Chapter 10: Rome, March 2025

"Ahh"

I sighed in relief when I ejaculated during my intercourse with the beautiful local talent, Fabiana.

I rolled over to the side of the bed and stared into the ceiling. It had been a while since I had sex, as my assignment with the templars had been keeping me busy. But since today was my 40th birthday, I have decided to treat myself to a long session. A pill of Viagra, intercourse with three beautiful woman, drinks, and massages. Could have been worse.

I had a moment of angst. Didn't the prostitute look noticeably young?

"Hey, Fabiana. How old are you?" I asked.

"I am 22, sir," Fabiana responded.

I decided to trust her. I had enough on my mind to worry about the age and motivations of prostitutes. "Can you please bring me a bourbon and coke and then give me a hip massage?" I asked and handed Fabiana a stash of 100 Euro banknotes.

"Yes, sir. I'll be right back." Fabiana replied.

I closed my eyes and relaxed. Cold drinks, relaxing massages and having sex with beautiful women. There were worse things in life.

***

When I opened my eyes, I was up for a rude awakening. Instead of meeting the beautiful Fabiana bringing me a cold drink, I was face-to-face with the Yehuda Brothers.

"Cover yourself." Szymon snarked and threw a towel to cover my crotch.

I sighed, bound the towel around my crotch and got up.

"So, this is how you celebrate your birthday? Indulging in the sin of the flesh!" Ben mocked me.

"Yes. What would you have me do?" I argued back.

"Well, as a man of God, I'd prefer if you prayed and sought spiritual enlightenment," Ben replied.

"Very funny. Why did you come?" I asked.

Szymon handed me a tablet and spoke. "There is going to be a terrorist attack against Pope Septimus today. The Salafist leader Salman Bin Saladin is not happy with the Pope's effort to reconcile religious differences."

"Why do I give a shit? I don't even like the man." I replied.

"Because this can end in several ways. In the best of worlds, you'll stop the attack and your movement will gain Papal recognition. If the attack succeeds, we'll experience deteriorating relations between Muslims and Catholics. That is also a positive outcome for our cause. What we cannot accept is that you are here copulating with prostitutes instead of doing your duty. I am sure the Catholic world wouldn't appreciate if that news spread. They might even think you are complicit in the attack." Ben threatened.

"So, what do you want me to do?" I asked.

"The attack will take place during the 6PM Palm Sunday mass in the Vatican. That gives you six hours. Find James and Michael and brief them on the situation. They are waiting for you in Santa Maria Church." Szymon replied.

'Clink'! Our conversation was interrupted when Fabiana dropped the glasses in shock over seeing the Yehuda Brothers.

"Ih. Who are you guys?" Fabiana exclaimed.

Szymon studied Fabiana lustfully and replied. "We are business partners of Martin. Unfortunately, he has some urgent business to attend to, but I am happy to fill his slot. I assume he has already paid."

Fabiana looked at me, I nodded, and she replied to Szymon. "Of course, sir. Let me have a shower, and I'll inform my colleagues about the changed arrangements."

I left the brothel, feeling very annoyed. It was typical for religious people to first scold people and then act the same way themselves. Besides, what a tight-arse Szimon was, a typical Jew!

***

I found Michael and James kneeling in front of a statue of the Virgin Mary. What a waste of time religion was, kneeling in front of an icon when there were things to do. But I had to play along with the charade most days. I was, after all, the grandmaster of the Knights Templar order, and as such, I needed to act like a devout Catholic. It didn't matter that the unholy alliance between the World Bank and the Mossad funded us.

"Michael, James. We need to go!" I said.

Michael turned around and spoke. "Greetings Grandmaster Al-Sham. Where have you been?"

I wasn't about to tell them the truth, so instead, I replied. "I have been to a meeting with our Jewish friends. There will be an attack against the Pope today. We need to prevent the attack to gain Papal favour."

James gave me a worried expression and spoke. "Martin, I am worried about you. You speak too much with the Jews. The traitors who murdered our saviour Jesus Christ."

I thought of telling James that I'd better talk to the people who funded our operations, but instead, I replied. "Don't blame the Jews for the death of Jesus. His death and resurrection were what proved his divinity to humankind."

"Amen! Glory to Christ, Grandmaster Al-Sham!" James replied.

'Damn, if we could stop wasting time with these empty bullshit sentences.' I thought. But instead, I replied. "Amen! Glory to Christ, Brother James!"

To my relief, Michael got to the point. "So, this supposed attack. What do we know about it?"

"The Yehuda Brothers believes that terrorists sponsored by Salman Bin Saladin will attack the Pope tonight. The attack will take place during the Palm Sunday mass. The lives of the Pope and hundreds of others are at risk. We need to find and stop the terrorists." I stated.

James and Michael looked at each other. They didn't seem surprised over my revelation. Had the Yehuda Brothers already briefed them, or did they have other means of finding out? "Martin, I don't think saving the life of Pope Septimus is in the best interest of our order," Michael said.

Before I had the time to reply, Rangda spoke inside my head. "Michael is correct. What good is a pacifist seeking understanding and reconciliation, to a group of warrior monks? Letting him die opens more opportunities for you."

"Stop spying on me, goddammit" I shouted.

Michael and James stared at me in disbelief. Damn, I had to stop arguing with Rangda when other people were around. I cleared my throat and spoke. "I have been thinking about the same thing. But what you are suggesting is treason, and many innocents will die."

"Yes, but they will be martyrs who died in the battle against our devil-worshipping Muslim enemies."

I sighed. I wasn't going to argue with my subordinates when they spoke my words. Pope Septimus needed to go, and the collateral damage was a necessary sacrifice. "Okay, Michael. What do you suggest?"

"Cardinal Jose Santamaria won't be attending tonight's mass. We will plant evidence that he was conspiring against the Holy See. That will destroy him and discredit every Catholic, who suggests peace with the Muslims." Michael replied.

"I am sure you have something in mind for me to do?" I asked sarcastically.

Michael bent a knee and bowed to me with fake humility. "I would never dream of commanding you, Grandmaster Al-Sham. The only ones who can command you are the Pope and God." Michael said.

I shook my head and struggled to contain my irritation. Bloody sycophants. "Okay, what would you suggest that I ask for God's input on?" I replied.

"I'd suggest that you ask whether you should delay Cardinal Paul Montebianco from attending mass so that he doesn't die a martyr's death tonight." Michael replied.

I thought about Michael's suggestion. Cardinal Montebianco was a man with a fervent militant zeal. He would be the perfect replacement to further the Templars reach and influence in the Catholic world. "God has spoken. He agrees to the wisdom in your words."

"Excellent. Godspeed to you Grandmaster. Towards a better future for the Catholic Church. Amen!" Michael said.

"Amen!" I replied and rushed off. I needed to get to Cardinal Montebianco in time.

***

"Welcome to my humble abode, Grandmaster Al-Sham." Cardinal Paul Montebianco greeted me as I entered Palazzo Farnese.

The Cardinal had acquired the luxurious Renaissance palace from the French Government a few years earlier. It was anything but humble. But since religion was big business, it made sense that Cardinal Montebianco was wealthy

"Thank you, Cardinal. I need to discuss something with you in private." I said.

"I am sorry, Grandmaster. But I need to attend the Palm Sunday evening mass, and so should you." Paul Montebianco replied.

I froze for a second. I needed to come up with something that would stop Cardinal Montebianco from dying in the upcoming terrorist attack. But I couldn't reveal my knowledge about the attack. I didn't know whether Paul would be ruthless enough to let the attack take place to elevate his own position.

"The Cardinal yearns for your member. Use that to your advantage." Rangda whispered in the back of my head. This time, I controlled my impulse to argue back.

"Please, Paul. Hear me out. There is a personal matter that is tormenting me. I feel that you are the only one in the Vatican that would understand what I am going through." I said and stroked the Cardinal sensually over his right shoulder.

"Very well. Please come with me for some wine in my private quarters. I hope that the pope won't notice our absence." Paul replied.

Paul led the way, to his private quarters of the residence, and I walked behind him nervously. I needed to find a way to delay him, but I was definitely not going to fuck a man.

Paul closed the door behind him and poured us two glasses of red wine.

"I know why you are here, Martin," Paul said.

"Yes, Cardinal Montebianco. I have a burden that is weakening my spirit. A forbidden carnal desire." I replied.

"Bah!" Paul exclaimed.

"Huh?" I asked.

"You are here to seduce me, in the hope that you can blackmail me if I become the new pope. Everyone knows that Pope Septimus days are counted, and you are hedging your bets. But let me tell you something. You got nothing on me. Homosexuality is very prevalent among the clergy. Who else would commit to not getting married and not fathering children for the sake of a job?" Paul ranted.

"I didn't come to blackmail you. I came to save you." I replied.

"Save me from what? How could a paid killer save me from my own desires? You are a tool to get rid of undesirables while I focus on higher goals." Paul ranted.

"Very well. If that's how you feel, I guess I'll be leaving." I said and got up.

"Good. For future reference. Don't fuck female prostitutes' hours before you confess your 'homosexuality' to your Cardinal. And stop involving yourself with the Mossad. They don't share the goals of the Catholic Church." Paul shouted.

I walked off without saying a word. I realised that I would have to deal with Paul Montebianco at some stage, but it was unwise to act now.

I called James. "James, we have a problem. Cardinal Montebianco will attend the mass."

After a few seconds of silence, James replied. "I see, well it seems we'll have to save the pope, after all. Meet us at St Peters Square."

***

I looked down towards St Peters Square from the attic of one of the nearby buildings. I had got to the attic in time and stopped the Middle Eastern sniper who had been overlooking the square. I exhaled. Finding and killing the man had been easy. I had used my Zetan monocle to detect him. Once I knew where he was, it was easy to sneak up on him and slit his throat.

I exhaled. Murdering people was always stressful. At least I could tell myself that it was necessary, and no innocents got harmed this time. I considered whether I should report the occurrence to the police of if should clean up the crime scene and disappear. While I wanted to get the credit for saving the pope's life, there was a risk that the police would charge me with murder. Because my role with templars didn't give me the authority to murder people.

I saw the Papal procession walking across the square. Cardinal Montebianco was on the pope's right-hand side. For a second I thought of picking up the sniper rifle and silence him. I decided against it. It was too conspicuous. Instead, I decided to wipe the crime scene of evidence, get back to my apartment and get dressed for the mass.

I was about to leave when I heard screeching tires from a truck, heading towards the procession. So that was how the Muslims had planned the attack? Driving a truck against the onerous roadblocks and then shoot the pope during the confusion.

The truck drove straight into the roadblock and came to a screeching halt. 'A failed terrorist attack, nothing to write about.' I thought for a second. Then I saw a massive explosion, and despite being on the 12th floor, I had to duck for cover to avoid getting hit by shrapnel. As I got back on my feet, I studied the carnage below. The entire square was full of dead and wounded people. With the help of my Zetan Monocle, I concluded that both Pope Septimus and Cardinal Montebianco was among the fatalities.

I set my monocle to 'avoid confrontation', and I hurried back to my apartment.

***

"You made some interesting choices!" Ben Yehuda said mockingly and passed me the tablet with today's news headline. It read 'Pope Septimus among hundreds of fatalities in a Salafist terrorist attack in Rome.'

"Was there any way I could have stopped this?" I asked

"Yes. My monocle predicted several outcomes where you would stop the attack and save the day." Ben replied.

"Well, I didn't have the information that you had. If I had known earlier things could have ended differently." I replied.

"Yes, but to be honest, I am not sure you wanted things to happen in any other way," Ben replied.

"So, what happens now?" I asked.

Szymon sighed. "It's difficult to predict, Martin. In all our simulations, either Pope Septimus or Cardinal Montebianco survived the attack. But no forecast is a 100 per cent accurate I am afraid. Regardless, we are reassigning you. We can't see a scenario where the Mossad controls the Catholic Church anymore." Szymon said.

"I see, where would you have me assigned?" I asked.

"I don't give a shit. Just go on a holiday without causing any massacres or chaos. And don't let the booze or hookers kill you. We'll find you when we need you. Can you do that?" Ben screamed at me.

I nodded, but I didn't reply. I walked towards the door. Once I had opened the door, I turned around spoke. "What happened to James and Michael?" I asked.

"They are in the hospital. They survived, but not thanks to you. Now get the fuck out of here, Al-Sham!" Ben exclaimed.

I turned around without saying anything. Death and destruction seemed to follow me across the globe. Both my actions and my inactions caused terrible consequences wherever I went. Was I cursed, and what should I do with my life?