Hello friends! happy September! I added a new character in this story today, just so you know. I had a good idea with him.

I DO NOT OWN THE ROBERT LANGDON SERIES BUT DEAR GOD ALMIGHTY DO I WISH I DID.


Chapter eight

THIRD PERSON POV

IN AN UNKNOWN AREA

Where he stood in the shadow of the Church of Illumination, the assassin anxiously checked his watch. It was 6:15, and Hunter, his associate, still hadn't returned. What is taking him so long? He checked his watch again and snarled under his breath. Damnation! It hasn't even been two minutes! Scowling at the passerby, he pushed himself off the wall and began sulking through the archway, heading down towards the cells. Might as well check on the Preferiti while I wait. And I need to get the fire started so the brand can heat as well as check for any more messages. Dialing his phone for his absent teammate, he slipped through the wall recess and made his way down the dimly lit hallways. He knew these passageways so well by now that he didn't even need a flashlight. The reception was surprisingly good for being underneath tons of stone and descending deeper into the underground and Hunter picked up on the fourth ring. "Hey." The younger male's voice came clear without a hint of static. The assassin scowled harder and said "what's taking you so long? You were supposed to be back at six."

"It's kind of difficult to get to the target right now, you know." Hunter replied tersely. "It's being kept under lock and key. Besides, that god damn monk wouldn't leave it alone and by the time those two were ushered out I had to wait for the rest of the staff to leave the room."

"Well, is the room empty or what? Hunter, you don't even need a car to get down to the cells. Just grab it and go." The assassin ground his teeth. As much as he loved this kid, Hunter got on his nerves more times than he could count.

"But it's not that simple!" the seventeen year old boy began to whine. "You're not giving me enough time. We still have two hours. It'll be in the Castle by the time you need to roll out, I swear. Besides, I can't blow my cover with the Priory, and the Camerlengo just called up a while ago. He was worried about Nevu, and he could've decided he needed to come and visit her again. I want to make sure the target makes it out of here without anyone noticing and a burden like that can't be concealed in a briefcase." Hunter pointed out. The younger male blew his hair out of his eyes in frustration. "Aw Shit!" he hissed into the phone. "I've gotta go, man, I've gotta go now! It's Commander Richter. He looks like he's pissed and I need to get out of here 'cause the Camerlengo and that Opus dei bastard are with him. They'll recognize me! See you soon man, see ya!" The phone went silent except for the droning buzz of a disconnected call. The assassin hung up the phone calmly. He reached the door and slid inside. Standing in the center of the row of cells, he surveyed the room. One, two, three, four preferiti. Ignoring the muffled prayers of the men around him, he went to the canisters and made sure the powder was correct. "Conclave will go on without us." A man's voice broke through his thoughts. Stony faced, the assassin turned to look at the men behind him, a match twitching in his fingers. "May God forgive you for what you've done." Another added, and then kissed the rosary in his hands. Despite trying his hardest, the assassin felt his face twitch. The beginnings of a smile. "I don't think God cares, Father." He says, quietly, amused, enjoying the fear on the older man's face. "And if He has a problem with anything about me, it won't be with what I've done. It'll be with what I'm about to do." Still enjoying the shell shocked look on the Cardinal's face, he struck the match and lit the tinder on fire, then tossed the contents into the stocked fireplace. Moving smoothly, almost gracefully, he picked up the first brand and laid it in the dancing flames almost lovingly.

Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

HUNTER'S POV

Hunter adjusted the bundle in his arms carefully. In this uniform, he thought as he strode down the halls, getting closer to the Church of Illumination with every step, I should look like an altar boy carrying out the trash. But still, he tried to stick to the shadows. He didn't want to be caught by a priest or worse, Vatican Police. Aha! Reaching the door, he laid the bundle, carelessly wrapped in a sheet, down on the floor and unlocked the door by turning the heavy brass keys. After opening the door just enough for him to slip through, he relocked the door and left the keys in the exact same position as he had found them. One thing I love about this door, Hunter thought, is that if locked while open, it will close fully and still be locked. Fewer complications for me. Scooping up the bundle again, trying to be as gentle as possible, he slipped through the door and pulled it shut behind him. It closed with a soft thump and he began to hurry through the halls. It didn't take him long to reach the cells, where the older man stood, hands casually in his pockets, empty cell door already open for him. Hunter game him a grim smile and stepped into the small room. The assassin walked in behind him and stood silently, hands still in his pockets, a strange half smile on his handsome face. Hunter knelt on the ground and began unwrapping the sheet. As the form of the target below began to take place, he marveled again at the drug that had been administered to it. That stuff works really fast, huh? The last sheet was taken off, and he lifted the target onto a cotton bed in the small room. With the same graceful steps he had inherited from his father, he crossed the room, shut the cell door, and locked it. The brown haired, feathery headed boy ignored the curious stares from the Cardinals and removed his alter server clothes, revealing a jeans and a plain black shirt. Then facing his father, he straightened up and waited for the words that would come next. The assassin peered inside the cell. "got her, huh?" he says, removing his glasses and wiping his face off. "good. While I go take care of number one," he motioned to the preferiti, "you stay here. If she wakes up, don't say anything, don't do anything. When I get back," he grinned. "We can start the party."

Hunter nodded. Once more he looked at the still form of Sophie Nevu, lying unconscious in the cell far below the Vatican where her Camerlengo and guardian monk would soon be searching for her.

He wondered how much it would affect her when she found out she was the daughter of

Christ.

Hunter hoped it would break her inside, because he really, really, didn't want to do the other option.

He loved her too much.