Tag Archives: Cardinalate Giovanni Marrollo

3.26 The Price is Your Soul

Book III: Chapter 25
December 20

The moment lingered…

Someone or something was coming through the gate towards us.

Destiny?

Death?

Only God knew what it might be.

At last, forging through the gate came Pope Benedict, followed a moment later by Bill Bates in his Dr. Ma’bus regalia.

“Ah, I thought we would find you here,” Bates called out jovially, as he shuffled ahead to take the lead. Meanwhile a pair of servants rushed forward to set down two more chairs around our group, others set up a cabana to temper the afternoon’s heat, whilst still others emerged with an array of tempting delicacies to offer as refreshments. While all the servants were masked and gloved, neither the pope nor the technocrat wore virus protection since both knew Covid posed no real threat to them.

As our captors took their seats, Bates was all smiles, “Well, my friends, I’m sure you’re aware that tomorrow is your day of doom. Have you given any further consideration to the generous offer I made you?”

“Fool!” I lashed out at the would-be dictator. “Do you really think any of us would betray our Savior to follow a false god such as you? Hell, even if we contemplated such a mistake, everyone knows you wouldn’t honor your word.”

Although Benedict was beet red with embarrassment, Bates took it all in stride. He stared humorously at me for a few moments, before replying, “John, oh John, you were his beloved once, right?”

“I am his beloved still and—“

“Please.” Bates interrupted, holding up a hand, knowing I was not sure if I really believed my own words. “Save yourself the embarrassment. Everybody here knows the truth – the one you put your faith in has abandoned you. News flash, John, he’s NOT coming back. By crikey, man, I would think after two thousand years you would finally get it!”

“Whether it be two thousand or two hundred thousand,” Alan spoke up, “any amount of time is like a mere drop in the bucket to our God.”

“Ah, perhaps so,” Bates turned his attention now to Alan. “However, such is not the case for you three, eh? After all, while your lord may be able to ride out Time however he chooses, none of you can say the same. Each of you has had to endure every excruciating second of your miserable, do-nothing lives upon this forsaken world. You can’t hide it from me; it’s written all over your faces – you KNOW that in spite of all the time you’ve been given, in the end, you’ve failed in your mission. Two thousand years down the drain. All the pain, all the misfortune, and now all for naught. I can see how much that bothers you… and rightly so. You failed your master! What good are you to him now?”

“We will always have a place with our Lord.” Miriam replied, hands in her lap, eyes looking down.

“Ooohhh. And you say that with such confidence.” Bates scoffed. “Get real, sister. Nobody is buying your false hope and you shouldn’t be selling it. Look, the fact of the matter is that you really did have a chance to defeat me, but you failed. It’s that’s simple. I knew you couldn’t do it.”

“And why is that?” Miriam foolishly debated.

“First off, you made poor decisions. I mean, think about it – you were given a blueprint for success on how to overcome me and yet you couldn’t follow a simple set of directions! Instead you tried to do things your own way. Ah, news flash – that’s kind of stupid. Secondly, we all know that you three have never really been able to work together as a team. And worse still, you kept secrets from each other. How’s that for a start?” And here he paused to let each of us wallow in our shame, before adding, “Whatever you MAY have had with your god, it’s gone now. His time has passed. It’s MY time now.”

“You are a fool, Ma’bus.” I tried using my anger to resist him.

“Am I?” Bates grinned at me. “If that’s so, then what does that make you? After all, you’re all here. I have your Nails. I have your sacred scrolls. In fact, you’ve basically done everything I orchestrated.” And seeing the look of confusion on our faces, he happily explained. “Don’t you see? I’ve been pulling the strings all along. Surely, John, you know that the assailants who harassed you for lo these many years were all sent by me, right? And, Lazarus, we’ve already discussed how Mystery was sent to beguile you – with much success I might add. And Mary, oh Mary, where do you think all your premonitions came from? Certainly not from Above. No indeed, I sent them to you. Although I rather love what you did with them – 1492 is coming for you? This is the way you tried to disguise your warning? By making a clever code with a reference to Columbus? Well, you might have added your own touch, but the information was still from me. It’s all rather comical, don’t you think?”

“I don’t believe you.” Miriam stamped her foot in protest.

“No matter. I can go on. Although I didn’t create the prophets, I can attest that they were sent back because of me – so in a way I am responsible for them too. And of course, there can be no disputing that I was the one who had them killed – after all, the world still views me as a savior for that, right?” Then, turning back to Miriam, he asked, “My darling, who do you think pulled you out of Acedia?”

Acedia

Caught off guard at this unexpected memory, Miriam blanched, unable to respond.

“Ah, don’t trouble yourself.” Bates cajoled. “I will let you in on a little secret – I rescued you and Lazarus. After all, I brought him into that world, so only I could really let him out. I just wanted you to come here so that you could take Lazarus back to John to be cured – that allowed us to further things along a bit. Are you starting to get the picture? Ah, good. I can see you are. OK, let’s see, so where does that take us – ah yes, Mary and Lazarus go to Rome, fail to show Benedict any courtesy by advising him you’ve arrived, and instead you secretly dig in the Vatican’s most sacred vault – and for what? A worthless letter to a popess who never should have been? Why did you work so hard to protect that? It told me nothing! So, score one for your side, I let Marrollo reveal himself in order to capture your treasure.  But no matter, for my plans proceeded regardless. You followed that old coot Marrollo like puppies – right into my hands.” His voice dripping with mirth, The Beast turned back to me, “And, naturally, John, you felt the shame that was to be expected for deserting your friends. I knew Gabriel Big-Mouth would warn you not to, but that you couldn’t resist coming to save your friends, could you? I figured you’d use one of your inane disguises, but The Baron? Again? Come on, John, you could do better than that. You’re making the game too easy for me – you’re taking the fun out of it.”

“You expect me to believe that you are omnipotent now?” I replied.

“Would you like me to go back further in time?” Bates slithered. “Shall we discuss… Tower Bay? Hmmm?”

The devastation that was Tower Bay

“You’ve made your point!” I snarled. “Wha—“

“You know you can never truly win!” Miriam yelled out, pointing at The Beast. “Regardless of what happens on this world, in the end, you are doomed to failure.”

“Oh, Mary, you speak of things so far over your head it’s comical.” Bates clearly enjoyed the banter. “You really don’t get it, do you? So I’ve told you about a few strings that I pulled concerning you three and this petty little world. But, can’t you see that the War is to be won with each individual battle? Of course, my father and I are not fool enough to believe that we will control all of Creation at once – in fact, we may never accomplish that feat. And yet, it doesn’t matter – not to me, and certainly not to you.” 

Here Bates’ smile twisted into such a fiendish grin that even Benedict was a bit taken aback.

And still The Beast crowed, “Here is the essence of it all… this world is all of YOUR existence, it’s all you know. It’s all you are. Yet once I take ownership everything in it becomes MINE. Mine to possess for all time – that includes you… and your eternal souls. “


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27 – The Temptation
Book III Table of Contents

3.24 Into the Fires

Book III: Chapter 24
November 13

“What?” I blurted out – a bit too loud — after Miriam had just told me about Cardinal Marrollo’s seeming desire to destroy Bill Bates.

Immediately after my shout there was a knock at the door from the guards outside; one of them called in urgently, “Baron, is everything all right?”

“Yes, yes.? I ran to the door. “All is fine. Please, leave us alone for another minute or so.”

Turning back to my friends I hissed, “Finish the story, then we must leave.”

Miriam was now lost in thought so Alan took up the tale, “I don’t possess Miriam’s abilities, so I can’t vouch for what she saw in her mind. All I can say is there was something strange going on – as if we were part of History in Motion. Nevertheless, our Moment of Truth passed and suddenly Marrollo bolted out of the room – still carrying The Nail. But we hadn’t come all that way for him anyway – for the man we wanted was right before our eyes and finally we had him!

“Despite his flailing against us,” Alan continued, “Bates wasn’t much of a physical opponent. The two of us overpowered him and drove him back towards the cross upon which Mystery was still hanging. Her blood rained down upon Bates as we pinned him there – and yet, even then, I could tell he wasn’t really afraid of us.”

“Until we pulled out our Nails!” Miriam jumped in. “Then fear – true Primal FEAR – was suddenly evident in Bates visage. It was as if, for the first time in eons, The Beast knew he was facing Destruction.”

“Bill began to wail in some awful, guttural language,” Alan shuddered, “it was a dialect older than anything I had ever heard – Evil in every way. If I had to guess, I would say it dated back to Babel itself, or perhaps even earlier, say–“

“Alan, we’re getting off topic.” Miriam chided. “The bottom line is this — regardless of what Bates was saying, suddenly he KNEW he was facing Death. But we didn’t give him any more time to think of a way out – instead, Alan and I plunged our Nails into his chest!”

“But… but… this doesn’t make sense?” I was angry that I couldn’t understand. “I just told you Bill Bates is out there now in his full-on Ghaz al’ Ridwan Ma’bus persona; I just saw him with my own eyes.” And then, asking a question I thought I would never ask, with my faith nearly faltering, I whispered, “Didn’t your…Nails have any…effect on him?”

“Of course they did.” Miriam advised. “Or at least, we all thought they did – Bill Bates included! Because when we drove our spikes into him, Bates must have felt their <power>. His face became a mask of terror and he began to writhe so badly that Alan and I were driven backwards.”

After taking a moment to collect herself, Miriam continued. “Our Nails remained lodged within Bates’ midsection even as he fell to the floor and continued convulsing! By now there was naught we could do but watch… and hope.”

“John, I tell you I really thought we had done it!” Alan agreed. “I thought we had finally destroyed The Beast!”

“Well, obviously not.” I muttered. “So what went wrong?”

“All of this happened so fast, mind you. But, like I said before, it was as if a Moment of Truth, a History Opportunity if you will, had come and gone, and alas the result was another escape for The Beast – for though we witnessed the demon fall, so too did we see him rise back up – in triumph.”

Dr. Ma’bus celebrated in all his glory.

“It was awful.” Miriam lamented. “Even as we watched, Bates rose, as if from the dead, and of a sudden, he bolted up, full of power, and showing his true face. John, there is no doubt he IS The Beast!”

“We both thought we were done for,” Alan added, “but at that very moment the door to the room burst open again, and Marrollo came barging back into the room.”

“Everything was still in slow motion except for Bates.” Miriam labored, remembering, “As The Beast surged with power, our Nails that were lodged within him came bursting forth — they flew outwards, whizzing past our heads as we barely had time to duck.”

“And our nails slammed into Marrollo.” I surmised, as if seeing the scene unfold in my mind’s eye.

“How did you know?” Miriam gasped.

“It was inevitable, given the fabric of your story.” And trying to allay my fears with humor, “After all, I AM a writer, remember?”

“You are correct.” Alan replied. “Impaled with OUR nails, Marrollo slumped against the wall, even as Bates’ masked guards surrounded us.”

“Suddenly we realized that it was WE who had failed.” Miriam lamented. “For we tried to kill The Beast with only TWO of the Nails and our Folly was to try to accomplish our mission in our own way instead of waiting for you to join us again.”

Even as she said these words, I felt my spine tingle – knowing that I was presently committing the same hasty sin. (Oh, Lord, forgive me. But what can I do now? I’m here, so I have to move forward right?)

“But that wasn’t the worst of it.” Alan broke my thoughts.

“Oh?” I asked.

“Worse than anything was hearing Bates’ diabolical cackling.” Alan covered his ears at the memory. “It was triumphant, evil, and insane. And even as the palace guards apprehended us, Bill Bates stood there and kept laughing.”

“It was a sound I’ll never forget.” Miriam added, she too visibly shaken at the memory.

“Hehehehehahaha! Hehehehehahaha!” As if on cue, suddenly a cacophonous echo carried into the room through the door – a sound that caused all three of us to cower in fear!

“My God, that’s the laugh!” Alan gasped.

“Lord, save us!” Miriam’s face was white as snow.

<BOOM!> The door to the room burst inward.

“Hehehehehahaha! Hehehehehahaha!”  Bill Bates’ laughter filled the room as he stood in the doorway, followed closely by Pope Benedict and my little friend Colonel McGubbins! “Hehehehehahaha! Hehehehehahaha!” 

Even as that snitch McGubbins gloated over me, I knew my failure had more to do with my actions than his – although that knowledge didn’t make it any easier to see the little twit preening in delight.

Quite frankly I wanted to knock his block off. 

And so the consequences of my sins continued…


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25 – Paradise Lost
Book III Table of Contents

3.23 Out of the Frying Pan

Book III: Chapter 23
November 13

At the revelation of my rescue attempt, a newfound hope was evident on the faces of my friends – therefore I repeated my earlier question, “Are they safe? Do you still have The Nails?”

The Nails of Jesus

At that point the smiles fell from Alan and Miriam, and I didn’t need to hear them answer to know that it wasn’t good.

Even still, Alan advised, “After we left you, we went to Rome. We found Miriam’s Letter from La Papessa. Unfortunately Cardinalate Marrollo found us.”

Cardinal Marrollo

“He forced us to see Benedict.” Miriam took up the tale. “We thought Marrollo gave The Pope La Papessa’s letter and that Marrollo was working for Benedict.”

“The good news – at the time anyway,” Alan added, “was that Benedict convinced us that he was NOT The Second Helper and that all of his overtures to support Bates in the world spotlight were just a ruse – meant to allow him to keep tabs on Bates. Sort of a keep your friends close and your enemies closer type of a deal.”

“Well, given what went on out there tonight, I’m not sure we can trust Benedict anymore.” I replied. “This is a VERY private meeting and he would have had no reason to show his support for Bates’ Ma’bus persona… unless he really meant it.”

“That’s what we feared.” Miriam agreed. “We could hear all the shouting when they were sentencing us.”

“OK. OK. But what happened with you and Benedict?” I tried to change the subject.

“Naturally he wanted our Nails.” Alan answered. “We told him we would go get them and bring them back, but after we left him we chased after Marrollo instead. For although I could do nothing to stop him, I realized that Marrollo never gave La Papessa’s letter to Benedict but instead used a slight of hand to slip him a worthless re-creation.”

Marrollo’s slight of hand was good but not this good, eh?

“So you noticed that ruse too, eh?” I smiled. But when he didn’t understand how I could have know about the trick, I added, “Never mind, please continue.”

“So anyway, when we learned that he did not in fact give La Papessa’s letter to Benedict, we surmised that Marrollo was actually in league with Bates.”

“And we reasoned that if Benedict was not the Second Helper, then Marrollo must be!” Miriam added.

“So we chased Marrollo to Baghdad.” Alan continued. “Miriam used her mind tricks to help us to infiltrate the infamous Dr. Ma’bus’ palace. She tracked down both of our villains and then we stormed in upon them in one of Bates’ private chambers — ready to send The Beast and his Helper back to the Fiery Pits! But then…”

A long pause.

“And then?” I prompted (now regretting the fact that my power of Sight had been taken from me!)

“To this day, I still am not sure what was really was going on there.” Miriam eyes were distant. But it was a scene I will never forget…”

“Well, did you find Bates in there or not?” I asked urgently.

“Oh, we found Bates…” Alan explained, “And Marrollo… and they were indeed in the Chairman’s chambers. Furthermore, they were quite… distracted – which allowed us to sneak in on them. But they were not in fact alone – Mystery was there too.”

Mystery

“Mystery, but why?” I asked.

“Because Marrollo was crucifying her to an upside down cross right there within Bates’ bedroom!” Miriam blurted. “And all the while, Bates was looking on… and laughing.”

Ma’bus or Jafar?

“Oh how Mystery writhed in agony upon that cross.” Alan closed his eyes tight against the image. “Regardless of the fact that she was an evil wench, the sight itself was horrible. The blood… the screaming… her eyes…”

“Yes. Yes. I get the picture.” I replied anxiously. Then, running back to the door to listen, I urged my friends, “We’re running out of time here. What happened next?”

“This is where it gets confusing.” Miriam answered. “As we barged in, Bates was handing Marrollo the case that held Alan’s Nail. Marrollo was wearing some sort of glove that apparently allowed him to pick up The Nail and he grabbed it just as Bates turned around to face us. And then it was as if we all got caught up in a sea of… er… emotional mystery.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“It’s hard to explain.” Alan said. “Mystery was barely alive and when she saw us barge in, for a brief moment, a ray of hope crossed her face. But when she recognized us, and especially when she laid eyes on Miriam, she knew we would NOT be saving her from her fate.” Here I noticed that Miriam couldn’t help but smile even as Alan spoke on. “As for Bates, he stopped laughing and instead began to rain down curses upon us.”

“But none of this sounds too surprising to me.” I interrupted. “They reacted just as I would have expected.”

“Let me finish. You are correct — Mystery and Bates didn’t do anything that surprised us.”

“It was Marrollo!” Miriam couldn’t resist. “As he was holding The Nail, and while Bates was facing us — with his back towards Marrollo – I caught hold of the cardinal’s eyes – if only for a moment. And… I caught a glimpse into his mind… and the <thought> I saw there was amazing!”

Nobody said a word as Miriam took a moment to collect herself, “I would swear on my life that, in that moment, Marrollo was contemplating using The Nail… to stab the demon that has become Ghaz al Ridwan Ma’bus!”


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24 – Into the Fires
Book III Table of Contents

3.12 The White Warrior

Book III: Chapter 12
November 1

For whatever reason, I got the urge to flip on the tube again (well, like I said, I was addicted).

Oh, I knew there was no chance of a baseball game – for all sporting events had long been cancelled. Furthermore, I had heard that most cable stations were now defunct as well – after all, people no longer had time for watching The Travel Channel or QVC – instead only a few national networks were left, and those were now solely devoted to delivering news and propaganda public service announcements related to Covid Health Safety requirements, the need for more Climate lockdowns, and the importance for everyone to spend their monthly UBI credits before they expired.

Locked down at home again and now without television shows as their opiate, people were just trying to survive to the next catastrophe.

Everybody knew it was coming, they just didn’t know what ‘IT’ would be or when it would occur.

(Would you be surprised to learn that churches the world over were filled with suddenly devout believers? Of course all the services were ONLINE since live worship had long since been banned back in 2022 for pandemic safety purposes).


In any case, there I sat, on my recliner (WITHOUT a drink, mind you), and with the TV remote gripped nervously in my hands.

<CLICK>

“….refugees moving from China into India,” said an announcer, as the TV panned over a limitless line of forsaken wanderers in dirty masks moving along a dusty road, “There is nowhere for them to—“

<CLICK>

“…join the National Relief Effort,” pleaded a young lady in full hazmat gear on a public service commercial, “come to Nevada, help us make—“

<CLICK>

“…Help is on the way. So remember, if you are—“

<CLICK>

“Ah, it’s meaningless!” I turned the TV off again. Yet, even as I was about to get up and go back to bed, something pulled me back.

<CLICK> <CLICK>

I turned to Channel 13 – thankfully it was still on the air. Once again I saw nothing more than an ordinary newscast – talking about still more destruction. For nearly thirty minutes I watched, appalled at the devastation.

“Why, Lord?” I began to cry. “Where is the Good Shepherd?”

And then, even as the signal blurred on my TV, I realized what was coming — The Two Witnesses.

Once more I watched Elijah and Enoch as they languished in their dank cell.

By now they were even more disgusting looking than the last time I saw them, but as they lay there in apparent sleep, I was certain that an awful new prophecy was about to come forth.

Time dragged by in the moments that preceded their resurrection.

And then, suddenly Enoch opened his empty eye sockets and began to groan as he raised himself upright, slobber running from his toothless maw, “We are the Olive Trees.”

His words seemed to revive Elijah and, as if on cue, he thrust out his hands, “The Two Lampstands – giving the only true light to the world.”

“The Prisoners Of Chillon” By Ferdinand Victor Eugene Delacroix

“Today is the day.” Enoch smiled.

“It has been 1,260 days since we returned.” Elijah confirmed.

I knew what was about to happen.

Revelation 11.” I gasped at the implications. “ He’s going to murder them. And worse yet, he’ll be a hero for it!”

The scene on the TV couldn’t have unfolded any more scripted than if I had been the director: for at that moment the camera panned over to the prison door.

Silently the portal opened and in walked a lone man. Clothed all in white and armed with a scimitar – the curved blade polished to a blinding brightness– the man’s face was shrouded by a heavy turban, one which covered his entire face, and even though his eyes looked familiar, I could not make out for certain who he was.

(Benedict? Bates? Marrollo? I just didn’t know. Yet one thing I was sure about – this was The Beast!)

The prophets must have sensed the presence of the intruder as well. And, surely they must have known what was about to happen, for I watched as Enoch raised his arms protectively…

…only to be viciously cut down!

For his part, Elijah did not resist, instead he simply lay back down, smiled, and waited to be destroyed.

The Beast kindly obliged — splattering Elijah’s blood across the walls.

For this was a holy war and, although I knew that the world over was likely rejoicing at the pseudo-deliverance just provided by this mystery man, in reality, I retched at the sight.

Don’t you realize what this means?

Satan’s Son had taken one step closer to Victory!

<CLICK>

I couldn’t bear to watch any more. For I realized something else…

It’s about to get all kinds of crazy up in here…


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13- Careful What You Wish For
Book III Table of Contents

2.38 Prepare the Way for the Lord

Book II: Chapter 38
July 15

To be honest, right now I didn’t know what to make of the situation because it appeared The Pope was now openly reveling in the deaths of millions of people!

Alan too was appalled. “How dare you?”

“Oh come off it, man.” Benedict scoffed. “Don’t be a baby. You’ve seen Miriam’s Book of Life. You’ve read your friend John’s Revelation. You know that the wheat must be separated from the chaff. Yes, even among my own Catholic flocks there are many who are not worthy of the coming of our Lord.” And pounding his fists on his desk, “You know that He is not coming back as a Lamb this time, but as a Lion — to cleanse this world of Sin once and for all. Yes, many will perish – and rightly so! Let the evil doers be cast into the Fiery Pit, I say, for that is their destiny!”

Here Pope Joe took a moment to catch his breath, and after a pause, he said in a normal voice, “But, don’t worry, all is not lost. Those of us who are The Chosen will survive and be glorified with Our Lord. That includes you two as well. You have nothing to fear.”

(Gee, that makes me feel so much better – NOT!)

“Just the same,” Miriam grumbled, “You could have done a better job of informing us of your plans.”

“Point well made, dear. Nonetheless, you now know.”

“OK. So what now?” Alan asked.

“Simple – we ensure December 21st goes according to OUR plans.”

Here Miriam stole a glance at Alan – a fact that did not go unnoticed by Joseph who proudly advised, “The whole world is anticipating Chief Rabbi Yona Metzger’s December 21 celebration in Jerusalem. For the first time in thousands of years, our planet will see a peaceful union between Christians, Jews, and Muslims!”

“But do you really believe this is possible?” Alan questioned.

“What? Pshaw – not a chance!” Benedict waved a hand and relaxed back into his chair. “The ceremony is a sham anyway – it’s a bigger farce than Covid. Bates isn’t going to Metzger’s event out of some misguided social calling, but instead to reveal himself to the world – as The Beast!”

“But, Your Grace, if that’s true,” Alan proceeded with caution, “then why would YOU want to be there?”

And Miriam added, “Don’t you realize that Bates plans to kill both you and Metzger? Are you trying to martyr yourself?”

“Of course not.” The Pope laughed long at that. “Do you think I don’t know the man Ma’bus’ plans? The Beast must destroy Peter’s Rock in order to unleash Hell – at least that’s what he thinks will happen. But what he doesn’t know is that I have my own plans.” And he let the bait hang enticingly.

“So where do my friends and I fit into your plans?” Alan broke the silence. “Are we supposed to be present at the ceremony too?”

Miriam was clearly appalled that Alan would so flippantly reveal secret information. However, she was likely more shocked to hear Joe’s reply.

“Don’t worry – you need not be present.” The Pope explained, as if a parent to his children. “If you’ll simply listen to what I’m trying to tell you then you’ll realize that I have a way to save you from the Armageddon Rite! In fact, it’s one of the reasons I am so happy to see you today – to tell you, and Mary, and yes even John – that you have fulfilled your duties.  My friends, your mission is over!”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Miriam was annoyed at The Pope’s patronizing tone.

“Just this,” Joseph overlooked Miriam’s insult. “For two thousand years you three have been the pillar of stability – working long and hard to protect Jesus’ Nails. The world thanks you for it. I thank you for it. However, you need not guard The Nail’s any longer. It is time to give them to me.”

(Ah, that gambit again, Joe?)

“I’m not sure I agree.” Miriam said softly, eyes narrowed.

“It just doesn’t make sense.” Alan added.

Joe measured his words, “On the contrary, it makes perfect sense. Consider that John the Baptist had the duty to prepare the way of the Lord. And when the time of destiny arrived – when he met Jesus – John was faced with a choice: hang on to his fame and reject the Lord as his replacement, or understand it was time for History to move ahead. As you know John made the right choice – and went down in history as one of the greatest prophets of all time. In the end, his life was viewed as the bridge between the sorrows of the Old Testament and the hope of the New Testament. And yet, what would have happened had John had not let Jesus take center stage?”

(Now that’s an interesting thought. So you’re telling me that MY mission was merely to be a time wasting lackey all this time? That’s great, just great).

“And so that brings us to you.” Joe continued. “Like John, you are a bridge to the future – in this case, you are the bridge between the New Testament and The Rapture. The question is, will you acc—“

“Wait!” Miriam interrupted. “Why didn’t Gabriel tell me any of this?”

“He told ME, dear.” The Pope averred. “Remember, your time has passed. I know that sounds harsh, but given the dire circumstances we don’t have time to mince words. As The Rock of Peter — as Christ’s chosen representative mind you — I am the One whose destiny is NOW. Again, I am grateful beyond measure for the diligent duty you three have fulfilled. But, you must recognize MY place — I am The Deliverer.”

And rising up from his chair, Joseph Ratzinger proclaimed, “Even if I am all alone, I will stand in the breach against The Beast!! But, I can’t fulfill MY duty – I can’t bring about the Deliverance of Our Lord — unless you first acquiesce to me. In the end, it’s a final test of faith – will you trust in your own designs or will you allow The Lord’s work to be done?”

Mouths agape in disbelief, neither Alan nor Miriam could respond. Sensing his victory was secure, The Pope pushed for a quick close, “Mary, in the vision that John told you about, who is the one to destroy this Ma’bus?”

(Whoa, hold on there, cowboy – how in the Hell did YOU know about that?!?)

Head bowed, Miriam answered, “You.”

“And how did I accomplish this? By what instruments?”

There was a long pause but at last Miriam whispered, “With our Nails.”

“That settles it. So, I will ask you again – will you deliver m–”

“Just a minute here!” Alan stalled. “With all due respect, Your Grace, there is still a most important point that has remained a mystery – pardon my pun – but if you really want to confirm our trust, help us to understand your connection to Teri Abbracciavento. Why are you mixed up with Mystery?”

Joe was visibly taken aback by that question, but as usual, he had an explanation, “Why, I’m surprised that you don’t know the answer already.”

“We don’t.” Miriam grated. “Please enlighten us.”

“It’s simple really. I am using Teri as a double agent against the man Ma’bus.” By now The Pope had recovered his smugness and seemed to enjoy telling about his spy games. “It has always been a given that Mystery worked for The Beast – after all, that is her destiny. But, like a fool, Bates overplayed his hand – sending Mystery to me as a self-proclaimed traitor. Did he really think I would fall for such a ruse? Sure, I let Mystery play her games with me,” and here he looked away in thought, before catching himself, “but only to a point mind you! The fact of the matter is this – Teri has given me valuable information about Bates; and best of all, she believes that I don’t know about her duplicitous dealings.”

“So, in essence, Teri is a double double agent?” Alan was confused.

“Verily — she wants me to think she is working for me as a double agent against Dr. Ma’bus, even though she is still secretly working FOR him – or at least she believes she is. In reality, I’m not sure that Teri really knows WHO holds her true allegiance.”

(But how does JOE know all this???)

“That’s quite a game of reverse psychology.” Miriam grinned — clearly enjoying the vision of a much confused Mystery.

“Well, I do have some small experience in that field.” Joe smiled with Miriam. But turning serious, he re-directed, “Let’s stop stalling. About those Nails…”

Once more Alan and Miriam looked at each other – both still unsure. At last, in his frustration, The Pope reached down to his desk and picked up the small package that Cardinalate Marrollo had delivered to him, “Does your silence have anything to do with THIS?”

Miriam’s eyes lit up at the sight of the scroll, yet before she could comment, Joe had slashed the wax seal and began to read aloud.

As The Pope read Marrollo’s scroll, I watched Miriam work hard to control her emotions — even though I could not read her thoughts, I could tell that her mind was literally screaming…

Alan! Alan! That is NOT my letter to La Papessa!

With that my vision ended.


At first I was frustrated to be left with so many questions.

In the end I reminded myself that while all this was rather interesting, it didn’t really matter much to me.

Instead, I was finally free to get back to something important.

I was finally ready to destroy myself.

And now, most important of all, I was 100% confident I could do it!

End of Book II


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Read Book III Golgotha Revisited

2.37 It’s Not You, It’s Me

Book II: Chapter 37
July 15

I watched as Alan and Miriam were led as prisoners through the secret corridors of the Vatican underworld. After his brutal beating, Alan was nearly unconscious, while Miriam’s face was the picture of confusion. It seemed clear to me that she didn’t recognize Cardinalate Marrollo — and the fact that his mind had earlier repelled her Psychic Probe must have been disconcerting indeed.

Was she perplexed by a man who was addressed as ‘His Majesty’ and yet was clearly not the Pope?

Cardinalate Marrollo

Who was this gang of monks willing to do his every bidding – up to and including brutal violence?

Most importantly, how could she and Alan escape?

Whatever Miriam might have thought, I had no way of knowing, and before she had time to figure out how to escape, suddenly Marrollo turned around in front of a service elevator and announced, “Benedict awaits.”

As it turned out, Pope Benedict XVI was indeed waiting for the prisoners in the conservatory of his private residence. And when Marrollo and his masked crew walked in, I noticed the smile on Joseph’s unmasked face – it was the picture of a certain underlying hunger he was unable to contain.

“Excellent…”

(Hmm, Joe was clearly eager to learn more about the intruders, but did he really care about secret treasures they’d allegedly stolen or was it something more… sinister?)

“So, who are our grave robbers?” The Pope asked casually, but when the group of monks separated to reveal their prisoners, Joe immediately changed his tone, “Get out — all but Marrollo and the prisoners!” When they hesitated he arose, “The Curse of the Angel of Death be upon you if you all don’t leave my presence this very instant!”

The priests hurried out of the room, the fear of God speeding their exit. Meanwhile, Miriam was left to try to help Alan get mask back on and then get into one of the chairs to rest, after which she stood silent, waiting.

As for Marrollo, although I couldn’t see his visage behind the mask, he seemed fairly unfazed as he approached the Pope. “I found this on the woman.” And here his left hand emerged from his robes as he handed over a small scroll.

(Now for some reason I had a fleeting thought that something was off about the way that Marrollo had just handed over his prize to Joe, yet before I could consider further the inkling was lost).

Marrollo added, “I have fulfilled my duties. You have the prisoners and that which they sought. I leave the remainder of the matter to you.”

Joseph looked long at the Cardinalate, before finally nodding his ascent. With the Pope’s approval, Marrollo turned around and left – without a further glance at his captives.

(Strange man, huh?)

Once they were alone, Joseph turned towards Miriam and Alan, “Do my eyes deceive me? Is it really you? Darling, you can remove that silly mask here, don’t you remember the Covid Rules don’t apply here.”

“I feel more comfortable with it on, thank you, Your Grace.” Miriam replied guardedly.

“Suit yourself. But I must say – how pleasant it is when brothers and sisters come together in unity, right?” Joseph smiled, but then, remembering the circumstances, “But what happened? You know you have full reign of my city; why would you ever need to sneak around behind my back? Unless… do you no longer trust ME?”

“No, it’s not that.” Miriam lied. “Well, you see, it’s just that… what we had to do… er, it didn’t really involve…”

“Enough!” The Pope slammed his fist.

“Let’s cut to the heart of the matter.” Pope Benedict continued. “The real reason you are here is… the time is now.” And before Miriam could reply, he added, “The Beast is Bill Bates in the form of Ghaz al’ Ridwan Ma’bus and we all know it.”

(Is it? I honestly don’t know anymore).

Miriam looked over at Alan who appeared to have recovered. Sitting up in his chair, ALan flashed a wink to Miriam, then nodded to The Pope.

“I can see that you agree.” Joe concluded

“But, why do YOU agree, Your Grace?” Alan asked.  

“Lazarus, how can you doubt that I would be informed about this situation? Why, ensuring The Second Coming is a matter of state around here. Come now, I represent an entire world of believers. The tapestry of history that my Catholic children have lived surely rivals what you, Mary, and John have done – despite your long lives.” And then, as if realizing it for the first time, “But wait, where is John?”

He chose not to come, Your Grace.” Alan explained sadly. “We still hold out hope that he will join us, but his participation is very much in question. You see, John is experiencing a period of doubt.”

“We all have our doubts. Frankly, I’m a bit upset with you for not coming to me sooner – it made me doubt the intelligence I’d received proclaiming BAVI, er, Bates as The Beast — for I knew that Satan’s son would not emerge with you three idling in the background. Do you realize that your hesitation has allowed the man calling himself Dr. Ma’bus extra time to secure his place?” And looking at Miriam he grumbled, “How many lives have been lost in your Book of Life?”

Miriam avoided his glance, “You know the final number is only 144,000. It cannot be avoided. And we are not there yet.”

“Then why do you cry about it? It is what it is. We all have our part to play and some of us will be required to die for the cause – that’s why it’s called ‘sacrifice.’ All that matters is the End Game.” And, with a snicker the Pope added, “Ah, but don’t worry about your own hesitation — because I have not been so idle. In fact, I’ve been orchestrating events behind the scenes and playing our moves to perfection. As a result, the outcome is inevitable – why Kasparov himself couldn’t have played a better game!”

Confident in his plans, Benedict said encouragingly, “Buck up, friends, keep your eye on the prize and remember what we’re playing for — our Lord is about to return! And WE are responsible for making it happen!”

(Is Joe really one of the Good Guys or is he just playing us?)

“Excuse us if we don’t quite share your exuberance.” Alan replied. “The game is not over, thus the outcome is far from certain.”

“It’s called ‘Faith,’ my friends. Try it for a change.” And before they could dispute him, Joe spoke on, “In any event, the fact of the matter is that Bates IS The Beast, the time IS now, and WE are responsible for stopping him.” And after the briefest of pauses to lick his lips, “Am I to assume that you have The Nails with you?”

(Oh, Joe, you sly dog!)

Miriam’s gaze fell into her lap, and Alan stuttered to reply, “We don’t have all three Nails anymore. Ah, er… Dr. Ma’bus… has mine.”

“Oh. I’m so sorry. How did it happen?” The Pope was clearly fishing.

Alan looked to Miriam for support and when she nodded, he took that as her approval for him to tell his tale, therefore he spent the next candlemark or so explaining the highlights of his capture and torture at the hands of Dr. Flipflop and Bill Bates. He talked about the Fallen Angels, about Bates’ devious plans, and even about the terrible Chairs of Woe.

Alan in the Chair of Woe

All the while Joe listened as if hearing the information for the first time.

(He is such a good actor – I guess it goes with the office).

In case you’re wondering, there was no point for Miriam to try her Psychic Probe on the Pope — this wasn’t the first time she and Joe had crossed paths – like me, she had known him for many years prior to his ascension to the papal throne. I remember one of her letters from a while back (one that I actually read) in which she described meeting an unusual clergyman whose mind was closed to her. In the letter, she warned Alan and I to keep an eye on this priest named Joseph Ratzinger. I didn’t pay it much mind back then (this was perhaps 50 years ago), but I guess Miriam’s inclination was right. And yet, I’m sure that, as she sat before him on this day, she was more than a little bitter than she couldn’t sift through the Pope’s mental fibers to find out if he was really a friend or a foe.

Just then I realized that I hadn’t been paying attention to the conversation…

“…see that you agree.” Joseph was saying. “But what I don’t understand is where are Mary and John’s Nails?”

“They are safe.” Miriam averred.

“Well, let me see them.”

“We don’t have them on us.”

“That’s preposterous! Considering what happened with Alan’s Nail, I should think that you would have them strapped to your side.  Come. Come. No lies. I know you have them, let’s see them.”

“Miriam speaks the truth.” Alan said. “Don’t worry, they are safe.”

“As safe as your Budapest bank vault? Alan. Mary. I have known you my whole life. I don’t understand what has happened between us. Why do you doubt me now? What have I done to make you think I am not who I really am?”

(Well for starters, Joe, you’ve been hanging around with Mystery. And you’re an open supporter of Ma’bus. And then there was my dream about you actually killing Ma’bus!)

“It’s not you,” Miriam began.

“Oh don’t you dare try to give me the it’s not you, it’s me speech.” The Pope interrupted. “I think you owe me a little more than that.”

“What do you want us to say?” Alan squirmed.

“I want the truth!” Joseph’s face grew red with anger.

“Then what would YOU do if you were in our position?” Miriam’s anger matched The Pope’s. “Why are you surprised if we are hesitant about you if all we see of you in the public eye is you palling around with Bates?” And with even more passion, “Joseph, surely you know that your actions are driving people around the world to follow this man Ma’bus – yet to us it seems as if they were merely sheep being led to the slaughter!”

“Ah, but most of them are.” The Pope was grinning from ear to ear and his eyes were suddenly blazing with fire.

(What? Joe, say it ain’t so? Are you revealing yourself as The Beast?!?)


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38 – Prepare the Way for the Lord
Book II Table of Contents

2.36 Friar Tuck’s UNMerry Men

Book II: Chapter 36
July 15

Bored out of my mind, at last I watched as Alan followed Miriam out of the cubby they’d been hiding in and back into the wooden stall they started from yesterday, and then out from there and into the Chapel of the Choir at St. Peter’s Basilica. Once more they were masked, gloved, and wearing their Covid QR Passes.

Miriam took a quick walk to the chapel’s entrance and, when she felt comfortable that the coast was clear, she motioned Alan to follow. I watched as they blended into a nearby tour group that was on its way to the piazza. Here Alan took a deep breath and then proceeded forward.

Unfortunately his happy attitude was short lived – for as the tour group began leaving the atrium to exit the basilica, he and Miriam were suddenly awash in a new wave of people – a group of masked monks who surrounded them and, covertly yet forcibly, moved my friends towards the Patio of Saint Gregory the Illuminator.

“The 4 Monks” by Rinaldi

“What’s going on?” Alan asked the clergymen holding his arms.

“Resistance is futile.” One of the priests replied stoically, as he and his rank continued to maneuver their captives into an elevator.

“But we’ve already seen The Dome.” Miriam protested, still playing the part of tourist.

“Don’t worry, madam,” the same priest spoke again, “you’re not going Up.”

And with that, he inserted a key into the elevator panel and and caused the lift to go in a direction the public never went – Down.

“Oh joy,” Alan quipped, “yet another secret locale. I’ve had about enough of all this covert maneuvering for one day.”

None of the monks replied to that comment, but soon enough the ride was over and the priests forced their prey out into a dim corridor.

“Kneel!” The lead monk barked. “Kneel before The Hand of God!”

(Ah, that’s a bit over dramatic, don’t you think?)

From out of nowhere a menacing figure emerged – his presence oozing of an ancient <power>.

He was a mass of black robes – layers of heavy fabric obscuring his true form; and curiously enough, his face was hidden by a venetian mask – a full-face Carne Ricci, with golden highlights around the curved mouth, raised eyebrows, black fabric folds pluming out in all directions above the mask’s forehead, and pearls to outline the trim work. (Like all other face masks, it was more for show than for protection against any virus, but at least the Carne Ricci didn’t claim to be anything other than it actually was).

The person wearing the mask was none other than Cardinalate Giovanni Marrollo – the new Confuto Penitentiary of The Vatican

(Oh no, not this crazy mite again).

The cascade of robes that graced the macabre figure made it seem as if he were gliding over the walkway towards Alan and Miriam, and he didn’t stop his approach until he was nearly on top of them.

I saw suddenly Miriam blanch white and guessed that she had just tried using her Psychic Probe but was repelled – clearly not a good omen.

“Don’t look up to your superior, dog!” Their clergyman captor yelled, while his cohorts forced Alan and Miriam to bow their heads.

At last, the mystery man spoke, “I believe you have something that belongs to me?” And he held out his hand to Miriam.

Miriam kept her head down. “I don’t know what you’re talk—“

<SMACK!> One of the monks struck Alan with a vicious slap, knocking off his mask and sending him to the ground in a heap. Before Alan could yelp out in pain, his attacker laid into him with multiple kicks to the midsection while the other monks struggled to hold him open to more blows – and all the while Marrollo looked upon the scene in stoic silence.

“STOP!” Miriam screamed. “STOP!!” She shook an arm free in order to reach into her pocket and pull out the Doomsday Missive.

“Ah, good.” The mystery man said as he accepted the scroll Miriam held out to him. “I was afraid you were going to make me ask you twice. That would not have turned out well for your friend here.”

For his part, Alan was trying hard to catch his breath as he struggled to put back on his mask. The side of his face was torn, his ear on that side was puffy and red, and I wouldn’t be surprised if one of his ribs was broken from those vicious kicks. Nonetheless, it was the look of dejection on his face that caught me most – disappointed to see that Miriam had just given up the object they had worked so hard to retrieve.

Meanwhile Marrollo cast but a glance at the scroll, and quickly pulled it into the overhanging sleeve of his right arm. “Well and good. Shall we?”

“Where are we going?” Miriam asked, as the guards forced them up.

<SMASH!> At a signal from the robed man, one of the monks pummeled Alan with a right cross to the jaw – buckling the professor’s knees and throwing his mask askew again.

Marrollo turned back to address Miriam, “I’d prefer that you not speak unless spoken to. But, since I was of a mind to tell you the answer to that question anyway, I’ll respond – after all, there is only one thing to do with you…” And he let the thought hang invitingly.

Luckily for Alan’s sake, Miriam didn’t take the bait and after it became obvious that she was not going to speak up – and thus give the monks a chance to further abuse Alan.

At last the cardinal snickered, “I see that you learn quickly. In any event, you’ve been caught stealing priceless artifacts and the penalty for that offense is death.” And here he paused again, as if he had something distasteful in his mouth, before he continued with a sigh. “Nonetheless, only the Pope can deliver the verdict. And unfortunately it won’t be my puppet Francis; instead you’ll be taken to Benedict immediately so he can pronounce your fate.” Then in a more chipper tone, “After that, you’ll be given back to Friar James and his crew. They will oversee your… execution.”


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37 – It’s Not You, It’s Me
Book II Table of Contents

2.27 A Rose by Any Other Name

Book II: Chapter 27
July 12

My last jibe did not disappoint – and with both Alan and Miriam wfhite-faced, I went for the kill, “Lighten up, people. I know we can’t switch sides. But if Michael wants to do his thing – fine. And if you two want to stop Bates or Ma’bus or whoever he is – also fine. Just leave me out of it.” Then I clicked on the TV – hoping they would finally get the hint.

Miriam walked over, rudely snatched the remote (yes, the remote that I had just recently learned how to use!), and then turned the TV back off. “Stern discipline awaits him who leaves the path, John! You’re not listening.”

“WHAT?” I roared. “WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO KNOW?”

“Don’t you see — Michael’s offensive is a SECRET attack! I wrote about this in my letter to La Papessa. In the end, after consulting the scriptures, she marked my letter signum eternus and locked it within the most secret of the Vatican’s vaults – where it been ever since.”

“The Biblioteca Apostolica?” Alan asked. When Miriam shook her head, he wondered, “Then your letter must be in The Archives of the Apos–?”

The Vatican Archives

“Alan,” Miriam interrupted. “It’s not in any location under the control of The Apostolic Penitentiary.

“Then what other secret vault could you be referring to?”

“I’m referring to the… the… Sacra Crypta.” Miriam whispered.

The Sacra Crypta

(Bingo! That’s what I was trying to remember when Joseph was considering Cardinal Marrollo for Confuto Penitentiary – a post that would give him access to the Sacra Crypta. Damn, it’s all starting to make sense now).

Alan’s eyes narrowed, “My dear Miriam, remember who you’re talking to – you don’t seriously expect me to believe that such a warehouse has remained outside of MY knowledge for lo these many centuries?”

“I’m not sure what to say, Alan, but The Sacra Crypta does indeed exist.”

“Then where is it located?” Alan snapped, clearly embarrassed.

“Beneath the church of Santo Stefano degli Ungheresi.

“Impossible. That church was pulled down in 1776.”

“True. But what else do you know about it?”

Santo Stefano was established by Charlemagne in the 9th century.” Alan recalled. “And I was in attendance when Pope Sylvester II later granted it to King Stephen I of Hungary back around 1000. In fact, that church was a key diplomatic link between Hungary and the Vatican for centuries.”

“OK. OK.” I tried to move the story along. “What happened next, Professor?”

“Hmm.” Alan tried to remember. “I moved away from Rome again around 1100, and by then the church fell into some disrepair. In 1776 Pope Pius VI pulled down Santo Stefano and built a new sacristy for St. Peter’s.”

“If you loved it so much, why didn’t you stop this?” I teased.

“John, as you might recall, we three were tied up dealing with Weishaupt at the time. Regardless, Saint Stephen’s church was torn down – so now all that remains are its Roman columns – which I convinced Pius, by letter, to place in the new sacristy of the St. Peter’s.”

“Alan, you’re correct on all of that.” Miriam agreed. “I know how much you loved that chapel. However, you overlooked one thing.”

“Oh, what’s that?” Alan asked, an eyebrow raised in disbelief.

“There was a secret cellar under Santo Stefano.”

“What?!? That’s impossible.” Alan was offended. “Why, I’ve been there a thousand times, how could I never have known about it? There wasn’t any such feature in the original construction.”

“She said it was a secret.” I laughed.

Alan’s look at me was pure ice, yet it was Miriam who spoke again. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. I was sworn to secrecy.”

“Who built this vault? Who kept you from telling us?”

“The answer to that question is one and the same.” Miriam began.

But it was I who filled in the blank, “Don’t tell me — Pope Joan?”


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28 – The Bible Code
Book II Table of Contents

2.16 The Rock of Peter

Book II: Chapter 16
July 9

Two days later, Miriam was still sitting beside Alan’s bed as he recovered – amazingly she was going so without any of her personal protective equipment on!

Meanwhile, I was having a beer on my back porch – Heavy Seas Loose Cannon – one of my favorite IPAs. Like so many other brews it was no longer being manufactured by the original brewery since Heavy Seas and pretty much every other microbrewery (and all other small businesses for that matter) had been destroyed by the forced lockdowns early on in the Covid plandemic. Luckily for me, being the alchemist that I was, I was easily able to replicate the recipe for all the beers I liked so I could brew them on my own. (Hadn’t you been wondering where I got all my beer from? Well now you know).

As for Alan, I knew he was out of the woods by now so I could relax a bit. And since I couldn’t just sit there and listen to Miriam whine (that woman is like a canary – she never shuts up), I planned to spend my time on the porch blasting away the sound of her yapping with a Cannon… or three.

Naturally, The Lord picked this as yet another occasion to send me a vision…


“Another day, another dollar.” I saw an unmasked Benedict say to himself as he watched a rather strange man leave his conservatory.

I recognized the other gentleman immediately – for there could only be one man bold enough to sport such garb: a flamboyant outfit highlighted by a Venetian mask over his face – like all other masks, it didn’t work against Covid, but at least Marrollo’s looked interesting.

I knew exactly who he was: Cardinalate Giovanni Marrollo — an eccentric but high-ranking member of the Vatican.

High-ranking indeed, for Marrollo was the current President of the Pontifical Commission, making him the de facto CFO of the Vatican). He was also one of the driving forces behind the messaging Pope Francis used to talk up the benefits of the United Nations Agenda 2030 and Great Reset one-world government plans.

“How many of those crazy masks does that man have?” Joseph wondered aloud once Marrollo was gone, “More importantly, can I still call him my friend?”

Knowing now why The Lord had given me this vision, I realized that the Pope had reason to be concerned — for although Marrollo had helped Joseph Ratzinger to get elected as Pope Benedict XVI, surely Joseph was not foolish enough to believe that Marrollo had done this merely out of the goodness of his heart.

The same could be said for the way Marrollo helped Joe to orchestrate his pseudo-retirement. And naturally everybody who was anybody knew that Marrollo was the man who had installed Pope Francis as the new figurehead so that Joe and Marrollo himself could wield the real power behind the scenes – and out of the public eye. It was a matter of course that Joe had therefore always repaid Marrollo by appointing him to a host of gaudy positions within Vatican City.

But was that enough to make them even in Marrollo’s mind?

I never thought so and clearly Joe was now wondering the same.

“I’ve taken more care of Marrollo than anyone else.” Joseph grumbled. “I made sure he has continued membership in The Congregation of Bishops, The Pontifical Council for Culture, and the Administration of the Apostolic See. But now he wants me to make him The Confuto Penitentiary – giving him power of not only The Apostolic Archives but also access to the Sacra Crypta?”

(When Joe mentioned that Crypta, I knew that it should have jogged another memory, but he kept yammering on and I couldn’t think straight… perhaps that 3rd beer had something to do with it?)  

“If I let Marrollo secure the Penitentiary,” Joe’s words interrupted my thoughts again, “Then, coupled with his other commissions, he would effectively control all of the Vatican’s wealth… and all of its secrets.” And his face went white at the implication. “No single person has ever held all that power.”

Joe continued his musings, “But alas, how can I refuse Marrollo? Ah, there is the question indeed. For he obviously believes he holds all the cards.”

And I watched as The Pope pondered a few moments more, before concluding, “Sadly for Marrollo, he is incorrect. Oh, I’ll let him continue to think he is pulling the strings… for now. After all, I just need another five months and then it’s all a moot point. And if he does turn out to be a traitor, I’ll be the first to remind him that he who digs a pit, often falls into it himself!”

And with that thought, the Pope smiled as he pressed the contact on his desk that communicated with his Secretary. “Ah, Georg, who is my next appointment?”

The pope’s personal secretary Reverend Monsignor Georg Ganswein had followed him into retirement – having no idea that the venture would end up requiring more hours of him than less! He replied wearily, “Your Excellency, that would be Miss Teri Abbracciavento, and she is waiting here to enter at your convenience.”

Pope Benedict’s eyes flickered wide only for a moment, before steeling himself for this next ordeal. Sitting higher in his chair, he advised, “You may show her in, Georg.”

(Well, well, it seems this vision just got a lot more interesting – I was about to witness the ol’ Joe getting another opportunity to deal with the devil’s mistress. Strange bed fellows indeed, eh?)


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17 – A Papal Interview
Book II Table of Contents