Harrison returned to the cockpit. He was about six hours away from the continental United States. He planned to start his descent while still over the Atlantic. If Target One exploded at or below 8,000 feet, he did not want to endanger the innocent people below by dropping a rain of torn and twisted metal on them.
Harrison folded his arms and laid back as far as he could into the pilot’s seat. He did not dare close his eyes, but he needed some mental rest. Harrison’s thoughts drifted to Hannah as they always did in his semi-relaxed state. He looked at his watch and realized
that it was almost ten o’clock in the morning in Rome. If Hannah decided to keep their scheduled visit with Josetta, his fiancée and holy friend would meet for the first time in one hour.
Hannah sat in front of the mirror trying to achieve the proper appearance respectful of the office of the Holy See. She has met and interviewed a number of dignitaries during her career as a journalist, but none holds a match to the audience with the Pontiff. Hannah decided to keep their scheduled appointment with Josetta even though Harrison was unable to be with her. She so wanted to see the two men together who on the surface seemed to be such a mismatch of purpose and ideals. Besides, Hannah knew full well that she would spend a great deal of her time thinking about Harrison and the risks that he was taking for his country.
Hannah called the front desk and asked that a cab be ready in thirty minutes. She stood near a full-length mirror and made final adjustments to her appearance. Hannah glanced up and down the length of the mirror and was satisfied with her image. She walked over by the desk and sat down. Hannah opened each desk drawer in turn until she came across some hotel stationery. She knew that Harrison might not be able to contact her anytime soon and decided to write him a letter. Hannah desired minimally that Harrison knew she was thinking of him. She thought for a moment with the pen hovering over the stationery. She began writing as she became satisfied with her thoughts. Hannah wrote:
“Dear Darling,
I know that you are busy and engaged with your mission. I just wanted you to know how much I care about you. Time away from you passes slowly. I decided to meet with your holy friend, Josetta. I’m sure he’ll have some interesting things to tell me about you [that which Hannah was certain]. At the least maybe he will finish your story! I will give him your love. I look forward to seeing you again. My thoughts are with you.
Love, your H.”
Hannah addressed the letter as Harrison had instructed her with a simple post office box number somewhere in Washington, D.C. She was not sure where in Washington the letter terminated, but she was certain that Harrison would receive it when the conditions were ‘right.’ Hannah grabbed her purse and held onto the letter. She took the hotel elevator down to the lobby. The hotel clerk greeted her and said, “Your cab is ready, Miss Littleton.” Hannah replied, “Thank you. Please post this letter for me.” The clerk took the letter from Hannah. She walked out the door where a cab was waiting for her. The cab driver stood by the door and opened it for her as she approached. Hannah slipped inside the rear seat of the cab. The driver closed the door and walked around the back of the cab to the driver’s side. He sat in the driver’s seat, turned around toward Hannah and asked, “Where to, Miss?” “Vatican City,” was his passenger’s reply. The driver turned facing toward the front and put the cab in gear. He drove away from the hotel and headed for Vatican City all the while glancing intermittently in the mirror at his beautiful passenger.
The drive was a pleasant one in the late morning. They arrived at the Vatican in less than thirty minutes. Hannah paid the driver and passed the Swiss Papal Guards as she entered the Holy See. She walked up to a frocked priest sitting at a desk and introduced herself, “Good morning, Father. My name is Hannah Littleton. My fiancé, Harrison Rossetti, and I have an audience with the Pontiff at eleven o’clock this morning. However, Mr. Rossetti was unable to keep the appointment.” The good Father smiled at Hannah and opened a ledger on the desk. He scanned the names and appointment times with his finger looking for Harrison’s familiar name. The priest came upon the names of Harrison and Hannah and said, “Yes, Miss Littleton. Your visit has been confirmed. Pope Josetta is ill although seems in better spirits today. He always looks forward to a visit from Mr. Rossetti. He will be disappointed that Mr. Rossetti was unable to attend this morning. I’m sure, however, that he will be happy to meet with you. Please have a seat and we will call for you when the Pontiff is ready.” The priest motioned to a row of chairs across from the desk. Hannah thanked the holy man and took a seat as indicated.
As Hannah waited, she occupied herself by looking at the various paintings and carvings on the wall. That the Vatican had one of the best art collections was well known and from what little that Hannah observed from her vantage point, such a claim was not an unwarranted one. Behind Hannah was the Lord’s Prayer written beautifully in Italian. She read the words to herself:
‘Nostro Padre, che arte in cielo, ha santificato è il Suo nome il Suo regno viene, Suo sarà fatto, Su terra come è in cielo. Ci dia questo giorno il nostro pane quotidiano E perdona noi le nostre trasgressioni come perdoniamo quelli che va oltre i limiti del lecito contro noi E piombo noi non in tentazione, ma consegna noi da cattivo. Amen.’
Hannah’s thoughts suddenly turned to Harrison. ‘The human mind was so amazing; someone or something can be so far away and yet so nearby in one’s mind’ she thought to herself. She took a moment to pray for her beloved’s safe return to her.
Hannah’s prayer was interrupted by a short, thin cleric. “You must be Miss Littleton,” said the priest. He reached out his hand and introduced himself, “I am Father Alan Pusniche. Harrison did not exaggerate his claims about you.” Hannah was somewhat taken back at the clergyman’s familiarity, but managed to reach for the cleric’s hand and shake it firmly. “You know my fiancé?” she managed to ask with some humility. “Oh, yes” said the priest. “Mr. Rossetti has visited the Holy Father for many years and is quite familiar to those of us in the Holy Office. Is Harrison not with you?” “No,” Hannah replied conveying disappointment. “He received an urgent call early this morning and is flying back to the States as we speak.” “It’s always urgent for your Harrison” commented Father Pusniche. Hannah was unsure as to the tone of the comment, but agreed, “Yes, it seems to be.” The priest motioned Hannah to follow him as he walked ahead of her.
Hannah and the priest walked down a long passageway that led to a door protected by a Swiss Papal guard. Neither the sentry nor the priest spoke, but the guard stepped aside as they approached. Father Pusniche opened the door and Hannah found herself in the outer office of the Pope’s private quarters. The priest motioned Hannah to sit at one of the office chairs and said, “If you will sit here, I will check if the Holy Father is ready to receive you.” With that, the cleric disappeared behind a second door.
The papal office was not what Hannah had expected. It appeared stark in contrast to the ornamental trappings of the Vatican proper. The office reflected the life of a simple, humble man. A wooden crucifix hung on the wall above the door. A picture of Jesus wearing a crown of thorns adorned another wall. The papal desk appeared to be that of highly polished walnut. Three stacks of paper were neatly arranged on the top of the desk along with the usual office supplies. There was an overstuffed chair behind the desk that appeared out-of-place, perhaps used temporarily by the Pontiff since the onset of his illness. Hannah wondered how often Harrison sat in this very office awaiting his holy friend.
Within 15 minutes, Father Pusniche returned to the outer office. He smiled at Hannah and then he asked her to follow him. The