Title: Irretitus
Part: 11
Summary: What if Camerlengo Patrick McKenna was truly innocent and not the manipulative SOB he turned out to be?
Note: I want to thank Rap541, James Axelrad, Rashida, Becky, Trekde, and Vi for their input and for their expertise. Without them, this story would not be what it is today.
Disclaimer: Angels & Demons and its characters are creations of Dan Brown, scenes are from Ron Howard and Imagine Entertainment. All NCIS characters are creations of Don Bellsario and owned by CBS. I make no money off this endeavor.

This story all started out as a "what if Camerlengo Patrick McKenna wasn't the manipulative bastard he turned out to be?"

Chapter 11

Ziva sighed in frustration. Every lead on Fr. Simeon she managed to find and chase down ended up a dead-end. Whoever this Simeon was, was either very lucky, or very smart. The only thing she did find out about the archbishop was that he did not approve of some of the actions of the previous Pontiff. It looked as if it began when Fr. Patrick McKenna was placed in the Camerlengo's position. She maybe Jewish, but she did know it was highly unusual to have someone as young as the former Camerlengo placed in a position of being both an aide and confidante to the Pontiff. Maybe not, she mused as she looked at the new Pope's background once again. Even she understood the importance of family. At that moment she understood, or will understand, what the Pontiff went through when he lost his adopted father.

The Pope wanted him nearby. Ziva smiled as she looked at the information once more. The Camerlengo's position was normally given to a Cardinal, and Patrick McKenna was certainly not a Cardinal, let alone a bishop. She looked at her computer monitor while trying to figure out what to do next. Gibbs had mentioned the previous day that there were cameras set up everywhere within Vatican City. If she could tap into that, then she thought she might be able to follow Simeon's movements leading up to his death, and before the explosion over the city.

"McGee," she called as the agent in question came through the door, yawning. "Can you get into Vatican City's CCTV?"

"What?" Tim stopped and looked at her, clearly confused. Her question was the last thing he expected to hear. "Oh," he continued when he realized what she was wanting. "I've tried, but it's a standalone system."

"I see," she muttered as she gathered her things. If it was a standalone system, then she needed to go to the Vatican to see the images.

"Where are you going?" McGee asked as she brushed past him on the way out the door.

"Trying to find out where Fr. Simeon was before he was killed," she threw over her shoulder.

"Ziva," McGee hurried after her. "You need to leave your gun here," he said when he caught up with her in the hallway. "They have rules about that there."

She rolled her eyes, but complied with the request by going back into the library and storing her weapon. It was only when she made it to the front of the Embassy did she make a call. A few minutes later a nondescript car pulled up. Getting in she said something in Hebrew while closing the car door.

Less than ten minutes later they pulled up to the side of Vatican City and she got out. Even though it was morning, the small city-state's doors were already open.

Getting into the city was easy enough, especially after she showed the guard, who was wearing renaissance style blue clothing, her NCIS ID. When she was an active Mossad Control Officer she never set foot within the small nation. There was no need. Mossad was…tolerant…with the Catholic Church. Most of their anger stemmed from Pope Pius XII silence during World War II. It was Pope John Paul II that helped ease the relations with The Vatican and Israel.

Ziva felt like a tourist as she looked at the different architecture around her. On closer inspection, she found several cameras placed in discreet locations, but set in such a way so that everything was in sight.

"Posso aiutare1?"

The Israeli turned around to see who addressed her.

There was a blond man standing behind her with narrow eyes. "I know you." Before she could answer he continued, "What is Mossad doing here?"

"For the past few years I have been an exchange officer working with NCIS," Ziva answered while pulling out, once again, the identification the American organization had given her. "I'm an investigator now."

The plain-clothed security officer looked over her ID while she continued, "I'm also working with Agent Gibbs." His head whipped up and his eyes narrowed once more.

"Come with me," he handed the ID back then turned. As they moved deeper within the complex Ziva couldn't help but look for the exits and windows. The buildings had solid construction compared to modern buildings. She knew there wouldn't be a whole lot of ways to get out if trapped.

The building she entered looked harmless enough. Poking her head into one room she found that it was set up for surveillance. This must be Vatican Security.

"Commander," someone came up and handed a piece of paper to her guide. He answered in what Ziva recognized as a Swiss dialect of German, then handed it back. The newcomer looked at her with a questioning look and he answered, "NCIS."

When they were alone once more, he directed her into an office. "What are you looking for?" he asked as he sat down. On the desk she read the nameplate, Georg Chartrand.

"Fr. Simeon. I am trying to backtrack his movements starting from when he was killed to before the Cardinals were kidnapped." Ziva paused, "You have CCTV. I saw several cameras on the way here. I would like to see the images."

Chartrand thought over her request before standing up. He indicated Ziva to follow him.

"Mossad has nothing to do with this," she told him in German. "I have no complaints concerning the Catholic Church. But that's not what I'm here for," she finished in Italian.

For a moment Chartrand looked at her. Eventually he nodded and led her out of the office and into another room with several computers. He accessed the video system and searched for the images in question. After showing her the controls, he backed away and moved towards the door. "If you need any help, there are officers just outside," he indicated the door.

Ziva nodded while pulling out her notebook and pen. "It's going to be a long day," she muttered as she started skimming through the video images. What did surprise her was how high-tech Vatican security was. It also made it a lot easier for her to search for the images that had Fr. Simeon in them. She started by watching the Pontiff wearing only a black cassock, move in front of the cameras and look around before opening the door and moving inside. He looked tired and worn. Shortly afterward Fr. Simeon entered the room. More to satisfy her curiosity, she accessed the images from the study.

What Ziva saw next was not what she was expecting. Not able to help herself, she continued watching with something akin to horror, and then winced. Immediately she stopped the video and went back to the earlier images. Using the rewind feature, she was able to backtrack the priest through the day and eventually to the previous day. It showed him arriving back at the Vatican and dressed not in clerical clothing. Why would he be wearing that? She noted the date and time. Pushing further back she watched as he looked around before leaving. "Very interesting."

Not finding anything else of interest, she logged off the computer and gathered her things to head back to the Embassy. If anything, what she saw made her more curious about what happened. The ten minutes was more than enough time for her to gather her thoughts, especially with what she was going to tell Gibbs.

Arriving back, Ziva immediately went in search for the senior agent. Gibbs was in the communications room watching the news. Just as she was about to open her mouth he turned to look at her and asked, "What did you find?"

"Fr. Simeon left the Vatican the day before in civilian clothing." She looked at her notebook before continuing, "When he left he was looking around as if he was trying to make sure that no one saw him leave."

"So he is Janus," Gibbs muttered while taking another sip of coffee.

Fr. Paolo Cruz sighed as the phone rang again. Ever since the announcement, His Holiness's official email inbox quickly filled to overflowing with messages from around the world, all asking and praying for his health. Then there were the phone calls, especially from the media outlets wanting to find out information they could give to their viewers and listeners. He looked over to Fr. Seamus who had just replaced the receiver. They both knew there would be a lot of emails and calls, they just never expected to be completely swamped.

This wasn't the only thing he was worried about. Fr. Paolo had quickly started looking up to the Church's new leader, even though he was young. It was something he was not ashamed of either. When Barnabas had been camerlengo many lay would come to him and ask for an explanation on what the Pope had said concerning his more obscure comments. Although many times he understood the erudite elder leader, he would stand just within earshot and listen to the Camerlengo's patient explanations.

Paolo shook his head when he refreshed the Pontiff's email client again. The number off to the side let him know how many new messages there were. "Another five hundred in the last thirty minutes, Fr. Seamus. Maybe I should have chosen the phone."

It sounded as if Fr. Seamus snorted. "You were never good with people over the phone."

Paolo looked at the screen and skimmed through the listing. One caught his attention. The person behind it obviously knew how to hide the sending email address, and there wasn't enough information in the header for any email savvy person to figure out where it was coming from. Like the others, it was addressed to the Pontiff, but the message was vastly different. Bothered by what it said, Paolo printed it out and placed it on top of the small stack he was going to bring to Barnabas for him to answer.

There was another ring, and then a sigh. "This is Pope Barnabas' official office, how may I help you?"

Gathering what he needed, Paolo rose from his desk and indicated where he was headed. Seamus nodded and waved a hand, telling him he was busy. He left the front office and moved into the Papal apartments. Even though he had not heard from the Pontiff about the messages, he still thought that it would be good for him to know that the prayers of the faithful were rising to the Throne like the incense that was used during mass. On his way he ran into Camerlengo Strauss.

The older Cardinal had a perturbed look on his face when he saw what Paolo was holding. "Fr. Paolo, His Holiness does not need to be disturbed at this time."

"But Your Eminence, I would think he would want to see some of the letters he's been receiving."

Strauss shook his head. "It is your job to make sure that he's not bothered by trivial things." They both turned and moved towards the entrance of the apartments.

Trivial? Paolo saw this as Barnabas' way of staying connected with the faithful.

"You will write the answers and let him sign them when he's strong enough," Strauss finished when they reached the hall.

"Yes, Your Eminence," Paolo answered while bowing his head. When the Camerlengo had moved into the corridor he hung back within the apartments. At first he looked down the corridor and then back to where the medical suite was located. The Cardinal was right in that it was too soon after His Holiness' heart attack, but there was this letter he knew the Pontiff needed to see.

Turning around he headed back to the medical suite ignoring the Camerlengo's words. It bothered him, but only to a point. Reaching the medical suite Paolo stuck his head through the door to see how the Pontiff was doing physically. The sound of the computers registering his heartbeat made almost a droning sound that was semi-mesmerizing at the same time. "Your Holiness?" he kept his voice low as he entered the room.

It troubled him greatly at how sluggish the Pontiff was reacting. "Paolo?"

"Your Holiness, your inbox is overflowing with prayers from the faithful for your healing and get-well messages," Paolo moved across the room then bowed and kissed Barnabas' hand.

A smile crossed Barnabas' face before disappearing. "I don't think that is why you're here," he breathed.

Paolo sat down in the available chair, "Only partly. I have several letters that you might like to hear, along with one that has no name or indication from where it came from." He paused, "It mentions the events that took place during the Conclave."

"I see." Barnabas closed his eyes and sighed. "I don't want to anger them any more than they already are, it would only make everything worse." After a moment he continued, "I want to know what they said."

Patrick McKenna, you will receive requests from the scientific community to study the effects of the anti-matter explosion above Rome. The future of the Catholic Church depends on your answer.

We will be watching you closely.

"Merde," Barnabas muttered under his breath. "Tell them that they will know my answer soon enough." He turned to look at Paolo and found a shocked look on his secretary's face. It took a moment for him to realize what he said. The Pontiff closed his eyes and whispered something while bringing his hand up to his mouth and formed the cross with his thumb.

"Yes, Your Holiness," Paolo was finally able to answer. "I will leave you to your rest. Tomorrow I will show you the letters that you can answer." He rose from his chair, trying to put out of his mind what just happened. The Pontiff is human and has human failings and weakness just like everyone else he kept running through his mind.

TBC...

1 Can I help you? - Italian