“Terrific,” Seth mumbled. “The best we can expect is for half the rounds in these old revolvers to work.” He thought of the revolvers and the extra ammunition they had taken from the skeletons of the SS troopers in the Habersam mine.

“With any luck, we can use the revolvers to bluff our way out.” Zoe said hopefully. Neither Morgen nor Seth made any reply.

They arrived at the airport less than thirty minutes later and were directed to the proper terminal. Seth introduced them to the helicopter pilot, who expressed surprise when Seth told him where they wanted to go.

“It’s a busy day for the Cardinal’s Nest,” the pilot said.

Seth asked him what he meant.

“I have a request to pick up the cardinal at eleven and bring him back here. He’s chartered a jet to Rome. Some emergency, I guess.” He paused and added, “The cardinal doesn’t like to be visited unexpectedly. I’ll have to give him a call first, if you don’t mind.”

Seth looked at Morgen, who quickly unzipped his down parka to reveal his clerical collar. The effect on the pilot was immediate.

“I’m carrying important information to the cardinal,” Morgen said, which was not entirely a lie. “He is expecting me and will be angry if I’m delayed. You may call him, but I assure you that he is expecting us.”

The pilot looked at Morgen with respect in his eyes. “Of course, Father,” he said. “Just follow me.” He reached for a wool knit hat, pulled it on over his bald head, and headed for the door.

They fastened their seat belts as the Jet Ranger’s turbine engines whined to their idling pitch. After running through his preflight checklist, the pilot turned to them and nodded. With a sudden start, the engine’s pitch increased and suddenly the ground fell away from them as they drifted forward, nose down.

The pilot leaned the stick sharply over, forcing them against the window. The copter banked steeply now and climbed rapidly enough into the sky to leave butterflies in their stomachs.

THIRTY-SEVEN

Neils Braun had just finished packing his bags when he heard the thwack-thwack-thwack of the helicopter blades in the distance. He glanced at the elegantly expensive Piaget watch on his wrist to make sure that he was not late. The helicopter was early. That was fine, he thought. The sooner he could get to Rome, the sooner he could assume control.

Braun took a last look around his quarters and smiled. It would be the last time he would view it through the eyes of a cardinal. In seventy-two hours, give or take a handful, he would be Pope. He looked forward to the abdication ceremonies.

He used the telephone by his bed to call his manservant and told him to take the packed bags up to the helipad and wait for the helicopter. Then Braun walked briskly down the stairs to the conference room.

The Cardinal’s Nest was situated at the very top of the peak on a ragged, uneven, roughly square plateau about a quarter of a mile from sheer cliff to sheer cliff. The buildings perched on one cliff overlooking the Inn Valley and the Olympic ski slopes of the Axamer Lizum.