Now, my friends, the end is here. I'm sorry for not mentioning about this earlier, but I think…the ninth chapter was already nearing the climax. From here on, there will be one huge spike upward and down, down, down everything goes. (Bad pun, since there is a jump scene here.)
Don't worry; I have an Easter egg for my readers. An eleventh chapter will be posted as an epilogue, and it is sure to surprise you.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Angels and Demons. I only own Helena, Feliz, Laguardia, Leo, Bella…and some of the others who are original creations of my demented head. I also don't own The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. I'll be using a quote.
Warnings: Foul words, violence…
Chapter 10: Time Roulette
"Good morning, Patrick," Mr. Gray said, gray eyes staring like daggers. "Buongiorno." Patrick replied. Mr. Gray walked around his charming, noble, and calm prey. "I'm sure you're enjoying the slow death I want you to suffer. I hope you also enjoyed this room carved from the mountain…"
"You got this from 'The Cask of Amontillado'. I'm impressed with your interpretation of the ending…and here I am, suffering the same fate as poor Montresor. All this for revenge…just lovely," the former camerlengo raised his bright blue eyes to his captor with smirk on his pale lips. "You think you're in a position to talk?" Mr. Gray asked, annoyed at Patrick's calmness.
"Why not?" Mr. Gray was inwardly terrified of the man. Patrick's eyes seared through him. "You want to bomb the seat of the Church? I think you're mistaken if you think it will destroy the thousands of years that the Church had survived. With or without the Vatican, it will prevail. Even if you kill me, there wouldn't be a tangible harm. I'm worried for all the innocents you could kill...and for them, I'm ready to lay my life." He said, every inch the priest he once was.
"And I thought that dispensation would remove the indoctrination...you remind me very much of a certain saint in your Church...By the way, I took your gun away." Mr. Gray sneered, taking the key and unlocking the chain which held Patrick's left wrist. "Indoctrination? I understand my religion better than you ever will. Of course, I studied it. Well, thank you for letting that go. What deal are you going to put me through?" Patrick asked, with the same tone Mr. Gray used.
"I have to free you because I don't see any progress with the slow death method. Do you want to know what I'm going to do? I did make an initial plan...but I changed it anyway." Mr. Gray said, the chains clanging loudly as his goons took a hold of the released captive. "Of course," Patrick said.
"I don't need to explain. I'll just take you there, you filthy scoundrel. But before that…I'll just check on my little firecracker." Mr. Gray said, giving a devilish smirk before he and his goons left. "Your acetone-based bomb?" Patrick asked, insolent as ever.
"How did you find out about that, you bastard?"
"There's a metal bolt in your library…I found your plans in a secret compartment…and remember the time you went with the driver and bought salon products?" For that, he received a sharp punch in the face, making his nose spurt out a gentle stream of red mercury.
Mr. Gray left, infuriated. How did he know about that? Storming off together with his goons, he was thinking of burning Patrick McKenna alive once more.
Leonardo inched his way towards the mountain manor, shaking off the cramped feeling of being in an airplane seat. Nobody was outside, making it easy for him to go and look for some hidden entrances. He was trying too hard; a doorway had been gaping at his face for so long. It was the same doorway Helena and Chartrand used to run away from Mr. Gray.
He was surprised to find out that it was unlocked, so he entered, greeted by a cold stone corridor. He closed the door and put the latch back. There were numerous doors but the one at the end of the long hallway piqued him. It was narrower than the others. Only an anorexic could fit there! He thought sourly.
To his dismay, the door was locked.
What do I do now? He turned the knob violently, twisting it once to the right, twice to the left. Three more turns to the right and one to the left later, the door suddenly opened. "What the--" Officer Silvestri almost swore. He couldn't just wonder and think how it happened. It was open; therefore, he had to go in. Time was running out.
Running in and closing the door, he found a spiral staircase which seemed to reach to the heavens. He removed his shoes and took quick, light steps up the stairs so as to avoid detection. His shoelaces were tied to his belt loops.
The top seemed miles and miles away but he could not stop. He had to hurry. Patrick's life could be decided by the deadly game that he had played with the killer. When he was in the middle, he found a rock attached to the wall. Out of curiosity, he took out the rock. He realized why the climb had been long and hard. This staircase was carved out of the rock outcrop!
Returning the rock, he kept running until he reached the last step. He was panting, but he still had to reach wherever Patrick McKenna was. He saw a door, as narrow as the one downstairs, and decided to rush into it. It was open, thankfully.
Leonardo found himself walking into some sort of medieval dungeon, with moss creeping up the dark stone walls. Immediately, he was filled with dread upon walking. There could be cameras, but his eyes found none. He had to take this risk.
He heard a sound that chilled his bones. Chains…rattling chains. He tried to find the source of the sound. It was strongest when he was in front of a door with iron bars on the bottom. He crouched down and looked through the bars.
"Is anyone there?" he whispered, hoping the stones would create an echo. "Yes," Leonardo perked up and saw his target. "Are you one of his goons?" Patrick asked him. "No..." The younger man said. "How did you get here? No one knows about the path to this place," Patrick said. "I snuck in," Leonardo sheepishly replied, "I'm here to rescue you,"
"That's not necessary. What you have to do is to alert the Genoese police about this man. File these cases against him: frustrated homicide, frustrated rape and terrorist activities. He's planning to blow up the Vatican, and ever since, the Holy See has known. They're just waiting. Contact them and tell them that the plan is to be executed today…but not if I can stop it." Patrick said, quite daring and noble.
"Mr. McKenna, I'm Leonardo Silvestri of the Polizia di Stato…His Holiness' nephew..." "He told me a lot about you. I never thought I'd see you in person," Patrick said, "Go and get them arrested. If you come here in time, you might stop the bomb from being sent over."
"Why didn't you think of escaping?" Leonardo implored. "The window has high-voltage wires. I'll die trying. There are no weak, crumbling rocks in this room. You should get away from here or else you can get into trouble as well," Patrick was practically shooing the younger man.
"But what about you…you can die," "I almost died the last time a bomb was involved. If this is to be my reprieve for all the bad I've done, I'm ready. The Lord can take me anytime He wants to." Patrick told the officer. "Now go, before anyone finds you here," Patrick bade him goodbye, making sure that the young man would not be found.
Leonardo used the same path to get back and escaped into the forest, knowing the mountain very well. He had been up the mountains many times. It wouldn't be a problem. I hope I can get back in time.
Patrick silently murmured some prayers, making his amends with Heaven, knowing that he could die. He could hear a clock striking its final hour. The bell rang loudly, deafening him. It was an ominous sensation. Chartrand, Bella…take care of Helena for me if anything happens.
The wooden door burst open and Patrick was seized from the room, bound with rope. Mr. Gray was holding a package in his hand. Patrick could be sure that it was the explosive device. "Come, Patrick. I want to show you how you'll die. With a bang, and in style, of course," he sneered.
"You look awful…bloody nose, dirty clothes. You smell even worse…" Mr. Gray added, "Why didn't you give up on living? Anyone whom I put through that kind of torture shouldn't live this long." "Let's just say that an iron will props your dying body up," Patrick said, sharp as ever.
"Don't worry, I have some consolation for you. You'll meet your end looking clean," Mr. Gray opened a door and a shower room appeared. "I'm not sure about this." Patrick asked. "It's safe," Mr. Gray turned one of the knobs and warm water came out. "Do you think I'd let you die painlessly?"
"At least…it's not a…never mind," Patrick went inside. The door was locked from the outside. He had no choice but to actually take a bath. He won't gas you. He wants to blow you apart. The warm water was luxurious, but he did not waste time. He could also meet his end in that bathroom. He scrubbed at himself and rubbed soap vigorously all over until he was clean. He dried himself.
"Are you done?" Mr. Gray asked. "Yes." The door was opened and he was tossed a complete set of clothing: underwear, a black shirt, denim pants, and work boots. He wore them immediately, not bothering to look at the mirror and combing his hair. Mr. Gray opened the door, pleased.
"Much better…at least you'd die with some dignity," Mr. Gray's henchmen grabbed him by the arms and led him in front of the manor. "Here you are…" Mr. Gray said, showing him a familiar transportation device. "It will just take you half an hour…or less…to reach the target and bomb it,"
Patrick was about to fall unconscious (more because of the shock of seeing a helicopter than his hunger and thirst) but he saw a way out. He saw Leonardo run through the bushes. Good. Now, here we go. "To Vatican City please, pilot. Do you have your parachute?" Mr. Gray asked, leering at Patrick.
"Yes, sir," the pilot said. "Hold it! Let go of the man and put your hands in the air," a police officer lunged out of the bushes, together with others, all holding rifles. Mr. Gray said, "Marcelo, gun please." The henchman drew out a pistol. Mr. Gray unlocked it and cocked it to Patrick's head. "If you shoot, he kicks the bucket," he told the policeman.
"Hold your fire," the officer said, facing his men. Mr. Gray nodded to the other henchman and he dropped a strange can on the ground. "BOMB VOYAGE!" the light-haired criminal yelled, a deep laugh following the quote. Gray smoke enveloped the area; it was impossible to make out any figures in the haze. "WHAT'S THAT SMELL?" an officer blurted through coughs.
They could hear the deafening whir of helicopter blades and the smoke started to clear when the chopper rose into the air and sped off. Some of the officers tried to shoot it down. "MR. MCKENNA'S ON BOARD! DON'T SHOOT!" Leonardo yelled. "The guy's missing…and so are his men," the chief said.
"Look!" another policeman pointed to the manor. Angry red flames engulfed the building, choking the manor in thick black smoke. "Someone call the fire department! Silvestri, contact the Polizia di Stato in Rome! You! Contact the Vatican and tell them to brace themselves and evacuate the citadel! Squad A, Genoa is on red alert until we find Mr. Gray." the chief barked orders as Leonardo looked into the sky, wishing that they had done better.
I have to contact Miss Gallego. He sped off in his car and went down the mountain, not minding the rules anymore, just to get to the station.
"Hey…Carla… move over! I need to call someone in Rome! It's urgent !" Leonardo had forgotten that words had to be spaced because of the situation. The girl on the desk just ran off, quite terrified. Leonardo sighed, then punched Marino's office number in a record two seconds.
He was tapping his fingernails on the table, almost digging into the wood. He was panicking like hell. One ring…two rings…three rings. "Hello? Commissioner Simon Mar--" "Commissioner…the bomb is to be transported via helicopter. One of our agents has called the Vatican. A manhunt has been launched to find Mr. Gray," he said continuously.
"WHAT?!" Commissioner Marino almost fell off his seat. "Where's Patrick?" he demanded. "I'm afraid, sir, they have taken him with the chopper and the bomb." Leonardo said gravely. A string of curse words fell out of Marino's mouth. "He told me that I shouldn't have followed him…he said he was ready to die." Leonardo said.
"WHY DIDN'T YOU BUST HIM OUT?" Commissioner Marino said, "Ugh. Don't always let people play the martyr. Save them if you have the chance. Remember that when you go on your next rescue mission…if THERE will be a next time. Go back to Rome. Now." Commissioner Marino barked.
Nothing else was heard except the banging of a phone.
"Son, are you alright?" the same superior who was with them said. He was a new commissioner, sent to replace the corrupt old one. "Commissioner Salvi, I have to leave for Rome. Commissioner Marino got upset with me." Leonardo said with shame. "You may go, Leonardo. God be with you. We'll take it from here," Commissioner Salvi said, putting a hand on the young man's shoulder.
"Thank you, Sir," Leonardo took all his belongings from the station and headed off to the airport.
With his hands and legs tightly bound, Patrick looked at the explosive package beside him. "Enjoying the ride?" asked the pilot, grinning at him with yellow teeth. "If your teeth were much whiter, I would have enjoyed it a bit more," Patrick said, fumbling around.
"You're lucky he said that I couldn't kill you no matter how many mordant comments you give," the pilot said, pushing them to full speed. "Don't push your luck," he added, going back maneuvering the chopper.
Damn…anything…anything to set me free and throw this object into any water form, a sea, a lake, a river…anywhere! Helena told me that this kind of explosive doesn't do much damage in water. What's poking my back? He moved a bit and turned his head around. Oh…too bad for you, sir. You've been very careless with your stuff…
"Commissioner Marino seems to be VERY pissed today," Officer Fabia, one of Helena's colleagues said. She shook her blonde head with a frown. "I don't know, but there seems to be a bomb crisis," Bella, Helena's best friend, said. "Shush. Here he comes…" Officer Fabia said, pulling Bella into a hallway.
Marino's steps were enough to destroy the floor of the police station. His hands were balled into fists and his skin was turning red. His hair was a mess, there was a bandage wrapped around his hand and his white dress shirt had a few drops of red blood. He had been walking around the office for the past few minutes, looking like a man outside the delivery room.
Commissioner Marino was near Helena's desk as he walked. He did a double-take and thought, No, I shouldn't say it. She might worry… He went away from the inspector's desk. He heard her phone ring. "Hello?" she said with a dark, tired voice. For the past few weeks, Helena seemed washed-out, always tired. She sometimes showed no interest in doing anything. The commissioner had given her only paperwork for the past days.
He stayed away from the inspector's view, listening.
"Chartrand! What made you call?" Helena asked, her brown eyes filled with worry. "Helena, a certain Officer Silvestri had told us that the bomb is being transported as we speak. It's in a helicopter." Chartrand said, worrying. "WHAT?! WHAT ELSE DO YOU KNOW?"
Helena heard the phone being passed around. "Hello…Helena, this is Commander Laguardia of the Swiss Guard. I'm sorry to tell you this but…" Danilo's tone was grave. Don't tell me…don't tell me… Helena was almost crying. "Is he dead?" she asked finally.
"If the chopper can be stopped in time…he won't be," Danilo said.
"I promise…if I see Mr. Gray, I will ask Feliz to tear him apart!" Helena barked into the phone. "Wait! Who's Feliz?" Commander Laguardia and Sergeant Haber asked at the same time. "My dog. I promise that I'll murder that son of a--"
"Helena, calm down." His Holiness' voice was heard before she could continue swearing. "How can I calm down when I don't know what's happening 1000 feet up in the air?" "Helena…let me help you. How about we pray…this will not take long. Please, please calm down." His Holiness was a sea of unbroken calm.
"Alright…" she made the sign of the cross. "Repeat after me…or say it after me if you know it. Chartrand, Danilo, Karl…say it with us. Lord, grant me the serenity…" the Pontiff started praying. "To accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can…and wisdom to know the difference. Amen." Helena prayed together with them, hoping that the things she could not change would turn in her favor.
Helena hastily made the sign of the cross. "Helena, I'm sending Chartrand and Sergeant Haber over there with you. Do not worry about me and Commander Laguardia. We will evacuate as soon as we hang up this phone. God be with you, my child," His Holiness said.
"Yes, Father. I will be expecting them." Helena sighed as her callers hung up. Oh, God. What am I to do? Commissioner Marino left, pained to hear that she knew. Sergeant Haber and Chartrand came over, requesting the commissario to give her a leave.
Patrick was slowly cutting the ropes binding his hands using a sharp piece of scrap metal which had fallen off the old chopper's side. He could see Rome already, but a bit far. He needed some more time to unbind himself. Come on…come on. As long as he worked silently, the pilot wouldn't notice. He could feel the cut ropes slide off his wrists, giving him a semblance of comfort.
His feet were still bound, and they were a bit tricky to hide from view. He sawed off the ropes using the metal, trying not to grunt or to make a sound in the process. A little bit more…a little bit more… Finally! The bonds were cut loose…he was free. He threw the sharp metal aside.
"Here comes the best part," the pilot took the gun and the parachute from the other seat and looked at Patrick. "How did you…?" Patrick lunged at him and took the gun out of his hand and cocked it to his head. "No time for questions. Bring me anywhere above the Tiber, or any body of water." Patrick said.
Fearing for his life, the pilot started looking at the ground as Patrick took the gun aside. "Angelo…Angelo, where are you?" a familiar voice came out of the radio. Patrick grabbed the microphone. "Hello, Mr. Gray."
Mr. Gray swore that he almost had a heart attack. "How did you…?" "Enough. Your plan of bombing the Vatican ends this very moment." Mr. Gray had to chuckle. "Patrick, Patrick…Patrick…my dear boy, you see, I always have a back-up plan. Whether using that bomb or any other way, the Holy See will cease to exist." Mr. Gray said calmly.
"WHAT?!" Patrick's voice might have bounced over the Apennines.
"Go on, Angelo. Tell him why, you cowardly bastard." Mr. Gray said. "Patrick…this is a chopper set to malfunction any moment now. It has a defect but is enabled to fly for at least half an hour. This helicopter is laden with explosives. Even I don't know where they are." Angelo said, his English thickly accented.
A beeping sound was heard. It was loud, deep…it meant danger. "There you go, Patrick. Get ready to die," Mr. Gray said. "I'll get out of this, Mr. Gray. Don't you remember something important about me?" "And what should remember about you, Patrick McKenna?" Mr. Gray asked with a sneer.
"I know how to operate a helicopter."
"DAMN IT! I thought you were just acting!" Mr. Gray yelled as Patrick turned off the microphone.
"Angelo…" "Mr. McKenna, please, please…I don't want to die." Angelo said, looking at the former priest. "Just promise me you won't be a traitor." The pilot nodded. "Don't stray from the path. I could see the river." Patrick said, going to the back and taking the explosive. Rome came into view. As soon as Patrick saw the Tiber, he took the explosive and waited for the right time to drop it, observing the wind current.
He could hear Angelo murmuring prayers. Patrick dropped the bomb from the door. It fell down…down…down into the murky waters. Even if it did explode in the Tiber, the damage would be relatively lower than on ground. The helicopter was now cruising at an unbelievable speed. It was heading straight for the dome of St. Peter's.
"I can't control it anymore!" Angelo yelled. Patrick went back to the front and edged it away from the citadel. He could see numerous police officers and civilians in the square. No, they won't be harmed. I'll make sure of that. The chopper was turning the dome into its bulls-eye. "We have to land the chopper somewhere! Anywhere!" Angelo said.
"I can't land it here in the square. The airport's too far…this thing can blow up." The radio sounded again. "Patrick, Angelo, I forgot to tell you that the explosives at the back are timed. I hope you're already at the Vatican. So, either way, I still win. By the way, you have 1 minute and 30 seconds left before I see your charred corpses somewhere in St. Peter's Square." Mr. Gray said and then went off.
He went on again, "Oh, and Angelo, make sure that it crashes."
Patrick wanted to pull out all of the hair on his head. He tried to keep the chopper away from the Vatican. "Look, I think we can make sure this crashes into a place without people…near the Valle dell'Inferno. I know this sounds crazy, but we have to jump off this chopper. Leave everything behind. We have to share that parachute." Patrick said.
"But, I'm afraid of heights!" Angelo said. "I was too, but you have to keep faith. We have to make sure no civilian is hurt. We have to make sure we're alive. Come on." Angelo went off, carrying the parachute. Patrick tied a few strings to himself, and the others to Angelo. "Are you ready?" he asked.
Angelo just nodded, almost nauseous seeing the panorama. "At the count of three, we jump, alright. One…two…THREE!" together, they jumped out the helicopter door. Patrick opened the parachute. It was working. They drifted away slowly, watching the chopper miss the dome of St. Peter's and go straight into a vacant lot.
The timer on the explosives showed "00:00" on their little screens. In a second, civilians saw tufts of smoke behind the dome. They were thinking that it had hit the gardens, but they were dead wrong. It had hit the vacant lots near Valle dell'Inferno. Charred remains of the helicopter rained on the dry ground.
The Swiss Guard and the police tried to calm the panicking crowds. Cameras sprouted from everywhere, taking pictures of the blast. They barely noticed the white parachute floating down into the Square, with two people ready to go down.
"Mamma, mamma! Look!" a little child told his mother, pointing to the sky, "It's a bird!"
Of course, it wasn't.
The crowd started cheering. It reminded Patrick of Conclave…looking out, he could see white smoke from the crash site.
Chartrand, Sergeant Haber and Helena were walking through Piazza Navona, not saying a word to each other. That was until they saw the white smoke from behind the dome. "Conclave?" Helena asked. "No! Of course not…" Chartrand said, crossing his arms around his chest. "Wait…come here, both of you!" he pulled Helena and Chartrand into the nearest restaurant.
They looked at the television set, and the breaking news was focused on Vatican City. "Vatican Bombing Attempt Foiled". It graced the strip holding the news titles. "Former camerlengo Patrick McKenna and helicopter pilot Angelo Bianchi have successfully steered away a malfunctioning chopper from Vatican City. The mastermind of this attempt was a certain "Mr. Gray" who is now being hunted by the Genoese police…"
The three looked at each other. They had no other impulse but to…
"TAXI! TAXI! To the Vatican! Pronto! 50 Euros if you can take us there in less than 5 minutes!" Sergeant Haber ran outside, hailing a taxi. Helena and Chartrand sat at the back; Haber in the front. The cab sped away, hearing of the all-important news concerning the Holy See.
Patrick and Angelo were led by the Swiss Guard to the Apostolic Palace. They were to have an audience with the Pope, now that the crisis had ended. Commander Laguardia was relieved to have Patrick back, although he looked a bit pale and tired from all that he had been through. He knocked on the Pope's door. "Avanti." the Pontiff's gentle, calm voice sounded. The commander opened the door.
"I am glad that you are safe, my child." the former Cardinal Mortati said, running towards the former priest, embracing him. "God had been with you through all. Thank you for saving our lives." He turned to Angelo. "Thank you, also." Angelo took off his hat, falling at His Holiness' feet. "Forgive me, Father. I was a mercenary of Mr. Gray..." he said, crying. "You are forgiven. It is not important if we have once been in darkness. What is important is that you turned away and saw the light." the Pope said, gesturing for Angelo to stand up.
"Commander Laguardia, please do request for a few sandwiches and a pitcher of water. They both look terribly famished." the Pope told the commander, who saluted and left the room. "Thank you, Your Holiness. That is much appreciated." Patrick said, sighing in relief. "You had us very worried, Patrick. Three days and three nights...Helena was already at the point of breaking down." His Holiness said gravely.
Patrick's ears perked up. "Where is she?" "I asked her to take a stroll with Chartrand and Sergeant Haber, but I doubt they're walking. I am sure they have heard the news and might come here like raging bulls." the Bishop of Rome chuckled, as Commander Laguardia and a subordinate came in with a plate of sandwiches, two glasses and a pitcher of water. Patrick and Angelo ate heartily, finishing all the contents of the given platters. Commander Laguardia's eyes glowered.
While Patrick was drinking a glass of water, he and his companions could hear noises outside. Two male voices, one female voice...and they all sounded agitated. Someone's heels were already scraping the tiled floor. "No! Do not enter yet! Let them have a moment of peace!" Commander Laguardia argued with them outside. "Oh, come on! She's his girlfriend! Cut her some slack!" Sergeant Haber said, with a theatrical sigh. Patrick's eyes teemed with excitement.
"I told you they'd come like raging bulls." the Holy Father faced him.
"Angelo, I'd like you to meet my--" Patrick said, but was interrupted by a door flinging open and an all-too familiar person rushing towards him. Angelo let out a helpless wolf-whistle. Luckily, Helena did not hear it, or else she might have kicked him even if they were in His Holiness' office. She almost choked Patrick in her embrace. "I hope I'm not dreaming," she said, tears gushing out of her eyes. "You aren't..." Patrick said, clutching her tighter. "You're safe...I dreamt of you...me...over the clouds...souls flying," "Sssssssshhhh...." Patrick quieted her, knowing exactly what she meant.
"Isn't that a happy ending?" Sergeant Haber asked, sighing deeply and with a goofy smile. Commander Laguardia rolled his eyes. "Hopeless romantic," he muttered, "Chartrand...please make them break the embrace. We have important things to discuss." But Chartrand was busy sighing together with Sergeant Haber. "I should date Bella again..." he said.
"Eheeeeeemmmmm!" Commander Laguardia cleared his throat rather loudly. "Oh, we're sorry, Commander." Patrick said, as he and Helena broke the embrace. "Oh, let them be, Commander. You're probably envious because you don't experience such affection, am I right?" His Holiness asked, with a knowing smile. The Swiss Guard official sighed. "I have to get an affidavit from Patrick and Mr. Bianchi. They are to be the star witnesses if Mr. Gray is to be tried...if by God's grace he will be caught."
"We have time for that...don't worry, Commander. By the way, Patrick, I remember, before your excommunication, I told you that you can choose from the many paths the future holds for you. Have you made a decision yet?" His Holiness asked, smiling. "Yes, Your Holiness. I have made a decision. I'm sure this is the best path I can think of. I won't regret it. Of course, I have to know if Helena also agrees with me." Patrick dusted his clothes, making himself seem presentable again.
"Patrick...what do you mean? You're going to be a priest again?" she asked.
"No...I can't marry if ever I become a priest, right?" Patrick asked. Helena wiped the tears off her eyes and pushed his head playfully. "Of course, you could say no. It would be alright with me," he said. "Can we get straight to the point? Both of you are too evasive." Angelo said impatiently. "Alright, Angelo. I'll go straight to the point," he faced the only woman who was in the room,
"Helena, will you marry me? Well...the ring will follow, I promise..."
"Ring or no ring...yes, I will marry you." Helena said. "May I be your wedding officiator?" His Holiness asked. Both of them smiled, meaning "yes". "NOW, CAN I GET PATRICK TO SIGN SOME AFFIDAVITS FOR WITNESSING?" Commander Laguardia said. "Yes, you may. Go now. Feliz will bounce off the walls when he sees you," Helena said, as they all left, including Mr. Bianchi, the pilot.
As His Holiness closed the door, he saw a 20 Euro bill on the floor, with a note which read, "You won. -Danilo" I knew it.. His Holiness thought, picking up the bill and keeping it in his desk. He would give it back to Commander Laguardia anyway.
Later, that afternoon, Patrick was praying in front of two gravestones in Rome's Verano Cemetery. The graves were those of Inspector Ernesto Olivetti and Commander Rocher of the Swiss Guard. He was praying that both of them would forgive him for his past actions. His crimes were the reason why they died.
I don't know if you both will forgive me...but now, I can be sure that the Holy See is safe, just the way you two envision it to be. If ever you watched over me during the experience in the chopper, thank you. I'll remember you both...especially now that I'm getting married. I hope both of you are in a better place than this world.
Eternal rest grant onto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May they rest in peace. Amen.
"Patrick!" a high-pitched voice came from behind him. Patrick quickly did a sign of the cross and looked back. A bit short, with brown hair and bright green eyes, it was none other than Leonardo Silvestri, the Pope's nephew, and a Polizia di Stato officer. "Leonardo!" the younger man ran towards the former camerlengo. "I'm glad you're safe, Patrick. I was on an airplane when everything happened. I tried to catch the quickest plane from Genoa," he said.
"Thank you for the concern, Leonardo. How's the situation?" Patrick asked, walking with him towards the cemetery gate. "It's good news for you, Patrick. The authorities caught Mr. Gray an hour ago. He was trying to escape via sea but he was caught by the coast guard during a random ship inspection. He is currently awaiting trial for three cases...the same ones you said earlier." Leonardo said, quite happy to deliver the news.
"That's good, then. I would like to congratulate you and the force," Patrick held out his hand. Leonardo firmly shook his hand. "But you are the real hero, Patrick. I salute you," Officer Silvestri saluted Patrick the way he would honor his superiors in the police force. "Come, I'll drive you, Patrick. Where do you want to go?" Leonardo said, taking out his keys. "Home...near Piazza Navona, please." Patrick said.
Patrick thanked the officer for driving him to Helena's flat. Leonardo went back to the station, hoping that Marino was not angry anymore. Patrick stared at the door, looking for the secret key in the doorway held by a spring. Luckily, he found it. He used it to open the door of the flat. He put the key back in its place, turning the knob of the door. He heard sharp barks from the inside, and saw the most beautiful dog he had ever seen in his entire life. Wagging its tail, the dog was eager to find him home.
Patrick entered the house, only for Feliz to pounce on him and lick his face. The Siberian husky did not want to stop...until it saw its other master looming above them with a smile on her face.
"We missed you very much, Patrick. Welcome home."
Technically, yay...it's finished! :D But I'll be posting a surprising little epilogue soon enough. Wait for that!
Thanks to everyone who read/reviewed/put into his/her favorite this piece of fiction. Your support and reviews helped me finish this even if time runs against me.
-TDYSG