her camera. The battery on the digital unit was about to run out.
‘Damn! I don’t believe this!’ Maria glanced around the room, realizing there was no way she could finish her work with so little power. She’d have to go to the upper chamber to get her backup battery before she could finish the task.
The black helicopter hovered near the plateau, swaying in the strong wind. The pilot fought the air currents the best he could but realized he was in danger of losing control. ‘Let me set her down, sir. The wind is swirling off the rock face. I don’t know how much longer I can hold it.’
The lone passenger in the copter lowered the binoculars from his cold, black eyes. ‘You’ll hold it until I tell you otherwise. I have two men on that rock face, and my job is to cover them from an airborne position.’
The pilot argued, ‘Well, I have a job, too. And it’s impossible to do it in these conditions. I’m setting her down now!’
‘If you do, I swear to God I’ll have your ass.’ The intensity of his glare proved that he was serious. He was willing to do anything to complete his mission.
Anything
. There was simply too much at stake. ‘Give me five more minutes, and this will all be over.’
11
Piazza Risorgimento,
Rome, Italy
(fifty meters from Vatican City)
Buses filled with foreigners rumbled past him on their way to the main gate of the Holy City. People with cameras and unruly children strolled by his bench completely ignorant of who he was or why he was there. Their sole focus was on Saint Peter’s Square and the Sistine Chapel and all the glorious artifacts in the Vatican museum, not the old man in the expensive suit or the two bodyguards who stood behind him.
Of course that was the reason that he liked to come here, the perverse amusement he got from watching so many people shell out their hard-earned cash for guidebooks and private tours. Meanwhile he sat on his bench knowing the vast majority of the Vatican’s treasure lay hidden underneath the streets that they were walking on, everything protected in hermetic vaults that made Fort Knox look like a piggy bank. He smiled, realizing that none of them, no matter who they were or how much money they had, would
ever
see the treasures that he saw every day.
The contents of
Archivio Segreto Vaticano
. The Vatican Secret Archives.
Benito Pelati’s official title was the minister of antiquities, a job he’d held for over three decades. Unofficially he was known throughout Italy as the godfather of archaeology, for he vowed to protect every relic found on Italian soil, even if that meant breaking a few laws in the process. Some critics looked down on him for his questionable methods, especially in the early years when he just started building his violent reputation. But the Vatican never did. They knew a man with his talents would be invaluable. Not only his academic knowledge but his willingness to do
whatever
he needed to get results.
Every organization, even one as sanctimonious as the Church, can use men like that.
Still, in the beginning it was Benito’s expertise in the world of art, not his brutality, that got him noticed. Cardinal Pietro Bandolfo, the former chair of the Vatican’s Supreme Council, was a childhood friend of Benito’s and his biggest ally. Bandolfo understood politics better than his fellow cardinals and assured the Vatican the only way to protect its place in the modern world was to join hands with Benito, someone trained outside of the Church. Someone who could update their antiquated system. Someone who
wasn’t
encumbered by papal law. Eventually, the Vatican agreed, and Benito was hired to update their way of doing things.
And his first project was organizing their most valuable asset: the Secret Archives.
Benito ran his fingers through his slicked-back gray hair and remembered the first day he was taken through the vaults. What an honor it was. Less than thirty men were privy to the contents of the
‘Damn! I don’t believe this!’ Maria glanced around the room, realizing there was no way she could finish her work with so little power. She’d have to go to the upper chamber to get her backup battery before she could finish the task.
The black helicopter hovered near the plateau, swaying in the strong wind. The pilot fought the air currents the best he could but realized he was in danger of losing control. ‘Let me set her down, sir. The wind is swirling off the rock face. I don’t know how much longer I can hold it.’
The lone passenger in the copter lowered the binoculars from his cold, black eyes. ‘You’ll hold it until I tell you otherwise. I have two men on that rock face, and my job is to cover them from an airborne position.’
The pilot argued, ‘Well, I have a job, too. And it’s impossible to do it in these conditions. I’m setting her down now!’
‘If you do, I swear to God I’ll have your ass.’ The intensity of his glare proved that he was serious. He was willing to do anything to complete his mission.
Anything
. There was simply too much at stake. ‘Give me five more minutes, and this will all be over.’
11
Piazza Risorgimento,
Rome, Italy
(fifty meters from Vatican City)
Buses filled with foreigners rumbled past him on their way to the main gate of the Holy City. People with cameras and unruly children strolled by his bench completely ignorant of who he was or why he was there. Their sole focus was on Saint Peter’s Square and the Sistine Chapel and all the glorious artifacts in the Vatican museum, not the old man in the expensive suit or the two bodyguards who stood behind him.
Of course that was the reason that he liked to come here, the perverse amusement he got from watching so many people shell out their hard-earned cash for guidebooks and private tours. Meanwhile he sat on his bench knowing the vast majority of the Vatican’s treasure lay hidden underneath the streets that they were walking on, everything protected in hermetic vaults that made Fort Knox look like a piggy bank. He smiled, realizing that none of them, no matter who they were or how much money they had, would
ever
see the treasures that he saw every day.
The contents of
Archivio Segreto Vaticano
. The Vatican Secret Archives.
Benito Pelati’s official title was the minister of antiquities, a job he’d held for over three decades. Unofficially he was known throughout Italy as the godfather of archaeology, for he vowed to protect every relic found on Italian soil, even if that meant breaking a few laws in the process. Some critics looked down on him for his questionable methods, especially in the early years when he just started building his violent reputation. But the Vatican never did. They knew a man with his talents would be invaluable. Not only his academic knowledge but his willingness to do
whatever
he needed to get results.
Every organization, even one as sanctimonious as the Church, can use men like that.
Still, in the beginning it was Benito’s expertise in the world of art, not his brutality, that got him noticed. Cardinal Pietro Bandolfo, the former chair of the Vatican’s Supreme Council, was a childhood friend of Benito’s and his biggest ally. Bandolfo understood politics better than his fellow cardinals and assured the Vatican the only way to protect its place in the modern world was to join hands with Benito, someone trained outside of the Church. Someone who could update their antiquated system. Someone who
wasn’t
encumbered by papal law. Eventually, the Vatican agreed, and Benito was hired to update their way of doing things.
And his first project was organizing their most valuable asset: the Secret Archives.
Benito ran his fingers through his slicked-back gray hair and remembered the first day he was taken through the vaults. What an honor it was. Less than thirty men were privy to the contents of the
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