From his distant vantage point, the Vatican assassin meticulously observed the chaotic marketplace through the scope of his rifle. His gaze fixated on the unsuspecting nun weaving her way through the bustling crowd. Every second counted. He glanced at his watch, knowing that the diversion he had orchestrated would soon come into play. The nun was a loose end the assassin had been entrusted to tie up.
Handpicked by Cardinal Rosetti himself, Alistar, the formidable leader of the elite Vatican assassin team, had embarked a week prior on this crucial mission to eliminate Sister Carlotta. Her insatiable curiosity—unfortunate questions she asked at the priest’s funeral—posed a grave threat to the dark secrets hidden within the Vatican’s hallowed halls. The nun’s curiosity could have uncovered the cause behind Father Benedetti’s untimely demise.
As a result of the former priest’s suspicious behavior, Alistar had arranged a private meeting with the man to discover what he knew. Unfortunately, that discussion ended with an abrupt heart attack. The syringe mark on Benedetti’s neck had been expertly concealed, leaving behind no trace of foul play; the young priest’s autopsy report, carefully crafted by the Vatican physician, designated an embolism as the cause of death, and that was that.
Peering through the scope of his Remington 700 .308 bolt-action rifle, Alistar scanned the marketplace, making sure that no Zimbabwean police were patrolling the area. With the corrupt government in Harare, it had been a simple matter of bribing the local officials to keep law enforcement at bay for a precious hour.
His gaze returned to the market where the unsuspecting nun was still standing beneath the canopy, exchanging currency for her three peaches. The line of sight between them was clear. With careful precision, he chambered a bullet inside the high-powered rifle equipped with a silencer and flash suppressor, the standard tools of his trade.
The seconds ticked away. The assassin secured the bipod on the windowsill, steadying the rifle against his shoulder as if embracing a fine woman in romantic embrace. His anticipation grew as the seconds ticked away.
From the third-story window, he peered through his scope. His target stood a mere fifty yards away. Such close proximity allowed him to steady his aim without the need to regulate his breathing. The feel of the trigger on his finger brought back haunting memories from his childhood.
All he’d known was the constant abuse his alcoholic father had inflicted on his mother. One fateful night, after witnessing his mother’s brutal murder at the hands of his father, Alistar decided to take matters into his own hands. Gripping his grandfather’s war pistol, he’d confronted his father, desperate to avoid the same fate that had befallen his mother. His father, consumed by an alcohol-fueled rage, disregarded the gun aimed at him and advanced. Filled with a surge of adrenaline, Alistar pulled the trigger. The bullet found its mark in his father’s abdomen. But the nonlethal shot only served to further enrage the drunken man, who lunged towards Alistar with violent intent.
In a desperate act of self-preservation, the fourteen-year-old emptied the entire cartridge into his father’s body. The room filled with the sound of gunfire as bullets tore through flesh, leaving his father lifeless on the carpet, blood pooling around him. One final, fatal shot to the forehead ended the nightmare once and for all.
With both parents gone and no close relatives to turn to, Alistar found himself in the custody of the Santa Maria Orphanage. The courts ruled his actions as self-defense, but the scars of that night would forever shape him. Now a skilled assassin, Alistar channeled his past trauma into deadly purpose, eliminating those who posed a threat to the Vatican’s secrets.
In the distance, he could hear the unmistakable revving of a dirt-bike engine. He glanced at his Tag Heuer watch, knowing the radical terrorist he’d hired was always punctual when there was enough money on the line. Even this ruthless individual would take time out of his busy terrorist schedule for a job like this, once he smelled the Euros waved in front of his greedy face.
The roar of the dirt bike echoed through the narrow alley, sending vendors and locals scrambling for cover. They knew all too well the sound of motorcycles precluded a hit on someone’s kill list. It could come from orders given by President Mugabe, the militia, or any number of uprisings in the volatile country.
Alistar watched as the vendors did nothing to help the nun. He couldn’t help but feel a twisted sense of satisfaction as he watched the vendors ignore his target. Their inaction toward Sister Carlotta meant his plan was working perfectly.
The chaos paralyzed Sister Carlotta with fear, leaving her vulnerable and exposed. She stood frozen in the crosshairs of Alistar’s high-powered rifle, her life hanging by a thread.
The terrorist roared into the plaza on his dirt bike wielding an Uzi, unleashing a hail of bullets into the air above the market stalls. The clay walls behind the tents splintered, raining down debris on the panicking crowd. The screams of innocent bystanders mingled with the deafening sound of gunfire and the revving of the motorcycle.
In the midst of the chaos, Alistar’s scope focused on the nun’s temple. The single gunshot he needed to complete his assignment would go undetected amidst the cacophony of noise. With the silencer securely screwed onto the end of the rifle, his shot’s origin would remain imperceptible to the world, just like the countless secrets hidden within the Vatican’s walls.
As the motorcyclist passed, Sister Carlotta’s temple remained centered in the assassin’s crosshairs. With a steady hand and a heart filled with cold determination, he pulled the trigger. The world fell silent around him.
The bullet soared through the air, destined to fulfill its deadly purpose.
Chapter 6
March 4, 2000
Saturday, 6:04 p.m.
Rome, Italy
“Lasagna again? What’s the special occasion?” Mario full of curiosity entering the kitchen.
“Don’t get excited, it’s leftovers,” Roberto replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Mario raised an eyebrow. “Should I even ask who you had over to leave behind this rare treat?”
“How about I just tell you she was blonde. You know I have a thing for blondes,” Roberto chuckled, keeping his answer short in respect for Mario’s occupation.
Mario sighed, shaking his head. “Will you ever change your ways and settle down with a good Christian girl?”
“Not anytime in the foreseeable future, Father.”
Mario’s tone turned serious. “I’m just looking out for your well-being, you know.”
“Hey, you get up on your priestly soapbox and I bring you back down to reality. Let’s change topics, shall we?”
With a deliberate pivot, he turned away from Mario to check on the lasagna, signaling he was done discussing his love life.
After enduring the tension hanging in the air, Roberto finally broke the silence. “Ya know,” he began still hunched over facing the oven window, “if I were blessed with your striking good looks, I wouldn’t have to shell out so much money looking for this elusive soul mate,” he chuckled at his light-hearted jest.
Mario retorted with a playful grin, “Well, it’s a good thing you’re not short on cash then, isn’t it?” His response, a cleverly crafted joke, was a welcome relief, effectively diffusing the tension.
“What’s the latest on the scanning project?” Roberto’s focus consumed by the simmering lasagna.
Mario’s countenance transformed, his eyes sparkling with infectious enthusiasm. “You wouldn’t believe the discovery that occurred this week.”
Roberto’s curiosity piqued, he straightened and swiveled to lean against the cool Carrara marble of the kitchen island. “Tell me.”
Mario, eager to recount his tale, drew near and pulled out a barstool to sit. “I scanned a significant piece of history involving the Knights Templar. The Chinon Parchment,” he said, his voice filled with awe. “The thing was misfiled over three centuries ago. It was just unearthed this week. Finding it was monumental.”
Roberto’s eyes widened in astonishment. “The Knights Templar? That’s amazing.”
Mario nodded, his excitement evident. “It took me all week to scan it.”
Roberto leaned in, his curiosity growing. “What’s on it?”
