Reginald Cook - The Hammer of God

The four of them went inside the castle to help the others search for clues. Robert went upstairs to search the bedroom. The room was plain, and reminded him of a medieval jail cell. The trashcan was filled with soda cans, potato chip bags and half eaten fruit. Robert turned over the mattress. Wedged in between the box springs he pulled out a piece of folded newspaper. It was the front page of the Chicago Tribune, showing a distraught Alison Napier walking behind Donovan’s casket. A smile crept across Robert’s face. He’s still alive.

Screaming voices brought Robert out of his momentary bliss. He ran downstairs where Thorne met him.

“We have to get out!” she screamed. “The place is rigged with explosives!”

“Can we diffuse it?” he asked.

“No, I tried, it’s too late!”

Everybody ran out of the castle and sprinted across the compound.

They reached a safe distance near the woods, and turned. Nothing.

“I didn’t see a timer,” said Thorne. “It could go at anytime.”

“We’ll get to the city and notify the police anonymously,” said Father Kong, breathing hard.

They loaded the bodies in the trunks, piled in the cars and headed down the road. Sister Isabella’s cell phone rang. She put her head in her hands and cried out. “We’ll be there right away,” she said, hanging up.

She faced Father Kong. “It’s Cardinal Maximilian, he’s been stabbed.

It’s a heart wound. He’s in surgery at Salvador Mundi International Hospital. It doesn’t look good.”

Robert collapsed back into the car seat. Thorne’s face twisted with anger. A massive explosion detonated behind them. Austra Torre castle was no more.

F ather Kong slashed through the dark back roads of Italy like a seasoned pro. The car engine growled a warning to those ahead. Get out of the way. Nobody spoke as the car rumbled over dirt roads and asphalt.

Thirty minutes after the Astura Torre castle exploded, they roared into the bustling streets of Rome. Both cars reached the front of Salvador Mundi International Hospital, a six-story, tan brick building, crowded with reporters, Vatican clergy, the prayerful, and the curious.

Father Kong parked across the street, made a u-turn and eased through the driveway to the back of the main building. He ordered his people to wait in the car, while he, Robert, Thorne and Sister Isabella hurried to the fifth floor ICU ward, where a group of Vatican leaders, including Bishop Ruini, were gathered, some deep in discussion, others in prayer. The bishop spotted the four and motioned for them to follow him to an empty private room.

“The cardinal has a deep chest wound,” Bishop Ruini told them, closing the door. “The knife plunged into his chest and nicked his heart.

He lost a lot of blood, so it’s touch and go.”

“How did it happen? Who did it?” asked Father Kong, anxiousness in his voice.

Bishop Ruini placed his hands behind his back, walked to the window, and stared down at the crowd below. “We’d just left a meeting in the Sistine Chapel. The cardinal spent the evening entertaining a group of English businesspeople, and we were on our way to see the Holy Father. Two men, both Italian, were waiting in the shadows outside.” The bishop turned to face them. “They stabbed our guard in the neck. I fought one of them and the cardinal took the other. I sustained cuts and bruises to my hands and arms.” He showed them his bandaged hands.

“The cardinal hurt the other man badly, and, forgive me, but I think he broke the bastard’s arm. When the two ran away, I looked over and the cardinal was flat on his back, the knife protruding from his chest. I called out for the Swiss Guard, but by the time they reached us, the two men had sped away in a waiting car.”

“Sounds like a hit,” said Thorne. “But kind of sloppy. They could’ve just shot him.”

“Yes, but that would’ve attracted too much attention outdoors,” said Sister Isabella. “The Swiss Guard would’ve shut the place down.” Bishop Ruini lowered his head and cried. Tears filled the eyes of Father Kong and Sister Isabella.

“It happened so fast,” stuttered the bishop. “I didn’t see it coming.”

“It’s not your fault,” said Thorne. “None of us would’ve seen it coming inside the Vatican. But we don’t have time to feel sorry for ourselves, we have to plan our next move.” Sister Isabella wiped her face. “Thorne’s right. Everything that’s happened tonight signals a shift. The Order’s making their final move.” Father Kong’s phone rang. The conversation was short. “We found the van. It’s empty, but our people are giving it a thorough examination for fingerprints and clues,” he told them.

Bishop Ruini walked over to Robert and stared him in the eye. “The cardinal asked me to tell you that you’re the heart of this effort now. He wants you to lead us the rest of the way. To find the boys, and stop The Order.”

Robert opened his mouth but the words wouldn’t come. The expressions on Father Kong and Sister Isabella’s faces said, we’ll follow you into hell.

“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea,” answered Robert. “You’re trying to save the world, I just want my godson back.”

“The two may be the same thing,” said Father Kong.

“I’m not one of you. I’m not a believer,” said Robert.

“The cardinal senses something in you, and I agree,” said Sister Isabella. “This is a major turn for the world, and whether you like it or not, you’re God’s man for this moment in time.” Robert felt a strong presence ease up beside him. It was Thorne. “We don’t have to believe what they do, Robert, but let’s do it, get our boy and get out of here,” she said.

Robert scanned their faces. “Okay, let’s do it. Bishop, stay here and keep us updated on the cardinal’s condition.” The bishop nodded and left the room. “Father Kong, I need you to supervise the examination of the van, and fill us in as soon as you find something. Ask around the area where the van was dumped, and see if you can dig up a witness. If they moved the kids, maybe somebody saw them.” Robert walked over to Sister Isabella, who still looked a little shaken, struggling to hold back tears. “Come on now, Sister, we need you on top of your game,” he said, smiling.

Sister Isabella smiled back. “I’m ready,” she said.

“Good, I need you to run the pictures of the two men we killed down at the castle. If you get a hit, let us know who they work for right away.” Sister Isabella nodded.

Robert’s cell phone rang. It was Alison Napier, near hysterical. “I saw the news report about the castle at Astura Torre. They said it was destroyed by a bomb blast. Is Samuel okay?”

“Samuel’s safe,” he told her. “They moved him before blowing up the place.” Robert reassured Alison then hung up. “Okay, let’s go to it.” The four of them left the room and headed for the elevators. “Thorne and I are going to check on Alison Napier,” said Robert. “We’ll meet you back at the villa in ninety minutes.”

Bishop Ruini rushed over as they boarded the elevator. “Cardinal Maximilian went into cardiac arrest,” he gasped, out of breath. “The surgery was a success, but he’s in a coma.” The elevator doors closed. Robert kicked the wall hard. When they reached the bottom floor, he and Thorne went back to the cars to retrieve their weapons. Sister Isabella and Father Kong gave them both hugs.

“God be with both of you,” said Father Kong. “We’ll be praying.” Thorne racked a shell in the Mosberg and smiled. “Amen.”

F ather Tolbert, hands in his pockets, blended in with the crowd in front of the hospital, listening carefully for any bit of useful information.