Concealed within the dense mass of branches and leaves, Tonita had remained still and quiet, as Dominic slowly circled the walls and pools of the baths, stopping every few feet to check his surroundings. Once he was sure that no one was following, he climbed the walls, using the old bricks as a foothold.
A task, Tonita determined that Dominic must have completed before, as he easily made it to the top of the three-story wall in little time and with little effort. She’d held her breath as Dominic quickly skirted along a dangerously crumbling edge to the crevice, and once there, he had virtually disappeared.
Now she felt assured that she and Dominic had not been followed. “We’re alone.” Tonita kept her voice low, just in case. “Come down.” She stared directly at the crevice high upon the wall.
Dominic couldn’t believe that she knew where he was. He stepped out. “How the hell did you know I was up here?” His tone was both inquisitive and irritated.
“I watched you climb up there.”
“How? There wasn’t anyone around when I did,” Dominic said as he made his way down the wall.
“Apparently there was.” Tonita smiled at him.
Dominic jumped down the last few feet, landing softly on the damp soil. “And what spy school did you go to?” He smiled back at her.
“I knew that you would come here. It was just a matter of when.”
Dominic stumbled as he came down the hill, closing the gap between them quickly. He reached for Tonita pulled her closer and hugged her tightly.
“We should get out of the open,” Tonita said, breaking his hold on her.
Dominic leaned in and kissed her.
This time she reached around him, wrapping her arms tightly under his. She let him kiss her for a long moment. “I’ve missed you,” she said pulling away from him. “I was scared. Confused.”
“Join the crowd,” Dominic said. Then smiled. “I’m just as scared and very confused.” The moment was over, even though they still selfishly clung to one another. “But I knew that I would find you here.”
“I couldn’t think of anyplace else to go,” Tonita said. “I was going to call that inspector and tell him that you’d been kidnapped.”
“Kidnapped?”
“What was I to think?” Tonita took a step away. “You yell ‘Don’t follow me,’ and the next thing I know you’re gone.”
“I knew the car had been sent by the Vatican.”
“What the hell for?”
“That part I’m not too sure of. I thought it was for a scolding. But when I got there I panicked. I ran.” He hesitated, then continued. “Tonita, I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t think that it’s a good idea for you to be with me.”
“Are you nuts?” She turned taking the single step in his direction that now separated them. “You got me all involved in this...whatever the hell it is, and now I’m staying involved with this and you,”
He smiled. “I knew you’d say that.”
“What else was I supposed to say?”
“You could have told me that I’m on my own. That you don’t need this. That you don’t need me.”
“Then I would have been lying.”
Dominic kissed her on the cheek. “Come on.” He took her hand and led her through the ruined walls, following the same path out that he had taken on the way in, leading them back to the street.
EIGHTEEN
DOMINIC REACHED FOR the door to his apartment, pressed down on the tongue of the latch and heard the click of the release. It was unlocked. He shot Tonita a sideways glance.
“What?”
“It’s unlocked.” He gave her a look that said it all.
“Don’t give me that look,” Tonita’s voice took on an edge. “You always forget to lock it.”
Dominic raised an eyebrow and a boyish grin exaggerated his delight, “But this time you were the last one out.”
Tonita raised her shoulders. “Sorry, what can I say? Don’t run off and tell me not to follow, anymore. Then I won’t run out of your apartment, wondering what the hell that was all about and forget to lock your door.” She smiled at him.
Dominic pushed the door open. He was about to mount a defense to her criticism but hesitated as a loud thump echoed down the short hallway, reaching Dominic and Tonita at the door.
They froze.
“The cat?” Tonita asked, putting a hand on Dominic’s arm.
“I don’t have a cat.”
“The neighbor’s then?” Tonita lowered her voice to a whisper.
Dominic brought his index finger to his lips, giving Tonita the quiet sign. She obliged and moved closer to his side.
Inside, another thump was followed by the choked sounds of whispers. Dominic stepped inside, followed closely by Tonita.
“Shouldn’t we be going in the other direction? Tonita asked holding tight to Dominic’s arm and matching his step.
Dominic stopped. Listened. “Stay here,” he whispered into Tonita’s ear.
Tonita backed off, ducking into the doorway of the hall bath.
Dominic watched her move into the hall bathroom. Then took a slow step forward. He wasn’t sure if he should creep in and surprise the intruder or rush in and surprise whoever it was. He wasn’t even sure if it was an intruder. But given the events of the last day and half, he was fairly sure that he could assume it was. He decided to go for it. He gave Tonita a quick glance, making sure that she was safe. He took a second longer allowing the adrenaline to build and then with a loud grunting roar, he rushed into the living room.
The room was fairly dark, lit only by the sunlight that eked its way through the grime and dirt that covered the outside of the windows. Rome was notorious for its air pollution, especially during the early nineteen seventy’s, and evidently these windows had not had a proper cleaning since then and by the looks of them, long before, Dominic thought, as he pulled up short and entered the room. His intent was to scare off whoever was inside and avoid a confrontation. He hadn’t thought about the fact that the door to apartment was behind him and so was Tonita. The intruder would have to make a dash for the hall and the door and hopefully not discover Tonita as he did. It really didn’t matter, Dominic soon realized as the plan to scare off the intruder didn’t work and instead he ran smack into the man.
The brown, cloak-covered man fell to the side as the force of Dominic's body hit him hard. He whimpered as he hit the wall, a crucifix falling from his hand.
Dominic pulled himself up, glanced at the man and the fallen crucifix. Then a sound caught his attention and he turned to see another man, older, lying on the floor, gasping for breath.
One man dressed in a monk’s cloak. The older man gasping, dressed in...“Shit what the hell is this?” Dominic screamed, as he recognized the uniform of a Catholic Priest.
A monk, a priest and a crucifix, Dominic thought that it sounded like the set up to some barroom joke. But this was not a joke and that was not an ordinary crucifix that they monk had been holding. It was about six inches long, silver or some silver-looking metal, and protruding from the back of it was a long ice pick-like dagger.
Dominic hesitated a moment trying to figure out, in as few seconds as possible, if the crucifix-ice pick-dagger belonged to the monk or to the priest. He didn’t have to wait long for the answer.
The monk lunged for the crucifix dagger.
Dominic lunged for the monk.
The monk reached the crucifix-ice pick before Dominic reached the monk. “You must die,” the monk said in deliberately precise English, with an odd Italian accent, and heaved his body at Dominic.
Together, they fell over the older priest, crashing down hard on him. He let out a whimper, and Dominic had a brief thought of concern for the old priest, but it quickly passed as the crucifix dagger was pressed nearer to his chest.
Dominic reached out, grabbed hold of the monk’s arm with both of his hands, and pushed. The monk was surprisingly strong, and despite Dominic’s continued resistance, the crucifix dagge
r edged nearer.
DROOL FELL FROM THE corner of the monk’s mouth, as the anticipation of the Key’s death filled him. The Key is remarkably weak, he thought. Not at all what he had considered, then he reconsidered. God of course was with him. Taking the strength away from the Key. It was his destiny to kill the Key. To preserve the secrets of the Pope and of the Church. The Jesuit and God had commanded him to act. “God will reward me in the afterlife for your death, and the Jesuit will reward me now, I am the destroyer of the Key. God bless me, Brother Salvatore, as your soldier,” he said, as he pushed with surprising ease against Dominic’s arms.
As if in slow motion, the crucifix dagger closed the gap between the sharp point of the crucifix and Dominic’s heart.
DOMINIC GRUNTED, GRITTED his teeth, and pushed back against the monks hand with everything that he had. It was not enough. The crucifix dagger closed the last few millimeters and Dominic could feel the pressure as the point of the crucifix dagger first pierced his shirt and then his skin, slipping easily through the muscles of his chest, growing nearer to his heart. As he watched the point slide into his chest he expected to feel a searing shock of pain, but instead, only felt the pressure of the point. An odd serenity slipped over Dominic. A strange curiosity kept his eyes glued to the crucifix as it slipped deeper into the pectoral muscles. Just as with a zebra, whose jugular was pierced by the canines of a lion, there was no pain, only panic followed by resolve.
The predator and the prey.
Dominic’s strength was giving out, he considered relaxing his arms and letting the point of the crucifix pierce his heart, ending the struggle. He couldn’t hold on much longer and the panic that had gripped him at first was now slipping away to the realization that this was going to be the death of him. He looked up into the sickly smile that spread across the monk’s face and a resolve made its presence known. In his final seconds of life random thoughts crossed his mind. Maybe this was the end God had intended for him. He had abandoned God after all, and just as Inspector Carrola had said the day before, “I hope that God does not need some time away from you.” Perhaps God did? He let his grip on the monk’s arm slacken.
Dominic could see what could only be described as sheer glee in Brother Salvatore’s eyes. The monk giggled, as he readied himself to plunge the crucifix dagger all the way into Dominic’s rapidly beating heart. His smile grew and nearly beamed. Dominic struggled against him. But the monk was more than he could manage.
HE COULD HARDLY CONTAIN himself. He was about to witness, no, partake in the death of the Key. All would be right when the Key was dead. All would be safe. No one would know of the truth and the deceptions that had been proclaimed or denied for decades. The church would continue. Brother Salvatore’s eyes closed. He pulled his full weight up and prepare to bare it down on the crucifix dagger and into the Key’s heart.
DOMINIC SAID A LAST silent prayer.
And just as the full weight of the monk’s body was about to bear down on the crucifix, the monk slumped to the side, falling onto Dominic. His grip on the crucifix dagger released.
Dominic remained still for a moment, then pushed the monk off of him. The crucifix dagger, now embedded into Dominic’s flesh, remained upright. Dominic followed the crucifix dagger protruding from his chest up to the nearly angelic face of Tonita, who stood with the heel of one of Dominic’s dress shoes at the ready to strike again onto the head of the monk.
NINETEEN
FEBRUARY 1945
Roosevelt Aviation School
Roosevelt Field, Naval Air Facility
“Bill?” A crew cut, straight-laced, scientific looking man stood in the doorway of the classroom.
Bill looked up from his notes. He immediately recognized the man as one of the men from his class earlier that day. The man looked twenty-two, maybe twenty four. By his ridged stance and the way he held his arms at his side, he had certainly come from a military background.
“Mind if I ask you a couple of questions?”
“Sure.” Bill stood up. “Come on in.”
“Your class today was a...” he fought for the words, “...interesting. I actually had a few questions that I wanted to ask during your talk, but then the guys...” His voice trailed off.
Bill smiled. “I understand. The other guys kind of made it difficult.”
“I’m really interested in the theory of time and space. I’ve studied up on it best I could. But you seem to have a better understanding of it all.”
“Thanks...sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”
“Ray Scott.”
Bill’s expression gave away some shadow of skepticism.
“I know,” Ray said, smiling. “I have two first names. Blame my parents.” He chuckled, adjusting his black-rimmed glasses.
“Well, Ray. Shoot.”
“What’s that?” Ray’s grin turned serious.
“Ask away, shoot, what’s your thoughts?” Bill said, watching the man and noting uneasiness about Ray, as though he was hiding something and not particularly well. Maybe just nerves, Bill considered, then dismissed the thought.
“Oh, OK.” He paused briefly, then continued, “I have my own theories on the possibility of traveling through time and that’s why I was so interested in hearing you speak.” Ray sat down in one of the chairs.
“Great,” Bill said, taking a chair alongside. “I may have taken the time travel element a bit too far. I meant to just mention it, but I think it got the better of me.”
“So do you really believe it’s possible? Or were you just trying to get some of the older guys here pissed off?”
“I wasn’t trying to piss off anyone. It just happened. Then the argument got to me. And I don’t like people who aren’t willing to open themselves up to the possibilities and...” Bill stood and walked to the desk in the center of the room close to the blackboard. “What I had hoped to do was get a better understanding of the physics of flight from the guys who actually keep the planes up in the air. I’ve had plenty of talks with engineers and scientists, but I’ve never taken my studies down to ground level. That’s why I’m here. It’s just part of my studies.” He paused taking a good look at Ray Scott. “To answer your question, I think time travel is possible. I know, looking at me, a nineteen year old kid...”
“Some say genius, nineteen year old kid,” Ray tossed in.
Bill shook his head and arched his shoulders. “Some may. I don’t.”
“I picked up a bit of information about you: graduated high school at sixteen, moved on to study at Columbia University...” Ray pulled a piece of paper from his pants pocket and read, “Research into the atom with faculty members I. I. Rabi, Enrico Fermi, and Polykarp Kusch. That’s an impressive list for anyone.” Ray folded the paper and returned it to his pocket.
“What’s this all about, Ray?” Bill stared at the man.
“Physics. Time Travel.” Ray took his glasses off. “Maybe even God.”
An odd thought hit Bill, and he immediately questioned whether Ray needed eyeglasses at all or were they some cheap attempt at a disguise? Nothing more than a prop.
“Physics and time travel are right up my alley, Ray. As for the God business, I don’t believe in God. I say I’m agnostic simply because it’s easier on those who do believe. But I’m an atheist.” Bill’s eyebrow arched, “If you’d like the truth?” He waited. When no response came, he continued. “So, if you want to talk about the glorious powers of God? I’m not your man.”
Ray stood, folded the glasses that he had just removed moments ago, and placed them in his shirt pocket. He walked the ten or so feet to the door.
Bill couldn’t help but question the action, as apparently the need to see clearly was not a concern for Ray Scott, any longer.
Ray turned just before stepping through the doorway. “Thank you, Bill. You’ve been a tremendous help.” He reached for the doorknob and pulled the door closed behind him. Ray Scott exited the building that housed the education hall, leaving Bill alone in the cla
ssroom.
RAY SCOTT CROSSED THE hot pavement of the airfield without looking back toward the education hall, or the man he left in the classroom, although he was sure that he was being watched by him. He dodged a stream of utility vehicles, workmen, and airplanes, and headed toward a small, nondescript metal-sheathed building, that could only be described as a shed. Except for a crudely painted identification number, 773–H, on the otherwise faded, chipped, and worn paint that managed to cling to the rusted metal facade of the building, there were no distinguishing marks.
Ray’s pace was deliberate, almost cautious. He circled around the small building once, then headed to the back, where he stopped. Here the line of sight to and from the other buildings, hangers, and people milling about the airfield, was completely blocked. There were no outbuildings behind the shed, securing the privacy of anyone standing behind it. What appeared to be hapless military planning was actually a perfect disguise. No one paid attention to a shed at an airfield. There were many of them scattered about, some large, others no bigger than an outhouse. Ray and the others could come and go with little concern of being spotted. Still, Ray glanced around the corner of the shed, making sure, one more time, that no one was in sight or watching him.
He pulled a half-inch by three inch magnet from the pocket of his pants, and held it up to the right side of the shed, moving it slowly up and down a one foot section near the top portion of the siding. He heard a click and the door popped open. What had moments ago appeared to be a seam in the sheet metal, now revealed a doorway.
He inserted his fingers into the small opening and pulled on the door. The sheet metal slid open, easily moving on well-oiled hinges. Ray Scott stepped inside, allowing the door to close silently on the spring mounted hinge.
He paused for a moment, allowing his eyes to adjust to the interior lighting. A narrow set of stairs led to a floor below. A string of bare bulbs, which had been hung precariously along the smooth cement walls of the hallway, dimly lit the way. Ray stepped down the stairs and immediately felt the cool damp air on his face and arms. He followed the lights along the zigzag of the corridor, going first right, then left, then repeating. Twenty five yards later, planted precisely under one of the large hangers topside, Ray slid open a glass door and entered what he and the other’s had dubbed...The Time Room.
The Third Hour Page 8
