Disclaimer: I and my writing accociates own the characters, but not the world. That belongs to the owners of Angel and Highlander.
"When in Rome…"
Teaser
Jim Corrigan longed for a cigarette.
He had been on the transatlantic flight from San Francisco for more than 9 hours now, and for all this time he had not been able to smoke. Of course, he had bought nicotine gum, but it just wasn't the same. It was the feel of the cigarette between his lips and the feel of smoke in the lungs that was the greatest part of the urge.
In the seat next to him, Herbert Schmidt was all smiles. He was too big of a man to actually gloat over Jim's nicotine hunger, but he was glad that for once, Jim had not been surrounded by a cloud of smoke. Besides, Herbert felt exited about going to Europe. He hadn't been home to Germany for years, and Italy was close enough.
Across the aisle, Mercedes Perez and Kat Horton, the Interpol agent, was busy looking through a tourist book with pictures of Rome. Mercedes pointed excitedly to a picture of Piazza del Poppolo and Andrew Picardt smiled to himself in the window seat. He had been further away than Rome, actually all the way to Hong Kong on one of his first cases for the FBI, so going to Italy was not as big a deal to him as to most of the team. Andrew wasn't sure about Jim – he claimed he had been in Rome before, during the time of Julius Ceasar, but Andrew wasn't sure if he believed him.
The speaker came on, and a man's voice filled the cabin.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we are now making our final approach to Rome. We ask you to but your chairs up, your tables away, and stow all luggage under your seat or in the overhead compartments. We want to thank you for flying American Pride, and hope to see you with us soon again."
"Not unless you get a smoking section", Jim mumbled, and Herbert shook his head.
"Jim, you're not going to die from a couple of hours without smokes. Pull yourself together."
"I'm not exactly going to die from smoking, either. It just annoys me. You used to be able to smoke on these long flights."
"Well, this is my first flight", Mercedes said from the other side, "and I'm glad there isn't a lot of smoke."
Jim grumbled resigned, and put his seat back up.
The plane touched down on the tarmac, and as the group exited the plane, they all wiped the sweat from their foreheads.
"This is like Mexico City!", Mercedes said, and blew air into her face by waving her hand in front of her face.
"This is nothing", Kat said, "You should see Bolivia in july!"
As they grabbed a cab and headed for the hotel Mercedes had booked from home, Jim felt slightly uncomfortable in his cottencoat. Finally, taking extra care to maintain his "no-space" around his sword, he took it off and put it across his suitcase. He had been keeping his own sword in there during the flight, while Kat had used her Interpol credentials to put the Dark Sword aboard the plane in the luggage compartment.
The Dark Sword, as they had nicknamed it, they had taken from an immortal in the city of Moonlight Cove during their last case. Jim had faced the immortal and slew him in a duel, but he was only a bodyguard for Tom Shaddeck, a inventor and business tycoon that had a small hobby of being a techno mage. The Tempus team had finally defeated him, but not before finding out that he, too – was only a puppet. On his computer, an image had appeared when they tried to access his files. The image of a Tarot card – "the Hanged Man".
It was obvious that this was only the first piece of a very large puzzle, but they had still been left with one piece of very tangible trouble – the Dark Sword, which was full of a powerful demonic energy.
Through the research and the connections they had been able to find out, the sword needed to be placed on holy ground. And what could be more holy than the Vatican? So the team had headed off to place the Dark Sword on the most holy of holy places. Jim had intended to place it on the rock beneath the Peter's Church – the center of Catholic faith.
As they checked into the hotel, Jim looked around at his team, and thought that it would be an easy little vacation. After getting a good night's sleep, they would head to the Vatican and put the Sword away – and they, they could relax.
What could go wrong?
Father Christopher Vaughn knocked on the door, and smiled comfortingly to the man opening the door. He was about 50, but looked older from exhaustion.
"I'm so glad you came, Father", the man said in Italian. Father Christopher smiled and nodded. "Yes…I take it she is still alive?"
"Barely, Father. I think she wanted to hang on to hear the last rites."
"I'll get up there right away."
Father Christopher walked up the steps and entered the bedroom. The woman lay in the bed, her eyes closed but her breathing barely making the sheet covering her chest move.
He sat down in the chair next to the bed, and cleared his throat. "In the name of the father, the son and the Holy Spirit, I come to bring you peace."
He started reciting the ritual, not needing his bible, but pulling it from memory. As he was about to finish, he heard the woman in the bed draw a deep breath…and let it out. Nothing followed it.
Father Christopher finished with a last "amen", then he leaned over the bed and placed his hands on the forehead of the dead woman, giving the traditional blessing.
And her hand shot up and grabbed his wrist.
He could not hold back a surprised outburst, as the fingers seemed to burn into his flesh. This was no imagined feeling, as little spirals of smoke seemed to rise from his sleeve.
"YOUR PONTIF BURNS!" the old woman said, looking up at him with eyes that had gone totally bereft of color. They were only pits full of darkness, "HE BURNS WITH US IN HELL! HE DANCES TO THE TONES OF THE VIOLIN OF LUCIFER. HE CRIES WITH THE VOICES OF LEGION!" Her voice was a hoarse growl.
"In the name of the father!", Father Christopher shouted back, "and the Son! And the Holy Spirit! BEGONE!"
"YOU CANNOT SAVE HIM, AND SOON MORE WILL DANCE WITH US!"
"Be gone, demon! The power of Christ compels you!"
The hand that gripped him gave one final squeeze, and then it fell limp. The woman fell back on the bed, her eyes closed and her face returned to the peaceful mask of death.
Father Christopher looked at his arm. The jacket of his sleeve had been burned and scorched, but his skin was not burnt, just a little red from the grip. He put his coat over the arm to cover it, and got to his feet.
He walked out the room without looking back, put a comforting hand on the shoulder of the man outside, and then hurried out the house.
He went home to his apartment, his thoughts confused and muddled. How could that demon touch him? Normally, when he had experience with Demons and vampires, they would cower away from him, not grip him. He had to talk to Cardinal Tauran. But first, he had to sleep. He had never felt this tired in his entire life.
But his sleep was not restful.
Horrible images flashed behind his closed eyelids. Figures in cardinal robes were moving about, in what seemed to be a bedroom…their motions filled with the gliding smoothness dreams always seemed to have…and in their midst, the Holy Father lay on his bed, looking sick and terrified. The Cardinals suddenly seemed to become more and more menacing, their robes which were normally just red, now seemed to have darker crimson stains of blood. They laughed, their faces contorted to almost inhuman features as they seemed to dance around the Pope, lying in his bed. One of the Cardinals took out a knife, and a piece of the holy wafer. He lifted them so the pope could see it and plunged the knife into the bread. Blood ran down his hands from the cut, and he laughed maniacally. …The pope's eyes went wide with fear, he seemed to try to move or speak, but was unable to do so. His eyes seemed to look at Christopher, begging him to help, to do something, anything….but when he tried to take a step forward, he felt he could not move. And the light from the candles in the room seemed to glow brighter, as the dance grew wilder and wilder… so bright…so bright it was almost…
…sunlight. He opened his eyes and blinked in the sharp light of the Italian morning sun. Normally, the sun made him feel cheerful in the morning, but not now. The dream still clung to him. He swung his feet out of bed, and noticed something on the floor by the door. Something that had not been there the night before - a small piece of cardboard.
He picked it up and turned it around, feeling his blood turn to ice in his veins as he did so. It was a tarot card, depicting a burning tower and two people falling from it. A king and a pope. It was "the Tower".
He had to see Cardinal Tauran. Right now. At least he could make him feel better by being assured of the Pope's well being.
Quickly putting on his black suit and collar, he went down the stairs, but was stopped in the door by Mrs. Vinucci, the inhabitant of the downstairs apartment.
"Oh, Padre! Isn't it awful?"
"I'm sorry…what is awful, Signora?"
She sobbed into her handkerchief. "The pontiff. The Pope. He is dead! Last night at 11.30!"
Father Christopher felt the fear creep over him. 11.30 was the exact time of the arm-gripping demon's promise that the pontiff would burn in hell. This had to be told to his superior.
On the street, he hailed a taxi, and spoke only one word:
"Vatican!"
1.
What woke Jim up, was more instinct than the sound. He sat upright in the bed for an instant, and then the scream filled the room. Mercedes' voice. Filled with fear.
In an instant, both Jim and Andrew were out of their beds. Andrew, who slept in a t-shirt and boxer shorts grabbed for the gun he hadn't brought, cursed, and then just raced for the door. Jim, who preferred a real pajamas, was already out the door and two steps in front of him down the corridor to the next room.
Out of the door on the other side of the room Mercedes and Kat was sharing, Herbert emerged. He had gotten a single room, as Murph had stayed behind after the trip was booked. When you overlooked the fact that he was unwilling to travel anywhere where his amour could not go with him, Jim had found it a good idea to let someone man the office while they were all gone. And even though Murph was a strange man, he had been a town sheriff for more than 30 years. He had the skills to get along on his own.
The door to the girl's room was locked from the inside. There were a sound of something falling over, and then another piercing scream from Mercedes.
That was all the motivation the 3 men needed. Herbert pointed to the door, and a lightning bolt blew the door in.
They jumped in, taking a quick overview over the room.
Mercedes was in her bed, still screaming and cradling her arm, from which the hilt of a knife protruded. Her nightgown was splattered with blood. The doors to the balcony were open, and a soft breeze made the curtains move. A dresser between the beds had been knocked over, and Kat's bed was empty.
"They took her! They took her!" Mercedes cried, and pointed to the balcony door.
Andrew and Jim ran to the balcony, while Herbert went to Mercedes' side, trying to calm her down.
On the balcony, Andrew looked down and Jim looked up.
"Nothing here, "Andrew said, and leaned over the railing.
"Then we go up!" Jim ordered, and they swung up to the roof of the building.
On the other side of the hotel, an engine came to life. The 2 men ran across the rooftop, in time to see a set of red brake lights vanish around a corner.
"We're too late!", Jim shouted. Andrew calculated the distance to the ground, but found it impossible to make the jump. He nodded.
"I guess so."
Back in the room, they all heard what Mercedes could tell them.
"They were 5 of them. They were in robes, I think they were red. I didn't hear them come in, so they must be very good at being stealthy. I woke up on my own, and I saw them lift Kat up out of her bed. She was all limp and they jumped out the window. Oh Dios Mio…poor Kat…."
Mercedes sobbed, and Andrew gave her a new Kleenex.
"All right", Jim said, lifting his head from his hands, "we have a problem. And we're going to solve it. But we must not forget the important thing. The people who took Kat obviously knew that she had brought the Dark Sword into the country. That's why they took her, so they obviously want the sword. That means we still need to get rid of that sword, right now. We need to go to the Vatican and put it somewhere where it will not do more damage. Then, we'll search this city for Kat, top to bottom."
"How can you be so cold, Jim?" Herbert asked, "We should search for her now. She could be dead if we wait too long!"
"Yes, I know. But like Andrew said when he read up on this thing, it attracts evil. And the longer it has to attract, the more dangerous it will be. Kat knew the risk when she came along. This has first priority!"
He pointed to the window, where lights were beginning to appear.
"It's morning now. We should get going. I'm sure that there won't be many people around the Vatican in the morning."
Andrew had been by the window, looking out. Now he turned to them.
"Um…Jim…There's actually a lot of people on the street right now…and they are all heading in the general direction of the Vatican."
"What the hell? Is there a holiday or something?"
"Well…if there is, it's a sad one. A lot of them are crying."
Herbert grabbed the remote control, and turned the TV on. It came on CNN, and in the middle of a report. The big red letters at the bottom of the screen were obvious though:
POPE JOHN PAUL II DEAD
"…and we are here at Saint Peter's square, where thousands of people are filling the place. Everybody is praying, lighting candles…it's a beautiful sight. Italian officials expect millions of pilgrims in the next days, until the conclave will convene in a few weeks..."
The team looked at each other.
"We'd better get going if we're to have ANY chance of getting in there before the square is filled up!", Andrew said.
2
After a taxi ride, that had ended prematurely because of the sheer mass of people filling the streets, the Tempus team walked through Saint Peter's Square towards the entrance to the Vatican.
"Can we even get in?", Mercedes asked, "with the Holy Father dead, won't they shut off the Vatican?"
"They'll probably close the sixteen chapel", Andrew said, "to prepare for the conclave. But I think the Vatican city itself should still be accessible."
"And we just need to get inside", Jim said, "then we can sneak down into the corridors under the church."
Herbert shook his head at Jim's overconfidence. How the hell the man expected to get into one of the best guarded places in the world was beyond him.
They walked through the entrance to the Vatican City, into a large courtyard. Jim looked at the map they had been given.
"All right, so it seems like the administrative entrance is to the left…and the museum is straight ahead…."
"I thought you said we just had to get inside…"
"Yeah, yeah, don't rush me…all right, so the chapel is this way…we need to move in that general direction…"
Jim looked up and pointed, but Mercedes looked at the group of oddly dressed men that seemed to head their way.
"Who are those guys?"
"They're Swiss guards. They protect the Vatican", Andrew answered.
"Well, the Swiss guards look like they are heading our way."
The five men approached them and the leader stepped in front of Jim.
"Pardon me, Sir, but we would like for you to come with us."
"Why?" Herbert asked, looking uncomfortable.
"What did we do?" Mercedes asked.
"Cardinal Tauran wishes to talk to you. Now, follow us, please, this way."
Jim, who had for a moment prepared himself to defend himself, relaxed a bit. They were apparently not looking for a fight.
The guards led them through a series of corridors and small courtyards into the deep heart of Vatican City. Everybody, even Jim, had to look amazed at the wonderful architecture, the details and the intricate designs.
"Why are there empty statue niches?" Mercedes asked when they passed though a corridor filled with statues standing in small niches. Several of them were empty, however.
"The Vatican built too many on purpose", Herbert answered. As catholic, he had been their leading expert on the Vatican. Jim had been an Irish catholic once, but he had not much knowledge of the Vatican that didn't come from novels. "They thought there would be more saints as time went by, and prepared to fill in the blanks."
Finally, they came to an office door, and the guard knocked once before entering.
Behind a desk was an older man, dressed in cardinal robes. He gestured to the guards to step out, and they did so, leaving the Tempus team in the room with the Cardinal…and one more person.
Jim's talents were honed, and he noticed the man sitting in the shadows by the door after a few seconds. It was a man dressed in the traditional catholic priest-suit, but Jim didn't have time to examine him closer, as the Cardinal spoke.
"Greetings. I am Cardinal Tauran, and I hope you do not mind me bringing you in here. It is just that…well, we can sense your visit to the Vatican is not exactly an every day occurrence."
"I'm sorry…what?" Andrew asked.
"Here in the Vatican, we have a highly efficient warning system. It tells us amongst other things, when a person with supernatural powers steps onto our soil. And you…" he gestured to them, "you obviously are gifted with supernatural abilities. So speak, what is your errand in the Vatican City?"
The cardinal leaned back in his chair, after hearing Jim and Andrew recount the story of the Dark Sword, Tom Shaddeck and Moonlight Cove. He stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"That's…quite an interesting story, gentlemen."
"It's true, though, your grace", Mercedes said.
"Well, since you are such unusual people…I am inclined to believe you. Can I see this Dark Sword?"
The team looked at each other, seeming to come to a conclusion without words. Then, Herbert pulled the sword out from the bag.
As soon as the blade glinted in the sunlight, the priest by the door reacted. He got to his feet in an instant and shouted "guards!"
The Swiss guard outside the room quickly stepped into the room, but the cardinal raised a hand to calm them.
"It's all right, Father Christopher. I asked to see it myself. Come closer."
Herbert took a step forward, but then, it felt like the sword came to life in his hand, like it squirmed to strike…at Father Christopher.
Herbert gripped his sword hand with his free hand, trying to keep it under control, but not to much success.
"Throw it down!" Andrew shouted and stepped forward as well.
Herbert threw the sword on the floor with a loud crash. The sword still moved, though, creeping or sliding across the floor, giving off what looked like electrical sparks. It continued towards Father Christopher, who took a step back. Finally, it lay still.
"It…most assuredly is unusual. Would you not agree, Father?" the cardinal asked.
"Yes. I'm sure we can handle this, though. We have convents up north with a very powerful holy presence. I'm sure that the sword could be…contained there."
"Wait a minute, buster!", Jim said, and stepped up, putting his hands on the table, knuckles down, "we're not talking about giving this thing OUT to you to move around. We came here to put this thing on your holiest place. And isn't that the Vatican? That rock that's supposed to be downstairs on old Pete's grave?"
"You might understand, Mr. Corrigan, that we are not exactly thrilled at the chance of this unholy artifact being placed on our most holy place", Father Christopher said.
"Why? Are you afraid your precious church is not up to snuff? That it can't take the heat?"
"Jim, maybe you should…" Andrew began, but the Cardinal interrupted.
"Father Christopher, take these people to the guest quarters and make them comfortable. We'll have the sword examined in the mean time. I have an idea that we might try something a little less radical than putting the sword down on Saint Peter's grave."
"Are you thinking of an exorcism, your grace?" Father Christopher asked.
"indeed. But it will take time to prepare for that. Probably a day or so."
"If you think we're just going to leave that sword with you guys…" Jim began.
"Jim, we have to find Kat. It's a high priority!", Herbert said, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"Kat? Is someone lost?" Christopher asked.
"Our friend was kidnapped this morning from our hotel room by some guys in black robes. We think, they were trying to find the sword."
"I see. Your grace, can I have a moment before I take these people down to their rooms?"
"Of course, father."
Christopher led the cardinal to the corner of the room, and whispered: "I had a dream last night. A strange dream of the pope, being surrounded by men in bloody cardinal robes, mutilating the holy wafers. Furthermore, someone put a card under my door last night. A Tarot card, called "the Tower". I am sure you are familiar with it - the one where a king and a pope falls from a crumbling turret. Do you think it could be connected to the story they told?"
"It seems that these people and we have more in common than you would think", the Cardinal said in a low voice, and then straightened up.
"Gentlemen, I will extend you a special courtesy. The Vatican security will make a search for your friend. I can assure you that they will be efficient and able to cover much more ground than your team would be able to. In the mean time, I think you should stay here in the Vatican."
"We're not going to sit around here and do nothing", Andrew said, "We're going out to help find our friend!"
"All right, then. You are free to leave the sword with us."
"No way", Jim said. "if that's the case, we split up. I'll stay here with the sword, and you guys go look for Kat."
He reached for it, but once again, it jerked as he touched it, as if it wanted to get at the two holy men and attack them.
"I…I can't seem to touch it" Jim said.
"Let her", Christopher suddenly spoke up and pointed to Mercedes. She pointed to herself.
"Me?"
"Yes, you."
"But I'm not a super person. I'm just a girl."
"I know. Pick it up."
Mercedes reached for the sword and lifted it off the floor. It seemed to act quietly as long as she held it.
"All right, Mercedes is the keeper of the sword!", Herbert said with a smile.
"Then I'll stay here and take care of it. You guys go find Kat."
Jim put a hand on her shoulder. "Are you sure you are OK with that?"
"I will make sure she has the best protection, Mr. Corrigan", the cardinal said, "I'll assign one of my best Swiss Guards to her. He can give you a tour of the parts of the Vatican the tourists doesn't normally get to see. Would you like that, my dear?"
Mercedes' eyes lit up "Would I ever?"
Jim thought for a moment more, then nodded his head in agreement.
"It's settled, then. Father Christopher, you will accompany these gentlemen, and report back to me.!"
"Yes, your grace."
And with that, the team headed for the door, leaving Mercedes clutching the Dark Sword.
3
As they walked down the corridor, Andrew spoke up.
"We need firepower."
"What do you mean?" Christopher asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I mean, we need guns. I could hardly bring my weapons over here on the plane, but if we're going to fight cultists and other rustlers of the night, I'd like to have a weapon."
"I see. Well…I can hardly lend you weapons from the Vatican armory, Mr. Picardt, but I do know of a few places in Rome where you might be able to acquire one. Do you wish that to be our fist port of call?"
"That'd be good."
Christopher led them to a large parking space, where several of the Vatican unmarked cars were parked. He pulled out a set of keys, and indicated a car.
"If you would get in, Gentlemen?"
It proved easier to get out of the area around the Vatican than it had coming in. After half an hour of driving, Christopher pulled up in front of a small, slightly seedy looking restaurant.
"In here, you can do business with Angelo, who runs the bar."
"You're one well informed preacher, you know that?" Jim said, and got out of the car.
"The Vatican knows much that escapes the eyes of normal people", Christopher said and followed them into the restaurant. He indicated with a nod which employee was Angelo, and then fell back outside the door. Jim and Herbert, however, took position right inside the door, effectively blocking the opening. As Andrew walked up to Angelo and tried to engage him in a conversation (which proved harder than he thought, since Andrew did not speak a word of Italian), Angelo kept casting glances at the two men in the door, and finally refusing to talk to Andrew all together. As he stormed off into the kitchen, Andrew turned and looked at his two friends.
"You look like cops!" he said with a sigh.
Jim and Herbert looked at each other, blushed a little and took a step away from each other in one synchronic movement. Andrew hit his forehead.
"You not only look it, you SCREAM cops!"
"Well…we ARE cops", Herbert mumbled.
"Old habits die hard…" Jim mumbled. Then, Andrew grabbed them in the arms and dragged them out onto the street again.
"Next time I go to buy illegal guns…do me a favor and don't go in with me, okay?"
"Guns might not even work on these guys, did you think of that?" Jim answered and lit a cigarette, "they did do a very convincing escape act, maybe they can obfuscate. Maybe they're vampires or some other supernatural being. Then bullets are useless."
Christopher, who had been looking disapprovingly at Jim's cigarette, looked up.
"Vampires, you say?"
"Yeah, from what I know, this whole country is crawling with vampires."
"Indeed, Mr. Corrigan. There are quite a number of vampire clans active in Italy and Rome, the most influential being the Giovanni family."
Now Jim listened even more closely.
"What do you know about those guys?"
Before Christopher could answer, Andrew spoke up.
"Well, if they're vampires and bullets won't hurt them, then how about filling a water pistol with holy water."
Herbert nodded. "Yes, that would work. You could bless it, Father. What do you say?"
Christopher got into the car.
"I say…I know where there is a toy store that sells super soakers."
Ten minutes later, they emerged from a toy store with a filled water gun. They had filled it from the tap in the store, and Christopher had blessed it in the back room. Now, Andrew felt a lot safer. Herbert and Jim had not so much to loose as he, they each had their magic weapons to fall back on. He, however, had before been close to a vampire without the proper equipment, and it was not a mistake you made twice.
"Okay", Andrew said, feeling the comforting weight of the Soaker in his hands, "if there is a thriving vampire community in this town, and we suspect some of them to be behind the kidnapping of Kat, where would we go to find some of them and ask some questions?"
Christopher thought for a moment. "I know of several cemeteries that are known vampire hunting grounds. We could start there. I for one would not mind finding a few of those unclean creatures and make them talk."
Jim looked surprised at the priest, making such a statement, and was about to comment on it, when his cell phone rang in his pocket. He had almost forgotten about it.
He pulled it out and answered the call. "Jim Corrigan speaking."
Faintly, at the other end, he heard a coughing.
"Jim? Jim, is that you, Jim? I can't hear you…"
Jim sighed. It was Murph, probably using the phone wrong.
"Yes, Murph it's me. What's up?"
"Ahhh…Jim, can you hear me over there?"
"Yes, I hear you. Why are you calling?"
"Well…"
Murph waited for a moment. Then he said "um…someone called."
"What someone?"
"Someone from your hotel…Jim can you still hear me?"
Jim sighed again "YES, Murph. I hear you. What did they say?"
"Well…." Papers rustled. Murph was most likely searching through his desk to find the paper he had jotted the callers name down on. Knowing Murph's desk, that could take hours. Jim feared for his company phone bill.
"Ahh, here it is", Murph said, "They called about Kat. To tell you she's in the hospital."
Jim brightened. "In a hospital? So she's been found? What hospital, Murph?"
"Saint Theresa hospital, the guy said…Jim, are you still hearing me…"
But Jim hung up the phone, not in the mood for more of Murph's slow talking.
"Kat's been found. Mr. Vaughn, do you know the way to Saint Theresa hospital?"
"Of course. Get in."
Andrew crawled in the back seat, almost disappointed that they had not gotten a chance to talk business with some vampires.
But his disappointment was nothing against Christopher's.
The car pulled up in front of Saint Theresa hospital, and the Tempus team was out of the car in seconds. A policeman in front of the door stepped up to them and pointed to the car, which was parked right in front of the doors. Christopher put a hand on his shoulder and explained in very few words that it was official Vatican business. That kept him quiet long enough for the rest of the team to enter the hospital.
Neither Jim, Herbert nor Andrew knew Italian, so they all tried to explain themselves to the duty nurse. She looked at them with eyes that made it clear that she did not understand, but quickly, Christopher caught up with them, and translated.
"We are looking for a woman, Miss Horton", he said in Italian, "She should have been brought in very recently."
"Are you family?" The nurse asked in English with a heavy accent, looking from one man to the other.
"Spiritual family", Herbert said, and Andrew solved the problem by simply reaching over the desk and looking at the clipboard with the room numbers on it.
"305. Let's go."
They sprinted for the elevator, and reached the third floor, where they found Kat's room. It was a single bed room, dark except for a night light.
In the bed, Kat lay with a heartbeat monitor next to her. She had obviously been through a lot, her face had cuts and bruises, parts of her hair had been ripped from her scalp and there was a little dried blood on her forehead.
Jim sat down on one side of the bed, Andrew on the other, each taking one of Kat's hands. Herbert leaned in over the foot of the bed, while Christopher sat down in a chair a few meters away. It was his experience, that a priest next to your bed when you woke up could be slightly…unsettling for a patient. However, he listened intently to what the team said.
"Kat", Jim asked, "Can you hear us?"
"It's us, Kat. We're here with you now. It's going to be OK", Andrew continued.
Behind them, a man in a white coat came in from the corridor. Herbert looked up at him.
"Ah", the man said in English, "you must me Mister Corrigan that we called."
"I'm Corrigan", Jim said from his place by the bed.
"What the hell happened to her, doctor", Herbert asked, taking a step away from the bed with the doctor.
"Well…she was dropped out of a car on Piazza del Girolamo, almost unconscious. A couple of tourists helped her into a taxi and brought her here. We looked in her wallet, and found your company calling card, so we called you. As we also found an Interpol identification, we have also placed a call to them. They should be here shortly."
"Did Kat say anything, when she was brought in?" Herbert asked.
"Not to my knowledge. She was as I said, barely conscious."
"Kat? Kat, can you hear me?" Andrew again said, and surprisingly, Kat's eyes opened. She looked at them, seeming only barely to recognize them.
"Iron….Iron….such burning pain…" she cried, her voice thin and shaky.
Jim looked up at Herbert. "Why don't you and the doctor talk outside, Herbert?"
Herbert who saw what Jim was trying to do – keeping Kat's fairy identity secret, by not letting the doctor hear her speak of pain from iron – nodded and pulled the doctor into the corridor.
"Kat…do you remember who took you? Were they vampires?"
"No…some were men…and some were not…so dark…so cold…"
"Where did they take you? Do you remember?"
"Down…darkness…underground…shackles of iron….."
"Shhh…easy…" said Andrew and stroked her hand gently. He could tell that the fairy had been exposed to enormous pressure and stress. He didn't want to hurt her further.
"Kat…tell me, if you remember anything you saw or heard…maybe we can find those who did this to you…can you remember anything?" Jim asked, while he stroked her hair.
Kat twisted her head from side to side, which was hard due to the bandages on her head.
"I heard…voices…angry voices…talking…"
"What did they say?"
"They said…" Kat paused, and then whispered, "They said 'you got the wrong girl!'"
Jim and Andrew looked up, and their eyes locked. Then, as if they were one voice, they both exclaimed:
"Mercedes!"
4
As he ran down the corridor, Jim tried his cell phone, but all he got was a message in Italian. He assumed it was something about the network being overloaded.
He turned a corner, almost slipped on the smooth hospital floor and spotted the stairwell. Herbert and Christopher were right behind him.
Andrew, being the cool and analytical mind he was, had quickly chosen to stay behind and guard Kat.
"She needs protection, in the state she is in now. Until her Interpol friends arrive, we're responsible for her. You go and save Mercedes. Keep me up to speed."
And so, Herbert, Jim and Christopher ran out into the roman twilight, getting into the car so fast that the door almost came off. Christopher turned the key, whispered a silent prayer and pushed the speeder down.
The car shot into the coming night. And as they neared the Vatican, the darkness closed around them.
Mercedes looked up at the magnificent carvings on the alter in the chapel. Even though this was a small chapel, closed off to the public and only for use with the staff in this building, the wood carvings were amongst the most beautiful she had ever seen. Even more grand than the ones in the cathedral in Mexico City.
The young priest, who had given her the tour of the Vatican had excused himself to go to the bathroom, and left her in this chapel, which he considered a safe place. She was not alone – a couple of monks in robes sat on the benches, obviously deep in prayer. And there were 2 Swiss guards outside the door.
She went up to the alter, standing just in front of the steps up to the most holy place. She sat down on one knee, and gazed admiringly at the glass mosaics, when she heard sounds outside the closed chapel doors. It sounded like a body falling to the ground.
She got up, and her hand clutched the Dark Sword's hilt, when the door sprung open, and Jim came running in, looking very upset.
"Mercedes!", he shouted. Now she saw Herbert a few steps behind him.
She took a step forward towards them, and suddenly there was an explosion of movement all around them.
The monks, that had sat quietly in the bench rows suddenly got up and pulled back their robes. They were all holding long knives, that Jim for a moment wondered how they had gotten though the Vatican's tough security, before he dismissed the thought. He reached under his coat, and pulled his own sword out from the non-existent place he kept it, and assumed a battle stance.
Behind the alter, another robed figure appeared, but this one was substantially different – it was very obviously not human. A demon, was Jim's best guess. It's forked tongue slithered in and out like a snake, as it approached Mercedes from behind. Jim opened his mouth to warn her, but he was not fast enough. Behind him, Herbert spoke a magic spell, and a bolt of lightning sprang from his fingertips, hitting the demon squarely in the chest. It was flung back against the wall with a wailing sound.
Jim raised his sword, and one of the monks attacked him. He parried him easily, and with a sweeping gesture Jim cut the man's head off.
Now, a new figure appeared in the door. Father Christopher had caught up with them, and quickly took the situation in. His hand touched the place on his back, where his sword would have been in an encounter with vampires or demons under usual circumstances. But this time, he had nothing more than his crucifix.
"Very well…in God's name!" he muttered, and jumped into the fray, holding the crucifix in his hand. One of the monks attacked him, and Christopher parried his attack with his left hand, while letting the crucifix make a bone-thudding impact on the skull of the monk. The man's eyes went white, and he fell to the ground like a sack of bricks. Christopher pulled his improvised weapon out of the skull with a sloshing sound and made a quick sign of the cross.
"Go with God!" he said, before spinning around to face the next opponent. "Miss perez – stay down on the floor!"
Herbert cast several lightning bolts, which ripped through the air of the chapel and electrocuted the monks where they stood. One of them, however was only grazed by the shot, and fell down in a corner.
"Leave him!", Jim shouted to Herbert, "We need one alive. I want to know who sent these guys!"
Jim found that the monks were surprisingly good with their knives. His jacket was slashed in the sleeve, without drawing blood – something he was grateful for. If these people worked with demons, they probably had access to dark spells to put on their weapon. He wasn't keen on finding out if the Quickening could protect him from one of them. Jim fought with his usual grace and speed, but he had to stop for a moment and gape, when he saw Father Christopher kill the 4th monk – using only his hands and a now quite bloody crucifix! There was definitely more to that preacher than met the eye.
One of the monks suddenly got a blind angle on Christopher, and charged forward to impale him in his back. Mercedes, who had watched the fight from a low position behind a church bench, ran forward, threw herself forward, and grabbed the monk's ankles, tripping him. The monk fell to the ground with a surprised shout, and Christopher managed to hit him with the crucifix, silencing him.
Out of the corner of his eye, Jim saw one of the monks running out of the door the Demon had entered from. He tried to get in a position to cut the monk off, but another monk came between them, and Jim's attention was diverted. The next time he glanced in that direction, the monk was gone.
Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. The last monk fell down and lay still, and the three fighting men drew deep breaths.
"Well…I suppose the chapel needs to be sanctified again, father?" Herbert asked. Christopher nodded, and wiped the cross in his handkerchief. "I suppose so."
"Now, what the hell is it with Vatican security?" Jim asked angrily, "I thought this was supposed to be the safest place on Earth?"
"I have no idea what could have happened, Mr. Corrigan", Christopher answered, "but as the Swiss guards outside were missing, I suggest we find out right away." He left the chapel, meeting the group of guards that had come running summoned by the sound of fighting.
"Mercedes, are you okay?" Herbert asked worriedly. Jim and he quickly went to Mercedes' side, hugging her. She seemed a little frightened, but nonetheless worse for wear.
"They were after you, Mercedes. Not Kat. You. So we had to come for you" Herbert said, still a little out of breath.
"How…how do you know?"
"Kat was found, and brought to a hospital", Jim said. "Andrew's with her. But she said that she heard her captors talk about her as "the wrong girl". So we knew that you were probably going to be in danger."
"Me? Why would they want me? I'm just a girl. I'm not a super-person like you guys are…"
"Nevertheless, they want you. You'd better stay close to us, until we find some way out of this."
Christopher came back, followed by a Swiss guard.
"Father Leonardo, who had given Miss Perez her tour has been found tied up in a closet. And the guards who stood outside have been found unconscious 3 rooms down. Whoever planned this planned it well."
Jim turned to the man, still lying semi-conscious by one of the benches, his knife kicked far away.
"Why don't we ask him who planned it?"
"I'll tell you nothing!"
Herbert took off his glasses and took a deep breath. "Look, we know you are working for someone. Nobody walks into the Vatican with his 10 friends and a bunch of knives, trying to kill a girl just on a whim! So spit out. Who sent you?"
"The Dealer sent me. I serve only the Dealer. I will say nothing more."
"The Dealer? Who the hell is he?" Herbert said.
"What part of nothing is it that you do not understand, American?"
"First of all", Jim said, "he's not American, but German. Secondly, what I want to know is…where were you going to take Mercedes if you caught her?"
The monk looked surprised. "Why do you want to know that?"
"Because I want to go and say Hi to your boss myself. Now, I suggest you spit out…or I'm going to tell the priests here that they can hand you over to the Inquisition, who still packs a mean punch here in the 21st century. So TELL ME!"
The monk seemed to consider it for a moment. Then, he looked Jim in the eyes.
"We were supposed to take her to Piazza Del Tommaso, number 19."
Herbert and Jim both looked at each other. Their old cop instincts always gave them a good idea of when a person was lying to them, and the monk was telling the truth. They were both sure of that.
"Let's go. We might be able to get there before the guy who escaped can warn them."
"But what about Mercedes?" Herbert asked. "I don't think she should come with us. That would be like giving them what they wanted."
"I actually have an idea!", Jim said, thinking of something he remembered from his life as a catholic many years ago. He left the cell where the monk had been put for safekeeping, and pulled Father Christopher aside.
"Mr. Vaughn, if my memory serves me right, isn't it procedure to lock off the pope's apartments, and not let anyone in there, after he croaks?"
Christopher cleared his throat. "Indeed, when the Holy Father passes away, and after the body has been moved to the Lit de Parade, his excellence's chambers are sealed until the new pope is elected."
"Great. Then why don't we stick Mercedes in there? I'm sure that absolutely no one can get in there, and no one would know where she is. Only you and we need to know."
"Well…you, I and my superior, and…I think we would have to involve a couple of others to open his excellence's chambers. But they can be trusted."
"All right. I'll trust you this time, Vaughn. But your church better not mess up again."
"The church did not "mess up" as you put it, Mr. Corrigan. The intruders must have used secret passages, and perhaps magic. There was no way of protecting us against it."
"Right. Sorry if I bruised your feelings. Put a guard on that cell so the monk doesn't run off, and let's see if we can't stick Mercedes in that apartment!"
In short order, Christopher pulled the strings it took to get Mercedes safely inside the late Pope's apartment. She was ecstatic to be in this most holy of holy places, and answered Christopher's stern "don't touch ANYTHING!" with a brief nod and a dismissal wave of the hand. Meanwhile, Herbert called Andrew and brought him up to speed.
"Kat's just been picked up by Interpol", Andrew said on the phone, "and they were kind enough to leave me some…hard calibers. I'll meet you guys at that Piazza address!"
Shortly thereafter, Jim, Christopher, Andrew and Herbert were outside number 19 on Piazza Del Tommaso, Andrew preparing a rather impressively looking handgun.
The house that the monk had sent them to was a normal looking building. In the ground floor, there was a bakery, and judging from the number of windows on the first floor, there were two apartments in the house as well. The house was dark, and no signs of life came from it.
"Well?" Herbert asked.
"Now, we go in!" Andrew answered and got out of the car. The rest of the group followed him.
A quick look through the window of the bakery revealed that it was empty and that no infrared alarm systems was in place.
Andrew worked on the lock, attempting to pick it, but finally had to give up. The lock was too old and complicated.
Jim slipped around to the back of the house, where he found a back door. Andrew had more luck with this, and they slipped quietly inside the back of the bakery.
Everything seemed quite normal, except that not a sound could be heard in the house. If the monks had been here, they were probably gone by now.
A stairway went up towards the apartments upstairs, and Jim went up to investigate them, while the rest of the group finished the checking of the shop.
Upstairs, Jim found 2 doors to apartments. He almost choked, when he saw the nametag on the first one, however:
A & J GIOVANNI
His blood pumped in his ears, as that name brought back memories like a flood bursting through a dam. Giovanni…Augustus Giovanni, the vampire he had hunted for more than 60 years…the vampire that had been the cause of his immortality because he had attacked and killed Jim and his wife, and ironically given Jim eternal life by igniting the Quickening in his blood. Augustus Giovanni, the elusive mastermind that almost seemed to vanish before he could find him…he could be…right behind this door!
Jim hesitated for exactly one second. Then he kicked the door in, using the Quickening to enhance his strength. He jumped into the room, his sword ready and expecting to see a vampire den…covered windows, maybe blood in the fridge…
What he found was a perfectly normal apartment. No sign of a vampire. In fact, the windows were large and uncovered to the east. Any vampire would be burned to ashes in here.
"Jim? You okay?" Andrew's voice came from downstairs.
"Yeah. Fine."
"Then come downstairs. We found a basement."
In the basement, Andrew pointed to a furnace that stood in a corner.
"There's a passage that you can squeeze through behind there. "
He proceeded to do just that. The others followed.
The little room behind it had a dirt floor, but looking at it made them all sure that this was where Kat had been held prisoner. There was large iron chains in the wall, one of them smeared with a little blood. Andrew remembered Kat's cries of the iron that burned her, and shivered.
"It was here?" Christopher asked, and Andrew nodded. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure."
Aside from the iron chains, however, the room was empty. The only other item was a small wooden door, that seemed to be a closet.
Jim pointed to it, and Andrew took a step forward towards it, when Herbert warned them.
"Something's not right here…I've got a bad feeling about that closet. Be careful!"
Andrew peeked through the door.
"I can't see anything. I'm going to open it."
He eased the wooden door open, and looked in. The small closet room was almost empty. The only object in it was a small device, the size of a shoebox. It had a few wires, and a LED display that counted a steady downward countdown.
Andrew looked back at Jim.
"It's a bomb!"
5
"Can you defuse it?"
"I don't know….it's been a while since I took that course in FBI about how to disarm these…oh hell, sure I can!"
They all felt a chill when Andrew took out a small scissor, poured over the wires for a while, and then cut one of them in two.
"There…"
They all breathed a sigh of relief, as Andrew picked up the box and put it under his arm.
"This was obviously a trap for you!", Christopher said and brushed some dust off his black coat. He had kept his overcoat on, since he had dropped by his apartment and picked up his sword.
"Yep. That monk must have counted on us creeping around in here so long that the bomb would kill us off. Can you check on the people living in here?" Jim said.
Christopher nodded. "I think so. The Vatican's eyes see far. We'll tell the police to put a order of arrest out for them. Now…" he looked around at the Tempus team, "I don't know about you…but I could use to vent some frustration. I know a graveyard not far from here, where there's often a lot of vampire activity. What do you say we all go there and…make sure a few of them won't see the sun rise?"
Herbert shook his head. "I feel a little too depleted for that kind of antics. Besides, I'm hungry. But, go ahead, Father."
Andrew looked like he was very much in favor of killing vampires, and after driving with Herbert to find something to eat, Jim, Andrew and Christopher spent a pleasant hour in a cemetery, cutting off heads and turning several vampires into small piles of dust.
Jim was extremely impressed by the way Christopher handled his sword. It was almost as if he was back in Gabriella's training hall, sparring with another immortal for the first time. The fluid moves of his sword were very impressive, and after a particularly good sweep, in which Christopher had cut off both a hand and a head in one fluid motion, Jim turned to him.
"You know what, Vaughn? You're all right."
Christopher wiped his brow with one hand. He hardly looked winded at all – it was as if the fighting had invigorated him. "Thank you, Mr. Corrigan."
Jim waved his hand dismissively. "Naah…call me Jim!"
When the last vampire had been dusted, Andrew, Christopher and Jim returned to the cemetery wall, where they found Herbert finishing the last bite of a sandwich. He had enjoyed the combat sitting on a comfortable stone and eating two Italian sandwiches.
Christopher put his sword back in its scabbard, and was just about to head for the car, when his cell phone rang. He answered it, listened for a moment, and then hung up, looking serious.
"We'd better get back to the Vatican. The monk has just been found dead in his cell. He has committed suicide."
When the door to the cell slid open, they all felt slightly sick to their stomachs.
The dead monk hung from the ceiling, but to say that he had committed suicide would not be entirely accurate. The dead monk hung suspended in his one leg, upside down. His throat had been slit, and his other leg was bent at an angle, so he almost looked like an abstract rendition of the number 4. His arms hung below his head, and almost touched the ground.
"It looks…almost symbolic", Andrew said, moving around the body to look from all angles.
"It is symbolic", said Jim, "Don't you see it? He's made to look like the Hanged Man from that Tarot card we found in Moonlight Cove."
"I wonder…" said Herbert thoughtfully, "if that name he gave us – the Dealer – would refer to a dealer of cards. Tarot cards."
"It is a very likely theory", Christopher commented. "The Tarot cards have great symbolic value, and he who deals them, wields a substantial amount of power."
"Do you think that power is enough to get into the pope's apartment?" Herbert asked.
Christopher looked worried. "I hope not. But seeing that these people already got into secure areas of the Vatican twice…
They set off for the Pope's apartment, running more than walking.
"Oh, Jim, Andrew, Herbert…I'm so glad you're back!" Mercedes exclaimed as they burst into the Pope's apartment with Christopher in the lead. She was sitting on a sofa, with a large brown book in her lap.
"Are you all right?", Jim asked. He was dying for a cigarette, but when he took out his pack, Christopher sent him an evil look. He put it back in his pocket.
"Oh, I'm fine. But I was so scared. You see – I was a little nervous after that big fight in the chapel, and I thought it would calm me to read a passage from the scripture…"
Jim rolled his eyes, but Mercedes continued:
"…and then, I took the bible from the nightstand, and look!"
She opened the book in her hand, a beautiful leather-bound edition of the bible and showed it to them. Jim thought for a moment over if Mercedes could read Italian, when he noticed that what he had taken for a bookmark was no such thing. It was a tarot card, stuck between the pages. The card of "The Hierophant"…and it was upside down in relation to the book.
"What the…" he exclaimed.
Andrew whistled a low sound between his lips. "The Dealer strikes again…"
Christopher took the book, and looked at the card long and hard, as if searching for a meaning in the image of the old pope on the card. Then, before he could say anything, Christopher's cell phone rang in his pocket. He answered it, listened and said "We'll be right there."
He looked up at them. "The exorcism ritual of your sword is ready to begin. Mercedes, I would like for you to carry it for us to the room where it takes place."
"Yes, all right."
"Then, please, follow me to the dungeons."
The room chosen for the exorcism could have come straight out of a castle from the Middle Ages. The floor, ceiling and walls were all made of large, black stones, and on the floor a large circle had been drawn, in it's middle a small podium. Two priests in white robes stood by a small podium, saying some sort of Latin chant and spraying holy water from their fingertips every once in a while.
"Please, place the sword on the podium there", Christopher said and pointed. Mercedes walked into the circle, put the sword down and stepped quickly out again. One of the priests did something at the symbol, like he drew the last inch of a line, and then looked up at Christopher and Cardinal Tauran, who had just entered the room, closing the door behind him.
"We are ready to begin, your grace", one of the priests said.
"Then, proceed."
Jim fished out a cigarette, but once again, Christopher stopped him, this time by actually grasping his arm.
"This room has just been purified. You're not going to smoke that in here and spoil it all, are you?"
"Well…when you put it like that, I suppose not…"
The priests began their chant, and a blue glow appeared around the sword's edge.
"This might take a while", Christopher said, "if you are dying to smoke that thing, go outside in the corridor."
Jim nodded and left the room to light up. Andrew followed him, magic sometimes made him slightly uncomfortable if he was not the one involved in the spell. Mercedes also joined them, while Herbert stayed with Christopher inside. His eyes were fixed on the ritual, looking for any tricks he could pick up.
"So…" asked Andrew, "Do you think that our friend The Dealer killed the pope?"
"The card certainly seems to suggest than, doesn't it?"
"That Dealer is a bad, bad man!" Mercedes said with emphasis, "He killed my family and kidnapped my friend. I think we should find him and kick his butt!"
"Why are you saying he?" Jim asked, "It might as well be a woman. We have no way of knowing."
"No but maybe we have the opportunity to find out if someone actually DID kill the pope!", Andrew said, "I think they put the dead pope up in some kind of visiting chamber so all the Catholics can see him. Maybe I could get to examine him."
"You mean do a post mortem?"
"I doubt if they would let me perform an autopsy on their holy father, but maybe some sort of medical exam."
"Let me get the Cardinal and ask him!" Jim put out his cigarette, and peaked into the room, and approached the Cardinal. "Hey, I've got a question for you."
"I see…what is it?" The Cardinal asked, his eyes never leaving the ritual.
"Can Andrew get a chance to look over the dead pope's body?"
"Of course. The viewing will commence tomorrow…"
"No, I mean now, without people looking over his shoulder. You see, we think he was killed."
That got the Cardinal's attention. He turned and faced Jim.
"What do you base such accusations on, Mr. Corrigan?"
"That we found a Tarot card in his bible. We've had a lot of those going around lately."
The Cardinal stroked his chin, and then strode out of the room, with Jim at his heels.
"Follow me, Mr. Picardt", he said to Andrew. "The rest of you, remain here!"
Andrew shrugged, and then headed down the corridor.
As the exorcism progressed, the sword seemed to glow with various colors. Finally, when the ritual came to a close, the glow vanished. The first priest stepped into the circle and took hold of the sword's handle.
It was an action that turned out to be a big mistake.
The priest froze in his tracks, and the glow that burned seemed to rush back into the sword, and over his body. The glow surrounded him like an aura, and he raised the sword over his head.
Jim and Mercedes, who had come back into the room to watch the finale, reacted at once, as did Christopher. Jim pulled his sword out, and took a step forward to make a called shot to the head of the priest, and Christopher stepped forward to block him.
"Don't! It's just what the demon wants you to, don't you see? Kill the exorcist! Look, the glow is already fading again. But this is obviously not working."
The glow did indeed fade from the priest's body. He let go of the sword, and fell to the floor in a faint.
Mercedes, who had gripped Jim's coat when he stepped up, now looked at Christopher again. "So…what do we do if it doesn't work?"
"We try something else. Obviously, this demon is stronger than we thought, so…" he wiped his forehead and was surprised to feel sweat there not from the heat of the room, "Now I suppose I'd better try it myself! And Mercedes…I'd like to ask you to help me!"
6
Mercedes looked disbelievingly at him. "Me?"
"Yes. You seem to be the one person that the sword cannot hurt. Therefore, if YOU hold the sword up, while the ritual is performed, I don't think the Demon have anywhere else to go. It will simply HAVE to be cast out."
"Well…all right…" Mercedes said, smiling a small, insecure smile and looking at the priest.
"Mercedes", Herbert said, "Don't do this if you don't want to…"
"No…" she said, and her eyes seemed to shine a bit in the light from the candles, "no, I…I can do this…I know I can."
"All right. Jim, if you would grab the arms of father Nicoletti…it seems that he has fallen outside the circle when he fell. Then, Mercedes, I want you to go into the circle and pick up the sword."
Jim pulled the unconscious priest into a corner, and Mercedes took a deep breath to steady herself. Then, she stepped into the circle and picked up the sword.
"Hold it with the tip downwards", Christopher said, and then began saying the ritual.
"The lord is my shepherd, I shall want for nothing. He lets me lie down in green pastures…."
Soon, as the ritual progressed, the sword began to glow – this time, however, not with an aura. It was the glow of red-hot metal. Little puffs of vapor rose up from the blade.
Mercedes' hands were clasped tightly around the hilt, even though she felt the heat becoming more and more unbearable. She reached inside herself for some inner strength, finding it and she held the hilt even tighter.
A strange, screaming sound began filling the room, and Jim and Herbert covered their ears. Christopher continued with the ritual, saying the holy words again and again, feeling the strength and comfort he always felt in such situations fill him.
Then, suddenly, a cloud of smoke seemed to flow out of the metal in the blade. It looked like hot metal looks when a blacksmith sticks a piece of glowing iron into a jar of water to cool it. It billowed up around Mercedes, the screaming sound reaching a crescendo. And then – in a heartbeat – it was over. The sword stopped glowing and now looked like any other sword. In fact – it seemed as if the colors in the hilt, and the designs on it were somehow duller…less perfect.
Mercedes let go of the hilt, and with a clang, it fell to the floor.
Herbert and Jim ran to her, and she gave them both a hug. She smiled, and then showed them her palms.
"Look…I felt it stop hurting when the demon left…Dios es magnifico!"
Her hands, which had held the glowing hilt for more than half an hour should have been filled with blisters….but they bore no signs or marks of any kind.
Christopher came up to them, and let one of his fingers stroke her palm.
"Impressive, Mercedes. Thank you so much for your help – I could not have done it without you!"
"Yeah…well, I think you're due for a break…and a Christmas bonus!" Jim said, and Mercedes nodded.
"I am rather tired…I think I could use a cup of coffee."
"That we can provide. If you go to the right when you come up the stairs, there should be a kitchen and a coffee machine", Christopher said.
The three detectives vent out the door, and Christopher breathed a sigh. Then, he followed them.
While the ritual was taking place deep beneath him, Andrew Picardt was going over a body with a magnifying glass. Actually, only parts of the body, since without more than the suspicion they had now, the Cardinal had not allowed him to strip the dead pope naked.
He had been over the body twice, and still not found any signs of violence. The second time, though, he had an inspiration and pushed open the dead pope's mouth. Possibly, he had been poisoned or bitten into something that would leave a trace in the mouth.
What he found, was less subtle, but more puzzling. Under the pope's tongue, someone had placed a wafer.
Andrew looked at the Cardinal, who had observed him from the corner of the room.
"Is it customary to put a piece of holy bread in the pope's mouth?"
"No, it's not."
"Well, someone decided to do so." Andrew took a pair of tweezers and picked the wafer out of the mouth, putting it into a zip lock evidence bag. Then, he turned his attention to something that had puzzled him the first time over.
"The dead pope's right hand was closed tightly into a fist. And even if you took rigor mortis into consideration, it was pretty obvious that he must have made a fist as he died. That's not enough to prove murder, Cardinal, but it's a pretty good indication!"
"Is there something in the fist?"
"I don't know…would you mind if I took a look?"
The Cardinal shook his head, and Andrew carefully probed the fingers open. There, in the palm was the small gold cross that the pope had usually carried around. A drop of blood was on it, looking like a dark gem.
"The cross…maybe it means something…I don't suppose you'd let me take this with me?"
"I don't think so, no."
Andrew scraped the small pieces of dried blood into another plastic bag. "Well…maybe I can get something out of this in a lab somewhere. For now, I'm done. Let's go find the others."
They all met back in the Cardinal's office. As Andrew and the Cardinal entered, Christopher put a hand on the Cardinal's shoulder.
"Can I have a moment, Sir?"
"Of course."
Christopher took the Cardinal out into the corridor, and brought up to speed, including how Mercedes' hands had not had any blisters after the red hot sword had burned her hands.
"It was just like the saint Poppo that bore the iron burden for the Lord. It might be a prudent thing to watch miss Perez…she has the definite possibilities of being a true Saint."
"Possibly…I will make up my mind about that shortly. For now, let us join them in there."
As the two priests entered the office and sat down with a celebratory cup of coffee, Jim spoke up.
"Listen, Vaughn, I know you have already got a pretty sweet thing going here in the Vatican, but…I've got an offer to make you. I saw what you could do in that room downstairs, and I've seen how you can fight and do all sorts of things. Now, I'd never thought I would ever say anything like this to a priest, but…we could use a guy like you in our agency. So – what do you say? Wanna help us protect the innocent and help the hopeless?"
Christopher became aware that all eyes in the room rested on him. He cleared his throat.
"Well, Jim…I'd like to thank you for that offer. But as you say, I've got a "sweet thing" here in Vatican City. I think it would be up to my superiors to make such a decision. For now…why don't you think of me as a consultant of a sort?"
Jim grinned. "You haven't said no yet. That's a good sign!"
"Jim, you're in Rome. We never say no. We say not now….."