The sum of all fears - Tom Clancy [11]
"Any other conceptual problems?" Jack asked.
Father Tim laughed: "The Council of Vienna! How did you forget that, Jack?"
"What?" Alden sputtered in annoyance.
"1815. Everybody knows that! After the final settlement of the Napoleonic Wars, the Swiss had to promise never to export mercenaries. I'm sure we can finesse that. Excuse me, Dr Alden. The Pope's guard detachment is composed of Swiss mercenaries. So was the French king's once - they all got killed defending King Louis and Marie Antoinette. Same thing nearly happened to the Pope's troops once, but they held the enemy off long enough for a small detachment to evacuate the Holy Father to a secure location, Castel Gandolfo, as I recall. Mercenaries used to be the main Swiss export, and they were feared wherever they went. The Swiss Guards of the Vatican are mostly for show now, of course, but once upon a time the need for them was quite real. In any case, Swiss mercenaries had such a ferocious reputation that a footnote of the Council of Vienna, which settled the Napoleonic Wars, compelled the Swiss to promise not to allow their people to fight anywhere but at home and the Vatican. But, as I just said, that is a trivial problem. The Swiss would be delighted to be seen helping solve this problem. It could only increase their prestige in a region where there is a lot of money."
"Sure." Jack observed. "Especially if we provide their equipment. M-1 tanks, Bradley fighting vehicles, cellular communications "
"Come on, Jack," Riley said.
"No, Father, the nature of the mission will demand some heavy weapons, for psychological impact if nothing else. You have to demonstrate that you're serious. Once you do that, then the rest of the force can wear the Michaelangelo jumpsuits and carry their halberds and smile into the cameras - but you still need a Smith &. Wesson to beat four aces, especially over there."
Riley conceded the point. "I like the elegance of the concept, gentlemen. It appeals to the noble. Everyone involved claims to believe in God by one name or another. By appealing to them in His name hmm, that's the key, isn't it? The City of God. When do you need an answer?"
"It's not all that high-priority," Alden answered. Riley got the message. It was a matter of official White House interest, but was not something to be fast-tracked. Neither was it something to be buried on the bottom of someone's desk pile. It was, rather, a back-channel inquiry to be handled expeditiously and very quietly.
"Well, it has to go through the bureaucracy. The Vatican has the world's oldest continuously-operating bureaucracy in the world, remember."
"That's why we're talking to you," Ryan pointed out. "The General can cut through all the crap."
"That's no way to talk about the princes of the church, Jack!" Riley nearly exploded with laughter.
"I'm a Catholic, remember? I understand."
"I'll drop them a line," Riley promised. Today, his eyes said.
"Quietly," Alden emphasized.
"Quietly," Riley agreed.
Ten minutes later, Father Timothy Riley was back in his car for the short drive back to his office at Georgetown. Already his mind was at work. Ryan had guessed right about Father Tim's connections and their importance. Riley was composing his message in Attic Greek, the language of philosophers never spoken by more than fifty thousand people, but the language in which he'd studied Plato and Aristotle at Woodstock Seminary in Maryland all those years before.
Once in his office, he instructed his secretary to hold all calls, closed the door, and activated his personal computer. First he inserted a disk that allowed the use of Greek characters. Riley was not a skilled