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  I close my eyes, force my mouth open, squirm about the bed as though in severe pain and crushing agitation. Cal quickly follows suit. He too rolls around, begins to moan and groan. It’s all I can do not to burst out laughing.

  Slowly opening my eyes, I can see the big grin now forming on the detective’s face.

  “Ahhhh, I see what is happening. And it is okay. You have both been through so much, and you have saved our beloved Holy Father. For now, you should rest. We can talk at another time.” He turns to leave but then stops himself before turning back to us again. “You know, it’s a miracle really that the three of you not only survived the explosions but that you emerged relatively unharmed. You were standing only feet away from the three powerful explosions. It is as if God himself protected you with some kind of holy shield. Remarkable when you think about it.” Raising his hand once more. “Oh, and you will be happy to know that the Spear of Longinus has been returned to its proper owner, the Vatican archives.”

  Once more he turns for the door and begins to make his exit. But again, something stops him. It’s a man. He enters the room without knocking. A suited man wearing dark wrap-around sunglasses. He’s got a black ear bud planted in his left ear, and the bud is attached to a coiled wire that no doubt connects with a wireless communication device inside his jacket pocket.

  A second man enters. He is dressed identically and sporting the same communication device.

  “All clear,” says First Man to Second Man.

  Second Man then waves someone into the room.

  The man who enters is small, and he’s wearing a long black robe around his head and shoulders. There is something about the man that’s difficult to describe. But there’s a definite aura about him. Although he is clearly made of flesh, bone, and blood, it’s as if he is not of this earth. Rather, he is a part of the earth but a part of something far more spiritual as well.

  When he gently pulls back his hood revealing an injured face partially covered with bandages, I know precisely who this man is.

  He is the man we saved.

  He is the Pope.

  I once more feel the need to sit up, straighten myself out. Cal does the same. The Pope is not a shy man. He locks his gaze on my mine, and he does not let go. Reaching out with his hand, he places it on my forearm.

  “Thank you, my son,” he says, in a soft, yet somehow powerful voice. I can’t help but notice that his two missing top teeth have been replaced with new prosthetic teeth. They look almost natural.

  I try to respond to him with, “You’re welcome.” But very little sound comes out of my mouth.

  Turning to Cal, the Pope then takes hold of his arm.

  “Thank you, big man,” he says in English, not without a little laugh. A Pope with a sense of humor. A Pope who loves life. What’s not to like?

  Then, his eyes somehow on both of us at the same time, he makes the sign of the cross.

  “Heavenly Father,” he says, “look down on these men and protect them from not only from their enemies but more importantly, protect them from themselves.”

  That’s when the Pope does something miraculous. He reaches into his black robe and pulls out Cal’s bottle of Irish whiskey. How he was able to snatch it out from under my bed sheets I’ll never know. It’s either a miracle or a pretty damn good magic trick.

  “Gotcha,” he says, a wide smile forming on his black and blued face.

  Cal and can’t help ourselves. We burst out laughing. We then do something I never in a million years would have thought possible. We share a drink with the Papal Father of the Holy Roman Catholic Church. The one man who is second only to Jesus in terms of God and man. Chase, the amazed and humbled.

  In the end, the Pope pulls his hood back over his head and silently leaves the way he came in, his two security guards right on his tail. As for Detective Rabuffo, he follows the Papal Father out, leaving Cal and me all alone once more.

  We say nothing for maybe a minute or two, but it seems like an hour or more. Time has slowed down that much for us.

  But then, I break the silence by asking one single question.

  “What do you think will happen to the spear now that the Vatican has it back its possession?”

  “My guess is that it will be studied and researched in order to uncover the source of its miraculous properties.”

  “Don’t forget the bodies in the tunnel under the Vasari corridor,” I say, my head suddenly filled with the disturbing images of the dead Jews. “They deserve a proper burial.”

  “And let’s also not forget Fix’s .30 cal plus the guns and the RPG launcher,” Cal says. “I owe him enough already. And you owe me large, and the Vatican owes you even larger.”

  “Bills will go out in the morning,” I laugh. “My guess is we’re gonna make money on a job well done, buddy.”

  “Let’s hope so, businessman Chase Baker,” Cal says. “I imagine you will also get a good book out of the experience.”

  “How’s about another drink in the meantime?” I suggest.

  “Aayyy, lad,” Cal says, “that’s the spirit.” He downs a shot, then hands me back the bottle. “And let’s get that nurse back in here. I think it’s time for my back rub.”

  “But first, a toast, Cal,” I say, holding the bottle up.

  “What’ll we toast to?” he asks.

  “How about we toast to a long life?”

  “Not with you hanging around, lad. You’re a dangerous friend.”

  “I promise to be a stranger from now on,” I say. “If that will make you feel any better.”

  I steal a long drink from the bottle, then hand it back to Cal. He drinks.

  “Somehow, I don’t believe you, Baker,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Next week, you’ll be wanting me to risk my life again on behalf of some piece of ancient junk buried in the desert or stolen by some bad guys.”

  “What did the great Hemingway once say, Cal? One can only measure the quality of one’s life by the risks one takes.”

  “I thought it was you who said that, lad.”

  I have to think about it for a minute.

  “Sounds like something I’d say, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, lad, it does,” Cal agrees. “Now, let’s finish this bottle and get the hot nurse to bring us another.”

  I burst out laughing.

  “Sounds like a plan,” I say. “Bottoms up, Calum Candlish.”

  “For tomorrow we die, Chase Baker.”

  THE END

  If you enjoyed this Chase Baker Thriller, we ask that you read The Shroud Key and Chase Baker and the Golden Condor. To collect all the Chase Baker action/adventures, please visit WWW.VINCENTZANDRI.COM. And while you’re there, please sign up for Vincent Zandri’s “For Your Eyes Only Newsletter.”

  About the Author

  Winner of the 2015 PWA Shamus Award and the 2015 ITW Thriller Award for Best Original Paperback Novel, Vincent Zandri is the NEW YORK TIMES, USA TODAY, and AMAZON NO. 1 Overall bestselling author of more than 30 novels including THE REMAINS, MOONLIGHT WEEPS, EVERYTHING BURNS, and ORCHARD GROVE. An MFA in Writing graduate of Vermont College, Zandri's work is translated in the Dutch, Russian, French, Italian, and Japanese. Recently, Zandri was the subject of a major feature by the New York Times. He has also made appearances on Bloomberg TV and FOX news. In December 2014, Suspense Magazine named Zandri's, THE SHROUD KEY, as one of the Best Books of 2014. A freelance photo-journalist and the author of the popular "lit blog," The Vincent Zandri Vox, Zandri has written for Living Ready Magazine, RT, New York Newsday, Hudson Valley Magazine, The Times Union (Albany), Game & Fish Magazine, and many more. He lives in New York and Florence, Italy. For more go to WWW.VINCENTZANDRI.COM

  Vincent Zandri © copyright 2017

  All rights reserved as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permis
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  Bear Media 2016

  4 Orchard Grove, Albany, NY 12204

  http://www.vincentzandri.com

  Cover design by Elder Lemon Art

  Editing by Plot2Published Editing

  Author Photo by Jessica Painter

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to a real person, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Published in the United States of America

  The author is represented by Chip MacGregor of the MacGregor Literary Agency

  Table of Contents

  Chase Baker and the Spear of Destiny

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  About the Author