♥The silver bullet♥

Read The Story
☆☆

“Now listen carefully, Emily or whatever, it is either your job or your family! What part of that statement don’t you understand?” Oswald Peterson shouted in her face and she jerked back. “If you’re tired already of being a correspondent field reporter, then I’ll get you fired. There are tons of reporters who would kill to get this assignment”

Emily Bradley just sat back gazing at the wall-sized portrait of the Nigerian President hanging at the rear wall of the huge office, a million thought flashing her mind. She had gone through hell to get job and had sworn to keep it for a long time; reason, she was the major source of her family’s income. But her mother who had been informed that she had barely seventy-two hours to live and at most four days.

She was down with a chronic cardiovascular illness known as the coronary artery disease, a type of atherosclerosis meant that her arteries were hardening and narrowing by the moment and if the angloplasty surgery doesn’t work out, the arteries could be blocked,the flow of blood would become almost impossible and that would mean death. She brushed the thought off her memory. If not for any other thing but for the fact that save for her sister, she was the only family she had right now. She really had to be by her side during her last days.

“Please sir, I can get you a doctor’s analysis and report from the hospital. You don’t really need to do this to me”, she pleaded.

Her boss,Oswald Peterson was the last person you would want to get angry with you,so she had choose her words carefully.

With an irritatingly bad temper, Pete had already carved a niche for himself in the world of investigative journalism with his vast experience in numerous major news networks all over the world. Currently,he is the head of the international correspondence arm of the Cable News Network(CNN) in Nigeria.

“No, no, no. Don’t cross the line. This is ridiculous,how can I just give you such an important assignment on a platter of gold, one minute you accepted and the next you come running back demanding a leave cause your mother gonna die on or before Easter? I really don’t get it, you can’t just keep disrupting the way things are structured here!”

“I’m so sorry sir. But I really don’t want to call it quits”. She needed to clear her head right now,the cost of the operation that might save her mother’s heart failure at least for some time was very exorbitant and she has to be the one who would pay for it. Her other sister, Eliana was still in college and she had to stop school just because of this. She had tried everything; worked overtime,met some people but things are not as expected.

Her smartphone started ringing but she ignored it.

“I guess this meeting is over,if you’re not in the Vatican City to cover the pre-Easter and Easter celebrations for this news network then I’ll be left with no other option than to fire you,period”,he said and pressed a button on the mahogany desk and the glass door slid open.

“How did it go?” Duane asked as soon as she came out of the office.

“Forget it,Duane”, she said and slumped down on her swivel chair. Her phone rang again,

“Hello Eliana, how’s mum doing? Yeah give her the phone”.

“Hello mom,just hang in there. I’ll figure something out, trust me. Alright” the call terminated.

“S--t! The stupid network providers. Oh my God,I’m going to go crazy of all these”

“That’s frustration,depression comes after this”, Duane said from his workspace.

“Just mind your business,jerk”

“Anyway,Derek called your desk”

“And you picked it?”, she asked

“Trust me. He said that I should inform you that he would be making a flight stop in italy before heading for the United States for the exhibition,if you won’t mind joining him”

“Of course,at least it would save me some flight costs”,she muttered.

“I should have known thick-skinned no nonsense Emily is finally taking up the international assignment”.

“Just shut up!”, she scolded and everyone turned to look at her.

☆☆

12 MIDNIGHT

“Hey you stop!”, the Swiss Guard positioned at the Portone di Bronzo entrance of the papal palace commanded. The strange figure continued to advance on the Swiss Guard. He was with something like a suitcase.
Ho detto, formatti! “I said,stop!” The guard repeated, pulling out his gun. In a flash, the strange figure got to him. A sharp pain shot through the guard’s body from the small of his back. He m0aned and slumped, but was able to say something into his walkie-talkie.

The strange figure soon located another guard posted on the stairs at the 3rd loggia. Unfortunately for that guard he was seen first and soon winced in pain as a perfectly thrown knife found its way into his chest.

The strange figure who’s actually known asTHE MESSENGERmade his way to the papal private quarters, which was rather difficult to locate among other massive apartments,halls and chapels. He took note of the Raphael rooms and Borgia apartments as he edged closer to the Clementina hall.

He was disappointed with the loose security here; he had expected more than this. Anyway,it was none of his business, he is only a messenger and had a very important message to deliver.

He brought down the two guards guarding the entrance to the papal quarters.

“How good it feels to set chains of events in motion!” He thought and a wry smile crossed his face.

Soon enough, he located the heavy mahogany door. He pulled out a tiny pen-like dynamite from one of the pouches in his leather attire. He unscrewed it and stuck it in the keyhole.

He knocked lightly on the door.

“Ch’e? Who’s there?” The Holy Father said from inside.

“It’s me,the messenger”, the door popped open with a light explosion.
He stepped inside.

“I have a message for you”.

☆☆

12:30am

GALILEO GALILEI INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT PISA, ROME

“Promise me you’ll be back soon”, Emily said looking into the eye of her fiance, Derek while still holding him around the neck.

“I cross my heart,trust me on that one”, he said in his rich baritone.

The two lovebirds were oblivious of the sights and sound of the airport and Derek would have lost his flight if not for a shove he got from a woman in her mid-fifties trying to get to the plane on time. She cursed in Italian and went on without saying as much as a “Sorry”.

Emily Bradley had come to the Vatican City on the special assignment of covering the Holy Saturday and Easter celebrations which,as she was told, was a very important celebrations which, as was told, was a very important celebration in life of Catholics which account for 95% of the world’s population. Actually, the Vatican had invited the CNN, two days before then. The celebration is called Triduum which means three days of the Catholics’ celebration but she was behind schedule due to some complexities. She had looked forward to having an entirely new experience in the world’s smallest country.

Derek Oscar,her fiance, is the Chief Supervising Officer of G.S. Tech. Corp., Abu Dhabi Dubai. He had accompanied her from Nigeria, her home country in Africa to the Vatican but unfortunately he had been called to give a lecture to the Robotic & Artificial Intelligence Department of Massachussetts Institute of Technology and supervise their exhibit. He just had to be there.

“You look worried, Emily. You’re not telling me something”, he said, holding her cheeks.

“No,it’s nothing. I think it’s just stress”,she said looking away.

“If there’s a problem,just let me know. Okay?”
“Alright

”,she said, a bit relieved. She just don’t want to let him worry over her family problems,not just yet.

“I’ll be going now,bye”.

“Don’t forget,I bought tickets for an EXPO that would be held in Nigeria tomorrow; don’t make me regret”, she said after him as he headed for the plane,clutching the handle of his briefcase.

“Trust me,I won’t!”, he hollered back and began mounting the steps of the Boeing 777 passenger plane.

She felt lonely and stressed as the plane prepared to take off. They had come in from Nigeria just the previous night and she would still have to report to the Vatican City before calling for her crew. She really needed to rest so as to brace herself up for the day, but first she had to call her boss.

She walked light headed back to her Hyundai Sonata hybrid parked a few metres away and headed for the hotel she lodged in so as to grab a short nap before heading to the Vatican City.

☆☆

12: 45am

The pope was visibly shaken by what had happened just a few minutes ago. He sat on a sofa in the balcony. He had a clear view of the city in all its beauty, but he could scarcely appreciate the beauty as he normally did. Tonight was strange and he could feel it; his fears were heightened after the unexpected intrusion into the palace. The strange intruder who introduced himself as just THE MESSENGER really dropped a message and it troubled him, in the suitcase was a Blu-ray disk which contained a recorded voice message. He played it again,for the sixth time and listened to it. He sent for the Charmelengo through one of the Swiss guards guarding the lodge.

The Charmenlengo is a clergy specially chosen by the Pope himself officially as the administrator of the property and revenues of the Holy See and to assist him both personally and on official matters,he was much closer to the powerful religious leader than any other person.

He had chosen Pietro Francesco Bademosi, an African-born priest as his Charmenlengo. He gave him the enviable position because of his exceptional brilliance. The Charmenlengo knew more than required in moral theology, philosophy and the canon law. His overall efficiency made him likeable.

The heavy oak door opened a bit and the handsome ebony priest stuck out his head.

“Morning, Santita. I was just informed that the security was breached just few minutes ago and the guards were attacked”, he said,walking in and taking a seat opposite the Pope. He obviously still possessed youthful exuberance and he looked as bright and anxious as always. He was on a black night robe with a gold chord tied round the waist and was barefoot. The Holy Father maintained a calm demeanor.

“Grazie a Dio,your life was spared. You seem worried, what was that all about?” The Charmenlengo asked..

“This”, he said turning over the laptop computer to him. ”Listen carefully to this audio message”, The Holy Father said.
.
The cleric played the audio and by the look on his face, he clearly understood what it meant.

“It’s a threat, Your Holiness. A serious threat from an internationally acclaimed terrorist. I think he’s from my country, Nigeria”, The Charmenlengo said when the audio finished playing.

“What’s the content?”, The Holy Father asked fixing his eyes on the priest. The black priest sank back in the chair.

“Not something you would like to hear,padre”.

“Go ahead,we are listening”.
The Charmenlengo shook his head. “I think it’s a trap. It claims to be from a notorious mafia group in Africa and they’re demanding your presence for a negotiation. But it’s dangerous my lord”, the Charmenlengo implored.

“We’ve made up our mind” The Pope said.

The Charmenlengo made a slight bow

“As you wish Holy Father”.

Please do send for Signore Giovanni Lorenzo”.
“You mean the President of APSA?”
“Yes,we need him in times like this”.

☆☆☆☆☆

1.20 A. M

The President sat in hi story, deep in thoughts. Many of the files he had been working on in his office earlier in the day in a heap beside the laptop. Just like every other night, he was suffering from insomnia. He took his sleeping pills, and walked to a miniature refrigerator.

He pulled out a bottled table water and swallowed the pills in one gulp.

The study, like every other place in the Presidential villa was elaborately decorated down to the minutest detail. The President of the Federal Republic of Nigeria was a man whose eccentricity is based mostly on collections, he has a collection of rare books and artefacts in his study encased and arranged neatly on the shelves. Among his collections is the copy of Aeneid, written by the Greek author Virgil and many other rare works of literature; paintings of the Virgin of the Rocks by Leonardo da Vinci, and the Madonna painting graced the full length of the west wall of the study. Most of the paintings were reproduced from the original by experts using radioactive technology and Giclee. Equally gracing his library were the Grimorum Verum, the Arbatel de magia, to mention a few. He so much loved mystics.

As he adjusted the chord of his white night robe and was just about to sit down, he heard the distant ringing of his phone. It then occurred to him that he had left it in the adjoining state room after a very disturbing session with the Minister of the Federal Capital Territory.

The President was a firmly built man in his mid-fifties; he had served in the Nigerian military with his brother before he was recruited by the U. S. SEAL where he rose through the ranks. He finally retired from the service to face politics which had been his lifelong ambition and he easily rose through the echelons of power with his austere and imposing personality. His long years in the service helped to furnish his rise to that position. He had been at loggerheads with his brother, Arnold Kelvin, the black sheep of the family for years. Arnold had been in the shadows since,surfacing once again when he was campaigning for the President post and that was when they had the major showdown that tore their r/ship to shreds. Kenneth Kelvin had every reason to believe that envy has taken its toll on him.

☆☆☆☆☆

Becky, the love of his life went under mysterious circumstance a few years ago leaving their only daughter, Imogen the only reasonable family he had. He suspected that it was one of his brother’s numerous evils but he had no evidence to sustain it. Meanwhile, Imogen, his only daughter is currently a Robotics and Software Engineering student in Massachussetts Institute of Technology, U. S. A. The President is currently still funding the U.S. Intelligence and CTAN (Counter Terrorism Association of Nigeria) to investigate her death. He had loved Becky so much and now he seemed to have transferred all that love to Imogen, an exact replica of her mother and he had a wall-sized portrait of them both hanging in the sitting room.

He opened the door of the hall which had a gold inscription,

STATE ROOM Q5

He saw the light of the phone glowing from a corner of the dark room; he turned on the light and walked to it, calmly avoiding the Italian cushions that were arranged round the central glass table.

He picked up the phone from the table and quickly checked the caller ID, but there was none; he was about to ignore the call when he observed that it was prefixed with “ 06”.

He quickly recognized it as the dialing code of the Vatican City. The Pope had called him recently with the same dialing code to inform him of his visit to inform him of his visit to Nigeria in a few months’ time.

“I hope this would be something good. I have more than enough to worry about”, he muttered to himself and answered it.

“Hello, Mr President”, the man on the other end said. He had a thick Italian accent.

A frown streaked his face. Only very few persons had his private cell number.

“Please,who am I speaking with?” He asked sternly

“We have a serious situation here, I’m currently with the Pope and you might speak with him later. I have every reason to believe that the Holy See is under a serious threat.

“Is the Vatican in need of our help? It would be an honor”.

“The Roman security operatives are up to the task but we would need your assistance, the organization issuing this threat is actually from your country”.

2.00 A.M

The Charmenlengo came out to the balcony just in time to see the Chief of the Swiss Guard end the call and hand over the phone to the Holy Father. He was deep in thoughts.

“How did it go,Pique? Did you finally convince him?” He asked leaning on the railings as the Chief Swiss Guard had already taken up his seat. He made to stand up but the cleric motioned him to remain sitting.

Signore Monte pique was once a soldier in the US Navy and once worked with the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) as a chief detective of his department which carries out field work for the CIA. He resigned seven years ago and returned to Italy his home country where his services were quickly required by the Vatican without hesitation. Clearly, the athletic-statured Italian knew his worth.

Throughout his years of experience, he had resolved all the breaches that the Vatican experienced constantly; from attempted theft of artifacts from the Vatican archives and museum, to reckless attempts to assassinate the Pope,attempts to sneak into the papal palace and the Pope’s lounge without being cleared, deviant reporters, obsessed cults trying to steal sacred objects from the high alter of the St. Peter’s Basilica and many larcenies that people tend to commit on an almost daily basis. Over the years, he had encouraged the Pope to initiate the use of high-tech security devices and surveillance equipment. So far the security of the Vatican had drastically improved and many challenges had been taken care of. His calculative initiative and professional personality had been an added advantage to his numerous achievements.

“He didn’t convince me; it was my own will”, the Pope said,thumbing through the leaves of L’Osservatore Romano newsletter that had been lying on the table”.

“The Presidents pledged his allegiance and support, my Lord. I would send them the audio right away”.

“Just make sure it doesn’t get in the wrong hands”.

“Lo faro essatamente, Signore,I’ll do just that”.

☆☆

2 . 27 A.M.

ORIO AL SERIO INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT BERGAMO, ITALY

The plane finally skidded to a stop and the step was let down. She took the briefcase, her mission, from the carriage bin spanning along the roof of the passenger plane. “Benvenuta in Italia”(Welcome to Italy), she muttered to herself as she stood examining her surroundings.

The plane had left Hercillo Luz International Airport, Florianopolis, Brazil from where she had received the briefcase from the messenger, the mysterious and notorious underworld gangster with the brief of what she was expected to do. She felt honored running an errand for him.

It could only mean one thing; her fame had gone far beyond Brazil. The lethal contents of the briefcase had been saved from prying sensors of the Computerized Axial Tomography (CAT) radioactive scan by means of a new technology which the briefcase employed- an odorless rubber-like material, brown in color and made from an exothermic emulsion reaction of some plastic constituents of bitumen. This invention escapes the CAT radioactive/X-ray scan by the material imposing its own film as a completly dark mass, masking the object underneath it.

The blonde Brazilian walked to a closet in the main building of the airport and washed all the artificial tan off her face so as to suit the passport on her next flight ticket, she equally stylized her hair. She walked out of the closet and soon located the section where flight tickets and visas were submitted.

“Please,while time is Flight A7 departing?”
She asked the airport staff with a practiced Italian accent,producing her flight ticket,visa and other particulars.

“Sorry signora, but you’re almost late”, the staff said proffering her hand to received the particulars.

She checked the fake passport on the national ID with the face of the strange woman who had a distant air.

“Madam,please do get in here for scanning”, she motioned to a round cubicle surrounded with glasses. She obeyed.

“This is the last call for passengers on flight A7, late departures should board immediately. We’ll begin general boarding in just ten minutes”, the public address system echoed all over the departure hall.

“You’re cleared, you can go now down over there and submit your briefcase, happy journey signorina”.

---

The Boeing 777-9x was a massive passenger airline with a capacity of over 406 (3 class) passengers plus the crew. Currently, it was a bound for France.

“Good morning ladies and gentlemen, please all carry-on luggages must fit in the overhead bin. If you’re having any problem with that, notify us and we would fix it for you. Thank as you comply; have a nice journey”, a female flight attendant announced on the public address system on board the plane. Just then, the pilot came on the speaker.

“Ground, this is B9x-A7. We’re ready to disconnect from ground power,over. Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome aboard Italian Orio al Serio Flight A7, non-stop to New York. I’m your Captain for this flight, Roosevelt McCarthy. With me in the cockpit is…”

“First officer, Stephen Bradley. We have a perfect flight weather condition today, so we’re expecting a smooth and wonderful ride”, he winked at Roosevelt, who gave him a go ahead. “Just sit back and relax. Thank you”.

☆☆

A sleepy old man was snoring loudly beside the blonde Brazilian woman and on many occasions leaned lazily on her shoulders. She narrowly a drop of spittle which dripped down to the floor; she was becoming infuriated and her time for the mission finally came. She shoved the old man with her shoulders and grunted before leaning on the head rest. She reached over-head and grabbed the suit case from the suit case from the carriage holder,she stood up and started walking down the aisle of the plane. She was conscious of the suspicious glances some passengers cast at her, but she didn’t mind; they wouldn’t live to tell.

The contact who gave her the mission had promised that arrangements had been made to wipe out all the information in the plane’s black box as soon as she was through.

The black box is an indestructible device found in virtually every plane, and contains all the flight data. It is indestructible in the sense that it can withstand fire exposures of over 1, 110•C for an hour and is unaffected by water.

When she got to the plane’s store cabin, she took a parachute bag from one of the shelves and made for an adjoining cabin which had the‘EMERGENCY ONLY’symbol on it. As she was heading for the closet Just then, an air hostess passed by. She had almost risked being discovered.

She opened the heavy metal door and walked into the plane’s engine room. Heat was radiating from large vents and turbines and the room was vibrating. She knelt down on her knees and propped the suit case open. She took out a pen knife from her boot. She cut an imperfect square round the rubbery material and lifted it up to reveal the time bomb encased inside. She took it out with its small key and a duct tape she found inside the briefcase. She knew her job.

Using her teeth, she tore out a sizeable length of the tape and placed the electronic time bomb against the wall, she taped it to a panel. For sure, it would cause seriously damage the fuselage and possibly the engine.

She added more tape and when she was done, she located the emergency exit of the plane and used the sharp and powerful beam from her 3000mW Infra-Red laser pen to make a neat cut on the high security padlock that was used to lock it. All she had to do was to give it a slight push and she would be gone. She packed all her paraphernalia into the briefcase and latched it shut. She was removing the small activator key from between her teeth when she heard thuds of footsteps; she was now faster as she inserted the key in the slot which was beside the bomb. The LED display unit came alive and began the countdown from 30 seconds.

Just then, a wide-eyed air hostess stood at the doorway of the cabin just staring at the strange woman. Her gaze traveled to the blinking device on the control panel and more shock than fear crept over her face.

“I’ll get the air Marshall!” She stammered.

“Voce nao vivera dizer, my cara( You won’t live to tell, my dear)”, she said in Brazilian language and opened the emergency exit door before letting herself to be s----d down by the strong wind ensuing from the supersonic speed of the plane. The thought of the five million reads (R$ 5,000,000) waiting in her Switzerland private bank account overwhelmed her.

————————————————————-

☆☆

1. 0 1 A.M.

“It’s obvious that a voice distorter was not used, at least that would make our job easier”, Agent Adam said after listening to the audio. He sat opposite the President on the dining table. He doused a cup of coffee and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

Agent Adam was a well built man who had seen the better part of his life since his sojourn in the Nigerian military service. From the Nigerian army and peace-keeping missions to the State Security Service(SSS), a one-time beneficiary of the government’s sniper training program held in Texas, U.S.A. His life changed totally at that time. Crime Investigation Agency (CIA) made a liaison with the Federal government, asking that he should be employed in the service just for 5 years. There was a slight tussle and the option fell on him. He decided to serve the CIA for only 3 years. While working as a sub-superior field agent, he rose through the ranks and led his team on successful CIA field mission before his assignment was terminated. When he came back to his home country, he served for some time again in the SSS before the past manager of the CTAN was killed in a field mission involving the Malibu mafia group which went badly. He was the first choice of the security department of the Federal Government and he accepted the offer without hesitation.

With a pack load of experience from the United States, he scarcely gave his men a chance to fail in any mission leaving his men with no option than to succeed. ‘Failure’ was the only English word he wished never existed. He employed every tactic within his reach, and following the American way, the agency invested heavily in hi-tech security surveillance and biometric equipment coupled with overseas IT training for his agents.

“I see. I would like you to employ all the means within your reach to ensure that nothing happens to the Pope and if possible, the threat may be quelled entirely. It’s our responsibility after all”, the President stressed.

“I understand, Mr President. I’ll be taking my leave now. The earlier and faster the better”, he said standing up and offering a handshake. “I barely question your competence, Adams. Keep it up”, the president said,accepting the handshake.

“The pleasure is mine, Mr. President”, he said and made a curt bow.

————————————————————

☆☆

3 . 45 A.M.
HOTEL REPUBLICA MARINARA, PISA ROME

At the second ring of her phone, she muttered a curse and clumsily reached for it at the headboard. It was her Supervisor, Duane.

“Hello, Duane. You’re still up”, she said, trying her best to hide her drowsy voice.

“Yeah, Bradley, we’ve got a slight hint down here in Nigeria; something about a terrorist but we’re still pushing our sources. I called you for something more serious”.

She tensed up and was now wide awake.

“What’s that? I hope it’s not as serious as it sounds?”

“I’m afraid so. We received five different videos showing about five to six passenger planes which took off from some of the major international airport in Italy some hours ago”.

“And what about the planes?”, she asked.

“They exploded in mid-flight and a Nigerian mafia group is claiming responsibility for it”.

“S--t. It’s as bad as that? What are you guys planning, sending it to the headquarters in U.S or sweeping it under the carpet?”

“We’re a bit confused down here. It would really cause a stir, globally. This would hit the Roman Catholics real hard”.

“How? I don’t understand any of this”.

Have you forgotten the reason why you came? Tomorrow is the Easter celebration. Whoever that’s behind all this must be a fanatic and really had an absolute perfect timing”.

“You guys could make a fortune publishing it; you know the usual thing”, she said, a wry smile on her lips.

“Of course, rushes and biddings from other international and local but that depends on whether we are the only guys with the info, anyway. Trevor had suggested that we air it and we’ve already sent it to the headquarters”, he elaborated.

“I see. What was his argument?” Emily had a crush on Trevor, the Chief Computer analyst, but they hadn’t gone too far with the relationship before they broke up. She just felt awkward asking around about him.

“He said that it was the only reason the guy or whoever it was sent it”.

“Stupid”, she said, wiping her hand across her face and reclining back on the headboard.

“It’s obvious, Emily. You guy are still at odds”, he said with a chuckle.

“Please do mind your business, Duane”, she said with a weary sigh.

I’m so as sorry ma”, he chuckle some more. “The problem right now is that if we aren’t the only guys with this video, then chances are that once it is made public, there would be an automatic lock down on airports; flight diversions would be sporadic and to get on a plane would be herculean”.

“And the crew won’t be able to make it”, she concluded with a sigh.

“You get my point. We’re suggesting that you move over to the Vatican City immediately and report for the assignment to avoid any complications. I’ll let Oswald know and we would know what to do about the crew later”.

“I get it”, she said, reaching for the remote control of the plasma TV set. What she saw left her dumbfounded, her voice cut off.

“What was that? Are you alright?” Duane asked.

“I don’t think we’re the only ones with the video”.

“Oh my God!”

☆☆

1. 17A. M

Emily pulled up the SUV and a Swiss guard directed her to a vacant space in the parking lot beside the barracks of the Swiss Guards. A taller guard emerged as she was coming out of her car. He was on an overall colored with vertical stripes of yellow, red and dark purple with socks and a pair of loafers, all of the same color just like the other Swiss Guards. Even in the dim lit of the parking lot, they could be easily distinguished.

Meeting the famed Vatican soldiers had been one of the adventurous things she hoped to experience in Rome. According to her researches about them, they came into being in the early 16th century when Pope Julius II recruited Swiss mercenary soldiers to guard the Vatican City which had been on a struggle to gain her independence as a state from Italy. It was not until 1929 that the famous Lateran Treaty was signed by the Italian President Benito Mussolini and Pietro Cardinal Gaspari declaring the Vatican City an independent state. The traditional regalia of the Swiss Guards were designed by the controversial Italian artist and sculptor who designed most of the churches and famous artefacts in the Vatican City, Michelangelo Bounarroti.

Buorigiorno Signora, passo aiutarvi per favoret?”He asked in a thick Italian accent.

“Please, I’m sorry. I’m English”, she said, demonstrating as best as she could . She swung her digital camera out of sight. She wouldn’t like to look like a desperate tourist who couldn’t even wait for the day to break.

“Alright Signora, in what way may I help you?” He asked, making an attempt and almost mingling the sonorous drawl of an Italian language with his English.

“Actuall, I’m Emily Bradley from the Cable News Network (CNN)”, she said, groping for her ID in her sky blue snake skin clutch bag and handing it over to him. He walked over to an overhead street lamp to get a better view, Emily trailed behind as a blazing red Toyota Camry pulled up. When he was satisfied, he looked up at her, a scrutinizing look on his face.

“You come at such an early hour, miss”.

“I’m on a special assignment from Pope”.

“Your confirmation ID?”, he demanded. A wave of confusion washed over her face; she didn’t have this coming.

“Sorry?” She enquired, attempting a convincing smile.

“Signora, per favour!I demand your confirmation ID!”

Just as they were arguing, they heard some distraction and noise behind. The St. Peter’s Square was a few meters opposite the swiss Guard’s barracks. The walkie-talkie clasped on the guards’ belt rang.

“Hello, Signore Monte”, he said and listened while the person on the other side spoke.

“What? St. Peter’s Square? I’ll be there in a minute, Signore. Eh, I have a lady here”, he said, stealing a quick glance at the lady and then at the metallic ID

“One Ms. Emily Bradley, a reporter and she claims to be on a papal assignment but she could not provide a confirmation ID”, he said and listened.

“Okay”, he said afterwards and eyed the pretty young woman while strapping back his walkie-talkie. He handed her the I’d card and pulled out a Bluetooth ear piece from his b----t pocket. After turning it on, he carefully strapped it on his ear.

“Pardon me, but strange things are happening recently. The papal palace was attacked just this night. We can’t afford to take chances again”.

“Attacked? What’s all this about?” She asked.

The Guard shrugged, “Basta cosi per cosi per I’ll memento!” (The lesser you know the better).

Get into the car, let’s go”, he said in poor English.

☆☆

1. 00 A.M.
   PALACE OF HOLY OFFICE, ROME.

The College of Cardinals sat down in the cushions that were arranged in neat four rows. Some were fingering their rosary, while some others occupied themselves with silent meditation and prayer.

The large chapel of the Holy Office was gracefully designed with frescoes depicting scenes from the Old Testament on its vaulted ceiling. The walls were awash with lush mosaics with lurid details depicting the twelve apostles, each represented with his symbol of apostles. A gold chandelier which was ornately designed with lapis lazuli gems and glass, held over 50 scented candles whose reflection on the gems gave the chapel a peaceful aura and a prayerful atmosphere. Stained glasses served as louvers and separated the vaulted ceiling from the stucco walls. In front of the chapel was an ivory life size crucifix and ‘INRI’ sign was engraved in gold.

Fredrick Cardinal Bernozio stood up and quitely walked to the Cardinal Dean, Joseph Cardinal Franzio.

“A moment, please”, he whispered

“The Holy Father is yet to arrive for the divine office. I wonder if something is wrong”, Cardinal Bernozio said in an exasperated voice when they got to the adjoinig corridor.

The septuagenarian Cardinal Dean shrugged, ”I’ve been worried myself. The whole cardinals are almost becoming impatient”.

“I wonder what the Curia would think of this. They have always been at his neck endlessly for inefficiency”.

“Leave the Roman Curia out of this, brother”, he said with a shrug.

“Why not contact the Chief of the Swiss Guards?”

“I thought about it. I just hope it’s not something serious. It gives room for serious concern. Papa Georgia is never late to any function…..” He paused as a swiss Guard rounded a corner and came into view, their attention turned towards him.

“Morning, my Lord”, he greeted kneeling in reverence.

“Any news?” They asked.

“The Holy Father wants to see you, my lord, the Cardinal Dean”.

“Myself? I hope all is well?

“Si, grazia a Dio (By the grace of God).He demands urgent attention, my Lord”.

“I’ll be there right away,Dio vi benedicto,”he said making the sign of the cross.

“Thank you so much, my lord”, he said and briskly walked away.

“Obviously, neither yourself nor the Pope would be present for this morning’s divine office”, Cardinal Bernozio said.

“I suggest you go on with it, let me run along and know why the Holy Father is seeking my attention”.

“With all pleasure, brother”, he said and made his way back to the chapel.

————————————————————-

☆☆

“And that means that we won’t be able to get our men over there”, he said sitting down on a nearby desk.

Elroy shrugged. “In the recorded message, he made it clear that he would raze down the major structures in the Vatican City, if the bargain was not kept”.

“But he seemed to be mugging things up. He can’t expect the Vatican to risk the life of the world most renowned world leader under such unreasonable conditions. I mean, it’s unreasonable”.

The worst is that his men must have infilterated the Vatican City”, Elroy said wiping the screen of his iPhone on the hem of his black polo.

“Honestly, when I first listened to that s--t, I discarded it as stupid, but it seems to be turning into something else. Malcom!” He called over Elroy.

“Yes boos!” He answered, peeking from behind his workstation.

“Send the results to my office, and Vittorio, run comprehensive list of all those who entered Rome on an African visa seventy-two hours from now, send it over too. Be fast about it, time is not on our side”.

I’m on it, sir”.

“That’s a good place to start, don’t you think?”

“Uh-huh. Of course, I guess you’re right” Elroy said looking up from the smartphone and jabbing it into his pocket.

☆☆

“And that means that we won’t be able to get our men over there”, he said sitting down on a nearby desk.

Elroy shrugged. “In the recorded message, he made it clear that he would raze down the major structures in the Vatican City, if the bargain was not kept”.

“But he seemed to be mugging things up. He can’t expect the Vatican to risk the life of the world most renowned world leader under such unreasonable conditions. I mean, it’s unreasonable”.

The worst is that his men must have infilterated the Vatican City”, Elroy said wiping the screen of his iPhone on the hem of his black polo.

“Honestly, when I first listened to that s--t, I discarded it as stupid, but it seems to be turning into something else. Malcom!” He called over Elroy.

“Yes boos!” He answered, peeking from behind his workstation.

“Send the results to my office, and Vittorio, run comprehensive list of all those who entered Rome on an African visa seventy-two hours from now, send it over too. Be fast about it, time is not on our side”.

I’m on it, sir”.

“That’s a good place to start, don’t you think?”

“Uh-huh. Of course, I guess you’re right” Elroy said looking up from the smartphone and jabbing it into his pocket.

He promised to unleash more terror if the Vatican refuse to concede to his demands. This is likely a war of some sort”, he explained breathlessly.

They now rounded the massive St. Peter’s Basilica, and Emily took a little time to take a sneak peek at the massive church. Thankfully, the entrance doors were open and she swung out her camera. A huge hand grabbed her.

“I’m sorry, ma. But there’s no time for this”, Marcenza said pulling her along.

“D--n! I couldn’t even get a shot”.

A few meters away, close to the gate of the Vatican garden was a helipad. The Swiss Guard stopped abruptly, Emily bumped into him. He ignored her and tapped his earpiece.

“Eccoci qui, Signore (We’re here, sir)”, he said and listened.

“There’s no problem”, he said and turned to her, “The chopper would be here in five minutes”.

Emily was unable to tear her gaze from the beauty of the Vatican garden. The freshly manicured trees and flowers were tendered to a maze-like finish. Umbrella trees were dotted of different spots providing shade to relaxation chairs.

‘Rome seems to be a pretty place for vacation’, she made a mental note to come back on a later date, more for pleasure than being dragged around by a Swiss Guard.

Just then, the distant whirl of helicopter blades shattered the serenity of the garden.

The yellow chopper came into view, it had the emblem of the Vatican City designed on both sides; two crossed keys with a mitre behind them on a half-yellow, half-white background.

The helicopter touched down on the helipad, sending leaves and dust into the air.

Emily blocked her face with an arm.

“You’ve got to get going”, Marcenza said urging her forward. She lowered her head and made for the vehicle. The Swiss Guard was saying something behind her but the blades of the helicopter drowned his voice.

She sat down on the leather seat and turned in time to see him waving”, she waved back smiling and in no time, the helicopter took off.

To be continued.

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