The Vatican Knights

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

The day had been a sweeping success for the FBI. And like a deprived addict the media consumed the details. The pope was taken to Massachusetts General Hospital to recuperate from a bronchial infection. His overall prospects for recovery were rated as excellent by his doctors. Once able to travel, he would then check into Gemelli Polyclinic in Rome for a follow-up. Beyond the lead story of the pope’s health were accounts of battles that procured the pontiff and the remaining bishops of the Holy See, all unharmed.

The Soldiers of Islam, however, weren’t as lucky as Shari Cohen of the FBI conducted a superior assault mission, in which the Incident Command System was well established and performed with military precision. The Command’s Ops Supervisor and Liaison Officer informed a special group of media members, discreetly predetermined by the president of the United States, that the Soldiers of Islam were eradicated. This, the media members were told, demonstrates to the world that terrorism will never gain a true foothold on American soil. The media went wild and unknowingly served propaganda as the main course of public news. This in turn served the government’s purpose of burying the real conspiracy involving the pope’s kidnapping and the true identities of the players involved.

On the surface Shari had picked up various snippets regarding Misters Paxton, Murdock and Pappandopolous — it all depended upon the source at the time. Mr. Paxton apparently took a post in the field office in the state of Oregon. But Shari knew the dark truth. This same dark truth applied with respect to the sudden retirement of George Pappandopolous, and of course, the unreported imprisonment to solitary confinement of Punch Murdock. There was absolutely no doubt in her mind that these players shared the same feared fate as Murdock, ending up in a grave in potter’s field.

The man known as Obadiah was never found. What was found, however, were several false walls and panels allowing for his escape, a contingency well thought out by the members of the Force Elite. One such panel on the first floor by the rubble led to the network of sewer lines beneath Boston’s numerous streets. Obadiah’s name was never mentioned to the media, but only within the smallest Washington circles. Leaks could prove deadly, so whoever spoke of him did so with caution.

Coincidental to all the positive news washing across television and reported in the major papers, America suffered the pangs of losing Vice President Bohlmer to a brain aneurysm, an imperceptible bubble along the arterial wall that finally erupted, somehow missed by physicians normally stellar in their tending of White House dignitaries. After three days of closed casket viewing within the rotunda of the Capitol Building, he was buried alongside his wife in California. Shari did not attend.

Kimball Hayden and the Vatican Knights had simply disappeared. Shari thought of him often during her trip back to D.C. When she returned to the archdiocese, she learned from Cardinal Medeiros that since the threat to her family was over, they were gearing up for the return home. The cardinal didn’t mention Kimball to her at all, nor did she dare ask.

Upon her arrival home, Gary was cleaning up from the mess left by the skirmishes. When they first laid eyes on each other they simply stood quietly, as if evaluating one another to glean each other’s secrets.

And then it came to them in a symbiotic rush. There was nobody else for them, nobody. And for a long time she hugged Gary hard, a reaffirmation of her love for him, something that eluded them for months. And though Gary thought she might crush his ribs, his return hug was just as affirming.

They had rediscovered each other while standing on the threshold of Death’s doorway.

After Shari was granted time at home to relax, FBI Director Larry Johnston called her to the downtown office to confront her on a few issues. Most notably he wanted to know who her CIRG Team was, since all valid members had been accounted for at Quantico at the time of the assault.

When she arrived at the office the director closed the door behind her and gestured for her to take a seat in front of his desk.

“You look good,” he told her, his tone congenial.

“Thank you.”

He examined a few documents before placing them on the desktop before him. “These are the documents by the Planning Ops Chief from the Incident Command Post.”

Shari wanted to roll her eyes. Here it comes.

“None of your team checked out with the Incident Commander for accountability when they completed duty, which is against ICS protocol.”

“I wasn’t aware of that,” she lied. She realized Johnston knew it as well.

“I’d also like to know who your squad was, since everybody who made up the Strike Force Team was accounted for at Quantico during the time your assault against the Force Elite commenced.”

Shari remained composed and quiet. Johnston seemed almost fatherly as he addressed her with a wry grin. “As a First-Team Assault Unit, they were fabulous in clearing the stage for the rest of the team’s maneuvers, perhaps saving a lot of lives considering who they were up against.” And then with a measure of gratitude he said, “I’m proud of you, Shari. The Bureau, the president — you’ve made this agency shine. And for that we are all proud.”

“Why… thank you.”

He picked up the papers. “The assault from beginning to end took less than eight minutes from the moment your team struck first, until the takeover by the Ground and Air Support Units. There were no casualties or injuries on our side — a job well done.”

“Eight minutes?”

“Eight minutes,” he confirmed.

“It seemed much longer than that.”

“Being on the front lines — I‘m sure.”

She diverted her attention to the papers he was holding. “What else does the report say?”

He placed them back on the desk. “Nothing damaging… that’s for sure.” He paused before posing the next question. “So are you going to tell me who they were?”

Shari could only stare while her mind searched frantically for an answer. Then without so much as a quaver in her tone, “I can’t.”

Johnston’s face remained passive despite her inability to confide in him. “You know I should be admonishing the hell out of you for doing what you did. But I can’t argue the outcome of the situation. Despite the lack of protocol regarding the ICS, I’m going to send this report to the attorney general, who I’m sure will agree with the recommendation that your efforts be recognized. You and your team did a nice job, Shari. There are a whole lot of people who are really proud of what you did.”

Shari was beyond relief. “May I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“Abraham Obadiah… Are we going after him?”

Johnston’s features became guarded. “No.”

Shari couldn’t believe what she just heard. “But this is the man who started all this. He tried to start a war—”

He cut her off by raising his hand. “Abraham Obadiah apparently doesn’t exist; at least that’s the viewpoint of Mossad, the Israeli government, and the attaché. We’ve already checked, even though we believe him to be a major player in Mossad’s Lohamah Psichlogit Department. However, these agencies are admitting nothing. So whoever this guy is, he’s obviously a powerful person whom they apparently want to keep away from the watchful eyes of other nations, including our own.”

“So we’re just going to sweep this under the rug?”

“And what do you suppose we do? Risk dredging up a conspiracy that could have buried this country in the eyes of our allies — of the world? I don’t think so. If this man surfaces again, we’ll handle it. Until that time, we’ll continue to work with our allies in a positive way. If they say this man doesn’t exist, then he doesn’t exist. Is that clear?”

She sighed. “Yes, sir, very.”

“Then have a good day.”

Shari got up from the chair and thanked the director.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he said. The smile returned to his face. “You have a special engagement to attend to this afternoon.”

“An engagement?”

“The pope is being released from the hospital today. And he has requested a personal meeting with you prior to his plane leaving. I believe he wants to thank you for what you’ve done, which is an engagement most of us would envy.” He returned to the paperwork on his desk. “Your plane leaves for Boston in about an hour.”

“But…”

“Don’t worry,” he said. “You’ll be back in plenty of time to be with your family.”

For a moment her heart hitched inside her chest. Would she get another chance to see Kimball and say goodbye? She at least wanted that privilege, to tell the man how much she truly respected him, and that their courses were taking them in two separate directions. She just wanted to say goodbye to someone whom she would never see again.

“If I were you, Shari, I wouldn’t miss the opportunity of a lifetime.”

She thanked Johnston once again and didn’t have to be reminded a third time that a plane awaited.