Free Angels Fallen by Francis Joseph Smith Page B

schedule and will meet us in a few days time at the Dieter farm. Only then can we proceed with the retrieval of what is rightfully ours.” He pointed a crooked finger at his supervisor, Father Lester, to reinforce the point. “I knew the old sly fox still had our product hidden at the farm.  That’s why he didn’t sell the farm after all these years.”
    Father Lester was well aware of Perluci’s frequent talks with his old friend Pope Benedict, but , hell, he was a dinosaur compared to the newer more experienced agents.  Even the Pope should realize he wasn’t the right man to lead this mission.
    “Mr. Perluci, in your opinion, do you think we will have to activate our action teams in order to secure the farm in case of a conflict?” Father Lester surveyed the man for any sign of weakness in his response.
    “Absolutely not,” Perluci replied sarcastically, actually sneering at the insinuation. “Hell no!  I will go alone and meet our long-lost friend.  Between myself and our man, we should be able to handle the American.”
    “Be reasonable man, you are pushing 86 years old,” Father Lester shot back. “You are not the same young buck you were some sixty years ago.  This could turn out to be a dangerous situation. You could be killed. Who’s to say our man hasn’t turned? You are assuming he is still an asset , but in reality, he could become an adversary.”
    Perluci slowly shook his head. “ I have to save the Churc h— The Vatican itself . You have no idea what is about to happen if this is exposed to the world-wide press.” He forcefully pointed to a chair. “Sit down, and I will tell you the rest of the
    story — something that only four people are aware of,” holding up his fingers for emphasis, “and you are about to become the fifth.”
    Father Lester stared hard at Perluci for a few seconds before sitting down.
    Perluci nod ded to him. “Do you remember your history from World War II?” he said as if addressing an errant school child.
    “But of course I d o— I have a Doctorate in 20 th century warfare. ”
    “Yes, of course, Perluci sneered. “While I was making history, you were learning it some 50 years later. Are you familiar with the Yugoslav front in World War II?”
    Father Lester nods.
    “Good, now I will tell you the part the history books omitted. In 1945, with the war going badly for the Germans and their Croatian Allies, the powers-that-be needed a relatively safe place to hide all of the gold they had looted from Yugoslavian Jews now held in Concentration Camps scattered across Poland and Germany. Which between the Jewish gold and the gold from the looted Yugoslav treasury, it amounted to over $500 million in today’s money.”
    Perluci walk ed over to where Father Lester sat, he leaned into the man.  “Now for the real juicy part. The nastiest Nazi bastard of all, Heinrich Himmler, bartered a secret agreement with Pope Pius XII.  Our Holy Father quietly offered them the services of the Vatican Bank if the Nazis would stop killing the Jews held in the camps. In effect, bartering Jewish gold for Jewish lives. But Himmler had another thought in mind. The war would soon be over, and he knew they would be on the losing end. He would need access to money—lots of it. The Vatican provided its personal assurances that if the looted gold were deposited into the Vatican Bank, it would be safe from Allied probing once the war was over.”
    Perluci smiled at Father Lester, pausing several seconds before he continued. “But that’s not all.  Once the gold was in Vatican hands, Himmler insisted the Vatican set up escape routes for high-ranking Nazis, routes that would run from Franciscan Monasteries, to Catholic churches, to eventually South America and freedom.”
    “Come now , Perluci,” Father Lester spat out, “do you honestly want me to believe that farce? The Ratline was only rumor then, and is still a rumor today!”
    “Not only did Pope Pius know,” Perluci