The Secret of Fatima by Peter J; Tanous Page B

If Israel were to attack Iran, we wouldn’t have known about it in advance, which gives us Washington’s favorite state of affairs: plausible deniability.”
    â€œGreat! I should have stayed home. The parish priest life is starting to look just fine.”
    â€œWell, it seems that you’ve been called on to do a lot more than an average parish priest.”
    â€œWhat’s your take, Toby?”
    â€œHave you considered that your higher-ups may be playing you?”
    Kevin thought about that for a few seconds. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. “Why would they do that?”
    â€œI don’t know. But I suspect they’re not telling you everything.”
    If that’s even remotely true , Kevin thought, I’m outta here . His next thought was even more chilling. What if I’m being framed, set up as a scapegoat for something?
    â€œI’ll look into it,” Kevin finally said.
    â€œI’m sure you will, pal, but I’ve got another problem. Given what we uncovered here, I can’t sit on it. I have no choice but to send this stuff to Defense and the White House, especially since June 3rd, the date on the encrypted note you sent me, is only a couple of days away. Since the lead came from you, your name will be smeared all over this.”
    Kevin shook his head. Damn! “Do what you have to, Toby.”
    Kevin hung up, hoping the pause and quiet would calm him. It didn’t. Cardinal Porter had mentioned the Israel-Iran war which Opus Mundi might use to justify fulfilling a prophecy and taking over the Vatican. But could the Vatican, or Opus Mundi, for that matter, be involved in this, in starting the war? If so, had they told him everything? And what was his role in it?
    Toby’s questions about his role in this rang loud and clear. Was he being played? How could the whole thing possibly have eluded him? His temper was now ready to burst, and he knew how dangerous that could be. There was only one way to get some answers: Cardinal Porter.
    While he was still fuming, his blood pressure rising, Kevin’s mind quickly turned to Katie’s dilemma. He couldn’t ask Toby for anything else right now, so he decided to do some research himself. He googled Greg Maggio. Precious little came up. He was a member of the Sons of Italy organization and had been involved in various import/export businesses that mostly traded with Italy. A couple of awards, a wife, then a divorce. Nothing else. Consolidated Investors United produced precisely nothing.
    Kevin closed his laptop and went back to stewing about why he was here in Rome.

Chapter Twelve
    Rome, Italy
    Kevin always had to have the last word.
    â€œI quit,” he said as he walked into Cardinal Porter’s office. Without being invited, he’d barged in and flung himself in the chair facing Porter’s desk. He took note of the ornate, gaudy trappings, a gold and white Vatican flag, a Louis XVI desk, an assortment of gaudy baubles and gewgaws, high ceilings, and a communications array on the desk that’d make a general proud. Kevin thought he was perfect in his new role. It was good to be a prince of the Church.
    â€œWhat’s going on, Kevin?” Porter asked, sitting down at the desk. The cardinal was dressed in a simple black cassock, a ribbon of red buttons signaling his lofty post in the hierarchy. His gray hair was combed immaculately, and was a cloud obscuring his blue eyes.
    â€œI don’t have all the details, and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here. I want out. I can’t do an assignment like this half-assed, and that’s how it’s turning out.” Kevin felt his anger festering at a dangerously high level. He was fighting to keep it in check.
    â€œCalm down. Please.” Porter inhaled deeply. “What specifically is bothering you?”
    â€œI’ll tell you, cardinal. I think I was brought here as some kind of scapegoat or