42

Robert leaned on the bedroom windowsill, fuming and frustrated.

Cardinal Maximilian’s revelation that Samuel had two identical brothers did nothing to quell his sense of urgency, but only increased his burning desire to rescue his godson right away. He understood the cardinal’s position and reasoning. Il Martello di Dio was at war with The Order, but that wasn’t his problem. The idea that Samuel was the Anti-Christ was ludicrous to him, no matter how the ten year old was conceived. Cloning or not.

He backed away from the window and sat down on the edge of the bed. The shooting in Father Tolbert’s room perplexed him. Outside of suicide, he wondered what could’ve happened right there in Vatican City. The more he mulled it over, his anxiety increased. If gunplay was now a part of the equation, then the entire situation would spin out of control very quickly, and the sooner he had Samuel in his arms, the better. His gut told him something bigger than they anticipated was involved, and they had better get out soon.

Robert heard the bedroom door open. Thorne, a smirk on her face, eased inside, closed the door, and leaned back against it. “Tsk, tsk,” she scolded, wagging her finger. “That was a bit rude, don’t you think?”

“Fuck’em,” he fired back. “My only concern is Samuel. The rest is bullshit as far as I’m concerned.”

Thorne sat down next to him, calm, her eyes sympathetic. “Cardinal Maximilian is right, you know. There’s more at stake here. We should make sure we get all three boys. It’s the right thing to do.”

“The right thing to do is to get my godson, then blow this place as fast as we can,” said Robert.

The softness on Thorne’s face dissolved a bit. “You’re upset, I understand, but you’re being selfish, Robert. If something happened to those other two boys, Samuel’s brothers no less, how will you live with yourself?”

Robert stood and walked back over to the window. He stared out for a moment at the lush valley and serene hills, then turned around, his eyes locked on his partner’s. “I’m prepared to accept the consequences. I just want my boy back. I owe Donovan that much.”

“You mean our boy, and we both owe Donovan. This isn’t just about you.”

“Then let’s cut the bull and go get him” snapped Robert, struggling to keep his voice low.

Thorne stood, her eyes stern. “What about Cardinal Maximilian?”

“What about him?”

“If not for him, we’d have no idea where to find Samuel. We owe him.”

Robert took a deep breath. “I understand, but I just don’t care.”

“What about Samuel?” shot Thorne. “They’re his brothers we’re talking about. What are you going to say to him if those boys die in The Order’s hands, and you could’ve saved them?” Robert paced the floor, head down. After several minutes, he stopped and faced his partner. “Get in touch with our contacts here in Rome. We need a three-man rubber watercraft, with oars and a silent motor, grappling hooks, two fifty-foot sections of rope, climbing gear, night vision goggles, and 9mm’s with silencers and infrared scopes.” Thorne just looked at him and shook her head. Robert moved close to her ear.

“Seventy-two hours,” he whispered. “I’ll give the cardinal’s people three days to find the other two boys. After that, you and I are going to approach the castle by water, scale the backside wall and get our boy back.”

Thorne smiled. “You a bad mutha, you know that? Agreed.”

“And this stays between us,” Robert added. Thorne nodded her consent.

There was a knock at the door. Father Kong apologized for the intrusion as he entered. “Cardinal Maximilian asked me to extend his apologies. He had to leave for the Vatican,” he said, his face serious and intense. “He also asked me to inform you of a new development.” Robert’s eyebrows raised. Now what? “Oh?” Father Kong stepped forward. “Alison Napier has just arrived in Rome.”