John Lyman - The Secret Chapel

Leo leaned over the front seat and spoke to the driver. “Do you know where Father Morelli’s estate is?”

“Yes, sir. We do security sweeps of the property on a regular basis.”

“How far is it from where we are now?”

The driver thought for a second. “It’s about forty miles, Father. It will probably take about forty-five minutes to get there through this traffic and the narrow winding roads leading to the village.”

Forty-five minutes was an eternity . Daniel and Sarah were surrounded by men with guns. Leo knew what these people were capable of if they found them. His leonine nature was expressing itself as he began to take charge. “Alon, let me speak to Lev on the yacht.”

Alon immediately handed him the microphone.

Leo thought for a moment before he pushed the talk button. “Lev, come in. This is Leo.”

“Go ahead, Leo,” the reply came back. “We read you.”

“Are you in open waters now?”

Lev and Alex traded looks on the bridge. “We’re just passing the jetty into open water. What’s on your mind?”

“Did you hear the call for help from Daniel?”

“Yes. Are you en route to them?”

“We’re on the way, but it will take us some time to get there. It’s located next to a small village through twisting, narrow mountain roads.”

Lev looked back toward the harbor through the windows on the bridge. “I’ll give the Italian police a call, but I doubt they have anyone in that area. It looks like they got the ones who came after us at the dock. The whole area is lit up with blue flashing lights.”

Leo pressed his face against the side window of the speeding SUV, wondering what he could do. “Francois said there is an Israeli warship in the area. Can you give them a call?”

Lev instantly caught his meaning. “We understand, Leo. Give us the coordinates of Morelli’s house.” The Vatican security man in the front passenger seat overheard and immediately began retrieving data from their onboard GPS.

“Lev, are you ready for the numbers?”

“Go ahead. I’m ready.”

Leo began reading off the GPS coordinates of the country estate as the SUV left the city behind and began to encounter thinner traffic. Determined to cut their drive time in half, the driver pegged the speedometer at one hundred ten miles per hour as the lights of Rome faded in their rearview mirrors.

In the darkness of Morelli’s enormous house, Daniel and Sarah had taken refuge in the twelfth-century medieval tower. Sarah had seen the cars coming from the highway before they turned up the long tree-lined driveway and came to a stop in front of the house next to the fountain.

She had called Daniel on the radio, alerting him to rush to the room at the top of the tower where they had an unobstructed view of the surrounding countryside. They had wisely chosen it as the perfect place to fend off armed intruders. The only entrance to the room was the small wooden trapdoor located on the floor in a corner.

The caretakers had left for the day, and no one else was around except for the men in suits now scouring the grounds with flashlights. Several of the men had entered the house and were going through it room by room, while others had fanned out and were looking around outside the house. Their search was hampered by Daniel’s quick thinking. He had jammed a screwdriver into the main circuit breaker on his way to the tower and shorted out the ancient electrical system, throwing the palazzo-like residence into darkness.

Daniel grabbed his two radios and turned the volume down so as not to give away their position. Did these men even know they were here? If they weren’t sure, they would know in time when they found the sabotaged electrical system. Daniel and Sarah had two automatic pistols, an Uzi submachine gun, and a shotgun. Anyone coming up through the trapdoor was in for a surprise.

Sarah peeped through the medieval slit in the thick wall. She had counted four small cars holding four men each. Sixteen against two. What did they want? She saw a short priest in the glare of one of the car’s headlights as he stood in the circular driveway. He seemed to be giving orders to the other men as they spread out across the property. Within minutes, the search reached the bottom of the stairwell in the tower.

Sarah felt strangely disassociated from the scene below them. She had taken time off that afternoon and walked through the abandoned medieval village that had been turned into gardens by the Caetani family in 1921. The stone ruins were covered in vines and surrounded by lush vegetation and hundreds of flowers. A shallow, wide stream filled with slowly moving mountain water flowed through the remains of the village, and the rocks on the bottom were covered with moss, giving the crystal clear water a green background.

Sarah had wandered among the ruins and daydreamed as she sat by the stream, where she removed her shoes and dangled her feet in the cool water. This was truly a magical place, and images of living here forever had become imprinted in her mind.

The sound of voices below them shook her back to the reality of their situation. They could clearly hear the footsteps and low voices of men below moving upward through the tower. Daniel glanced out through the slit in the wall and was immediately struck with the beam of a bright light. Did they see him?

The sound of voices grew louder as the footsteps increased in speed on the stairs leading to the trap door. Sarah involuntarily moved away from the door as Daniel pointed the Uzi in that direction. Trapped . Sarah grabbed the shotgun and stood beside him, waiting for the inevitable. Then silence .

They listened for a moment, not daring to move. No voices. No footsteps . Had they given up and left? Daniel sided up to the slit in the wall and peered out. He could still make out all the cars in the driveway in the bright moonlight but could not see any of the men. He motioned for Sarah to stay where she was and slowly moved toward the trapdoor. Kneeling down, he placed his ear to the wooden floor. Nothing . It was eerily quiet. They had to be right below him, planning their next move.

Daniel backed away and stood next to Sarah. If they were going to make a move, it would be now. They were alone with no witnesses around and nothing to stop these men from getting to them. He knew they could defend themselves for a while, but the odds were not in their favor.

As if they had read his mind, a loud explosion rocked the tower as the trap door flew upward and shattered against one of the heavy wooden beams above. In a flash, a man jumped through the hole in the floor. Daniel fired a burst from the Uzi, knocking the man back against the wall. A second man was halfway through the opening when Sarah fired the shotgun. The man seemed to freeze for a moment before dropping back through the hole. Daniel threw another clip into the Uzi and aggressively advanced toward the hole while firing short bursts until he was directly overhead, looking down into the stairwell. A burst of automatic weapons fire spewed up from below, forcing him to retreat back against the wall with Sarah.

Bullets came ripping through the wooden floor, barely missing them as they crouched against the wall. It was only a matter of time now.

A young Italian couple sat on an ancient stone wall overlooking the coast. They had driven their car to a scenic observation point overlooking the sea and were watching the surf crash below. The moon was full and reflected off two dots in the distance that grew in size and captured the young couple’s attention. The moving dots continued to grow in size until two large gray helicopters loomed right in front of them and passed overhead, almost blowing them off the wall.