Echoes Through the Vatican: A Paranormal Mystery (The Echoes Quartet Book 2) (19 page)

The veins in Julian’s neck were distended and his breath came in short gasps. He turned his eyes on Cardinal Luciano. He only had one thought. Murder.

Julian watched as his friend, Fr. Soski, crumpled under the force of Luciano’s latest attack.

“No.” Julian hissed as his world went white. His attack was stunning in its complexity and Julian watched the cardinal’s face as it went from incomprehension to a black rage. Electricity crackled and stung. The room constantly moved between an oppressive darkness and blinding light. Crashing, exploding, parried, dissipated, absorbed balls of energy moved around the room like lightning.

He continued to close on the cardinal. Julian was a daylight nightmare. His was a hatred-fueled vehemence, his face was a map of malice. Julian wanted to be as close as possible when the cardinal was destroyed.

The cardinal was thrown against a wall of porcelain vases, picked up and thrown again. His senses were addled, his eyes were taking longer to focus after each attack and he knew his mind was bending under Julian’s assault.

Julian glanced at Soski. The priest was on his knees, doubled over in pain. Luciano used that moment to strike with everything at his disposal.

The room went suddenly alive with rippling, high voltage heat. The priest fell to the ground while Julian was thrown over a leather couch. Both men were dazed and both knew they would not be able to withstand another onslaught. They lay panting, unable to focus for several moments.

Enrico had been pushed back against a wall, still within reach of his inspector. He gathered his senses and looked at the cardinal. The prelate was badly battered and bleeding, his left arm hung limply at his side, and his right leg wouldn’t support his weight. But he was not beaten. Not yet.

Julian struggled to gain his footing and stood. He was greatly diminished, but iron willed. Fr. Soski was unable to rise at all.

Julian felt the cardinal’s scorching hot fingers close around his mind. The pain was excruciating, blinding, and slowly squeezing the life out of him.

Enrico reached for his sidearm. The holster was empty, the weapon lost in the attack when he entered the room. He saw Julian rise. The sergeant looked at the face of his inspector, closed his eyes, said his goodbye and reached for her Beretta 9mm. He stood, squared his shoulders and, with effort propelled by revenge and revulsion, stood over his partner’s body.

Julian closed his eyes and as he opened them, he could see only one thing – the cardinal, a rabid animal that needed to be put down. The cardinal and Julian felt each other build one last burst of energy, one last attack. Julian thought, and Luciano felt the words,
“I may lose, I may die, but it is you who will beg for death. For all those you’ve maimed, all you’ve killed.”
The discharge of energy scythed the air in a narrow band of glowing heat.

The exchange threw each man in the air and against opposite walls. Both tried to rise. Both tried to gather the last of the energy that animated each of them.

Julian’s ears rang, he tasted blood and every joint ached. His legs were numb and would not answer his commands. He slumped back and rose again. His energy signature was nearly gone, he could feel his mind straining while trying to maintain some of itself and hold the cardinal off.

Luciano lay crumpled in front of his desk. He felt the edges of his mind collapsing after Julian’s assault, an assault that was weakened but had not abated. He knew the full force of Julian’s attack would come soon. His own had to come sooner.

He struggled to his feet and saw Julian unprotected and exposed. Dragging his leg and leaning heavily to one side, the cardinal approached Julian. It was time to end this uncooperative and dangerous American’s life.

The cardinal’s legs were knocked out from under him and he hissed one word. “Soski.” He turned his attention to his former assistant and struck. The weakened priest was flung aside and crashed into a bookshelf and did not move again.

The cardinal made it to his feet first, but Julian was fast behind him. Regardless of condition, everyone in the room was thunder struck when they heard the words.

“I will see you in hell,” Enrico said in an even voice. “Godetevi il viaggio.” Enjoy the ride.

The first shot was deafening and struck the cardinal in the lower torso. It was followed quickly by two additional shots. Any of the three shots could have killed the man, but Enrico had pulled them. He wanted the cardinal to know, to understand, to suffer.

Luciano was at a loss. He couldn’t sense the man who was standing only a few feet away and about to kill him. He looked down and saw the contrasting dark blood ooze from his chest onto his crimson cassock. His pectoral cross was blood spattered. He reached out his hand to fend off his executioner. The energy he produced was like static electricity. Nothing more potent would come.

Enrico, standing over his partner’s body, looked down at her placid and pale face. “For you,” he said with tenderness. He snorted in derision at the cardinal. Enrico looked into the man’s gray eyes, saw the look of incomprehension on his face, and waited for it to turn to terror. When it did, the sergeant squeezed off two more rounds.

Antonio Cardinal Archbishop Luciano died as the last bullet exploded his heart. Enrico knelt and placed Bella’s weapon in her hand, lovingly curling her fingers around the grip, slipping her finger inside the trigger guard. The sergeant walked the few feet to the cardinal’s body and spat onto the face of evil.

Julian’s ears rang. He’d watched the sergeant squeeze off two rounds. He saw the recoil, but could hear nothing. The heavy smell of burnt gunpowder was the last conscious memory Julian had before blackness overwhelmed his senses.

“Mrs. Bragonier, this is Fr. Soski. I am a friend of Julian’s. He has spoken of you often and always with great affection. He gave me your number in case something should happen to him. Something has happened.” The priest’s voice was strained and laced with exhaustion.

Bridget’s voice was even and calm as she dug her fingernails into the palm of her hand to control herself. “Father, it is good of you to call.”

“Mrs. Bragonier, first, let me say Dr. Dwyer is with Julian at hospital. The doctor is unharmed. However, I cannot speak to Julian’s condition. I will be going to see him as soon as possible. I will ask Dr. Dwyer to call you with a medical update right away,” Fr. Soski said.

Bridget was making a conscious effort to control her breathing and her thoughts. Her voice trembled only slightly when she said, “Although I thank you, this is not the reason for your call. How can I be of assistance?”

“As you mentioned to Julian, there has been a very dark shadow over this entire affair. I feel that has lifted. Would I be correct in this?” the priest asked and choked back a cry as pain coursed through him.

“Indeed, the shadow is gone or nearly so. There are things I can see clearly, but much is still obscured. I feel that will clear soon, however,” she said.

“It is difficult for me to speak and my time is brief. I need you to pull a story from my mind. Is such a thing possible?” the priest asked and continued. “I would not normally ask such a thing, but circumstances make it necessary.”

Fr. Soski continued, “There are things I need Julian to know and I fear I won’t be able to tell him myself.

“I am sorry to disturb you, but I believe you are the only one whom I can trust with this. You, dear lady, are the only one Julian will believe. Can it be done?”

Bridget thought for a moment. “Fr. Soski, what you suggest may be feasible, but I have never heard of it being done.” Another moment passed as the seed of an idea took root. “Still, all things are possible if we are game to have a go. If we fail, it will not be from lack of trying. Are you in a place where you can enjoy some privacy?”

“I am. My office is secluded and no one will interrupt,” the priest said with a wry and weary smile.

“Good, then hang up the telephone and let us begin,” Bridget said.

***

For over an hour, Fr. Soski thought through recent history as though Bridget was sitting across from him in his office.

Bridget bit her lip as she felt the priest’s story unfurled in her mind. The tale he told was appalling, but each sentence was drenched in the suffering Fr. Soski was enduring in order to tell it.

She rested her head on the back of her sitting room chair. The priest rolled out a story of nearly impenetrable complexity.

“Father,”
Bridget began when the priest had finished his rendition of events,
“you may depend I will tell Julian all that you have said. I, however, would like to clarify a few points. I look for this clarification not for myself, but because Julian is sure to ask. If I may?”
Bridget said.

The priest took a slow shuddering breath and thought, “
Of course
.”

“If I understand, Cardinal Luciano, embezzled hundreds of millions of dollars from the Vatican Bank.

“The cardinal was also a member of a shadow organization, one of whose members, you believe, is also one like us. Julian had suggested such a thing a day ago.
” Bridget paused and then continued with a thought. “
Father, I must tell you, although I believe you, what you suggest is a thing that is inconceivable.”

“I agree,”
Fr. Soski said simply.

“I would like to make sure I have followed your story accurately. Cardinal Luciano was a dupe, a pawn. You suspect members of this dark organization used his thefts as a diversion, drawing attention away from a far larger embezzlement.

“The cardinal kidnapped Dr. Dwyer and was able to hide her from the organization, from Julian, from all of us. Without the doctor for leverage, the organization was unable to co-opt Julian, but the cardinal believed he could. Do I have the essence of this?”
Bridget asked.

“Madam, you are letter perfect. Thank you for this. I know it has been taxing for you. However, Julian may never know the truth of it, but for you.

“Mrs. Bragonier,”
the priest picked his thoughts with care.
“Although truthful with you, I was not altogether candid.”
He swallowed hard as the pain racked his frail body. Bridget reacted to his pain.
“As I said, I have not seen Julian yet, but I must warn you, you will find him greatly changed as a result of his encounter with Cardinal Luciano.”

“I understand,”
Bridget said.
“From what you have said, it would be impossible to be otherwise.”
Bridget could sense the priest’s pain as a sudden, prolonged cough tore at him.

There was a long pause as the priest tried to catch his breath in short gasps.

“Dear lady,”
Fr. Soski began.
“You are all Julian said you are. Please, take care of him. I feel he will need a great deal of assistance. There are specialists who…”

Bridget interrupted,
“Father, I understand completely. I know such an individual and he will be available when Julian returns to us.

“You may trust,” she continued. “He has many, many people here who care deeply for him. His recuperation is what is most important now. The love of those he knows will go a very long way to restoring him.”

“Thank you.”
The priest was deathly tired. There was nothing else to say. He paused and then said, “
Mrs. Bragonier, go with God. Goodbye
.”

The connection was gone.

***

At the approach of Fr. Soski, Ailís disengaged herself from the Italian doctors at Hospital San Pietro where Julian had been brought. The priest looked gaunt and unnaturally pale. Each breath was labored and his milky gray eyes were pinched in pain. The priest rubbed the back of his neck in an effort to dissipate the pressure.

Ailís looked up into a face haunted by pain and suffering. She saw a man full of regret and sadness, a man sick at heart.

Fr. Soski took her hands in his. “Doctor, may I see Julian, please?” the priest whispered, simply, kindly.

Ailís hesitated only a moment then said, “This way, Father,” but the priest did not move.

“I can feel it in you, Doctor. Tell me what is wrong. Beyond the obvious, what troubles you?” Soski asked and resumed walking with slow shuffling steps to Julian’s room.

Ailís thought for a moment. “Father, I must warn you, Julian is nearly catatonic. He will not speak, not even to me. He will not react to any kind of stimuli. You’re one of them, you’re like Julian. You can reason with him.”

Soski smiled gently and said nothing.

“Father,” Ailís stopped in the hospital hallway in front of Julian’s door, “if you can, you must convince him to...” She looked into the priest’s face, pleading.

“Convince him to come back to you, Doctor?” Fr. Soski asked in sympathy with her. “I will do my best. My fear is that it may not be enough, but I will try.” The priest pushed the door open, but turned back to Ailís and placed his hand on her cheek. “Please know this. Julian loves you above all else. He was willing to do horrifying things if it would guarantee your safety. There was never a moment when you were not in his thoughts. It will always be so.”

The priest’s face softened. “You want him back the way he was. Doctor, that is impossible. All of us have been changed by what we have lived through. It is the way of all life, no? We each have been wounded by this, you included. In time, both you and he will survive, I feel certain of it.”

Fr. Soski paused, then continued with a thought. “
Unlike others, my talents do not include seeing the future. But I will tell you this, your love will endure. Know it, feel it with every atom inside you.

“Julian will always be a part of you as you will be with him. It was your capacity for love that attracted you to each other. It is your love that will hold you fast.
” He turned and entered Julian’s room.

She looked at the floor before taking a shuddering breath.

Julian stood with his back to the window. His eyes locked onto those of his friend when he entered.

“Julian, my time is short. There are things you must know,”
the priest thought and his friend felt it.

Julian closed his eyes and the priest felt the ache in Julian’s mind, in his soul.

“Luciano had to be stopped, but we assigned an importance to him that blinded us to other dangers. I will take responsibility for that,”
Fr. Soski said and went on.
“The Group has refreshed its coffers with another stolen fortune.”

The priest’s face twisted into a grimace as pain tore though his body. Panting from the spasm, he continued.
“I spoke with Mrs. Bragonier. She says what I suggest, what you and I know, is not possible. I believe she is incorrect. The Group is headed by one of us, protected and nurtured by one, perhaps more of us.”
Fr. Soski swallowed hard and tried to breathe deeply. The racking cough served only to shorten each breath further.

The priest looked up at his friend. Julian’s thought was weak, but the words were unmistakable.

“Cardinal Manning,”
Julian thought and Fr. Soski nodded. Julian continued, “
Bridget said she couldn’t get through the darkness obscuring all of this.
”

“
Julian
,
Manning was the darkness, is the darkness, and that is how you will find him.” Fr. Soski said. “For now, Manning has gone to ground with a fortune. The total loss is estimated at nearly a billion including the millions he took from what Luciano embezzled.

“The Vatican Bank is scrambling. With luck, and if it can call in enough favors, it will not collapse. If it does, millions of people and institutions will be wiped out. That would ripple through the worldwide economy. Chaos is the only result possible. Chaos is their objective, Julian.”

The priest allowed Julian to absorb what was said.
“Had they more time - a papal assassination would have allowed that - more funds would have been stolen. That would have ushered in a new dark age. By stopping them, you have frustrated their aims. This will neither be forgotten or forgiven.”

The men stood in silence, each with their own thoughts. Fr. Soski guided Julian to his hospital bed. A knock was heard at the door and Ailís looked into the room. “Father…”

“I am nearly done.” His smile was sardonic and sad. “A few moments more please.” The door closed silently.

“
Julian, I must be going, but I have something else that needs to be said.

“You blame yourself for this. Don’t do this my friend. Don’t punish yourself by cutting yourself off. The people around you, the people who love you are a lifeline. They are the way back. By turning them away, you will surely lose your way, lose yourself.”
Soski moved closer to his friend.

“I have been where you are, further in some ways. I have had my mind nearly destroyed as you have. I have had my body broken. I feel I can say I know where you are. Stay where you are and you will be lost, my friend. Lost to us. Lost to yourself. Think carefully before you take your next step. It may be irrevocable.

“Remember too, if you can keep to nothing else, the love you have for Ailís and hers for you is vital. Even if it is whittled away to the merest splinter, you must hold on to it. It may be your only way back.”

Fr. Soski could feel it. Julian would find his way back, but it would be the hardest, most painful way possible. Julian’s friend smiled his sad understanding, turned and left.

***

“Father?” Ailís called after the priest as he left Julian’s room. “Tell me.”

“Doctor, there will be a long road back for him,” the priest rasped with effort.

“I am afraid he is in a place you cannot go. You can lay hands on him, but you cannot touch him. None of us can. He is an ocean away from us all. He has endured so much, Doctor. More than that, he sees himself as being responsible for a great many deaths. Although painful for us, he believes by shutting himself off, he is sparing us his suffering. By removing himself, he believes he is protecting the ones he loves.”

Ailís began to speak, but Fr. Soski overrode her with a glance.

“He is wrong in all of this, of course, but he will have to learn that in his own way, in his own time.” The priest took out a handkerchief and began a racking cough. Ailís became alarmed when the man took his now bloodied handkerchief away from his mouth.

“Father, you must come with me now.” She took the sleeve of his overcoat, but the priest just smiled.

“For now, dear Doctor, your place is with him. Stay awhile. He may not acknowledge you; in fact he won’t, but you need to stay with him,” Soski said. “It is my hope, you and Julian live long and happy lives. Go with God.” He laid his hand on her head and she crossed herself as he prayed.

Fr. Marek Soski turned and left her at Julian’s door.

She entered and sat at the bedside with what was left of the man she loved.

***

A portly man in his late sixties with sharp features, green eyes and slate gray hair looked into the mirror and adjusted his tie. He brushed at the shoulders of his blue pinstripe suit coat and smiled a crooked smile at his reflection.

He called over his shoulder to his protégé and continued to inspect himself. “Are we ready, Mr. Clarke?”

Clarke didn’t answer at first. He continued to look out the window of the second floor bedroom in a sedate home in the heart of Old Rome. He looked into the side yard with its brickwork patio, wrought iron furniture and park like setting. “I think I shall miss this place,” he said.

The older man took one last look into the mirror. He smiled as he watched his green eyes flicker slightly and gradually change to piercing gray.

“We really cannot call you ‘your Eminence’ anymore,” Mr. Clarke said and smirked. “And Mr. Manning is just not on. Consul isn’t an especially good idea either.”