Reginald Cook - The Hammer of God

R obert, Thorne and Sister Isabella observed Torre Astura castle from a heavily wooded area two hundred and fifty yards away. Late in the evening, a light mist eased across the water around the castle, and a crisp breeze rattled the trees and brush.

Robert, on his stomach between the two women, adjusted his binoculars and closely examined the castle structure and the area around it. Torre Astura was a much smaller version of the medieval edifices Robert toured in other European cities and towns, including the magnificent German castles along the Rhine. Although the sandstone building he now scanned up and down, was no less an unapproachable fortress. A tall tower, about five stories high, stood like a giant in the middle of the castle, with no windows facing the woods.

Robert counted five small windows along the front of the castle, which was two and a half stories high, with one large wooden door at the entrance. A large courtyard, about fifty square yards, sat in front of the building, all separated by a narrow stone bridge about fifteen hundred feet long.

In front of the courtyard, a much smaller two story stone building sat in between the woods and the castle, fifty yards away. A dirt road, the only entrance and exit by land, ran along the woods and curved toward the castle. On the left side of the road was a small reef of jagged rocks and open water; on the other side high grass and brush.

“We know several of The Order’s people are holed up inside,” whispered Sister Isabella. “But there’s been no sign of Samuel at all.”

“They’re keeping him deep undercover,” said Robert. “But it’s so secluded out here, you’d think they’d at least let him out for air.”

“Or maybe he’s not here at all,” said Thorne.

Robert didn’t answer. He wanted very much to believe Samuel was only two hundred fifty yards away, and dismissed any other notion or thought. His heart quickened when he saw the castle front door swing open.

Two priests walked outside and lit up cigarettes. After a few moments, a nun, with one of the most alluring faces Robert had ever seen, joined the two and lit up a smoke of her own. Robert examined each face, watching as they talked and laughed, offering no hint of the evil Cardinal Maximilian spoke of. Instead, they seemed quite normal, a trio like those he’d observed a thousand times in more than a few places around the world. However, Robert didn’t dismiss the cardinal’s words of warning. He’d seen childlike pleading turn on a dime, becoming dark and lecherous, menacing and deadly. If they truly held Samuel in the fortress, he’d treat them like the worst criminals he’d ever known, and if needed, he’d kill every one of them.

“I’m going to move a little closer,” said Thorne. “See if there’s another way inside.”

“I’ll go with you,” shot Robert.

“No,” said Thorne gently. “Wait here and see if you can spot Samuel. You have a better angle and view from here.” Sister Isabella agreed. Robert gritted his teeth and stared his partner in the eye. “Alright,” he finally conceded, “I’ll continue to look from here.”

Thorne blew him a kiss.

The three of them were draped head to toe in army camouflage fatigues that mixed in with the greenery, beige dirt and foliage around the castle. The mist just off the lake had grown thick and was almost on shore. Soon, their visibility would be next to nothing, and they’d be done for the night.

Thorne slithered toward the bush, moving herself forward on her elbows and knees. Robert monitored her movement, while Sister Isabella kept an eye on the three clerics still smoking and in deep conversation.

Just as Thorne hit the bushes, Robert heard the low rev of multiple car engines coming their way. He looked toward Thorne, who now faced him. She signaled that she heard it too and disappeared into the tall grass.

Robert and Sister Isabella followed suit, and backed further into the dense woods until they were sure it was impossible to see them from the road. The car engines grew louder. Soon, a dark green Audi, and a black, late modeled Mercedes zoomed by and headed toward the castle.

Robert and Sister Isabella resumed their position. There was no sign of Thorne.

The cars drove across the bridge and stopped directly in front of the castle. Four men exited the Audi toting machine guns. An old man, accompanied by a beautiful woman who reminded Robert of Sophia Loren in her heyday, stepped out of the Mercedes and hugged the priests and nun like they were old friends. A single flash of light coming from the brush caught Robert’s attention. He honed in on it with his binoculars, got the thumbs up from Thorne, and turned his attention back to the castle.

Robert watched as the old man and nun did most of the talking. The sun was almost down, and the mist had finally reached shore. Like eerie long fingers, it wrapped around the castle, seeped into the grass, and floated across the courtyard like in a Dracula movie. The old man kissed the nun, who turned and hugged the Sophia Loren lookalike, then they both climbed back in the Mercedes and drove off. This time, Robert and Sister Isabella didn’t back up as far, wanting to get a look inside the car.

The Mercedes drove by them at a much slower pace. The nun and priests went back inside the castle.

“I recognized the old man and his daughter,” said Sister Isabella.

“Rinaldo and Dianora Calabrese, they’re mafia.” Robert watched as two of the four men they left behind took up positions in front of the castle. The other two slid back inside the Audi.

“I’m going out there with Thorne,” said Robert.

“It’s not safe to move right now. They have extra eyes. You might be seen,” said Sister Isabella.

Robert ignored her and quickly crawled toward the grass. Just as he reached it, he ran into Thorne, who was on her way back.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” she asked.

“It’s getting dark,” he whispered. “I want one last look.” Thorne rolled her eyes and kept moving. Aided by the wind and mist, Robert continued through the grass, stopping just a few feet from the dirt road. The front door of the castle opened. The two armed guards carefully panned their eyes across the area. The two priests came back outside, but neither were laughing or talking as they had been earlier.

The nun followed them outside. Robert’s eyes focused. She was holding the hand of a little boy. Samuel!

Robert’s first instinct was to charge out blazing, but a cooler head prevailed. If I miss, they might kill him. He wondered if Thorne and Sister Isabella could see the activity that was taking place. The sun was now completely set, and the entire area blanketed in fog. The nun placed Samuel in the backseat of the Audi, and the priests slid in on each side of him.

The nun went back inside the castle as the car drove across the courtyard and parked halfway. As quickly as he could without being seen, Robert crawled toward them, staying low, grateful for the extra protection provided by the thickening fog. He stopped five feet from the edge of the grass, raised his head slightly, and saw Samuel, his face dreary and sad, walking around the courtyard, his hands in a blue windbreaker that didn’t look like it was enough to keep him warm.

Robert wanted to cry out, reach out, but the two gunmen stuck close to Samuel’s side, watching his every move. The two priests watched him closely too, but stayed next to the car and smoked.

The area was now completely dark. Robert moved in for a closer look, stopping just at the edge of the brush. One of the priests turned on the Audi’s headlights, which sent him scrambling backwards. Samuel continued to pace back and forth, kicking rocks, stretching, but not doing much more.