McFassy Fortnight: Aguilar de Nehra

Aguilar de Nerha Aesthetic

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The call came from the Santa Maria della Vittoria.

There had been a man, who had been on his knees praying for over five hours.  

The Parish Priest had called Kiernan, who was in a budget meeting, so contacted Ernesto.  

The Inspector sent a very rude message back, but found himself driving to the one Church he still wasn’t comfortable with, despite it being his home Parish.

He walked in to see a well dressed man, kneeling in front of the Ecstasy of St. Teresa.  This wasn’t a homeless man, nor did he look like someone who was in desperate straights that would make Kiernan’s recruitment requirements.

His dark auburn hair was pulled back in a old fashion black velvet tie, his suit was at least five grand if not more, and the shoes were hand crafted.  He held a rosary in his hand, as he prayed, and in the twenty minutes, Ernesto watched him, he didn’t move.

Not even a flinch.

It sadly took him those twenty minutes to realize how quiet the church was, so quiet he wasn’t hearing a heartbeat.  

The man praying was a Vampire.

Now that he was paying closer attention, the Vampire was heavily armed.  Ernesto stepped back, hands loose at his side, waiting.

The man crossed himself, put the rosary in the inside suit pocket, and with ease, for someone who had been kneeling for hours, stood.  He reached up touching the marble, and bowed his head for a few moments.

He turned giving Ernesto a small smile.  “Inspector.”

The man was Spanish, accent was subtle but still there, though is Italian was perfect.  He had a feeling he should know him, but the memory was elusive.

“Do I know you?”

“You knew me as an annoying teenager, Giovanni.”  

He blinked, looked around the church then back at the man.  “Aguilar. Where’s your brother? Where there is one the other is not far away.”

He laughed, the grin on his face wide, almost shark like.  “He’s back at the hotel. He knows I like to spend time with Teresa when we’re in Rome.  I’ve been gone for too long, but I hadn’t wanted to come during the renovations.” He glanced around, then back at Ernesto.  “They did an amazing job, if you didn’t know what happened here, you would have no idea.”

Ernesto blinked a few times, focusing back on the now.  “An odd devotion for an Assassin.”

“Says an Assassin who guards the Pope.”  Aguilar grinned. “I knew Teresa personally.  The only person I knew who walked into the Inquisitor’s Office and walked out, without me leaving a trail of bodies.

“You knew her?  As in knew her?”  The Inspector rolled his eyes at himself.

“She was feisty, talked a mile a minute, wrote just as quickly, and was devoted to God.  The fact it took so long to make her a Saint only shows that the Church still has aways to go in showcasing equality.”  Aguilar reached up and squeezed his shoulder. “Come on let’s get some coffee. Make sure your boy sees you’re okay. He’s perched across the street.”

“Give me a moment.”

Aguilar watched as the Inspector went to the memorial, touched it revelantly, and said a prayer for his men and those who died.  Neither said a word as they walked out into the late afternoon sun. Aguilar slipped on his sunglasses, holding his hand up to shield his eyes as he waved up at the Florentine.

“So what’s it like to know a Saint?”  Ernesto asked as they made their way across the plaza to his waiting car.

“You tell me, considering you know St. Patrick.”  He paused as he stepped up to the passenger side. “Both of them.”

His eyes narrowed.  

Aguilar smirked.  “Come on Giovanni, lets get some food and catch you up on the gossip and drama of the Assassin Order.”