Spain
After bouncing for hours along the rough Spanish roads, Betty decided that it was time for her to review what she’d actually stolen from the Vatican. Up to this point, she had been on the run and afraid. Now that she understood what was going on with the imbedded tracking bug, the chase had slightly turned in her favor.
She twisted around, peering out the taxi’s back window for the ten thousandth time to see if another vehicle was following them, and as before, nothing.
She turned back around again. If nothing else, she now felt a little more secure that a sniper was not going to take her out right now, but something she observed nagged at her. The behavior of the men chasing her when she threw the curve ball with the second laptop did not seem right. Her intuition was telling her something else, but what?
She put the thought aside and pulled the case onto her lap, opened it and turned her computer on. Now she knew it could be tracked rather rapidly, so disabling any and all methods it could access the Internet was very important. She cautiously pulled up the Vatican file.
A few things had caught her eye earlier when she sent a section of it to Ed, but she hadn’t had a chance to investigate further. She scrolled to the sections she forwarded, but had the feeling that she missed something important. After a few seconds, she saw it. It was a reference to a date in 1982. She specifically remembered that date because it was the date agent Jess Contreras’ uncle was found hanging from the Blackfriars Bridge in London.
As she read further, it was obvious the event was a larger deal than she had anticipated. It turned out that her uncle, Ricardo Calvino, had uncovered a rift within the Vatican and that seemed to have triggered a chain of peculiar events.
Betty scrolled the file back up, confirming that what she was reading was not the actual Vatican file, but the secret file, and it definitely was. So, the question was, how was it directly under the Vatican’s nose, and were they aware of it? That was a clue she would have to investigate.
She continued reading and translating, and the further she got, the more she realized she now had something rather earth-shattering. It described a detailed account of Ricardo Calvino’s discovery of a gun supply organization within the Vatican backed by a “mysterious group.” The mention of a mysterious group immediately made her suspicious that it might be the Brotherhood. She then scrolled back up to the most recent communication and re-read it.
“Dear God,” she said out loud, wiping her forehead.
The driver’s head perked up and he replied, “Yes?”
“Keep driving,” she said bluntly, returning to her thoughts. Now this was confusing her. Jess’s uncle discovered the Brotherhood had infiltrated the Vatican, threatened to expose it, and was murdered. But, what has the Vatican done about it? Covered it up? No, that does not make sense unless they truly felt threatened by it.
Betty continued reading and eventually discovered the facts. The Vatican was in fact terrified by what was found and at the very last minute, Pope Paul backed down from any actions. This all happened in 1975 from what she could determine. However, she could not determine what was so damning that would frighten even the Pope?
If it was true that the Brotherhood had infiltrated the Vatican, then she should have some evidence within her database that would at least tangentially confirm it. All she would need was a name or two to begin her search.
She continued reading quietly, despite the bumpy ride. It wasn’t very clear, but she derived that she was reading the long term communications between three people. One name mentioned was Archbishop John Martinovich. Apparently, something was revealed to him back in the Seventies that was much more than the Brotherhood infiltration. There was a mention of gun smuggling, which wasn’t anything earthshaking as far as she was concerned, so what else could it have been?
As she continued reading, she encountered a reference to “the black letter” several times, but no mention of what was in it. She sat back, wondering if she had missed something again. Looking at the electronic size of the file, she knew it would take some time to go over it, which was what she would have to do. Finding a safe hideout, however, was her first priority. She noticed through the night that they were driving through another small town so she leaned forward and asked, “Where are we?”
“Estepona,” he replied.
Watching the town go by through the window she spotted exactly what she needed right now—a Martini bar.
She waited a few minutes and, allowing the driver to continue on for a few blocks, she then asked him to pull over. She paid her tab and watched him happily drive off. Her tab was high enough to give him the rest of the week off but she wanted to be dropped off far enough away so that he wouldn’t know where she was going. She took a few steps back, blended in as a shadow against a dark brick wall, and waited.
As soon as she couldn’t see the cab, she made her way back to the bar and settled into a dark corner table. Being virtually alone in that section of the bar, she ordered a shot of Scotch and a local light beer. The combination would kill the pain in her back from bouncing around in the cab for hours. Downing the shot as if it was her last one forever, she powered up the computer. After a few moments, she motioned for the bartender to bring her another shot, and began her search for the black letter.
After two more shots of Scotch, she eventually found it listed under a correspondence numbered 2240. She had no idea, nor was it obvious, what the numbers meant, but instead focused on the letter. After she was halfway through it, she found herself stumbling over some of the words. She translated the Italian as fast as she could and continually rechecked herself for mistakes. What was intriguing and disturbing was the unmistakable mention several times of the largest bank in Italy.
In addition, a reference to an absolute obsession the Vatican had with German World War II submarine missions was described in detail. That is something Ed and Alex will have a field day with and they can most likely utilize this information now, thought Betty.
What she was reading answered many questions that had been lingering for years and now fit in like a perfect puzzle.
Well, almost, she thought, downing another shot.
She powered up her PDA and typed in a long Scotch-induced note to Ed. When she finished, she lifted her finger to hit the Send key and suddenly pulled back.
“What am I doing!” she quietly whispered, knowing that her messages were possibly being intercepted by some Vatican computer nerd priest.
She reluctantly powered down her PDA and waved over another shot.