“Mario! We don’t have time for questions,” Benoit snapped, his grip tightening. “Hand me your wallet. Now.”

Without protest, Mario complied, handing over his wallet.

“Take this,” Benoit commanded, extracting a card from his shirt pocket and thrusting it into Mario’s hands. “It’s your survival guide. For the next quarter of an hour, you must be a statue, a ghost. Understand?”

“Yes. Be still and silent for fifteen minutes.”

Benoit stood, his gaze drilling into Mario’s eyes. “Not a sound.”

Mario bobbed his head in affirmation, his eyes glued to the stranger garbed in priestly attire as he sprinted down the alleyway towards the street where the assassin lay in wait. Mario watched as his “twin” glanced at the assassin, then pivoted left to flee. Mario’s breath hitched as his twin’s face erupted, his body crumpling to the ground. He watched in abject horror as blood spurted from his head, staining the pavement fifty yards away.

Fourteen agonizing seconds later, the assassin sauntered up to the lifeless body. His hands coldly rifled through the twin’s back pocket and retrieved Mario’s wallet. After confirming the identity of the corpse, he slid the wallet back into the lifeless man’s pocket. Then, with a chilling nonchalance, he dragged the body behind a mound of garbage bags just inside the alley.

A stray cat emerged from the shadows behind the dumpster and brushed past Mario, causing a bottle to topple. The assassin’s head snapped towards the sound. Drawing his gun, he stalked down the alley towards the dumpster. As he neared it, gun raised, the startled cat bolted.

Pffff. The silenced gun whispered its deadly secret as it discharged; the bullet tore through the cat, splattering its innards across the dumpster.

“Fucking cat,” Alistar spat, his voice laced with annoyance. He holstered his weapon and pulled out his cell phone. His fingers danced across the buttons for a moment, followed by a definitive tap.

With a final glance at the crime scene, Alistar slid the cell phone into the inside pocket of his suit and left the alley.

Mario exhaled slowly, his heart still pounding like a drum as he watched the assassin disappear around the corner. A sense of familiarity about the malevolent hitman stirred in the depths of his memory, like a ghostly echo. He closed his eyes, his head dropping forward weighed down by the storm of thoughts swirling in his mind.

Who was he? Mario wrestling with the mystery of the double who had just sacrificed his life for him. The memory of the card the doppelganger handed him flashed in his mind. With a sense of urgency, he pulled it out, his eyes scanning the instructions.

Your life is in danger. They are looking for you.

Do not trust anyone until you get to this address.

His twin had given him clear instructions: stay put for fifteen minutes. Mario would wait, then make his way to the address on the card. His mind was a battlefield, thinking of the innocent lives lost the past few hours: Roberto murdered and made to look like he’d overdosed; the prostitute who had set him up, also supposedly overdosed; two innocent women gunned down for being in the wrong place at the wrong time; this mysterious stranger, the body double, who had sacrificed his life to save Mario’s. Why was all this happening?

“It’s that damn journal,” Mario cursed quietly.

He huddled behind the dumpster, legs drawn up to his chest, his chin resting on his knees, waiting for the agonizing fifteen minutes to pass. Glancing at his watch, he realized he had been lost in thought for more than eighteen minutes. Fear gripped him, making him hesitant to leave the safety of this makeshift haven. What would he find at that address? More death?

Taking a deep, steadying breath, he rose to his feet and peeked out around the dumpster to make sure that it was safe. Slowly, he began his cautious journey down the alleyway. As he reached the end of the alley, he couldn’t help but glance at the lifeless body of his “twin”, the pool of blood around him a grim reminder of his fate. Stepping out further, Mario looked both ways to ensure the coast was clear. Turning left, he set off in the direction of the address on the card.

Chapter 75

March 11, 2000

Saturday, 10:14 a.m.

Rome, Italy

With a sense of trepidation, Mario approached the address inscribed on the card: the Trinity Bank of Italy. He double-checked the address on the card, then lifted his gaze up to the bank’s imposing edifice. This must be it, he thought. He ventured inside, his eyes meeting the greeter stationed in the grand lobby.

“May I assist you, Father?” asked the man clad in a meticulously tailored double-breasted blue Italian suit, crisp white shirt, and vibrant red tie. His name tag read: Xavier, Greeter.

“I’m not entirely sure. I was given this card with instructions to come here.” Mario presented the card to the impeccably dressed greeter.

Xavier scrutinized the card. “Ah, yes. We’ve been eagerly awaiting your arrival.” He returned the card to Mario and said with a voice laced with intrigue, “Please, accompany me.” With a swift pivot, he began to navigate towards the bank vault, bypassing the tellers with an air of authority.

Mario hesitated, his feet cemented to the polished marble floor. The cryptic card had cautioned him to trust no one until he reached this destination. Was he expected to place his trust in the hands of the individuals at this bank?

Observing Mario’s hesitation, Xavier retraced his steps. He leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. “We’re privy to the incident involving your twin.” His gaze was unflinching, piercing into Mario’s soul. “Please, allow me to guide you to a secure location.”

Mario was taken aback by Xavier’s revelation. How was he aware of the events that had unfolded merely an hour ago? Who could have even witnessed them? The assassin had gunned down the only other souls around.

With his options dwindling and his twin’s sacrifice still fresh on his mind, Mario decided to follow his instincts and trust this individual. Xavier again gestured for him to follow, so he did. Mario was led through a gated area into a restricted zone. As they approached the vault, Xavier swung open the imposing steel door, ushering Mario inside. Once within the confines of the vault, Xavier secured the door, effectively locking them in. He turned to face Mario. “Mario, our primary objective is your safety.”

“How do you know my name?”

“We’ve had you under surveillance for several weeks now. I’m here to escort you to a more secure location where you’ll be safe.”

Xavier’s gaze shifted to the safe deposit boxes that lined the room from floor to ceiling. He reached for a box at eye level, numbered 1013, and pressed the two keyholes. Suddenly, the room began to descend. The bank vault, adorned with genuine safe deposit boxes, was in fact an elevator.

Mario’s heart pounded in his chest as the vault continued its descent. “Where are you taking me?”

“To our secure subterranean facility.”

When the vault-elevator came to a halt, Xavier swung open the door to reveal an underground area that resembled a professional office space. It was akin to a floor in a high-rise building, minus the windows. Mario stepped out, taking in the expansive area. A man in a finely tailored brown suit strode past with folder in hand, heading towards a meeting down the hall. Another man, also in a suit, moved in the opposite direction to a boardroom meeting. Inside the boardroom, Mario could see four men huddled over a large blueprint, engaged in a heated discussion. They glanced up as Mario exited the elevator; their expressions suggested they were familiar with his identity.

A man of impeccable taste approached Mario. He was exquisitely dressed in his single-breasted dark grey suit, crisp white shirt, and red tie, a testament to the Templar’s refined dress code. His hair was slicked back, and his Italian shoes gleamed under the office lights. “Mario, we’ve been eagerly awaiting your arrival,” the man said, extending his hand in a welcoming gesture. The bold red letters on his white nametag identified him as Dominic.

Eyeing the nametag, Mario replied, “Why am I here?”

Dominic nodded to Xavier, silently signaling that he would take over from here. Xavier retreated into the vault, closing the door behind him before it began its ascent back to street level.

“Follow me, I’ll explain everything,” Dominic gestured, his arm sweeping down the hallway towards his office. Mario, his curiosity piqued, followed Dominic’s lead. Stepping into the office, Mario was greeted by a visual feast of thirteenth-and-fourteenth-century battle scenes. Knights in full regalia atop their steeds, swords drawn, dominated the paintings. A flag bearing a red cross on a white background fluttered in the breeze, held aloft by another knight. Dark-brown bookcases filled to the brim with tomes lined an entire wall.

Dominic circled his desk and sank into his high-backed leather chair. “Please, take a seat.”

Mario complied, settling into the leather chair opposite Dominic’s.

“Mario, I understand you must have a myriad of questions. This morning has been quite eventful for you.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Mario retorted, Roberto’s sarcasm echoing in his voice.

“We’ve had our eyes on you for several weeks now.”

“Xavier mentioned that. But why? What have I done?” Mario leaned forward, his anticipation palpable.

“Perhaps it would be best if I start by explaining who we are.”

Mario listened, his mind a whirl of confusion and curiosity.

“We are the Poor Fellow-Soldiers of Christ. You may know us as the Knights Templar.”