by Rick Jones
“Hello. I know someone’s there? I can hear you breathing.”
I didn’t kill him, Shari. I gave him a chance to live so he could raise his children—
“I’m about to hang up. Is someone there?”
I didn’t kill him.
Then there was a click, the tie that bound them between so many miles severed.
I didn’t kill him.
Looking at his free hand with his palm facing him, he saw that it was spotted with blood.
I’m not what you think, Shari. I’m not a savage.
But if Kimball Hayden had seen his face, he would have thought otherwise.
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
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The Chamber of the Vatican Knights
Vatican City
Three Days Later
When the pontiff tried to assure Kimball that he was not trying to take the place of Bonasero Vessucci, whom Kimball saw as a father and not a man in priest’s clothing, he didn’t want to hear about it, at least not when it was so close to the ceremonial services regarding one of their own. It wasn’t because he disliked the pontiff. In fact, he saw John Paul III as a person who was deeply involved with his God and lived by the tenets of divine goodness, and acted as an example to others with pure kindness. After the passing of Bonasero Vessucci, however, Kimball distanced himself from John Paul III because the pain was still too great, and the pope was a constant reminder of Bonasero’s passing.
“After the ceremony,” the pope asked him during the pre-ceremony, “will you at least hear me out in council?”
Kimball said he would.
Taking a seat before the Circle of the Vatican Knights to say good-bye to Leviticus, Kimball was reminded of all the times he had said good-bye to those who had fallen under his command before him, all good people who devoted their lives to serve as a soldier of God to help those who couldn’t help themselves. They were dark memories for sure, but they were also reminders to him that he had lived for them, and they for him. Here was family as he sat amongst his old teammates, brothers whom he had fought side by side with, with everyone sitting together inside this arena whose floor was a masterpiece of mosaic tile that had been majestically cobbled together to form the emblem of the Vatican Knights. Centered with- in the coat of arms was a Silver Cross Pattée set against a blue background, with the colors significant. Silver represented peace and sincerity, and blue signified truth and loyalty. Standing alongside the coat of arms were two heraldic lions raised on their hind legs with their forepaws against the shield, stabilizing it. The lions were a symbolic representation of bravery, strength, ferocity and valor. And on top of this symbol lay the casket of Leviticus.
As the ceremony went on and the pontiff spoke first in Italian, then in Latin, and then in English, Kimball listened to the words and remembered Leviticus by recalling all the specifics that made the man and not the soldier. He remembered the quirky way the man laughed, something that was more of a snorting manner than a guffaw. And the way he told jokes, which were often dry but nevertheless humorous. He continued to think about Leviticus with an adoring half smile as his eyes took on a detached look as he stared at nothing in particular, remembering. But as the ceremony pressed on, Kimball could feel the eyes of Cardinal Alnasseri gravitate towards him in a studious manner, as if the man was plotting against him. At least that’s how Kimball felt, having seen that look in a man’s eyes before.
When the sermon was finalized and the pontiff gave a final blessing, then as the Vatican Knights milled about the chamber when the ceremony was over, Kimball didn’t hang around. Instead, he left the chamber after giving the emblem on the coffin a soft kiss and headed for the grotto below.
All the while, Kimball Hayden knew that he had been under the keen and watchful eye of Cardinal Alnasseri, though the cardinal might not have been aware of this.
* * *
Cardinal Alnasseri felt like filth in his second skin. He had met with his constituency upon his arrival from Damascus, with some commenting about his loss of weight and how he looked different, how he looked good, though his meetings were sometimes brief they occasionally brought a suspicious eye from some. No in-depth inquiries had been made about the differences, since traumas were believed to be the effects behind the changes to the man who had nearly lost his life. Since he was a preferiti, his presence was considered mandatory. And during the service he couldn’t help himself as he took liberal glimpses of the bearded man who had killed his brother. Then when the ceremony was over, as this man kissed the emblem of the Vatican Knights that sat upon the coffin, he watched Kimball Hayden disappear from view.
I swear by the blood of my brother, thought Abdullah Kattan, I will hang your head on a pike in the center of St. Peter’s Square for all to see.
Inside the Vatican, the man who was believed to be Cardinal Alnasseri by most, had become the first wild cell of a slow-moving cancer within the church.
CHAPTER SIXTY
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The Grotto Beneath the Church
The tunnel that led to Bonasero Vessucci’s tomb appeared like the walls of a cave, rough and uneven, with torches that now burned with natural gas. The flames leapt and danced, creating odd shadows around Kimball as he moved down the long corridor, bowing at the waist due to the low-lying ceiling. Once he reached Bonasero’s tomb, which he considered to be a marvel of creation that was covered with ornamental bas-relief carvings of winged angels and cherubs, and had a chiseled inscription in Latin at the tomb’s base that summed up the life of the pontiff as a true servant of God, Kimball Hayden felt at ease. Pressing his forehead against the marble of Bonasero’s tomb, which was cool to the touch, Kimball spoke softly and gently “How are you, my old friend? I miss you.”
Then Kimball took a seat on one of the three marble steps that led down into the chamber, and held a conversation with the man whom he considered to be more of a father to him than his biological one.
“I failed you, didn’t I?” he asked the tomb as if it was something alive. “I failed you because I failed myself.”
Then a hand alit on Kimball’s shoulder, the touch filled with an all-consuming warmth and indescribable love. “You failed no one,” said the voice.
In Kimball’s mind he wanted the voice to belong to Bonasero, and because of this it did.
“I walked away from the Light because every time I took a step forward,” Kimball said, “I always did something that I shouldn’t have and ended up taking two steps back. The Light is well beyond my reach.”
“The Light is not a far-off place, Kimball. The Light is, and has always been, inside you. There is a balance between sinner and saint. The Vatican Knights are at one end of the spectrum, and evil sits at the other. You were that balance, Kimball, who often stepped into the Gray and skirted the Dark, in order to serve the Light.
Now that the balance is gone, evil may once again prevail without your presence.”
Feeling the warm hand on his shoulder, Kimball said, “I feel so lost ...So alone.”
“Kimball, what you feel is the hopelessness of a man who believes himself to have little value in the world. You feel yourself to be a man without a purpose or direction because you are lost. What you need, Kimball, is to look deep within yourself and truly believe that the goal of the Light you seek is there waiting. And to do this you must bury the Darkness that resides there as well. In the end the choice is yours to make. And to choose, Kimball, is to be human.”
Kimball closed his eyes.
“On top of the tomb, Kimball, you’ll find what you’re looking for. See it for what it is and hopefully you’ll choose well.” When the hand left his shoulder, so did the feeling of incredible warmth and love.
“Wait a minute,” Kimball said, turning around.
But the long hallway was empty.
“Hello.”
His voice echoed down its length.
Then in a whisper: “That’s impossible.” What was impossibl
e was that the hallway was too long for anyone to disappear from the moment the hand lifted from his shoulder, to the moment Kimball turned his head, perhaps a second in time.
Am I going mad? He wondered.
When Kimball stood and went to Bonasero’s tomb, he saw the gift that the voice of Hope offered. On top of the structure was a white band, one that was to be fitted inside the collar of a cleric’s shirt ...or the shirt of a Vatican Knight.
He grabbed the band and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger to see if it was real.
It was.
Then he turned to look down the grotto’s tunnel that appeared like a tube with rough walls of stone. To the sides were other burial sites, other tombs. But not a single living soul.
Kimball held up the band. “Hello? ...Is this what you were talking about?”
No answer other than the resounding and hollow echo of his own voice.
“Hello?”
Nothing.
Kimball Hayden was all alone.
EPILOGUE
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The Vatican
After his visit to Bonasero’s tomb, Kimball went to the spartan area that used to be his chamber. Above the door etched in the stone was the emblem of the Vatican Knights, something he always grazed with the tips of his fingers before entering. When he stepped inside he saw the cot and the nightstand on the left side of the room, an area that had been well lived in. On the right was the kneeling rail; the votive rack; and a podium that held a Bible, which had yet to be opened. In the center of the room and high up on the wall was the stained-glass window of the Virgin Mother. Her arms were held out in invitation. Her smile always warm. And as Kimball stood there with the band in his hand, the light from the traversing sun started to filter in through the glass like a Biblical beam, which landed a foot from Kimball’s feet.
Kimball smiled as he looked at the Virgin Mother. “Thank you for the invite,” he said. Then he let his fingers dance a few inches from the light, though he did not touch it. “I have a lot to make up for before I earn this,” he said, pulling away his fingers. And then the light disappeared as scudding clouds apparently blocked the rays of the sun.
When Kimball went to the mirror above the sink and met his reflection, he could understand how others could see the wildness in him. Grabbing a pair of shears from the sink, he began to cut away the beard, and then he finalized the fresh-scrubbed look by shaving it completely off until his strong jaw line showed once more.
Taking the band of the collar that he had lifted from Bonasero’s tomb, he fitted it inside the collar of his shirt and gave it a firm inspection.
Somehow it felt good.
It felt right.
Kimball smiled.
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THE END
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
CHAPTER FIFTY
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
CHAPTER SIXTY
EPILOGUE
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
CHAPTER FIFTY
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
CHAPTER SIXTY
EPILOGUE
