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Clement XV, she had maintained a low profile. She avoided the CCTV scanners that appeared at every corner of every intersection, whenever possible. Of those cameras she could not avoid, she merely lowered her head so that the hat’s brim obstructed the cameras view. Big Brother was apparently everywhere, even in Rome.

Even though the plane from the United States had been delayed by two hours, she was a patient woman. And as it taxied on the runway and to the gate, she released a collective sigh. Her team had finally arrived.

Once they went through the security and passport stations, four men, all with bulked-up bodies, met the woman at the gate. Though she was dwarfed by their sizes, she stood amongst them as a giant, nevertheless.

As soon as they entered an awaiting SUV whose rear seating section was cordoned off from the front seat by a Plexiglas panel, the woman pounded the heel of her hand against the pane as a predetermined signal that informed the driver to move.

As soon as the vehicle merged with the traffic, she spoke with a voice made rough by smoking. “Have you all received the e-jackets I sent you on the targeted killing?”

Everyone nodded. They had received the biographical history of Kimball Hayden that had been provided to her by the pontiff, with the data sent from members within his inner circle instead of Vatican Intelligence.

The woman looked over the members of her team who were young, virtuously spirited and had served at least twelve years as special forces operators. For the most part, they had maintained grizzly appearances with unkempt beards and untamed eyes. She also took note of their rings, which were the insignia jewelry of the Nocturnal Saints. Unlike hers, which had a ruby-stone face, theirs had gold lettering on a silver backdrop.

“Kimball Hayden,” she finally said. “Who is no stranger to the Nocturnal Saints.”

An ex-Delta by the name of Carl Mannix cocked his head slightly as though perplexed. “The one who took out your D.C. program?”

She nodded in confirmation.

“So, this is a hit of vendetta rather than a justified separation from the church.”

“No. This is a sanctioned hit.”

“By whom?”

“That matters not,” she told him. “What matters is that Kimball Hayden is an abomination who is in service to the church. It’s clear that such a person is well beyond the reach of the Light, no matter how much he tries to redeem himself.”

Chance Stallworth was an African American and an ex-Seal who performed missions across the globe. His top-tier standing as a military operative within the Nocturnal Saints had placed him at the pinnacle of the order’s military totem pole. “And what about his team?” he asked her.

“Not a factor. Kimball Hayden is the primary target since his past crimes are unforgiveable. His membership to the church is nothing short of blasphemy.”

“And yet the church sees him as an asset given his past history?” This came from an ex-Army Ranger by the name of Shonn McKinley, who was also a martial-arts specialist who had a number of belts and dans attached to his name.

The woman nodded. “He was chosen by another to serve the church. But the man continues to be wayward with his mark continuing to be a stain to the values of the institution. Our handler believes that Kimball Hayden’s full removal from the ranks of the church is necessary in order to purge whatever Darkness remains within the hallways of the Vatican. And I agree. Any man who walks these hallowed corridors after stealing away the lives of innocent women and children is a blight to the religion, not a minister to it.”

The woman’s personal viewpoints were made clear: there would be no tolerance of this man’s faith, regardless of how much he sought redemption for past sins. There would be no second chances or opportunities to find peace, no future rewards. Kimball Hayden had become a marked man for his past decisions, unforgivable decisions, decisions guided by Darkness. Nor were her diehard perspectives and intolerances unique. It was rather a shared understanding within the order of the Nocturnal Saints that anything less than conservative values would not be accepted. And for those who walk within the Hellfire or on the fringe that borders it, then the answer was clear: terminate those with extreme prejudice and purge the church of burgeoning sin. And was not Kimball Hayden the epitome of burgeoning sin, the one who walks the halls with a soul made black by Satan’s guidance?

“We must also do this without drawing suspicion from the leadership of the Vatican Knights or Vatican Intelligence,” she continued. “The last thing we need is for the Vatican Knights to run interference.”

“Even if they do,” said Dave Bienemy, the second of two ex-SEALs in the team, “we’ll just deal with them.”

“You don’t just deal with the Vatican Knights,” she returned harshly. “And never underestimate your opponent. Believe me, I saw what they can do firsthand. I was there when they took out my D.C. program, all men who were hardened vets like you. All tough and rugged and believing there was no equal. But they were wrong. I was wrong. And I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

“You have an idea?” asked Stallworth. “Something to work with?”

She nodded. “Hayden is in Rome with a woman, a federal agent for the FBI. Our handler believes that she can be used as a pawn to draw him close. If he calls upon his Vatican Knights, then she dies. If he contacts law enforcement, then she dies. If he in any way decides to do anything other than what we tell him, then she dies. She’s the bargaining chip in play here.”

“Is she an innocent?” asked McKinley.

The woman nodded. “No,” she answered. “She’s in league with the devil’s advocate. Her sin is egregious enough because her soul apparently has no moral recognition between right or wrong. And since she knows of his sins and turns a blind eye against them, it is up to

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