Day Of Confession

'Over there.' He was indicating the first of three large trash receptacles, each twenty yards apart.

Smoke was now drifting out from every open window and doorway. And everywhere people rushed and shoved to get out, afraid, yelling, uncertain.

Taking the matchbooks between oily fingers, Da

'Slow it up,' he said as they neared the first trash container. Elena did. Da

'Okay.'

They moved on to the second and did the same. And then again at the third.

Behind them the first cigarette burned down to the match pack. With a tiny whoosh it ignited, and, in turn, set fire to the oil-and-rum rag, setting the mess of collected refuse aflame.

'Back inside,' Da

Elena wheeled the chair toward the nearest open doorway, where mountains of people continued to pour out with the smoke that was now heavier than ever.

They could see a half dozen helmeted, ax-carrying and rubber-jacketed vigili del fuoco - Vatican firemen – ru

Now they were at the doorway.

'Scusi! Scusi!' Elena yelled at the crowd, forcing the wheelchair into their midst. Miraculously, enough of them moved out of the way for her to push through. And then they were inside. Pushing along an interior hallway, moving with a river of people going that way, Elena saw Father Daniel pull the cell phone from his shirt pocket and dial.

'Harry – where are you?'

'Top of the hill. Number two is burning.'

Harry was moving quickly through a heavy growth of conifers toward the northwest corner of the gardens, trying not to think that it was working and that only three of them were doing it. Pla

Fifty yards behind him he could see the towers of Vatican Radio. To his right, another fifty yards downhill, heavy smoke began to billow from behind a high hedge, where he had just been. Beyond that he could already see the smoke from his first fire rising slowly.

'No wind, Da

'You should be near the shut-off valves.'

'Right.'

Harry pushed through an opening in a protective hedge to find the plumber's Christmas tree, the low twist of piping that came up from underground and held the control valves for what appeared to be the main water shut-off. But, according to Da

'I'm on top of them. Twin valves, one opposite the other.'

Elena tilted Da

'How badly rusted?' Da

'Can't tell.' Harry's voice crackled through the phone.

Elena stopped at the bottom of the stairs and opened her own camera case. Coughing, wiping her tearing eyes, she took out two dampened handkerchiefs and spread them open. Pulling one over Da

'Harry-' Da

'First one's okay. – The second's-'

'Shut it down now!'

'As soon as I can, Da

Harry grimaced, the second of the two wheels was rusted, and it took everything he had. Finally it gave all too fast, and he pitched sideways against the Christmas tree, ripping the skin from his knuckles and tossing the phone a dozen feet away.

'Shit.'

Their bandanas making them look like Old West bandits, Elena turned Da

'Father,' she said, alarmed.

Da

'Harry-'

'Harry-'

'What?-'

Harry was bent over, recovering the tossed phone and at the same time sucking on his bloody knuckle.

'What's wrong?'

'The fucking water's off, okay?'

Da

For the first time they were alone, the crowd, the rush, the panic moving in the opposite direction.

'I'm going for fire three. Are you out of there?' Harry's voice came through the phone.

'Two more stops.'

'Hurry the hell up.'

'The Swiss Guards are outside in force.'

'Forget the last two stops.'

'We do, you'll have Farel and the Swiss Guards all over you.'

'Then stop talking and do it.'

'Harry.' Da

'Eaton is somewhere here. Adria

'How the hell did-?'

'I don't know.'

'Jesus Christ, Da

150

'It's a diversion.' Thomas Kind stood on the roadway just below the tower, watching the smoke from the Vatican museums billow up, talking into the two-way radio in his hand. In the distance he could hear the scream of emergency vehicles en route from various Rome City locations.

'What will you do?' Farel's voice came back at him.

'My plans have not changed. Nor should yours either.' Suddenly Thomas Kind clicked off, and turned back for the tower.

Hercules crouched in his perch, tying the last of the heavy knots in the snout of his climbing rope, and watched Thomas Kind come back up the pathway toward the tower, radio in hand, talking into it as he came. Below, he saw the black suits on the far side of the hedge.

Hercules waited for Thomas Kind to pass the tower. Then, crutches tied together by a short length of rope and tossed over his shoulder, he moved up on the wall, hesitated briefly, and whirled a length of rope with its heavily knotted snout overhead. Standing up fully, balancing almost on air, he flung the rope up and over the roof.

The knotted end settled around a heavy iron railing, then fell back. As the rope went slack Hercules glanced around once more. In the distance he could see the smoke from Vatican buildings, and over the hill beyond the trees in front of him, still more smoke rising.