To: googoogajube (more)
Re: Operation Conclave
We have information concerning this international terrorist organization that has targeted the Catholic Church hierarchy for infiltration and assassination. They appear to have multiple objectives: elimination of all mutants and their supporters, takeover of the Vatican, and from there, manipulating all the Holy See's diplomatic ties and resources toward world domination. Or destruction. They couch their rhetoric in various twisted misinterpretations of end-times prophecy, leading us to conclude that this is a doomsday cult as well as a terrorist organization. So whether they succeed or fail, mass murder will be on their agenda. And it may be of such a scale undreamt of even by Hitler or Stalin, I am afraid. Hundreds of millions, mutant or otherwise, will die.
Your assignment, should you accept it, will be simple, but not easy. There is a substantial risk that you will not survive. Each archdiocese listed in the attached file has a position open. The cardinals there need new secretaries or personal assistants. You are to keep track of their appointments, monitor all correspondences and activities, report to me anything even remotely suspicious, and above all protect them. And tell no one. But their support of the real Pontiff has made them all targets.
-Zeitgeist
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Three weeks later…
To: googoogajube (more)
Re: Operation Conclave
EXFILTRATE NOW!
-Zeitgeist
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"Buon giorno, Santitá. E grazie." Elizabeth slipped into the confessional at the back of St. Peter's Basilica. "I'm glad you made the time to hear my confession before Mass."
"And I am glad that you understood that all I put at your disposal included the Sacraments, too, figlia mia. So how long has it been since your last confession?"
"Seven weeks. Santitá, let me begin with some business. Our success in halting this group's infiltration of the Vatican means it's time for me to move on. Everything is as close to under control here as they can get, and I can do no more good here. In fact, you'll be in greater danger if I stay.
"And now on to my sins. Would it be all right if we continued the conversation in German?"
"Sprichst du Deutsch?" said the Pontiff, surprised that she didn't reveal up until now that she knew his native language.
"Ja. In fact, I have not been honest with you since we met. My name is not Elizabeth Errol-Koenig. And while you may have guessed that Angelique Sauvegarde is a nom de plume, she's not a friend or colleague. She's another one of my aliases. Ich heißeKassandra Altheim. And I am not with FBI."
"But the FBI said you were their top investigator," said the Pope.
"Ja, I was. I mean, Elizabeth is. But I'm with the CIA. I am a spy."
The Pope had heard worse sins confessed than this. But no confession made him quite this nervous before.
"Not to worry, Eure Heiligkeit. We still share the same objectives. But my interest in this matter is not just that of anyone who loves the Lord, hates oppression, and all that. Heiliger Vater, Ich bin ein' mutant."
The Pope looked into the girl's black-coffee colored eyes. She was shaking. Here was an opportunity to prove he meant what he said about welcoming mutants. Or prove he was a hypocrite who could speak very nicely of mutants as long as he never came face-to-face with them. But he didn't see an opportunity to prove anything. He only saw before him a person in need of comfort and some absolution. "Meine Tochter, being a mutant is not a sin," he said.
"Ich verstehe. But deceit, intimidation, blackmail, bribery, and violence? My abilities make me very effective at that sort of thing. Furthermore, I never revealed to either agency that I am a mutant. Granted, they never asked. But under current US law, I am a double agent. A traitor to my country. I have been sharing sensitive information with a couple of my fellow mutants, and I've even had some work for me as operatives. Even though it is in the interest of protecting lives and my country's ideals, technically, under the law, I have recruited more double agents, including a few with criminal backgrounds. They are not enemies, though several countries certainly see all of us as such."
The Pontiff took a deep breath. "Can you think of the good you've been able to accomplish with your talents, without resorting to violence and such, and breaking the law?"
"Not really. My ability to get things done with minimal fuss is not the same as getting things done with none at all. I know you heard that I helped bring in seven armed assailants from that doomsday cult. What you may not have heard is how I did that single-handedly, and without drawing a weapon. I stepped out of time and knocked them all unconscious before they could so much as fire one shot, Heiliger Vater. And it is likely that I will actually be responsible for several deaths before this assignment is done."
The Pope thought for a bit. "I am aware that your CIA has paramilitary capabilities. And I can guess that you don't wear that St. Michael medal just because you enjoy fencing. You see yourself as a kind of soldier, nicht wahr?"
Kassandra nodded
The Pontiff continued. "Just recall that in the early days of the Church, when it was illegal to even be Christian, there was a controversy over whether Roman soldiers would be allowed in the Church, and whether Christians would be allowed to serve in the military. The answer was yes.
"And at various points throughout history, attending Mass, reading Scriptures, or even simply professing the Faith was, and in too many countries even now still is, a grave act of civil disobedience. Do not confuse conscientious objection to an unjust law with disrespect for authority.
"There will come a time for you to beat your sword into a plowshare, but until then, as long as you fight only for just causes, with humane and honorable methods, and only after diplomacy fails, you are not sinning."
"And if any part of me enjoys the fight, then what?"
"A Rosary on the Sorrowful Mysteries for your Penance. They may be criminals, but they are as much God's own creations as any other person. Reflect upon that and pray for their souls. And get yourself back to the salle, so you can enjoy the grace and power of your fencing without hurting anyone."
"Oh, that brings to mind another matter I need to confess, Heiliger Vater," said Kassandra. "I told you about my friend Kurt, right?"
"Your favorite fencing partner, the off-and-on-again seminarian? How could I forget? You seemed so happy to hear when he was finally ordained to the transitional diaconate."
Kassandra blushed furiously. "Well, that's another thing I wasn't entirely honest about."
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It wasn't easy getting on the first and quickest flight from Fiumicino to her rendezvous at Kennedy Airport. Rapidly escalating tensions in Zürich, Paris, and Berlin meant airports overcrowded with people who, like her, were desperate to leave Europe before things heated up any more. But Kassandra had anticipated that and pulled a couple of strings to get on that plane.
Now all she had left to do was wait until they'd landed. And she could not wait. Her best efforts to save every life at that X-Ranch in Nevada only resulted in one girl rescued. And that little genius, while fidgeting with some artificial teleportation device, managed to zap herself directly into enemy headquarters and was nearly killed there. After giving away the Xavier Institute's location. Then Nightcrawler, always the gallant knight in the shining leather X uniform, led that rescue. And then something else went wrong. So dreadfully wrong that Zeitgeist had to drastically step up her plans.
Maybe some music would soothe this savage beast that paced behind Kassandra's black coffee-colored eyes. She pulled on a pair of headphones. "Di mi quando tu verrai," Domenico Modugno sang. "Di mi quando, quando, quando." Nicht jetzt. Kassandra changed the station. Now it was the Beatles. "Anytime at aaall, anytime at aaaall…."Any other time, she'd like that song. Now it was downright depressing. How about some classical music, preferably some that would specifically get her mind off of what troubled her, rather than remind her of it? She changed stations just in time to get a headache's worth of Richard Wagner's Gotterdämmerung. When Siegfried was tricked into drinking the potion that erased his memory, no less. Great. Just great. Maybe the movie would provide some nice escapism. What was it? Captain Blood, starring Errol FlynnWhat kind of verdammter flight was this? Apparently she was doomed to be taunted by the fates of ironic in-flight entertainment. She yanked the headphones off, pulled a sleeping mask over her eyes, and figured she should at least try to rest.
Even that escape was denied her. The nightmare that woke her early that morning and drove her to frantically arrange last minute meetings, fire off emergency orders, and commandeer a seat on this plane haunted her again. And so all she could do was pray that the plane would land safely. And soon.
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