“That was Sister Maria Bravo,” said Father Kong, sadness in his voice. “She worked directly for Cardinal Polletto.” Robert looked over at the priest. “Is the cardinal?”

“Yes, he’s dead,” said Father Kong. “Stabbed to death.”

“And Father Tolbert?” Robert asked.

“The bastard’s over there,” said Thorne, pointing. “I took care of him myself.”

Father Tolbert, a crazed look in his dead eyes, was laid back over Cardinal Polletto’s body, head tilted back, throat cut wide open.

Robert took a deep breath and started over toward the dead children.

Thorne grabbed his arm.

“Robert.” He turned. Compassion filled Thorne’s face. “Alison’s dead,” she said.

Robert dropped his head. Even though she had betrayed them all, it still hurt. This whole thing stinks. “How?” he asked.

“She got caught in the crossfire when our people rushed inside,” said Thorne. “The Order’s people started shooting, and our people answered.

I don’t know who hit her, but she took two small caliber shots to the head.”

They killed her. Robert turned abruptly. “Let’s get this over with.” He walked over to the covered children and lifted the first sheet.

Thorne, Detective Reynolds and Father Kong spread out and did the same. Why? Why do this? Each innocent face seemed to reach inside and suck a little life out of him. Almost every nationality was represented amongst the dead; Indian, Chinese, African, Middle-Eastern. They must have taken them from all over the world.

Father Kong, Detective Reynolds and Thorne walked over as Robert examined the last body.

“They’re not here,” said Thorne.

“Maybe they’re still in the water,” said Father Kong. “We can get a closer look in the morning.”

“No,” snapped Robert, tears in his eyes. “I’m going back in tonight.” Father Kong opened his mouth to speak, but Thorne held up her hand. “I’ll go back in with you, partner. I’ll get our underwater gear so we can get a closer look. I’ll meet you down on the rocks.” Robert nodded. “Thanks, partner.”

Thorne gave Robert a firm hug, then grabbed Detective Reynolds and headed for the castle.

Father Kong placed a hand on Robert’s shoulder. “I’ll go down with you.”

As they walked, a sinking feeling of complete dread exploded inside Robert. He fell to his knees and cried. “He’s gone! I’ll never see him again!”

Father Kong knelt down and prayed. When he finished, he helped Robert to his feet. “I know how difficult this is for you. Remember Sister Isabella and the others who have died in this effort. But also remember, you have stopped a great evil tonight, and millions will live because of it.”

Robert heard the words, but they rang hollow. He wanted Samuel back in his arms. I’d give a million lives to have him back.

73

T he following day, and for three months after, members of Il Martello di Dio, along with Robert and Thorne, dragged Bracciano Lake, searching for Samuel and his brothers, but found nothing except for the mangled body of an old man named Giovanni Telfair, and two wrecked vehicles.

Hoping the boys had escaped somehow, Robert, Thorne and Father Kong searched Rome and the surrounding area, using every contact and resource at their disposal, but found nothing.

Detective Reynolds stayed for the first two weeks then headed back to Chicago. Robert had never seen Thorne happier.

Director Thompson showed up with questions Robert wouldn’t answer, but he didn’t press the matter. He offered CIA resources if they were needed. Robert declined.

Now, he and Thorne sat in front of Cardinal Maximilian, now known as Pope Pius VX. The first Pontiff of African-American decent in Roman Catholic history. Father Kong stood by the new Bishop of Rome’s side.

“We’ll never forget you,” said the new Pope. “Here at the Vatican, you have a friend.”

“Thank you, Your Excellency,” said Robert, proud to see a man he respected sitting in the seat in front of him. “If you ever need us, we’re here for you also.”

“Thank you. Father Kong will now lead Il Martello di Dio. We’ll stay in touch through him.”

“Why keep The Hammer of God going?” asked Thorne. “I thought this put The Order down for good.”

“It hurt them, but we fear they still have an ember of life. Father Sin and several of the others managed to escape,” said Father Kong. “And where there’s a small fire, a raging inferno looms.” Robert shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “If you ever get word of Samuel, anything, please let us know.”

“You’ll be the first to know,” said the Pope, standing, extending his hand. They said their goodbyes, and Robert and Thorne headed for the door. “God be with you,” said the Holy Father. “His favor and His blessings.”

Robert turned and smiled. “And also with you.” When Robert and Thorne were gone, Father Kong sat down in front of the Pope’s desk. “Holy Father, shouldn’t we tell them?”

“Tell them what?” asked the Pope. “We have no real proof.”

“But the chance of all three going missing is almost impossible.”

“Yes, and I too believe they’re alive, but we have nothing firm.” Pope Pius stroked his chin. “Deep down, I’m sure Mr. Veil feels the same. Keep an eye on him. If he finds the boy, we need to be there.”

“Yes, Holy Father. I understand.”

Epilogue

H igh in the snow drenched mountains of Switzerland, an old man sat on the porch of his private retreat, rocking back and forth in his chair. He watched three boys playing in the snow, each of them snug and warm in new snowsuits; one wearing blue, one red, and the last green, making it easy for the Black Pope to identify them from a distance.

Already a year after coming to live with him, the boys showed even more promise than he first realized. Each of them had developed a special skill. One showed extreme depth of thought, one brilliant strategy, and the last, a magnificent writer and orator. All three picked up languages with ease. Math, history and science seemed like playthings in their hands.

But one of the boys, the child in the red snowsuit, now on his back making an angel in the white powder, possessed a trait that the Black Pope and his people had waited for over a decade to boast about.

The Black Pope had watched the child grow stronger each day, directing the other two boys as a general would his troops. Marvelous.

The leader, the boy in red will one day rule the world.

Samuel ran up the stairs. “Grandfather, come play with us. We’re going to build a snowman.”

The Black Pope smiled. “Let me sit for awhile and rest. I’ll play with you a little later.”

Samuel gave the old man a hug and jumped down the stairs. He headed back toward Eduardo and Felipe, then stopped and turned. “And thanks for the new snowsuit, Grandfather. Blue’s my favorite color,” he said.

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