John Lyman - The Secret Chapel

Morelli sipped his wine as he looked up at the security chief. “What’s going on, Francois?”

“Emilio has escaped our surveillance, and we don’t know where he and some of his friends are now.”

Leo and the others had completely forgotten about the evil little priest who grabbed the backpack in the tunnel while he was conspiring to have them all killed before they could reach the chapel.

Francois placed his hands on the back of an empty chair and looked around the table. “Until we have them in custody, I think it would be wise for all of you to leave Rome as soon as possible until we round them all up.”

Leo looked down and smoothed the white tablecloth with his free hand. “Who are these people, Francois, and why would they still be interested in us?”

Morelli noticed Francois nervously eyeing the group. “Go ahead, Francois, you can tell them what we know about Emilio. They are certainly a part of all this now.”

Francois relaxed slightly before speaking. “In short, gentlemen, Emilio and his followers are the evil ones we’ve been watching for some time.”

“What exactly do you mean by the term evil ones ?” Alon asked. “I mean … are they some kind of demonically possessed beings or something?”

“No, my friend, they’re quite human. We’ve known for some time that the Church has been infiltrated by those who worship Satan instead of God. They’ve caused great harm to the Catholic Church. We’ve been gathering intelligence on them in an effort to see just how deeply they’re embedded and who their leaders are.”

“Are these the same people who’ve been working so hard to discredit the clergy in an effort to bring down the Church?” Leo asked.

Francois shook his head in agreement. “Exactly. We believe they were also tasked with obtaining the Devil’s Bible and handing it over to the Antichrist when he makes his appearance as foretold in Revelation. They are his earthly soldiers and are committed to furthering his rise to power. We think they still believe you have the book and will stop at nothing until they have it in their possession. I’m afraid that, until they’ve been captured, you are all still in danger.”

Ariella lifted her head from John’s shoulder. “But the book burned to ashes on the altar in the chapel.”

“We don’t know for sure if they realize that yet, Miss. Emilio escaped, but we captured one of the men who was with him when he tried to flee the catacombs. Apparently, Emilio believes the book still exists. When he found that the backpack he grabbed from John was empty, he thought you were all making a trial run without it to see if you would be stopped. He thinks the book is in a different location with another member of your group and has gathered his men to search for it. The safest thing for now is to let me have some of my men drive all of you to your yacht so you can leave the country until we have them in custody.”

Alon rolled his eyes at Francois. “These guys are all over the place. They aren’t just here in Rome. They were spying on us at the villa in Israel, and they shot at us on the highway when we were driving to the harbor at Caesarea.”

“That’s why the safest place you can be right now is out at sea on your yacht. We’ve also been in contact with an Israeli warship off the coast in international waters ready to escort your boat back to Israel.”

Alon stared at Francois with a newfound respect. The real Swiss security men really knew their stuff.

While they were still talking, a large black SUV pulled up alongside their table in the piazza, causing Alon to move his hand toward the gun under his shirt. Francois’s policeman’s mind immediately read his body language and quickly assured the group that the vehicle contained some of his men who would be transporting them to the yacht.

John stroked Ariella’s hair before sitting up in his chair. “So much for a quiet drink and dinner.” The exhausted group nodded their understanding and slowly rose from the table. John approached the SUV with Ariella and looked back at the others with a playful grin. “We call shotgun.” Opening the front passenger door, he realized that the man already sitting there actually had a shotgun and was glaring back at him. John quickly gave him a sheepish look and closed the door.

Leo and the others piled into the SUV and looked out at Morelli, who was standing by the table as if he was the last one to be picked to play a game of kickball. “Aren’t you coming, Anthony?”

Morelli walked over and took Leo by the arm. “I’m afraid not, Leo. My place is here. I’ll be fine. Francois and his men are watching over all of us.”

Right on cue, a second black SUV pulled up behind the first. Morelli hesitated. “We’ll join up again after we get control of the situation. Besides, I need to go pick up my car.”

“You mean my car.” Leo was relentless. Morelli laughed knowing that this would be an ongoing thing for years to come. He grabbed a bottle of wine off the linen tablecloth and tossed the waiter some Euros before climbing into the backseat of the second SUV with Francois. Within minutes, the two vehicles were speeding off into the dark streets, one headed for the harbor, the other for the Vatican.

The SUV holding Leo’s group raced out from the city center toward the harbor on the Autostrada Roma Fiumicino . Everyone except for the security men leaned back in their seats and began to relax when Lev’s voice crackled over Alon’s radio.

“Alon, do you read me? What’s your location?”

“We’re on our way, Lev. We should be there in less than thirty minutes.”

“Change of plans. Right after we came onboard the yacht, a bunch of vehicles with guys in suits armed with guns drove up to the dock alongside the yacht. We’re pulling away from the dock and out into the harbor as we speak.”

Alon shouted to the driver of the SUV. “Are those your men?”

The driver appeared horrified. “We were trying to keep a low profile. They’re not ours.”

The SUV increased its speed. Alon wanted to take the battle to the men on the dock who were now menacing his friends on the yacht. “Call for backup. We can take those guys out. No problem.”

The driver was already on his cell phone, calling the headquarters of the Swiss Guard at Vatican City. He looked back over his shoulder at an agitated Alon. “Don’t worry, sir. We have a team on the way along with the carabinieri .” The carabinieri were the Italian military police distinguished by the bright red stripes running down the side of their trousers. They dealt with everything from major crime to speeding offenses.

Alon sat back in his seat, wishing he was more in control of the situation. He jumped as a frantic call blared into his earpiece. It was Daniel calling from Morelli’s house south of the city. “Alon, do you read me? We’re in trouble.” Alon quickly hit the speak button and answered. “What is it Daniel?”

A chilling reply came back to him. “We’re surrounded by Vatican security men with guns.”

Alon’s face took on a look of helpless panic as he yelled at the men in front. “Your men?”

“No, sir. We don’t have anyone at that location.”

From the backseat of the SUV, Alon glanced up and met the eyes of the driver in the mirror. He twirled his finger above his head as an indication to turn around and shouted for the driver to head south in the direction of Morelli’s estate in the country. Alon keyed the mike. “They’re not from the Vatican, Daniel. Stay put, and don’t do anything unless you have to. You and Sarah hide somewhere until we get there, and stay off the radio unless it’s an emergency.”