GENESIS (GODS CHAIN) (33 page)

CHAPTER V

THE VATICAN DUNGEONS

Francesca reeled back in shock when she read the message.
The expression on her face said it all as
her visage transformed
from
that of
a lively
young thing
to that of a pale ghost
. She
stared blankly at the message from
“
Pope
”
.

It’s from
Michaelangelo
—
he really is in big trouble! What is he talking about?
H
ow
am
I in any danger?
Is he finally cracking up
?
What does he mean that I
should
not let anybody know? My God
,
when will he contact me?

Francesca began to panic
and
her heart rac
ed
to beat in her chest.
She quickly sent the e
-
mail to print
, and
then sent a copy to her own
personal
e
-
mail address before deleting the original message from the system, just to be safe from the auditors
’
prying eyes.

The last thing she wanted was for anyone to read the
message,
and especially not
VIA
Without looking at the hardcopy
,
Francesca quickly folde
d
it up and put in safely in her handbag. It was morning
,
about ten o’clock by now
,
and the office was in full swing. Busy, busy, busy.
Francesca’s phone was ringing
when she sat down once more
...
.

‘Hey, Francesca
,
is the
s
erver going down again
?
’
Francesca felt the shock and horror flooding over her features but could no longer hide her emotions. Massimo sunk
below his desk until she could only see his stupid
-
looking face.
T
he young man had always been a bit of a comedian. ‘I was just looking at your shocked face
,
honey. Ha! I wish I had a camera!’
He’d
n
otic
ed that
she had been acting peculiar
ly
for several days
, and wanted to cheer her up a little
.

Picking her head up
, although
still reeling in dumbfounded surprise at
Michaelangelo
’s
message
, Francesca tried to manufacture an appropriate response.
‘The only thing that’s going down now is
you
,
clown features!’
she joked,
half smiling at him.

‘Touchy, Fran
,
touchy
!
Come on
,
pal
,
give us a laugh
—
you
’re
looking so
serious
today.’ Massimo urged her
to lighten up.
Francesca
knew she seemed distant
, but wasn’t sure how to behave normally anymore—she wasn’t sure what normal felt like, anymore
.
‘I’ll make a deal with you
,
gorgeous
,’ Massimo proposed.
‘L
et
’
s both go down to LGB2 later
.
T
hat data switch badly needs
to be
replaced and I’ll need a hand.’
Unfortunately
,
he was right.

‘
Si
,
handsome, we will go down later
,
after lunch?’
Francesca tried to sound
bright and bouncy
,
al
though nothing could be further from the truth.
The last place she wanted to visit was the recesses of the
D
ungeon!

‘We will go down hand in hand then
,
baby
.
’
H
e laughed with no more enthusiasm than
his co-worker
at this gloomy

thought.
It was always good to have company
in the Dungeon—the room
was cramp
ed, with
narrow walls
and a
low ceiling
,
all
roughly cut out of the stone.
It felt like being buried alive.

**********

Francesca had keen eyesight
,
a
nd
something caught her attention
as she
look
ed
past Paulina’s shoulder and towards the commission
e
r’s desk that was just
visible
beyond the white rush of water crashing down into the crystal fountain.
Two people had just arrived
, and
were standing
at the desk
in dark corporate suits
,
speaking directly to
Mario
,
who
turn
ed
to stare at the glass security doors into the office.
B
oth people were wearing dark sunglasses
that obscured much of their faces. Francesca
ducked behind Paulina a little as the
people
were
led
to the entrance
of the office
.
The commissionaire swished his
ID
card through the soundproof doors and
,
for a short moment
,
the crashing noises of the fountain flooded in from the polished foyer as the man and woman entered.

The man was
slim,
about five
-
f
ee
t eight
inches tall, and was
accompanied by a much taller woman.
Both
appeared to be
very healthy
,
with
fit bodies and sun-kissed
skins. The man
’s
dark brown hair
was
perfect
ly parted to the
side and
he
w
o
r
e
a white shirt with
a
multicoloured tie and soft
,
expensive
,
black leather shoes.
The
slender,
blonde haired
young
woman scanned the office. Her hair
was
styled up with mousse
, which
made her appear taller
than the man
.
Her s
mooth
,
shapely legs and sculptured face
made her seem
too perfect
to be real
.
Wearing a
white and tight
-
fitting blouse
beneath
an open pinstripe jacket, there was a disturbing sexuality
about
her personality as she
strode through the male-dominated office
.

The commissionaire
led
them
further
into the office. Both people
had
scarlet purple badges shaped
like
cross
es
with gold lettering clipped onto their hips
. The cross-shaped badges swung like swords
as they walked
between the desks
.
I
s that VIP?
Francesca wondered. They each
carried a small leather briefcase with a minute papal seal crest
glistening
between the combination locks.