CHAPTER FIFTEEN
It was cold in Rome, with temperatures in the low forties, but the sun was shining, and it was Italy. Who cared whether it was cold, wet, hot, or snowy? They were in another country not chasing bad guys.
One thing the men were able to do was reach out to some old contacts, including Torro’s father, for recommendations on places to stay. With the group wanting to be near one another, their choices were limited to standard hotels where they would be spread out on different floors or renting an entire large home. And it would need to be very large.
They were in luck. Father Nicholas convinced an old friend to rent the group his massive villa. Thirty-two bedrooms, with more than thirty bathrooms, a chef’s kitchen, swimming pool, and so much more. It was on the outskirts of the city with spectacular views of the history below.
“It’s just perfect, Gaspar,” gushed Alexandra.
“I couldn’t agree more,” said Erin. “I cannot believe that you all did this all by yourselves. I mean, a 15 th -century villa as our home base! It’s wonderful, and the smell of the grapes. Oh! I’m in heaven.”
“You deserve this, baby,” smiled Nine.
They continued up the long, winding drive toward the villa, finally parking the vans in the designated spots. The other two vans pulled up behind them, and everyone stepped out, stretching and admiring their accommodations. One had nothing except luggage and would be left at the villa while they made their day travels.
A few moments later, a young man on a moped pulled up and stepped off the tiny motorbike.
“Good afternoon,” he smiled with a thick, heavy accent. He was handsome with curly black hair and dark brown eyes. His big smile telling all of them that he was used to women falling at his feet.
“Good afternoon,” said Ian. “Are you the man with the keys to the castle?”
The young man stared at him, cocking his head sideways. Then he laughed, nodding at him as he pulled the big old iron key from his pocket.
“Sorry, my English isn’t so good.” He let them into the villa and gave a quick tour of where everything was located. As he started to leave, he turned to the men and looked around the room at everyone.
“Is there something else?” asked Ghost.
“The ladies, they are all so beautiful. They belong to you?”
“They are our wives,” said Ghost, looking at the young man.
“Ah,” he said, nodding at the older man. “Then I leave you now. Signore? Arrivederci! Ciao bellas!”
“Bellas? What the hell?” growled Ian. “Just when I thought I wouldn’t have to kill anyone on this trip.”
“Ian, behave,” frowned Faith.
“Choose your room, drop your bags, and get ready to meet the pope. And watch your fucking language. It’s the pope,” said Gaspar. The men all raised their brows at him, shaking their heads.
“Gaspar, really?” said Alexandra.
“Oh. Sorry. Just watch your language. No telling what Mama has in store for us once we get there.”
“Does she really know the pope?” asked Tailor.
“She seems to have known every single one since 1951,” frowned Gaspar. “I don’t know how, and honestly, I’m not sure I want to know how. It all terrifies me.” Gaspar noted the grin on his brother Gabriel’s face, watching as he and his wife took their choice of room. He wondered if it wasn’t his father who had the connection to the pope, not his mother. In the end, it didn’t matter.
All set in their rooms, they were dressed appropriately to meet the head of the most powerful church in the world. Able to rent two large tourist vans, holding thirty people each, they loaded up and made their way from the outskirts of the city into the intense and chaotic Roman traffic.
“I hate driving here,” frowned Baptiste. “Maybe we should have hired drivers.”
“No,” said Nine. “We don’t want strangers in control of where we’re going.”
They drove past historic monuments, churches, and parks. Trevi Fountain, Pantheon, Piazza Navona, and then crossed the Tiber. As they approached the gates that they were directed to, the men all took note of the number of Swiss Guards in attendance. They might look like they were dressed for a parade, but they were no joke.
Trained as well as most country’s Special Forces, they protected Vatican City, all of its occupants, monuments, churches, and wealth.
“Hello,” said Baptiste. “We have an appointment to visit with the pope. My name is…”
“Mr. Robicheaux,” said the man very clearly. “And the vehicle behind you as well. If you’ll just hand the guards your passports, we’ll double-check all the names.”
Baptiste nodded, handing the passports through the windows as Raphael did the same in the vehicle behind him. Twenty minutes later, the guard gave them the all-clear and directed them to a group of parking spaces. When they opened the doors to get out, a dozen guards were ready to meet them.
“Welcome to Vatican City,” said one of the men. “My name is Captain Henri Pietro. I will be taking you to meet with His Holiness.”
“Thank you,” said Gaspar. “Is there anything we should know before meeting him? Should we shake his hand? Should we touch him or not? Does he speak English?” The man smiled at him, nodding.
“Yes, he speaks English quite well. If he reaches out his hand, you will take it, and should you wish to, you may kiss his ring. You are not required to do so. In fact, his Holiness is uncomfortable with it. He sees himself as just another man.”
“But he’s not,” said Nine. Captain Pietro looked at him. “No offense, but he’s not just another man. He is as powerful, if not more so, than any world leader.”
“He might disagree with that,” smiled the man leading them into one of the vast buildings. It was simply breathtaking. The marble floors, sculptures, paintings, and ceilings couldn’t be absorbed in a million years. It would take much, much longer to appreciate the beauty of what they were being exposed to.
Led into a large room with chairs, they were instructed to take a seat, and the captain would return shortly. They all stared at their surroundings in absolute awe of the privilege they’d been given. A few moments later, the door opened once again, and a feeble, small man walked in, leaning on his cane. The entire group stood, and he shook his head.
“Please do not stand,” he smiled. “I do not intend to. We’re all tired and could use a rest.” The men and women chuckled, nodding at the elderly man.
“Your Holiness, we are honored that you’ve given us this privilege,” said Ian. The old man smiled at him, then looked at the faces.
“Such beautiful men and women,” he smiled. “Men and women who have been the heroes of many nations. Unseen. Unheard. Unheralded.”
“Sir,” started Gaspar. He held up his hands, shaking his head.
“I know of what you’ve done for this planet,” he said quietly. “I have known for many years as did my predecessor and his predecessor and his. I cannot explain to you how we knew, but rest assured, we are aware of the contributions you have made in an attempt for peace.”
“Your Holiness, we are soldiers,” said Ghost. “We carried weapons, and weapons often required killing.”
“I understand,” he nodded. “In service to others, sometimes, the sacrifice of life is necessary. You will be forgiven for that when your time comes. You carry no burden in my mind.”
“Excuse me, Your Holiness. My name is Marie.”
“Yes. Marie Robicheaux Lock. Eldest daughter of Matthew and Irene Robicheaux,” he nodded.
“Y-yes,” she whispered. “I was just curious how you know my parents. How they knew your predecessors. This seems unfathomable.”
“Does it?” he chuckled. “Does it seem strange that two of the most devoted, loving, and giving people should have the ear of the men in charge of their faith? I wish more of my clergy brethren would have those connections. If I were a younger man, I would travel this earth and meet more people like your parents, although I strongly suspect that there are few like them.”
“I believe you are correct, sir,” smirked Gaspar.
“Gaspar Robicheaux. The oldest,” he laughed. “How is that zoo coming along?”
“Well, sir, I do believe my mother brought on two grizzly bears as we were departing. I think it’s building up just fine.”
“Wonderful. That is wonderful,” he said, chuckling to himself. “If you will indulge me, I wish to give you each a gift. From me to you.” The Swiss Guards handed out the small velvet cases. Inside each one was a rosary.
“This is unnecessary, sir,” said Ian.
“Perhaps. I have blessed each myself. I will continue to pray for your safekeeping. That your bravery and good deeds keep the world safe, and that others will follow in your footsteps. And one day, perhaps in my lifetime, perhaps not, the world will find a way to have peace without violence. For now, I am grateful for men like you and those who guard my safety every day.”
Captain Pietro and the other guards offered their arms to the women in the group, walking them up to the pope one-by-one. They lowered their heads as he prayed over them, then his hands touched their foreheads, making the sign of the cross. When they were seated, the men were asked to do the same.
As he neared Gabriel, he forced him to look into his eyes, and he smiled at him, chuckling under his breath. Gabriel offered him a big smile in return as he blessed him. The last in line was Trak. He bent lower so that the elderly man could reach his head, as all the others had done. Slowly, he lifted Trak’s chin to stare at him.
“Such a warrior the world has never known,” he whispered.
When he was done, he left the room without a word, and the captain walked them out of the building. He gave them a brief tour of Vatican City and then walked them back to their vehicles.
“It’s been a great honor to meet you all,” he said. He handed a card to Nine and Gaspar. “If you find yourself in need of anything while you are in Italy, please call me. It would be a great privilege to help you.”
“Do you know why we were brought here?” asked Gaspar. “I mean, I know my mother arranged this, but why?”
“Your mother knew of this, Mr. Robicheaux, but it was His Holiness who requested to meet you. All world leaders know your reputations. The pope is no different. He wanted to give you all peace. So that you might know that whatever might be keeping you up at night is forgiven.”
“I can’t believe this,” whispered Nine.
“He did this favor for me once,” said the captain. “I was Special Forces. SOG, like your teammate Noah Anders. I was forgiven, and the freedom I felt was unlike anything before.”
“You’ve been so gracious,” said Erin. “Thank you for allowing us to be here.”
“It was my greatest honor. Enjoy Italy, and I might suggest you feed those two,” he smiled, pointing to Alec and Tailor. “They’ve been eating granola bars through the entire tour.”
“Tailor! Alec!” chastised Erin.
“What? We were hungry, Erin. Sorry, captain,” frowned Tailor.
“Do not be sorry,” he laughed. “The men and I were in awe of you all. Safe travels, my friends.”
The team loaded into the vans and drove silently through the streets back toward the villa. When they arrived, they entered to find a host of chefs preparing their evening meal.
“Who are you?” asked Gaspar suspiciously.
“We were sent by Father Nicholas, but rest assured, we belong here at the villa,” smiled the man. “We are to prepare your meals while staying in the villa. Please relax on the veranda, and we will let you know when it’s ready.”
Changing out of their suits and ties, they put casual clothing on and sat outside by the open fire pits. No one said a word, quiet and in awe of what their first day had brought them all.
Peace.