Apocalypsis 1.0 Signs by Giordano Mario

Author:Giordano, Mario [Giordano, Mario]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Bastei Luebbe
Published: 2012-05-13T22:00:00+00:00

VI

May 1, 2011, Castel Sant’Angelo, Rome

The Passetto di Borgo, a two thousand six hundred foot long escape route, linked the Vatican with the Castel Sant’Angelo, the Castle of Saint Angelo, the fortress of the popes. What looked from the outside like a regular wall was on the inside a narrow passage that had allowed numerous popes throughout the centuries to flee into the papal stronghold – or to get discreetly and without being seen to their mistresses, waiting for them in the lavishly furnished parlors of the Castle of Saint Angelo.

The Passetto left the Vatican at the Via dei Corridori, followed the Borgo Sant’Angelo, crossed the Roman traffic chaos at the Piazza Pia, jumped over the battlements of the Castle of Saint Angelo, and finally entered the northwestern corner tower of the repellent bastion, which had originally been built as a mausoleum for the Emperor Hadrian.

The Passetto was now opened to tourists a few times a year. The rest of the time, the Swiss Guards kept the keys to the two access doors safe.

At that moment, Laurenz had only little sense for the secret passage’s checkered history, as it seeped from the mold-ridden walls and hung in the dank air. He rushed through the half-dark, which received its only light from narrow slits every few yards in the wall, and at one point he cursed quietly as his right shoulder bumped against something jutting out of the wall.

Upon arriving in the Castle of Saint Angelo, he cautiously locked the door and turned to his left, into a steep and narrow stairwell. Laurenz hurried down the stairs. This was not his first time in the castle; he knew his way around and he also was cognizant as how to avoid the hordes of tourists that used to flood all five levels of the castle at this time of day. Guarded by the Archangel Michael from high above the castle, the tourists rolled in over the spiral ramp on the ground floor and up to the former dungeons and the storage rooms for wheat and oil, and then they poured into the Cortile dell’Angelo laughing and photographing while drinking their cokes, proceeding to the fourth floor with the magnificently decorated halls and the treasury. Hardly any of these people had the slightest idea what secrets the Castle of Saint Angelo still hid today.

Only once on his way down did Laurenz run into a scattered group of American teenagers, but they didn’t recognize him, preferring to practice their French kissing. Swiftly and a little out of breath, despite his impressive physical fitness, Laurenz finally reached the ground floor. He slipped outside through a non-descript door, which the second of the two keys fitted.

As agreed, his chauffeur Mario was waiting at the eastern exit of the Castle in his private car, an older model black Alfa Romeo 156. When Laurenz rushed to get in the back of the car, the young Roman with the fashionable sunglasses could not help but be shocked by the facial expression of the man who only a few hours earlier had carried the name John Paul III.

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