Morgen nodded slowly without taking his steady, sad gaze from Braun’s face. Morgen handed the papers back to Braun. “Look at them again. Look at the dates.”

Braun looked toward Ridgeway. “Why must I—”

“Take the papers,” Ridgeway ordered.

Scowling, Braun snatched the papers from Morgen’s hand and examined them again.

“Look at the dates,” Morgen said.

Seth watched the interplay of the two men with increasing fascination. There was tension between them, that was for sure. But it wasn’t the tension of two old enemies. It was something more… personal than that

Stratton, too, watched the drama played out between the two clergymen, but not with any regard to the issues between the two men. Rather, Stratton was waiting for Seth’s attention to be completely directed to Braun and Morgen.

The scowl on Braun’s face gradually gave way to a look of astonishment as he examined the papers Morgen had given him.

Morgen read Braun’s face: “So the dates do mean something?” Morgen said.

“I … I don’t understand,” Braun said, looking first at Morgen and then with confusion at the papers.

“It’s quite simple, actually,” Morgen said. “The letter to your mother from her husband was written by a brave Oberleutnant from Radom, about sixty miles south of Warsaw, on September 7, 1939. That same brave Oberleutnant—”

“My father,” Braun interrupted.

Morgen ignored him as he continued. “That brave Oberleutnant died in the battle on September 9 in the German assault on Warsaw.” The old priest paused, licked his lips, then resumed. “You were born August 6, 1940, nearly eleven months after this brave Oberleutnant died.”

“I still don’t understand,” Braun said softly, genuinely confused. “You’ve gone to great lengths to prove that I’m illegitimate. So, I’m illegitimate? I wouldn’t be the first Pope who was born a bastard. But that hardly justifies your behavior for the past forty years.”

“No, ordinarily you’d be right,” Morgen said. “But you’re not just any bastard. You’re my bastard.”

Braun’s face drained of color as if a plug had been pulled. His mouth flew open. “You… you’re my father?

Morgen nodded.

Attention focused on Morgen and Braun. Stratton lunged for his pistol.

“Seth!” Zoe’s scream dragged Ridgeway’s attention away from Morgen and Braun.

Seth leveled the revolver at Stratton and pulled the trigger. The hammer made a self-important click as it fell on a dud round. Seth felt his stomach drop through the floor. Stratton’s hand was inches away from the Colt Seth followed him with the muzzle of the revolver, brought the hammer back, and pulled the trigger again. And again the revolver’s hammer fell on a dud round.

Stratton grabbed the Colt and let his lunge carry him in a roll off the other side of the table and onto the floor.

“Get back,” Seth yelled to Zoe, but she stood her ground and aimed her revolver toward where Stratton had disappeared behind the table.

In an instant Stratton jumped up, firing wildly with the Colt. Stratton trained his gun on Seth. Seth fired at him again, but for the third time, the revolver failed to fire. Stratton tugged smoothly on the Colt’s trigger.