The Knife That Twists Within

By Stefan Schmidt

Published on Oct 14, 2001

Gay

ANGEL'S TRUMPETS

by Stefan http://stefan680.tripod.com/stefanstories/

Chapter Seven

Rome's Underground

Sebastian nibbled at the unsalted Roman bread and drank a tiny bit of water. Who knew how long it had to suffice. Slowly he really wondered about his crackpot idea to come here. Had he thought that Andrea would wait for them just around the corner? Even worse, he had dragged Roberto into this undertaking and now he was responsible for him. They had reached the second level and actually, sooner or later, they must meet the tunnels that were open for tourists. For a while he listened for noises or sounds but couldn't hear anything yet other than Roberto's and his own laboured breathing.

"Any idea how long Andrea could be here?" he asked Roberto, turning his head.

"Four days I guess. What if he's run out of water? How long can he survive?"

"Four days at most. But he wasn't so stupid to come in here without water, right?" That was more a statement than a question and Roberto didn't respond. He rose to his feet. His torch lit up the walls until he broke into a cheer. "Look, Bastian, here are arrows again!"

Sebastian touched the scratched tuff stone. It was still wet, which meant that it wasn't an old sign. They doubled their efforts to go on, but then, they heard a cracking in the stone and tuff and ducked their heads. But it seemed to be far away. Roberto looked frightened at the high ceilings whose walls were covered with openings to lay the dead bodies to their last sleep. Roberto started to run but stumbled over the uneven ground and fell. He hit his head on one of the stones jutting out of the wall. Sebastian bent over quickly and saw blood at his temple. Roberto was unconscious. Great! Now the fat's in the fire. He opened the first aid kit and took out some gauze, wet it a bit and wiped over the gash. Suddenly he heard a faint hubbub in the distance. A dull trampling, as if a herd of bulls were trampling along the tunnels. He pricked up his ears and tried to locate where the sounds were coming from. Then it was gone. He slapped Roberto's cheeks but he didn't move. Without thinking he lifted Roberto from the ground in his arms and went with him further, leaving the first aid kid behind, only taking both rucksacks with him.

Sebastian had again lost Andrea's arrows because he didn't pay attention anymore. He didn't know how to manage it, with Roberto in his arms and the torch crammed alternately under his arm or between his teeth until he broke down. He panted like a dog. He couldn't go on with this. Roberto's face was extremely pale in the yellow circle of light and his breath was shallow. We all will die here, it flashed through his mind. Perhaps next to a wall where there was rescue.

Despairingly he sat down, Roberto in his lap and bent his head. He must have dozed off then he woke up to the sound of voices. He breathed in the muggy air and couldn't get enough of it. The torch was flickering. Feverishly he searched for Roberto's second torch but he must have forgotten it when Roberto broke down. Sebastian let out a hoarse curse, his lips were chapped and hurt, probably bleeding. It didn't matter of course.

The voices came nearer and went away instantly. With all his remaining strength he tried to call but his throat was so dry that it came out just as a croaky, low shouting that nobody could hear. A last thought went out to Kay when he closed his eyes again. It could have been so wonderful with him . . . He conjured his face before his inner eye, the once blond dyed hair when he first met him, the reckless laughter, the small blue tattooed ring snaking around his arm. Everything merged together . . . Marcus, Nicholas, his house and the plans he had had for his life.

Rome's Underground

"Jesus Christ, Sebastian really thinks he can do everything on his own," Marcus cursed.

"Yeah, that's him." Kay said behind him. "A real madcap. Now, let's go there. We're the last ones."

They had attached themselves to a guided group of tourists at the catacombs of San Sebastiano. They had made the stop at George's house, found Andrea's note upon the kitchen table and knew now that their presumptions had been right. Marcus didn't want Nicholas to go with them and had a little fight with him and he had received a snap from his young lover that he would treat him always like a little child. Surprised, Marcus had to agree but was pretty apprehensive that he was two steps ahead now, illuminating the way with his torch although it wasn't needed. For now they had light from the small wall and ceiling lamps, but it was a murky sight.

He imagined himself in Sebastian's shoes. Surely he would follow the signs Andrea had probably made into the stone and from George's house to the entrance of the catacombs wasn't a real long distance. Perhaps one and a half kilometres. But the net of the tunnels was much broader. If they were not back by the evening, Daniel and Leandro would sound the alarm.

Marcus' watch told him that they had gone on now for over an hour. The spare light of the ceiling had vanished because this part of the catacombs wasn't in use. He feared that some of the walls would break in, or the ceiling, but it looked stable enough. Then Nicholas remained still abruptly.

"Have you heard something?" Marcus and Kay listened. There was a faint knocking on stones. Or was it just imagination? Or the sound coming from the tourist groups? They were too far away actually.

Nicholas shone his light into a tunnel where the sound came from. He made a few steps into it and went around a corner. Marcus started to sweat more than he had ever sweated in his whole life. "Nick, where are you?" He followed him, Kay in tow. A large heap of stones blocked the way, apparently it was broken off from the ceiling.

"What . . ."

"Sshhhh!" Nicholas listened and then the others heard it too. There was a scratching on stones and a whimper.

"Sebastian?" Marcus called. And then a voice answered them. But it didn't sound like Sebastian.

Kay was already pushing back the stones and sand; the tuff stone was wet and touch, he was incessantly calling for Sebastian. They shoved aside the stones like a mole would have done, until their hands were bleeding. "Bloody hell, watch your hands, Nick." Marcus shouted, but he himself didn't care about that for the moment. On the other side it had gotten silent so they doubled their efforts. It was difficult to move the stones but then they had made a small hole and Kay shone his torch through it. "That's Andrea!" he called out to them.

Marcus and Nick looked at each other. And where was Sebastian?

"Where's Sebastian?" Kay asked him breathless, but Andrea was too weak to give any intelligent answer. He still had his empty water bottle beside him; his throat was too sore to speak. He had lost consciousness somewhere and then the rumble of the breaking stones had awakened him. He was trapped because there was no way out backwards.

Marcus gave him some of his water and wiped his dirty face with his hanky. "Have you seen Sebastian?"

Andrea blinked. "Bastian?" he croaked and shook his head. He moved his lips and Marcus bent down near his mouth to understand him better. "Wrote letter to Roberto", was all that he could understand. "Roberto must . . . be here . . ." He closed his eyes. Marcus gave him more water.

"We found your letter too, but Sebastian must be with Roberto then. Probably Roberto was the mysterious caller."

Nicholas had sat down on the ground and leaned back on the wall, next to Kay. Kay had buried his head into his palms. Nicholas thought he heard him sob. Soothingly he pressed a hand upon his back and pulled him closer. "We'll find him, we'll find him."

"Are you strong enough to walk with us?" Marcus asked Andrea and tried to pull him to his feet. "It's just about an hour to the exit."

Andrea's legs wobbled but he nodded. Kay looked amazed at Marcus. "And Sebastian?"

"You both follow the signs I've made and I'm searching on."

"No way, Marcus," Nicholas said furiously; "I won't leave you here alone, have you lost your marbles?"

A dragging sound was heard. It was close. Very close. Kay ran out of the tunnel to the main way and saw a dark figure shuffle along. He looked enormous and seemed deformed to Kay. At first he was frightened, but as he guided his torch light over it he saw Sebastian, upon his back Roberto, whose feet and boots were trailing over the ground.

Subterraneous basilica of San Sebastiano

Sebastian insisted on carrying Roberto although he could barely stand on his own feet. Andrea was much too weak to be any help. At one point Sebastian had to give up and handed over Roberto's unconscious body to Marcus. Nicholas and Kay carried their bags and the torches. Nobody spoke, not even Kay who had to support Sebastian from time to time and gave him water from his bottle. He hadn't thought that it would have been so serious and still his mind refused to believe that they all could have ended up dying.

Then the lights started again and they knew it wasn't far to the exit anymore. They emerged in the remains of an subterranean church room, very dimly lighted by a petrol lamp standing in front of a bronze bust that showed the handsome face of a young man. There stood some old benches around. Sebastian remembered that here was the place where the guides held their first speech to the tourist groups to explain the meaning of the catacombs. They all sat down to rest a little before the steps started that would bring them up to the surface. It was stuffy and cold and Sebastian shivered. Kay was holding his hands, Marcus softly slapped Roberto's cheeks and his eyes fluttered. He was still bleeding. Andrea was sitting beside them and stroked Roberto's hair.

Suddenly Kay turned his head. He thought he had heard a sound coming from the darkness that was in the farthest distance. A muffled knocking on walls mingled with faint animal sounds. Rats he thought or even worse. But then he heard it again and, looking at Nicholas, who had heard it too. Together they went over, guided their lights over the walls until they detected a line that was carved into the tuff.

"Looks like a door. Look, here are small hinges", Nick whispered. "Marcus? Can you come over?"

Marcus' hands slid over the reddish-brown stone. He flinched when the sound was there again.

"Perhaps that's the ghost of the catacombs", Kay joked unhappily. "Or probably a man still alive after they buried him here."

Marcus shushed him. He had found a small hole, poked his finger into it and tugged at the wall. It squeaked. Marcus rattled now and earth fell upon him from the ceiling. All three jumped back but a small crack had opened. Cautiously Marcus took Nick's torch and guided the light into the space. There was nothing at first, just darkness, torn apart from the circle of light. A little bat flew squealing along their faces and Kay choked. Walls, neatly white washed. A curtain and some furniture, chests. A faint whimpering. A bedstead. Clothes. A candle. A cup and a plate. An unbearable stench of urine.

Then a figure that moved. Marcus took a step, then two and finally he walked up to the bed and illuminated a face that was haggard, bearded and had feverish, big eyes. The honey coloured hair was glued to his head, although somebody must had made the effort to comb it. George Rosenstock. His fist still leaned against the wall; probably he had heard their voices and tried to attract them.

Marcus detected even a pot of water and a wet cloth beside him.

"For heaven's sake", Marcus whispered. "What happened to you George?" He bent over and filled the cup with water. He held it to George's lips and he drank hastily, spilling most of it, the rest ran over his dry lips.

George blinked. It was long ago since he had seen a light that was brighter than the small candle his visitor had always left beside his bed. He yearned for the hot tea he had always gotten.

"Tea", he whispered.

"What?"

"He wants tea", Nicholas said by his side. He had taken Marcus' arm and clutched it tightly.

"What happened to you?" Marcus repeated.

"Who are you?"

"It's me, Marcus Weidenbruch."

Sebastian had entered the small chamber too. On his face was painted disgust and compassion. "Andrea?" he shouted. "We've found George. He's still alive." At least for now, he added in his mind. The nightly visitor at Via Appia 34 must have taken him with him. Probably for his private pleasure or for curiosity of watching a man dying of starvation or whatever. Sebastian felt sick. Very sick. He fought against the urge to vomit right here and now and turned away.

San Sebastiano at catacumbas

Nicholas sat dumbfounded on one of the church benches. George, Roberto, Andrea and Sebastian had been brought into the office where they were receiving first aid, Marcus and Kay accompanied them. His eyes which were gleaming through the layer of dirt upon his face touched the interior of the church house without seeing anything. They were berated heavily to walk there without any permission but the state the four men were in had quickly made forgotten the dangerous situation they brought themselves into.

Nicholas sighed and stood up. He inspected his bloody hands, the nails were torn and dirty; his trousers frayed. He needed a wash himself. Absentmindedly, he walked over to a tomb behind a trellis work. A white marble figure of the dead martyr Sebastian was laying there, pierced with arrows. He was beautiful but Nicholas had no sense for it right now. He saw the carved statue laying relaxed and dead upon his marble bed and matched it instantly with the still living Sebastian. He didn't know what Kay or Marcus would have done if Sebastian would have died. And he himself, too.

The he remembered that Marcus had given him his mobil phone to call Daniel. So he pulled it out and dialed Sebastian's house.

Gianicolo

Sebastian recovered relatively quickly but George, Andrea and Roberto had to stay in hospital. Andrea suffered from dehydration and Roberto had received a concussion. George had lost his memory the docs said, and was in a very poor state of health.

Somehow the journalists of the yellow press had gotten wind of it and Sebastian's phone didn't stand still.

"Isn't it great to be a person of public interest?" Kay teased him next morning. Sebastian shot him a sinister look. "Staggering", he growled.

"You're a hero now."

"Yeah, from a killer to a hero. I don't see any heroic things. It was stupid and if you hadn't come to rescue me . . .

Kay stuck out his tongue and Sebastian smiled. He hadn't told Kay about his real feelings when he had quasi completed with his life, regretting to no end that he never told him that he loved him. But here and now he dragged Kay closer and pulled the bedclothes over their bodies. "I've never told you what you mean to me, sweetie", he whispered, listening to his own heartbeat. "I do love you."

To his surprise Kay neither moved nor giggled. "I know", he said simply after a while. He brushed Sebastian's sandy hair out of his eyes. "I've waited long to hear that, you know."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. Right from the very day we met. But then . . ."

"But then?"

"Then you fell in love with Nicki."

"I didn't fall in love with Nicki", Sebastian protested.

"No?"

"No. Or have you fallen in love with Daniel? You've spent a night with him."

"Oh well. . ." Kay knew that Sebastian was right, although the relationship of Nicholas and Sebastian was a bit different. They had known each other longer and the attraction had grown.

"Don't speak about Nicki or Danny. It's over." He searched for approval in Sebastian's glistening grey-green eyes. "I'd almost lost you." He brought his lips near to Sebastian's ear. "I love you more."

"No, you don't, that's impossible", Sebastian snorted and started a little fight under the bed cover and then he finally heard Kay's familiar giggle.

Fourty Seven

Vincenzo had tried to contact Leandro but he wasn't at his work place for two days. His colleague had said that he had taken two days of holidays because of family matters. But Vincenzo didn't dare to show up at Sebastian's house, so he hoped to meet him at Camillo's "Fourty Seven". It was Friday night and something special hung in the air.

The club was air-conditioned - a relief after the day's heat. Sometimes Vincenzo wished himself back to the town high above the ground where a cool wind was always blowing, might the day be hot as it wanted. But returning would mean returning to Lena, his wife.

He caught a look from a man sitting on a stool at the bar. He was balding, although he still seemed to be young. Vincenzo felt a tingle under his skin. He wasn't sure if there were darkrooms here. Perhaps he would find out. He smiled at the balding head and received a wink and a nod to come over. Vincenzo climbed the stool and smiled again.

"Want a drink?" he asked with a pleasant tenor voice. Vincenzo nodded.

"New here?"

"Yes, I used to visit Luigi's Bar."

"Bad story about that, don't you think? I'm Cornelius."

"Vincenzo." He received his drink from the barkeeper, Ginger Ale. He hated Ginger Ale, but he gulped it bravely. "Have you ever been at Luigi's?" he asked then.

"Sure, too bad it's closed for good. Tasso was an eye catcher." He wiped over his head. "Occasionally I perform myself. I'm here to watch this location. Do you know Camillo per chance?"

"No. I told you I'm the first time here. But if you'd speak to Tasso perhaps he could put a good word for you."

Cornelius grinned. Vincenzo saw dazzling white teeth, fresh from the dentist, and grinned too. Then he swung around on his stool to watch the guests. Mixed audience like at Luigi's Bar. He tried to keep an eye on the entrance but the later is was getting the more people streamed into the bar. So far no sign of Leandro though. Vincenzo sighed.

"The strippers are pretty good", he heard Cornelius say.

"Oh yes, I've seen them. They've found a new engagement here." He finished his Ginger Ale and choked on the last drops. He had seen Leandro enter the rooms, accompanied with Daniel. Damn, still that auburn haired, strong man. He couldn't risk a fight with him, Daniel would easily take him for a ride.

Cornelius held a package of cigarettes under this nose and Vincenzo took one. He took a deep breath and started to cough. Cornelius laughed. "What are you so nervous about, eh?" He looked him up and down. "Country bumpkin?"

"Huh?"

"I mean if you come from the villages."

Vincenzo looked haughtily. "Do I look like a nitwit?" Then he saw the twinkle in Cornelius' eyes. "Sorry about that. I'm sure we Romans must make a terrible impression."

"Right." Vincenzo held his cigarette that clumsily that the ashes burnt a hole in his white trousers. He cursed.

Cornelius took the cigarette gently from his hand. "Why haven't you told me that you don't smoke. You don't have to be nervous."

Vincenzo turned fully to the young man. "All right. I just waited for a friend."

Cornelius raised his brows. "Friend or boyfriend?"

"Hm." Vincenzo shrugged his shoulders. "Ex-boyfriend I'd say."

"I see. Where do you come from then?"

"Volterra."

"Never been there. That's Tuscany, right? Beautiful landscape, I used to spend my holidays there several times."

"I own a tobacco shop there," Vincenzo bit his lips. He surely owned the shop but if he would go back to submit his divorce . . . And what made him think this right now? Since Leandro had obviously decided to stay with Daniel there wasn't a chance for him. There were other guys too, like Cornelius for instance, just waiting for Mr. Right, like himself. He gazed at the other man; from the black, balding hair, to the dark eyes, over the lean body to the big hands and feet.

"Are you alone here?"

Cornelius nodded and inhaled the smoke from his cigarette. He saw somebody tapping on Vincenzo's shoulder from behind. A pretty handsome young man with dark hair and golden spots. Vincenzo whirled around. "There you are finally" he said, glancing at Daniel beside him. "You had family problems I've heard?"

"Yeah, so to say. Everything is all right now. But what are you doing here?" A sideways look touched Cornelius. He nodded. "Well, I don't want to disturb you. Um, when are you going back to Volterra?"

Vincenzo looked as though he had been hit with a cudgel. "Not yet. Does this mean. . . does this mean. . ." He stared at Daniel and Leandro nodded. He bent over and whispered "Did the Cardinal show up?"

"Borghese?" Vincenzo's eyes widened. "It's Friday, the big day, holy cow. I've forgotten about your plan. So will you carry this through?"

"Yes. If he will come, yes."

"You want to go with him into the dark rooms to play the bait? Are there dark rooms here?" He turned round to Cornelius who nodded.

"Jesus Christ. Watch out for yourself. I'm beside you when you need help."

Daniel nudged Leandro. Cardinal Gianluca had just entered the room along with a rush of other guys. He dragged him aside.

"What was this about?" Cornelius asked. He had finished his cigarette and was sipping at his Ginger Ale now.

"Oh, just a private matter."

"Bullocks, you were talking about a cardinal!"

Vincenzo was reserved again. He didn't know this Cornelius and in fact, the murderer could be anybody. "Why does it bother you." He watched Cardinal Borghese from the corner of his eyes. He came straight in their direction, leaned against the bar and looked expectantly to the stage where the strippers were announced. He looked as casual as he could; surprisingly firm in his blue jeans and shirt. Vincenzo saw Cornelius staring at him. "No word from you, ok?"

Cornelius nodded. "When are you going back to Volterra then?" he asked. Are you just doing holidays? Your ex-boyfriend seems to be lost for you."

Vincenzo was taken aback by the bluntness of his statement. "Seems so indeed."

The strippers had been welcomed with a loud cheering and soon their action started. Vincenzo remembered the night when he had been with Sascha, first their dancing, then their making out in the toilet and finally the dark room. He saw Nando, Sascha's brother, dropping the little bit of clothes he wore until he was naked, involved now in a sensuous play with his colleagues.

Leandro and Daniel watched their performance from aside, constantly keeping an eye on the cardinal who was shifting from one foot to the other, the bulge in his jeans clearly visible.

"He seems to be ready", Daniel whispered. As the final curtain fell he said, "It's show time."

Nando had given both a silent sign, that he and his colleagues were ready to start the game. They would wait in one of the dark rooms for Leandro.

Vincenzo suddenly showed up at their side. "Can I help you?"

Daniel looked surprised. "Yes you can. Follow me and wait at the exit with me. He shouldn't have a chance to escape then." He turned to Leandro and pulled him close. "Watch yourself, honey. See you in half an hour." He pressed his lips upon Leandro's and gave him a resounding kiss. A long glance and he pushed Leandro in the direction of the bar. Then he dragged Vincenzo with him.

"Glad you could make it, your Eminence." Gianluca's cheeks glowed from what he had just seen. The poison of the Angel's Trumpets coursed through his veins and his view was sort of blurred. He focused his gaze upon the young man of his nightly desires. He looked ravishing tonight. Gianluca almost lost it but he pulled himself together as well as he could.

"Hello Leandro. How's it going?"

Leandro was surprised by the casual tone. Gianluca's pupils were widened and upon his skin was a thin film of sweat. Leandro felt sick when he thought about the next step. Slowly he raised his hands to the neckline of Gianluca's shirt. A thick patch of hairs peered out. He played with them although his fingers were burning by this touch. "Have you something in mind, cardinal?"

"Call me Gianluca", he answered huskily. The film of sweat formed into thick droplets although it wasn't hot in here. The dance floor was filled with pairs, dancing together or alone and the loud music droned in his ears. He felt Gianluca's eyes all over his body, followed by his hands, that fumbled at is butt and brushed the side of his leg. He felt really sick. Gianluca stared at the entrance to the corridor which led to the dark rooms. His body radiated heat. Unexpectedly he grabbed Leandro's hand and pulled him with him.

Cornelius had watched in awe. Something was going on here. . . Very slowly he followed.

Leandro opened the door to the room at the far end of the corridor. He knew or hoped that Nando and Christian were waiting for him there, well hidden behind a screen at the window. They had made sure that there was a candle already burning for a better sight, Leandro breathed out, relieved.

Soon as Gianluca had closed the door he was all over Leandro, holding him tight and his hands roamed over his body. He didn't give him time to think, in a jiffy the buttons of his shirt popped off to the ground, his trousers followed and he was naked.

Gianluca fought with his own shoes and trousers he dropped and stood there with a huge tent in his boxer shorts. Leandro's mind was racing. He felt nausea rising when Gianluca pushed him upon the bed, pulling out something rustling from his jeans pocket and dropped it to the ground. Then he ripped off his boxers and Leandro's nausea grew. That was the most humongus tool he had ever seen in his life and his body jerked involuntarily just by the mere thought that it could enter him.

It was absolutely silent in the room, there were just Gianluca's and his own laboured breath. "Now, my boy, let's have some fun. I'm sure you've never seen that before." Gianluca giggled scarily. It sounded hollow and high pitched from lust.

In the corner behind the screen Nando jumped. That was the voice he had heard several times. High pitched from lust. He peered around the corner to have a look. Yes, that was it. The monstrosity. He tried to make out the thing that was laying on the ground next to the bed, a patch of white, but couldn't see it good enough. Gianluca's body flung upon Leandro's and he was getting nervous. Then the image of his brother shot through his mind. He had also been laying helpless under the weight of this body and couldn't free himself. He gave Christian a silent sign to get ready.

Leandro whimpered when Gianluca's tongue lapped his body. The huge cock slapped against his thighs and a sharp stench of sweat and desire stung his nose. His hands made involuntary defending movement but the cardinal didn't seem to notice. He breathed through his nose like a bull out of control. Soon, very soon he would feel the tip of that cock against his entrance. Nando should hurry up! Now he was busy with ministering to Leandro's balls, the long shaft rubbing against the inner side of his thigh, smearing it with its slimy lube; he bucked frantically and couldn't hold back.

Leandro heard a loud cry and felt sprayed with a hot liquid all over his abdomen. His stomach heaved.

Gianluca lay motionless for a moment. That wasn't planned he cursed, but then he lifted his head and smirked. There was nothing that couldn't rise again. He looked at the body beneath his own, trapped between his arms, saw the shock in those eyes and he covered his lips with a gush of spittle and pushed his tongue between them, to open the mouth.

Leandro gagged. Gianluca giggled. He felt his cock risen again. Good boy. Slowly he crept to his knees and lined it up with Leandro's entrance. At the same time he groped for the plastic bag he had dropped beside the bed. Soon, my boy you will receive the most earth shattering climax you have ever received. Your first and your last one.

Gianluca laughed now. Too bad he wouldn't have a picture of this. Such a beautiful boy and bound to die now. At the same moment the flash lights started. Gianluca couldn't decide if this was happening in his head or in reality. Another lightening. He screwed his eyes up. Leandro's scared face was clearly visible for a brief moment. He held the plastic bag and tried to unfold and open it when he felt two strong hands around his arms

"Enough, cardinal. Stand up." A sharp voice sounded through the room.

Dumbfounded he held still. Strong arms dragged him from the bed. Leandro closed his legs and curled himself together. Then he couldn't hold it anymore. His stomach heaved with the urge to vomit. He bent over the bed and let it come.

Christian tossed him a hanky and his trousers while Nando held Gianluca tight. The cardinal's muscles had gone limp. He still hadn't realized what was going on here.

"The police will be highly interested in the photos, cardinal." Nando spat out the words. "How about a good fucking session with you now?"

He pushed Gianluca onto the bed, brought him to his knees and ripped down his own jeans.

"No! " Leandro screamed. "What're you doing? Stop it."

Nando glared at him hatefully. "Do the same what he did to my brother." He turned and bent his body over the quavering cardinal. Leandro had put on his jeans and tried to pull Nando away. It was that moment when Gianluca found his guts again. He rose unexpectedly, jumped from the bed and was behind Leandro. He wrapped his arm around Leandro's neck, strangling the windpipe and conjured a pistol from under the pillow.

Neither Nando nor Christian had noticed that he had hidden it there. Gianluca giggled. Actually the bullet from his gun was intended for himself. Now it would be for another one. He pressed the muzzle against Leandro's head and rasped "Out of the way."

He hesitated a moment. "Give me your clothes." His pistol pointed to Nando.

Nando's hands trembled. Holy shit, holy shit, he thought. How could this happen? He undressed as quick as he could and tossed Gianluca his clothes. Gianluca hopped around to get into the trousers, all the time threatening Leandro with his gun he had held tightly against the area of his kidneys. He didn't bother with the shirt or the shoes. He pushed Leandro through the door and locked the room from outside.

"One move and you're a dead man." He had slung Nando's shirt around the pistol. Leandro felt the cold muzzle in his back. Daniel would wait outside he thought and perhaps Vincenzo. But what could they do?

He saw a young, balding man hanging around against one of the walls. That was the guy Vincenzo was sitting with. Cornelius made big eyes when he saw the state Leandro was in. Leandro tried to give him a sign, but Cornelius looked bewildered. But he followed them.

They passed the room and the dance floor without Leandro having a chance to get rid of Gianluca. What could he do anyway? Gianluca was mad enough to start a massacre here.

Both exited the bar and Leandro saw Daniel standing beside the entrance. On the other side he detected Vincenzo. He saw how Daniel flexed all his muscles to jump. "No, Danny. Stay where you are!"

Gianluca grinned distorted. He lifted the shirt for a brief moment and Daniel saw the shaft of a pistol gleaming in the moonlight. Suddenly Leandro felt a punch and Gianluca started to run with him towards a car parked at the curb. He tore open the door, pushed Leandro inside and drove away with screeching tyres. In the rear view mirror he saw how Daniel and Vincenzo jumped into Sebastian's red Fiat and followed along the street that led towards Capitol Hill.

Capitol Hill

Leandro wiped his face. He still had the obnoxious taste of vomit in his mouth. Gianluca, next to him, still grinned. It was as if this grin had been carved into his face now for all time. This was a showdown as he liked it.

Nobody, absolutely nobody could stop him now. He too had seen the Fiat behind them, but they wouldn't dare to step out and start a fight. Not with that weapon of his.

Gianluca turned into the Piazza Venezia; the white marble building of the National Altar towered above them. He turned left and passed the only passage that was intended for cars, leading up to the Capitol, leaving the Mamertine Dungeon behind. He crossed the place in front of the capitol and stopped the engine. Then he opened the door and dragged Leandro out, his gun still pointing at his body. Leandro said his last prayer. If he was bound to die here and now he would have led a good life.

He saw the red Fiat arriving at the place, but the doors didn't open. The silhouettes of Daniel and Vincenzo were dark against the dull light from the lanterns. Gianluca laughed out loud.

"Come on out, you clever guys!" he shouted and still laughed. Then he pushed Leandro forward, between the Capitol building and the museum, through a tight passage between shrubs and bushes and small trees.

Leandro recognized it as the place of the Jupiter Temple. Sebastian and his colleagues had set free the base of the temple two years ago. They were protected with wires, but Gianluca dragged him further.

They reached the edge of the museum's building. To the left hand he had a free view down to the Forum Romanum, softly illuminated. In the far distance he could see the Colosseo. And then he knew where he was. It was the Tarpeian Rock.

His memory flashed back to the very first day when he had arrived in Rome. George had stalked him, mentioning the place for hustlers high above here. But at this midnight hour the place was deserted. Gianluca stopped him.

In front of them was a fence that was torn, under the small trees were strewn cigarette boxes, tissues and used condoms. The fence had bulges and was torn partly and Leandro started to hyperventilate. The Trapeian Rock was a steep rock reaching from the Capitol Hill down to the Forum Romanum. A good way to fly down . . . .

He heard Gianluca's disrupted breath in his neck. "Now, my pretty boy, let's finish what we have started. Your friends there can't help you." And soon he fumbled at Leandro's zipper. "It's soft here, and I will be gentle, I promise."

Again his voice was high pitched. Leandro started to fight. He rammed his elbow into Gianluca's bowels when he heard rash steps behind them. Daniel! he thought relieved but Cardinal Borghese swung around and held his gun outstretched. "Do not move further."

Leandro turned around. It was Vincenzo! But where was Daniel? From the other side, hidden in the shadows of the museum's building he heard a sound of shoes, rustling over branches. Vincenzo lifted his arms high in the air. Then he lost his nerve, turned around and vanished into darkness.

Gianluca laughed again. It shrilled terrible in Leandro's ears. He unbuttoned his jeans and then the zipper. The elephantine cock sprang out. "Let the fun begin, pretty boy."

But then there was a panther like shadow that sprang out of the dark. It pulled Gianluca down to the ground, and Leandro fell with them. He couldn't make out the tangle and stared fixedly upon both men fighting. They rolled around the uneven ground, between bushes and approached dangerously near the abyss. Leandro tried to drag at Gianluca's hair, kicked him with his bare feet and searched for a stone.

A loud bang tore the night. "Daniel!" Leandro shouted. He saw Daniel's arm bloody and started to scream. But Daniel hadn't noticed the pain, not yet. With all his strength he tried to shove and push Gianluca's body near the abyss. Centimeter by centimeter he succeeded, Leandro was helping him. Then Gianluca hung just with one arm and hand, dangling back and forth, and cried for help.

Daniel rose to his feet, swaying. He stared down at Cardinal Gianluca Borghese-Caffarelli whose face was ash grey and the sweat poured down in streams.

"Help me, I can't hold on longer!"

Daniel and Leandro looked at each other. It was that moment when they missed the gun, Gianluca was lifting. He had clutched the shaft during their fight.

"Watch out!" Daniel screamed. Leandro made a quick movement and trampled with all his might upon Gianluca's fingers who held tightly to the stones.

With a loud cry, Gianluca fell. They heard a thud and closed their eyes.

From the distance the wailing of sirens sounded. Daniel took Leandro by the naked shoulders and went with him slowly backwards to the large place in front of the Capitol. He was bleeding incessantly but he didn't care. All that was important was Leandro.

-- More to follow --

Next: Chapter 45: Angels Trumpets 8


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