Reginald Cook - The Hammer of God

When he whispered, “Is that appropriate?” she leaned into his ear, and said, “ They’re nuns and priests, not me.” Father Kong started the meeting with a report that nothing had changed at the castle during the night, except for a new set of armed guards who replaced the others.

“It’s been forty-eight hours,” said Robert, finishing his cup of coffee.

“I don’t want to wait much longer. They could move Samuel at any time.

We need to make preparations to get him, now.”

“We understand,” answered Bishop Ruini. “We want to rescue him too, but caution is our ally. Our plan must be foolproof.”

“He’s right,” added Father Kong. “Remember, they’re armed. We want to avoid loss of life.”

“Then what do you propose?’ asked Thorne.

“We might be able to snatch him when they bring him outside,” said Sister Isabella. “We know they let him out for an hour each evening. An assault from the tall grass might work.” Robert was happy to hear someone had a real plan of action. He was beginning to worry that they might never move forward. “Sounds good,” he agreed. “We can catch them off-guard and keep casualties to a minimum.” The room fell quiet.

“It’s quite possible,” Father Kong finally said. “They usually bring him out late, so if we strike while it’s dark, just before they take his back inside, we’ll increase our chances tenfold.”

“So, when do make our move?” Robert asked.

“I figure a week, maybe ten days,” answered Father Kong.

“A week!” Robert exclaimed, jumping to his feet. “Anything could happen to Samuel in a week. We could be spotted and blow the whole operation. That’s unacceptable!”

“I have to agree,” added Thorne calmly. “Why so long?”

“We’ll probably only get one good chance to grab the boy. I want to make sure nothing is left to chance,” said Father Kong.

“Thorne and I are pros at this. We know what we’re doing. So let’s not waste time and get a plan down on paper. Or we’ll go without you,” said Robert.

“That wouldn’t be wise,” said Bishop Ruini. “You need us. You’re up against more than you know.”

“I beg your pardon, Bishop, we’ve been places and done things you’ll never be able imagine. So don’t tell me what we’re up against,” said Robert.

Again, the room fell silent. Thorne pulled Robert back down to the couch. “Certainly we can come up with a workable plan in the next few days,” she said.

“These are dark forces,” said Father Kong, in a hushed, reverent voice. “Much thought and prayer must be laid before we step into such a spiritual battle. The Order believes they have the Anti-Christ, which means they’ll do whatever they can to keep Samuel, and kill anyone who gets in the way.”

“Forgive me, Father, but I don’t give a damn if they bring the Devil himself. If I have to reach down in hell to get Samuel back, then so be it,” said Robert.

“You may very well have to do that, Mr. Veil. And trust us, you’ll need every prayer possible,” said Father Kong.

A car pulled up outside, and minutes later, Cardinal Maximilian, flanked by two large men Robert had never met, entered, kissed each member of Il Martello di Dio on both cheeks, shook Robert and Thorne’s hands, and sat down in the larger recliner in front of them.

Father Kong caught him up on their conversation. While he did, Robert saw the cardinal give Thorne’s outfit the once over. He looked her in the eye, shook his head and smiled. Thorne nodded, but wore nervousness in her eyes Robert rarely saw. She had told him that she respected the cardinal, and the fact that he knew their secret and had kept it in confidence. Robert agreed. Cardinal Maximilian was a man of great integrity and resource. One of the few men in such a high position that he himself admired. He’d found that typically men of such stature only cared about themselves.

“We’ll discuss a plan of action later,” the cardinal finally said. “But first, let me bring you up to date on what I’ve learned.” Sister Isabella adjourned to the kitchen, came back with a tall glass of orange juice and handed it to the cardinal. He thanked her and downed half the glass.

“There was a shooting in Father Tolbert’s room a few days ago,” Cardinal Maximilian told them. “One of my associates hid inside a broom closet when he heard the shot, and saw Cardinal Polletto, Father Tolbert and Father Ortega leave not long after the gunfire. Father Ortega came back later and cleaned up the mess. Father Tolbert hasn’t been seen since. Cardinal Polletto called in to the Vatican Archives, and told them he needed the priest for a special assignment, and hasn’t been seen himself since.”

Robert leaned forward. “So, then Cardinal Polletto is involved with The Order.”

Cardinal Maximilian took a deep breath. “Yes, I’m afraid he is very much involved. I wasn’t one hundred percent sure until today.” Robert clinched his fists and took a cleansing breath of his own. “So, what do you think this means?”

“I’m not sure,” answered the cardinal. “Father Tolbert may be having a breakdown. The combination of his sins against children, and the pressure of working under Cardinal Polletto may be getting to him.

Your conscious can sometimes punish you better than man.” Not if I get my hands on him, thought Robert. “If they’re back on their heels, then this may be the time to strike, while their minds are elsewhere,” he said.

Cardinal Maximilian looked around the room at his people, then let his eyes fall on Robert and Thorne. “We need to wait until Cardinal Polletto makes his move.”

“What move?” snapped Thorne. “Kill the boy?”

“No doubt Cardinal Polletto will try and verify if Samuel is the Anti-Christ. The Order will perform a ritual, a sacrifice to Asmodeus, in an attempt to find out if the boy is legitimately from the Dark One.”

“What kind of ritual?” asked Robert, his temper barely under control.

“We’re not sure,” Cardinal Maximilian responded sympathetically, noticing Robert’s anger. “Nobody outside of The Order has ever witnessed the ritual, but every member will be there. It’s a chance to set them back centuries.”

“I understand you have a cause to pursue,” said Robert, impatiently.

“But Samuel isn’t bait, and I won’t let you put his life at risk.”

“We’re all putting our lives at risk,” said the cardinal, in an even softer tone. “There’s more at stake here than you know.”

“I know my godson is not the Anti-Christ,” Robert growled. “So let’s get him out of there, or I will.”

“If you try and go it alone, I’ll have your Visa revoked. You’ll be shipped out of Rome immediately, and we’ll take up the rescue without you.”

Robert’s muscles tensed. He pounded his fist down on the coffee table, shattering his cup. “I just want to get him out of there,” he snapped.

“You mean, get them out of there,” answered the cardinal.

“Them?” asked Thorne, sliding to the edge of the couch.

“Yes,” said Cardinal Maximilian, looking around at the curious faces of his own people. “There are two additional children at risk.” Robert sat up straight. “Two more? How? When?”

“Apparently, Samuel has two brothers. They’re triplets.” Everyone sat stunned. An audible gasp squeezed out from between Sister Isabella’s lips. Even the unshakable Father Kong had to lean up against the wall for support.

Robert looked around the room, his eyes settling on the cardinal.

“How do you know this?” he asked, stunned.

“How I know is of little importance. How we handle this matters greatly.”

“Are you sure, Your Eminence?” Sister Isabella asked, her hands together as if in prayer.