The Trinity Game

“The mission of the Fleur-de-Lis Foundation is to bring the truth to light, so the public can make informed choices about our civilization’s future,” said Carter Ames. “Unfortunately, there are other people, equally powerful, who do not trust the public with the truth. So we struggle against each other. It is a game we’ve been playing for many years, a game that may never end. But it must be played, lest we lose what’s left of our freedoms.”

“Do they have a name, these powerful people you’re struggling against?”

“Indeed. They call themselves the Council for World Peace. But don’t let the name fool you.” He sipped his scotch. “Oh, they might accept world peace, but only on their terms, under their control. Peace without freedom. For us, that is too high a price. We do not consider slavery, however peaceful, to be a viable future.”

“Slavery? Come on.”

“Of course they don’t see it as such. They prefer words like security and stability. But it all comes down to control, in the end. The council’s roots—and the foundation’s, for that matter—go back to the Middle Ages, albeit both under different names. The council began simply as a network of spies—a freelance espionage agency, if you will—gathering intelligence around Europe and the eastern trade routes and selling what they learned to monarchs and popes and wealthy merchant families, greasing the wheels of commerce. But over time their actions went far beyond intelligence gathering. They grew ever more powerful and became their own biggest client, really.”

“And how did the foundation begin?” asked Daniel.

“We were one of their clients—a huge merchant shipping dynasty, with interests spread across the civilized world—one of the most powerful families in France at the time. But this family held some sense of noblesse oblige, and as the heirs saw what the council was becoming, how it was concentrating power into fewer and fewer hands, they established the Fleur-de-Lis Foundation to thwart the council.

“And what the hell does this have to do with my uncle?”

Carter Ames shook his head. “What’s happening with your uncle, as significant as it is, is but one more battlefront in a war that has been raging for centuries. There have always been people who think like us and people who think like them, fighting behind the scenes of world events. What I’m trying to tell you, Daniel, is that the world as you know it is just what you’re allowed to see. The council and the foundation have left their fingerprints on almost any major world event you care to mention. The Kennedy assassination? Sure, but also his rise to the presidency. The alliance between the United States and Russia to stop Hitler? Yes, but also the alliance between Hitler and Hirohito. Even the American Revolution. I’m saying that history, as you know it, is just the edited version.”

“OK, thanks for the drink, Mr. Ames,” said Daniel, “but that sounds all kinds of crazy. You expect me to believe that these two organizations have been shaping history, and the world has never even heard of them? I don’t buy it.”

Carter Ames smiled placidly. “I don’t expect you to, not yet. But consider this: if you’d done the job the Vatican had sent you to do, the world would never have known about the Trinity Phenomenon. And that would just be one more piece of history kept secret.”

The truth of it hit Daniel like a gut punch. If he’d not discovered the alterations of the transcripts Nick had given him, the world would never have known. How many other world events, what other strange phenomenon had been successfully covered up and kept secret from the public? He felt like a door had just been cracked open to another world, and the opening was too narrow to see more than a sliver of what lay beyond.

“I need more,” he said. “What’s the bigger picture, the truth you’re trying to expose?”

“You’re not quite there yet, Daniel,” said Carter Ames. “If and when you do get there, I think you will want to join us, but it isn’t something to be taken lightly. While the hours are brutal, the pay is excellent and the job comes with a first-class expense account. You will likely not live to see old age, but you might. And whenever you die, you’ll die knowing that you’ve helped save the world from another Dark Ages.” His face darkened as he spoke. “That’s why I became involved. I wanted to be able to look my granddaughter in the eye knowing I’d done everything I could, on my watch, to make things better. Or at least to hold back the darkness.”

Hold back the darkness… The words sent a chill through Daniel.

Carter Ames put his glass down and reached into his breast pocket. “At any rate, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Right now you need to focus your attention on keeping your uncle alive.”

“Is Father Nick part of this?” He had to know.

“At most, he may have helped them unwittingly,” said Carter Ames. “He’s not a member of the council. But Conrad Winter is. And we know they have others in the Vatican.” He pulled a photograph from his breast pocket and handed it across. “Anyway, this is the man you need to focus on.” The man in the picture was bald, muscular, probably in his late thirties, with humorless eyes and thin lips. “It was taken at the airport yesterday. We spotted him coming off a flight from Montreal, kept him under surveillance until this afternoon. He slipped away from our operatives a couple hours ago. Just melted into the crowds. We have no leads on his location.”

“Who is he?”

“Ask your friend Pat.” The car came to a stop at the curb in front of the Saint Sebastian’s Boys Athletic Club. The driver got out and opened the coach door for Daniel.

“Wait a second,” said Daniel. “You know Pat?”

“Oh, Pat’s been in the game for years,” said Carter Ames. “As an ally, thankfully. We were very pleased when you brought him into this. Do give him my regards.”

Daniel locked the door behind him and stepped into the empty gym. He dropped the keys in his pocket and began spreading the groceries out on the edge of the boxing ring.

Pat entered the gym from one of the back rooms and made straight for the potato chips. “Jalapeno,” he said, ripping the bag open and inhaling. “My favorite.”

“We need to talk,” said Daniel, reaching into his back pocket for the photo Carter Ames had given him.

“Sure, what’s up?”

Tim Trinity came in from the changing rooms, wearing only boxer shorts, socks, and a bulletproof vest. “You’re right, it’s not too bad,” he said to Pat, “practically disappears under my shirt.” He stopped when he spotted the groceries on the boxing ring. “Oh good, I’m starved.” He grabbed a sandwich and took a big bite.

Pat said, “It won’t stop a bullet aimed at your head, Tim.”

“Don’t start that again.” Trinity groaned with a smile and turned to Daniel. “Our friend is in danger of becoming a nattering nabob of negativism.” He took another bite and chewed. “Great sandwich. Thanks.”

Daniel tucked the photo back into his pocket and picked up a sandwich while Trinity resumed the banter, teasing Pat about the health benefits of keeping a positive attitude.

After cheerfully wolfing down a couple of sandwiches and a handful of chips, Trinity announced he was turning in early to finish writing tomorrow’s sermon and get a good night’s sleep.

As soon as he was gone, Daniel turned to Pat and said, “Carter Ames sends his regards.”

“What?”

“You saying you don’t know who Carter Ames is?”

“Yeah, I know him. Just surprised you do.”

“We only just met.”

Pat thought for a second, then laughed through his nose. “I shoulda figured he’d show up in all this. Seems a little late to the party, though.”

“He’s been in it from the start. Remember I told you about the help I was getting from someone named Papa Legba?”

“Ah,” Pat smiled. “Crafty old bastard.”

“So what’s this Fleur-de-Lis Foundation you guys work for?”

“He said I worked for the FDL?”

“He called you an ally.”

“That’s true enough. But I don’t work for them, I’m independent.”

“Who are they?”

Pat shook his head. “Carter Ames is playing us. He gave you a little glimpse, now he wants me to recruit you. I won’t do it.”