Veil - 02 - The Hammer of God (22 page)

Sister Bravo smirked. “Well, go crazy then. I don’t care.” She turned to leave.

Samuel dove at her feet and held on tight. “Please, I’m sorry! I promise I’ll do what you say! My father’s dead! I’m all alone! Don’t leave me!”

Sister Bravo shook him off. Samuel slid back into a corner, hugging himself, shaking. Sister Bravo just stared, suspicious and scowling.

Samuel dropped his head and cried. He heard the door close and looked up. She was gone. He continued to snivel and cry for a half hour then laid down on the cot, not sure his act was having the desired effect. The door opened, and Sister Bravo entered with Father Clancy in tow.

Samuel sat up. The nun and priest glared.

“One hour a day, two on Sundays,” Sister Bravo finally said. “But this time, you run, you die. I swear it.” Samuel crawled off the bed, ran over and hugged Sister Bravo, clinging to her like a cub, eyes squeezed together tight. “I won’t run,” he lied, sniffling, knowing he was going to give it one last try.

R
obert, Thorne and Sister Isabella observed Torre Astura castle from a heavily wooded area two hundred and fifty yards away. Late in the evening, a light mist eased across the water around the castle, and a crisp breeze rattled the trees and brush.

Robert, on his stomach between the two women, adjusted his binoculars and closely examined the castle structure and the area around it. Torre Astura was a much smaller version of the medieval edifices Robert toured in other European cities and towns, including the magnificent German castles along the Rhine. Although the sandstone building he now scanned up and down, was no less an unapproachable fortress. A tall tower, about five stories high, stood like a giant in the middle of the castle, with no windows facing the woods.

Robert counted five small windows along the front of the castle, which was two and a half stories high, with one large wooden door at the entrance. A large courtyard, about fifty square yards, sat in front of the building, all separated by a narrow stone bridge about fifteen hundred feet long.

In front of the courtyard, a much smaller two story stone building sat in between the woods and the castle, fifty yards away. A dirt road, the only entrance and exit by land, ran along the woods and curved toward the castle. On the left side of the road was a small reef of jagged rocks and open water; on the other side high grass and brush.

“We know several of The Order’s people are holed up inside,” whispered Sister Isabella. “But there’s been no sign of Samuel at all.”

“They’re keeping him deep undercover,” said Robert. “But it’s so secluded out here, you’d think they’d at least let him out for air.”

“Or maybe he’s not here at all,” said Thorne.

Robert didn’t answer. He wanted very much to believe Samuel was only two hundred fifty yards away, and dismissed any other notion or thought. His heart quickened when he saw the castle front door swing open.

Two priests walked outside and lit up cigarettes. After a few moments, a nun, with one of the most alluring faces Robert had ever seen, joined the two and lit up a smoke of her own. Robert examined each face, watching as they talked and laughed, offering no hint of the evil Cardinal Maximilian spoke of. Instead, they seemed quite normal, a trio like those he’d observed a thousand times in more than a few places around the world. However, Robert didn’t dismiss the cardinal’s words of warning. He’d seen childlike pleading turn on a dime, becoming dark and lecherous, menacing and deadly. If they truly held Samuel in the fortress, he’d treat them like the worst criminals he’d ever known, and if needed, he’d kill every one of them.

“I’m going to move a little closer,” said Thorne. “See if there’s another way inside.”

“I’ll go with you,” shot Robert.

“No,” said Thorne gently. “Wait here and see if you can spot Samuel. You have a better angle and view from here.” Sister Isabella agreed. Robert gritted his teeth and stared his partner in the eye. “Alright,” he finally conceded, “I’ll continue to look from here.”

Thorne blew him a kiss.

The three of them were draped head to toe in army camouflage fatigues that mixed in with the greenery, beige dirt and foliage around the castle. The mist just off the lake had grown thick and was almost on shore. Soon, their visibility would be next to nothing, and they’d be done for the night.

Thorne slithered toward the bush, moving herself forward on her elbows and knees. Robert monitored her movement, while Sister Isabella kept an eye on the three clerics still smoking and in deep conversation.

Just as Thorne hit the bushes, Robert heard the low rev of multiple car engines coming their way. He looked toward Thorne, who now faced him. She signaled that she heard it too and disappeared into the tall grass.

Robert and Sister Isabella followed suit, and backed further into the dense woods until they were sure it was impossible to see them from the road. The car engines grew louder. Soon, a dark green Audi, and a black, late modeled Mercedes zoomed by and headed toward the castle.

Robert and Sister Isabella resumed their position. There was no sign of Thorne.

The cars drove across the bridge and stopped directly in front of the castle. Four men exited the Audi toting machine guns. An old man, accompanied by a beautiful woman who reminded Robert of Sophia Loren in her heyday, stepped out of the Mercedes and hugged the priests and nun like they were old friends. A single flash of light coming from the brush caught Robert’s attention. He honed in on it with his binoculars, got the thumbs up from Thorne, and turned his attention back to the castle.

Robert watched as the old man and nun did most of the talking. The sun was almost down, and the mist had finally reached shore. Like eerie long fingers, it wrapped around the castle, seeped into the grass, and floated across the courtyard like in a Dracula movie. The old man kissed the nun, who turned and hugged the Sophia Loren lookalike, then they both climbed back in the Mercedes and drove off. This time, Robert and Sister Isabella didn’t back up as far, wanting to get a look inside the car.

The Mercedes drove by them at a much slower pace. The nun and priests went back inside the castle.

“I recognized the old man and his daughter,” said Sister Isabella.

“Rinaldo and Dianora Calabrese, they’re mafia.” Robert watched as two of the four men they left behind took up positions in front of the castle. The other two slid back inside the Audi.

“I’m going out there with Thorne,” said Robert.

“It’s not safe to move right now. They have extra eyes. You might be seen,” said Sister Isabella.

Robert ignored her and quickly crawled toward the grass. Just as he reached it, he ran into Thorne, who was on her way back.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” she asked.

“It’s getting dark,” he whispered. “I want one last look.” Thorne rolled her eyes and kept moving. Aided by the wind and mist, Robert continued through the grass, stopping just a few feet from the dirt road. The front door of the castle opened. The two armed guards carefully panned their eyes across the area. The two priests came back outside, but neither were laughing or talking as they had been earlier.

The nun followed them outside. Robert’s eyes focused. She was holding the hand of a little boy.
Samuel!

Robert’s first instinct was to charge out blazing, but a cooler head prevailed.
If I miss, they might kill him.
He wondered if Thorne and Sister Isabella could see the activity that was taking place. The sun was now completely set, and the entire area blanketed in fog. The nun placed Samuel in the backseat of the Audi, and the priests slid in on each side of him.

The nun went back inside the castle as the car drove across the courtyard and parked halfway. As quickly as he could without being seen, Robert crawled toward them, staying low, grateful for the extra protection provided by the thickening fog. He stopped five feet from the edge of the grass, raised his head slightly, and saw Samuel, his face dreary and sad, walking around the courtyard, his hands in a blue windbreaker that didn’t look like it was enough to keep him warm.

Robert wanted to cry out, reach out, but the two gunmen stuck close to Samuel’s side, watching his every move. The two priests watched him closely too, but stayed next to the car and smoked.

The area was now completely dark. Robert moved in for a closer look, stopping just at the edge of the brush. One of the priests turned on the Audi’s headlights, which sent him scrambling backwards. Samuel continued to pace back and forth, kicking rocks, stretching, but not doing much more.

“It’s time to go back inside,” one of the priests bellowed.

“But she said I could have an hour,” pleaded Samuel.

So, he’s out for an hour at a time. Good information.

“Okay, but we’re going back inside in ten minutes,” the priest added, impatiently.

Samuel said thank you and continued to walk the courtyard. Robert removed a small penlight from his jacket, and waited for an opening to signal Samuel.

“Time’s up,” the priest said, exactly ten minutes later. “Let’s head back.”

For a second, the two guards looked toward the car. Robert thought he saw Samuel look in his direction, so he flashed the light on and off one time. But as he did, Samuel looked away, and a sinking feeling hit Robert’s gut. He missed, but at least he knew his godson was okay, and where he was being held.

“I’ll be back, Samuel,” he whispered. “Sit tight.” The two priests got back inside the car, one in the backseat, one behind the wheel, and drove back to the castle.

Robert eyed the two gunmen, who were headed in his direction. He eased back, chest pressed against the ground, listening closely as the guards’ footsteps crunched gravel and dirt, inching closer to his hiding place. The wind kicked up hard and the fog grew even heavier, giving Robert the advantage. He continued to back up, head low, until he reached the end of the brush, stopping just above a small cliff of jagged rocks, a few feet from the sea. The two guards flipped on their flashlights.

“We’ll check the area, then head inside for the night,” said one guard.

“Fine with me, it’s cold as hell out here. Besides, I could use a glass of wine and some food.”

Good, they didn’t see me
. Robert held his position. The guards panned their lights back and forth, circling around on each side of him.

They pointed the beams in his direction, but Robert knew the fog would reflect the light, making it difficult for them to see him from a distance.

The guards moved halfway through the brush. Robert crawled forward and passed between them, ten feet on each side. The guards examined the rocks and reef, then headed back toward the courtyard.

Robert stayed low, motionless. He caught a whiff of tobacco as one of the guards lit up.

“Let’s eat,” said one of the guards. “Sister Bravo said the place is fully stocked. We’ll check the grounds again at daybreak.” The guards reached the courtyard and made a beeline for the small two-story house, their flashlight beams bouncing along in front of them like fireflies. Robert rose to a low crouch and made good time back to Thorne and Sister Isabella, as the guards disappeared inside the house.

“That was mighty close, big boy,” said Thorne. “We thought they had you. Thank goodness for the fog. What was the flash of light all about?”

Robert took a deep breath, as though he’d been holding it in for the past hour. “Did you see him?” he finally asked.

“See who?” asked Sister Isabella.

“Samuel.”

Both women froze.

“I saw him,” Robert continued, still breathing hard. “He’s inside.” Thorne smiled.

Sister Isabella said a brief prayer. “Let’s get back to the house,” she said when she finished. “We’ll need a plan before we go in.” Robert and Thorne agreed. The three of them stood and walked along the dirt road toward their car, which was covered with brush and tree limbs two miles away. They stayed just inside the wooded area out of sight, Sister Isabella and Thorne five feet ahead, Robert lagging behind, watching the castle get smaller. Robert stopped abruptly and called out to Thorne and Sister Isabella, who spun around.

The three of them stared in wonder as a ball of flames streaked from the backside of the castle, and disappeared into the lake.

T
o his surprise, Samuel, asleep on his cot, was shaken awake by Sister Bravo late in the evening, after a dinner of garlic drenched pasta, hard rolls, lemon ice cream and more soda, 7 Up this time.

“One hour outside,” she said plainly, tossing him a navy blue windbreaker.

Samuel didn’t debate. Tired of confinement in the tower bedroom, the chance to walk around in the open lifted his spirits. He slipped on the jacket, a genuine smile on his face, and grabbed the nun’s hand. She stared down at him, her eyes warning,
no foolishness.

The hallway outside the bedroom was much darker than the bedroom, and Samuel gripped Sister Bravo’s hand tighter as she lead the way down a circular stone stairway. At the bottom, his eyes easily adjusted to the increase in light. It seemed that the entire castle was lit with either candles or very low watt bulbs, adding to the building’s dreary medieval atmosphere.

Careful not to be obvious, Samuel kept his head forward as Sister Bravo marched him through a large, windowless, sparsely furnished room with blank walls and a stone floor. The room was warm, much warmer than his, aided by the large fire he saw blazing in the fireplace.

Off to the right, he caught a glimpse of what he guessed to be the kitchen, which looked more modern than the rest of what he’d seen. The ceiling was high, with thick dark wooden beams holding it in place.

Samuel wondered where Sister Bravo and the two priests slept, but dared not turn his head and give himself away.
I’ll see more on my way back.

They reached a gigantic wooden door. Sister Bravo leaned her shoulder into it and pushed. Outside, the answer to Samuel’s next question stood smoking cigarettes. Fathers Clancy and Murphy stamped out their smokes. The sun was nowhere in sight, and a light mist made the area around the castle look hazy and bleak. The wind cut through Samuel’s windbreaker, but he ignored it. He didn’t care. Each breath of air, however, tinged with algae and dead fish, soothed his spirit in a way he hadn’t experienced in a long time.