Cardinal Lundahl staggered from the ancient chapel and collapsed into the outstretched arms of the priests and cardinals in the tunnel. His skin was pale-his breathing rapid and shallow.
“Shouldn’t we be getting him to a hospital?” Leo asked.
“No,” Morelli said. “He’s totally exhausted. I’ve seen this before after exorcisms. We will take him to his apartment and let the Vatican doctor look after him. He needs spiritual as well as physical healing now.”
“What about you, Father?” John said. “You took a pretty good hit on the head.”
Morelli smiled and pointed to his head for the others to see. The gash was gone. It had disappeared when he was translating what the archangels were saying. With evidence of miracles all around them, they realized that God was now working openly among modern man to show his presence in the world, and only fools or those hopelessly lost to his words would fail to heed his message of love.
Alon and John helped the priests carry the cardinal’s limp figure, snaking their way through the tunnel until they reached some ancient hand-hewn steps leading out of the catacombs to the grotto above.
John suddenly remembered the radio transmission they had received earlier from the yacht. “Do you think the rocket hit Jerusalem, Father Leo?”
“After what we just saw in the chapel, any miracle is possible, John.”
Everyone was still in a state of detachment following the supernatural events of the past hour. Their expressions were vacant. The physical world around them was slowly coming back into focus as they concentrated on going through the motions of living. They were functioning in the present, but their minds were still filled with the angelic vision they had just witnessed. Angels really did exist.
They continued upward through a doorway and out of the dank necropolis into the fresh air of the grotto beneath the basilica. The Swiss Guards loyal to the cardinal were everywhere as Francois guided Leo and the others through the doorway. A crew of paramedics and security officers carefully lifted the cardinal and placed him on a stretcher. Surrounded now by the light and splendor of the marble crypt, Lundahl opened his eyes and looked at Morelli as if he had just awakened from a dream. “Did we succeed, Father?”
Morelli took his hand. “Yes, Your Eminence, you placed the unholy book on the altar, and it was destroyed. Nothing remains but ashes now.”
“Good… good. Has anything else happened in the world since we were down in the chapel?”
Leo glanced at Morelli but was met by a look that indicated the cardinal shouldn’t be burdened with any further news at the moment. Paramedics lifted the stretcher and headed off toward the cardinal’s apartment followed by an entourage of priests and other cardinals. The Vatican’s chief of security trotted along, never leaving the cardinal’s side, while Leo and the others struggled as they climbed the final series of polished steps into the Basilica.
The enormous open doors of the Basilica and the fresh breeze from outside beckoned the group toward the entrance. Their walk turned to a jog before they noticed the bronze pillars surrounding the main altar, causing them to stop with the knowledge that they could never leave this church without offering a prayer of thanks to God for His intervention in the chapel.
When they were finished with their prayers, everyone turned and ran outside where they breathed in the exquisite Roman air tinged with the aroma of spring flowers that bloomed in the Vatican gardens. Especially the roses.
Lev looked up into the fading sky and marveled at the stars that seemed to be switching on one by one in the growing darkness. “I have a strong feeling that Jerusalem is still intact and that somehow the rocket was stopped.”
Leo shot John a glance. He then turned to the newly resurrected Father Morelli. “Is there somewhere we can find a television set and tune in to the news?”
Morelli was about to speak when Alon’s radio crackled to life. “Alon, come in. This is the Carmela. Do you read us?” Alon grabbed the mike and keyed it. “Yes, Carmela, come in. We read you.”
“Where are you?” It was Alex. “Is everyone alright? Did you complete your mission?”
Alon smiled at the others. “Yes, we’re OK. Our mission was a success. Have you heard any news from Jerusalem?”
There was silence. Standing in the middle of Saint Peter’s Square, they looked down at the ground in the gathering twilight listening for words to return through the air over the still radio. The tension was palpable-they all wondered if their worst fears had been realized. The sound of Alex’s voice broke the stillness. “There’s been a miracle in the Holy Land. The missile headed for Jerusalem disappeared over the city about half an hour ago.”
Leo exhaled. Exactly the same time as the Devil’s Bible burst into flames.
Shouts of relief filled the air as they all embraced one another. Alon broke into a huge grin and physically lifted John off the pavement, causing Ariella to shriek with laughter. People around them looked on in amusement as the group danced around, hugging and clapping each other on the back.
Alex’s voice came back over the radio. “Gabriella was flying over the city when it happened. Her unit was scrambled from their base in Tel Aviv, and when their helicopters arrived on the outskirts of Jerusalem, the incoming warhead just vanished in midair. They all saw the image of a giant golden sword appear in the sky overhead … it lit up the entire city before it slowly faded away.”
The group was hushed as they realized that two miracles had occurred on this day. It was a jubilant moment worthy of celebration. The Devil’s Bible had finally been destroyed, and Jerusalem had been spared a nuclear holocaust.
Houston hadn’t been so lucky. If they had been looking at a giant celestial scoreboard, it would have read God 3, Satan 1. Leo thought about the message that had been delivered to him by Gabriel. Men were still in possession of weapons of immense power, and he was not naive enough to think that, in the realm of geopolitical affairs, the attack on Houston would go unanswered.
He knew that, even now, plans were being made by some in the United States to exact revenge on those they believed not only planned and committed the act, but also on those who sponsored it. That could mean a mindless nuclear attack on a city filled with people who did not share the vision of radical Islam and had no knowledge of what the evil attackers had planned. God had protected His holy city, but the world was still at risk.
Leo looked around at the other members of the team. They had been through so much together since they all met, and he feared they would face even darker days ahead. He looked forward to the day when man would not have to keep score between good and evil and wondered if mankind was truly living in a time when only God’s intervention could save the world. Globally, people would have to someday throw off the shackles of nationalism and religious radicalism. They would have to come together without the presence of misguided super elders telling them what to do and who to hate.
Morelli broke the silence. “We need to get something to eat and drink. In my case, the drink comes first.”
Leo had already forgiven Morelli for making him believe he was dead, but he couldn’t resist one final jab at him now as he put his arm around the shoulder of his old, dear friend. “You’ve read my mind, Anthony. But since you died and left all your money to me, I’ll buy dinner tonight.”
The others roared with laughter as Morelli stood there speechless, his eyes squinting at Leo. Their laughter had barely died down when Morelli’s red BMW sped up beside them. “My car!”
“No, my car,” Leo said, enjoying the moment.
Morelli peered into the car after it screeched to a stop. “Is that you, Moshe?”
“Father Morelli? I thought you were-”
“It’s a long story. What are you doing here with my car?”
“I’ve got to get back to the yacht. Our van was damaged in the storm, so Arnolfo told me to take this car and leave it at the dock. I didn’t know it was yours.”
“That’s OK. It’s all for a good cause. I’ll pick it up later.”
Lev rushed over to the passenger side and jumped in. “I’m coming with you. I need to get back to the boat and call home to see if everything is alright at the villa.” Lev looked over the group. “When will you all be coming back to the yacht?”
“As soon as we have a few drinks and a bite to eat,” Leo said. “Don’t worry, we’ll keep an eye on Ariella and make sure she gets home on time.”
Lev laughed out loud. “Good luck with that.”
Ariella threw her head forward and blew her father a kiss. “Bye, Daddy.”
With a wave from Moshe, the car sped off into the streets of Rome, headed for the harbor. The group turned and walked together out of the piazza through Bernini’s columns onto the Via della Conciliazione. They strolled along the wide street to the Castel Sant’ Angelo, where they stopped and stood for a moment, gazing up at the lighted statue of Michael the Archangel. They marveled at how they had actually seen this very real angel just a short time ago. It was surreal.
They continued to gaze up at the statue as small groups of people strolled by, going about their daily lives and not really understanding the mystical power that surrounded them. Leo pondered the miracle he had witnessed this day, knowing that sometime in the future, he would have to reach deep within himself to discover why he had been chosen to be a part of it.
Fittingly, they crossed the river Tiber over the Ponte Sant’ Angelo, the bridge created by Bernini in the seventeenth century and lined with spectacular statues of angels sculpted by him. Leo never wanted to leave this wonderful city again. Maybe he would transfer here someday.
They headed down the Via del Banco de Santo Spirto to the piazza of the same name. It seemed like the entire populace of Rome was out in the streets, some cleaning and sweeping away the debris from the storm, while others simply walked about breathing in the warm air, their senses heightened to the fact that the scent of flowers was stronger than usual.
They found an open trattoria and sat together outside. Soon the waiter left a bottle of wine at their table and they were inhaling the aroma from their glasses as they took the first sips of their much-needed reward. Leo thought about making plans to return to the yacht, but the stillness and lack of motion at the moment was like a long, luxurious bath. The tension in their bodies slowly began to ebb as the wine took hold, and a warm glow descended over the group.
John and Ariella were busy talking a mile a minute to Morelli, regaling him with stories of their adventures in the Negev Desert.
“Amazing!” was all Father Anthony seemed capable of saying when hearing the details of Satan’s underground cathedral and their escape from it.
Leo took a sip of his wine and eyed Morelli across the table. “Anthony, I need to know if you can answer a question about where the book was located in the cavern. Did you know it was encased under solid stone?”
“You were wondering how Father Bianchi was able to replace it there.”
“Well, yes, we all were.”
“Before he died, he told me that when he returned to Satan’s cathedral under the desert, he placed the book on the translucent floor in the center of the room. He said the floor under the book immediately turned to blood and that the book sank from sight before the floor hardened again into a clear, black, gem-like surface, encasing the book several feet below. He knew this was Satan’s way of protecting his Bible and felt that no one would be able to remove it again until either Satan or God allowed it to leave that place.”
Ariella felt chills down her spine when he told them how the floor had turned to blood. “I still can’t believe we were down in that horrible place, much less lived to tell about it.”
John squeezed her hand and looked around the table. “I think the fact that we were singled out to be a part of all of this makes us the luckiest people on the planet right now.”
Ariella smiled across the table. “Not lucky, John … I think blessed would be a better choice of words. I guess we’ll never know why we were chosen, but God definitely has something in mind for us in the future. Our lives have a clearly defined purpose now.”
As the waiter approached the table to take their dinner order, Leo noticed the familiar face of the older security man as he materialized from the darkness of the piazza and headed straight for them
Arriving at their table, he nervously scanned the area around the restaurant before speaking. “Hello, Fathers. May I have a word with you?”
“Of course, Francois,” Morelli said. “Pull up a chair and have some wine with us. Leo, meet Francois, the Vatican’s chief of security and one of my best friends.”
Leo had never known the name of this individual-he had always just thought of him as ‘the older security man’. Father Leo had been slightly suspicious of this character, especially earlier when he had first met him standing next to the cardinal at Morelli’s apartment, the same day he thought that his friend had died. Leo was relieved to see that this high-ranking officer in the Vatican Guard was in fact one of Morelli and Lundahl’s closest allies.
Francois remained standing. “Thank you, Father. I don’t have much time, and I’m afraid you don’t either.” This last sentence caught the group off guard and sent their nerves back on high alert.
Morelli sipped his wine as he looked up at the security chief. “What’s going on, Francois?”
“Emilio has escaped our surveillance, and we don’t know where he and some of his friends are now.”
Leo and the others had completely forgotten about the evil little priest who grabbed the backpack in the tunnel while he was conspiring to have them all killed before they could reach the chapel.
Francois placed his hands on the back of an empty chair and looked around the table. “Until we have them in custody, I think it would be wise for all of you to leave Rome as soon as possible until we round them all up.”
Leo looked down and smoothed the white tablecloth with his free hand. “Who are these people, Francois, and why would they still be interested in us?”
Morelli noticed Francois nervously eyeing the group. “Go ahead, Francois, you can tell them what we know about Emilio. They are certainly a part of all this now.”
Francois relaxed slightly before speaking. “In short, gentlemen, Emilio and his followers are the evil ones we’ve been watching for some time.”
“What exactly do you mean by the term evil ones?” Alon asked. “I mean … are they some kind of demonically possessed beings or something?”
“No, my friend, they’re quite human. We’ve known for some time that the Church has been infiltrated by those who worship Satan instead of God. They’ve caused great harm to the Catholic Church. We’ve been gathering intelligence on them in an effort to see just how deeply they’re embedded and who their leaders are.”
“Are these the same people who’ve been working so hard to discredit the clergy in an effort to bring down the Church?” Leo asked.
Francois shook his head in agreement. “Exactly. We believe they were also tasked with obtaining the Devil’s Bible and handing it over to the Antichrist when he makes his appearance as foretold in Revelation. They are his earthly soldiers and are committed to furthering his rise to power. We think they still believe you have the book and will stop at nothing until they have it in their possession. I’m afraid that, until they’ve been captured, you are all still in danger.”
Ariella lifted her head from John’s shoulder. “But the book burned to ashes on the altar in the chapel.”
“We don’t know for sure if they realize that yet, Miss. Emilio escaped, but we captured one of the men who was with him when he tried to flee the catacombs. Apparently, Emilio believes the book still exists. When he found that the backpack he grabbed from John was empty, he thought you were all making a trial run without it to see if you would be stopped. He thinks the book is in a different location with another member of your group and has gathered his men to search for it. The safest thing for now is to let me have some of my men drive all of you to your yacht so you can leave the country until we have them in custody.”
Alon rolled his eyes at Francois. “These guys are all over the place. They aren’t just here in Rome. They were spying on us at the villa in Israel, and they shot at us on the highway when we were driving to the harbor at Caesarea.”
“That’s why the safest place you can be right now is out at sea on your yacht. We’ve also been in contact with an Israeli warship off the coast in international waters ready to escort your boat back to Israel.”
Alon stared at Francois with a newfound respect. The real Swiss security men really knew their stuff.
While they were still talking, a large black SUV pulled up alongside their table in the piazza, causing Alon to move his hand toward the gun under his shirt. Francois’s policeman’s mind immediately read his body language and quickly assured the group that the vehicle contained some of his men who would be transporting them to the yacht.
John stroked Ariella’s hair before sitting up in his chair. “So much for a quiet drink and dinner.” The exhausted group nodded their understanding and slowly rose from the table. John approached the SUV with Ariella and looked back at the others with a playful grin. “We call shotgun.” Opening the front passenger door, he realized that the man already sitting there actually had a shotgun and was glaring back at him. John quickly gave him a sheepish look and closed the door.
Leo and the others piled into the SUV and looked out at Morelli, who was standing by the table as if he was the last one to be picked to play a game of kickball. “Aren’t you coming, Anthony?”
Morelli walked over and took Leo by the arm. “I’m afraid not, Leo. My place is here. I’ll be fine. Francois and his men are watching over all of us.”
Right on cue, a second black SUV pulled up behind the first. Morelli hesitated. “We’ll join up again after we get control of the situation. Besides, I need to go pick up my car.”
“You mean my car.” Leo was relentless. Morelli laughed knowing that this would be an ongoing thing for years to come. He grabbed a bottle of wine off the linen tablecloth and tossed the waiter some Euros before climbing into the backseat of the second SUV with Francois. Within minutes, the two vehicles were speeding off into the dark streets, one headed for the harbor, the other for the Vatican.
The SUV holding Leo’s group raced out from the city center toward the harbor on the Autostrada Roma Fiumicino. Everyone except for the security men leaned back in their seats and began to relax when Lev’s voice crackled over Alon’s radio.
“Alon, do you read me? What’s your location?”
“We’re on our way, Lev. We should be there in less than thirty minutes.”
“Change of plans. Right after we came onboard the yacht, a bunch of vehicles with guys in suits armed with guns drove up to the dock alongside the yacht. We’re pulling away from the dock and out into the harbor as we speak.”
Alon shouted to the driver of the SUV. “Are those your men?”
The driver appeared horrified. “We were trying to keep a low profile. They’re not ours.”