Mirror, Mirror at 1600 D.C.. Edward Galluzzi

I enjoyed and valued life, of course, but my soul was at peace with God and prepared always for death.”

      Josetta stopped and reached for a glass of water from the bedside table. Hannah rose immediately, picked up the glass and handed it to him. Josetta took several sips from the glass and returned it to Hannah. He contemplated for a moment what he told Hannah thus far and spoke slowly. “I asked the gunman to help me up off my knee. I knew that if I were to gain the upper advantage, it was going to be at that very moment. The other gunman still had his hands down with no weapon in view. As the mercenary with the gun reached out with his free hand to assist me, I jerked his hand quickly. He stumbled to the ground, in shock I imagine, losing his gun in the process. Whether by fate or an act of God, the gun skidded toward me. I was not a stranger to firearms as my father often took me hunting as a ‘bambino’—a little boy.”

      Josetta began coughing once more. Hannah rose from her chair and gave the Pontiff his glass of water. The holy man took several swallows of the liquid and returned the glass to Hannah. Hannah sat down as Josetta cleared his throat and continued, “I only had seconds to beg for God’s mercy and forgiveness as I grabbed the gun. The thin, tall assassin who a moment ago was unarmed had reached for his weapon. I said aloud, ‘Mother of God please forgive me.’ I fired once dropping the man to the church floor. He laid still and he appeared no longer a threat. I then turned my attention to the other gunman who was no longer on the floor. He reached under his jacket presumably for another weapon. I fired again, but the weapon did not discharge. Several more pulls of the trigger yielded nothing but my disbelief and fear. The assassin pulled out a large knife and lunged toward me. I attempted to move out of the path of the man and his weapon, but was unable to do so. The cold steel of the knife forced itself into my left upper chest. The gunman dislodged the knife and was prepared to stab me again. As I lay on my back, I knew I would not survive a second assault. I again asked for God’s forgiveness and to accept my soul in His Kingdom. The assassin smiled smugly and I remember his words to this day: ‘You should have surrendered him. Now you will die for your misplaced loyalty.’ As the gunman reached back with his knife to end my life, semiautomatic gunfire rang out. The mercenary fell backward to the ground in a hail of bullets. He lay motionless as the knife that would have ended my life dropped slowly out of his hand. I managed with some effort to turn around toward the direction of the gunfire. Our friend Harrison was moving toward me.”

      Hannah’s eyes moistened as she better understood Josetta’s friendship with her Harrison. She comprehended clearly now the bond that existed between the holy man and the sinner. They saved the lives of each other risking their own. Yet, Hannah was aware of Josetta’s guilt of serving as the reluctant instigator of violence and death. It must be intolerable for a man of God ordained to protect life, to uplift life and to celebrate life to take it away even under such extraordinary circumstances. Josetta’s personal demon was an ongoing struggle of conscience in his life.

      Hannah stood and moved toward Josetta. She reached out to him. Their hands joined and they held each other firmly. Hannah spoke, “You need your rest, Holy Father. I cannot tell you how much meeting you has meant to me. I understand why Harrison speaks so fondly and genuinely about you. Thank you for reliving a painful part of your past just for me.” Josetta waived his hand as he often did before he spoke and said, “Spia and I have shared much over the years. And now he brings me you. You are much prettier on the eyes than your fiancé—be sure to tell Harrison I said so.” Josetta and Hannah both managed a smile. Hannah spoke, “I will tell him. Meanwhile, you get your rest. I want to meet again when Harrison and I can visit together with you. Your friendship means so much to him.” “And you? You can take care of my Spia knowing what you know and don’t know about him?” said Josetta coyly. They both understood what was said and left unsaid. Hannah replied, “We will all take care of each other.” Josetta afforded a hearty laugh, one of few laughs in the past months, and countered, “You should be a diplomat!” The two growing friends managed a laugh again. Hannah knelt at Josetta’s bedside and spoke, “May the strength of God be with you.” Josetta nodded as he watched Hannah rise and disappear from his sight. He lay back in his bed, coughing once again. Josetta closed his eyes in hopes of securing some needed sleep. He drifted to sleep not knowing if he would awaken again in the physical world, not knowing if he would share in the friendship of Harrison and Hannah.

      Hannah attempted to control the tears swelling in her eyes as she walked down the narrow passageway. As she walked out the corridor, Father Pusniche stood on the other side. Hannah thanked him for his kindness. She could hardly control the wetness in her eyes and quickly walked out of the Vatican. Hannah cried quietly but openly as the noon sun shined directly overhead. Except for the tears, it was a beautiful day in Roma.

Chapter 8

       Going Down

      The uncertain journey from Italy to Washington, D.C. was nearing its end. ‘Hopefully, that will not be prophetic’ Harrison thought to himself. He sat motionlessly in the cockpit as the autopilot sustained the aircraft’s navigation, speed and altitude. Target One has maintained 10,000 feet since its departure from Roma Airport. A thorough search of the private jet revealed no explosive devices—well, at least no explosives on board. Harrison bit his lower lip as he once again considered the possibility of an external detonation. He could not keep the fate of his colleagues from disrupting his thoughts. Would Harrison suffer a similar fate as did Scout and Eagle at 8,000 feet?