Day of Confession - Allan Folsom [176]
“No legs, Mr. Harry, but the rest of me like granite, eh?”
“I think you like this.” Harry half grinned.
“We are in search of the truth. And no goal is more honorable, is it, Mr. Harry?” Hercules’ eyes bore into Harry’s, the pain of a lifetime in them. Then, as quickly, he looked to the top of the wall.
“Another boost, Mr. Harry. This time is trickier. Lean your back to the wall and keep your balance or we both go down.”
Putting his back against the wall, Harry dug his heels into the narrow stone ledge.
“Go,” Harry whispered. Immediately he felt Hercules’ hands on his shoulders, felt him pull up. Then the rope coil brushed across his chest, and Hercules’ deadened feet banged over his face, then his weight vanished. Quickly Harry looked up. Hercules was kneeling on top of the wall.
“Crutches,” he said.
“How’s it look?” Harry handed them up.
One arm tucked through his crutches, Hercules peered over the side and into the Vatican gardens. The tower loomed behind some trees, not thirty yards away. Turning, he gave Harry the thumbs up.
“Good luck.”
“See you inside.” Hercules winked.
Then Harry saw him twist a turn of rope over a jutting corner of the wall, jab his arm through the crutches and disappear over the top.
For the briefest second Harry hesitated, then with a look back down the street, he jumped. Hitting the ground, he rolled over once and was up. Brushing off his jacket, tugging the black beret over his forehead, he walked quickly back down Viale Vaticano, the way he had come. Scala’s Calico automatic was in his belt, Adrianna’s cell phone in his pocket. Ahead of him, the buildings were stark black against the eerie pale of the brightening sky.
138
6:45 A.M.
WEARING THE BLACK SUIT AND WHITE SHIRT of Farel’s guard, his hair black and cut short, Thomas Kind leaned against the balustrade on the outside walkway at the top of the Dome of St. Peter’s, looking out over Rome. Two hours earlier he’d learned the situation in Beijing was over, the contracts he’d put out on Li Wen and Chen Yin satisfied. The first had been carried out by an unsuspecting Chen Yin himself, the second done swiftly but expensively through a contact in the North Korean secret police with close ties to the Chinese Ministry of State Security. Li Wen had been brought to a military airfield in Beijing for questioning. A source had been paid to leave a door open and look the other way as Chen Yin entered. Chen Yin had done his job, fully expecting to simply turn and walk away unmolested. That was when the second contract kicked in and the whole thing ended.
That left only the business of Father Daniel and those with him. At Palestrina’s order and with Farel’s blessing, Thomas Kind had spent most of yesterday with five members of the black-suited Vigilanza whom the Vatican policeman had carefully chosen himself. Outwardly they carried the same initial credentials as all of the specially chosen Swiss Guards. They were Catholic and Swiss citizens, but comparisons stopped there. Where the others had previously been exemplary members of the Swiss Army, these five simply had the word “military experience” next to their names. Secondary records showed why. All had been recruited by Farel himself and then used as his or Palestrina’s personal guard. Three had been members of the French Foreign Legion and discharged with prejudice before the expiration of their five-year terms. The other two had had troubled childhoods, had been in and out of prison before Swiss Army service, and had later been discharged from the Swiss Army for aggravated assault, one with intent to commit murder. That one had been Anton Pilger. Moreover, all five had been brought into the Vigilanza within the last seven months, making Thomas Kind wonder if perhaps Palestrina had foreseen this kind of problem and therefore his need of the five black suits. But whatever Palestrina’s motive, Kind had accepted the selection, met them, and then, handing out photographs of the Addison brothers, laid out his plans.
The brothers