The Templar say there’s no chance of getting me to the United States right now. They’re saying maybe next month. I guess I’m safe here for the time being.

Hannah Goldstein

19 November 1941

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day in the United States. The Templar seem pretty sure now’s the safest time for me to make my escape to America.

I’ve packed up the few things they’ve given me. They provided me a new passport, some money, and the guarantee that there will be a safe family there ready to take in me and my baby.

My baby’s going to be born in America.

Hannah Goldstein

Chapter 82

March 12, 2000

Sunday, 12:27 p.m.

Rome, Italy

“She was here,” Mario whispered, the revelation hitting him like a punch to the gut. The young girl who had miraculously escaped the pope’s sinister “destruction of evidence” had stayed here. Dominic had said as much earlier, to which Mario had felt some skepticism, but seeing her words inked on the page, it was undeniable. Hannah Goldstein was real—meaning the rest of what the Templar had told him most likely was too.

“Did you mutter something?” asked Dominic as he rounded the corner, catching Mario in his private musings.

“Hannah Goldstein. She really was here,” Mario affirmed, closing the journal in his hands with a sense of finality, his gaze meeting Dominic’s.

“If it weren’t for her pregnancy, we would’ve remained oblivious to her existence.”

“As you mentioned before.”

“We relocated her to America, a safe haven for her and her unborn child.”

“But how did you know who to entrust her to?”

“We have a global network of protection programs. During the war, many were compromised. But in November of ‘41, the US was still neutral. The Templar leaders felt it was safe to move Hannah there, to join a loving family who would help her raise her son.”

“And she wasn’t afraid of being found out by the Vatican?”

“We gave her a new identity. Anna Muldoon. Her son went by Trevor Muldoon. They’ve been living comfortably ever since.” Dominic’s voice held a note of pride, a testament to the Templar protection program’s success in saving extermination camp escapees like Hannah.

“Smart move, keeping the names similar. Hannah to Anna.”

“Well, we didn’t want to disrupt her life any more than necessary. The similar names ensured she wouldn’t be discovered if someone accidentally called her by her real name.”

“Clever,” Mario mused, his mind racing with thoughts regarding his own fate. “Will I be relocated to America too?”

“Yes. As soon as you’re ready, we’ll give you a new identity and relocate you to the United States.”

“I’d like to delve deeper into your archives, if that’s okay?” Mario was eager to absorb the wealth of knowledge hidden from the world.

“Take all the time you need.”

“I assume once I leave, I won’t have access to this information again?”

“That’s correct, my friend. For the safety of the Templars and any future Vatican victims, we can’t allow you to return.”

“I understand,” Mario nodded, his gaze sweeping over the endless shelves of historical records. Turning back to Dominic, he said, “I apologize for my earlier words. I’m truly grateful for everything you’ve done for me. You saved my life. Thank you.”

The Templar clasped his hands over his heart and bowed, touched by Mario’s gratitude. “It has been our pleasure, Mario Marino.” With that, he left the priest to his studies inside the Templar archives.

Chapter 83

May 7, 2000

Sunday, 11:55 a.m.

Templar Satellite’s Cellars

Mario cast a final lingering glance around the room that had been his sanctuary, safeguarding him the Vatican’s reach for the past two months. He couldn’t help but wonder how many more souls would seek refuge in this very room fleeing from the Vatican’s wrath.

A knock on the door startled him. Dominic’s low voice greeted him from the other side, and Mario rose to let him in. “Are you ready to depart?”

“Yes,” Mario replied, his voice steady. “I was just making sure I haven’t left anything behind. I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done.”

“The honor is ours. As Templars, it’s our sworn duty to shield the oppressed.”

Mario took one last look around, acutely aware that this was a pivotal moment in his life. Once he stepped out of this sanctuary, he would be exposed to the world and the lurking threat of the Vatican’s assassins. He was no longer a priest shielded by the Catholic Church. What would life as a civilian hold for him?

With a deep breath, he turned towards the door and followed Dominic down the corridor to a hidden stairwell. They ascended, leaving the safety of the underground behind. The Templars never risked using the bank vault elevator for departures, instead always opting for the secret stairwell exit. After a strenuous climb up five flights of stairs, they emerged through a concealed door set inside a brick wall onto a quiet street. A car was waiting there, ready to whisk him away to a private jet bound for America.

The sunlight was blinding. “How long has it been since I’ve seen the sun?” Mario mused aloud.

“There are times when I don’t see the sun for weeks,” Dominic replied with a slight chuckle.

The Templar chauffeur took Mario’s luggage and stowed it in the trunk of the Fiat 500 hatchback. Dominic extended his hand. “Mario Marino, it’s been an honor. If you ever need anything, here’s my card. You can reach me directly.”

Mario accepted the card, scanning it quickly before shaking the Templar’s hand. “Thank you, Dominic.”

With a nod, the driver started the car and pulled away from the secret entrance. Mario settled into the front seat as the Fiat cruised through the cityscape.

Forty minutes later, he was boarding a Gulfstream G650ER. The unassuming Templar private jet was set to refuel in Portugal before heading to Tennessee where a safe house awaited him. Given Mario’s past as a Vatican priest, Dominic had chosen Tennessee due to its low Catholic population. Their absence would provide a safe haven for the former priest to live out his days, far from the reach of the Catholic network.

Chapter 84

May 8, 2000

Monday, 8:55 a.m.