Mario had been sent reeling—it was all too much for him. Could it really be that World War II had been nothing more than a clandestine duel between two unseen superpowers vying for world dominance? Was the horrific loss of millions of lives mere collateral damage in the pursuit of a mythical treasure that might not even exist?
Dominic reappeared, finding Mario visibly drained after his deep dive into the secret annals of World War II. “Were you able to decipher the Grand Master’s cryptic notes?”
Mario shot Dominic a look of frustration, his mind struggling to process the high-stakes game of cat and mouse that had been playing out between the Vatican and the Templars. “Was this all for Solomon’s treasure?” he demanded.
“Indeed. The pope manipulated Hitler and the Nazis using the Jews as pawns in his ruthless quest for Solomon’s treasure.”
“Was it worth the massacre of millions?” Mario spat out, repulsed by this revelation. Millions of Jews dead, all in the name of acquiring some stupid treasure. This didn’t even account for the countless lives lost on the battlefields of Europe and the Pacific.
“We swore an oath to safeguard Solomon’s treasure from corrupt leaders incapable of handling such overwhelming responsibility,” Dominic retorted, reiterating his Templar vow to protect the treasure.
Mario shook his head in disbelief. The grief he felt over World War II’s casualties was too much to handle. Dominic fell silent, allowing Mario time to process his shock.
“Is this duel still going on?” Mario said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I regret to inform you that it is. The Vatican, under papal leadership, continues its relentless pursuit of Solomon’s treasure to this very day.”
Mario exhaled deeply and sank back into his chair. “If all this is true, why did you stand by and let millions of Jews be slaughtered by the Nazis? Weren’t you supposed to be the protectors of Christ’s followers, the Jews, God’s chosen people?”
“We were left with no other option,” Dominic defended, his voice rising in defiance.
“No other option?"
“Try to see it from our perspective. The Vatican had been gearing up for this war for decades. It took us six years to put an end to it.”
“Then you failed spectacularly, allowing the Nazis to exterminate six million Jews.”
“The Vatican exploited the Jews! They were our Achilles’ heel, a means of blackmailing us for Solomon’s treasure. Our only recourse was to end the war because surrendering the Treasure was unthinkable.” Dominic crossed his arms, his glare unwavering on Mario.
Mario scrutinized Dominic, attempting to empathize with the Templar’s predicament.
“Let me pose a question to you, Mario. Would you entrust an organization like the Vatican—a proxy organization led by the Black Nobility and their pet the pope, who, by the way, encouraged the abduction and murder of millions for ransom—with the stewardship of the most invaluable treasure on Earth? Do you think they would stop there?”
Mario sat in silence, wrestling with the difficult decision. The Templar allowed him to ponder these grave questions. Dominic felt incensed having to justify his forefathers’ decision, especially after rescuing the young priest from the very entity that sought to assassinate him.
His gaze bore into the priest. “The Bible states, ‘The love of money is the root of all evil’, 1 Timothy 6:10. If the Vatican was complicit with King Philip IV in rounding up and executing our brotherhood on October 13, 1307, all to gain possession of Solomon’s treasure, what makes you believe it would be a responsible custodian of Solomon’s treasure? We’re not the villains here, Father.”
“Please, don’t call me Father,” Mario requested, his head bowed in shame at the title ceremoniously bestowed upon him by the Catholic Church. His faith had been shattered, all because he’d accidentally discovered Pope Pius XII’s journal. Perhaps Father Benedetti had met a more merciful fate when he was executed by the very institution he trusted.
“I apologize if I insulted you,” Mario said, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees, mortified by his outburst accusing the Templars of not doing everything in their power to prevent the Holocaust.
Both men fell silent for a few minutes, mulling over their words.
“Why don’t you reveal this to the world?” Mario asked, still hunched over with his head bowed.
“If we expose the Vatican and all their malevolent deeds, then they expose us. If we get exposed, then we’ll have to reveal the location of Solomon’s treasure. We don’t do this as a professional courtesy among adversaries—it’s a necessity. Safeguarding the other’s secrecy preserves a tenuous balance.”
“But why? The cost of this treasure has been paid with millions of lives. Doesn’t that hold any weight?” Mario’s voice held a note of desperation.
“Believe me, Mario, it’s for the best that Solomon’s treasure remains a secret to the world.” Dominic’s own voice held firm. He would not waver in his conviction.
Mario fell silent.
“Look at me, Mario.” Dominic’s tone forced Mario to meet his gaze. “You must not reveal this secret to the world. The fallout could be catastrophic, costing yet many more millions of lives.”
Mario said nothing.
“Do you comprehend the severity of this?” Dominic pressed.
“I understand,” Mario responded, his voice barely a whisper.
“I need your absolute assurance, Mario. You will not expose us or this information to the world.”
Mario held Dominic’s gaze. “I promise.”
With that, Dominic turned and left Mario alone with his tumultuous thoughts.
After half an hour, Mario rose and walked down the aisle to return the book Dominic had given him. As he scanned the ledgers on the shelves, a smaller book caught his eye. He pulled it out and opened it to find the handwriting inside had been signed by none other than Hannah Goldstein. With the book in hand, he returned to the sitting area to delve into its entries.
Chapter 81
21 September 1941
I’ve been stuck in this basement for a month now. I don’t know if I can trust these men.
Everything I thought I knew, I’m doubting now.
The Templars’ leader told me it was the pope who tried to kill me. The plane with the other Jewish refugees was rigged to get rid of “evidence” of his transgressions.
I was evidence? I don’t get it.
Who can I trust? Mom and Dad are gone. I’ve got no one to trust but me. I’ve got to grow up fast because I’ve got another life depending on me now. But who is the father? I was careful with the guards when I escaped Treblinka. The pope? He’s the only one I wasn’t careful with, couldn’t be careful with. He wasn’t careful when we . . . .
Being pregnant saved my life. Saved our lives. You’re like a miracle in disguise, my little one. I’m forever grateful to you—and for now, we’re safe.
Hannah Goldstein
20 October 1941
Another new moon.
Tonight, Pope Pius XII is going to make another batch of people disappear. Their plane is going to have an “accident” after takeoff. He is evil. If it wasn’t for my morning sickness, I would’ve been one of those “accidents” two months ago, all because of him.
My baby, you saved my life. You saved us both. I’m forever grateful to you, my little miracle.
Hannah Goldstein
30 October 1941
