by John Lyman
Leo saw that the cardinal’s gaze had shifted back to him.
“Please give my secretary a call tomorrow, Leopold. I’ll instruct him to set up a lunch meeting for just the two of us. I need to talk with you about some matters of great importance. God bless you, and also Father Morelli.” With that, Lundahl turned and strode down the hall, his black and scarlet cassock flowing out behind him.
Chapter 10
Father Leo exited the building into the din of early morning traffic. Crowds of tourists were streaming into the holy city. Most were heading toward the Sistine Chapel to view Michelangelo’s magnificent ceiling, while others circled Saint Peter’s Square, hoping for a glimpse of the pope. Distraught with the terrible news of Father Morelli’s death, Leo had no appetite for breakfast. What he really needed now was a drink. As a priest, a man of faith, he should feel joy for a soul now in heaven. But he was also a mortal man and, as such, was grieving for a friend he had known most of his adult life. Yes, what he needed now more than anything was a drink.
Leo walked out of Vatican City, numb to the brilliant sunshine and rows of multicolored flowers springing to life in nearby flowerbeds. His ears were deaf to the birds singing from the rooftops. He kept his head down, not wanting to acknowledge a smile from anyone crossing his path. He crossed the Ponte Vittorio Emanuele II over the river Tiber and continued along the Via Giulia, one of the first Renaissance streets to cut through Rome’s hodgepodge of medieval alleys. Turning left onto the Via Del Pellegrino, he walked slowly until he found himself in the Piazza Campo de’ Fiori. He crossed the piazza, finally coming to rest under one of several green umbrella-covered tables located in front of a traditional family-owned trattoria. Father Morelli and Leo had come here often. Together, they would share a bottle of wine and eat pasta in the afternoon, talking and laughing with friends and students about the day’s events.
Leo ordered a glass of wine and sat staring out into the piazza. The tables around him were full of customers bound together in the time-honored Roman tradition of people watching. This activity usually relaxed him when he was tense or stressed, but despite the pleasant surroundings, questions nagged at the periphery of his thoughts.
Why wasn’t John at the residence hall this morning? Were there really “evil forces” at work against them? If this were true, had something happened to John? Who were the archaeological priests who had uncovered the tunnel at the Mamertine Prison? And finally, why did Anthony summon him to Rome? He was pummeled by questions, like the punches he received years ago when he fought in high school boxing matches under the gaze of his father and brothers. Morelli could have found the chapel without his help, but he had wanted Leo to come to Rome for a reason, even if Leo still had no clear idea what the true motive really was. One thing he knew for sure: Father Morelli’s work was not finished, and time had run out for him. Whatever the rationale, Leo knew he was now committed to learning more about the code and the ancient chapel under the Vatican.
A waiter hustled around the table. “Another glass of wine, Father?”
“No, grazie.”
Opening his wallet, Leo saw that it was still empty and remembered that he had again forgotten to get cash.
“Accettate carte di credito?” Leo asked.
“Si, Father, we take cards.”
Leo began thumbing through his wallet when he felt a tap on the shoulder. Squinting up into the sunshine, he spied the unmistakable brown robe of a Franciscan brother.
“I’ve been looking all over for you,” John said, exasperation showing on his face. He threw some Euros on the table and grabbed Leo by the arm, practically lifting him from the chair.
“We have to go. Now, Father.”
Leo pushed back his chair. “What’s the hurry, John?”
“Do you know what the security guys were looking for?”
“Not really. Some stolen church documents, according to Cardinal Lundahl.”
“Wrong,” John said. “They were looking for this.” He shoved a small, blue plastic object in front of Leo’s face. “This is what they are looking for, and we really must go.”
Looking around the piazza, John slid the object under his robe and into his pants pocket. Whatever was going on, Leo instinctively knew that, at this moment, he should follow John and ask questions later.
Racing across the piazza, the two men entered a side street, where Leo saw Father Morelli’s bright red car parked along the curb with the top down. John opened the trunk and threw his brown monk’s robe inside next to the backpack holding the ancient stone brick. Wearing only jeans, a white T-shirt, and sandals, he jumped into the driver’s seat and motioned for Leo to get in. Leo hesitated for a moment, feeling slightly uncomfortable about getting into Morelli’s beloved sports car.
“Let’s go, Father. We have to hurry.”
Leo opened the door and slid into the passenger seat while John fumbled with the gear shift. After finding first gear, he gunned the engine and lurched the car into the maze of side streets.
John pulled an envelope from under his T-shirt and handed it to Leo. “I went to Father Morelli’s room this morning before dawn. He didn’t answer the door, so I went back to my room. Someone had slipped that envelope under my door with your name written on it. Then the phone rang, and a Vatican security officer told me that Father Morelli had died. At first, I didn’t know what to do. Father Morelli told me that, if anything ever happened to him, I was to go to his office and mail his laptop to Lev Wasserman in Jerusalem. I express mailed it to Israel after I phoned you this morning. Here, take this.” John pulled the blue plastic object from the pocket of his jeans. “I’m sure this is what they were searching for.”
“What is it?” Leo asked.
“It’s a computer flash drive. On it is all our research up to now on the hidden chapel. There are also some private records with details of Father Morelli’s financial assets, including his bank pass codes. After I finished mailing the laptop, I went straight to his apartment to meet up with you. When I saw that the cardinal and all the security men were still around, I just kept walking down the hallway past his room. They were frantically searching the building for something, and I put two and two together.”
Leo took the flash drive from John and studied it for a moment. “You think they were looking for this?”
“I’m pretty sure of it. Father Morelli was very suspicious of elements within the church that he felt were working against us. They would love to have the information on that flash drive.”
Leo pulled a lever under his seat and pushed it back as far as it would go to straighten out his legs. “Where did you find this?”
“Father Morelli insisted that I keep it. He was always misplacing it and knew that, if anyone was looking for it, they wouldn’t think to look in my apartment. I had it in my pocket when I walked past the security men and right out the front door. I saw you enter the building and decided to get Father Morelli’s car and wait for you in front of your hotel. When you didn’t return, I started looking for you in all the cafés close to the Vatican. I kind of figured you needed a drink at that point. That’s when I remembered Father Morelli said you and he always went to that café back there when you were in Rome. It was one of his favorite places.”
The BMW sped under the Farnese archway designed by Michelangelo on the Via Giulia. Leo noticed they were heading back toward the Vatican. “Where are we going?”
“We’re on our way back to your hotel. You need to change clothes, pack your stuff, and check out. Don’t forget your passport in the hotel safe. You need to ditch that Roman collar too, right now.”
“What in the world are you talking about, John? Are you losing it? Maybe we should stop the car right now. I think I need to walk for a while and clear my head.”
“You might want to read that letter from Father Morelli before you do.”
Leo studied the expression on John’s face. He knew that this young man had been extremely loyal and devoted to Father Morelli and that,
at this moment, he was totally panicked by something. Leo removed the letter from the envelope and began to read.
To Leopold Amodeo, my dear brother in Christ,
I am writing to you tonight in the hope you will join with a special group of friends in Israel on a holy mission of critical importance. I have just spoken with Lev Wasserman about our discovery under the Basilica today. He and his team have discovered more information about the chapel in a completely different section of the Bible from the one we had been looking in. The chapel we discovered is very special. Apparently, it was built to receive something. The code specifies only that, whatever this object is, it must be delivered by you to the chapel. You must work with Professor Wasserman and his team. They will guide you in your search. Your name was discovered encoded in the Bible in conjunction with the chapel and as an instrument in a battle between good and evil. You are part of God’s plan to save humanity from Satan himself.
At this time, we have no idea exactly what we are looking for or its connection with the ancient chapel under the Vatican. All we know at this point is that the object is located in the Holy Land, and you are tasked by God to find it. You are mentioned by name as a leader in the quest. If you truly believe that the code is a message from God, you must devote yourself entirely to this search. I believe that you have seen for yourself the power of the code to reveal things that have been hidden for millennia. It led us to the hidden chapel and will continue to guide you.
This is a holy quest for the truth and for the salvation of all our brothers and sisters around the world, nothing less. I believe your name was spelled out in the code because you are incorruptible and possess a strong faith in God. Leo means lion, my friend, and you are now God’s lion. He has a plan for you and you must follow it through to the end.
Sadly, my name does not appear in the code along with yours, so even though I want more than anything else to be a part of this great adventure, I have decided it is best for me to remain here in Rome.
Lev called me this evening and said that, according to the code, the object we now seek is very old. He placed the date of origin around the time Lucifer was cast from heaven by God. This will be the most important archaeological undertaking in Church history. It will also be the greatest holy task ever assigned to man by God himself.
Remember, the code also speaks of evil forces at work against us. Use caution and trust no one except those listed as “chosen” in the code. The “archaeological priests” who uncovered the tunnel under the Mamertine Prison were not from the Vatican. If they were priests, they are part of a rogue element in the Church and are the evil ones I spoke of who have infiltrated our faith and know our every move.
From this time forward, your life is in danger, my brother. I have been coaching John for this very moment. He and Lev will help you, but let God be your guide. Although its importance has not yet been revealed, the ancient stone brick we found in the chapel must remain with you and John at all times. If you have received this letter from John, it is because I am unable to give you this message in person. You must leave for Israel at once. Godspeed, my dear friend, and may God keep you and protect you always.
Yours in Christ,
Anthony Morelli, S.J.
Father Leo was shaken to his core. His question about the real reason Father Morelli had summoned him to Rome had been answered. Speeding through the streets, the slipstream blew the tears from the corners of his eyes as he and John looked at one another with expressions usually reserved for soldiers preparing for combat.
Leo pulled his cell phone from his pocket and began to dial.
“Who are you calling, Father?”
“My travel agent in Rome. I need to buy two airline tickets to Israel.”
“Better to buy them at the airport with cash. We don’t want to leave a credit card trail for anyone to follow.”
“You’re pretty good at this, John. How do you know all this?”
“Father Morelli and I had been having discussions about this scenario. The more we learned, the more paranoid we were becoming. We even ordered a book on the Internet about how to disappear without a trace. We learned a lot from that book about how easy it is for people to be followed using their credit cards and cell phones.”
“I have to use my credit card to get cash, but I’m afraid I don’t have much. I think my total worth is less than five thousand dollars.”
John smiled. “I don’t think money will be a problem. Father Morelli set up a special numbered account in Switzerland. The account number is on the flash drive. He wanted me to keep all of his important papers for him, and his will left everything to you, including this car.”
“He left me his car?” Leo felt a lump in his throat. He still had trouble bringing himself to the realization that his friend was gone forever.
“Did he ever mention being ill, John?”
“No, at least not to me. I thought he was in perfect health, but he had grown more distant recently and kept double checking everything to make sure all his bases were covered. His work with the code was extremely important to him, almost to the point of an obsession. I think that’s why he called you to Rome. He wanted to make certain that someone he could trust would continue his research. It was kind of like having life insurance, with his work as the beneficiary.”
“Is there enough money in the account for plane tickets?”
“Is ten million enough?”
Leo took a deep breath. “Did you just say ten million dollars?”
“Actually, it’s ten million Euros, Father. As far as I know, Lev Wasserman and I were the only ones he revealed his true wealth to. Father Morelli had money in various Swiss banks and offshore accounts that he used when he wanted to donate to worthy causes he believed in.”
Leo was stunned by the figure. “I guess this qualifies as a worthy cause. I only wish I was better prepared for what I need to do.”
“We’re coming up to your hotel, Father. Just grab your passport and your clothes, and let’s get away from here as soon as possible.”
The car screeched to a halt in front of the hotel. Leo took the steps two at a time before he burst through the doors and entered the lobby. He looked around and spied Arnolfo exiting the old cage-like elevator.
“Arnolfo. Buon giorno.” Leo tried to slow his breathing. “Would you mind getting my passport from the safe while I go upstairs and pack? I have an important meeting out of town and I’m running late for my train.”
“Yes, Father. I have it out on the desk. A man from the Vatican just called to say he was sending a security officer over to deliver it to you.”
Leo froze. Forget the clothes. He had to think.
“Oh, yes, I forgot. When the officer gets here, please tell him that I picked it up myself. Tell him I’m already on my way to Assisi.”
“Assisi is molto bello this time of year, Father. My sister—”
“I’m sorry, my friend, but I’m afraid I’ll miss my train if I don’t hurry. The passport, Arnolfo. Can I have it please?”
“Si, Father.”
Arnolfo walked over to the desk and picked up two passports before handing one to Leo.
“Why do you have two passports, Arnolfo?”
“The one in your hand is yours, Father. The other is the one I was going to give to the security man. An innocent mistake, yes? Do you think I would give your passport to anyone else but you?”
Once again, Arnolfo had proven that he was much more than just a simple inn keeper. “Thank you, Arnolfo. You are a good friend.”
“Father, what about your belongings?”
“Keep them for me. I’ll call you.”
Leo flew from the hotel and jumped into the waiting car. “Arnolfo just told me someone is on the way over here to get my passport.”
Without a word, John put the car into gear and smoked the tires as he sped away on the Via Germanico toward Fiumicino Airport, leaving a very worried-looking Arnolfo standing in the hotel entrance.
Chapter 11
The breathless priest hurried down the worn brick staircase at the back of the Vatican library. Turning a corner, he passed between tall canyons of books before reaching a hidden alcove that contained a small table with an old-style dial telephone. He looked and listened for signs of anyone nearby. He was alone—giddy with excitement. His master would be pleased.
After an additional quick look around, he dialed a number. It rang only twice before the familiar deep voice answered. “Speak, priest.”
“Morelli is dead, sir.”
“Are you sure?”
“I saw them carry the body out with my own eyes.”
“What about his papers and the computer? Did he leave anything behind?”
“Nothing, sir. We checked his room this morning ... it was practically empty.”
The voice breathed in deeply. “What about his young assistant? Do you think he told him anything?”
“Uh, we can’t seem to locate him.”
The voice rose almost to a scream. “You what? Find him! And find that other priest. They know something; I’m certain of it.”
The priest felt the sweat begin to flow from the pores on his face and run down his neck. His Roman collar was stained with it. What else could he have done? His master was angry. He was angry at him.
“Please don’t worry, sir. I have our people looking for them. They can’t get far without us knowing about it, that I can promise you.”
The voice descended to a whisper that sounded progressively more menacing. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, priest. You must not allow them to find it. This task is too important to let incompetence keep us from obtaining that which belongs to him.”
The line went dead. The priest stared at the phone for a few seconds before hanging up. He began to stand up but was dizzy with fear. He doubts me. Have I not proved my devotion time and time again? Have I not sacrificed everything, even my immortal soul?
Soon his master would know how devoted he was. He would do whatever it took to make him happy again. He reached once again for the phone and dialed a number.
