“No,” Alicia said. “How far is the Castel Sant’Angelo?”
“Not too far. It is even more beautiful in December because the sky is bluer. You can really see the old castle and the statue of Saint Michael on top of it.”
In the backseat of the car, Marcus closed his eyes and visualized the various mathematical connections and combinations to the numbers left behind by Daniel and Philippe Fournier. He reached for his cell and pulled up the letter Fournier had written to the Pope, and then he re-read the words written by Daniel and sealed in the old vase. ‘Behold and seek the angel whose lance guards the passage to Michael. Know that the day of Michael’s return marks the season of the beast and the slaying by the prince.’
“I’m not sure what this means,” Marcus mumbled, then continued reading…‘one angel who guards the bridge carries the passage of the prince who arises from Daniel.’
Marcus turned towards Alicia. “I believe I know where to look for the missing link!”
“The sign, I think, will be somewhere on or near one of the statues of the angels on the bridge leading to the Castel Sant’Angelo…or maybe on the statue of Saint Michael.”
The taxi driver pulled up in front of the Castel Sant’Angelo. “There it is,” he said. “During the seventh century, the bridge was used to expose the bodies of the executed. They stuck decapitated heads up on the posts. In those days, the leaders of Rome believed the public display of an execution was a good deterrent. Now, it is the bridge of angels; however, I believe some of the sinners of Rome’s earlier times still cross the bridge at night.” He grinned.
“Very funny. Is the bridge pedestrian-only?”
“Yes, this is a destination for tourists from all over the world. Each angel carries an instrument of Christ’s passion. The Pope commissioned the statues in 1598. The master, Bernini, was the head sculptor or designer, who assigned eight of them to other sculptors, many of them his pupils, reserving two of them for himself to do. He designed all ten angels when he was seventy years old, devising them from three points of view so that they could be seen from a frontal view and also a forty-five-degree angle. Historians say it took the old man seventy weeks to sculpt the angel that represents the crown of thorns.”
“Thank you,” Marcus nodded and paid the driver who then drove away.
They stared at the ancient bridge leading across the Tiber River to the massive, round fortress. The design of the bridge incorporated five wide arches. The river, reflecting the blue sky, flowed silently through the arches.
“I’ve never seen a castle quite like that one,” Alicia said. “The taxi driver said it was built to be a mausoleum but it turned out to be everything from that to a torture chamber.”
“I’m not concerned as much with the castle as I am with the bridge and one single statue. Gisele Fournier mentioned that her grandfather spoke of one statue here that, in a way, reminded him of the Weeping Angel in the UNESCO Garden of Peace.”
They walked to the bridge and stepped to the center. Dozens of tourists crossed the bridge, each snapping photos of the statues of angels. Alicia watched them. “This is very impressive. I don’t see the angel with the lance.”
“Maybe it’s closer to the Castel Sant’Angelo. The driver said each angel is representative of Christ’s passion. There’s the angel with the sponge. And over there is the angel with the crown of thorns.”
“Each one has an inscription at the base.”
They walked to the far end of the bridge. The angel closest to the Castel Sant’Angelo held the lance over her head. Her face was turned away from the fortress, looking toward the east. Staring at the tip of the lance, Marcus felt the quiver of the scar in his chest. The inscription at the base of the statue read: Vulnerasti cor meum. Marcus said, “The words are Latin and they mean, thou has ravished my heart.”
“In the taxi, you mentioned the similarities between what Daniel wrote before the birth of Christ and what Philippe Fournier wrote after World War II.”
“The one constant in both is the mention of the angel who guards the passage. That’s the way Daniel put it. Fournier wrote that one angel who guards the bridge carries the passage of the prince who arises from Daniel.”
Alicia looked up at the statue with the lance. “The words guards and passage are the same in what Daniel and Fournier wrote. Passage and guards…well, this is definitely the passage to the castle. The angel with the lance is the last one before you get to the castle. Maybe she’s the guardian angel.” Alicia smiled. “Sorry, it’s been so long since I felt like smiling.”
“I know.” Marcus touched the base of the statue. The wind blew across the Tiber River, and pigeons rose from the old fortress, turning around over the bridge and flying back toward the Vatican. “Philippe Fournier made a connection we didn’t see.”
“What?”
“He specifically mentioned Daniel…Daniel the prophet in his letter to the Pope. He said, ‘Who guards the bridge carries the passage of the prince who arises from Daniel.’ The passage of the prince…” Marcus used his mobile to find the Internet. He keyed in information, looked back to the angel with the lance and then read from his screen. “In the Book of Daniel, chapter twelve verse one, he writes, ‘At that time, Michael, the great prince who protects your people, will arise. There will be a time of distress such as has not happened from the beginning of nations until then. But at that time, your people — everyone whose name is found written in the book — will be delivered.’”
“What was he saying?”
“Let’s look at the numbers.” Marcus felt the adrenaline pumping, his hand trembling.
Alicia stared up at the statue of Saint Michael. “So the word passage has nothing to do with this bridge or a passage to the fortress where a bronze of Saint Michael stands. It has to do with a passage in the Bible.”
“Yes! Specifically Daniel 12:1, which makes reference to Saint Michael and reuses some of the words Daniel wrote and sealed in the vase. Let’s add chapter twelve and verse one. That gives us the number thirteen. Revelation 13 deals with the end of times as does Daniel 12:1. We can add the number thirteen to what we already have: begin with 1469, the date the secret Order of St. Michael was founded in France. Add the date to 539, the year the third horn was removed and the Pope became a civil leader. That adds up to the year 2008. When we factor in the other number from Daniel and mentioned by Fournier, 1260 days or three-and-a half years, we go from the year 2008 to the year 2011.”
“We’re beyond 2011.”
Marcus stared at the statue, the lance a silhouette. “I’m wondering if the last part of the equation is the addition of the twelfth chapter and first verse in Daniel, added together is the number thirteen, and when that’s in the equation, factoring in all that Daniel and Philippe Fournier corroborated, we have the year 2024…”
Alicia let out a low whistle. “So the year 2024 might be the final days of earth.”
“I don’t know. I’d like to find something to corroborate that.”
“Maybe we’ll find it.”
“Right now we have to upload everything on the flash drive to the website and include the year 2024 unless we can find—”
“Excuse me.”
Marcus and Alicia turned around to see a tourist approaching them. He walked with a slight limp coming from his left leg. The man was less than six feet tall, early sixties, steel blue eyes that captured the sky’s reflection off the river. “Do you mind taking a picture of me for my daughter? She’s back in England. I’m here in Rome for a couple of days on business. Her church youth group told her this was one of their favorite places. They’re very much into angels.” He smiled and held out a small camera.