The Serpent's Disciple Read online

  McKenna had been gathering his own information on a well-established order within the Church, called the Legion of Christ. There wasn’t anything in particular that he could point to but his gut told him to look more closely into the activities of the order and its founder. He had a bad feeling about all of this that he couldn’t seem to shake off.

  As he continued to look out over St. Peter’s Square, his thoughts drifted to the many prophecies throughout scripture, of the Holy Spirit being sent down to earth warning mankind that the day would come, when a great delusion shall descend upon mankind and cover the earth in a blanket of spiritual darkness.

  One prophecy in particular seemed to jump to the front of the line; it was that of Saint Anthony. As a young monk he had been visited three times by an angel. Each day he was told to write down in a book the words of Our Lord. At the end of the third day he was to place the book inside a gift that had been given to him. When the time came, the gift would be revealed to the Chosen One. Without this knowledge the church could not fight the forces of darkness, which had gathered to create a one-world religion, which would cast aside His Son.

  Cardinal McKenna wondered if that day had arrived. He clasped the cross that hung from his neck and began to pray.

  “Cardinal McKenna?”

  For the second time that day Donovan had not heard Robert knock. His assistant had the door opened slightly, calling out the cardinal’s name yet another time.

  “Cardinal McKenna?”

  “Come in Robert.”

  “Cardinal McKenna is everything all right?”

  “Yes, everything is fine.”

  “This was just delivered for you Cardinal McKenna and it’s almost time for your appointment with His Holiness.”

  “Thank you Robert.”

  Donovan picked up his papers and grabbed the large manila envelope that had just been delivered. Walking down the corridor, he undid the metal clasp. All he could see was a small business card. Pulling it out, he stared at the embossed drawing of the head of a cobra, with a lapis stone for an eye. Every muscle in his body tightened.

  CHAPTER 21

  Nelli and Anthony spent the rest of the flight reading, playing cards, and watching a movie. The plane landed at Leonardo da Vinci International Airport on time. As their passports got stamped Nelli turned to Anthony and gave a sigh of relief.

  “Going through customs didn’t take as long as I thought it would.”

  “We lucked out,” said Anthony.

  He was glad the lines were short today. Anxious to get to the hotel, he wanted to have some privacy so he could make calls to the other Guardians. All those years of training would now be put to the test. When he saw the mark on his sister’s hand a switch flipped on inside his brain. All his senses became heightened. He started watching people’s movements, logging their faces into his mental database. At that moment his life changed, he would be living a dual life and hoped he was prepared to deal with what was ahead.

  “The car rental place is this way,” said Anthony, directing his sister to follow him.

  “Slow down! I can’t keep up.”

  “Sorry,” said Anthony not realizing how fast he was walking. “I hope you like the hotel I booked the reservations at. It’s a small boutique hotel called The Hotel Raphael. Great location and only a fifteen-minute walk to the Vatican.”

  “I’m sure you chose something wonderful,” said Nelli. “You know I trust your judgment completely.”

  Anthony felt his whole body tense up. He felt guilty about keeping the information of the Guardians from Nelli, after she just said she trusted him completely. He continued walking.

  “When we get to the hotel let’s take some time to unpack and get settled,” that would give him a chance to contact the other Guardians. “I’d like to take a shower and make a few calls. Then we can find a nice restaurant for dinner. If you aren’t too tired afterwards, we can walk to one of the ancient sites near the hotel. Sound good to you?”

  “You read my thoughts,” said Nelli.

  Once they were relaxing over dinner she would tell him about the phone call she made to Mary Ellen.

  They had reached the car rental counter and Anthony was conversing in Italian with the agent. When they decided to travel to Italy, Nelli purchased an introductory language program to try and learn some basic Italian. She was able to pick out a word here and there.

  They got the car and found the exit for Autostrada Roma-Fiumicino and headed towards Rome.

  “Did you see that motorcycle Anthony? There’s another one! They’re weaving in and out between cars like maniacs. Aren’t they afraid they’re going to get hit?”

  Anthony started to laugh out loud. “Italians refer to them as mosquitoes, because of the annoying way they buzz in and out between cars and the noise that comes from their little motors. Watch for the Viadotto della Magliana exit, it should be coming up soon. It’s only about 19 miles from the airport to Vatican City.”

  Even as Anthony laughed, he was watching for any cars that seemed out of place or were following too close. He knew they would be at the hotel in a few more minutes and he would be in contact with the others within the hour.

  “There’s the hotel off to your right.” Anthony pointed up ahead.

  The doorman got someone to unload their luggage. Nelli followed Anthony, as he walked under an ivory-covered façade into the lobby. It was decorated with antiques that rival the cache in local museums. There was even a Picasso ceramics collection in the lobby of the hotel. As Nelli studied some of the pieces, Anthony headed to the reception desk to check them in.

  “Abbiamo prenotato a nome Andruccioli.”

  “Si,” replied Anthony.

  “Welcome to the Hotel Raphael signore Anthony, we have two rooms next to each other on the top floor, with lovely views as you requested.

  “Grazie,” turning to Nelli, “we’re all set; our rooms are next to each other with an interior adjoining door. When you’re ready to head out, give a knock and we will go have dinner.”

  Nelli’s room was beautiful. It had hardwood floors and had been refurbished with a Florentine touch and luxuriously furnished in a classic modern style. It was lined with oak and was equipped with high-tech innovations, including a digital sound system. There was a set of white painted French doors, which led out onto a balcony overlooking a series of beautiful gardens. As she stood on the small balcony and looked out past the gardens, in the distance she could see the top of St. Peter’s Cathedral.

  Being here in Italy, where Dad was born, made the last dream she had seem even more real, or was it all just her imagination? As she moved her hand from the ledge of the balcony, a small object fell to the tiled floor.

  Picking it up, she couldn’t believe what she held in her hand. It was a small religious medal of Saint Anthony.

  CHAPTER 22

  As Anthony unlocked the door to his room, he was already pulling out his cell phone.

  Instinctively he scanned the room, looking for anything out of place, anything that would make him suspect. Setting down his luggage, he punched in the numbers from memory and waited as the connection was made and for the phone to begin ringing.

  His training as a Guardian began before he even knew of the plan his father had for him and the purpose for his life. Starting when he was a young boy, several times a year, they would get together with eleven friends of his father and their sons for long weekends at a lodge. At first they would play games and learn survival skills. As time went on the games became more challenging. There were physical games of strength and endurance and mental games solving complicated riddles. They were trained to make educated guesses, based on the facts presented to them, sometimes on their own or together in teams. Each generation trained by the previous generation.

  On their sixteenth birthday each father sits down and divulges to their son, the real reason for their training and the legacy they are now part of. For the next two years they would be trained by masters in their
individual fields in the latest techniques of their crafts. Upon turning eighteen, they were expected to continue training on their own with the guidance of their teachers. Twice a year they would meet back where it all began, to update each other on any changes or concerns they might have, the last time just three weeks ago.

  After the first ring Anthony began pacing the floor. Finally on the fourth one, the person picked up.

  “Cephas, its Tau’ma.” There was a deafening silence on the other end.

  Tau’ma is Hebrew for Thomas. Very few people knew him as Thomas. His full name was actually Thomas Anthony Andruccioli. When Nelli got to be around ten years old, she started calling him by his middle name. She thought it would be fun if they each had the same name, since Antonella in Italian is the female version of Anthony. It stuck for some reason and since then everyone knew him as Anthony.

  The only time the Guardians were to use the Hebrew version of their names to contact each other was when the Keeper of the Key revealed the mark of the stigmata.

  Cephas took a slow deep breath, realizing the significance of the call asking, “Where are you calling from?”

  “Nelli and I are here in Rome. We are at The Hotel Raphael. Cephas, the time has come to alert the others. The mark was revealed to me.”

  “Who, when?”

  “It’s my sister Cephas, it’s Nelli.”

  “I will contact the others immediately. Does she understand what’s happening?”

  “No, not yet, although the visions have begun, she kept them to herself until yesterday. She told me about the dreams she’s been having while we were flying here. She still has not come to the realization they are more than just dreams.”

  CHAPTER 23

  Anthony heard knocking on the door separating their two rooms. Then he heard Nelli softly calling his name. He had purposely kept the door locked so there would be no chance of her walking in during his call.

  “Sorry Nelli,” he yelled out. “I forgot to unlock the door from this side.”

  “I’m ready to go get something to eat, if you are Anthony?”

  “Sounds good to me, we can head out. Let me just grab my jacket.”

  They stopped at the concierge’s desk and asked about restaurants in the area.

  “They are all excellent signore! Osteria dell’Antiquario is a few blocks down on Via dei Coronari. There is also the Il Convivo; it is one of the most acclaimed restaurants in Rome. You will also pass many small family trattorias with outdoor seating. What we sometimes suggest to our guests is to decide what kind of view you want to look at while you dine and that will be the restaurant for you.”

  “Grazie.”

  As they exited the hotel Anthony said, “Left or right, left takes us towards the Piazza Navona, right towards the Pantheon.”

  “Left,” said Nelli, “let’s try and find a restaurant near the Piazza Navona that has outdoor seating. I think I read that it is Rome’s most famous and most beautiful piazza. We can do some people watching while we eat.”

  “Left it is.”

  As they began walking, Nelli was astounded by the beauty everywhere you looked. It was just like she imagined it would be.

  “I’m so glad we decided to take this trip,” said Nelli.

  Anthony just smiled, covering up his apprehension; wondering what was in store for both of them.

  They window-shopped and read the menus displayed in front of the restaurants. Their hotel was in one of the most desirable sections of Rome. The area was a maze of narrow streets and alleys dating from the Middle Ages, filled with churches and buildings built during the Renaissance. Nelli stopped to study the display of a small shop.

  “Anthony, look what they have in their window,” she said as she grabbed his arm. “What an unusual collection of small boxes. We must come back here tomorrow. I would love to buy one to take home with me.”

  “That’s right, you have started collecting them haven’t you?” said Anthony. “How did that come about?”

  “I was lecturing one day on the Early Renaissance period. We were discussing the different styles of painters and their choices of accessories and background. On that particular day, I had chosen five paintings. A student pointed out that each had an exquisitely crafted box either being held by one of the subjects in the pictures or present somewhere else in the painting. Small handcrafted boxes were used to hold precious artifacts or to give gifts in, not that different from today. It dawned on me, how these small works of art have held many secrets throughout the ages inside their four walls. I got intrigued with the idea and started collecting anything that caught my eye.

  “Come to think of it, many of the frescos and reliefs I’ve studied have examples of that but I never really gave it much thought,” added Anthony.

  He noticed one of the larger boxes displayed in the window was open and the inside of the lid was covered with a mirror. It caught his eye because the sun was reflecting off of it. The image in the mirror was like a small painting of the street and buildings behind them. In the painting, a man stood who appeared to be watching them. Suddenly, the man nervously looked away—realizing Anthony had caught a glimpse of him in the mirror.

  Quickly turning towards Nelli, Anthony said, “I’m getting hungry. Let’s find a place to eat.” Anthony instinctively moved to the outside of the sidewalk to protect Nelli. He glanced across the street and saw the man disappear around the corner.

  “Look Anthony, there’s the famous fountain by Bernini. What is it called?”

  “The Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi,” said Anthony, “Fountain of the Four Rivers.”

  “And look there’s a restaurant across from it with outdoor seating. Let’s eat there and we can look at the fountain and people watch too.”

  Anthony liked the choice. If someone was watching them, it would be hard not to stand out. Anthony would have a commanding view of the street. Most of the tables were full but they were able to get one with a good view of the fountain. You could pick out the Italians from the tourists. The locals were animated and engrossed in conversation, oblivious to their surroundings.

  After looking at the menu for a minute Nelli leaned towards Anthony and asked, “Can you hear what that table is talking about next to us?” Nelli tilted her head to the right. “They seem to be arguing about something.”

  Without looking around Anthony started to chuckle, “Would you believe the price of eggs?”

  “You’re kidding right?”

  “No, actually I’m not. The woman is outraged at the grocer she goes to for raising

  the price of eggs last week.”

  Nelli rolled her eyes at Anthony. “How do they act if it is something serious?”

  The waiter came over to the table to take their order. Anthony ordered the house Chianti and a plate of antipasto for starters.

  Then Nelli chose a homemade linguine with black truffles for her first course and the roasted salmon in salt crust for her second. Anthony decided on the squash ravioli and the sautéed shellfish, and today’s special, mussels and clams. Along with the second course their waiter brought a small platter of vegetables. The concierge was right, the food was excellent. After they were finished, Anthony ordered two café Americanos.

  “What did you just order Anthony? I was thinking about ordering cappuccino.”

  “It’s the Italians version of our coffee, stronger than ours but weaker than espresso. Here’s your first lesson on how not to look like a tourist when in Italy,” said Anthony. “Rule number one: Italians never order a cappuccino after 11:00 a.m.—as anything with that much milk is considered a meal in itself and is the classic Italian breakfast. Rule number two: never order cappuccino after a meal. Italian meals usually consist of pasta followed by the main course and dessert. Italians can’t understand why anyone would then order a calorie-rich cappuccino. Rule number three: never sit down at a table with your cappuccino. Italians make their coffee lukewarm so it can be drunk quickly. If you attempt to sit down and drink your capp
uccino slowly it will be cold before you are halfway through it. Perhaps, the best reason for not ordering cappuccino after a sit-down meal is it will cost two, three, maybe even four times as much as it would cost at a coffee bar. Break the three cappuccino rules and you will expose yourself as a tourist.”

  “Okay, okay, I got it. No cappuccino after eleven in the morning while I’m in Italy.”

  Just as Nelli finished talking, the waiter approached with two cups of coffee. After

  taking a sip of her coffee she decided that this would be a good time to bring up Mary Ellen.

  Setting her cup down, “Well have you thought anymore about what I asked you on the plane?”

  “Can you be a little more specific Nelli?”

  “Mary Ellen?”

  There was no reaction from Anthony. He looked over at the fountain and sipped his coffee.

  “Anthony you have had more than enough time to make a decision.”

  At the same moment the waiter came by to leave the check. Anthony smiled and took the piece of paper.

  “I might as well tell you, I called Mary Ellen.”

  Anthony placed his cup down abruptly.

  “We had a very nice conversation Anthony. She sounds good, a little lonely I thought, but good. I told her we were coming to Rome. She was surprised of course. Then I told her we were actually going to be at the Vatican tomorrow for a meeting with Bishop Rossini. She was even more surprised. I told her I made the suggestion to you, that it would be nice if we stopped and saw her after our appointment with the bishop. There was silence on the other end for a moment but then she said it would be nice to see me. There was a gentleness and sincerity in her voice Anthony. Then she said to tell you that it would be nice to see you again too.”

  Nelli sat back in her chair and gave Anthony a chance to mull over what she had just told him.

  CHAPTER 24

  Nelli noticed when she told Anthony Mary Ellen said it would be nice to see him again, Anthony’s demeanor changed slightly. He leaned into the table and rested his hands around his cup of coffee.