Free The 731 Legacy by Lynn Sholes Page B

said. "The main assets of the Church are in art treasures, antiquities, and property holdings. Liquid assets—cash—that is a different matter. Please calm yourself and be rational. If we negotiate with these men, we set precedence for an endless stream of the same. You know why El Al is never hijacked and why there aren't thousands of Israelis being kidnapped every year? Because Israel refuses to negotiate with terrorists under any circumstances. The Vatican must take the same stance."

    Cotten felt her breathing come hard and fast. She understood the principle, but this was John.How different it is when something like this hits home—when someone you love is in jeopardy. Intellectually, she understood the cardinal's point, but in her heart...

    "I'm trying to be rational," she said. "Really I am. But these are priests, for heaven's sake. Good men. They have dedicated their lives to God. Can't God give a little back?"

    She dropped into the chair. "Damn."

    "We will do what we can, but negotiations are out of the question," Fazio said.

    Montiagro reached to touch her shoulder. "I know you understand our position, but that doesn't take the sting out of it."

    "No, it doesn't." Cotten wiped the budding tears from her eyes. "But didn't I hear there were security men with them. Members of the Swiss Guard? Why weren't they able to stop this from happening?"

    Fazio glanced at his hands. "There were two bodyguards with them, that is correct, but..."

    "But what?" Cotten shoved her hair away from her face.

    "They were executed," Montiagro said.

    "Executed? How do you know that? What are you keeping from me?
    Please, tell me everything."

    Fazio rose and walked to his desk. He opened a drawer, took out a brown envelope, and removed its contents. "We received these digital images. Nothing you would want to see. Just take my word for it."

    43

    "Trust me, as a network journalist, I've seen just about everything. Show me what you have." She held out her hand.

    "Be warned, this one is graphic," the cardinal said. "Actually, barbaric. Are you sure?"

    Cotten's throat felt closed, and so instead of speaking she nodded.

    The cardinal handed her the first photo.

    The image almost sucked her breath from her. The heads of two men she assumed were the guards were impaled on metal stakes sticking up from the ground, a stark winter forest their backdrop.

    Cotten studied the picture. "And you are sure these are the men who accompanied John and the others?"

    "Yes," Fazio said.

    She slumped in the chair. "But you don't have pictures like this of John?" She didn't want to ask that question, because she wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answer. Cotten held her breath waiting for the response.

    "No, not like those," Fazio said.

    Cotten picked up on his hesitation. "But you do have a picture of John?"

    "Yes," Fazio said.

    She stared into his dark brown eyes, her hand outstretched.

    The cardinal handed her the other photo.

    A huge, deep sigh involuntarily escaped her as she looked at the photograph. "John is alive," she said, tears choking her. She studied the color laser printout of John along with two other priests.

    "He was alive when the photo was taken. That's all that we know," Fazio said.

    The photo was of John and the other two standing in front of a stone wall. Snow covered the ground. Other than the wall and the snow, there were no details to help identify their location.

    "What do you make of the wall?" she asked.

    Fazio shrugged. "It could be anywhere."

    "But there's snow," she said. "Where is it snowing right now?"

    The cardinal shook his head. "Most of the mountains of Eastern Europe are under an early winter blizzard. The area covers massive amounts of land."

    "So we know they're in the mountains?"

    "Perhaps."

    "The wall looks old," she said. "Maybe a fort or castle?"

    Fazio spread his hands apart. "All of Europe is old."

    Montiagro spoke up. "The point is, Cotten, we really have little to go on. It's obvious