In a dark room in the heart of the Vatican, Luca sat quietly with his superior, His Beatitude Metropolitan Justinian, the leader of the Templars, and the Sentinel, the head of the Order of the Holy Relic. Heavy purple drapes framed the stained-glass windows, adding to the richness of the gold-leaf covered walls. This was an unprecedented meeting, one which Luca had never in his imagination expected to be participating in. Justinian held up a plump hand to underscore his point.
“Diego Luca, no man other than the Sentinel and whoever occupies my office has ever known the full story of the Scroll, or its significance. It is therefore with trepidation that I take you into a confidence that extends to only His Holiness, and the two of us. It goes without saying that you may never share your knowledge with anyone, no matter what the circumstances. You must take it with you into eternity.”
Luca nodded, afraid that his voice would betray his emotions.
The Sentinel leaned forward, holding Luca with an iron stare.
“The Scroll contains a secret that the papacy had always believed could bring down or forever change the Church. The author of the document believed it could destroy us if it was known, and that its possessor could literally control the Church with the threat of its exposure,” the Sentinel explained.
“What is the secret?” Luca asked, painfully aware of time slipping away.
“That’s the problem. Nobody is sure,” Justinian admitted.
“What?” Luca didn’t understand.
“It is why we have kept the Scroll throughout history and guarded it so jealously. The friar who wrote it originally did so in a cypher of his own devising that was so foolproof nobody has ever been able to unravel it. We know from his statements that he had come into possession of information about something he referred to as the Divine Light, but whatever that was went to the grave with him. Some who have held my office believed that it was the Holy Grail. Others speculated it was something even more precious, beyond imagination, perhaps a gospel written by Jesus himself. All of this was speculation. The friar is dead, and he died without disclosing it to anyone as far as we know.”
“Then the secret…is what the Divine Light actually is?” Luca didn’t understand.
“Yes. And no. Not what. Where.”
Luca looked from one man to the other. “Where?”
The Sentinel nodded. “The secret of the Scroll is where the Divine Light is hidden. The location. And the friar believed that whatever this enigma was would prove so sensitive for the Church that it could never be revealed — but being of a scientific disposition, he also didn’t want it to be lost forever, as had been the case with so many other pieces of knowledge through time. He created what is known as the Voynich Manuscript to hide the knowledge. It was only from one of his followers that the Church learned that the secret was written in quire 18 — the Holy Scroll.” The Sentinel cleared his throat. “Once that was understood, the Pope, Nicholas V, in 1453 created The Order to safeguard the Scroll until such time as it could be translated and the secret identified. Remember that the history of the Church has been filled with rivalry and power struggles, so Nicholas decided that a separate, secret guardian needed to keep watch, unknown to anyone but a trusted few.”
Justinian continued where the Sentinel left off.
“The Scroll is the only record of the location of this Divine Light, which inspired both fear and curiosity at the time — but times have changed since the 1200s, and what might have destroyed a religion then could turn out to be a pillar of faith now. We, as an organization, are chartered with ensuring the Scroll never sees the light of public exposure, but we are fascinated with what the Divine Light might be. If it is the Grail, it could breathe new life into the faithful during a time of waning passion. If it were a new gospel it would revitalize religion, rather than create upheaval as it might have done eight centuries ago. What might have been blasphemous in the friar’s age, we now seek to understand through modern eyes.”
Luca nodded again, suddenly understanding. “If Cross has decrypted it, discovering what he knows is almost more important than the Scroll itself.”
The Sentinel offered a wan smile that chilled Luca’s marrow.
“As you say, there is nothing more important than regaining possession of the Scroll — except learning what Cross knows. If he has truly decrypted the document, we must find out what the Divine Light is at all costs and also take it into our possession so His Holiness may decide how best to proceed. But even as the Church has changed, human nature has not, so there will always be factions that would use any knowledge to further their own ends. This cannot be allowed to happen in this case. Hence, the only people who can know of this are myself, His Beatitude Metropolitan Justinian, His Holiness, and now…you,” the Sentinel finished.
Justinian cleared his throat. “Diego Luca, it is not common knowledge, but I am ill. My days are numbered and a successor must be appointed. You are to be that successor, so the knowledge being shared with you is merely premature rather than inappropriate. Within a year, you will be the head of the Templars and will be required to work side by side with the Sentinel to protect the secrets of the Church from enemies without and within. That includes the Holy Scroll, and soon, if providence has shined upon us, the Divine Light.”
Luca was overcome, momentarily speechless.
The Sentinel sat back and made a series of arcane gestures in Luca’s direction with his liver spotted hand, then spoke his final words of the meeting.
“You are hereby granted whatever powers you require, including the full power of my office, and of that of His Beatitude’s office, and the Pope’s, to make whatever bargain or arrangement you believe is in the best interest of the Church, without exception. Your word or signature shall be the Church’s final say on the matter. We impart this to you in extraordinary circumstances because in the coming days you may be called upon to make remarkable decisions that will have permanent effect, and we do not wish you to do so with hesitation or fear of being overridden at a later date. In this matter, yours is the final say, and any amount of money, or property, or sacrifices you deem required, shall be yours to dispense as you see fit. But get the Scroll back, and if you can, get the Divine Light for us, so we can fulfill our destinies and put the era of uncertainty to an end.”
The two old men stood and walked around the small table. Luca kneeled before them and kissed the holy rings on their fingers.
“Good luck, my son. You carry on your shoulders the hopes and faith of the Church.”
“I won’t let you down.”
Steven felt Natalie warming up to the idea of handing off the problem to the Order. If they could negotiate something with the Order, their chances of surviving increased dramatically — mainly because they no longer had what Morbius Frank wanted, but also because the only thing more powerful than an angry homicidal billionaire was the full weight of the Catholic Church. With resources of that magnitude, they could disappear forever without having to worry, or at least they could worry a lot less.
Natalie agreed with his reasoning, although he could tell it went against her grain to capitulate. But the only scenario that made sense was for Steven and the Order to search for the secret together and make finding it a part of the deal. Then, the Church would have possession of everything and the impetus for viewing them as a threat would be nil. But they still needed to get some sort of leverage, just in case, and a plan was rolling around in his head. Perhaps there was a way to leverage Moody’s position to act as a prophylactic against future threats or backsliding on their deal.
Natalie’s phone rang during lunch; it was Moody, recently arrived in Venice and anxious to meet with them. They agreed to hook up at three o’clock, at one of the numerous small cafés on Saint Mark’s Square — the most populated landmark in Venice. After lunch, they ambled over to the rendezvous and watched Moody as he walked into the square. Natalie scanned the crowds to ensure he wasn’t being followed; after a few minutes of scrutiny, she went to greet him. Steven and Natalie had agreed to move to a more intimate café down one of the small side streets once they’d verified there was no tail. Steven followed them at some distance when they departed the large plaza bound for the new rendezvous spot.
Within a few minutes, they were all situated at a quiet table in a corner of the garden that served as the outdoor patio for the café. The waitress brought them their order, and once she’d departed, Natalie quickly summarized their situation. After hearing about the latest developments, Moody sat back and whistled.
“Wow. You don’t screw around, do you? You believe that Luca can be trusted?”
Natalie shook her head. “No. That’s why we need your help. You deal with this sort of thing all the time. What’s the best way to buy ourselves insurance so they can’t renege on the arrangement?”
Moody toyed with his cup, smiling at the question. “With all due respect, I don’t deal with this sort of thing all the time. You’re talking about how to get a guarantee with the Church on a bargain to return a stolen artifact. That doesn’t fall under my typical job description,” he said.
“What are you saying? Can you help us?” Natalie asked.
“You certainly don’t do things in half measures, do you? Christ. No offence, but this is as weird as anything I’ve heard of, and I’ve seen just about everything. But to answer your question, I can probably help keep you from getting killed in the process.”
“How would you lock them in if this was your op?” Steven asked.
“Well, I’d start with a meeting…and a recording,” Moody began, and then laid out precisely how to structure the rendezvous as well as the deal.
Steven’s respect level for Moody increased as he spoke in a low voice, describing the intricacies and emphasizing why certain things had to be done exactly as he described. Natalie was engrossed, and it was clear he was an expert in his field. She’d certainly gotten the right ally.
Whatever Steven’s sentiments about the man, by the end of their encounter it was clear he knew his trade cold.