The Templar Concordat (47 page)

“Those times just can’t be counted. It was a lawless and chaotic period.” Agretti hated any mention of Formosus. It was a crutch for enemies of the Church.

“Then the Church is just something for the good times?” asked Gustuv.

Agretti said nothing.

The Pope gave a slight shake of his head as Gustuv prepared for the kill.

The Pope looked at each man. “Ok. We have a very real and practical problem with Papal infallibility from a thousand years ago. If Formosus’ ordinations were valid, then Stephen and Sergius are wrong. If Formosus’ ordinations are invalid, then Theodore and Formosus are wrong. If it’s a doctrine, then it better apply in all times and all places.”

The Pope got up and went to his hidden cooler. “Anyone want anything? Coke, Pepsi, water, beer?”

Agretti shook his head in disgust. The Pope didn’t act like a common waiter taking orders for drinks. It wasn’t right. He had to bite the insides of his mouth when Gustuv asked for a Coke and Cortese asked for water.

“Alberto?” asked the Pope.

“No thank you, Holiness.”

“Ok.” The Pope very carefully popped the top of his Coke can. “Let’s jump forward about three hundred years. 1189. Two Popes say God wants all Christians to eliminate Islam from the world.”

“Error has no rights,” said Agretti.

“I presume you mean Islam?” asked Gustuv. “Error might have no rights, but human beings do.”

“Like I said,” the Pope continued. “It’s 1189 and two Popes put out a bonehead document. Do we really say they are infallible? Really? The Holy Spirit made it impossible to err?”

“It has to be a forgery.” Agretti set his jaw and stared at the Pope. He couldn’t tell this Pope the treaty was real, taken from the Vatican Library, and said everything Hammid Al Dossary claimed.  Maybe some other Pope, but this one would march to the TV cameras and deny Papal Infallibility. Agretti couldn’t allow that.

“Well, after the performance of Popes Formosus, Stephen, Theodore, and Sergius?” The Pope held up his palms. “Why? Why can’t the treaty just be a stupid idea they cooked up that is rejected by every principle of decent men?”

“The Holy Spirit would make it impossible for them to create such a document.”

“Impossible? The Holy Spirit didn’t make it impossible for those guys in 897 to make a hash of things. Somebody had to be wrong.”

“Consider this,” said Gustuv.  “In 1870, the First Vatican Council knew about the Cadaver Synod, but they went ahead with Infallibility anyway. Suppose they also had this treaty handy, and suppose they thought it was authentic.  Would they have proclaimed Papal Infallibility? With both the Cadaver Synod and the Treaty of Tuscany staring them in the face, would they have done the same thing?”

 “Very good question, Bishop, very good. But, let’s get back to my original question,” said the Pope. “What if I actually do denounce the Infallibility Doctrine?”

Gustuv shrugged. “Not much. Half the Catholics don’t buy into it anyway. The other half… the ones who do believe it… will keep believing it anyway. They have already decided.”

Cortese cleared his throat. “There would be a lot of arguing, thousands of pages in journals, Protestants would dance for joy, and TV shows would feature talking heads for a few weeks. But face it, what would the advocates of Papal Infallibility says? The Pope is wrong? That doesn’t make sense. According to them, he can’t be wrong.”

“It would be tragic. Tragic.” Agretti clasped his shaking hands tightly together in front of him. “It would deny the sacred link between God and the Church. It would negate the purpose of the Church, and make a mockery of the sacrifice of Jesus for the salvation of all humanity. It would be the end of the Church. The end because we killed it.”

The other three just looked at Agretti. Nobody said a word.

The Pope cleared his throat and said, “Well, I suppose some future Pope could always dig me up, have a trial, and reverse it.”

Agretti glared at the Pope, but maintained his silence.

The Pope smiled. “Ok, gentlemen. Think on this. We’ll talk again.”

As they left, the Pope glanced at Carlos, looked toward Gustuv, and cocked his head. Carlos nodded and followed Gustuv out of the office. “Bishop Gustuv, let’s just wait here for a bit until the others are gone. The Pope wants to see you.”

The Pope rose when the bishop reentered the office. “Thank you, Bishop. I wanted a moment alone. I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything, Holiness.”

“The Vatican gets to send an observer to the meetings of this panel investigating the treaty. Not a panel member, just an observer. I’d like you to go.”

“Of course. I’d be honored.”

“And you play it straight.  We follow the facts and evidence. If there are any games to be played, we’ll play them from here. Your job is to be an honest observer and report back here.”

Dhahran - Thursday, May 14

Berrera drove the ATV north along the beach with Callahan and Eguardo hanging on the utility rack on the back. They all wore white thobes and red and white checked gutras like the Saudi kids who had been joy riding all day. It was past 11:00 pm and even the hardiest beachcombers had left for the day, but they took no chances.

They scanned the dunes, matching the terrain to the GPS units, and Berrera steered the ATV toward where the green dot on the GPS said the wadi entrance was.

Callahan and Eguardo jumped off the back of the AVT at the mouth of the wadi, then Berrera turned back south along the beach and west along the ridge line to a position where he had an unrestricted view of the villa’s south side.

They moved up the wadi, keeping their heads below ground level until it narrowed to about fifteen feet and five feet deep. The wadi ran along the east side of the villa, and they could clearly see it when they poked their heads up. Callahan scanned the area with his goggles, but saw no movement outside the walls or on the balconies. But he did notice every light was on and the perimeter lights covered everything for a hundred feet beyond the ten-foot walls.

The flaw in the external light system was their mounting on the walls and the roof pointed them away from the villa. That meant there was a dark shadow at the base of the walls.

When they reached the closest point to the southeast corner of the walls, they stopped and called Berrera.

“I’m in position,” said Berrera over their tiny earphones. Callahan hit few keys and a new green dot appeared where Berrera was. “All quiet. Nothing moving. Suggest you guys wait until we see some activity. They have to have someone on patrol.”

 “Ok. We’ll maintain position.”

They sat with their backs to the side of the wadi nearest the house in case someone might be using thermal detection equipment. Callahan moved a rock up on the edge of the wadi so he could look from behind it. He was nervous, but noticed Eguardo was the picture of serenity, alert and ready, but calm. Professional.  The Templars could use this guy, he thought. Maybe when this was over.

“Ok. Heads up. One guard coming around the southwest corner of the wall. Coming your way. Looks half asleep.” Callahan and Eguardo peeked around the rock and watched the guard sauntering along the wall, watching the ground in front of him rather than the dunes around him.

“Hey, Callahan,” Eguardo whispered, “look, that dumb-ass is fiddling with his iPod. Probably can’t hear a thing.” Callahan focused on the guard’s head and saw the tiny white wires coming from his earphones.

The guard continued toward them and turned the southeast corner less than thirty feet from them.

“Ok,” said Callahan, “let’s wait until he turns the next corner and can’t see us. Then we break for the shadow under the wall.”

“Got it.”

When the guard disappeared around the corner, Callahan whispered, “Berrera, how’s it look?”

“All clear. Go, Go, Go.”

Eguardo rolled over the top of the wadi, sprinted to the corner of the south wall, and flattened himself up against the foundation. “All clear,” came Eguardo’s whisper in Callahan’s earpiece.

“All clear,” said Berrera. “Go, Go, Go.” Callahan followed Eguardo’s path and both of them lay up against the wall. Callahan figured they had about two minutes before the guard came back around the southwest corner.

They crouched in the shadow and slid down the south wall to a point about twenty feet from the end. Callahan braced himself against the wall and Eguardo scrambled up his back to the top, then dangled an arm and Callahan climbed up and over Eguardo. Both dropped into the courtyard and froze.

Eguardo knelt and pulled out the rope with the small grappling hook. He had wrapped the metal in towels and then wrapped that in duct tape so it would make no sound when he threw it.

“Go to the house wall now, now, now! Go, Go, Go.” Berrera whispered urgently. No questions. No time for questions. Callahan and Eguardo raced to the wall.

“Drop and Die, Drop and Die,” said Berrera in their earpiece. They rolled face down against the wall of the house, willing themselves invisible. The wall ran straight up and met the railing around the second-story balcony. Shoes scuffed above them, and both knew they would have been spotted if Berrera hadn’t warned them. They heard his soft voice in their earpieces.

“Guard right above you. Smoking. Looking out, not down at you. Freeze.” The bright orange glow of a cigarette landed three feet in front of Callahan. A raspy cough, then retreating footsteps.

“Clear to go up. Go, Go, Go.”

Eguardo played out some rope, then swung the hook up and over the railing of the second story balcony. It made a dull thud on the metal railing, and they aimed their guns up in case anyone looked over the edge.

Eguardo tested the rope and scrambled up, walking up the wall and pulling with his hands. He slipped under the railing, pivoted, saw nothing, and motioned for Callahan to come up.

When Callahan rolled under the railing, he pulled the rope up while Eguardo took the hook off the railing.

“All clear… go for the door. Go, Go, Go.”

Callahan tried to move the full length sliding glass door to the right, but immediately saw it was blocked by an aluminum bar nestled in the floor track. That wasn’t good, but just like Anna had said. Eguardo was already attaching his suction cup to the glass on his side. Callahan deployed a second suction cup. Each slipped a sharpened pry bar into the lower track of the door and levered it up and off the small wheels that suspended it from the top rail. The suction cups kept it from falling in and shattering.

They stood up and stepped into the room, holding the glass in front of them. Then they removed the aluminum bar that prevented the door from sliding open, rehung the door from its upper wheels and slid it closed. Remarkably, it had worked just as they had practiced it on the door in Callahan’s apartment on the Aramco camp.

They were in a bedroom, just as Anna had described. The treaty room should be the third room down the hallway. Callahan listened at the door, eased it open, and glanced down the hallway. All clear. Eguardo had his lock picks out and glided out of the bedroom and down to the treaty room door.

Dhahran - Thursday, May 14

With all the music, shouting, laughter, and foot stomping from Hammid’s people it was hard to hear if anyone was approaching. Eguardo took over four minutes to pick the lock on the treaty room, way too long, and by the time he got it Callahan was on the verge of aborting the mission.

“I’m in. I’m in.” Eguardo carefully removed the tension tool from the lock so he could reinsert it and just turn the lock to the closed position when they left. He didn’t want to spend another four minutes picking it closed again.

He silently closed the door behind him and crouched down listening. Darkness. Silence. Nothing but the shouting from the party.  He lowered his night vision goggles, turned on the infrared, scanned the room, saw no windows, and no way for light to escape, so he flipped on the room lights. The only furniture in the room was a single table in the middle supporting a glass-topped display case.

“Clear to come on in, Callahan,” Eguardo whispered in his earpiece.

Callahan took a quick look out the bedroom door, then raced the two doors to the treaty room. He closed the door, slipped the optical cable under the door, and adjusted the small video screen until he had a clear picture of the hallway. “We have eyes on the hall. Did you find the treaty?”

“It’s sitting right here.” Eguardo lifted the glass top of the cabinet and removed a plastic case and laid it on the table top. “This sure looks like the pictures.”

“Well, you can look at it as well as I can. If it looks like the pictures, then that’s it. Let’s get it done and get out of here.” He moved the optical cable under the door from one direction to the other so he could see both approaches to the treaty room.

Eguardo opened the clasps on the plastic case, took the real treaty out, and slipped it between the pages of his TIME magazine. Then he took the forgery from its transparent envelope in the magazine and replaced it in the plastic case. He closed the clasps on the plastic, and carefully placed the forgery into Hammid’s larger display case.

He was closing the lid on the glass display case when Callahan said, “Heads up. Two guys approaching.” Callahan could see them clearly on the small video screen. Each carried an M16, but each also carried a drink, and from the way they moved, Callahan judged these drinks weren’t their first. He reached up and flipped off the room light and pulled the optical cable back.