Vatican City: Here we come!

There’s a knock on my door. Giuseppe opens the door. Instead of the usual one pillow getting chucked at him for waking me, he gets two. I feel bad….the poor man. He’s doing the job I pay him well for so I shouldn’t feel too bad for him.

“’Sup, ‘Seppe?” I ask him as he’s rolling his eyes. “Hey, boss. Go see your wife, ok?? I’ll give you a heads up of when I, we, need your services again. The Italian flight crew will put this baby to bed….they don’t do as good of a job as you do, but then again, I don’t pay them!”

Giuseppe laughs at my silliness, knowing I need to crack a joke to lighten up.

“Margherita,” Giuseppe calls me by the Italian version of my name as he hugs me. “Why did your Italian mother allow you to have the French version of your name? I’ll never know. I pray that you stay safe on this case. Your husband needs you but so does your little one.”

I stare at him. I don’t know what he’s thinking but each cabin is sound proof so I have no idea how he knows what Vinnie and I did but then again, everyone on board knows we just got married….so there’s nothing to imagine. It’s now my turn to roll my eyes. I promise him that I’ll be as safe as I can, making no guarantees. Last time “Seppe” was with me, I had a bullet get lodged in me.

“My love,” I say to Vinnie. “I know that you are concerned about your uncle and how he’s doing. I promise you’ll get to see him soon. But before either of us go see him, I need to get wires on the both of us. He may tell us two different things. He’s more likely to tell me the facts and with you, he’d play down the injuries he sustained. I want to talk to him first to see what he can tell me before you speak with him. I know that you want to come with me but right now, I would like you to assist Mom and Donny in finding rooms. Il Camerlango will show you guys where to go.

How you see me now is nervous energy and being more scared than I need to. I have three people who aren’t professionals but people I dearly love and can’t live without. When I’m officially working, which will happen after speaking with Il Papa, I will be a person you don’t know. I am demanding, tough, occasionally rude. Are you familiar with: “Sergente Militare”? I get called “Drill Sergeant”. I want to let you know that I’m not going to show any preferential treatment to you, Mom or Donny. You guys are my family but I can’t show any favoritism.  Mom and Donny have already seen me when Quantico has its training and graduation. I am much harder on these guys than I am on the recruits in my classes – one infraction, no matter how small – they get kicked off the team either temporarily or permanently. When I am Sergente Militare, please don’t be offended with how I treat you.

Please know that my love for you and our marriage is far more important than this case. I know it doesn’t seem like that at the moment, I know. IF I get to end this case alive, I’m retiring from the field work. I may have to go the office but I’m never going to be Lead on a case again. It’s too much of a risk for the both of us and for our future family”.

Vinnie wraps me in his arms again. I wish we could’ve come to Italy when it didn’t have to involve a case. There’s a gentle knock on the door knowing that it’s Mom. I tell her to come in, Donny follows her in.

”Mags,” Mom says. “It’s time. Giuseppe had Customs come on board so we could get to the Papal Palace faster. They need you, baby girl. Show them Sergente Militare. Tell them: “Io sono di Napoli” and Grampy’s last name.

“Madre,” I say. “They know me already. They call me Sergente Militare to my face. Giuseppe told them that it’s in regards of the pope. The Customs agents fear me already, knowing that I can get them fired faster than they can call their mistresses – which their wives know about

“Ciao, agenti. Benvenuti a bordo del mio jet privato. Ecco il lavoro di ufficio per tutte le armi. Famiglia, si prega di passare i vostri passaporti agli agenti. Essi mettere un timbro all'interno e quando siamo pronti per partire l'aereo, ci daranno i nostri passaporti indietro. Signori, io non ho intenzione di parlare con il tuo capo su come ottenere la mia schiena quando la mia famiglia si loro, posso? Sarebbe un peccato se l'ho fatto perché tutti voi sarebbe senza lavoro, senza un modo per sostenere le vostre mogli, figli, amanti e figli dei vostri amanti '” I tell the agents, looking at Vinne to have him translate for Mom and Donny.

“Mags told the agents: ‘Hello, Agents. Welcome aboard my private jet. Here is the paperwork for all the weapons. Family, please pass your passports to the agents. They will put a stamp inside and when we are ready to depart the plane, they will give us our passports back. Gentlemen, I am not going to speak to your boss about getting mine back when my family gets theirs, do I? It would be a shame if I did because all of you would be out of a job, without a way to support your wives, children, mistresses and your mistresses' children’. Serafina, Donny, please hand over your passports to the agents,” Vinnie translated for me.

Mom and my big brother look at me awe. They are surprised how much of a Sergente Militare I am. They haven’t seen anything like that when I was growing up. Five minutes later, we receive our passports back. I’m the one that gets the dirty look. I laugh. The Italian flight team on board and helps us carry our luggage and weapons off the plain. They go first, then me, then Mom and Donny with Vinnie. As soon as I’m on the tarmac, I see my cousin, Il Camerlango. I screech like a monkey to get his attention. He turns around, I drop my stuff and we run to meet each other.

“John Joseph,” I say to my poor cousin, knowing that he hates his American name (it sounds plain to him). “Fine, Giovanni Giuseppe. Look at you! You look, um, ravishing!”

He laughs at me knowing that I’m partially joking. He knows he’s an attractive man – he has a mistress that the Church doesn’t know about but the pope does. Weird but whatever.

We catch up as I introduce him to my husband of twelve hours. He shakes Vinnie’s hand and welcomes him to the “La Familiga” and greats Mom and Donny, telling Mom that she could pass as my younger sister. Mom laughs and tells him that a priest shouldn’t lie. They laugh.

Giovanni hands me the keys to my custom made military H3. It has tinted windows with slight tinting on the front windshield; it is bullet proof, bomb proof, grenade proof….well, everything proof. Ok, I take that back…it is NOT garlic proof. Garlic, in any amount, is welcomed inside this beast. I swear no matter how much Febreeze we use or how long the beast airs out, the scent of garlic still lingers.

Everyone opens the doors to my H3 and get a good whiff of my one true love….Garlic. I have to admit to Vinnie that I’m cheating on him with garlic, pasta and pizza. Don’t think he’ll mind but I’ll mind if he asks me to share.

“Welcome to the Garlic Beast,” I tell everyone as they climb in. “The scent of garlic won’t leave you until you’ve washed from head to toe, oh, about one hundred times. Kidding, people, kidding! Off to see the Papal Palace. It’s going to be a long night. See if you can get some rest after unpacking.”

I set the dashboard navigational thingy with the Vatican City as our destination. I hit a few more buttons and we’re on our way using the Auto Pilot technology that’s used in planes. I turn around to talk to my family. Mom yelps. I look at her and tell her that it’s on Auto Pilot. She looks like she’s ready to pass out. I tell her its fine….I’ve done this a thousand times. Ok, so in reality, just twice. What she doesn’t know won’t kill her.

As we leave the airport, we pick up a police escort so we can get to the papal palace sooner. Thankfully the private airport we landed at was fifteen minutes from the papal palace but with the escort it took us close to eight minutes. Using the Auto Pilot was a good idea because I was beginning to getting tense. From the front passenger seat next to me, Vinnie reaches over to hold my hand. I feel comforted but still pretty tense.

Once we arrive, Mom, Donny and Giovanni hop out. Vinnie was still holding my hand.

“Marguerite,” Vin says. “I know you’re tense already and have been preparing the three of us with the information that we need. That must be extra stress for you that you don’t need. Baby girl, I’m here with you every step of the way. You may be the boss on the case, but I am your husband. I am going to make sure that you get more than an hour of sleep a night; I’m going to make sure that you eat. I’m also going to make sure that I spend time with my wife and not my boss.”

I roll my eyes and hop out of the Beast. I need to get the Beast unloaded so I can see Pope Benedict XVI whom I affectionately call “Benny”. Haven’t seen him in almost eighteen months. I’m not allowing myself the guilt trip. The last year I was retired and still recovering from the gunshot wound and surgery.

Giovanni shows Mom and Donny a suite that they’ll share; both rooms are twice the size of their own apartments back home. They’ll share a kitchen. As Giovanni shows Vinnie and me to our suite, my “pope – o – phone” vibrates for a second then stops. I open the phone and see that Benny has sent me a text message. I think I received the first text from a pope ever!

“Agent, I have been kept waiting long enough. I expected you fifteen minutes ago when you arrived. I demand to see you. Be here in five minutes. Benny,”