'Who the hell is Barnes?'

'Donald Barnes, the American who was killed yesterday in Saint Patrick's Well. Ring a bell?'

'Yesterday? I swear I had nothing to do with that. That wouldn't make sense. The police presence in Orvieto was already too high. Why would I want to bring more?'

It was an interesting question, one that Payne wanted to examine at length. However, he knew the Milanese police were probably on their way, meaning if he didn't hustle, he wouldn't have a chance to get to the information he really cared about.

'So, who do you work for? And don't say the CIA, because I know know that's bullshit!' that's bullshit!'

Manzak remained silent, so Payne slammed his elbow into the back of his head. It was his way of helping him reconsider. 'Don't make me ask you again! Who do you work for?'

'I'll never tell,' he screamed in Italian. 'Ever!'

Payne grinned in victory, even though he had no idea what he'd shouted. The truth was, his choice of language revealed a lot. 'So, is that your native tongue? It sure sounded natural to me.'

Manzak realized his mistake and tried to wriggle free. Payne stifled his movement by slamming his face into the ground with another blow from his elbow.

'I'm getting bored with this, Dick. I think it's time for you to make a decision that's gonna affect our session. Is it time for the truth or the twig? You decide.'

Once again Manzak refused to speak, and in Payne's mind, that that was the wrong answer. Grabbing the back of his head, he slammed it into the ground repeatedly, accenting every word with violence. 'The... truth... or... the... twig?' was the wrong answer. Grabbing the back of his head, he slammed it into the ground repeatedly, accenting every word with violence. 'The... truth... or... the... twig?'

Blood gushed from Manzak's forehead, yet Payne felt no pity for him. He'd tried to kill Jones and Maria with a car bomb and would've murdered Payne as well. So in his mind, he wasn't doing anything immoral. 'What's it gonna be, Dick? Tell me now! Who are you working for?'

'I don't care what you do. I won't tell!'

Payne shook his head. 'You dumb bastard. This could've been so so easy. All you had to do was answer my questions, and I would've let you go. But not now. Now you have to suffer.' easy. All you had to do was answer my questions, and I would've let you go. But not now. Now you have to suffer.'

'No!' he shouted back. 'It is you you that will suffer when you ultimately discover the truth! I promise you, my pain will be temporary. But that will suffer when you ultimately discover the truth! I promise you, my pain will be temporary. But yours yours will last forever.' will last forever.'

Payne considered his words for a moment. Then showed him what he could do with a stick.

When Payne climbed into the chopper, he looked like a butcher at the end of a long shift. Blood covered his hands and face and leaked from the bulge in his shirt pocket. Jones said nothing, focusing his attention on the nearby power lines and the flashing lights that filled the ground below. Eventually, once they were out of danger, Jones turned toward Payne. 'Stick trick?'

'Yeah,' he answered into the chopper's headset. 'Molotov Cockpit?'

Jones laughed. 'How could you tell?'

'You're missing a shirt.'

'Very observant of you... Speaking of shirts, what's in your pocket?'

Payne shrugged. 'Souvenirs.'

'Of what?'

'Their identities. Manzak wouldn't tell me his name, so I borrowed some fingers.'

'You mean the stick trick didn't work?'

'Actually, it worked too too well. The bastard kept passing out on me.' well. The bastard kept passing out on me.'

'That's been known to happen... So, how'd you leave him?'

'Just like Otto.'

'Otto? Who's Otto?'

'Oh, that was Buckner's real real name. He was Manzak's bodyguard.' name. He was Manzak's bodyguard.'

'Buckner was his bodyguard?'

Payne nodded. 'And get this, he spoke with a German accent.'

'Otto spoke? spoke? I didn't know he could.' I didn't know he could.'

'Well, he can't anymore.'

Jones smiled. 'OK, funny man, any suggestions on where to go next?'

'What are our choices?'

He checked the fuel gauge. 'I'd say Switzerland or possibly Austria. We can't risk farther.'

Payne clicked the button on his headset and talked to Boyd in the chopper's backseat. 'Hey Doc, any suggestions on where we should land?'

Boyd discussed things with Maria for several seconds before answering. 'There's a lovely research facility in Kusendorf that might be able to aid our cause.'

Payne glanced at Jones. 'What do you think?'

'What do I think? I think we'd be crazy to fly right there. The odds are pretty good we're being tracked by radar, and I can't risk flying underneath it.'

'So what do you suggest?'

A smile crossed Jones's lips. 'Don't worry. As long as we have some money and a few credit cards, I'm confident they'll never find us.'

The squadron of black helicopters hovered over the Bern-Belpmoos Airport (six miles southeast of Bern, Switzerland's capital city), searching for their sister chopper. When one of the pilots spotted it at the far end of the airfield, he ordered the tower to redirect all current air traffic to other Swiss facilities. Planes, he informed them, shouldn't be landing in a crime scene.

A dozen men, each dressed in military fatigues and carrying automatic weapons, circled the craft, then stormed the chopper, searching the cockpit, backseat, and rear hatch for any available clues. Nothing turned up except a cold engine, which meant it had been on the ground for at least twenty minutes. Maybe more.

The team leader spoke into his headset. 'The bird is clear. Starting ground surveillance.'

'Be careful,' the command post warned. 'These men are clever and quite dangerous. Double-check all leads, then radio back to me. Is that understood?'

'Don't worry, sir. We'll find them or die trying.'

After figuring out a way to get to Switzerland, Payne and Jones realized they had a decision to make, one that was more important than where they were going to spend the night. The sole reason they were in this mess was their agreement with Manzak and Buckner. Now that they were dead, Payne and Jones had to decide if they wanted to stay involved.

'What do you think?' Payne asked. 'Have we completed our end of the deal?'

'Technically, I'd say yes. We found Boyd and delivered him to Manzak, just like we agreed. Of course, you did kill Manzak during the exchange.'

'Hey! Don't pin this all on me. You blew up their chopper. Then stole another.'

'Yeah, but only after after they trashed our Ferrari. Come on, someone had to pay for that.' they trashed our Ferrari. Come on, someone had to pay for that.'

Payne didn't want to think about the car because his gut told him he he was going to pay for it. 'So what do you think?' Payne asked again. 'Should we stay involved with this mess?' was going to pay for it. 'So what do you think?' Payne asked again. 'Should we stay involved with this mess?'

'I think we better. At least until we know who's running things and why they wanted us involved. I mean, if we don't, we're gonna have to watch our backs for a very long time.'

46

Kusendorf, Switzerland (eighty-two miles southeast of Bern)

Clinging to the southern slopes of the Lepontine Alps, Kusendorf is a village of nearly 2,000 people in Ticino, the southernmost canton (or state) in Switzerland. Known primarily for its scenic views and local brand of Swiss cheese, Kusendorf is also the home of the Ulster Archives, one of the finest private collections of rare documents in the world.

The manuscripts themselves are housed in a well-guarded chalet. Built as a temporary haven for Austrian philanthropist Conrad Ulster, it eventually became his permanent home. During the early 1930s, Ulster, an avid collector of rare artifacts, sensed the political instability in his country and realized there was a good chance that his prized library would be seized by the Nazis. To protect himself and his books, he smuggled his collection across the Swiss border in railcars, hidden under thin layers of lignite, a low-quality brown coal, and dropped from public view until after World War II. He eventually died in 1964 but expressed his utmost thanks to the people of Switzerland by donating his estate to his adopted hometown of Kusendorf provided that they keep his collection intact and accessible to the world's finest academic minds.

Payne wasn't sure if his ragtag group of fugitives would qualify under those high standards, but they were planning to find out the instant the facility opened in the morning. While they waited, he booked a large suite at a local lodge and bribed the night manager to open the lobby store so they could get a fresh set of clothes and something to eat. They took an hour to get cleaned up, then met in the main room of their suite to discuss Boyd's affiliation with the CIA.

Boyd said, 'I realize I don't possess the suave looks of a spy. But there's no need to. The fact is I've spent the better part of three decades working at Dover as a professor. The only time I do otherwise is when I'm asked to complete a task. Sometimes it's something simple like smuggling documents out of a country. Other times it's more complicated like convincing a diplomat to defect. The truth is, I never know what it's going to be until I'm notified.'

Payne asked, 'And what were you told in this case?'

'That's the amazing thing this isn't isn't a case. This was strictly an academic dig. Or at least it was supposed to be. This had nothing to do with a CIA agenda. Absolutely nothing.' a case. This was strictly an academic dig. Or at least it was supposed to be. This had nothing to do with a CIA agenda. Absolutely nothing.'

Payne grimaced. 'See, that's where I'm having a problem. Unless I'm mistaken, most academic digs don't involve helicopters, guns, and exploding buses. Right?'

Boyd was about to explain the legend of the Catacombs when he realized he could do better. Instead of dealing in myths and theories, he could use Maria's video as the ultimate visual aid. Payne and Jones watched, speechless, as the tape documented the grandeur of the Catacombs and the bronze casing of the Tiberius scroll. Boyd chirped in whenever he felt it was necessary, but the truth was they barely listened to him, for the details on the screen were more than enough to convince them that Boyd and Maria weren't a modern-day Bonnie and Clyde.

When the video ended, Jones focused his attention on Boyd. 'Back in Milan you said something about your discovery killing a religion killing a religion. What were you talking about? I didn't see anything on this tape that would have a negative effect on the Church.'

Boyd shook his head. 'The last object you saw the bronze cylinder we found contained a papyrus scroll with a very significant message. A message that casts doubt over the entire world of Christianity. If made public, people would simply stop believing. Churches would crumble. Coffers would turn to dust. In a word, ruin ruin both spiritual and financial.' both spiritual and financial.'

Jones glanced at Maria, then back at Boyd. 'That seems a bit dramatic, doesn't it? I mean, I'm not the most religious guy in the world, but even if I was, I certainly don't think an ancient piece of paper would have that much effect on my beliefs. If any at all.'

'Well,' Boyd sneered, 'we'll have to see about that. You wait right there, and I shall fetch the document that will make you feel the fool.'

Maria kept quiet until Boyd left the room. Then she apologized for Boyd's tone. 'Don't take that personally. I just think it's his way to blow off steam... Besides, the fact is you should should have some doubts about this. I know I did even about the Catacombs themselves. Of course, there's nothing like some visual proof to contradict a childhood of lectures.' have some doubts about this. I know I did even about the Catacombs themselves. Of course, there's nothing like some visual proof to contradict a childhood of lectures.'

Jones smiled. 'A childhood? Just how long have you known Dr Boyd?'

'Oh, not his his lectures. My father's. He's always been a disbeliever when it came to the Catacombs. And trust me, his words carry more weight than most. He's something of an expert.' lectures. My father's. He's always been a disbeliever when it came to the Catacombs. And trust me, his words carry more weight than most. He's something of an expert.'

There was something about the way she said 'expert' that made Jones flash back to their conversation in Milan. Maria Magdalena Pelati. Her name was Pelati, and her father was an expert on Orvieto. Suddenly, Jones realized that wasn't a coincidence.

'Maria,' he stuttered, 'is your father's name Benito?'

'Yes,' she said, confused. 'How did you know?'

Jones rubbed his eyes. 'Holy shit! You're his his daughter. Benito Pelati's daughter!' daughter. Benito Pelati's daughter!'

Payne winced. 'What? Why didn't you tell us you were his his daughter?' daughter?'

'I didn't know you knew who he he was. Besides, what does he have to do with anything?' was. Besides, what does he have to do with anything?'

Payne looked at her in disbelief. 'You can't be that naive. He has everything to do with this. He's the goddamned godfather of Orvieto! He runs the whole town.'

Boyd heard the commotion and emerged from the other room. 'People, what is it?'

Payne answered. 'We just found out who she is. She's Benito Pelati's daughter.'

'And that upsets you? Why would that upset you?'

Payne gaped at his response. 'You gotta be kidding me! Her father runs runs Orvieto. He Orvieto. He controls controls its security. You don't think that's relevant?' He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. 'Did it ever occur to you that the soldiers who shot at you in Orvieto might've been working for Benito? That maybe they shot at you because they didn't want you digging there?' its security. You don't think that's relevant?' He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. 'Did it ever occur to you that the soldiers who shot at you in Orvieto might've been working for Benito? That maybe they shot at you because they didn't want you digging there?'

'Nonsense,' Boyd scoffed. 'His office gave us permission to dig there in the first place. You can't start digging without the appropriate paperwork. If you did, you'd be arrested on the spot.'

Permission? They had permission? That didn't make sense to Payne. If Benito Pelati was trying to protect his reputation like Frankie claimed, then why would he allow anyone to dig in Orvieto? And of all the archaeologists in the world, why his daughter? Wouldn't he look even more foolish if his own child his own female female child showed him up in the public eye? child showed him up in the public eye?

Then again, maybe she was selected because she was a relative. Maybe Benito knew the Catacombs were there all along and figured if Maria made the discovery then he could bask in her spotlight. Benito could tell the media that he had discovered new evidence about the Catacombs and sent his own child into Orvieto to uncover the truth once and for all.

Payne and Jones discussed the possibilities until Boyd changed the subject, assuring them that there was something more important to discuss. The message on the scroll.

'Jonathon,' he said, 'I was wondering if you could assist me for a moment. I'm afraid I've forgotten the exact terms that your friend Manzak shouted at us in Milan, something about fighting a war. Do you recall with any clarity what he said?'

Payne nodded. 'There was no compassion during the Crusades, nor during this holy war.'

'Holy war, yes!' Boyd jotted the phrase. 'And Christ? What did he say of Christ?'

'Something about how I thought he was fighting for Christ. Then he said he didn't care about Christ because he knew what actually happened back then and realized who the real hero was.'

'Real hero! Yes, those were his words! Splendid job, just splendid!'

'And that means something to you?'

'It might. It just might.' He flipped to a clean sheet of paper. 'And once I left, did he say anything else? Anything about God, or scrolls, or this holy war?'

Payne looked back on his conversation with Manzak and tried to recall what he'd said. Ultimately the tough part of being an interrogator is sorting through all the nonsense in order to expose value. 'He said something about the truth the truth at one point that kind of confused me.' at one point that kind of confused me.'