Papal decree

66

Rafael didn’t reveal their final destination. In the present state of distrust it was better to rely on himself. He gave the driver directions as necessary: Turn left, right, straight ahead, enter here.

They entered Via della Gatta, and Rafael told him to park in the Piazza del Collegio Romano. Rafael, Daniel, and two of his men got out, along with Barry and Aris. Only Jacopo, Sarah, and the driver stayed back. Rafael instructed him to drive around the city, far from there, until he received further orders.

‘Can we trust him?’ Rafael asked Daniel about the driver.

The commander sighed. ‘He’s never failed me,’ he replied with frustration. ‘But Hugo never did, either.’

Rafael looked the driver in the eye. You can’t tell a person from his face. Every evaluation was subjective.

‘Get out of the van,’ he ordered.

‘What?’ the agent asked, puzzled.

‘Get out of the car,’ Rafael said, and looked at Jacopo. ‘Take Sarah for a ride.’

‘Are you kidding?’ Jacopo asked. He was clutching the leather case that held the most important documents in Christianity, and he was clearly upset.

‘Show her your skill as a driver.’ Rafael smiled.

Barry, who was on the telephone, clapped the priest on the shoulder. ‘Fifteen minutes.’

‘Okay,’ Rafael agreed. ‘Let’s hope they aren’t late.’

He checked his watch. It was nine fifteen.

‘Get out of here, Jacopo. Start driving,’ Rafael ordered, slammed the door, and gave it a slap with his hand. He gave Sarah a final look. He didn’t want her stuck in the middle of that craziness.

Jacopo left, complaining about priests who ordered everyone around. He was tired and hungry.

‘Give the orders,’ Barry said, impatient to get into action.

‘Follow me.’

They walked along the side of the enormous building that once was the Collegio Romano, administered by the Jesuits. It kept its educational mission, but belonged to the Italian government now. At the end of a narrow street they turned left and entered a small plaza, the Piazza di Sant’Ignazio.

Rafael thought about the information Gunter had given him before dying. At first he hadn’t considered it important. But after the conversation with Robin, he remembered it. Five narrow streets ended in this small plaza in the heart of Rome, and it was surrounded by small buildings on all sides, except one. On this one a monumental baroque church rose up toward the sky, the Church of Saint Ignatius of Loyola at Campus Martius.

It was an impressive structure, and one couldn’t take in the monumental facade all at once.

The church was built in 1650 and functioned as the rectory of the nearby Collegio Romano, located in an enormous building that had been built in 1584, when it became the Pontifical Gregorian University. Later the rectory was moved, but the church remained, dedicated to Saint Ignatius, and despite the former building of the Collegio Romano being turned into a school that no longer belonged to the society, the church remained one of the most important places for decisions the society made.

‘Is it here?’ Daniel asked.

Rafael looked a few feet above on the tympanum to see the cursed symbol that dominated the center of the facade, IHS. It was here.

The doors were closed. A panel at the side of the main door announced a concert for that night. They were going to play Franz Liszt. Red letters had been written over the announcement: CANCELED.

Two men in black were standing by the panel with benevolent smiles, explaining to some tourists that the concert had been canceled due to the conductor’s illness and that the church was closed.

Rafael told Daniel to order his men to go into the restaurant across the street, while they and the Americans sat in the esplanade, heated by powerful gas heaters. People were eating at most of the tables. A group of six young Spaniards were laughing and talking loudly.

‘Are you going in all the chapels?’ Barry asked Rafael, enjoying himself.

‘How are we going to get in there?’ Aris asked.

‘By force?’ Daniel suggested, before giving his men their orders. He wanted very much to rescue the two most important men in the church, after the pope. He immediately joined the priest and the Americans in the esplanade.

The church was like a fortress that couldn’t be taken by force — solid, firm, installed on an entire city block of Jesuit buildings.

Barry picked up the menu to order a drink. ‘Sentries?’ he asked Rafael.

‘Look inside the cassock of the one on the right side,’ he replied.

Barry and Aris observed without being seen. The cassock wasn’t buttoned. They could see the shape of a holster.

The waitress came up to get their order. Beers all around. Very friendly and gracious, she gave Rafael a special smile and went off to attend to other thirsty tourists, ignoring the chorus of flirtatious whistles from a group of noisy youngsters.

‘What’s your plan?’ Barry asked.

‘We’re going to improvise,’ the priest replied.

Barry nodded his head in agreement and compressed his lips.

‘What if the cardinals aren’t inside?’ Aris asked. There was always that possibility.

‘Why have armed men in front of the church?’ Barry countered. ‘It’s a church for the love of God.’

The young waitress arrived with the beers and set them around the table. She gave Rafael another sweet smile.

‘Do you think you could find me a map of the city?’ Rafael asked, deploying a little charm that seemed to win her over.

‘Certainly.’

‘Are you going to celebrate Mass tomorrow morning, Father?’ Barry asked with a big smile.

The young woman blushed and winked at Rafael, who swallowed a sip of beer. She hurried off to find a map.

‘These women,’ Barry commented, shaking his head.

‘The forbidden fruit,’ Rafael said, uninterested in the conversation. ‘I think you’d make a good Jesuit,’ he joked.

‘Now that you mention it, I do, too.’

The young woman brought the map, folded in two, and gave it to the priest. She took advantage of the opportunity to rub her hand against his. The Spaniards called her over for something.

‘I’ll bet you she wrote down her number,’ Barry joked provocatively.

It was very probable, but Rafael didn’t look for it as he opened the page with the city center.

‘Are you ready?’ the priest asked.

‘I was born ready. What about these people?’ He was talking about the tourists sitting in the esplanade.

‘Count on Daniel to create a distraction,’ Rafael said.

‘I’ll wait for your signal,’ Daniel said, ready to act.

‘Don’t forget, we’re dealing with fanatics,’ the priest reminded them. ‘Barry, Aris, and I are going in. If I need you, I’ll call you.’

‘I understand,’ Daniel said.

Rafael pushed back the chair to get up. Barry and Aris followed him. He left twenty euros to pay for the drinks, and walked toward the church door with Barry by his side and Aris behind them. Daniel called one of his men on the radio.

‘We’re lost tourists?’ Barry asked.

Rafael nodded with the map open in his hand, as if trying to find some random place.

‘Scusami,’ he said to one of the lookouts, coming up next to him with the map. ‘Fontana di Trevi, dove?’ he asked, pointing at the map.

The helpful sentinel looked at the map with a friendly manner and found the fountain they were looking for. An elbow to the chest, followed by a punch in the nose, while Rafael bent his arm up his back made the lookout lose his balance, requiring him to be supported by the priest. Meanwhile, Barry and Aris overpowered the other with a kick in the knee and a blow to the head.

At the same time on the esplanade, Daniel, now on his feet, kicked the guard who had come to meet him, so hard that it sent him sprawling across the noisy Spaniards’ table. Daniel threw himself on top of the table to continue attacking his subordinate, while the tourists and waiters watched apprehensively. One of the customers tried to separate them, but a young man in the same uniform as the fighters saw what was happening and stopped him with a hand on his chest. ‘Keep out of this.’

Rafael and the Americans opened the church door and dragged the two unconscious lookouts inside. The first part was over.

On the esplanade the young man in the Swiss Guard uniform put his fingers in his mouth and whistled. Daniel, still struggling with his subordinate, stopped as soon as he heard the whistle. He got up and helped up the other as well. He composed himself as well as he could and shook the other’s hand. ‘I’ll buy you a drink later,’ Daniel said gratefully.

No one understood what was going on. The Spaniards watched silently, speechless. One thing was certain. It wasn’t a good idea to get into a fight with those two guys.

Inside the church the three men were in the vestibule, protected by the inner doors.

‘What now?’ Aris asked, whispering so that his voice wouldn’t echo.

‘I’m going to enter on the right and follow along the side nave. You do the same on the left,’ Rafael explained. ‘It’s too dangerous to go down the center aisle.’

‘Okay,’ Barry agreed. ‘We’ll see each other in front.’

Rafael nodded and stuck his hand on the door on the right. ‘Boys,’ he whispered with a wink, ‘try not to get shot.’