THE SILVER BULLET

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CHAPTER 27

6. 30 P.M

BOMBARDIER LEAR JET–85

“Those are my sins, both the ones I have recalled and the ones I couldn’t remember, I ask forgiveness for all,” the Pope said. He is seated across from the Carmelengo, his head bent as he confesses his sins to the Carmelengo.

Bademosi heaves a sigh, “Papa it is not up to me to forgive but the good lord and Allah,” he takes off his stole and dips his hand in his pocket.

The Pope looked on as the Camerlengo took out a voice recorder from his pocket and dangles it in his face.

“You recorded my confession? That’s blasphemy! How could you Francesco,” the Pope asked, a shocked expression on his face.

“Anyway, it won’t matter that much. You would be dead by the time your impunities becomes public,” he sneered.

“You, I trusted you with my life. Come mai?”He asked, exasperated.

“Never mind, change is coming and I am the new instrument of change. It’s what the church has been waiting for, a belief with reason.”

“It’s not possible, you cannot overthrow the church. The Curia…Oh my God!”

“You won’t have to worry about them anymore, and be mindful of terms. This is a revolution and not a coup, a new order, transformation…I can see it coming.”

“You’re a lunatic, Bademosi. Stop this madness right now and come to your senses. Confess this blasphemy and the good Lord will forgive you.”

Bademosi scoffs, pockets the recorder and pulls out a revolver from the pocket of his black cassock. He dipped his hand in the other pocket and got out a silencer.

The Supreme Pontiff is sweating profusely despite the cold air wafting from the private plane’s AC. He clutched his rosary tightly.

Bademosi brought his face close to him.

“That’s exactly what I want to see Papa. I want to see you shiver with fear. I want you to know what horror feels like staring at death in your face, will your rosary save you now.”

He stuck the gun on his neck, tracing it along its length.

“Your hunger for power would lead you to doom, Bademosi. Let’s settle this like brothers.”

He burst out laughing. “Brothers? The only real family I ever had is the Malibu. It’s been exactly twenty-five years since they brought me up from nothing and have been preparing me for this day, now I’ve finally been opportune by divine providence to take what’s mine.”

“But what have I not done for you, Giovanni? I took you like my own brother. I showered you with love, and gave you power. You are even the youngest President of the monetary administrations of the Holy See. You know how the Roman Curia has been on my neck for that but I persevered. All this was not enough for you and this is how you repay me?”

Bademosi rose and continued fixing the silencer on the nozzle of the gun.

“Any last words?”

Elroy comes out from the plane’s toilet from behind him where he had been hiding and points his gun at Bademosi.

“Tu traditore della Santa Madre Chiesa!” The Pope said.

“Hey General junior,” Elroy called from behind him.

Bademosi turns around quickly to shoot him but Elroy is faster and he shoots his leg. He goes down on his knees and points his gun at the pope, it all happened in a flash and a gunshot reverberated in the plane.

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