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Chapter 43

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“You first,” said Cameron.

The priest stepped into the booth and Cameron followed.  As the priest opened the outer door he said, “You and your friend should really reconsider.”

“Should we now.  C’mon let’s go.”

“You are signing your own death warrant.”

The priest stepped out of the confessional booth into the majesty of the cathedral.  Cameron followed him.

“Keep walking,” said Cameron.  He pushed the barrel of the P226 into the small of the priests back and then brought the butt back close to his own waist, shielding the gun under his jacket.  The cathedral looked no different in appearance than the first time Cameron had walked through.  People peppered the pews here and there, sunlight came in through the porticos, and that incense smell, almost nauseating, hung heavy.  Pepe was nowhere to be seen, nor was anyone else that looked odd or suspicious.  The priest led Cameron down the length of the pew and into the center aisle.

“Almost there.  Let’s mosey right out of here,” said Cameron.

The priest began to lead Cameron down the aisle toward the entranceway of the cathedral.  Cameron noticed the priest looking up to the balcony, looking for something or someone.

“Keep it moving,” said Cameron.

The priest suddenly stopped, turned around to face Cameron, and then took a step backward.  “This is your final chance.  There will be no place to hide.  I want her.”

From the balcony over Cameron’s shoulder came a low groan, and then a sniper rifle fell to the floor followed by a newly dead man.

“I don’t think you will find her,” said Cameron.

The priest looked up to the balcony to see Pepe.

Pepe held up an open palm to the priest and bent his fingers in a wave, his thumb holding a bloody Opinel penknife.

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