Confess!

The crowds that had long been waiting to attend the All Saints' Day Mass began flooding into the square before St. Peter's Basilica like a rising tide.

Schmitz tossed aside the newspaper. Instead of squeezing into the surging crowd, he turned and headed for the side entrance on the south side of the basilica.

At the door, several Swiss Guards stopped him and shouted:

"Stop! You cannot enter here."

As an Austrian, Schmitz could barely understand Italian. He immediately took a folded identification document from his pocket and handed it over.

"I was sent by Deacon Ercole to handle something and returned late. You must let me in—I am to hold a candlestick during today's Mass. Oh, third row, fifth column."

He spoke in Latin.

He had never imagined that something he had learned from aristocratic education since childhood would one day prove useful.

A Guard captain looked over his clerical robe, carefully inspected the document, then had his men give him a brief pat-down before allowing him into the church.

Schmitz walked down the corridor with his head lowered, breathing a sigh of relief. Thank God, those people did not lie to me. This thing really works!

The scene of meeting Domenico in that little tavern that day surfaced in his mind. He had been the first member of the "organization" Schmitz had come into contact with.

Schmitz had initially intended only to confront the Pope in person and demand to know why he had betrayed the Crusaders, but that "organization" had offered him a more "direct" option.

A radical organization that claimed it would restore the Holy See's prestige.

They were dissatisfied with the Pope's cowardice.

They mocked the Pope for buying his way into office.

They fiercely condemned the Pope for not daring to recognize Poland's Holy