places.
The ZIL made another turn onto a narrow country road leading into the shadows of the mountains. They approached a security fence and passed through a gate guarded by a half-dozen heavily armed soldiers. John saw a sign written in Russian and English that said:No Unauthorized Vehicles or Personnel beyond this point.
A bump in the road stirred the general and he looked out the window.
"We're getting close, gentlemen," he said, with the faintest of accents. "I predict you will be impressed with our destination. It's called Wolf Castle and was built in the mid-1400s by Vlad Tepes III, known as The Impaler, Prince of Wallachia. He was the son of Vlad Drucul and came to be known as Dracula. So you will be spending your first day in Dracula's Castle. Dracul, by the way, is Romanian for devil."
John smiled as he listened. One way or another, I'm always fighting the same enemy.
Borodin continued, "Many years ago, Comrade Brezhnev would visit here during the summer months to get away from the political heat of the Kremlin. He called it his Russian Camp David, like the Maryland retreat of the American presidents."
The ZIL wound its way along an ever-increasing incline as the road snaked up the side of a particularly steep mountain. Thinning forest turned to rocky terrain and finally to sheer cliffs. Leveling off, the ZIL rounded a bend and John saw a medieval structure loom out of the mountaintop as if it had grown from the very granite. He heard the deep rumble as the heavy limousine rolled over the thick wooden drawbridge and entered the courtyard.
"We have arrived," Borodin said as he waited for the driver to get out and open the side door. Stepping from the limo first, the general waited for the others.
John and Archbishop Roberti got out next, followed by Father Michael Burns, a young priest who traveled with the group as Roberti's new assistant. The last to exit the ZIL were two plainclothes members of the Swiss Guard assigned as a diplomatic security unit.
"Welcome to Wolf Castle," Borodin said, motioning the entourage past him and toward the steps leading to the front entrance of the central building.
John looked up at the great walls that rose to challenge any medieval invasion. Their colossal battlements were imposing, and numerous conical roofs resembled giant missiles ready for launch.
A sudden muffledPOP - POP made him stop and spin around.
The two Swiss Guards sprawled prostrate on the ground, blood pooling at their heads. General Borodin stood over them, a smoking automatic pistol in his hand.
31
CASTLE KEEP
"Sweet Jesus, what have you done?" John stared at the two bodies on the ground. He took a step toward them.
"Don't be foolish," Borodin said, aiming the pistol.
"Have you lost your mind?" Archbishop Roberti's voice shook— his whole body shook.
Borodin waved the gun. "Shut up!" He spoke to his driver in Romanian, then ordered the priests to hand over their cell phones. After the driver collected the phones, Borodin commanded them to move inside.
John turned away from the bloody scene, sickened by what he had just witnessed. Obviously they had walked into a trap. The last-minute change of pickup time and meeting location, the tattered appearance of the soldiers and the car—it was a setup, and it had cost two good men their lives.
With the driver in the lead, they passed through a set of thick wooden doors into the largest of the buildings inside the walled fortress. Entering what John assumed was once a ceremonial great hall, their footfalls echoed off the ancient riverstone floor. Except for a handful of wooden benches and a few metal folding chairs, the room was bare. He saw a spotting of mounted antler racks, and a couple of ragged tapestries hung on the walls. Overall, the fortress appeared neglected and in need of maintenance and repairs.
The priests were taken to a wing of the castle that contained a number of small bedrooms. They passed a handful of armed
The ZIL made another turn onto a narrow country road leading into the shadows of the mountains. They approached a security fence and passed through a gate guarded by a half-dozen heavily armed soldiers. John saw a sign written in Russian and English that said:No Unauthorized Vehicles or Personnel beyond this point.
A bump in the road stirred the general and he looked out the window.
"We're getting close, gentlemen," he said, with the faintest of accents. "I predict you will be impressed with our destination. It's called Wolf Castle and was built in the mid-1400s by Vlad Tepes III, known as The Impaler, Prince of Wallachia. He was the son of Vlad Drucul and came to be known as Dracula. So you will be spending your first day in Dracula's Castle. Dracul, by the way, is Romanian for devil."
John smiled as he listened. One way or another, I'm always fighting the same enemy.
Borodin continued, "Many years ago, Comrade Brezhnev would visit here during the summer months to get away from the political heat of the Kremlin. He called it his Russian Camp David, like the Maryland retreat of the American presidents."
The ZIL wound its way along an ever-increasing incline as the road snaked up the side of a particularly steep mountain. Thinning forest turned to rocky terrain and finally to sheer cliffs. Leveling off, the ZIL rounded a bend and John saw a medieval structure loom out of the mountaintop as if it had grown from the very granite. He heard the deep rumble as the heavy limousine rolled over the thick wooden drawbridge and entered the courtyard.
"We have arrived," Borodin said as he waited for the driver to get out and open the side door. Stepping from the limo first, the general waited for the others.
John and Archbishop Roberti got out next, followed by Father Michael Burns, a young priest who traveled with the group as Roberti's new assistant. The last to exit the ZIL were two plainclothes members of the Swiss Guard assigned as a diplomatic security unit.
"Welcome to Wolf Castle," Borodin said, motioning the entourage past him and toward the steps leading to the front entrance of the central building.
John looked up at the great walls that rose to challenge any medieval invasion. Their colossal battlements were imposing, and numerous conical roofs resembled giant missiles ready for launch.
A sudden muffledPOP - POP made him stop and spin around.
The two Swiss Guards sprawled prostrate on the ground, blood pooling at their heads. General Borodin stood over them, a smoking automatic pistol in his hand.
31
CASTLE KEEP
"Sweet Jesus, what have you done?" John stared at the two bodies on the ground. He took a step toward them.
"Don't be foolish," Borodin said, aiming the pistol.
"Have you lost your mind?" Archbishop Roberti's voice shook— his whole body shook.
Borodin waved the gun. "Shut up!" He spoke to his driver in Romanian, then ordered the priests to hand over their cell phones. After the driver collected the phones, Borodin commanded them to move inside.
John turned away from the bloody scene, sickened by what he had just witnessed. Obviously they had walked into a trap. The last-minute change of pickup time and meeting location, the tattered appearance of the soldiers and the car—it was a setup, and it had cost two good men their lives.
With the driver in the lead, they passed through a set of thick wooden doors into the largest of the buildings inside the walled fortress. Entering what John assumed was once a ceremonial great hall, their footfalls echoed off the ancient riverstone floor. Except for a handful of wooden benches and a few metal folding chairs, the room was bare. He saw a spotting of mounted antler racks, and a couple of ragged tapestries hung on the walls. Overall, the fortress appeared neglected and in need of maintenance and repairs.
The priests were taken to a wing of the castle that contained a number of small bedrooms. They passed a handful of armed
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