Saint Peter's Soldiers (A James Acton Thriller, Book #14) (39 page)

Acton
nodded, looking back at her. “This ends here, one way or the other.”

She
pursed her lips, nodding. “Okay. Be careful.”

Reading
opened his door and climbed out as Acton did. Acton looked at him, about to
tell him to get back inside, when Reading gave him a look. “Don’t even think
about it.”

Acton
nodded, walking over to the two men.

“Professor
James Acton?”

He
nodded.

The man,
his face cloaked by the hood of his robe, pointed to their prisoner. “He is
yours to do with as you please.” He turned to walk away when Acton held out his
hand.

“Wait!
Who are you?”

The man
turned back to face him then reached up, opening his robe at the top, revealing
some of the tattoo Acton had come to know far too well.

“Why are
you helping us?”

The man
shook his head. “Everything will be explained later.”

He
turned and walked farther down the hill with the other, the blonde man on his
knees, looking up at them.

“We meet
again.”

The man
smiled slightly, then pushed himself to his feet. “Yes, Professor, but you have
signed your own death warrant. The, shall we say, administrator, of the castle
has ordered your death.”

Acton
smiled. “And you, of course, will convince him otherwise.”

The man
smiled broadly, as if amused at Acton’s statement. “And why should I do this?”

This was
his chance, probably his one chance, to put an end to this. His one piece of
knowledge was now useless. He had to convince this man of that so he could
convince his superiors.

There
was no option for failure.

“You
know why. You’ve seen what I’ve been able to do. Do you think those who helped
me will ever stop if you harm me? You brought this on yourselves when you
messed with my family and friends. You wanted to ensure my silence, now you
have it. I know
nothing
about you. I have no idea who you are or what
you were doing. All I know is that the one piece of information I had, your
location, is no longer of importance. My contacts have flooded the Internet and
news channels with footage of this castle and what happened here today. Before
the day is out, everyone in the civilized world will know the town of Angera
and what happened here today.” He stepped closer to the man, staring in his
eyes. “You
know
you can never return, therefore I have no leverage over
you.”

He
stepped back, pointing up the hill toward the castle, partially visible, dust
still rising into the sky. “You’ve seen the resources at my disposal. Should
anything happen to me or anyone I care about, they
will
find you, they
will
kill you, and they
will
expose any secrets you may have.” Acton
pointed a finger at the man’s chest. “Do we have an understanding?”

The man
simply stared at him, his face emotionless, before he finally spoke. “I will
take your message to our leader.”

“Good.”
Acton pointed at their car, Verde and Laura now standing beside it. “Take it
and go.”

The
blonde man nodded, wasting no time in getting in the car and driving away.
Acton stepped to the side of the road, the cars that had been stopped moving
again. Laura took his arm. “Do you think it’s over?”

Acton
shrugged.

“Is it
ever?”

Santa Maria delle Concezione de Cappuccini Church, Rome, Italy

Giasson stepped out of the car, Chief Inspector Riva having driven.
It hadn’t taken long to get here, the drive uneventful, though he had to admit
he felt exposed. Now that he knew who the traitor was, he still didn’t know the
extent of the damage, or how far the infiltration into the Church went.

His
longtime friend and confidante, Boileau, sat in the backseat, defeated, saying
nothing beyond muttered apologies since they had left for the meeting.

And now
they were here, and Giasson wasn’t even certain why he had wanted the meeting.
What did he hope to accomplish? If the Keepers were truly a two thousand year
old organization, what could he possibly hope to do? Ask them to disband? Ask
them to leave the Church alone?

Foolish
notions.

But he
did have questions.

Important
questions.

He had
received word of what had happened in Angera and he was hopeful that the
current crisis might be over, but only for Acton and his family.

Not for
him.

He had
to protect the Church.

So he
had to know what he was facing.

He
turned to Riva, then nodded at Boileau. “Stay with him.”

“Are you
sure?”

Giasson
nodded, anything but. “I’ll be okay.”

He
headed into the church, it small by the standards of which he had become
accustomed, but was surprised to find it completely empty inside. He spotted
the confessional and briskly walked toward it as instructed, his shoulder
throbbing with his foolishness. Pushing the curtain aside, he took a seat, the screen
immediately sliding open, the lattice preventing him from seeing anything on
the other side.

“Inspector
General Giasson, it is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Giasson
frowned. “You know who I am, who are you?”

“Who I
am is no concern of yours. Just know that we are not enemies. We exist to
protect the Church, as you do.”

Giasson
grunted. “You kidnapped a Pope and tried to kill him.”

“A false
Pope, as you are well aware.”

“In your
opinion.”

“Yes, in
our opinion, however that is irrelevant now. Just know that we are always
watching, always ready to assist should you need us.”

Giasson
shook his head at the gall this man was displaying. “I don’t see myself ever
taking you up on that offer.”

“Indeed.
I too hope it never becomes necessary as well, however should you need our
help, simply ask Brother Gerard.”

Giasson
wasn’t sure the man had understood his point. “Monsieur Boileau won’t be
working at the Vatican before the day is out.”

“Is that
a wise choice? He is a good man, and until today, a good friend to you. His
loyalty is as yours is, to the Church. He never betrayed that trust. You cannot
blame him for the actions of others.”

And now
was Giasson’s opportunity hopefully to get an answer to the question that all
of them had been dying to know. “Who were these others?”

“Nazis.”

Giasson’s
eyebrows popped, though he wasn’t sure he was actually surprised. “Nazis?”

“Yes.
They call themselves the Congress. They were created at the end of the Second
World War, their mission to create the Fourth Reich.”

Giasson
shook his head. “Ridiculous.”

“Don’t
be so quick to dismiss their plans. They were able to influence several members
of our order to betray their oath and help them in retrieving several religious
artifacts.”

“For
what purpose?”

“Those
that betrayed us believe the chaos in the world today can only be solved by
ironfisted rule, and when they learned of the existence of the Congress, they
reached out to them, believing that the Fourth Reich is the best way to achieve
peace. The one I interrogated just this morning told me he felt that only a
modern group of Europeans, willing to exterminate entire races and religions,
could bring order, and eventually peace.”

“That’s
madness!”

“Indeed.
Unfortunately, frustration runs deep in our order, the leaders of Christian
nations too often apologists for the enemies of the Church. The Congress
offered an alliance to our members, promising to give the Roman Catholic Church
exclusive dominion over men’s souls in the new Fourth Reich.”

“I would
think that would go against the very teachings of the Church.”

“Of
course it does. Unlike one religion one cannot name without being labelled,
Christianity has no imperative to rule the world, despite what some of our
believers may have preached centuries ago. We simply want to live in peace, and
guide those who choose to believe as we do.” There was a sigh from the other
side of the screen. “Unfortunately, several of our order disagree.”

Giasson
winced as a jolt of pain raced up his shoulder and into his chest. “And how
does this Congress hope to achieve their goals?”

“Using
modern medicine, they intend to perfect the genome, to create a true Master Race,
then clone an army that will conquer the world.”

Giasson
laughed. “Ridiculous.”

“Actually,
not at all. The cloning can be done today, and with recent breakthroughs,
modifying the actual genome is now possible.”

“Really?”

There
was a chuckle from the other side. “Inspector General, you must lift your nose
from your security reports sometimes, and see what is going on in the world
around you.”

Giasson
closed his eyes, nodding slightly. His job was so all consuming he was
continually reading threat assessments and the bad news of the day, rather than
things like medical breakthroughs that could truly affect the world. “Perhaps I
should.” He twigged on something. “When the portrait was stolen, the man said
that it was the property of the Führer. What did he mean?”

“Ahh,
that is the most fantastic part of their plan. They have DNA from Hitler
himself, carefully preserved. They intend to clone him when the science is
perfected.”

“What
good would that do?”

“I’m not
finished. They then intend to use the religious artifacts they’ve been
gathering for almost a century, to bring back his soul to occupy the clone,
thus restoring him to life.”

Giasson
shook his head, laughing. “That is
absolutely
ridiculous.”

“I
agree, but never doubt someone’s capacity to believe when they have faith. The
technology exists for them to accomplish at least part of their task. Do I
believe for one second that they might achieve what they hope to accomplish in
bringing the greatest butcher ever known to man back to life?” A sigh. “I fear I
do, for it would truly be the work of Satan, and I and my order have seen
enough over our two millennia to know that evil does exist in this world.”

Giasson
chewed his cheek, contemplating the man’s words. “I of course believe in evil,
but I also believe in good, and I cannot believe that God would allow such an
abomination to take place.”

“I too
pray that he wouldn’t. However, would it matter? Imagine, should they clone him
successfully, and teach him everything he needed to know to pass himself off as
the reincarnation of Hitler, would it be enough to rally a group of people,
with a genetically superior clone army at their side, to take back what they
think they have lost, then ensure it is never lost again? What would happen
should such a man come to power again, especially when facing weak-willed nations?
There was a final solution before. Imagine one that extends far beyond just the
Jewish people. Their goal would be the purification of Europe, then the world.
Something that must not be allowed to happen.”

Giasson’s
mind was reeling as he listened to the man in the shadows. He knew enough to
know that cloning and genetic manipulation was happening, and that everything
except for the ridiculous notion of reincarnation was possible. And the man was
right. There had been false prophets before, and should a man arrive who looked
and sounded and acted like the leader you were expecting to return, he could
indeed see him quickly gaining followers.

Hitler
had been democratically elected, a fact that so many had forgotten, and it was
in a Germany and a world beset by the Great Depression, where people were
desperate, their way of life being destroyed. With economies struggling around
the world, Western nations being flooded with refugees and immigrants who
shared nothing in common with them, could another collapse be far away?

And if
it were to pass, could a man rise once again from the ashes, offering a
solution to their problems that today they may find abhorrent, but tomorrow the
only terrible answer?

“How can
we stop them?”

“For the
moment, we can’t. We have stopped their infiltration into our order for now,
but it may happen again. All we can hope is that when the time comes, for it
will come, that humanity has learned enough to know that hatred and prejudice
is not the way to resolve our differences. I fear, however, that a price will
be paid, a heavy price, before the coming war is finally won. I trust, sir,
that you will be on our side should the time come.”

Giasson
merely nodded, not sure of what to say, the entire notion terrifyingly
outlandish. Then he thought of what was happening in the Middle East today, a
massive swath of territory cut out of it by religious zealots, slaughtering
people by the thousands, systematically raping women and little girls, while
millions in the West condemned the military attempts to stop them. It made no
sense to him, and reminded him of his history. What would have happened if the
world had stood idly by and let Hitler have his way? Could he have ever been
stopped?