The Iscariot Agenda

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

“Job has returned to us,” said Cardinal Vessucci, as he made his way across the papal chamber.

Pope Pius looked drawn and pale, his features hanging more than usual. With a beckoning hand he called the cardinal over to a vacant chair next to his, a couple of snifters of cognac on the table between them. “How are you, my good friend?”

Vessucci knew that the pontiff was dying by the inches; therefore, he refused to comment on the appearance of his physical state. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help feel the pang of sorrow for his close friend. “I’m well, Amerigo. Thank you.” He took the seat next to the pope, a snifter of cognac already poured for him.

“Thank you for coming,” said Pius, lifting the small glass. “Please, enjoy with me.”

The cardinal lifted the glass, motioned it forward in salutation, and sipped from it before gingerly placing the glass back on the table. “We’ve yet to find Joshua and Ezekiel,” he told him. “And most likely we’ll simply have to wait until they return in a few days. So I’m sorry to say that Kimball will have to make do with what he has.”

“Any news on his front?”

The cardinal nodded. “Just that he’s working in collusion with the Hardwick brothers.” Neither man commented on the savage characters of the Hardwicks after reading their dossiers proffered to them by the SIV. But most likely they were thinking the same thing: Kimball Hayden was not in a good place. The Hardwick brothers were as cruel and vile as the assassin who was hunting them. And both men had to wonder if Kimball would fall back into the mold of what he used to be, or grow into the man they wished him to be. “He’ll be fine,” the cardinal added without conviction.

But the pope could see right through his friend with incredible insight and noted that the cardinal’s concern was equally as grave as his own. The pope feigned a smile. “I know,” he said, his conviction just as weak.

“But I am concerned about one thing,” he added.

The pope waited.

“If Kimball does not conclude this matter in the States, then he’ll most likely bring this private war of his to the Vatican.”

“Then we will be prepared,” said the pope. “If Kimball fails in his mission to neutralize the situation, then consider it a blessing that he has the ability to return to us at all.”

“Still, a war is a war.” The cardinal reached for his cognac. “And there is another matter of concern, I’m afraid.”

“You would be talking about the good cardinals Marcello and Angullo, yes?”

Vessucci nodded, sipped from his glass. Then: “There are statements from very reliable sources that the good Cardinal Angullo is campaigning on behalf of Marcello in return for some kind of recompense, should Marcello be elected to the papal throne.”

“Campaigning for the throne is one thing, Bonasero. Politicking for favors to obtain something on a personal level is something altogether different. Cardinal Marcello is well aware of this and will not fall into dark ambitions.”

The cardinal leaned forward in his chair. “Good men are often blinded by ambition, Your Eminence. You know that. Now I’m not saying that Cardinal Marcello is corrupt — not at all. What I am saying, however, is that any man who wants something bad enough will justify anything in order to accomplish his goal. And that includes setting aside morals for what he believes to be the better good for all.”

“I’ve known Cardinal Marcello for many years,” he said. “As ambitious as he is, I truly believe that he would never devalue himself in any way.”

“Devalue or not, that is why men are men; they make mistakes. And if the rumblings are true, if Angullo is truly persuading his camp to follow Marcello’s for the sake of personal enrichment, then the Vatican Knights will be no more should he be elected to the post.”

Pius looked toward the windows and mulled this over. “Are you sure of your sources?”

“Some are from Angullo’s own camp; people with concerns.”

“Then perhaps I should speak with Cardinal Marcello about his misplaced ambitions, if this is the case.” The pontiff then laid his glass down on the tabletop and labored to his feet, then in a shuffling gait made his way toward the windows that overlooked St. Peter’s Square. “None of us can afford to lose our way,” he finally said, watching the masses moving along the Colonnade. “The Vatican Knights are a valued component to the safety of our citizenry abroad. Without the Knights, without Kimball, I wouldn’t be here myself, especially after what happened in the States and aboard Shepherd One. They are essential to the needs of the Church.”

“But Marcello will not see it that way. And if he is elected to the throne…” He let his words trail.

The pontiff nodded. “Send word that I want to see Cardinal Marcello immediately,” he said.

Vessucci got to his feet, clasped his hands together in an attitude of prayer, then bowed his head. “I will do so immediately, Your Holiness.”

And then he was gone.