Roberto’s eyes scanned through the hundreds of JPEG files contained in the folder. “Damn, you’ve been busy, dude.”
Mario, recalling where he had stopped reading, pointed on the monitor. “Click on that one.”
Roberto clicked on the indicated JPEG file.
3 March 1939
The Art of War
The greatest victory is that which requires no battle.
I Am Pope.
On my sixty-third birthday yesterday, the Council fulfilled my ascension to the papacy. My confirmation was the fastest in history, requiring a mere three ballots. Thanks to the Council’s influence, all sixty-two cardinals took part in the voting, helping to push through my landslide victory.
The Council instructed I take the name Pope Pius XII in honor of both my predecessor and the founder of the Vatican Secret Archives. An honor, indeed.
I am grateful to you, Grandfather, for this honor. It was your hand that guided me to the papacy. Now I am positioned to fulfill the Council’s mission. I will not disappoint you.
Roberto’s eyes scanned the journal entry, his brow furrowing in confusion. “So, he ascended to the papacy. What’s the significance of that?” he questioned, his tone laced with skepticism.
“It’s more than that, Berto,” Mario said, his voice trembling. “They had Pope Pius XI killed so Pacelli could become pope.”
Roberto’s eyes widened, his gaze flicking back to the monitor as he digested the revelation. “Alright, slow down,” he said, his fingers tracing the lines of text on the screen. “What’s this reference to The Art of War about?”
Mario’s eyes gleamed with a mix of fear and trepidation. “Pacelli liked to cite strategies from The Art of War to show off how he manipulated Hitler into becoming the Führer of the Third Reich. His grandfather gifted him a translated version of that ancient text when he was just twelve. He must have studied it more than his Bible.”
“Seriously?” Roberto’s voice contained a mixture of disbelief and intrigue. He closed the JPEG file, his hand hovering over the mouse in trepidation before clicking on the next.
2 September 1939
The Art of War
#26 Attack where he is unprepared.
Sally out when he does not expect you.
Hitler invaded Poland as instructed. Nazi ground forces breached the Polish army’s defenses at the border between Germany and Poland. They are now en route to take possession of the capital. The Luftwaffe already destroyed the Polish Air Force, leaving the skies clear for the ground forces’ unchallenged dominance. Their Panzer tanks have cut through Polish defenses with precision. The expansion of Nazi-occupied territory is proceeding as planned.
We have coerced the Soviet Union into signing the German-Soviet Nonaggression Pact in exchange for two-thirds of Polish lands. This arrangement will keep them out of the war.
The Council’s mission is proceeding exceedingly well.
“Holy shit,” Roberto blurted out. “Are you sure this thing is real?”
“From what I’ve read, it’s the real deal. Seems like Pacelli’s actual journal,” Mario replied. He hesitated. “I need you to do something.”
Roberto’s gaze shot up to meet Mario’s, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. He had never heard his friend speak with such a tone of voice.
Mario handed Roberto a new microSD card he’d purchased before coming over. “Make a copy and keep it hidden.”
Roberto promptly plugged it into another port, closed the JPEG and the file folder, then copied the files onto the new microSD Card. “Done.”
Mario extended his hand. “Give me my SD card.”
Roberto complied, removing Mario’s original and placing it in his waiting palm. Mario then walked over to the plush leather sofa where he delved into his backpack to retrieve a bag from the local pharmacy.
Roberto’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What’s with the first aid kit?”
Mario’s gaze pierced into Roberto with an intensity that was hard to ignore. “I’ve been thinking about this all the way over here. I need you to implant this into my flesh to ensure it never falls into the wrong hands.”
“What the . . . What?"
“You took some pre-med courses in college, didn’t you?”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“Maybe it’s that your conspiracy theories have seeped into my brain or something, but I’m convinced this needs to be hidden. The safest hiding place I could think of was inside my body. This way I’ll always know where it is. Will you do it?”
Roberto glanced from his friend to the first aid kit. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Dead serious. There’s something not right about this journal and it terrifies the bejeebies out of me.”
“Alright, alright, I’ll do it,” Roberto conceded, joining Mario by the couch and peering into the bag. “Did you get everything we’ll need?”
