The Iscariot Agenda by Rick Jones Read Free Book Online Page A

people cannot be reached, Kimball, no matter how hard you try. And I’m saying this child is too far gone.”
    “And I’m saying he’s not.”
    There was a silent moment between them.
    “Despite what I think,” said Vessucci, “you’re not going to budge, are you?”
    Kimball nodded. “Not on this little guy. No. All I ask is that you give me the opportunity to be this mentor, his guide, and I guarantee you he will become one of the best Vatican Knights the pope could ever hope for.”
    “That’s a lofty goal, Kimball, considering what you have to work with. It takes more than you realize to reach a child on an emotional and psychological level if they’re too far gone.”
    “If nothing else, then we at least gave a child-in-need an opportunity for something better than what he has right now—and that isn’t much.”
    It was something the cardinal couldn’t refute or deny. “Touché. But all I ask is this: Are you sure it has to be this one, when there are so many more with the same need for salvation?”    
    Kimball nodded and pointed at the child. “It has to be him.”
    The cardinal saw the conviction in Kimball, the obsessive need for Kimball to commit to the boy, and then faced the child who sat alone. “Then we will call him . . . Ezekiel. ”
     
    “Kimball?” The Monsignor dashed his third cigarette out in the ashtray. “You’re basically saying that you tried to save this boy as—how shall we say—redemption for taking the lives of those boys in Iraq?”
    “I didn’t say that.”
    “But your actions are.”
    “If that’s the way you want to see it, then go for it.”
    “Then tell me. Why this particular child when Cardinal Vessucci was so adamant against it?”
    “I have my reasons.”
    “Would you like to expound?”
    “Expound?”
    The Monsignor gestured with his hands. “To develop or explain more in detail.”
    “Then why didn’t you just say that?”
    “Would you like to expound?”
    “No.”
    “Then tell me about Ezekiel, now that he’s a man.”
    Kimball hesitated while the Monsignor reached for another smoke, and then. “I reached him as I knew I would, and he became solid.”
    “Solid?”
    Kimball moved his hands in mock gesture imitating the Monsignor. “To develop a person until he is pure, unadulterated, genuine.”
    The Monsignor smiled. “Then why didn’t you just say that?”
    Kimball returned the smile.
    “Time’s up, I’m afraid,” said the Monsignor. “Next week we’ll take up where we left off, with Ezekiel.”
    “There’s not much to say about him other than he turned out to be one of the best in the league of the Vatican Knights.”
    “Not about him as a person, but what his redemption means on a psychological level.”
    Kimball stood and offered his hand, but the Monsignor refused it, smiling congenially. “You almost crushed my hand the last time. I don’t have to be slapped twice to learn my lesson.”
    As Kimball lowered his hand a feeble knock sounded off the thick wooden door that was pieced together with black iron bands and rivets, an ersatz design of medieval times.
    When the Monsignor opened the door in invitation, a bishop stood at the threshold with his hands hidden beneath the sleeves.
    “I’m terribly sorry to disturb you, Monsignor, but the pontiff has requested the presence of Mr. Hayden. He said it was quite urgent and that he was to be summoned to the pontiff’s chamber.”
    “That’s quite all right,” he returned. “We just finished our session.”
    The Monsignor held the door wide and gestured his hand in a way of showing Kimball the way out. “Next week, Kimball, and I know I say this all the time but you continue to do this anyway, but please don’t be late.”
    “I’ll be here at the top of the hour, Doc.”
    The Monsignor sighed. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
     

 
     
     
    CHAPTER EIGHT
     
    The pope’s chamber was laden with veined-marble flooring that shined like the surface of ice, and