CARDINAL TSANA ROSE from his chair, “If that is all Inspector?”
“For now, your Eminence!” the Inspector answered as he too rose taking his cue from the Cardinal. “I’ll let you know as soon as something develops!”
“I would appreciate that!” the Cardinal replied as he accompanied the policeman to the door. When he was alone again, he returned to his chair, a winged, green leather antique that had been around longer than the cardinal had. It had been built for comfort and wore the test of time well.
The room he was in acted as his office and it was also the room where he received people. The adjoining one served as his living quarters when he worked late. Both rooms were lavishly appointed with ornate plastered ceilings from which crystal chandeliers were suspended. The walls of this, his office, were draped in fine tapestries, and works of art bedecked the shiny wooden panelling. A thick expensive Italian carpet covered most of the floor and the bare boards that were exposed at the carpet’s edges were highly polished. The fire that burned in the white ornate fireplace at one end of the room was at this moment trying valiantly to warm the large interior but it was only partly successful. The Cardinal drew his chair closer to the hearth and basked in the warmth of the flames. It was warm enough outside in the sun but it was still winter and he needed to get the chill of the Austrian Alps out of his bones
Settling back in the chair, he thought long and hard about the events that had taken place at the Villa in his absence. The scene there had been described to him by the inspector as one of carnage. Quite beyond belief, he had been told. Among the dead, were Monsignor Cronin and Doctor Nieuwhof, both men having been ripped apart. The inspector had questioned him relentlessly about the type of security the Cardinal had on his estate. Had he been expecting trouble? If not, why was he using armed men with the latest weapons at their disposal? Was the Cardinal aware that he had violated a number of by-laws by using such force? And so it went on but the Cardinal was not unduly concerned by the inspector’s interrogation. The organization could hush it up as it always did. No, the thing that vexed him the most was the fate of Monsignor Cronin for, unlike the inspector who had no idea that Michael Cronin’s look-alike was also staying at the Villa, the Cardinal knew that the supposed body of Michael Cronin could, in fact, be that of John Devlin. After all the men were identical in appearance. All the bodies found at the Villa had been identified which meant that either Cronin or Devlin had escaped. That was the only logical explanation. If John Devlin had survived, then he would be easy enough to deal with, but, on the other hand, if the Monsignor were the one that escaped, then he was a real threat to the future of the organization.
There was something else that troubled the Cardinal even more. Why was Captain Lewis still alive? If Doctor Nieuwhof had done his work well then surely Captain Lewis should be dead. After all, the doctor was supposed to be an expert in such matters so what went wrong? If the destruction at the Villa were not proof enough that Captain Lewis still lived, for it bore all the marks of his handiwork, Oscar Bar’s contact in the SAS had supplied the final confirmation. Was Captain Lewis a mortal man or was he something else? The Cardinal held no belief in the hearafter or all the religious dogma he was constantly bombarded with. Yet, there was something about Captain Lewis’ ability to survive that was becoming unnerving.
He suddenly realized how tired he was. Although it was only three-thirty in the afternoon, it had already been a long day. His flight from Austria, the happenings at the Villa, and his confrontation with the inspector had wearied him and he found he could hardly keep his eyes open. He gave in to his weariness and closed his eyes, letting the warmth of the fire flow over him like a soothing balm.
The deafening roar of German armour as it rolled by in the mud drowned out the cries coming from the burning church.
“One tried to escape, sir!”
Steiner looked at the girl the corporal had hold of by the scruff of the neck. She was a peasant girl of ten or so years with terrified eyes, and a coarse ugly face that seemed to fit most of the people in the district.
“Throw her back then!”
The corporal looked at him for approval. “Would it be all right if I ..?”
He knew what the soldier wanted for it was written on his face and the bulge in his trousers was a further indicator.
It was good to give his men a morsel or two from time to time. It kept them interested, so to speak.
“Yes, very well!” he said and waved the pair away. He then watched with cool detachment as the soldier took the girl over to the side of the road. A ring of soldiers started to gather as the corporal ripped the girl's undergarments off and undid his fly. Steiner could not see much of what was going on because the men around the pair obscured his view but from the grunts and cries of frustration it appeared that the corporal was not having much success entering her hairless belly. The girl's screams were lost among the crowd of chanting and jeering men as they mocked the ineffectual soldier, until, suddenly, a piercing cry carried to him on the wind as the corporal finally gained entry. The men’s jeering turned to cheering as the corporal plunged in and out, grunting noises emanating from his lips as he took her.
Steiner smiled and turned away. Another victory for the Wehrmacht, but then there had been plenty of those already. This scorched earth policy of the Russians, however, was beginning to have its effects. His men were hungry and their morale was low which was why he had staged this church outing for them. He glanced towards the building now and watched the sparks from its burning roof shoot into the air, noting casually that the cries from inside had now ceased.
God! But it was cold! The Russian Steppes were inhospitable at the best of times, but in winter they were fit only for Russians, he decided as he drew nearer the flames. Lost in the warmth, the playful laughter behind him brought him back to earth and he turned once more. A number of his men were now pulling the girl around like dogs fighting over a bone. It was too cold to expose flesh for very long in this weather and the bundle they were fighting over, Steiner saw, was beginning to freeze. Her skin was turning blue and his men would soon find her offerings below the waist less than appetizing. One way or the other, it was of no concern to him.
Turning back to face the church, he moved even closer to make the most of the heat while it lasted. Soon, he knew, they would all have to move up the road to Leningrad and the fire would then be but a pleasant memory.
“Come on, old chap! Wake up! You’re having a dream!”
He slowly opened his eyes as he felt the hand on his knee and then leaped out of his chair when he saw who it was.
“You!” he exclaimed.”
The other man smiled pleasantly. “Yes, me!” he replied
“The poison? How..”
“Ah, Niewuhof’s little treat you mean! Foul stuff! Didn’t like it one bit!”
Steiner could only stare in amazement.
“You seem at a loss for words, Steiner! It's not like you at all!”
“Why do you call me that?” he asked when he finally found his voice.
“Because you are Wolfgang Steiner, are you not? Incidentally, weren’t you dreaming of your glory days on the Russian front, just then?”
“But,” he stammered, “how did you know that?”
The tall blond man who stood before him came nearer and the Cardinal shrank back against the wall. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that his desk was within reach and he made a lunge for it. The other man did not try to stop him even while he fumbled with the drawers. Instead, the tall man smiled and watched in amusement as Steiner searched for his gun.
“Bottom drawer, I believe!” the other man said.
Steiner found the bottom drawer locked, then he remembered that he had locked it himself, and he began fumbling in his pockets for the keys while the other man looked on in amusement.
“You are in a state, Steiner! Calm yourself.”
Steiner could not find his keys, however, and started to panic wildly.
“Are these them?” the other man asked and threw a bunch of keys through the air.
They landed at Steiner's feet and he picked them up greedily. With relief, Steiner found the P228 Beretta 9mm handgun sitting where he had left it and brought it out.
“Safety catch! Remember your training please!”
Steiner relaxed a little as he took off the safety catch.
“How did you escape from the Villa, Captain Lewis!”
“Captain Lewis!” the other man inquired. “No, I'm afraid not! You've got me mixed up with someone else!”
Steiner was puzzled by the Captain’s confidence and his strange behaviour.
“By the way, that weapon's useless! It won't fire!”
“You're mad, Captain!”
“My! My! The impression I leave on people! Herr Oscar Bar and his associates thought that I was mad as well, but I'm inclined to believe that it was they who were so! Still, it's rather disrespectful to speak ill of the dead, don't you think!”
“Dead?”
“Oh, did I not mention. Mother Earth decided to swallow up Oscar and his mad dream of world conquest, much the same way that his father was swallowed up by Mother Russia, those terrible winters, and all that! But then I needn’t tell you about Russia! You are an expert on that score aren’t you! Or at least in burning Russian churches with people in them!”
The Cardinal was stung by the man’s words. He seemed to know everything, the Cardinal thought. Then the room began to tremble and he clutched at the table for support but it too was bouncing wildly. It lasted for only a few seconds but it terrified him.
“What was that?” he gasped.
“Mother Nature is still upset, I'm afraid!”
The Cardinal had all he could stand and he squeezed the trigger but nothing happened.
“Safety catch!” the other man exclaimed as if trying to help.
The Cardinal did not need to be reminded. He had already taken it off once. Taking it off again, it flicked back to the off position of its own accord.
“You're wasting your time. It won't work I'm afraid! Watch!”
The man pointed to the chair the Cardinal had been sleeping in minutes before. It began to rise slowly into the air and then soared around the room as if radio-controlled while the man directed it with his finger. Finally, he dropped his finger as if bored with the demonstration and it crashed back to the floor on the spot it had originally been, where it spun around to face them.
“Who are you?” Steiner asked in a quavering voice.
“I am the evil that exists in the hearts of men. In reality, I am but one instrument of the Almighty. But one sword to smite the wicked!
“But I am a Cardinal of Rome! You dare to threaten me?”
The man laughed as he replied, “Why not? After all, you dare to insult the Church by claiming to be a part of it, do you not? By so doing, you insult the Almighty!” He paused before he spoke again.
“Is it not strange that the name 'Lechaim' can be rearranged to spell 'Michael', and is it not strange that the name 'Tsana' can be rearranged to spell 'Satan'“
Steiner was stunned for it had never occurred to him despite his own fascination with figures and numbers.
“Yes, it is surprising that you never saw the obvious before your very eyes, but your obsession with certain numbers made you myopic, I fear?”
The man was reading his mind, Steiner realized and he cringed.
The man moved nearer still until the Cardinal could feel the other’s breath on his face – it was foul. Tsana was paralyzed with fear and his limbs wouldn’t function even though his instincts were telling him to run.
The man held up his hand before Steiner who watched transfixed as the nails on the man's fingers grew into long talons. Steiner's eyes widened in horror as the man's face changed into a screaming skull from which maggots poured forth, then Steiner felt the talons ripping into his chest and he screamed and kept on screaming.
“Let no man affront God!' the skull roared as the Cardinal’s heart was torn out. Holding the still-beating hollow muscular organ with its trailing severed arteries and veins up to heaven, the spectre cried aloud,
“So perish all that offend Almighty God!”
Steiner couldn’t take his eyes off the pulsating bloody organ that the other held in his hand and watched in horror as it was devoured before his eyes.
“Your Eminence!” the voice said insistently in his ear.
“Your Eminence!” the voice persisted and he was suddenly awake!
His manservant, Francesco, was tugging at his sleeve.
“What is it?” Cardinal Tsana asked as he realized where he was. The sweat was running off his body and he shuddered as he remembered the nightmare.
“The Holy Father is dead, your Eminence!” the other man said. “The Holy Father is dead!” Francesco was crying as he added, “I thought you should know right away!”