The Vatican Knights

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

Murdock lay in a hospital bed. The lower portion of his leg had been removed just above the knee with the stump bandaged and elevated. Although under the haze of pain killers, Murdock was barely cognizant. “You have to protect me,” he said lazily. “You know they’ll be coming for me.”

Shari went to the bedside and stood with her arms folded, her body English that of little remorse for the man who lay before her. In fact, she tried to kill him; it’s just that she was never much of a sharpshooter.

“Who?” she asked. “Who’s coming for you?”

His eyes wandered until they settled on her. “Oh… it’s you.”

“That’s right. It’s me. Who’s coming for you?”

FBI Director Larry Johnston moved in behind her.

“Them,” Murdock said, “whoever is left of Omega Team — the Force Elite. Whoever is left under the command of Yahweh.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Johnston.

“The cause,” he said above a whisper. In his condition the effort was equal to yelling.

“You’re talking about the pope’s kidnapping?”

His eyes rotated back to her. “I’ll give you whatever you want,” he told her. “But I want a deal.”

“No deal,” said Johnston.

Murdock rolled his head on the pillow and stared at the ceiling.

“Were you there that night the Secret Service detail was murdered at the Governor’s Mansion?” Johnston asked.

Murdock remained silent.

“What kind of deal are you looking for?” asked Shari.

Murdock fashioned a lazy smile. “That’s my girl,” he said. “I want clemency.”

“Impossible.” Johnston took the request as an insult.

“It’s your call, bonehead. But keep in mind that the pope’s life is hanging in the balance and you’re running out of time.”

Johnston, humbled, turned a deep shade of red. “You know we have to keep the Oversight Committee out of this.”

“I know that. All I’m asking is that I don’t end up in potter’s field once I give you what you need to know. In other words, don’t make me suddenly disappear.”

“And why should I give you the benefit of the doubt?”

“Because I’m a coward at heart,” he said. “That’s why.”

Johnston turned to Shari. Although the communication between them was silent, it was also as vociferous as if the exchange of ideas couldn’t have been louder. He turned back to Murdock. “Life in a military installation under solitary conditions,” he offered.

The corner of his lip twisted into a smile. “A courtyard,” he said. “I want a courtyard.”

Johnston knew the term didn’t refer to an actual courtyard, but a barred window offering a view of the grounds. He rolled his eyes and fought for calm. “Granted.”

“I have your word?”

“You have our word,” said Shari.

“Shouldn’t we notarize this or something?”

“Don’t get cute, Murdock. You got what you want.”

Murdock chortled in lethargic glee before falling into a coughing jag, and then he began in earnest to talk about the cause. He explained his role, his taking the moniker of Judas, and the Soldiers of Islam and their executions. He explained his responsibility at the Governor’s Mansion, of how he had drawn his detail into complacency and aided in their deaths by allowing Omega Team to breach security. At times he was graphic, other times evasive, but a picture was drawn and light cast upon the kidnapping of the pope. Situations and events were beginning to fall into order, and all led to principals on Capitol Hill, especially Yahweh.

“Is the president involved in this?” Shari asked. “Is he Yahweh?”

A mirthful grin surfaced. “Perhaps,” he said. “But that would be giving up the prize, now wouldn’t it?”

“You made a deal.”

“And so did you.”

“What more do you want?” asked Johnston.

“I’ll give you two names in good faith — two names who are the last line of defense for the cause who will be pressed into duty to take me out. Yahweh will no doubt send them forward to kill me to keep his identity safe.” Murdock had to labor to roll his head so he could look directly at Shari and Johnston. “You know what has to be done since you know that the courts will play no role in this… it’s always been the political answer to everything.”

“You’re asking us to take out two people?” asked Shari.

“Are you surprised?”

Johnston said nothing.

“You know what has to be done to keep the truth buried,” added Murdock.

“We don’t do that,” Johnston said. “Get your head straight.” But Johnston knew Murdock was correct in suggesting that those with damaging secrets are doomed to a short life. Shari, on the other hand, hadn’t worked long enough for the FBI to know of the possible existence of black op groups working within government agencies who conducted such tasks. The Force Elite was one such group. Were there more?

“Save my life,” he said, “and I’ll give up Yahweh. He’s the only one who can give you the location of the pope, since he’s the only one who actually knows where the pope is. The ball is now in your court.”

Johnston placed a hand softly on Shari’s shoulder and ushered her toward the door. “Give me a moment alone with him,” he told her. “Let me see if I can reason with him about what we want and assure him of his safety. I’ll have him moved to an installation immediately.”

“Don’t push him into a shell,” she demanded.

“I won’t. Trust me.” Once she was in the hallway, he closed the door.

“What’s the matter?” Murdock asked in snide accusation. “You don’t want her to know the truth?”

“No, I don’t. She’s a good officer with a good heart, which is more than I can say for you.”

“Bravo. So what is it you want to say to me that you couldn’t say in front of Girl Wonder there?”

“You know what I want.”

“You want names.”

“Exactly. And you know why?”

“To keep the deep, dark secrets of the good ol’ US-of-A out of the hands of those who couldn’t bear to hear them,” he said.

“The names.”

Punch Murdock looked Johnston in the eyes and saw nothing but conviction. He gave him two names that, judging by his grimace, seemed to wound Johnston. “That’s right. Pappandopolous and Paxton are the eyes and ears within the agency who report any red flags to Yahweh or Obadiah.”

Johnston’s features hardened. “This better pan out.”

Murdock’s head rolled lazily back so he was staring at the ceiling again. “It will,” he said. “It most certainly will.” And then he closed his eyes.

“I got one last question.”

Murdock’s eyes labored to open. His lids fluttered briefly then stabilized. “Go ahead.”

“Those men on the president’s detail — you knew them, and you knew them well, so how could you set them up?”

A dreamy smile washed over Murdock’s face. “For two reasons,” he said. “One was for the money. It’s always been about the money.” He seemed to drift. “I picked out a small island off the coast of Belize. A beautiful place you can only dream about. Sandy beaches, a beautiful view of the sunset.” His gentle repose turned to forced calm, the muscles in the back of his jaw suddenly working. “And now it’s gone,” he said. “All of it. My dreams, my life… everything.”

“How much money are we talking about?”

“You said one question.”

“I was mistaken. How much money?”

Murdock ran a dry tongue over even drier lips. “Ten million,” he managed. “That was to be wired to my account in Belize.”

Johnston had to wonder. “Where was this money coming from?”

“From the oil companies,” he said. “It was to be an upfront fee for services provided.”

“And your purpose was to infiltrate the Governor’s mansion and set the stage while the Force Elite went through the back door that you left unlocked for them, theoretically speaking?”

“You’re not as dumb as you look. But you’re ugly.”

“So what’s the second reason?”

Murdock shook his head. “It’s the rule of thumb for this city,” he said. “You know that.”

“Actually, I don’t. So suppose you enlighten me.”

Murdock sighed as if being burdened. “We do illegal things,” he started, “because we don’t think we’ll ever get caught. Ask any politician. They’ll tell you the same thing.” He raised his hand to reveal the handcuff that bound him to the bed rail. “And is this necessary? Do you really expect a one-legged man doped to the gills to get up and walk out of here?”

“You know the procedure.”

The standoff was long and silent, each man trying to read the thoughts of the other, their poker faces unreadable.

“You gave me your word,” said Murdock. “Life with a courtyard view.”

“And I’ll keep it, providing that what you gave me pans out. But I want Yahweh.”

Murdock’s features softened, then fell into a dismal appearance. His eyes and mouth took on the appearance of the Greek Mask of Tragedy. “And you’ll get him.”

Johnston remained impassive. “Just so you know,” he told him. “This agreement continues only as long as the pope is alive. If he dies, then there’s no point in keeping the bargain. If the bargain goes away, so does the man who wields the secret

— unless you want to tell me now who Yahweh is.”

Murdock nodded. “I’m trying to prove my loyalty to you by providing you with two names in good faith.”

“You’re doing it to save your pathetic life.”

Murdock had to agree. “Yeah, well—”

“Give me Yahweh.”

“I can’t. It’s my only leverage.”

For now, thought Johnston. There was no way Murdock was going to live once all information was gleaned. After that, the man was as good as dead regardless of whatever good faith deal he thought he had arranged. Murdock was simply buying time. For the most part, death was the panacea for all problems, the unwritten rule for those who have no chance of redemption in the eyes of the government. Murdock was a doomed man, and both men knew it.

“Have it your way, Murdock. If the pope dies—”

“Yeah-yeah, I know, so does the man who wields the secret. You already told me.”

Johnston exited the room and met Shari waiting in the hallway.

“I know why you made me leave,” she said.

“Really?”

“There’s truth in what he said, isn’t there?”

“About what?”

“About his concern of being taken out because he knows about the involvement of our government in this situation, and perhaps that information getting out to the world community.”

Johnston sighed. “Shari, the man has a viable fear because of the Force Elite. He sees this one organization and now all of a sudden the government is loaded with them. Don’t start looking in shadows for something that’s not there.”

“I looked in one shadow and found the Force Elite.”

“Yes, you did. And you did a fine job on this, believe me. You really made this agency shine. But don’t take the yammering of one insurgent and start believing that there are assassins hiding around every corner.”

“Then why did you make me leave?”

“I told you, so I could reason with him and assure him of his safety.”

“And you couldn’t do that while I was standing there?”

“Shari, you shot the man’s leg off! You think I can make a promise like that with you standing two feet away from him?”

Shari wasn’t convinced, but decided to drop it nonetheless. Deep inside she knew the truth — Murdock was as good as dead. All of a sudden she wasn’t so sure she wanted to be part of a government entity. Johnston picked up on this.

“Look,” he said, “it’s a big government in a big land with big responsibilities, okay? It’s not perfect and sometimes things have to be adjusted right, wrong or indifferent, and sometimes against moral idealizations. It may not be ideal; Shari, but you, I or any citizen in this country wouldn’t give it up knowing this is probably the best government in the world. And yes, the Force Elite is apparently active. And we’ll get to the bottom of that, but you have to understand that things like this will happen, and when they do, we’ll correct it.”

“And by correcting it, you mean by erasing somebody?”

“Of course. You know that something like the Force Elite can’t get out. But if you’re talking about Murdock, yes. What he knows could prove costly to this government and you know it. So again, yes. His erasure will come in the form of a lifetime sentence in solitary confinement in a federal pen until the day he dies,” he lied, and started to walk down the hallway with Shari in tow.

“Sir?”

He turned to her. “What?”

“Are you going to have Murdock killed?”

Johnston’s features didn’t flinch. “Absolutely not.”

He’s no different than those involved on either side, she considered. As far as she was concerned, they all shared the same core.

Without saying anything more, Shari exited through the door at the opposite end of the hallway.