Before he could respond, Carmen interjected, “Ross, we need to alert the Vatican.”
“I can. Watson, can you be in Rome by tomorrow afternoon?”
“Absolutely. If we leave in the morning, that won’t be a problem.”
“No, it’s just going to be you.”
Carmen frowned. “What about Amanda and me?”
“The two of you are traveling to Milan.”
Milan? Zane was now thoroughly confused. “Okay, I give up. Why are they going to Milan?”
“Because they’re going to be picking up some very special guests at the airport.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The last rays of the sun had disappeared below the horizon as Zane turned onto Via di Porta Angelica. Much to his frustration, traffic was at a standstill here. Tourists crowded the sidewalk to his right, which ran along the eastern wall of Vatican City. The majority walked toward the Tuscan colonnades of St. Peter’s Square a block ahead, while others headed east into Rome, looking for a place to dine.
Zane glanced at his watch. Carmen and the others should be with the new arrivals in Milan by now. They would remain there overnight then begin the journey south in the morning. He wasn’t surprised the Oracle was sending over more team members, but he was surprised one of them was Keiko. Other than a brief foray into the Amazon basin, this would be her first time in the field, a milestone in Delphi history.
As he waited for the traffic to advance, Zane’s mind returned to Katiya. The long drive from Menaggio had given him more time to think about all that had transpired over the last few weeks, and one thing had become crystal clear. He continued to regret his decision to break off their relationship. Unfortunately, she had rebuffed his efforts to restore it. So what now? He could attempt to contact her when he returned to the States, but it was possible she’d reject his offer again. In fact, she might have even moved on with another man by now. And if that was the case, it was better to let things go now.
The sharp blow of a horn brought Zane out of his thoughts. He looked in the rearview mirror. Someone was irritated he hadn’t noticed traffic was moving again. He gave them a little wave in the mirror then accelerated forward. A minute later, he turned right through St. Anne’s Gate, one of the few vehicular entrances to the Vatican. As he came to a stop, two Swiss Guards stepped out into the cobblestone alley, blocking his way. They wore blue regular duty uniforms with black boots and black berets.
One of the guards remained in place, while the other approached the driver’s side. Zane rolled down the window, showed his identification, and gave his reason for being there. The guard seemed to be expecting him but asked him to step out so they could perform a brief sweep of the vehicle. As he exited, two more guards appeared. One waved a metal-detecting wand over Zane’s body while the other circled the car with two German Shepherds. Zane had left all of his weaponry with Carmen, so he knew there was nothing to find.
When the search was complete, he climbed back in.
The lead guard approached again and pointed down the street. “Please go one block down, and take your first left.”
As Zane pulled away, the guard was already speaking into a collar mic. Everything was handled with crisp efficiency inside the walls of the city-state. If someone wanted to steal something from the Vatican’s archives, they were going to need a high level of sophistication.
Zane drove forward. When he arrived at the end of the block, another guard was there to direct him to the left. Zane turned and pulled into one of several parking spots. Although he’d never visited the interior of Vatican City, he knew the sand-colored buildings on the right were the Apostolic Palace complex, the official residence of the Pope. He studied some of the lighted windows and wondered if the Pontiff was there now.
The guard arrived as Zane was getting out. “Good afternoon, Herr Watson. I’m Hauptmann Schluessel.”
A captain. Apparently, they were taking his visit seriously.
“Thank you.” Zane shook the offered hand. “It’s an honor. It’s not every day I get escorted around the Vatican by an officer of the Guard.”
“And it’s not every day Oberst Stegmann gets a visit from American intelligence.” He gestured toward the peach-colored building on the left, the barracks of the Swiss Guard. “This way, please.”
Inside, Zane was directed through a security screening area. After Zane cleared, Schleussel escorted him to an all-glass office on the right. Zane noticed that since entering the walls of the Holy See, he’d been under a strict chain of custody. At every point in the process, he was always under someone’s watch.
“May I get you something to drink? A bottle of water?” Schluessel offered.
Zane waved him off. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
A few minutes later, a man with an air of authority strode through the entrance. He was well over six feet tall, all of it solid muscle. He had a square, chiseled face and closely cropped blond hair. His silver eyes not only conveyed intelligence, but an acute awareness of his surroundings.
After passing through security, he stuck his head in the glass office. “Herr Watson?”
Zane rose and shook the man’s strong hand. “Zane Watson.”
“I’m Commander Stegmann.” His accent was thick, much like that of a certain body builder-turned-actor-turned-governor. “I apologize for running a little late. The Holy Father is entertaining a group of cardinals from South America, and they’re discussing a number of issues that are — how shall I say? — very divisive in the church. Unfortunately, the controversial nature of the visit has brought out all the crazies.”
“I can imagine it doesn’t take much to accelerate the threat level around here.”
“Whatever you can imagine, multiply that by ten.”
Zane laughed. “Thank you for taking the time to meet with me, Commander.”
“It’s my pleasure. When our American friends tell us they have important information, we listen.” He glanced at his watch. “If you don’t mind, we’ll use my office upstairs.”
The commander led Zane down a central corridor. They passed two armories filled with racks of semi-automatic and fully automatic weapons, from Heckler & Koch MP5 submachine guns to SIG SG 550 Sniper rifles. Zane smiled. If Amanda could see their cache of arms, she’d never question the prowess of the Swiss Guard again.
Reaching the end, the two took an elevator to Stegmann’s office on the second floor. It was a simple affair: a mahogany desk, three chairs, a bookcase, and a large safe, which Zane assumed contained the commander’s weapons.
Stegmann stepped behind the desk then gestured toward one of the chairs facing him. “I’ll be quite honest. You don’t look like an FBI agent. For a brief moment, I thought you were an impostor.”
Zane laughed. It was a comment he got quite often. He actually liked the fact he didn’t fit the physical stereotype of an intelligence operative because it meant he drew less attention. A foreign agent was less likely to focus on a somewhat stylishly dressed man with long hair.
“Well, I have a confession to make.” Zane settled into the chair. “I’m not an FBI agent.”
“You’re not?” Stegmann frowned.
“I do work for the U.S. government. Some would say we’re a subset of the CIA, but that’s not exactly—”
Stegmann held up a hand. “Don’t worry. I realize there are some agencies within the world of intelligence that can’t be named publicly. Believe it or not, we have a few of those ourselves. Anyway, I know the director personally, and if you came at his request, that’s good enough for me.”