Vatican Assassin Read Free Page A

reaches the closet exit and tries the door.
    Locked!
    He uses his handlaser again. The door’s lock gives a good fight but loses. BC burns through and pushes the door open.
    The door slides halfway open then stops.
    Shit! Well, it’ll have to do.
    He slides through.
    If I’m doing Your work, why won’t You cut me any slack? Huh?
    He’s in a small side corridor off of the main dome of Reagan Station. He edges down the right side of the corridor toward the atrium, tries not to look suspicious covered in sewer sludge and smelling as bad as he looks. He pulls his priestly collar off and pockets it. No need to look that suspicious.
    BC leans out of the corridor to visually scan the area ahead, the edge of the central atrium for Reagan Station. Groups of tall pines tower over, stretching to the starry roof of the dome. Like a forest in a mall. Pine needles and plastic. My bag should be just over by the trunk of that huge pine...
    I don’t see it from here. Good hiding job. Let’s hope .
    He ducks out of the corridor and into the first stand of pine trees in the atrium. He tries to nonchalantly search around for sign of his bag.
    It’s not here! How can it not be here? Is this the wrong group of trees? No, right trees... He pokes around under the pines and walks into a sprinkler hidden by the needles. He feels his left ankle twist the wrong way and he starts to fall.
    Ouch! Damn!
    He breaks his fall and plops down onto the pine needles and grass. He sits, massages his ankle and looks around for any sign of his bag.
    Looks like it was stolen. There’s an indentation in the bushes under the trees where I left it. It was here. It should be right here, these are the trees... c’mon, any helpful coincidences?
    Who would steal a priest’s clothes?
Chapter Three
    Reagan Station began as a military outpost. Now, as Lunar Prime, it thrives as an independent city-state, a hub of commercial activity, a cosmopolitan capitol and neutral territory in the war, home to over two million people. More than just a moon base, Reagan Station is a city unto itself. Built off the main dome are over fifty separate neighborhood areas, engineered and designed to be aesthetically pleasing and diverse as well as functional.
    Most of Reagan Station was constructed in the last half of the 21st century, after a UIN missile strike back in 2062 destroyed most of the first Reagan Station, originally built by the old United Nations as a military security and Mission to Mars base and later ceded to the UTZ. The UIN’s missile strike gave them control of the Moon in 2062.
    The UIN took over the moon after their attack forced the UTZ off. They began rebuilding, making improvements and adapting the base to their needs. Nine years later in 2071, the war shifted, the UTZ regained control of the Moon and reestablished Reagan Station.
    Though still technically a military base, the rebuilt Reagan Station’s entertainment facilities and landing facilities became commercial ventures, subcontracted to corporate members of the UTZ. The UTZ is driven by commerce, and finds ways to make money in any venture. The facilities became incredibly popular, a gold mine for the subcontractors. The entertainment facilities’ growth soon outpaced the UTZ military’s developments on the Moon. The Moon became “civilized”. The employees of these facilities were the moon’s new working class. Luna’s new backbone. Many of the workers were non-Christians from Earth, who moved to the Moon to escape the war. As this population increased, as Reagan Station grew, the independent nature of the people of the Moon grew as well. The moon became a refuge for those party to neither side in the bitter conflict. An interesting and independent place, intentionally diverse and tolerant. In 2082, Luna became an independent state under UTZ auspices. Reagan Station has been growing ever since. Though more city than station, the name has stuck. The Independent government calls Reagan Station