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Authors: Peter J; Tanous

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BOOK: The Secret of Fatima
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Entering the hotel, Toby informed the desk clerk that he'd reserved a suite with two bedrooms. He and Kevin would share one room, MC would have the other, and Max could sleep on the couch and enjoy the wide screen TV in the palatial living room.
So much for travelling on a budget
, Kevin thought, smiling.
Thank you, Uncle Sam
.

When someone rapped on the door, Kevin rose from the bed, checked the security monitor, and opened it. There was good ol' Max, dressed for civilian travel: casual sport jacket, shirt, and slacks.

“Ready to go?” asked Max. He carried a small carry-on bag in one hand and rolled a large suitcase behind him with the other.

“Almost. We've got some more packing to do,” Kevin said, referring to the pistols he'd stow in the one bag that'd be checked in at the airport.

“This one is Toby's,” Max announced, motioning to the wheelie. “I got it from his room at his hotel after he called the manager.”

“Mmm, good.” Kevin was wary of smuggling the pistols through airport security, but knew it should go off without a hitch.

“How did it go with His Holiness?” Max asked as he stepped into the apartment.

“OK. Actually, good. The bottom line is I think I was wrong. In fact, if I ever suspected he was part of Opus Mundi, I was wrong. He wants us to find the missing pages of the secret and give them to him.”

“Why are you so sure he's not working for the other side?” Max asked.

“Intuition. It was just something I felt. Besides, he's about to announce a new initiative that underscores his stance. I can't give you details, but we'll hear about it very soon.”

Max smiled. “Sometimes, my dear friend, you seem to forget how well connected I am in the Vatican. His Holiness Pope Linus the Second is going to announce his decision to host a peace conference to settle the Middle East crisis. The announcement will come this afternoon.”

“How'd you know? Your downstairs eyes in the Vatican kitchen?”

Max shook his head. “I have higher sources than the kitchen help, my friend.”

“I understand Israel isn't yet on board,” Kevin added.

Max smirked. “They came through an hour ago.”

Kevin shook his head. “Our new leader is a powerful negotiator, after all.”

“Something like that,” Max said.

“C'mon, Max.” Kevin looked at his watch. “Let's get some lunch. I'm starved. We don't have a lot of time. We need to leave for the airport in an hour.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Seville, Spain

News of the papal peace initiative flooded the media worldwide. Fox News broke the story first with a tip from an unnamed Vatican official. Kevin smiled and wondered if Max had been the source of the tip. The Vatican hadn't wanted news of the initiative released for another couple of days, until all the participants had prepared their own announcements.

Word spread quickly that parties in Iran, Israel, and the United States had agreed to take part in the papal peace initiative. Russia, France, and the Arab League would also attend and participate as needed. The initiative would personally be hosted by His Holiness in the Apostolic Palace in the Vatican.

Just another media circus at the Vatican
, Kevin thought. After the irregularities of the recent papal election, he was glad he wouldn't be there for it.

On CNBC, the financial analysts reported that after the announcement, stock markets in Europe, the United States, and Asia rose nearly three percent during the day. Gold and oil fell as the prospect of peace reduced worldwide fear that a nuclear calamity was imminent. Now the chances of an oil blockade in the Persian Gulf seemed slim and the fear associated with a rise in the price of gold had abated. Leaders of the three countries participating in the peace initiative thanked the pontiff for convening the conference. Each leader claimed emphatically that his constituency wanted only a peaceful resolution to the conflict.

Nice start to your papacy, Your Holiness
, Kevin thought.

During all this goodwill, Max and Kevin boarded the plane to Seville. Kevin had ensured his anti-tailing measures were in place, and now was relieved to know he wasn't being followed.

But something was bothering Kevin. He felt certain Opus Mundi had moved on to the action phase of their plan. He only wished he knew what that was.

To Kevin, Seville was the most beautiful, elegant, manicured city in Spain. The city sat on the banks of the Guadalquivir River, which flowed through the town. The town's history, some say, dated back to its founding by Hercules. Seville was one of Kevin's favorite cities in the world. He enjoyed its charm and cultural diversity. He was an avid student of the city's rich history.

From the early eighth century to the twelfth century, Seville was occupied by the Moors and under their rule the city entered its age of splendor. The cultural influences of the Moors, typified by the renowned Alcazar, still survived and were a stellar example of the Mudejar architecture and designs of Aragon and Castile.

But of all the visual wonders of Seville, it was the magnificent fifteenth century cathedral that Kevin loved most. The largest Gothic cathedral in the world, the interior of this holy place mirrored the majesty and power of God. The cathedral was built on the foundation of a Moorish mosque, which accounted for its unorthodox design. The nave of the cathedral soared skyward to a height of over 130 feet, higher even than the magnificent cathedral of Chartres.

And now, Kevin was excited to visit it again.

When talking about the secret document, MC had overheard the OM people mention the cathedral. The connection intrigued Kevin.

The flight to Seville was short. Soon, Kevin and Max found themselves in a cab riding from the Seville airport to Toby's hotel.

“Well, well,” said Max as Toby opened the door, welcoming them. “This is beautiful.” Max and Kevin stepped into a spacious suite where a Venetian crystal chandelier hung in the center of the living room.

“Glad you like it! Good flight?” asked Toby.

“Better than the taxi ride,” Kevin said.

Toby said, “Hey, Max, go ahead and put your bag in the closet. You can use the bathroom in the hallway. I think you'll find the sofa comfortable for sleeping.”

Max looked at the sprawling leather sofa and sat down to test it out. “Yes, it feels just right,” he said.

Kevin and Max dropped their bags in Toby's bedroom, then came back out to the living area.

“Where's MC?” Kevin asked.

Toby grinned sheepishly. “In the spa … the girl likes luxury.”

“All women like spas,” said Max dryly. “Even nuns.”

“Well, no matter. We don't need her for the operational planning. We need to get to work,” said Kevin. “What've you got for us, Toby?”

Toby unzipped his leather portfolio and removed a large folded map of the city. He pointed to a red circle he'd made. “Here's the location of the cell tower where the calls were made. It's a neighborhood known as El Arenal, not far from here. I reconnoitered a bit and these are the four blocks we want.” Toby traced lines with a pencil near the towers. “It's a mixed-use neighborhood, a few shops, a couple of cafés. I counted only four or five residential buildings. Of those, only three are multi-family. I suspect that's what we're after. These guys aren't likely to be living in a big villa.”

“Too conspicuous,” said Max.

Kevin and Max scrutinized the map.

“Let's find a vantage point,” Kevin said.

“Right,” Toby replied. “And we'd usually use a car. But we need all four of us. Kevin, you and I do the heavy lifting, you know, the contact stuff. Max can do surveillance, so nobody comes in after us.”

“What's MC doing?” Max asked.

“She'll be identifying her former colleagues. We're looking to pinpoint who to go after,” Kevin said.

“So with MC, we're back to four people,” Toby continued. “And we can't have four people sitting endlessly in a parked car.”

“We'll need a van,” Kevin said.

“Right. But we'll have to modify the van so we can all see out. And if we cut up a rental car, Hertz will be real unhappy.”

“At that point, do we really care?” Kevin asked.

“We don't want to leave tracks. The U.S. embassy has a consulate in Seville. I'll introduce myself to the consul, see if he can help.”

“And maybe we can find a van with windows on the sides,” said Kevin.

The double door to the suite opened and in walked a gussied up Sister Mary Catherine, in a short white skirt and dark blue pullover sweater. Her hair was feathered and spiked around her face. Kevin took a deep breath.
Oh boy
, he thought.
Here we go
.

“Hi, Kevin! Hi, Max!”

She waved and smiled at them.
Focus
, he said to himself.
There's a job to do
.

Toby put the map back in the briefcase. “Folks, let's plan on an early dinner. Here in Spain, that means before ten p.m. I hope that by tomorrow night we can be operational.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Seville, Spain

Kevin and Toby awoke early to the clip-clopping of horses on the cobbled stone streets. Seville had a battalion of horse-drawn carriages to circle the cathedral and the old Jewish Quarter. Not far away, the palaces had magnificent wrought iron gates, allowing for easy viewing of the stylish private patios. Also, there were small shops and artisan outlets, as well as art galleries.

When Kevin got out of bed, he could hear Toby on the phone in the bathroom. Minutes later, Toby came out, his face ashen.

“What's up?” Kevin asked.

“That was the NSA about that guy Maggio who Katie's doing business with. Well, he's definitely connected to Opus Mundi. I'd be real careful.”

Kevin's heart almost stopped. “What day is today?”

“Tuesday,” Toby replied.

“My God! Katie's going to Grand Cayman with Maggio today!” Kevin grabbed his phone off the nightstand and pushed buttons.

“We're six hours ahead of D.C.,” Toby said. “It's two a.m. there.”

“She's not answering,” Kevin counted off the rings, hoping for a reply.

Voicemail.
The owner of this phone has not yet set up voicemail. Please try again later
.

“Does she have a landline?” Toby asked.

“No,” Kevin replied. He dialed again. Same result. “I'll keep trying during the day. Let's find the others and grab some breakfast.”

Max was sitting in the living room, his blankets neatly folded and placed on a side table. He was showered, dressed, and ready for the day.

“Where's MC?” Kevin asked.

Max pointed to the bathroom. “Been in there over half an hour.”

“Is there anything sharp in there?”

Max held his hands up. “My razor is in the hall bathroom,” he said. “Are you still worried about her emotional state?”

“She tried to kill herself once,” Kevin said.

“Well, if she's going to do it in there, she'll have to brush her teeth to death,” Toby added.

A minute later MC emerged in a thick, white terrycloth robe and wet hair. “Just give me a couple, okay?” she purred and gurgled.

After MC dressed, they all partook in a buffet breakfast in the palatial dining room. While sipping coffee, Toby detailed the day's plans. “Spoke to the consul here. He's ex-CIA; we got along just fine. Years ago, we had the same asshole boss, so we bonded quickly. He's got a van for us. Can't be traced, and we can do what we want with it.”

“Excellent,” Kevin said. “We'll need some drills to make holes, some video gear, communications equipment, and weapons.”

“Okay,” Toby said. “Let's go shopping. My government credit card is looking for some action. We'll rendezvous back in the suite at seven p.m.”

“Sounds good,” said MC. “You boys have fun. Meanwhile, I'll enjoy this beautiful suite.”

“Don't open the door. For anyone,” said Kevin.

“I won't,” MC said. “You don't have to worry about me.”

Right
. Toby, Max, and Kevin left and found shops to buy the stuff they needed. They then proceeded to the garage where the van was waiting. It was a beat-up, rusty old Dodge, maybe a dozen years old, with more than one hundred thousand miles on it. The van was white, nondescript, and without markings. Perfect!

In the back of the van, Kevin drilled a hole large enough for the lens of a small video camera, which was attached to a flat screen monitor. The van was equipped with two long side banquettes, running the length of the van, for them to sit. A digital hard drive would record the video.

After the equipment was hooked up and working, they did a test drive out of the garage. Behold! The camera worked perfectly. Then Toby returned the van to the garage, where it'd stay until after dark.

Kevin tried Katie's number for the fourth time. No answer. He took Toby aside.

“We can't let her get on a plane to another country, Toby. What do we do?”

“I know. I've been thinking. There can't be that many flights to Grand Cayman from D.C. Let's check them out and I'll have somebody intercept her at the airport.”

Kevin was relieved. He grabbed Toby's arm. “Thanks, again, pal. And have the intercept make up some excuse why she can't go. We don't want Maggio to know we're on to him.”

“Got that covered,” Toby said with a smile. “The old dying aunt.”

The three men went back to the hotel suite at seven p.m. They ordered room service for an early supper. They agreed it'd be best to forgo booze, given their plans for the evening.

When the food came, they ate, and shortly after eight p.m., Kevin, Toby, Max, and MC walked out of the hotel to the garage where the van was parked. They looked like everyday citizens, wearing jeans and T-shirts. MC and Kevin both wore baseball caps. They walked in silence, lost in thought. The importance, the magnitude, of what they were doing wasn't lost on any one of them.

BOOK: The Secret of Fatima
4.36Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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