard and keep casualties to a minimum.” The room fell quiet.

  “It’s quite possible,” Father Kong finally said. “They usually bring him out late, so if we strike while it’s dark, just before they take his back inside, we’ll increase our chances tenfold.”

  “So, when do make our move?” Robert asked.

  “I figure a week, maybe ten days,” answered Father Kong.

  “A week!” Robert exclaimed, jumping to his feet. “Anything could happen to Samuel in a week. We could be spotted and blow the whole operation. That’s unacceptable!”

  “I have to agree,” added Thorne calmly. “Why so long?”

  “We’ll probably only get one good chance to grab the boy. I want to make sure nothing is left to chance,” said Father Kong.

  “Thorne and I are pros at this. We know what we’re doing. So let’s not waste time and get a plan down on paper. Or we’ll go without you,” said Robert.

  “That wouldn’t be wise,” said Bishop Ruini. “You need us. You’re up against more than you know.”

  “I beg your pardon, Bishop, we’ve been places and done things you’ll never be able imagine. So don’t tell me what we’re up against,” said Robert.

  Again, the room fell silent. Thorne pulled Robert back down to the couch. “Certainly we can come up with a workable plan in the next few days,” she said.

  “These are dark forces,” said Father Kong, in a hushed, reverent voice. “Much thought and prayer must be laid before we step into such a spiritual battle. The Order believes they have the Anti-Christ, which means they’ll do whatever they can to keep Samuel, and kill anyone who gets in the way.”

  “Forgive me, Father, but I don’t give a damn if they bring the Devil himself. If I have to reach down in hell to get Samuel back, then so be it,” said Robert.

  “You may very well have to do that, Mr. Veil. And trust us, you’ll need every prayer possible,” said Father Kong.

  A car pulled up outside, and minutes later, Cardinal Maximilian, flanked by two large men Robert had never met, entered, kissed each member of Il Martello di Dio on both cheeks, shook Robert and Thorne’s hands, and sat down in the larger recliner in front of them.

  Father Kong caught him up on their conversation. While he did, Robert saw the cardinal give Thorne’s outfit the once over. He looked her in the eye, shook his head and smiled. Thorne nodded, but wore nervousness in her eyes Robert rarely saw. She had told him that she respected the cardinal, and the fact that he knew their secret and had kept it in confidence. Robert agreed. Cardinal Maximilian was a man of great integrity and resource. One of the few men in such a high position that he himself admired. He’d found that typically men of such stature only cared about themselves.

  “We’ll discuss a plan of action later,” the cardinal finally said. “But firs
t, let me bring you up to date on what I’ve learned.” Sister Isabella adjourned to the kitchen, came back with a tall glass of orange juice and handed it to the cardinal. He thanked her and downed half the glass.

  “There was a shooting in Father Tolbert’s room a few days ago,” Cardinal Maximilian told them. “One of my associates hid inside a broom closet when he heard the shot, and saw Cardinal Polletto, Father Tolbert and Father Ortega leave not long after the gunfire. Father Ortega came back later and cleaned up the mess. Father Tolbert hasn’t been seen since. Cardinal Polletto called in to the Vatican Archives, and told them he needed the priest for a special assignment, and hasn’t been seen himself since.”

  Robert leaned forward. “So, then Cardinal Polletto is involved with The Order.”

  Cardinal Maximilian took a deep breath. “Yes, I’m afraid he is very much involved. I wasn’t one hundred percent sure until today.” Robert clinched his fists and took a cleansing breath of his own. “So, what do you think this means?”

  “I’m not sure,” answered the cardinal. “Father Tolbert may be having a breakdown. The combination of his sins against children, and the pressure of working under Cardinal Polletto may be getting to him.

  Your conscious can sometimes punish you better than man.” Not if I get my hands on him, thought Robert. “If they’re back on their heels, then this may be the time to strike, while their minds are elsewhere,” he said.

  Cardinal Maximilian looked around the room at his people, then let his eyes fall on Robert and Thorne. “We need to wait until Cardinal Polletto makes his move.”

  “What move?” snapped Thorne. “Kill the boy?”

  “No doubt Cardinal Polletto will try and verify if Samuel is the Anti-Christ. The Order will perform a ritual, a sacrifice to Asmodeus, in an attempt to find out if the boy is legitimately from the Dark One.”

  “What kind of ritual?” asked Robert, his temper barely under control.

  “We’re not sure,” Cardinal Maximilian responded sympathetically, noticing Robert’s anger. “Nobody outside of The Order has ever witnessed the ritual, but every member will be there. It’s a chance to set them back centuries.”

  “I understand you have a cause to pursue,” said Robert, impatiently.

  “But Samuel isn’t bait, and I won’t let you put his life at risk.”

  “We’re all putting our lives at risk,” said the cardinal, in an even softer tone. “There’s more at stake here than you know.”

  “I know my godson is not the Anti-Christ,” Robert growled. “So let’s get him out of there, or I will.”

  “If you try and go it alone, I’ll have your Visa revoked. You’ll be shipped out of Rome immediately, and we’ll take up the rescue without you.”

  Robert’s muscles tensed. He pounded his fist down on the coffee table, shattering his cup. “I just want to get him out of there,” he snapped.

  “You mean, get them out of there,” answered the cardinal.

  “Them?” asked Thorne, sliding to the edge of the couch.

  “Yes,” said Cardinal Maximilian, looking around at the curious faces of his own people. “There are two additional children at risk.” Robert sat up straight. “Two more? How? When?”

  “Apparently, Samuel has two brothers. They’re triplets.” Everyone sat stunned. An audible gasp squeezed out from between Sister Isabella’s lips. Even the unshakable Father Kong had to lean up against the wall for support.

  Robert looked around the room, his eyes settling on the cardinal.

  “How do you know this?” he asked, stunned.

  “How I know is of little importance. How we handle this matters greatly.”

  “Are you sure, Your Eminence?” Sister Isabella asked, her hands together as if in prayer.

  “I’m afraid so,” said the cardinal, staring directly at Robert. “When they cloned Samuel, the embryo must’ve split.” Robert didn’t know what to think. “So, what does this do to our plans?”

  “We must wait,” said the cardinal. “Like I said, more lives are at stake than just Samuel’s. We have to locate the other two boys and save them all.”

  Robert, awash in emotion, stood, his eyes never leaving the cardinal’s, went to his room and slammed the door.

  42

  R obert leaned on the bedroom windowsill, fuming and frustrated.

  Cardinal Maximilian’s revelation that Samuel had two identical brothers did nothing to quell his sense of urgency, but only increased his burning desire to rescue his godson right away. He understood the cardinal’s position and reasoning. Il Martello di Dio was at war with The Order, but that wasn’t his problem. The idea that Samuel was the Anti-Christ was ludicrous to him, no matter how the ten year old was conceived. Cloning or not.

  He backed away from the window and sat down on the edge of the bed. The shooting in Father Tolbert’s room perplexed him. Outside of suicide, he wondered what could’ve happened right there in Vatican City. The more he mulled it over, his anxiety increased. If gunplay was now a part of the equation, then the entire situation would spin out of control very quickly, and the sooner he had Samuel in his arms, the better. His gut told him something bigger than they anticipated was involved, and they had better get out soon.

  Robert heard the bedroom door open. Thorne, a smirk on her face, eased inside, closed the door, and leaned back against it. “Tsk, tsk,” she scolded, wagging her finger. “That was a bit rude, don’t you think?”

  “Fuck’em,” he fired back. “My only concern is Samuel. The rest is bullshit as far as I’m concerned.”

  Thorne sat down next to him, calm, her eyes sympathetic. “Cardinal Maximilian is right, you know. There’s more at stake here. We should make sure we get all three boys. It’s the right thing to do.”

  “The right thing to do is to get my godson, then blow this place as fast as we can,” said Robert.

  The softness on Thorne’s face dissolved a bit. “You’re upset, I understand, but you’re being selfish, Robert. If something happened to those other two boys, Samuel’s brothers no less, how will you live with yourself?”

  Robert stood and walked back over to the window. He stared out for a moment at the lush valley and serene hills, then turned around, his eyes locked on his partner’s. “I’m prepared to accept the consequences. I just want my boy back. I owe Donovan that much.”

  “You mean our boy, and we both owe Donovan. This isn’t just about you.”

  “Then let’s cut the bull and go get him” snapped Robert, struggling to keep his voice low.

  Thorne stood, her eyes stern. “What about Cardinal Maximilian?”

  “What about him?”

  “If not for him, we’d have no idea where to find Samuel. We owe him.”

  Robert took a deep breath. “I understand, but I just don’t care.”

  “What about Samuel?” shot Thorne. “They’re his brothers we’re talking about. What are you going to say to him if those boys die in The Order’s hands, and you could’ve saved them?” Robert paced the floor, head down. After several minutes, he stopped and faced his partner. “Get in touch with our contacts here in Rome. We need a three-man rubber watercraft, with oars and a silent motor, grappling hooks, two fifty-foot sections of rope, climbing gear, night vision goggles, and 9mm’s with silencers and infrared scopes.” Thorne just looked at him and shook her head. Robert moved close to her ear.

  “Seventy-two hours,” he whispered. “I’ll give the cardinal’s people three days to find the other two boys. After that, you and I are going to approach the castle by water, scale the backside wall and get our boy back.”

  Thorne smiled. “You a bad mutha, you know that? Agreed.”

  “And this stays between us,” Robert added. Thorne nodded her consent.

  There was a knock at the door. Father Kong apologized for the intrusion as he entered. “Cardinal Maximilian asked me to extend his apologies. He had to leave for the Vatican,” he said, his face serious and intense. “He also asked me to inform you of
a new development.” Robert’s eyebrows raised. Now what? “Oh?” Father Kong stepped forward. “Alison Napier has just arrived in Rome.”

  43

  S ister Isabella drove Robert and Thorne into Rome, and dropped them in front of Trevi Fountain, in the middle of Rome’s world-renowned historic center, and agreed to pick them up in two hours at the same spot.

  The mid-morning crowd went about its business, as if strolling past some of the world’s most entrancing monuments and artistic masterpieces were as common as passing the post office. Robert guessed that for those who lived here, that was the case. However, for he and Thorne the sight of the alluring Spanish Steps, the enchanting Trevi Fountain, and the awe-stirring Piazza Navona, it was a cultural rush they rarely experienced back in the states. Only the cloud of Samuel’s abduction could taint the sights they both adored.

  Several members of Il Martello di Dio had trailed Alison from the Leonardo da Vinci Airport to the Grand Hotel del la Minerve, a five star hotel in a seventeenth century building less than half a mile from where Sister Isabella left them. Alison had checked into one of the hotel’s luxury suites on the top floor, alone. Robert guessed she was there, most likely, at the invitation of Cardinal Polletto, the man in which she now put her trust. Without Donovan or Samuel at her side, he fully understood, but wondered what the malevolent cardinal wanted with her.

  He had her son, and had killed her husband. Money was not a problem, Robert was sure Cardinal Polletto had access to untold riches. Strange, very strange.

  Back in Chicago, Robert didn’t dare burden Alison with his suspicions. She hadn’t been very open to receiving their help, and Donavon’s murder compounded matters. However, now that he’d found Samuel, and knew of Cardinal Polletto’s plans, he had to at least tell Alison enough to keep her safe.

  Robert and Thorne reached the Grand Hotel de la Minerve, its seventeenth century Victorian architecture every bit as stunning as the area around it. Inside, the lobby was exquisitely adorned in rich royal blue antique furniture, atop elegant Persian rugs and an ice white marble floor. They strode through the lobby without so much as a glance from the hotel staff, but Robert knew better. The appearance of discretion was requisite at the finer hotels in Italy. But even though no direct stare was obvious, he knew that every detail of their arrival had been mentally catalogued, down to the time, and a full description of what they were wearing.