Hannah was utterly devastated by this shocking twist of fate. She found it inconceivable that she was bartering her own flesh and blood to the Holy See.
Each individual has their own demons, she mused.
She tried to detach her mind from the sacrilegious act being committed by her Supreme Pontiff, who was now becoming increasingly forceful. Even the pope, she realized, was not immune to the carnal cravings of the human body. His breaths were becoming more labored now; Hannah’s thoughts shifted to the imminent liberation of her parents from the concentration camp. The thought of their reunion filled her with a sense of joy that was almost overwhelming. Her mind flooded with memories of a time not so long ago when the Nazi regime plunged Europe into chaos with their radical ideologies. She vividly recalled the heart-wrenching moment she’d been torn away from her parents upon entering the Treblinka extermination camp. She was herded with the other attractive females in one direction while her parents were led away to the labor camp.
Engulfed in her own mental fortress, distanced from physical reality, she barely heard the pope release his long guttural groan, a clear indication he had climaxed within her. She remained still, a statue frozen in time, until the Supreme Pontiff’s spasms subsided. Using her hips for support, he retreated from Hannah, his cassock falling back into place, concealing any trace of their illicit encounter.
Still bent over, her fingers white-knuckled as they gripped the back of the couch, Hannah remained statuelike, her mind racing with thoughts of what to do next. She dared to glance sideways, catching a glimpse of the pope in her peripheral vision. He stood there motionless, his gaze fixed on her.
“Turn around,” he commanded.
Summoning the strength to push away from the back of the couch, Hannah straightened, turning to face the pope. Overwhelmed by humiliation, she didn’t even attempt to shield her exposed body, instead locking her gaze with the man who had just violated her.
“You will ensure this matter remains our secret, my child.”
The words “my child” rolling off the Supreme Pontiff’s tongue broke her—a wave of revulsion swept through Hannah. After their encounter, she was far from the innocent girl she had once was. Driven by the desperate need to free her parents from their prison, she had been willing to do whatever it took. She just hadn’t anticipated it would come to this.
“Of course, Your . . . Holiness.”
“I will see what I can do to get your parents freed from prison,” Pius XII declared, then retreated to his table by the window to indulge in his meal.
Hannah swiftly comprehended that their clandestine rendezvous had reached its conclusion. She darted over to her discarded garments and dressed with a haste born of desperation. Tying off her ribbons, she snatched up her shoes and made a beeline for the door, eager to escape the pope’s private chambers. She turned the key and slipped out the door, praying she could avoid any unwanted encounters with the other staff of the castel.
The meal Hannah had brought was now a quarter of an hour past its prime. Pope Pius XII reached for the glass of Chianti, indulging in a customary sip before commencing his midday repast. As he gazed out at the serene expanse of Lake Albano, a sense of relaxation washed over him, a postcoital tranquility. A gentle breeze played with the sleeves of his cassock, and the pontiff found himself contemplating a leisurely siesta.
Chapter 55
21 August 1941
Castel Gandolfo, Italy
Hannah received a sealed letter from the hands of a palace servant, a missive from the pope himself. She held her breath, waiting until the servant had retreated from her room before she dared break the official wax seal. Her heart pounded with anticipation and dread for the news the missive might contain about her parents.
August 21, 1941
My beloved child Hannah,
It is with a heavy heart that I must relay to you the tragic news that your parents have perished in the Treblinka extermination camp. They were taken from this world before I could reach out to the camp Kommandant.
Know that I share in your sorrow.
Plans have been set in motion to secret you off to the United States of America. The archdiocese there will offer you a sanctuary that we, amidst this horrific war, cannot provide. The USA remains a neutral entity. They will offer you safety and the promise of a brighter future.
My assistant has coordinated your departure from a secluded airfield south of Rome. You will take flight under the cloak of the new moon tomorrow night.
With deepest condolences,
Tears welled up in Hannah’s eyes as she absorbed the pope’s somber words, his stillborn attempt to save her parents. Her emotions were a whirlwind, a tumultuous mix of grief over her lost parents and hope for a better future in a far-off land. The anti-Semitism of the United States, she had heard, was a far lesser evil compared to the horrors she had witnessed in Europe. At least the Americans had the decency not to round up Jews for execution.
She closed her eyes, offering a silent prayer for her parents’ souls in Heaven. She took three deep, shuddering breaths, attempting to steady herself in the face of this devastating news, but it was to no avail. She collapsed onto her side sobbing uncontrollably, her face buried in a pillow, the crumpled letter clutched in her trembling hands.
There was no comfort for Hannah in her loss. She was now utterly alone in the world. As far as she knew, all her relatives had met the same cruel fate as her parents in the Treblinka extermination camp. How could she possibly carry on?
Chapter 56
22 August 1941
Rome, Italy
Hannah Goldstein, along with a band of Jewish refugees who had miraculously evaded the Gestapo’s clutches, were guided to the verdant expanse of a secluded airfield. Each of these persecuted souls had entrusted their properties and estates to the Vatican’s safekeeping, a desperate gamble in the face of the Nazi onslaught. The Vatican, in turn, pledged to restore these assets once the monstrous tide of war had receded.
The night was a cloak of impenetrable darkness, the absence of the moon amplifying the cold that seeped into Hannah’s bones, stirring a wave of nausea. She steeled herself against the discomfort, refusing to let her physical state jeopardize her chance to escape the war-torn continent.
Two Vatican staff, their flashlights dimmed to mere pinpricks of light, shepherded the Jewish group towards the silhouette of a DLH Junkers Ju, its formidable dual propellers a promise of salvation. The Vatican had managed to secure this air transport from Deutsche Luft Hansa airlines, who had secretly contracted to ferry the Jews hidden in Castel Gandolfo to the relative safety of the United States. Despite the chaos engulfing Europe, the pope and the Vatican still wielded powerful influence over factions sympathetic to the Catholic Church, thereby aiding Jews in their desperate flight.
The group ascended the aircraft’s stairs one by one, each step a leap towards an uncertain future. Hannah was the last to enter the aircraft, her heart pounding in her chest.
As she disappeared into the belly of the plane, the Vatican staff, shrouded in black, retreated, leaving the pilot to prepare for the long journey. The engines roared to life, the grass beneath trembling under the force of their power.
The DLH airplane taxied down to one end of the private airstrip, the grassy runway stretching out before it. With a surge of power, the brakes were released, and the DLH Junkers Ju hurtled forward before lifting off into the inky abyss.
The moment it reached a thousand feet, a sudden explosion ripped through the hull in a blinding flash that lit up the fields below. The plane had been sabotaged, a deadly trap set by the pope’s assassin to ensure no one ever bore witness to the pope’s indiscretions.
Chapter 57
9 May 1941