Saint Peter's Soldiers (A James Acton Thriller, Book #14) Read Free Page B

faith in general from
outside threats, not the least of which had been the Nazis.
    One of
the few loose ends of that era tied up by the man he was meeting today.
    He checked
his watch.
    Where
is he?
    In 1941,
the Keepers had received word that the Nazis were attempting to acquire
religious artifacts from around the world. And the Keepers had acted. They had
immediately made contact with anyone who possessed something the Nazis may be
interested in, and offered to take it into safekeeping. Few accepted the offer,
the Keepers mere strangers, though once the threat became real, contact began
to be made, including a small museum in the town of Rivoli.
    With
regard to a self-portrait of Leonardo da Vinci, drawn in red chalk.
    He had
never seen it beyond the photos. It had been preserved in one of the Keeper’s
archives, and once the world had been deemed safe again, it had been returned.
    News of
the return had spread like wildfire, the compelling story of how it had been
returned anonymously after having been secreted away from the Nazis, quickly
gaining attention.
    He had
been there the night it was returned, the very man he was waiting for the one
who had placed it on the doorstep of the modest museum. Diego had been but an
apprentice then, Saverio his master, but now he was a full-fledged Keeper,
tasked with duties he could only have dreamed of in 1998 when the portrait had
been returned.
    And when
he had received the call to meet Saverio here, at this hour, his heart had
raced in anticipation and curiosity.
    As it
did now at the sight of the older man making his way toward him, a rather large
satchel slung over his shoulder. Diego was about to rise when Saverio held out
a hand, stopping him. He dropped onto the bench beside him and shook his hand.
“How are you, my boy? It has been a long time.”
    “Over
fifteen years.” The years hadn’t been kind to Saverio. He looked older than he
should. In fact, he appeared unwell.
    Saverio seemed
to notice the concern. “Your eyes do not deceive you, my young friend. I am
dying.”
    Diego felt
his chest tighten as his eyes widened and his jaw dropped. “How? Why? I mean—” He
stopped himself, casting his eyes at the ground. “I’m sorry.”
    Saverio patted
Diego’s shoulder. “I appreciate your concern, young one. It is cancer and I
have little time left, which means I need to settle my affairs.” He patted the
large leather satchel beside him. “You remember the last time we met?”
    “Of
course.”
    “We
returned a portrait to a small museum in Rivoli.”
    “Of
course, I remember it as if it were yesterday.”
    “What if
I told you it was all a lie?”
    What Saverio
told him next shocked him to his very core. Everything he remembered of that
night, the pride he had felt in reading the news reports and knowing his small
part, were shattered in the several minutes it took to impart the truth.
    “But
why?”
    “It was
necessary. After the war, we knew there would be many Nazis left remaining and
it wouldn’t be safe to return any of the artifacts put into our safekeeping.
With the new millennium approaching, it was decided that enough time had passed
that any Nazis still alive would be too old to be of any threat, and with the
fascist dream dead, little chance they might actually bother trying anything.
After all, the artifacts were hidden away because of rumors surrounding them.”
He flicked his wrist. “Like our portrait.”
    “You
mean the legend that if you stared into da Vinci’s eyes—”
    “You’d
get great power. Exactly. Nonsense, of course, but these were valuable
artifacts that we didn’t want to see stolen or destroyed due to dogma. But by
the end of the millennium, with over fifty years past, it was decided it was time
to start returning these items. It was a decision I didn’t agree with.”
    “Why?”
    “Because
I had been hearing rumors.”
    “What
rumors?”
    “That
the Nazis were still alive and well. I couldn’t prove it, so I was