The Secret Chapel (god's lions)

by John Lyman

  Moshe gunned the minivan’s engine and lurched away from the curb into the rush of late-afternoon Roman traffic at the height of tourist season. “Where to now, Father?”

  “The Hotel Amalfi. It’s where I always stay and it’s right across the street from the Vatican. The owner is a friend of mine and he’s expecting us.”

  Moshe used the van’s horn as he wound his way through traffic. “Do you think that’s wise, Father? I mean, if this is a place where you are known to stay, the phone might be tapped. They could even be watching it.”

  “I e-mailed the owner. Besides, they probably don’t think I would be bold enough to come back to my regular hotel. It’s probably the safest place in Rome for us to be right now.”

  The van weaved its way down the Via Crescenzio past the Castel Sant’Angelo, the same enormous castle where they had climbed out of the catacombs with Morelli into a basement storeroom. Leo glanced up at the summit of the massive round building and fixed his gaze on the colossal bronze statue of Michael the Archangel with unfolded wings, sheathing his sword with his right hand. Created by the eighteenth-century Flemish sculptor, Peter Anton von Verschaffelt, the statue seemed to speak to Leo, telling him everything would be alright. The priest said a silent prayer as they passed below, praying to the powerful angel to protect them one more time.

  They rounded a corner and came to a stop several doors down from the hotel. The men checked the area in an effort to spot anyone looking at them with more than a casual interest. The street was especially quiet for this time of day, but anyone could be the one who might be watching to see if they showed up: the single man in a suit casually strolling by, the old lady with a shopping bag, the young girl with a dog. Security people knew all the tricks.

  Moshe opened the driver’s door and stepped out into the street. Alon placed his hand on the gun in his waistband as they sat in the van and waited for something to happen. The young girl with the dog crossed the street while the old lady with the shopping bag disappeared around the corner. The man in the suit slowed his walk as he passed by the van and said hello, smiling to no one in particular before continuing on his way.

  It was time to go. The men grabbed their backpacks and exited the van. They stood together on the deserted sidewalk, and after another quick look around, they headed straight toward the hotel and bounded up the steps and through the welcoming Victorian doors.

  Arnolfo practically leapt from behind the desk and grabbed Father Leo in a warm bear hug. “Thank God you made it safely, Father. I’ve been sick with worry since I got your e-mail. I’ve been keeping a close watch around the hotel for suspicious persons like you asked me. Did you see the girl with the dog?”

  “I knew it,” John said. “She’s the one I figured they would use. It was so obvious.”

  “She’s my daughter,” Arnolfo said, trying to keep from laughing and embarrassing John any further. He looked at Leo. “Didn’t you recognize her, Father?”

  “It’s been years since I saw her last, Arnolfo. She’s much older now.”

  “I know, Santa Maria, tell me about it. She’s been watching the street for you. Please, come with me into the kitchen in back so we can have some private talk.”

  “Good idea, sir,” Alon said, glancing back at the front doors.

  They were just crossing the lobby heading for the back of the hotel, when the sound of screeching brakes on the street outside literally made the men jump. Alon drew his weapon and stood before the group while Arnolfo grabbed a baseball bat from behind the reception desk and stood beside Leo.

  One of the front doors swung open and Ariella stuck her head in. “Hi, guys.”

  Alon lowered his gun as the others let loose a collective hiss of the air they had been holding in their lungs for too long.

  “Breathe, everyone. It’s just me.”

  John rushed around Alon and grabbed her in his arms. “What are you doing here? How did you…?”

  “The communications people on the yacht have a GPS fix on you at all times. I just asked them where you were, and bingo, here I am.”

  “A GPS fix? I don’t have a-”

  “The sensors are embedded in your clothing.”

  “Nice. Remind me to never lie to you about where I’m going.”

  “Just remember never to lie to me.” Ariella laughed and looked around the room. “Are you guys really getting ready to play baseball?”

  Arnolfo adopted a sheepish grin and put the baseball bat back behind the counter.

  Leo and Moshe exchanged glances. They felt uncomfortable with the sudden turn of events, but both knew Ariella had a right to be there. She was, after all, one of the chosen and had braved the terrors in the desert, proving herself to be a strong and willing equal to any of the men.

  “We need to get going,” Moshe said.

  Arnolfo led the way down the narrow back hallway to a small family-sized kitchen. The hotel lacked a restaurant and provided only drinks or late-night sandwiches for the guests. Arnolfo poured some wine while the group gathered around the heavy wooden kitchen table and began discussing their plans for entering the catacombs below the Vatican.

  Leo looked around the table. “Does anyone have any idea where we can enter the area where the chapel’s located? We can’t just walk through the Vatican, and I don’t want to go all the way back to the entrance under Mamertine Prison in the Forum.”

  John had one arm draped around Ariella’s chair. “How about that tunnel we used the last time? The one under the Castel Sant’Angelo. We could go back down through that manhole the same way we came out.”

  Leo thought for a moment. They had almost been discovered by security men when they climbed up into the castle’s basement storeroom with Morelli. He weighed their options, wondering if there was a way in without being seen or stopped by security.

  “How about my basement?” Arnolfo asked. His face was a mask of innocence and simplicity.

  Leo shot him a glance. “Your basement? Do you mean that wine cellar down below?”

  “Yes, Father, that’s it.”

  “Thank you, Arnolfo, but the area we need to get into is much deeper than that.”

  “There is a tunnel below, Father. My grandfather covered it up because he was afraid the children would find it and get lost down in the catacombs. Also, the smell is not so good.”

  The others sat up and pulled away from the kitchen table as if it had suddenly become electrified. Leo stood and began pacing, staring at the floor and running his fingers over his chin. “Let’s go look at it.”

  Arnolfo led the way through a plain wooden door in the kitchen down a tight, winding stairway. He pointed to the narrow steps beneath their feet. “Careful, Father. These steps were carved two thousand years ago by the Romans. I think they had smaller feet than us.”

  They continued down until they were standing in a chamber hollowed out of solid rock and filled to the curved ceiling with hundreds of bottles of wine.

  “I remember you telling me about this wine cellar, Arnolfo,” Leo said. “I had no idea.”

  “Some of this wine has been here since before we were born, Father.”

  “Where’s the entrance to the tunnel you told us about?” John asked.

  Arnolfo looked down at the floor. “You’re standing on it.”

  The group studied the two-inch thick stone blocks that covered the floor as Arnolfo grabbed a shovel from a dusty corner. Placing the edge of the shovel blade between two large rectangular stones, he pried the edge a few inches high while Alon and Moshe lifted it up and shoved it aside. After lifting several more stones, they revealed the hard-packed dirt beneath. Arnolfo began digging, and within minutes, he had struck the wooden cover his grandfather had placed there over fifty years earlier. He gingerly pried the rotting wood up, and immediately, the room filled with the dank smell of the ancient tunnels beneath.

  John turned his nose up at the smell. “I love the smell of catacombs in the morning.”

  “It’s late af
ternoon,” Arnolfo said, not getting the joke.

  Leo looked around at the others before glancing at Arnolfo and pulling Moshe aside. “I think it would be better if you stayed here with Arnolfo and guarded this entrance.”

  “What?” Moshe looked offended. “Lev gave me strict orders to stay with you.”

  “We have Alon, and besides, I’m not entirely helpless. I don’t want to leave Arnolfo and his family here without someone like you to watch over them. If the Vatican security men come to the hotel, you’re the only one who can keep this entrance safe if we need to make a hasty retreat.”

  “I see what you mean, Father. No one will follow you down that hole.”

  Everyone gathered around and peered down into the dank opening. Air began to rush in and out from the tunnel below, as if they had uncovered the hidden lair of a sleeping prehistoric animal that was breathing deeply in its nest.

  Arnolfo pulled a wooden ladder away from the wall and lowered it through the narrow entrance while Alon pulled a headlamp from his backpack and was the first to descend to the tunnel floor below. One by one, the others disappeared through the hole until only Arnolfo and Moshe remained in the wine cellar above. Arnolfo called out to Leo as he descended the ladder. “Do you want me to come with you, Father?”

  Leo poked his head back up through the opening. “No, my friend. We need you to stay here with Moshe and help keep a watch over this entrance and the street outside the hotel.”

  Moshe held up his walkie-talkie. “I’ll lock the door at the top of the stairs and call you if there’s any trouble.”

  Leo reached the floor of the tunnel and switched on his light. The illuminated group was looking around and trying to decide which way to go when, without warning from above, the figure of a man descended the ladder behind them. It was Lev.

  Ariella ran to him and stretched her arms around his neck. “Father! What are you doing here? I thought you were going to stay with the boat.”

  “I could say the same thing about you. I had an overpowering need to be here with the rest of you. We all started out together in the desert, and we should all be together for this.”

  A feeling that something wasn’t quite right had been nagging at Leo all day, and now, with Lev’s arrival, he realized what had been bothering him. “I don’t know what we were thinking. All of us who descended into the cavern under the desert and retrieved the book should be here now. We’re all a critical part of the plan.”

  Lev switched on his headlamp. “I know. We almost made a terrible mistake. I started thinking about the section of the code that said we would give it to God. That could only mean that the same chosen ones who discovered the Devil’s Bible in the desert are supposed to deliver it to the chapel under the Vatican. Once more, God is whispering to us and saying that we must follow his plan. It fills me with terror to think of what else we might have missed.”

  Lev’s last sentence got everyone’s attention. They all made a mental checklist of anything they might have forgotten. Alon was the first to break the spell of self-doubt that had the team frozen in place. “Well, we’re all here now, so let’s go.”

  Everyone grabbed their backpacks and let the beams from their lights guide them through the tunnel into the maze of the catacombs.

  Alon looked back over his shoulder from his place in the lead. “Are we headed in the right direction, Father?”

  “We’ll soon find out.” Leo could surmise from dead reckoning that the tunnel they were in now ran in the general direction of Vatican City, but they were in uncharted territory, and since only he and John had been to the chapel before, he wanted John’s opinion.

  “What do you think, John?”

  “This tunnel is probably very close to the one we used before, Father. We passed a lot of intersecting tunnels before we ended up in the area beneath the Basilica where we discovered the ancient chapel. This has to be one of them.”

  The shaft of light from Arnolfo’s wine cellar receded in the distance as they pressed on to what would most probably be another confrontation with a force they still knew very little about. No one had to say it, but they all knew in their hearts and minds that their final battle with evil lay ahead in the darkness beyond.

  Chapter 42

  Alon continued leading from the front. His head was on a swivel, peering ahead and then behind as they made their way toward the jumble of chambers and tunnels. The memory of the last time they had been in a tunnel was still fresh in his mind. “Did you bring your holy water, Father?”

  “I’ve got plenty. How’s everyone doing?”

  “We’re fine. This can’t be any worse than the last time,” Ariella said, instantly regretting her words. Already, the dank smell of the catacombs, along with the lack of fresh air, was beginning to make them all a little lightheaded. Everyone dreaded another encounter with the demons, and for some reason, the fear they felt here was even stronger than that they had experienced in the desert.

  Arriving at the end of the tunnel where it dead-ended into a larger tunnel, John pointed excitedly to the wall straight ahead. “Look, Father.”

  Morelli’s yellow chalk mark was on the wall of the intersecting tunnel in front of them, pointing to the right. They turned in the direction of the arrow, picking up the pace with the anticipation of getting to their destination as quickly as possible.

  The group shined their lights down every tunnel they crossed in an effort to mark their progress. They were in a gigantic ancient maze, and even though a tunnel might look familiar, they could easily get turned around and start heading in the opposite direction.

  Leo was behind Alon when they rounded a corner and entered a large space where the ceiling rose almost twenty feet. Leo stopped for a moment to get his bearings and called out to the others. “I think we’re under the Basilica. The tunnel to the chapel is a little farther ahead.”

  Alon was preparing to call Moshe on his radio when a bright light suddenly filled the space.

  “Vatican security! Halt!”

  The five shielded their eyes from the light as several uniformed and plain clothes Vatican security officers flooded out of side tunnels and surrounded them.

  A short middle-aged priest with heavy eyebrows stepped forward accompanied by a young dark-haired officer with cold gray eyes. “May I ask what you are all doing down here? This area is off-limits-and you are all trespassing.”

  Leo immediately recognized Emilio. He thought hard, dozens of explanations running through his mind. Why hadn’t he prepared for something like this? He uttered the first words that came to mind. “We were touring the catacombs and got turned around. These are some of my friends, Emilio.”

  The diminutive priest stared at Leo with contempt. “What a coincidence that you got lost right under the Basilica, Father. I think we both know why you’re down here. Unfortunately this is now a matter for the police. You are under arrest. Please come with us.”

  Leo shot Alon a glance and faced Emilio. “Since when do priests arrest people?”

  “I’m not arresting you, Father; they are.” He pointed to the group of stone-faced security men surrounding them.

  Alon had been given strict orders from Lev to protect Leo and the book at all costs. He moved next to Leo and felt for the nine-millimeter pistol under his shirt. Lev looked him straight in the eye and the unsaid message was immediately understood. Alon slowly moved his hand away from the hidden gun.

  Several of the security men began removing handcuffs from their belts while advancing toward Leo and the others. Alon counted six of them, two holding automatic weapons pointed right at them. John and Ariella stepped back as Alon shielded Leo and gave Emilio a look that would wither most men. Sensing danger, Emilio put his hand up in front of the advancing security men. “I don’t think those handcuffs will be necessary. I hope you will all have the good sense to behave yourselves. Please follow us.”

  Alon was seething at his inability to do anything. Even though he was now a Christian, his Jewish heritage
was screaming out to him. Jews had gone with uniformed men without a fight in the past, and he was not about to let history repeat itself. He glared at Emilio. “Where are you taking us? We haven’t done anything wrong.”

  Emilio returned the stare before catching himself and forcing a tight smile in an attempt to project a more fatherly figure. “May I remind you, sir, that you are trespassing on Vatican territory and that we have the right and duty to take you all to our police station. Hopefully, we can straighten this entire situation out in more pleasant surroundings.”

  The Bible Code Team looked at one another with resignation for the moment. Their thoughts were melded together with the knowledge that they would have to sidestep this situation quickly. The book had to reach the chapel, and without knowing exactly why, they knew it had to be delivered soon.

  Leo tried to think. What if they searched the backpack? The security men would be sure to search them when they reached the police station.

  Alon was livid. Lev’s words ran over and over again in his mind. Guard the book with your life! No matter what happened, he would never let these men get their hands on the book. Leo could tell by looking at Alon what was going through his mind. He knew he was powerless to stop him if one of the security men tried to grab the backpack holding the book.

  Emilio led the way, heading in the opposite direction away from the Vatican and the hidden chapel. The tunnel widened as they made a sharp right into a small chamber and stopped. Two of the security men in black suits looked at each other nervously and motioned to two other security officers with automatic weapons standing behind Leo and the others.