by Rick Jones
Vatican City
The Following Morning
Several hours after the replica of the Sacra Culla was removed from the Basilica di Santa Maria Maggiore, Kimball was called into the pontifical chamber inside the Apostolic Palace. After he took his rightful seat before the papal desk, Pope John Paul III greeted him with a genuine smile, the man pleased with the effort Kimball and his team had put in to counter and neutralize Abdallah Kattan’s mission plan.
“I’m eternally grateful for what you have done, Kimball. I truly am.”
“There’s nothing to be grateful for,” said Kimball. “We simply got lucky on this one.”
“Perhaps. But it was you who discovered the fact that the Vatican had been compromised by those who held hostile intent in their hearts. If you hadn’t discovered the truth, who knows what might have happened.”
“If I may be candid, Your Holiness, the breach of the ranks should never have happened to begin with.”
“I agree,” stated the pontiff. “And believe me, Kimball, we’re doing all we can to make the Vatican safe on all fronts. Vatican Intelligence is updating all biographical records and reexamining all protocols. Father Ferrano’s record was correct regarding his American father and Syrian mother, with his American name the name of record. His Syrian name, given to him by his mother after the death of his father, was not recorded since the civil war had broken out and records were not systematically kept. Therefore, Joseph Ferrano, or Faisal Naba, was able to fill in the gaps over time by hacking into systems and implanting a false biographical history.”
“And Cardinal Alnasseri?”
“Unfortunately, I believe that the real Cardinal Alnasseri has been embraced by God. There was no way to determine that a doppelganger had usurped his position to breach the ranks of the church. Vatican Intelligence is also working on that front to assure that such activity never happens again.”
Kimball nodded, believing that ‘working’ on the problems would not be enough, since there was no sure way to stop ambition if it was great enough.
“But there’s another reason why I called you to my chamber,” said the pontiff.“It’s in regard to the Brimstone Diaries.”
“In what way?”
The pontiff cocked his head as if to say, ‘you know what I’m talking about,’ then asked, “When you were performing your inquiries of Father Ferrano inside the Comm Center of Vatican Intelligence, did you by chance alter or disable the computerization of the Vatican’s Vault?”
“You know I’m fairly computer illiterate,” he answered.
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“Why would you even ask me such a thing?”
“I ask you, Kimball, because the Brimstone Diaries are once again missing. Someone has taken it from the Vault.”
“I guess your vault wasn’t impregnable after all, which proved my point, Your Holiness. You can’t stop ambition if it’s great enough.”
“Kimball, that book is a holy relic whose preamble of writings had been penned by Saint Peter. If you know anything about its whereabouts, you need to tell me now.”
“I had nothing to do with its theft,” he answered evenly.
But his answer did not go without a disturbing expression from the pontiff, who raised an eyebrow in suspicion. “So that you know, Kimball, Vatican Intelligence is looking into this.”
“That’s fine.”
“If that book finds its way into hostile hands, it could be detrimental to the lives written within those pages.”
“Which was my argument to begin with, if you remember.”
“That is not your call, Kimball. That book belongs inside the Holy Vault as a treasure.”
Kimball sat there like a child being scolded, the man quiet and solemn.
“Do you know where the book is?” the pontiff asked in a voice that was firm.
Kimball shrugged. “I had nothing to do with its theft.”
Far from being appeased, the pontiff said, “Then you may go. And be assured, if Vatican Intelligence discovers otherwise, this will not bode well for you if anything happens to it.”
“Duly informed, Your Holiness.”
The pope’s features quickly softened. “Kimball ...I don’t want anything adverse to come out of this situation between you and the church. You’re an important part of this community, a major asset. But if you know the whereabouts of the book and if it should happen to show up inside the Vault, no questions will be asked. I promise.”
“Understood.”
“Please take my words into consideration.”
“Of course.”
The pontiff sighed in what Kimball took to be a sign of regret. “You may now leave my chamber,” he said. “And please, remember that you’re a Vatican Knight. Which means: Loyalty above all else except honor.”
Standing, Kimball bowed in respect and left the pontiff’s chamber, leaving Pope John Paul III to wonder if Kimball had lost his way.
* * *
That evening, as Kimball Hayden walked along the Ponte Sant'Angelo Bridge that crossed over the Tiber River with the dome of the St. Peter’s Basilica in sight, he also bore with him a backpack. Earlier in the day he had confronted the pontiff and lied, an action that pained him to his core like punch to the solar plexus. But Kimball believed that this necessary evil was essential because his job as a Vatican Knight was to protect those who could not protect themselves. And as long as the Brimstone Diaries existed, he knew that the messianic bloodline would forever be in jeopardy.
Standing along the concrete rail flanked by two statues that had been sculpted by Bernini and Morelli, Kimball removed the tome from his backpack and placed it on the rail. Opening the cover, he glanced the tips of his fingers over the Aramaic scrip that had been penned by the hand of Saint Peter, the first pope. A blessed book, for sure, he thought, as the feel of the parchment beneath his fingertips were rough from age. Listed within these pages from the moment of Christ’s crucifixion to current times, were the names of good people who had no idea that the blood that ran through their veins was more noble than the blood that ran through the veins of kings and queens. And yet they died for it at the hands of fanatics and madmen.
Then he could hear the pontiff’s words inside his head as if it was a voice speaking to him from the end of a long and distant tunnel, the cadence hollow: And please, remember that you’re a Vatican Knight. Which means: Loyalty above all else except honor.
But, Kimball asked himself, is what I’m about to do honorable?
The Vatican Knight sighed as he allowed his fingertips to stand on the pages.
Loyalty above all else ...except honor.
Then one by one he began to tear the pages from the binding and allowed them to float downward to the running waters of the Tiber. In time, as he emptied the book of all its pages and felt a certain dirtiness as to what he was doing, which was perhaps an added stain to his soul, Kimball truly believed that he was saving the lives of good and innocent people since the book would no longer exist. When he had torn every page from the tome, he then knocked the ancient binding off the rail, which sailed briefly along the currents of the river, until it finally disappeared beneath the surface. The Brimstone Diaries, whose beginning pages were started by Saint Peter, was no more.
Leaning over the railing, Kimball retreated into his thoughts. Father Joseph Ferrano, or Faisal Naba, would be sent to a Blacksite to be mined. In whatever hole the governments of the United States and Italy pitched him, Ferrano would suffer a much greater pain than his injured hand that had nearly been divided. And Fariq, after the bones of his face settled and healed after they’d been wired together, would suffer the same fate as Abdallah Kattan, with the war against ISIS far from over. Robert Bowman, whose questioning viewpoints regarding God but shared the bloodline of Jesus, would work as part of the Vatican machine in South Africa, as a man with a new name and guise who would scribe documents on behalf of the pope.
And as for the Gemini twins, nothing o
f their backgrounds had been discovered as to how they obtained their fighting skills, or if they had been operatives planted so deep, nothing about them would be discovered other than they were the sons of a preacher gone mad.
Sighing, Kimball closed his eyes until he could hear only the rush of the water beneath him. As long as fanatics and madmen continued to walk the Earth, he thought, and with good elements always contesting evil, the Vatican Knights would always serve as the force to maintain the balance between the Darkness and the Light. And if he’s capable, Kimball knew that he would always serve as the fulcrum between sinner and saint.
I work in the Dark to serve the Light.
Opening his eyes, and as the last few sheets of the Brimstone Diaries floated on the river’s surface before becoming saturated and forever disappearing, Kimball Hayden had one last stop to make. Pushing off from the railing as the angel sculptures looked down on him, Kimball made his way to the grottos beneath the basilica.
EPILOGUE
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The Burial Chambers beneath St. Peter’s Basilica
Vatican City
The ancient hallway was long and had a low ceiling, which caused Kimball to bend slightly at the waist so as not to strike his head against the arched ceiling. Electric torches lit the way, having replaced the aged ones long ago. Nevertheless, the illumination was minimal with the feeble light casting macabre shadows along the walls, as if they were caused by dancing flames. When he reached the tomb of Leviticus, his one-time lieutenant and close friend, he kissed the cool marble stone of his burial chamber and thought about how much he missed him.
After spending a moment in gratitude and worship, he then moved on to the tomb that housed Bonasero Vessucci, a friend who had been much more than that. He had become a man whom he had grown to love and cherish, as if the bond between them was between father and son.
Placing his forehead against the tomb, Kimball began to speak as if Bonasero was alive and well. “I miss you,” Kimball said, smiling faintly. “It’s been rough, however.” Then the Vatican Knight sat on the steps that led down into Bonasero’s chamber. “I talked to Leviticus,” he said.
There was an echoing of his voice inside the grotto.
A moment later, as the chamber went from subterranean cool to a comforting warmth, he closed his eyes as a hand alit softly upon his shoulder. Within moments he could feel this indescribable pleasure swim slowly throughout his body, this alien feeling eclipsing him like the ripples of a pond spreading outward. It was the feeling of absolute peace.
“I destroyed the tome against the wishes of the pope,” he said. “Worse, I lied to him. I told him that I had nothing to do with the tome’s theft when, in fact, I disabled the security system when I was making my inquiries on another matter, raided the Vault, and took the book.”
“Did you feel that your heart was in the proper place?” a voice said from behind.
It was gentle and kind and paternal, the voice of a saint.
“I felt that the book was a detriment to the lives of others. It truly was a Brimstone Diary.”
“Kimball, do we as men see all things differently? Do the enemies on both sides of a war see their cause as the just one, even though they see this cause from opposite ends of the spectrum?”
“I’m tired,” he said, “of trying to determine between what’s right and what’s wrong.”
“The difference between right and wrong, Kimball, is up to the man who looks at the problem that lies before him. You made a judgment that you believed served a purpose as a Vatican Knight in the end, did you not? You believed that if the book was once again appropriated, then the lives of good and innocent people would be in jeopardy; therefore, you took what you thought was the proper action to see that this never happens again. These people are now and forever safe due to your actions.”
“But I lied to the pontiff.”
“And this pains you?”
“It does. I’m not sure if he would understand.”
“Perhaps not, Kimball. Be we make mistakes. That’s what makes us human and less like a god, don’t you think?”
“I’m far from perfect.”
“Yes, you are. But you’re also a man with good judgment who believes that what he does is for the good of all, no matter the misstep behind the action. If you truly feel contrition for the act of the lie, Kimball, then state the truth before the one you lied to and accept the consequences. Perhaps then your conscience will be cleansed, yes?”
“I feel the act of the lie has stained me deeply, and that the Light is now beyond my reach.”
“Perhaps, Kimball, you sense remorse. And is remorse not a part of a man with good conscience?”
Kimball sighed, not wanting this indescribable warmth to disappear. And then:
“Perhaps.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. Serving the church in a manner that you do, Kimball, is quite valuable. The Vatican recognizes this fact. Your presence here guarantees the one thing expected from a Vatican Knight, and that is to protect those who can’t protect themselves. Always remember that. Maybe, just maybe, the pontiff will see this as well, should you decide to confess your action you believe to be wrong. But I’m sure that he will see a way to forgive you ...I know I do.”
When the hand fell away from his shoulder, the warmth of absolute bliss left with it as well. As he opened his eyes and turned to look down the long hallway behind him, nobody was there.
After kissing the tomb of Bonasero Vessucci good-bye, Kimball returned to the Apostolic Palace and made his confession before the pontiff, and made it known that the Brimstone Diaries were forever lost.
And in the end, like the Voice of the Hand had stated, John Paul III had seen the Light of Kimball’s decision and forgave him.
THE END
Table of Contents
PROLOGUE
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
EPILOGUE
Table of Contents
PROLOGUE
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
EPILOGUE
