Chapter 115

           

           InSt.Peter’sSquare,theSwissGuardpilotsatinthecockpitoftheparkedVaticanhelicopterandrubbedhistemples.Thechaosinthesquarearoundhimwassoloudthatitdrownedoutthesoundofhisidlingrotors.Thiswasnosolemncandlelightvigil.Hewasamazedariothadnotbrokenoutyet.

           Withlessthantwenty-fiveminutesleftuntilmidnight,thepeoplewerestillpackedtogether,somepraying,someweepingforthechurch,othersscreamingobscenitiesandproclaimingthatthiswaswhatthechurchdeserved,stillotherschantingapocalypticBibleverses.

           Thepilot’sheadpoundedasthemedialightsglintedoffhiswindshield.Hesquintedoutattheclamorousmasses.Bannerswavedoverthecrowd.

           AntimatteristheAntichrist!

           Scientist=Satanist

           WhereisyourGodnow?

           Thepilotgroaned,hisheadacheworsening.Hehalfconsideredgrabbingthewindshield’svinylcoveringandputtingitupsohewouldn’thavetowatch,butheknewhewouldbeairborneinamatterofminutes.LieutenantChartrandhadjustradioedwithterriblenews.ThecamerlegnohadbeenattackedbyMaximilianKohlerandseriouslyinjured.Chartrand,theAmerican,andthewomanwerecarryingthecamerlegnooutnowsohecouldbeevacuatedtoahospital.

           Thepilotfeltpersonallyresponsiblefortheattack.Hereprimandedhimselffornotactingonhisgut.Earlier,whenhehadpickedupKohlerattheairport,hehadsensedsomethinginthescientist’sdeadeyes.Hecouldn’tplaceit,buthedidn’tlikeit.Notthatitmattered.Rocherwasrunningtheshow,andRocherinsistedthiswastheguy.Rocherhadapparentlybeenwrong

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