Saint Peter's Soldiers (A James Acton Thriller, Book #14) (12 page)

Giasson’s
eyes narrowed. “What legend?”

“That if
one stares into the eyes of the portrait, one is imbued with great power.”

“Ridiculous.”

Reading
snorted. “I find it impossible to accept that people would believe in such
nonsense.”

Acton
spun toward the door as shouts erupted from the other side. Gunfire shattered
the calm of the university and he instinctively reached out and drew his wife
behind him as he put himself between the woman he loved and the violence he
knew was about to descend upon them. Reading leapt to his feet, positioning
himself beside Giasson who was now standing between them and the doors.

They
burst open and Acton closed his eyes, allowing a held breath to escape, two
police officers entering.

Thank
God!

Clearly,
whatever had happened outside these walls had been thwarted, Giasson’s
precautions seeming prescient now that it was over. He had been right to be
nervous all along. Four were dead already, so somebody felt this drawing was
worth killing for, and with the Keepers of the One Truth involved, he knew
these men were capable of anything.

The two
police officers raised their weapons, pointing them at Giasson and Reading.

Laura
drew in a quick breath behind him and he took a step back, feeling her body
press against his.

Footsteps
outside the doors echoed through the halls and into the lab, the pace slow and
deliberate, as if the person had no concerns of being caught.

And
why should they. The police are on their side!

A tall
man appeared, quite tall to be seen over the imposing figure of Reading,
Giasson himself no small man. The man appeared Scandinavian. Blonde, blue eyes,
chiseled features.

With a
slightly maniacal look in the eyes.

I
wonder what da Vinci would make of him.

The new
arrival pointed at the portrait on the lab table and snapped his fingers, one
of the officers moving toward it. Giasson blocked him, holding out his arms. “This
is the property of the people of Italy.”

A slight
smile broke out on the blonde man’s face then he suddenly drew a weapon from a
shoulder holster and shot Giasson. The Vatican Inspector General spun then
collapsed to the tile floor with a cry, Laura moving to help him, Acton holding
his arm out, keeping her in place.

“You are
mistaken. It is the property of the Führer.”

Führer!

Acton’s
mind reeled as Reading placed himself between the man and Giasson, who lay on
his back, gripping his shoulder. “Take it, it’s not worth dying for.”

The man
raised his weapon, conceding Reading’s point with a slight bow. He flicked the
weapon and the guard resumed his track for the portrait. This time Acton’s feet
carried him almost irresistibly forward, blocking the guard’s path.

The gun
was aimed at him.

“Another
fool?”

Acton
shook his head. “No, but it’s priceless. At least let me package it properly.
It will only take a minute.”

The
weapon was raised again and the man nodded, Acton hiding his sigh of relief as
he and Laura rushed to the table. The paper it had been wrapped in was to the
side, awaiting analysis. He grabbed it and wrapped it around the unframed
portrait, using the creases that had lasted seventy years. Laura held up the
crate as he carefully slid the portrait inside.

Then he
did something that he couldn’t believe.

With his
back to their assailants, he fished his cellphone out of his front pocket and
slid it into the crate, Laura’s eyes bulging slightly before she caught
herself. She handed him the top of the crate and he tacked it in place. He
lifted the package and handed it to the police officer who immediately headed
out the door.

The
blonde man’s heels clicked together and he bowed slightly.

Just
like Acton would expect a good Nazi to do.

The man
looked at each of them, his eyes finally coming to rest on Reading.

“I bid
you good day. But should you follow us, more will die.”

Outside Sapienza University, Rome, Italy

Obersturmbannführer Franz Hofmeister climbed calmly into the
passenger seat of the awaiting Audi A8, the engine already revving as his
driver waited for Hofmeister’s boot to clear the pavement.

It did.

And the
car leapt forward, the door shutting itself from the force. An SUV ahead of
them with his two accomplices peeled right as his driver turned left. The sound
of a siren had him peering in the side view mirror to see if they were being
pursued when the driver spoke.

“Ahead
of us.”

Hofmeister
looked to see a police car, lights flashing, careen onto the street ahead of
them, racing toward them. He held his breath as his driver pulled over to the
right along with the other traffic.

And the
squad car blew past them.

They
were safe.

He
turned in his seat, looking at their passenger in the rear. “It was exactly as
you said.”

“I have
never lied to you.”

Hofmeister
frowned. “But you
have
failed us.”

The man
shook his head. “No,
your
men failed. I told you exactly where and when
the drawing would be and your men were late, then overreacted. All they had to
do was wait for them to leave the Vatican grounds, then take them quietly as
was the original plan. If they had, then we could have avoided all this
nonsense and the involvement of the authorities. Idiocy! Incompetence!”

Hofmeister
felt his blood begin to boil. “You forget your place.”

“My
place is at God’s side, and his is more powerful than your Führer ever was.”

“We will
see.”

“An
abomination of science is still just a man, not a god. I serve our Lord and
savior. The only reason I’ve agreed to help you in your own mission is your
promise to me.”

Hofmeister
checked his emotions, the fire in the man’s eyes clearly enough for both of them.
“And it is a promise we will honor.”

The man
raised a finger, a finger Hofmeister would have broken off if it were anyone
else. “You better, or you will face the wrath of our organization and the Church
itself.”

Hofmeister
smiled. “Do not worry, my friend. When the Fourth Reich is established, the
Catholic Church will stand by its side, the only permitted religion in the new
world order.”

“And St.
Peter’s soldiers will ensure you keep your word.”

Sapienza University, Rome, Italy

Reading had already called 112, the Italian equivalent of 911, as
Acton and Laura leapt to Giasson’s side. Reading hung up the phone and stepped
out into the hallway to check on the four officers down in the hallway. Acton
was pretty sure the two who had betrayed them were the two stationed at the
front entrance to the building. They had clearly ambushed the four at the door.

They
never stood a chance.

“How do
you feel?” asked Laura as she pressed Acton’s handkerchief over the wound.

“I’ll
live.” Giasson winced at the pressure.

Acton
rolled up his jacket and placed it under Giasson’s head. “This is starting to
become a habit with you.”

“Only
when you two are around.”

Acton
laughed, as did Laura, Giasson starting to join in before he decided the pain
wasn’t worth it. Acton patted his shoulder. “Take it easy. No more comedy.”

Sirens
sounded outside and Reading returned, going to the window and peering outside.
“Police are here.”

Acton
frowned. “They were here before and that didn’t help us.”

“We’ve
been betrayed,” said Giasson through clenched teeth.

Reading
grunted. “Yes, but by who? Who knew?”

Giasson
looked at Reading, shaking his head. “It’s a short list, I assure you.”

Footsteps
pounding on the marble in the hallway had them all turning toward the sound,
Father Rinaldi rising from saying prayers, as Acton was sure they all wondered
whether these police were truly on their side.

Four men
burst inside, guns drawn, orders shouted in Italian, the waving of guns the
only translation anyone needed to get their asses on the ground and their hands
up.

Another
man entered, shouting at the officers who immediately raised their weapons. He
snapped his fingers, directing two of them to Giasson’s side.

“He
needs an ambulance immediately,” said Laura, still on her knees, hands clasped
behind her head. Acton watched her, concerned, sweat beading on her upper lip,
her entire body trembling.

“Yes,
ma’am, one is arriving as we speak.” The man in charge looked at Giasson. “Are
you okay, my friend?”

Giasson stared
at him, his eyes narrowed slightly, giving Acton the distinct impression he
didn’t trust the man. “What are
you
doing here? I thought you were
‘unavoidably detained’.”

“I’m
here now. What happened?”

Paramedics
rushed into the room, the police relinquishing their efforts to the trained
personnel. The man in charge motioned for everyone to get to their feet. “You
aren’t under arrest. Please, stand.” He turned to the paramedics. “How is he?”

“The
bullet went straight through, just hit muscle. Lots of blood, but he’ll be
okay.”

Acton squeezed
Laura’s hand in relief as Giasson was lifted onto a stretcher. He held up a
hand. “Wait.” He motioned for Reading to come closer, then whispered something
in his ear before dropping back down on the stretcher. “Okay, let’s go.”

The
officer in charge turned toward the others as his officers exited the room,
kneeling beside their fallen comrades. “I’m Chief Inspector Riva. Who is Agent
Reading?”

Reading
stepped forward. “I am.”

“Good, a
fellow law enforcement officer. What happened here?”

Reading
gave him a quick summary of the events.

“And
they took the portrait?”

“Yes.”

“And you
have no idea who?”

Reading
shook his head. “None.”

“Nothing
was said that might give us a clue where to start?”

“No.”

Acton
hid his surprise, the reference to Führer certainly enough to give the police a
starting point. Reading wasn’t cooperating, which was completely out of
character for him. Which meant Giasson must have whispered something to him
that had him doubting whether or not this man could be trusted.

 “That’s
unfortunate.” He slapped the side of his leg, shaking his head. “Well, I’ll
need statements from all of you, of course, but then you’re free to return
home.”

Reading
nodded. “Of course.”

“Just as
soon as we know Mario is okay,” said Laura, her voice conveying the fact she
was going nowhere unless she decided it was time.

The man
didn’t hide his displeasure very well.

“Of
course.”