Hostaged Vatican

by Gar Wilson

  4

  "So that's the situation, John," Yakov Katzenelenbogen said as he finished explaining the Vatican incident to Trent.

  Trent and Calvin James had joined Katz at the Bacardo Lounge on Taraval Street. The quiet bar was almost deserted at two o'clock in the afternoon. They sat at a small table in a corner of the room. There was no waitress on duty, and the bartender seemed to be more interested in his regular customers. They drank considerably more than the three strangers.

  "So the Vatican has been seized by terrorists," Trent mused, a slight smile playing at his lips.

  "I fail to see the humor in this situation," Katz said, raising a glass of white wine to his lips. It was the only drink the Israeli had ordered since entering the Bacardo.

  "Not humorous," Trent explained. "But it is ironic. After all, the Holy Inquisition was carried out by order of the Vatican. Numerous popes supported it for almost three hundred years. No one is quite sure how many thousands of people were accused of heresy and witchcraft. They were tortured and maimed, subjected to unspeakable torments. Of course, most confessed. The lucky ones were hanged or decapitated. Others were burned at the stake..."

  "Does this history lesson have a point?" James asked, clearly annoyed.

  "Just that the Vatican has been involved in some of the worst acts of international terrorism in history," Trent stated. "And now the tables have turned."

  "None of the people who are now being held hostage at the Vatican were involved in the atrocities of the Inquisition," Katz declared. "The terrorists are holding more than a thousand innocent people captive, and they've already killed a number of them. Now, do you really consider that poetic justice for something others did in the past?"

  "I didn't say that, Yakov," Trent assured him. "As you've pointed out, the terrorists have seized control of an entire nation. That's something that can't be condoned. God knows what might happen next."

  "There's another reason to protect the Vatican," Katz stated. "Whatever else can be said about it, the Vatican is a stronghold of art, knowledge and culture. Its museums contain priceless pieces of our past. Fanatics destroyed the great library of Alexandria, and hundreds of works of science, literature and history were lost forever. We can't let that happen again."

  "No, we can't," Trent agreed. "Of course, I'll join you for this assignment. However, I hope you realize I'm not really experienced in this sort of thing."

  "You survived one mission with us already," James replied. "That makes you a professional, man. Besides, you're a ninja. This is the sort of thing you dudes are suppose to do."

  "I've often wondered what I'd do if you wanted me for another mission," Trent admitted. "I would have guessed that I'd agree immediately. But now, faced with the request, I find myself wondering if I can measure up to what you need."

  "Shit," James scoffed. "I saw you back at the dojo. You beat the hell out of three black belt karate experts."

  "Wait a minute," Trent urged. "I beat up three guys who knew some karate, but I wouldn't call any of them experts. Tony McCoy probably got his black belt from a mail-order house, and he taught the other two. That's not the same as taking on professional terrorists or other ninja. The ninja at the Vatican might be better trained and more experienced than I am."

  "You proved your courage and skill when we fought TRIO last year," Katz commented. "I don't think you're afraid of getting killed in combat. Is there any reason you don't want to take on the ninja at the Vatican?"

  "Oh, I want to take them on," Trent said in a firm voice. "Whoever they are, they represent the dark side of ninjutsu, the side that most people associate the ninja with. They're obviously mercenaries and murderers without honor. They spit on the traditions of ninjutsu that my mother's family hold sacred. My doubts are largely because I could become careless without realizing it. That could jeopardize your mission and the lives of everyone involved."

  "The fact you're willing to consider that possibility assures me you won't make that mistake," Katz said with a smile. "We really could use your help, John."

  Katz was impressed by Trent's honesty and his insight. He realized that his martial arts skill did not make him a superman and that he still had much to learn. Katz believed that this was the foundation of wisdom. John Trent was similar to the late Keio Ohara in many ways. There was even a physical resemblance.

  But Ohara was dead, and Trent could not replace him; he could not reunite Phoenix Force with their slain comrade. Katz realized it would be a mistake to think of Trent as Keio, the sort of mistake that could be hazardous to both Phoenix Force and Trent.

  "I'll have to close up the dojo and get some equipment for the mission," Trent announced. "I have the weapons I'll need, but my pistol and shotgun are registered with the state of California and the city of San Francisco."

  "We can supply the firearms," James assured him. "As I recall, you prefer the same piece I do — a .45 caliber Colt automatic. Right?"

  "Yes," Trent confirmed. "Unlike the rest of you, I'm not accustomed to full-auto weapons. I'd better stick with the weapons I'm familiar with. My shotgun is a twelve-gauge Winchester pump. Anything similar would be fine."

  "That won't be a problem," Katz promised. "Now, we'd better get out of here. There's a lot to do and not much time to do it in."

  * * *

  Phoenix Force and John Trent arrived in Rome less than twelve hours later. As Brognola promised, a reception committee was waiting for them on the runway. Three men standing by a blue-and-gold tour bus watched the plane roll to a stop. When the Phoenix Force warriors stepped down from the plane, they saw that two of the "welcome wagon" members were dressed in camouflage uniforms and that the third wore a gray suit and striped tie, which usually spelled "bureaucrat."

  "Welcome to Italy," the man in the suit said as the six new arrivals approached. He had a marked New England accent. "My name is Gerald Gardener. I'm with the American embassy in Rome."

  Gardener was indeed a bureaucrat, probably CIA or NSA. He certainly did not resemble the secret agents found in movies. The embassy official had a pear-shaped body and a double chin that was working on a third fold. The guy was a desk jockey who had not been in the field for a long time — if ever. The men of Phoenix Force knew that most intelligence personnel are office workers who shuffle papers and operate computers.

  "This is Captain Bianco," Gardener said, introducing one of the soldiers. "I'm afraid I don't remember the sergeant's name."

  "His name is Como," Bianco supplied. "The sergeant doesn't speak English. We're with the Carabinieri Parachute Battalion. Pleased to meet you, gentlemen. We can certainly use all the help we can get."

  The Carabinieri had the reputation of being one of the finest elite forces of Western Europe. Italy's counterterrorist unit — with the somewhat confusing title of Squadron Anticommando — was usually recruited from the Carabinieri.

  Captain Bianco was a tall slender man with broad shoulders and a muscular chest. His features were pleasant enough, although nondescript. He had the sort of face that would blend into a crowd.

  Sergeant Como was almost a head shorter than Bianco. The NCO's compact frame was thickly muscled. His wide face was not a work of beauty. Como's nose resembled a doorknob, and his small dark eyes were too far apart and were capped by bushy black brows. A Hollywood casting director would have certainly selected him to play a villain, probably a Mafia henchman.

  "I'm sure that none of you fellows are using your real names," Gardener commented. "We can wait to find out what we're suppose to call you. Right now we'd better get out of the public eye."

  "I suggest we head directly to the Vatican," Captain Bianco announced. "There is a temporary base of operations set up outside the enemy position."

  "Good idea," Katz agreed. "We'll do our sightseeing later."

  "At least we'll get a good look at the Vatican," Rafael Encizo remarked as he watched the porters lift two crates from the belly of the plane to the bus.

  "Do they belong to you?" Ga
rdener demanded. The embassy man suddenly started sweating beads of ice. "Hey, you can't just charge in there like John Wayne..."

  "How about Audie Murphy?" Calvin James inquired with a straight face.

  "This is an international crisis situation," Gardener stated, desperately mopping his brow. "Certainly we're all outraged by this terrorist act, but the United States can't afford to be associated with some sort of rash cowboy shoot-em-up nonsense."

  "That's not how we operate," Katz assured him. "However, what America really can't afford is to appear to be powerless against the threat of terrorism. But let's discuss this in a less public atmosphere, as you suggested, Mr. Gardener."

  Katz recognized the value of tact. He did not want Gardener to feel they regarded him as a total idiot. Offending people does not make them more willing to cooperate, and Phoenix Force preferred to cooperate with the U.S. Embassy. Still, their mission came first. Phoenix Force had successfully carried out previous missions without the assistance of any government agency. They would do it again if necessary.

  Phoenix Force and John Trent followed Gardener and the two Carabinieri paratroopers to the bus. The crates had already been loaded into the vehicle. Captain Bianco spoke briefly to the driver. The man nodded. When everyone was inside, the bus rolled forward.

  "We're heading straight for the Vatican." the captain assured the others. "Perhaps now is a good time to bring you gentlemen up to date on the situation."

  "We've established communications with the terrorists," Gardener told Phoenix Force as he wiped his neck and face with a soiled handkerchief. "We'd like to talk our way out of this mess without resorting to bloodshed."

  "There's already been bloodshed," Manning reminded him. "How many people have the terrorists killed? Fifteen?"

  "Twenty-two that we know of," Bianco answered. "That's how many bodies the terrorists have tossed over the walls of the Vatican. Most of the dead were Swiss Guards and Vatican security policemen. A few were tourists and employees. The terrorists also released over thirty seriously wounded."

  "We're not going to let those bastards walk," Calvin James said. He was not asking a question. The badass from Chicago was stating a fact.

  "This isn't Colombia," Gardener stated. "You can't just crash a tank into the Vatican and start shelling the place."

  "I knew we forgot something," David McCarter said, rolling his eyes in mock despair. "We didn't pack our bloody tank. Maybe we can get one from the rent-a-tank dealers. What sort of irresponsible morons do you think we are, Gardener?"

  "Calm down, Mr. Black," Katz urged, referring to McCarter by his cover name. The Briton had kept his mouth shut up until now as he tried to keep his short temper and sharp tongue under control. Katz realized this was not an easy task for McCarter. "I'm certain Mr. Gardener didn't mean to offend us."

  "Look," Gardener began, "the terrorists claim that they're in a position to trigger total destruction if any aggressive action is taken. They might kill thousands of people and cause incredible destruction within the Vatican and the entire city of Rome."

  "Do they claim to have a nuclear device?" Manning inquired. He did not ask the question lightly. Phoenix Force had encountered terrorist plots that had involved nuclear weapons in the past.

  "They're threatening to do something that would be just as bad," the embassy man answered. "They could be bluffing, but we can't be sure..."

  "What the hell is it?" McCarter snapped angrily.

  "The Vatican is located along a major fault line that extends throughout Rome," Captain Bianco explained. "The terrorists claim to have set up some sort of impact explosive that could drive a blast into the fault line and create a major earthquake."

  "Sounds like bullshit," James snorted. "Would something like that work?"

  "Mr. Green," Katz began, using Manning's cover name, "you're our explosives expert. What's your opinion?"

  "It's possible," the Canadian demolitions pro answered. "Any large explosion can make the ground tremble. The greater the explosion, the greater the shock waves. A fault line is essentially a crack in the bedding of the earth. A lot of things affect them, including the natural vibrations of the earth, erosion and lunar tides. Naturally, when a crack is jarred violently or continuously, it will expand. When the fault expands, the force causes violent vibrations through the bedding planes. It can result in a pretty nasty earthquake."

  "Is this all theory or have people caused earthquakes before?" Encizo asked.

  "Minor quakes have been caused by accident," Manning confirmed. "Usually by blasting operations at a mining site or when drilling for oil. None of these quakes have been serious, but then none involved detonating explosives in a major fault line. Now that's what the terrorists would have to do. The explosives would have to be underground, either at the fault or at e large fissure connected to it. If the terrorists knew where to set the explosives, and if they have the equipment to drill deep enough, then they could precipitate a quake."

  "We'd better assume the threat is genuine," Katz declared. He turned to Gardener and Bianco. "Who is involved in the communications with the terrorists?"

  "The Italian government of course," Gardener explained. "And the U.S. State Department. The British, French, Germans, Japanese and Swiss have all sent officials to participate, but the Italians and Americans are handling most of it."

  "But the real authority who will decide what action to take is the pope," Bianco added.

  "The pope?" Encizo said, raising his eyebrows. "Is the pope in Italy?"

  "He canceled the rest of his tour and returned when he learned what had happened," Bianco explained. "His Holiness called together all the members of the Curia who are not being held hostage at the Vatican. They're discussing the matter even as we speak. They may have come to a decision by now."

  "I'm sure the pope will want to handle this in a peaceful manner," Gardener stated. "After all, the Vatican is his country. It's a sovereign nation and a holy city."

  "Dozens of battles have been fought in Jerusalem," Katz commented. "Holy cities are not immune to violence."

  "Back in 1979 hundreds of terrorists seized the Grand Mosque in Mecca," Encizo recounted. "Saudi soldiers laid siege to the mosque. It took about two weeks, and more than two hundred people were killed in the process, but they took out the terrorists."

  "That's right," McCarter added. "The terrorists who survived were tried and found guilty. The Saudis executed sixty-three of them in 1980. They were beheaded in a public execution."

  "Barbaric," Gardener said with disgust.

  "Decapitation isn't any worse than any other form of capital punishment," Katz said with a shrug. "Probably more humane than some. If capital punishment is to be a deterrent, it probably serves that function better if the executions are public."

  "We don't execute criminals in Italy," Captain Bianco stated. "And the government won't deport criminals to countries that practice capital punishment unless the death penalty is waived."

  "My point isn't whether capital punishment is right or wrong," Encizo explained. "The Saudis dealt with a situation similar to this Vatican mess. They were hard-line all the way, taking direct and ruthless action and executing survivors. Say what you want, the fact remains that nobody has tried to take over the Grand Mosque again."

  "Somehow I doubt the pope will appreciate that pearl of wisdom," Gardener sighed. "And the American government isn't going to be involved in a bloodthirsty raid. My God, don't you realize there are television crews and newspaper reporters from a dozen countries outside the Vatican. The whole world is watching."

  "It's better that they see us kick ass than kowtow to the demands of terrorists," James replied.

  "We'll figure out strategy later," Katz announced. "But I want to be certain you understand something, Mr. Gardener. We don't work for you, your embassy or whatever government agency you belong to. I trust you were told that you are to assist us, not supervise us."

  "I was told that your authority comes directly from th
e White House," Gardener replied, unable to conceal his resentment. "I'm suppose to take orders from you. By the way, I was told to expect five of you, not six."

  'Tm not a regular," John Trent explained. He had remained silent until now. "They're in charge, not me. "I'm not giving anyone orders, but I'm not following any either unless one of these five gives them to me."

  "Is that a fact?" Gardener said, glaring at Trent.

  "Those are the rules," Trent said with a smile. "I didn't make them up."

  "Do we have any new information about the terrorists?" Manning inquired.

  "Their spokesman calls himself Mohammed Radmeni," Captain Bianco answered. "He doesn't speak Italian, so conversations have been conducted in English. Thanks to a rifle microphone, we've tape-recorded Radmeni speaking with some of his men. The language they spoke was Farsi, not Arabic."

  "Farsi," Encizo said thoughtfully. "That means he's probably an Iranian. What about the European terrorists? We were told they might be Basque separatists."

  "We're almost certain that's correct," Bianco nodded.

  "And the ninja?" Trent inquired.

  "Ninja?" Gardener frowned. "You mean that joker in the Halloween costume who thinks he's Spider-man? That's probably just a trick the terrorists pulled to try to unnerve us. I've been assured that ninja no longer exist."

  "That's a relief," Trent said, unable to repress a smile.

  "We'll need to study maps and blueprints of the Vatican," Manning declared. "Of course, we'll need to see the setup for ourselves in order to plan a strategy."

  "Hopefully your services won't be needed," Gardener returned.

  "Wish for whatever you want," Encizo said with a shrug. "But taking action tends to get more accomplished."

  "And don't set your hopes too high, mate," McCarter told Gardener. "We've never been sent on a mission that ended up with us sitting on the bench, and I don't think it's going to happen this time."