Donati looked out at the multitude in the square: Catholic pilgrims and dignitaries from around the globe, schoolchildren in white, groups of sick and elderly come to the get the pontiff’s blessing. The Pope was seated in a scarlet ceremonial throne. In the tradition he’d inherited from his predecessor, he was greeting the pilgrims in their native languages, moving rapidly from one to the next.

“And what about the pilgrims?” Donati asked. “How do we protect them?”

“It may be too late for them. Some of them, at least. If we try to warn them, there’ll be panic. Get the Holy Father out of the square as quickly and quietly as possible. Then we’ll start moving the pilgrims out.”

Colonel Brunner, the Swiss Guard commandant, joined them on the dais. Like the rest of the Pope’s personal security detail, he was dressed in a dark business suit and wore an earpiece. When Donati explained the situation, Brunner’s face drained of color.

“We’ll take him through the Basilica.”

“And if they’ve concealed bombs in there?” Gabriel asked.

Brunner opened his mouth to reply, but his words were swept away by a searing blast wave. The sound came a millisecond later, a deafening thunderclap made more intense by the vast echo chamber of St. Peter’s Square. Gabriel was blown from the dais—a scrap of paper on a gale-force wind. His body took flight and turned over at least once. Then he landed hard on the steps of the Basilica and blacked out.

WHEN HE opened his eyes he saw Christ’s Apostles peering down at him from their perch atop the façade. He did not know how long he had been unconscious. A few seconds, perhaps, but not longer. He sat up, ears ringing, and looked around. To his right were the Curial prelates who had been on the dais with the Pope. They appeared shocked and tousled but largely unhurt. To his left lay Donati and next to Donati was Karl Brunner. The commandant’s eyes were closed, and he was bleeding heavily from a wound at the back of his head.

Gabriel got to his feet and looked around.

Where was the Pope?

Ibrahim el-Banna had cleared three priests into the Vatican.

Gabriel suspected there were two more blasts to come.

He found the SIG-Sauer he’d taken from the Swiss Guard and shouted at the prelates to stay down. Then, as he climbed back onto the dais to look for Lucchesi, the second bomb exploded.

Another wave of searing heat and wind.

Another thunderclap.

Gabriel was hurled backward. This time he came to rest atop Donati.

He got to his feet again. He wasn’t able to reach the dais before the third bomb detonated.