forced to let him escape, that the power of the government — and the church — would allow him to go on, that there would be no justice for his crimes.’ He paused. ‘You have a thirst for vengeance and an ability to achieve it that I do not.’
Lila’s face was livid. ‘What you’re saying is that you used your influence to shut down the investigation to make it seem nothing would be done to Zacharias, just so you could deceive my… my unborn child’s father into risking his life to go after someone you wanted out of the way? Make him your own personal avenging angel? Or would you rather continue with your “savior”…?’ She was glaring, but let the sentence trail off.
The Protos stared at Lila. His face was sad. ‘I don’t see it that way. I see your unborn child’s father as slaying the dragon of Satan. Something no one without sin could have done.’
Andreas wanted desperately to lighten the tone. ‘Now you’re calling me a sinner. I preferred the other titles.’ He said it with a smile.
The Protos forced a smile. ‘You live in a world foreign to me, foreign to many both in and out of the church. We must rely upon others to protect us from the evil of that world, and to serve as judge when necessary — rendering the harshest of judgments at times, because it is the fair judgment and one that must be made. That is why I turned to you. To be our shield and our sword.’
‘Sounds like a speech to the Crusaders,’ Lila mumbled under her breath.
If the Protos heard her, he didn’t react. ‘Please, believe me when I say I am not here to do anything more than thank you for saving our church from certain tragedy, and for bringing the killers of my close friend to justice. I live amid a world that many think is…’ he seemed to be searching for a word, ‘ unsoiled.’
Lila perked up, but did not interrupt.
‘Whether or not I agree is not important, only that I realize no one from that world could have done what you did.’
‘That was an interesting and, I must say, unusual word choice, Your Holiness,’ said Lila.
The Protos smiled at her. ‘I’d thought you might grasp its meaning. You’re a very smart woman.’
‘And a fan of anagrams.’
He stood.
‘Now, there is only one more thing left to do.’ The Protos reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a cross. He waved it above their heads. ‘May the Lord bless you with long, healthy life and happy, healthy children. Make that “many happy, healthy children.” Amen.’
Andreas said, ‘Amen.’
Lila nodded and said, ‘Thank you.’
‘This is yours by the way.’ The Protos handed Andreas the cross.
Andreas took it. ‘It’s not mine.’
‘Yes, it is. It’s the one Vassilis wore all his life. It came from his father’s father. I know he would want you to have it, for you to pass on to the child of a new generation.’
Andreas stared at it. ‘Thank you, Your Holiness. I will treasure it always.’
‘I know you will.’ The Protos patted Andreas on the shoulder. ‘By the way, in case you wonder how I came to have it, I asked a mutual friend on Patmos to pick it up for me from Abbot Christodoulos. Our friend said to say “thank you” for convincing the abbot to let his building permit go through.’
Andreas was puzzled. ‘I don’t understand. I assume you’re talking about Dimitri, but I never spoke to the abbot about his permit.’
The Protos smiled. ‘I know, but we both know how much Dimitri likes to talk, and I’d rather have him publicly thanking you for that bit of meddling in another monastery’s internal affairs than me. I’m sure you agree Dimitri was entitled to that modest reward for all his assistance?’
Andreas nodded. Guess that answers who Dimitri worked for.
The Protos’ tone turned serious. ‘And that the abbot needed to be reminded that trusting the wrong sort, even innocently, has its consequences.’
I like this guy’s style, Andreas thought.
‘Now, if you would please excuse me, I have a few things to explain to the Archbishop of Greece, who so kindly loaned me his driver and car for the day. And I think you have a few to explain as well.’ He was smiling again.
On second thought…
Lila said, ‘What is he talking about?’
‘I’ll tell you when I get back. I have to walk him out.’
He looked at the Protos. ‘Thanks for that,’ then mouthed to him with a sarcastic look Lila could not see, ‘and I don’t mean for the cross.’
The Protos laughed. Probably for what must have been the first time in a very long time.
24
‘The operation was aborted.’
‘What do you mean, “aborted”?’ Vladimir’s temper flared.
‘Things changed.’
Vladimir yelled into the phone. ‘Anatoly, I told you the cop must be eliminated. It was not a situation subject to change. How dare you make such a decision without consulting me?’
There was a long pause. ‘My old friend, I will permit you to speak to me that way this once, because I understand the pressure you are under. But do not forget what you asked me to do.’
Vladimir swallowed. He’d asked him to kill a man. Something Anatoly had arranged many times before — and could do again, should Vladimir push him too far. ‘Yes, I am under pressure.’ It was as much of an apology as Vladimir was capable of giving.
‘Good. Now let me tell you why the operation was terminated. Our man met Zacharias at Ouranoupolis.’
Anatoly is calling him ‘our’ man, thought Vladimir. Once KGB, always KGB.
‘At first our man thought him not worthy of further attention and planned to let him walk away. He seemed to have lost his old edge, even allowed our man to bully him into paying a ridiculous bribe. Then, just as our man was about to turn over the package, the true Butcher showed himself. He threatened to wipe our man’s seed off the earth and pulled a gun. But our man was prepared for the worst. The canister carrying the dioxin was equipped to flood a sixteen-square-foot area with an instantly debilitating gas at the press of a button. It took down both Zacharias and our man.’
Vladimir wasn’t interested in any of this. He wanted to know why the cop was still alive. But he dared not interrupt. He sensed Anatoly was dragging this out just to let him know that now he was in charge.
‘Thankfully, comrades were hidden and watching from a nearby building. They carried both men to a waiting boat, administered the antidote to our man, and made rendezvous with a helicopter at sea. Zacharias awoke in Moscow.’
‘Did he say anything?’
‘Not at first.’
Vladimir didn’t have to ask what that meant.
‘Ultimately, he told us everything.’
Vladimir couldn’t control himself. ‘Anatoly, stop with this. What did he say? Is there a problem?’
‘Not for you, my friend.’
‘Anatoly.’ Vladimir’s frustration was patent.
‘I just learned what happened myself. It took days to break him down. But, as I said, he broke.’
Vladimir realized that the more anxiety he showed the more likely Anatoly was to drag this out. It was a torture technique. Old ways never changed. He decided to say nothing and let Vladimir ramble on until his point was made. He’d make it, no doubt he would. It was a trait common to all apparatchiks, an irresistible urge to reinforce their personal illusions of power by revealing information they alone possessed.
‘He has made you a hero, my friend.’
Vladimir held his tongue. ‘The Butcher had followed the traditional route of many fleeing the world’s
