The Second Messiah

The Serb had the patience of a hunter. He remained across the street from the security barrier manned by Vatican guards. He wandered around the square but stayed close enough to observe the barrier and the waiting taxi. Every now and then he played his role of tourist and used the video cam but eventually he folded his tourist map, stuffed the camera in the travel bag hanging from his shoulder, and strolled back to the Lancia. He leaned his elbow on the open window, grumbling to Nidal, “There’s still no sign of the couple.”

Nidal’s eyes glinted as he stared past him. “You’re wrong. Our wait’s over.”

The Serb spun round to see the couple stroll out of the Vatican. He clutched the bag on his shoulder. Tucked inside he felt the firm outline of the MAC-10 machine pistol next to the video camera. “Get ready. This is where the fun starts.”

Cardinal Liam Kelly hurried along the corridors to his Vatican office. He stepped into a room with high ceilings and decorated with exquisite antiques.

A young priest-secretary was at a desk and as he started to rise, Kelly said, “I need to make an urgent private call and don’t want to be disturbed.”

“Of course, Excellency.”

Kelly entered his sumptuous office. He closed the door behind him, sat at a polished teak desk, and dabbed his brow with a handkerchief as he picked up his desk phone. He hastily punched a number. A soft voice answered, “Yes?”

Kelly recognized an anxious quiver in his own tone. “It’s Liam. We need to meet and talk. Cane visited the archives as arranged.”

“And?”

“Bad news. He knew about the marble. He also talked about the Atbash code and about what happened in Maloula.”

“What’s your opinion, Liam?”

“I think we’re looking at dangerous trouble. It’s a cancer that needs to be cut out or this thing is going to destroy us all.”

74

Ari peered through the binoculars. “We’re in business. Here they come.”

Lela observed Cane and Yasmin exit through the Vatican security hut. They talked briefly with the cabdriver, then crossed the square toward a café. Ignoring the tables on the pavement, they moved inside and sat by a window.

At that precise moment Cohen’s cell phone rang. He answered and turned to Ari. “That was Mario. Cane just asked him to wait another twenty minutes while they go have a coffee.”

Lela concentrated on the two men. The brutal-faced, leather-jacketed one now wandered closer to the café, clutching the travel bag hanging from his shoulder. The Arab was still seated in the silver Lancia and facing in the café’s direction, his eyes hidden behind dark glasses.

Ari swept the scene with the binoculars. “My gut tells me we’re going to see some action pretty soon. The Arab and his buddy are circling like buzzards, waiting for their chance.”

“What do you think’s going down?” Lela asked.

“Who knows? Maybe they’re potential buyers and want Cane’s scroll.”

“What should we do?”

Ari tossed aside the binoculars. “Play the cards as they fall. You and I will try to move a little closer to the action, see what goes down. If we notice anything being exchanged, we move in.”

“And do what?”

“Snatch Cane and the woman. The Arab and his buddy are not our concern at this moment. Unless it looks like they’re taking possession of the scroll, then it’s a different matter.”

“Making a snatch in broad daylight is crazy, Ari.”

“We’ve no choice. Cohen has a safe house ten minutes away we can use for the interrogation. Mario and Cohen will stop the Arab and his buddy from leaving if we think they’re in possession of the scroll or if they try to follow us.”

“We’re spreading ourselves thin, Ari. There are only four of us.”

Ari grinned. “Cohen and Mario might not look it, but they’re trained Mossad professionals. I’ve every confidence in them.” He reached under his seat and handed another Sig pistol and three loaded magazines to Lela. “Just in case.”

Lela took the pistol and magazines.

They saw the leather-jacketed man casually walk back toward the Arab, lean in the driver’s window, and engage him in conversation. Both men stared in the direction of the café, and Jack and Yasmin.

Ari racked the Sig’s slide to chamber a round before he tucked the weapon in his jacket pocket. “Pay attention, everyone. I’ve got a feeling the Arab and his pal are debating a move. Cohen, you know the drill. Keep your engine running and follow close behind us. Lela, you come walk with me. What’s up? You look worried.”

“I—I’m fine.” Lela cocked her Sig and slid the pistol inside her jacket. “I just don’t want to see anyone get hurt.”

Ari moved to open the car door. “If Cane doesn’t make a fuss that shouldn’t happen. Okay, let’s get in position. Cohen, call Mario, put him in the loop. And caution’s the word, everyone. I don’t want any of us going home in a body bag.”

The busy café smelled of espresso and delicious pastries. Jack and Yasmin each ordered coffee and sat by a window with a partial view of the Vatican. When the waiter brought their coffees, Jack took a sip. “Sorry about the indignity back there. How do you feel?”