Free The Secret Cardinal by Tom Grace Page B

regarding Bishop Yin, we can still proceed.”

    Kilkenny immediately grasped Donoher’s dilemma. “But you’re only in charge until the new pope is elected.”
    â€œWhich could be as soon as fifteen days from now,” Donoher said. “And if the new pope doesn’t find this idea brilliant, the project is dead.”
    â€œAnd Yin with it,” Grin added.
    Kilkenny stared at the model of Yin’s prison, imagining the dark, lonely cell where decades of the bishop’s life had been stolen in a dry martyrdom. The injustice of that windowless hellhole infuriated Kilkenny and fueled his desire to find a way to free the bishop. Unlike the cancer that took his wife and child, Kilkenny knew how to attack the walls of Chifeng Prison. With a viable plan in hand, Kilkenny could not accept that the pope’s untimely death might condemn Yin to die inside that concrete box.
    â€œFifteen days,” Kilkenny fumed through gritted teeth, his mind weighing each step of the plan against an impossible deadline.
    â€œFifteen days is the minimum,” Donoher clarified. “It could be a bit longer if the conclave deadlocks.”
    â€œHow much longer?” Grin asked.
    â€œThirty ballots, about two additional weeks. After that, a trigger in the Apostolic Constitution kicks in that permits a change in the rules of the election. Instead of requiring a two-thirds majority, the electors can opt for an absolute majority or a runoff between the top two candidates on the previous ballot. These rule changes make it easier for a compromise candidate to garner enough votes to break the deadlock and win election.”
    â€œBut we can’t count on a deadlock,” Kilkenny said. “We have to get Yin out of China in fifteen days.”
    â€œBut just a moment ago you said you needed at least a month to prepare,” Donoher said. “How is it you now think you can accomplish this in half that time?”
    â€œBy using people already trained for this kind of work.” Kilkenny replied.
    â€œMercenaries?” The cardinal was incredulous.
    â€œVolunteers,” Kilkenny replied. “Special Forces and CIA, but we’ll
need permission to use them. I need the kind of people I can trust with my life.”
    Kilkenny’s eyes remained on the hologram of Chifeng Prison as he spoke, his face eerily illuminated by the computer-generated mirage. But the look of deep concentration that tightened his features waned, leaving behind determined calm.
    â€œYou’re not intending to go into China yourself, are you?” Donoher asked.
    Kilkenny nodded. “It’s the only way to get the job done in time. Grin can handle the tech side of things without me.”
    â€œThis isn’t what I brought you here for,” Donoher protested. “Your father will never forgive me.”
    â€œI couldn’t forgive myself if I let Yin continue to rot in that hellhole knowing that I could have gotten him out. I appreciate your concern for my father’s feelings, but this isn’t any different from my time in the Navy, and he should understand that.”
    â€œThere’s still a chance the new pope will approve of your plan,” Donoher said, almost pleading.
    â€œAre you willing to bet Yin’s life on that?” Kilkenny asked.
    Donoher considered the papabili, those cardinals considered favorites for the papacy. All were good, deeply religious men, but none possessed the fiery determination of the late pope. Most, if not all, would find the plan to free Yin provocative and far too risky.
    â€œNo,” Donoher conceded.
    Kilkenny stood and turned toward Donoher. “Our choice really is now or never.”
    â€œThen I can think of no greater honor to the memory of Pope Leo,” Donoher declared, “than to fulfill his last request.”

10
    Donoher sat alone in a well-lit conference room in the catacombs. The table before him held several stacks of