The Serpent's Disciple Page 3
Angelo and Silvio looked at each concerned by the general’s attendance. Silvio whispered under his breath, “What’s he doing here?”
Miles away seated comfortably at his desk, Peter smiled to himself. He could hear every word being said.
“It’s good to see both of you,” said Orazio, not meaning a word of it.
General D’Amoto was not a large man but the men under his command did not question his authority. He spent most of his time listening and observing the people around him. He sensed that Angelo and Silvio were questioning his presence at the meeting.
More voices could be heard entering the room. They turned to see who else was attending the meeting.
In walked Vingenzo Parocchi, director-general of Banca Nazionale del Lavoro, the largest bank in Italy. Vingenzo was instrumental in all three of their lives. His financial backing was critical to their careers. Walking next to Vingenzo was Thomas. The two men were engaged in a heated discussion. A third man dressed in the unmistakable black cassock, with a red silk sash and the pectoral cross-suspended from a cord of scarlet and gold silk hung from his neck, listened in but said nothing. It was the newest initiate, Cardinal Franco Cavallari from the Vatican.
Cardinal Cavallari was head of the department at the Vatican that oversees religious congregations of men and women. The department was investigating the Legion of Christ and the sexual allegations and charges of the misuse of funds, by the founder of the order.
There were also allegations being directed against Pope Benedict XVII; that he knew of some of the wrongdoings and had done nothing about it. The scandal was seriously affecting the world’s view of the Vatican, if it was corrupt beyond repair.
Whatever Thomas and Vingenzo had been discussing had come to an end. They were now standing in front of the other three men who were already present in the room. Thomas now spoke to all five men.
“Gentlemen, thank you for rearranging your schedules. Everyone invited is now present, if you would please show me your proof of membership.”
Each man wore the same ring given to him upon becoming a member of P2. When rotated on the finger, it revealed what might be mistaken for a scar. At the end of each initiation ceremony and after the swearing of the oath, each new inductee received a tattoo of the head of a cobra.
“Thank you. Please take a seat and we will begin the meeting shortly. I must make one call before we start.”
He disappeared into the next room and closed the door quietly behind him.
Hundreds of miles away Peter’s phone rang, the screen showed it was Thomas.
“I see everyone has arrived. Have they each brought the materials I requested?”
“Yes, they have each presented me with a disk and hard copy as requested. The disks have already been put in the vault and an electronic copy has been sent to you. The hard copies will be used during the meeting then shredded afterwards,” added Thomas.
Peter continued, “Before the meeting commences remind them; although they are each in powerful positions, they are not to forget who placed them there.”
Thomas had been with Peter from the beginning as his propaganda minister and he knew not to disobey Peter Romanus. He had seen what happens to those who had over the years. He would not make the same mistake.
“They are all fully aware of the consequences if they break their oath, but I will remind them again of how they got where they are today. Everything is set on this end, are you receiving a clear satellite feed on your end?” asked Thomas.
“Yes, all the systems are running as planned. I am most interested in Cardinal Cavallari at this meeting. Please continue to monitor all the devices carefully.”
There was not an inch of the room that was hidden from view. The most advanced devices available had been installed. There were cameras even installed under the conference table and under each chair so the guests’ hands, legs, and feet could be viewed. Nothing would go unnoticed. There were sensors in each chair that would monitor the individual’s respiratory and cardiovascular responses. All the information would be sent directly to computer screens in Peter’s office to watch and be analyzed.
If they twitched Peter wanted to know how many times and for how long.
CHAPTER 11
The paternity test came back positive! Cardinal Donovan McKenna read, and then reread the slip of paper in front of him. Leaning back in his chair in disbelief, he glanced around at the beautifully decorated office he spent his days in. He never grew tired of standing at the window looking out at the Sistine Chapel and St. Peter’s Square.
What a blessed path God had chosen for him to journey down, becoming the Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF), the oldest of the nine congregations of the Roman Curia. Among the most active of the congregations, it oversees Catholic Church doctrine. Its offices are housed at the Palace of the Holy Office at the Vatican. As Prefect he receives all information first then discerns its level of importance and directs it to the appropriate person.
His ambition had never been to end up at the Vatican. He had become a priest at a later age than most. After graduation from Harvard Law School, he was lucky enough to get a job in the office of the Governor of New York. It was an exciting time in his life but something was missing for him. Unable to ignore it any longer he accepted that his true calling in life was to become a priest. He joined the seminary, one thing led to another and here he was Cardinal Donovan McKenna working for Pope Benedict XVI.
The last five years had not been easy with the ever-growing reports of sexual abuse by priests. He instinctively reached for the cross, which hung from a gold chain around his neck for comfort. Now with this morning’s latest information, once the news media got wind of it, who knows what the repercussions would be. The Catholic religion is not the only faith that has confronted such issues. That said, the cover up had been handled badly with no thought of the consequences if it ever got exposed.
Settlements of money were made to individuals and families. The offending priests were transferred out of the churches and many times moved to another with no disclosure to the new parish. This final revelation about a Father Marcial Maciel, the founder of the Legion of Christ Order and the Regnum Christi movement, could cause many to question if the Vatican had lost its way.
During Pope John Paul II’s reign Father Maciel was a very prominent figure in the church, appointed to various positions such as the Chancellor of the Pontifical Athenaeum Regina Apostolorum based in Rome and to the Ordinary Assembly of the Synod of Bishops on the formation of Candidates for the Priesthood in Actual Circumstances. He was a member of the Interdicasterial Commission for a Just Distribution of Clergy, the IV General Conference of Latin American Bishops (CELAM), the Synod of Bishops on Consecrated Life and their Mission in the Church and the World, the Synod of Bishops’ Special Assembly for America and since 1994 a permanent consultant to the Congregation for the Clergy.
The allegations were said to be false, but with this proof that he had fathered a child and other charges surfacing that he had acquired real estate and accumulated large sums of money, the lies were starting to unravel. Sadly, it was becoming evident that evil had slithered its way into all corners of the Church.
So lost in thought, Cardinal McKenna became aware of the increasingly loud knocking at the door by his assistant.
“Come in Robert.”
“I’m sorry to interrupt you Cardinal McKenna but your meeting with his Holiness is in thirty minutes. I thought I would remind you in case you needed to prepare.”
“Yes, thank you Robert. It was good you did. I lost track of the time.”
“Will you need me to get anything for you before your meeting?”
“No, I have everything prepared. Are there any calls I need to return before my meeting?”
“No, nothing more since this morning, are you expecting one? I can look into it if you wish.”
“No, thank you again Robert.” Donovan watched as Robert turned and quietly closed the door
behind him.
Getting up from his desk, Donovan walked over to the window and looked out onto St. Peter’s Square. Millions of the faithful have gathered in this holy square over the centuries. Now millions of the faithful were questioning the actions of the church and its leaders. He silently prayed for God’s guidance and blessings for the Pope and His Church.
In less than thirty minutes he would need to inform the Holy Father of the latest information. Would a single word on a sheet of white paper create a tidal wave that could destroy the papacy? He stared out the window and wondered what the future held.
CHAPTER 12
Nelli wanted to finish up what she was working on but was struggling to keep her eyes open. Resting her elbow on the arm of the chair and using her hand to support her head, she thought she’d rest her eyes for just a few seconds. Without warning her head flopped forward, she had fallen asleep and then realized her phone was ringing. Grabbing her purse and rummaging through it, not finding it she stopped to listen but there was only silence. Grabbing the landline, she called her cell phone and following the sound, found it underneath a pile of mail. As she was about to see who called, her home phone rang.
“Hey, I just tried calling you on your cell,” said Anthony.
“Sorry it was hidden under a stack of mail,” replied Nelli still ticked at herself for falling asleep.
“Just thought I’d check in with you, have everything pretty much taken care of on my end how about you?”
“Just working up some lesson plans, then was going to jump into bed. I haven’t been sleeping well.”
“We’ll only be gone a couple weeks Nelli. Your department will survive without Professor Andruccioli for two weeks.”
“You’re probably right. I just talked to Larry and he said the same thing. Well dear brother, I think I will read a little about Dad’s birthplace before I go to sleep. See what we shouldn’t miss when we visit. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Okay Nelli, try and get a good night’s sleep.”
Nelli put the phone back into its cradle and got into bed. She started reading about what to see while in Pesaro. One thing not to miss was the altarpiece by Giovanni Bellini housed in the art gallery of the Museo Civico in Piazza Toschi Mosca just off Via Rossini in the adjoining Pinacoteca.
Between 1471 and 1474 Pesaro’s ruling Lord Costanzo Sforza had commissioned the picture from the Venetian artist. The masterpiece called The Coronation of the Virgin was to be painted for the church now known as Madonna delle Grazie in Via San Francesco. The altarpiece situates the coronation not in some starry heaven but in the countryside around Pesaro dominated by the castle of Gradara.
Portraits of saints flank the central scene, ranging from the hesitant Saint Lawrence to the dreamy Saint Anthony. Below, scenes from the lives of the saints occupy the compartments across the base of the painting.
As Nelli continued to read she thought she heard someone say her name.
“That’s ridiculous, I’m the only one here,” she thought to herself.
Then she heard her name again.
“Antonella, come closer my dear.”
A man was waving her forward with his hand. He had the strangest garments on.
His clothes and hands were splattered with paint and he was standing next to a painting.
“I signorina, am Giovanni Bellini.”
As she looked at the painting it was the one she had just read about in the guidebook depicting the crowning of the Blessed Virgin Mary.
“You can’t be Giovanni Bellini; he lived in the fifteenth century!”
“That is very true Antonella, but I’ve been sent to help you on your journey. My painting holds answers to your questions.”
“But, I have no questions. I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“But you will Antonella. Study the painting carefully. It will guide you along the path you seek. Remember to look within, there you will find the answer.”
“My father said the same words to me before he died.”
Giovanni looked at Antonella and nodded his head, acknowledging he knew of what she spoke. She looked away as her eyes began filling with tears remembering the day her father died. Composing herself, she turned back to ask him to explain what he meant but no one was there.
There was a loud crash and Nelli sat straight up in bed. Her heart was racing and the light next to the bed was still on. She frantically looked around for the man but the room was empty. Then searching for the painting, which was there just a minute ago, now there was no evidence of either.
Noticing the book on Italy lying on the floor, she realized she must have fallen asleep and dropped it while reading. It was just a dream nothing more, Nelli told herself, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was more than a dream.
Reaching over and turning off the light, she lay down and pulled the covers up tight under her chin remembering the last words her father said to her just before he died, “You must be of pure heart Antonella. You will be guided and protected. Do not be afraid.”
CHAPTER 13
Nelli was curled up on the sofa watching today’s recap of the news on TV. Later in the broadcast an investigative reporter was going to do a piece on the sexual scandal within the Catholic Church and how some believed it was the work of Satan as foretold in the Book of Revelation.
As the TV station broke away for their advertisers, she thought about some things she still had to do before leaving tomorrow morning on her trip with Anthony, but she was tired from staying up late the night before and wanted to get to bed early. Ready to turn the TV off, she felt something wet trickling down her wrist. Her hand, clinched in a fist, was pressed against her chest. She slowly uncurled her fingers; cradled in the palm of her hand was the cross from the chain that hung from around her neck. Nelli had squeezed it so tightly it punctured the skin. Releasing the cross, she applied pressure to the wound. Getting up to go wash off her hand, she collapsed back onto the sofa in excruciating pain.
It felt as if someone was pounding a spike through her hand. Beginning to panic she prayed for the pain to stop. Suddenly, it dawned on her; this must be what it felt like when the nails were pounded into Christ’s hands and feet. Staring at the wound, the word stigmata came to mind and immediately the bleeding stopped. Just as suddenly, so did the piercing pain.
CHAPTER 14
Looking to see if the cross was covered in blood, it hung from her neck as if nothing had ever happened, not a drop of blood was evident. Instead the cross appeared to be glowing and the diamond in the middle was shooting off rays of light in all directions.
In the background, she heard the news anchor on TV say they were now going to talk with the investigative reporter on the Catholic Church’s handling of the sexual abuse scandal. The next voice Nelli heard was one she recognized but it wasn’t coming from the TV. She looked around and saw two figures coming towards her. The closer they got the clearer their faces became.
“How is this possible?” said Nelli to the two people.
Her father and mother now stood in front of her and she felt the presence of hundreds of souls surrounding them.
Not saying a word, her father reached for her hand and gently turned it over. Nodding, he looked at his wife and smiled, and then looking at Nelli he turned his hand over and showed her the same identical mark. Nelli didn’t understand what was happening. Her parents were dead.
“Is it really you?” asked Nelli.
“Yes, believe what you see my dear Antonella, your mother and I are here to tell you that it is your destiny to search for a box that has been hidden for centuries. It can only be opened with the key you possess. Inside the box you will find written the words of Our Lord. It will show the path that must be taken by the shepherd of the flock if the Church is to survive this crisis it now faces. As each Keeper of the Key before you, they have been given a Guardian on earth. When he sees the stigmata on the palm of your hand he will know what he must do.”
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��But how will I find him?” asked Nelli. “Will he show me where to look for this box? Dad, I don’t know if I can do this. What if I fail?”
“Do not be afraid. You will be guided and protected by all the past Keepers of the Key. Remember my last words to you on my deathbed, if you are of pure heart you will find what lies within. The knowledge inside the box could change the course of the future, if it is delivered to whom it is meant. But know there will be other forces, who wish the knowledge in the box never to be found. Faith in what’s good will triumph, if it hasn’t been lost.”
As Nelli listened the image of her parents seemed to be fading. She heard new voices, turning to see who was talking; she realized they were coming from the TV.
When she looked back, her parents were gone.
CHAPTER 15
Aboard the Plane to Rome
“You’re sure you don’t mind taking the time dropping off the drawings and proposal while we’re here? It saves me from scheduling another trip,” said Anthony.
“Anthony, I’ve told you already it’s fine,” said Nelli. “I’ll be able to see the Vatican and meet Bishop Rossini; it’s an opportunity of a lifetime.”
“It is an interesting project. I will be working with a well-known architectural firm from Italy, plus the Vatican’s building projects director.”
“I think it’s exciting Anthony. Who knows, maybe you’ll discover some ancient artifact or treasure during the reconstruction.” Nelli hesitated, “I know this is a touchy subject for you, but since we will be right there, I thought it would be nice if we stop by to say hi and congratulate Mary Ellen on her new position at the Vatican. It’s quite an accomplishment being the first woman appointed to such a high office by the Pope himself.”
Anthony’s body stiffened. Waiting for him to reply Nelli realized how much he reminded her of their father. Anthony was a few inches taller and had the same black hair and dark brown eyes. But the thing that stood out the most was she always felt safe when her father was around, and that’s how she felt with Anthony. Unfortunately, her brother had also inherited their mother’s stubbornness, which she had the pleasure of experiencing much too often.