“Demand?” J.C. exclaimed. “Don’t be ridiculous.” “Demand?” J.C. exclaimed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“They have the list.”

“W-w-what?” the assistant stammered.

“It’s true,” Barnes assured him. “Do you swear it?” he asked, turning to Sarah.

The young woman nodded.

“All right,” the old man said. “What are they demanding?”

“To end this here and now, and they won’t take any action. No more dead, no more wounded. Otherwise they’ll use all available means against us, putting the papers in the hands of public opinion.”

The old man’s breathing was getting more and more labored.

“There’s something here that doesn’t jibe.”

“What do you mean, sir?” the assistant asked.

“If the Vatican has the papers, why are they demanding that everyone be freed? That should be a matter of no importance.”

His reasoning was logical, but as the practical man that he was, he didn’t engage in speculation. The woman had deceived him. He wouldn’t have thought her capable of it. The Master decided to follow Sarah’s game, to see where it would lead. Perhaps this would prove more effective than torture.

“And if we go along?” the old man asked unenthusiastically.

“Everything will stay as it is. Nobody will lose anything. But they are insisting that the woman confirm to a Vatican messenger that they have been freed.”

“We shouldn’t accept, sir,” the assistant declared. “We can still recover the other papers.”

Sarah could see that they were undecided, and thought she had to do something to squash their doubts.

“The other papers are also on their way to the Vatican,” she lied.

“What did you say?” The Master’s frown grew even more intense, his suspicions more acute.

“I also sent the other papers to the Vatican,” Sarah repeated.

“But you said you couldn’t answer for them.”

The wretched old man’s got a good memory, Sarah thought.

“Of course. They’re not in my hands, nor have they gotten to the Vatican yet. Someone totally reliable was charged with taking them.”

“She’s lying,” the assistant said.

“We can’t take the risk,” Barnes warned.

“We run a much greater risk by not having the papers in our hands,” the assistant pointed out.

“The Vatican’s position is clear. If this ends here, the papers will remain stored in a safe place. Nobody will learn of their existence and, even more important, there will be no unfortunate consequences for any of the participants in this ill-fated operation.”

“Sir, give me two more hours and I’ll force the truth out of the older man,” the assistant said.

“Unfortunately we don’t have two hours,” Barnes retorted. “The woman has to meet the Vatican messenger at the Waldorf-Astoria in less than an hour.”

J.C. listened to all this without interrupting. It seemed that the best cards were in the opponent’s hand. There was only one thing left to do.

“May I have a few words with you in private?” Barnes asked the Master, interrupting his reflections.

“What did you say?” The Master was disconcerted. “Yes,” he finally answered, getting up with the help of his cane. “Let’s go out in the hall.”

Barnes followed the old man, who was still deep in thought.

“Did you confirm the source of the call?” he asked suddenly.

“I ordered it but don’t have an answer yet,” Barnes replied.

“Do you think it was credible?” A CIA man’s opinion counted, especially coming from a veteran like Barnes.

“It’s all quite strange. The Holy See doesn’t act that way, but it still could be true. It’s a bomb threat and we can’t risk having it explode.”

“While we wait for your men to confirm the authenticity of the call, we’re faced with an ultimatum from the Vatican.”

“Yes. I’m afraid we’re in a precarious situation.”

“Sure.” The old man returned to his thoughts. “It could be our salvation,” he said after a few moments of reflection.

“You think so?” The American didn’t seem very convinced.

“They have to meet the messenger at the Waldorf within an hour, right?”

“Yes.”

“Fine and good. We’ll try to regain the initiative. Take them where they need to go.”

“Are you sure?”

An icy stare showed the futility of the question. “Take them. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Will you disregard the ultimatum?”

“Of course not.” The old man’s mind was running at full tilt. “But it’s the only means of recovering the papers.”

“Are you thinking she didn’t send them to Rome?”

“Maybe the list, but not the rest.”

“What makes you think that?”

“All the evidence points to Marius Ferris, in New York. And here we are. We can confirm with total certainty that they haven’t put their hands on those papers since they got here. So they must still be here.”

Barnes thought it over for a few moments.

“And if you’re wrong?”

“If I’m mistaken, they’ll meet the messenger at the Waldorf, just a little behind schedule. Right now, it’s essential to get the documents. If she sent out the list, the only way to get it back is for us to get the rest of the papers in our hands.”

“What do you have in mind?”

As the two men talked, the assistant approached Sarah.

“You think you’re so clever, bitch?” he muttered, his mouth almost pressed against her ear. “If you manage to get out of here alive, remember that I’ll always be watching you. I won’t give you a moment’s peace.”

Sarah shuddered, but she knew that nothing depended on the man threatening her. The old man was the one in charge, at least up to now, because luckily the Vatican had entered the picture. The following minutes would be decisive. Nevertheless, she didn’t want to kid herself.

“And one day,” the assistant continued, “when you least expect it, I’ll get into your house, go straight to your bed, and wake you up.”

Shut up, asshole, Sarah said to herself, wishing she could say it out loud. But it was still best not to step on his toes. He could lose his temper and forget the Master’s orders.

Barnes and the old man reappeared with the same sullen look as when they left.

“Let them go,” the boss ordered.

“But sir—” the assistant tried to object.

“Quiet,” the old man cut him off, his voice showing renewed strength. “Let them go. And make sure she meets the messenger on time.”

The resigned assistant grabbed her roughly and dragged her toward the doorway.

Barnes kept looking down the hall, failing to notice the half smile on the old man’s face.

“Are you sure about this?” the CIA man asked.

“Completely. Relax. I’ll have control of the documents. It’s a matter of time.”

“But we have very little,” Barnes warned apprehensively. “And after that?”

“Once you have the papers, kill them all.”

Immediately he made a call on his cell phone.

“Francesco, Your Excellency, I need to ask you a favor.”