Anne spotted an elderly man waiting to cross the street toward the restaurant and quickly offered him her arm. She made small talk with him as they strolled towards the restaurant—Anne wanted to see how many people were inside.
“A lovely night, a lovely night indeed,” the man said in accented English.
Quickly looking in as they walked by, she could make out about a dozen diners located at five tables. Demir wasn’t one of them. After thanking the gentleman for the walk, Anne made her way to the alley behind the restaurant where there was a man standing with his back to her. The alley was narrow and lit only by one lamppost. Anne walked quietly behind the man until he finally heard her. Surprised, he quickly turned, immediately identifying himself as one of the men from the photos.
Anne had her silencer gun prepared and without a word shot the man directly in the groin. As he yelled and fell to the ground, she placed her boot on his head and applied pressure to his temple. “How many of you are there?”
“What? Ah, no English, no English!” he cried.
Anne rolled her eyes and placed more pressure on his head. “How many, idiot? Tell me or you won’t be leaving this alley.”
“Don’t you get it, I no speak English, bitch!”
With a sigh, Anne shot him in the knee. The man’s screams were muffled by Anne’s hand. He curled up on his side, hugging his leg and begging her to stop. Blood pooled beneath him as he sobbed.
“Where are the two female priests?” Anne asked.
“Eat shit, you bitch!” he said in a weak breath. He appeared to be slipping in and out of consciousness.
Anne frowned. “And here I am thinking you don’t speak English.”
She aimed at his head and pulled the trigger. A thread of smoke curled out of the silencer.
Anne dragged his limp body behind a dumpster and covered the drying blood with debris from the restaurant. She then entered the rear door and walked into the kitchen area. The staff froze and stared at her in surprise.
“Here writing an article for a U.S. travel magazine,” she said with a smile. “I just want to look in the restaurant to get an idea of how many people are dining.” She wanted to know how many people looked suspicious. As she peeked out the door, she spotted her date, Demir.
Turning her attention to the bar, Anne saw a familiar face. He appeared as though he was trying to hide from anyone walking in from the street. Could that be who she thought it was? A closer look, and she knew.
It was Anthony, the man she met at the Antica Pizzeria in Rome. She was under surveillance even back then. She was so foolish. All her training, and she’d been stupid enough to let her guard down. Her chest burned with shame.
With the two men in the van accounted for, Anthony at the bar, and the man in the alley, if there really were five, that left one somewhere. Demir?
She exited the restaurant and walked back in through the front door, knowing the two in the van would be watching. She made her way to the restroom and quickly removed her hat and heavy top, giving her the look that caught most men’s attention. As she approached the table, Demir cast a smile.
“Hello Demir, it’s nice to see you again. Thanks again for the information. I’m sure I’ll be able to put it to good use.”
“That’s good. The men you’ve received this information about can be very aggressive, but because they aren’t aware of you, you’ll be safe.”
Ha! So safe that I’m surrounded by them.
They talked casually for a while, Anne waiting to hear something helpful. Finally, Demir said, “It is a shame about those missing women. But I am sure that they are alive and well.” He smiled wide, showing all his teeth, and Anne’s stomach turned. “At least you are safe, Anne. We should enjoy this special night, yes? Would you like to join me for an after-dinner drink at our little pub?”
Anne knew this would mean the end of her, but it didn’t matter. She had to take care of things now. “Sure. Just let me use the ladies’ room first.”
As she went toward the bathroom she approached Anthony, who pretended not to notice her. “Hi Anthony, or whatever your name is.”
Anthony immediately stood and lunged at her, but as fast as he moved, she pulled the trigger faster and put a bullet through his neck. Screams filled the building. She turned to Demir and shoved the gun under his ribs, guiding him out the front door towards the van. The restaurant was silent with horror as Anthony lay dying on the floor.
As they approached the van with the gun in Demir’s side, he looked hard at the two men sitting in the front and tried to give them a warning look. Before they caught on and with her other hand, Anne was able to shoot both men in rapid succession and still keep the other gun against Demir.
“Oh my fuck!” he screamed.
“Move,” Anne barked.
Now it was just her and Demir, but she was sure he had others that reported to him. As she got to her car, she taped his hands behind his back and put him in the front seat next to her.
“What are you doing?” he demanded, his voice tinged with panic.
“Taking you for a ride.”
The day before, Anne found an abandoned barn located outside of town. With a bucket of water, rope, and a small garbage bag, she had everything she needed. Laying Demir on a table and restraining him with the rope, she began her interrogation.
“I’m not here to pamper you. As you just observed, I’ll have no problem killing you. I’m quite aware that those men were set up, by you, to eliminate me. Keep the money and take care of me—a nice idea, in theory. But not in practice.” She ran a hand lazily through her hair and sighed as if it had been a long day at the office and she was ready to go home. Her voice sounded tired and sympathetic. As though Demir was an unruly student and she the principal of the school. “Demir, where are the priests who disappeared in France?”
“You’re no fucking security consultant!”
“As a matter of fact, I kind of am, just with a bit of a twist.” She showed him the gun. “Where are the priests?”
“I don’t know.”
“Demir my friend, yes you do. If you tell me, you just might live! If you don’t, it will be a very slow and painful death. Your choice.”
“You bitch, I don’t know!”
Anne shook her head. “That name. I keep hearing it today.”
She poured water in the bag and pulled it over his head. As he began to choke and gag, she asked him again. “Where are the priests?”
She removed the bag; Demir coughed and vomited. “I told you I don’t know anything about any priests!”
Anne pulled the bag out and filled it again, sighing heavily. As she was ready to pull it over his head he yelled, “Stop, please stop!”
“When the bag goes over your head this time, I’m walking out the door and leaving. I will ask one last time: Where are the priests?”
“I was contacted on Thursday about two female priests but I don’t know anything about their location!”
Anne began pulling the bag over his head.
“Stop! Maybe I do know where they are… but you have to promise to let me go!”
“Where are they?”
“Bruges,” he panted.
“Where in Bruges?”
“At an upstairs flat across from the carousel. Now please let me go, I won’t say anything to anyone.”
Anne filled the bag and placed it over his head as he screamed. She taped it around his neck.
Then she walked out the door.
CHAPTER thirteen
Anne had little time to spare. Word would get to the kidnappers in Bruges about the four killings at the restaurant, though they wouldn’t know about Demir’s status for some time. The 70-minute drive would give her time to put a plan in place that would hopefully save the priests. She had to draw the kidnappers out of the flat.
Anne arrived in Bruges around midnight. She didn’t like the plan she had in mind as it could destroy a beautiful building in a historical area of town, but she had littl
e choice. If she could pull it off, the building would stay in place and the smoke bombs that would drift through the vents should draw everyone outside, where she could effectively complete her mission.
As Anne placed herself near the carousel, there were six potential buildings where the men could be staying. None of the concierges in the buildings could verify the men.
Next, she headed to a nearby market to ask the manager if he’d seen them. By a stroke of luck, she spotted one of them. He was olive-skinned with black hair, appeared to speak little English, and was constantly glancing around as if someone might see him.
Anne watched him walk across the plaza to his building; red brick with white granite trim, three stories, no elevator. She remained on a bench in the plaza for the next four hours watching the building.
That night Anne stayed in her car making sure no one left the building. As she monitored the doors, she began putting her plan in place. Finally entering the building, she found the location of the furnaces and the ventilation system. There she placed three canisters which would smoke out the rooms, indicating a fire. Outside she would have incendiary bombs that would create the appearance of a fire to anyone looking out the windows. This would certainly get whoever was in the building to leave.
To make sure no one left through the back, Anne pushed the dumpster against the door. The only exit was the front door. After activating the devices she stood behind her car and watched. The first people to leave were an older couple, rags held over their mouths. They were soon followed by a middle-aged man and his two dogs. Anne waited a while before two women dressed in black, their faces covered with cloths, stumbled out. The missing priests. They were followed by three men carrying something under their jackets.
Anne had to work fast—the police and fire department would be there soon. She walked directly behind the first of the three men. Without a moment to second-guess herself, she placed a bullet through his back and directly into his heart. As he crumpled to the ground and the other people looked around frantically, she fired two more shots, hitting both men in the head.
People were screaming now, the street erupting with chaos. Anne quickly grabbed the two priests and took them behind the carousel. “Follow me!” she told them.
“Merci, merci,” one of them panted, her eyes wild. The other threw her arms around Anne and wept.
CHAPTER fourteen
A few weeks had passed since Maria’s operation. She was now receiving chemotherapy twice a week and had lost a lot of weight and most of her hair. She was extremely weak, the girls doing most of the housework and even learning to cook with the help of their grandmother. The house was quiet, the air oppressive with lingering sadness and fear.
Charlotte was stopping by this evening to have dinner with John and the girls. John had invited her in hopes of achieving some semblance of peace. She brought Chinese food and a bottle of sparkling cider to share.
Charlotte lifted the food in the air. “I come bearing gifts!”
“You don’t know how glad I am to see you,” John said.
“Hi Auntie Charlotte,” Alka chirped.
“Hi honey,” Charlotte beamed, then took both of the girls in her arms. “Maria?” she whispered to John.
He pointed to the hall: She was still in bed. Charlotte pursed her lips and nodded.
As they sat for dinner, Maria still asleep in the bedroom, the girls were very inquisitive about what it was like being a cardinal and spending time with the pope.
“You must be the most important lady in the whole Vatican,” Kayla decided.
“No, the world!” Alka added.
“Ladies, I’ve had an exciting life. But the real story to be told is about your mom and dad and the love they have for one another.” Charlotte glanced up at John. “Your father is one of the most talented men anywhere in the world, and your mother is the best mom there is. Compared to them,” she shrugged nonchalantly, “I’m just a regular gal doing her job.”
Kayla giggled. “Dad’s the most talented man in the world? I don’t know about that.”
Smiling, John looked to Charlotte for an answer.
“Yeah right!” Alka chimed in, laughing.
“You mean ‘cause he’s an artist?” Kayla asked. “Or is he talented at everything? Because he doesn’t even know how to work a phone.”
“Kayla!” John said with mock offense.
“What? It’s true!”
Charlotte appeared to consider this as best she could before she burst out laughing, finally saying, “Well, he’s pretty special. That’s all I know.”
✽✽✽
With the two missing priests now back in Rome under close guard, Anne returned to the Vatican, her position no longer a secret. The highest levels of the Church had to make a decision to keep her retained or cut ties. She was obviously qualified and handled the recovery of the two priests with stealth, but there were still those in the Vatican who would do whatever they could to put an end to it.
Her contact requested a meeting in their normal room. “Ms. Lawrence, I always told you we wouldn’t care how you took care of our problems, and you certainly lived by those standards. We have to think about how we move ahead with your consulting agreement. There will be other problems unless we take care of the issues at the top. We aren’t sure who exactly is in charge of these atrocities, but if we can find them and put an end to them, maybe the Church can move forward.”
Anne nodded. “Bishop Sanchez, if you decide to keep me retained, I think I’ve done enough homework to bring this issue to an end.”
The bishop looked surprised. “Do you think we’re speaking about those close to the pontiff?”
“I do, and there are people outside the Vatican who are also involved. Here are my thoughts. The pontiff is in grave health and may not make it through the year. Some have one particular cardinal in mind to be elevated to the papal office. He’s an anti-female-priest and will do whatever he can to put an end to them. Though there are many female priests now, a special vote with the college of cardinals could reverse that ruling once and for all.”
“You understand your life will be at great risk if you decide to move ahead with your plan,” the bishop warned. “Whoever it is will make you the number one priority.”
Anne, quite calm, locked eyes with him. “Bishop Sanchez, this is more important to me than I imagined it would be. I was trained to leave my emotions aside and complete my job, but it’s hard not to think about the disgusting plan in place to kill female priests a few at a time. I’d like to continue what you hired me for, even with my own life at stake.”
Clasping his hands together, he smiled. “We had a feeling you’d say that. Go find the murderers and complete your mission. Be safe and know that whatever assets we have here are at your disposal.”
Anne had to contact Brett and probably get the ITA involved. She could handle whatever threats may exist in the Vatican, but just how many were involved outside was unknown.
CHAPTER fifteen
Maria was declining quickly. She was admitted to the hospital, slipping in and out of consciousness. John was now preparing himself and the girls for the inevitable. She was on a constant morphine drip. With her entire family at her side rotating visits, all anyone could do was pray.
John was worn out to the point of delirium, trying his best to hold it together for the girls. He tried to catch up on sleep but couldn’t bring himself to leave Maria’s side or even close his eyes. She needed him. If he could do anything for her, it was to share this time with her.
Dr. Brindt had called Charlotte asking if she could offer last rites. When she entered Maria’s room, her eyes immediately met John’s. He crossed the room in two steps and fell into her—she hugged him close.
“Let’s pray,” she whispered.
The family surrounding Maria holding hands, Charlotte offered some prayers before turning to John.
“Do you want to speak now, John?”
He drew a deep, shaky breath
and looked down at his wife, a broken shell of her normal self, quickly caving in. “My dearest Maria,” he said, his throat tight, “when we first met, your smile magnetized my eyes. Your kindness filled the room. You gave us two beautiful daughters who have been the loves of our life.” He then broke down in tears as he and the girls hugged. Charlotte stepped back. That was all.
Though thin, her head wrapped in a coral-colored skullcap, Maria was still the most beautiful woman John had ever met. His best friend, sidekick, and lover was dying. A heavy silence descended as he bent down to kiss her goodbye for the last time.
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