one of the waiting taxis as Robert and Thorne pulled away.
“Follow them,” Father Tolbert ordered the driver, slamming the door, handing him a fifty-dollar bill. “And don’t let them get away.”
51
T en minutes into the ride, Father Tolbert knew they were headed for Alison Napier’s hotel. Good, it’s the perfect place.
The night crowd had died down, and the taxis made good time.
Father Tolbert had to warn his driver several times not to follow too close, and several more not to lose sight of the car. A block and a half from the hotel, he got out and walked, blindly bumping into several people along the way. A half block from the Minerve, he stopped to gather his confidence.
When he turned the corner, something hit him hard in the stomach.
He keeled over and landed on his face. Dazed, he felt someone turn him over and bark loudly. Dizzy and struggling for breath, he couldn’t make out a word. Finally, his watery eyes cleared. Robert and Thorne stared down at him, both with guns pointed at his head.
“Who the hell are you?” snapped Robert. “Why are you following us?”
The priest coughed hard and sucked in air, unable to get out the words.
“He tailed us from the hospital,” said Thorne. “I spotted him in the parking lot before we left.”
Robert shoved his machine gun against Father Tolbert’s forehead. “I suggest you speak quickly, we’re not in the mood this evening.”
“My name is Father Charles Tolbert,” the priest finally spewed. “I met you back in Chicago, with the Napiers.” Father Tolbert watched Robert’s face go from bewilderment, to heated anger. He put his gun away.
“Why?” asked Robert. “Why did you hurt my godson?” Father Tolbert couldn’t find the words. He didn’t have any that would suffice. Robert asked why over and over, his own eyes glassy, a tight grip around the priest’s neck, banging Father Tolbert’s head against the concrete.
“Bastard! You fucking bastard!” screamed Robert.
Thorne looked on, her own eyes red with hatred. After a moment, she reached down, grabbed her partner and pulled him off. “Robert, we need this asshole. Let him up.”
Robert backed off, then lunged forward with a punch to the jaw as Father Tolbert tried to stand, knocking him back to the ground.
Onlookers pointed and whispered, then pulled out their cell phones and dialed.
“We need to get away from here,” said Thorne, “before the cops show up.”
Robert snatched Father Tolbert up and they hurried away from the hotel, stopping near Trevi Fountain, where the priest plopped down on a bench. Thorne handed him a handkerchief.
“Why were following us?” she asked. “If you ask me, you should’ve stayed as far away from us as possible.” Father Tolbert rested back and took a deep breath. “I had to find you.
It’s important that we talk.”
“What could you possibly have to say to me that would keep me from putting a bullet in your head?” Robert growled.
“I don’t blame you for hating me,” answered the priest. “I deserve punishment, if not death. I’m ashamed of myself for what I did to children, and how I stained the Church.”
“It’s a little late for I’m sorry around here,” snapped Robert. “Why?
Why Samuel? Why any child?”
The priest stared off into the night. “Nothing I tell you will be good enough, but I know how sick I am, and my sickness has never been dealt with, not by me, or the Church. They only swept me under the rug, moved me around. Many of them shared my struggles, some even encouraged me.”
Thorne stepped closer. “Like Cardinal Polletto?” Father Tolbert perused both their faces. “He knew about my difficulties, but never raised a hand to stop me.”
“Why do you think he didn’t?” asked Thorne.
“I know now how evil Cardinal Polletto is, and that he’s been using me for his own purpose, for The Order.”
Both Robert and Thorne moved closer.
“You know about The Order?” asked Robert. “What can you tell us?”
“They’re very powerful,” answered Father Tolbert. “They used me to bring Samuel and his brothers into the world.” Robert grabbed the priest and shook him hard. Thorne grabbed her partner and pushed him back. She turned toward Father Tolbert and took a knee. “How did they use you?” she asked.
Father Tolbert repeated the story Cardinal Polletto told him. That he was the father of the triplets. “The Order believes Samuel is the Anti-Christ, and intends to find out through a ritual to be performed in seventy-two hours.”
“Have you seen Samuel?” Thorne asked gently.
“No, but Cardinal Polletto introduced the other boys to me over a week ago. They could be anywhere right now. The Order will keep them hidden until the ceremony, but we have time.” Thorne stood. “But you said we only have three days.”
“I know, but they can’t perform the ritual without me. That’s why I ran away and hid out. Without me, they can’t make a move.”
“We have to take him back to the villa,” Robert told Thorne. “Keep him hidden until we find Samuel and the others.”
“Thank you,” gushed Father Tolbert, crying. “I didn’t know where else to turn.”
Robert grabbed him again. “Listen, you asshole. God may forgive you, but I never will. If you live through this, you’re going to jail for the rest of your miserable life. And if they don’t put you away, I’ll kill you myself.” Robert slammed the priest down hard on the concrete bench.
Thorne looked at him with little pity. “Where is this ritual going to take place?”
Father Tolbert opened his mouth, but his words were drowned out by machine gunfire. Robert and Thorne spun around and fired back at six men running toward them. Father Tolbert dove under the bench, bullets whizzing past his head. Robert snatched him to his feet and shielded him from the gunfire. Thorne cursed as she shot back, killing two of the men.
“Let’s go!” Robert shouted, pushing the priest toward the darker side of the street.
Father Tolbert pumped his arms and legs as fast as he could, his lungs begging for more oxygen than he could provide. The gunfire continued. Two cars screeched to a stop, and more armed men jumped out and gave chase. Father Tolbert found his rhythm and ran harder, but when he turned to see how far the men were he lost his footing and crashed to the ground.
“Get up!” screamed Robert, extending one hand, shooting with the other.
Father Tolbert jumped to his feet, but his ankle twisted and he crashed back down on the concrete.
Police cars flew up behind them. Father Tolbert felt a moment of relief, until the police pointed and fired at them. The men in front of them advanced. Robert sent two more to the ground. A bullet caught the priest in the leg.
“Robert, leave him!” screamed Thorne.
“No!”
“No, please,” bellowed Father Tolbert, “don’t let them get me!” More cars showed up. More men. More guns. Robert and his partner bolted, and left Father Tolbert on the ground. Two men ran over and snatched the priest to his feet. One plunged a needle into his arm. Father Tolbert felt dizzy almost immediately and lost his balance. The other man taped his mouth and tied his hands. A car drove up and they tossed him in the trunk.
Father Tolbert kicked and twisted as best he could, but to no avail.
He heard screaming and more gunfire as the car peeled away. With the small bit of strength he had remaining, he said a prayer for Robert Veil and Nikki Thorne.
