The Pope, having finished his homily, looked at his small audience for reaction. His eyes moved back and forth several times before settling on Gabriel’s face. “Something tells me you wish to take issue with something I’ve said.”

“You are a man of great eloquence, Holiness.”

“You are among family, Gabriel. Speak your mind.”

“The forces of radical Islam have declared war on us—America, the West, Christianity, Israel. Under God’s law and the laws of man, we have the right, indeed the moral duty, to resist.”

“Resist the terrorists with justice and opportunity rather than violence and bloodshed. When statesmen resort to violence, it is humanity that suffers.”

“You seem to believe that the problem of terrorism and radical Islam can be swept away if they were more like us—that if poverty, illiteracy, and tyranny weren’t so prevalent in the Muslim world, there would be no young men willing to sacrifice their lives in order to maim and kill others. But they’ve seen the way we live, and they want nothing of it. They’ve seen our democracy, and they reject it. They view democracy as a religion that runs counter to the central tenets of Islam, and therefore they will resist it with a sacred rage. How do we deliver justice and prosperity to these men of Islam who believe only in death?”

“It certainly cannot be imposed on them by the barrel of a white man’s gun.”

“I agree, Holiness. Only when Islam reforms itself will there be social justice and true prosperity within the Arab world. But in the meantime we cannot sit idly by and do nothing while the jihadists plot our destruction. That, Holiness, is immoral, too.”

The Pope rose from his desk and pushed open the large window overlooking St. Peter’s Square. Night had fallen. Rome stirred beneath his feet.

“I was right about the war, Gabriel, and I’m right about the future that awaits us all—Muslim, Christian, and Jew—if we do not choose another path. But who’s going to listen to me? I’m just an old man in a cassock who lives in a gilded cage. Even my own parishioners don’t listen to me anymore. In Europe we are living as if God does not exist. Anti-Americanism is our only religion now.” He turned and looked at Gabriel. “And anti-Semitism.”

Gabriel was silent. The Pope said, “Luigi tells me you’ve uncovered evidence of a plot against my life. Another plot,” he added with a sad smile.

“I’m afraid so, Holiness.”

“Isn’t it ironic? I’m the one who tried to prevent the war in Iraq. I’m the one who has tried to build a bridge between Christians and Muslims, and yet I’m the one they want to kill.” The Pope looked out his window. “Perhaps I was mistaken. Perhaps they don’t want a bridge after all.”