black priest’s shirt. He dug inside his right trouser pocket and fished out a jet bead rosary. “What’s wrong?”
“Hold up the crucifix.”
Father Conroy followed instructions without hesitation. His pupils remained stable nor did he flinch.
“Is it blessed?” Father Murray asked.
“Every day. According to procedure.” Father Conroy’s face grew pale, and he glanced down at Liam. “You suspect contamination?”
“Put out your hand.” Father Murray brought out his own rosary beads. They were warm from resting inside his own trousers pocket.
Again, Father Conroy did as asked. Pressing the crucifix into Father Conroy’s palm, Father Murray studied the other priest’s reactions and again found no negative reaction.
Thank God, Father Murray thought.
“Should we proceed to the next step?” Father Conroy asked.
“It isn’t necessary.” Father Murray put away his rosary beads. “That’s enough for me.”
“Please forgive me,” Father Conroy said. “But you’ve been in closer contact with the subject than I have. And I understand you didn’t attend mass yesterday.”
“There wasn’t time. Not after the screening, and you know it,” Father Murray said. “Liam isn’t the source of the taint.” Nonetheless, he put out his hand and accepted the touch of Father Conroy’s rosary crucifix without further protest.
“From the moment your friend entered this facility, I’ve counted no less than three security alarms,” Father Conroy said, pocketing his rosary beads. “Three in less than twenty-four hours. I’d say that was a fairly direct causality.”
“Circumstantial evidence.”
“If you say so. Are you going to explain?”
“This facility’s security has been breached.”
Father Conroy’s expression transformed from caution to scepticism. “That isn’t possible.”
“Have you not heard of Sarajevo? December of 1913? Budapest and Vienna in 1914? How about Munich in 1920? That contamination caused factors which led to World War II. The facility in Rome had to be abandoned until 1945. Remember? Or do they not review the Order’s history with recruits anymore?”
Father Conroy shrugged. “Procedures have been set in place since then and have stood the test. There hasn’t been a recurrence in decades. We learned from those mistakes.”
“And who is to say the Fallen haven’t as well?”
“Don’t be preposterous!”
“I’m bloody serious and lower your voice,” Father Murray whispered. “I’m warning you. The security team outside that door have been contaminated.”
“Your evidence?”
“Is that not evidence enough?” Father Murray asked, pointing at Liam. “Or does it have to be you or me before you’ll admit something is wrong?” He sighed and pushed up his glasses. He was tired, his head ached and his eyes burned. “There’s no time for this. If you’ll not accept the word of a Guardian—”
“A retired Guardian,” Father Conroy interrupted, “who resigned under unusual circumstances.”
“If you’ll not report the breach, then, fine. All I ask is that you’ll give us a quarter hour to get out of here.”
“I can’t do that. Not without Bishop Avery’s approval.”
“Then ring him. Or give an alert about that security team. Do what you think is right. I don’t care which. The longer you argue with me, the less time either of us has to survive.”
Father Conroy paused and then crossed over to the built-in desk. He picked up the phone receiver and dialled a series of numbers. Several moments passed before the phone was finally answered. “Your Grace, we have a problem.”
Father Murray didn’t bother listening. Any member of the Order who spent time serving in the field knew the lowest of demons was capable of out-witting a human being. Even those who never saw field work were aware of what was at stake. Over-confidence could mean death or worse, damnation. However, Father Conroy was right on one point. The Order had learned much
“Hold up the crucifix.”
Father Conroy followed instructions without hesitation. His pupils remained stable nor did he flinch.
“Is it blessed?” Father Murray asked.
“Every day. According to procedure.” Father Conroy’s face grew pale, and he glanced down at Liam. “You suspect contamination?”
“Put out your hand.” Father Murray brought out his own rosary beads. They were warm from resting inside his own trousers pocket.
Again, Father Conroy did as asked. Pressing the crucifix into Father Conroy’s palm, Father Murray studied the other priest’s reactions and again found no negative reaction.
Thank God, Father Murray thought.
“Should we proceed to the next step?” Father Conroy asked.
“It isn’t necessary.” Father Murray put away his rosary beads. “That’s enough for me.”
“Please forgive me,” Father Conroy said. “But you’ve been in closer contact with the subject than I have. And I understand you didn’t attend mass yesterday.”
“There wasn’t time. Not after the screening, and you know it,” Father Murray said. “Liam isn’t the source of the taint.” Nonetheless, he put out his hand and accepted the touch of Father Conroy’s rosary crucifix without further protest.
“From the moment your friend entered this facility, I’ve counted no less than three security alarms,” Father Conroy said, pocketing his rosary beads. “Three in less than twenty-four hours. I’d say that was a fairly direct causality.”
“Circumstantial evidence.”
“If you say so. Are you going to explain?”
“This facility’s security has been breached.”
Father Conroy’s expression transformed from caution to scepticism. “That isn’t possible.”
“Have you not heard of Sarajevo? December of 1913? Budapest and Vienna in 1914? How about Munich in 1920? That contamination caused factors which led to World War II. The facility in Rome had to be abandoned until 1945. Remember? Or do they not review the Order’s history with recruits anymore?”
Father Conroy shrugged. “Procedures have been set in place since then and have stood the test. There hasn’t been a recurrence in decades. We learned from those mistakes.”
“And who is to say the Fallen haven’t as well?”
“Don’t be preposterous!”
“I’m bloody serious and lower your voice,” Father Murray whispered. “I’m warning you. The security team outside that door have been contaminated.”
“Your evidence?”
“Is that not evidence enough?” Father Murray asked, pointing at Liam. “Or does it have to be you or me before you’ll admit something is wrong?” He sighed and pushed up his glasses. He was tired, his head ached and his eyes burned. “There’s no time for this. If you’ll not accept the word of a Guardian—”
“A retired Guardian,” Father Conroy interrupted, “who resigned under unusual circumstances.”
“If you’ll not report the breach, then, fine. All I ask is that you’ll give us a quarter hour to get out of here.”
“I can’t do that. Not without Bishop Avery’s approval.”
“Then ring him. Or give an alert about that security team. Do what you think is right. I don’t care which. The longer you argue with me, the less time either of us has to survive.”
Father Conroy paused and then crossed over to the built-in desk. He picked up the phone receiver and dialled a series of numbers. Several moments passed before the phone was finally answered. “Your Grace, we have a problem.”
Father Murray didn’t bother listening. Any member of the Order who spent time serving in the field knew the lowest of demons was capable of out-witting a human being. Even those who never saw field work were aware of what was at stake. Over-confidence could mean death or worse, damnation. However, Father Conroy was right on one point. The Order had learned much
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