Bipolar WINTER. Samuel David Steiner
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pope said. “Somehow they found the blueprints for Septem Montes and built their religion following their own design. They keep growing in number, and we can no longer ignore the power and influence of their organization. However, I believe they could still serve the original purpose intended by my predecessors. They will be a challenge, though. They fight us at every turn, vehemently disagreeing with every nuance of the Mother Church.” He stared somewhere past Aldo’s left shoulder. “They insist on keeping the Sabbath on Saturday.” He shook his head.
While Aldo still hadn’t confirmed his theory as to why the Church had created Septem Montes to begin with, he believed there was only one logical reason behind it: to unify and strengthen the faith of all Christians. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” Aldo quoted.
Pope Benedict met Aldo’s eyes. “I agree, and the seven have been away far too long.” His gaze drifted off into the distance again, but only for a moment. “Since you already figured out that piece of the puzzle, I can give you one tip. You’ll be researching the Seventh’s involvement with the Nazis.”
Aldo stared at the pope. “What involvement?”
Pope Benedict shook his head. “If I tell you anything else, your judgment may become clouded. You must research for yourself, view all the information without prejudice, and form your own conclusions.”
“In other words, you want the truth.”However harsh it may be .
The pope nodded then looked at his watch. “You should be on your way soon, if you’re to catch your flight.”
“Right, I still need to pack,” Aldo said, pushing his chair back to stand up.
“No need,” David said from behind him. Aldo turned to find the young priest holding his suitcase and laptop bag. “Are you ready, sir?” David asked.
“As I’ll ever be,” Aldo said with a sigh. He would have liked to stay a bit longer. Turning back to the pope, he asked, “When do I return?”
“When you’re finished,” the pope said simply. “You’ll know when that is. It might take some time.”
Aldo nodded then bid the pope farewell and followed David out of the courtyard.
The cab dropped him at the airport with two hours to spare. Since he had only his laptop bag and suitcase, the check-in process went smoothly, and he was soon was sitting at the gate waiting to board. With the long flight ahead of him, he silently thanked David for booking him a seat in first class.
Once the plane reached its peak altitude and leveled out, he pulled out his laptop and started researching the history of Argentina during the 1940s. According to numerous reports, the country had been a haven for Nazis after World War II, harboring some of the worst war criminals. But he still couldn’t find anything connecting these events to the Seventh-day Adventist Church.
Argentina’s open-door policy for immigrants went back centuries. The only country to allow more people to cross its borders was the United States. After the war, Argentina formed a large underground network, sanctioned by Juan Peron’s government. They aided many infamous Nazi officials, offering them new identities and protection from the Allied forces. Information sourced on the internet could often be sketchy, yet it was hard to deny the number of ex-Nazi sightings in Argentina—Josef Mengele, Adolf Eichmann, and Klaus Barbie, and countless others.
Various groups hunted down and extracted the fugitive Nazis from South America and other regions around the world over the decades that followed the war. Eichmann was captured by Israelis and finally hanged in 1962. However, some war criminals were never caught, never brought to justice to pay for their crimes. Mengele was one of them. It angered Aldo that such a monster had been able to live out his days in relative peace, dying of natural causes in Brazil. No one said life was fair, but with the countless lives Mengele had mangled and destroyed at Auschwitz, Aldo couldn’t accept such a gross injustice.
Focusing on his research made the long flight more bearable, though Aldo occasionally had to remove his reading glasses and rub the fatigue from his eyes. He drank cup after cup of coffee, determined to stay awake and learn as much as he could before arriving in Argentina. By the time his plane finally touched down, Aldo had filled his notebook with scribbled shorthand, a method of taking quick notes he had developed during his graduate studies.
Exhausted from fighting currents of people as they moved through the terminal, he managed to locate the rental car kiosk and picked up the compact silver sedan reserved under his name. Looking over his travel documents, he realized David had reserved him a room at the Castelar Hotel and Spa. Aldo groaned. It would take thirty minutes to get there, assuming he didn’t get lost. He considered sleeping in the airport for the night but decided a real bed was worth surviving another half hour and trudged out to the rental car lot.
Even with an unintended detour, he arrived at the hotel just before one in the morning. Handing the keys for his rental to the attendant, he stumbled into the lobby. Aldo nodded vaguely when the concierge offered him a small room overlooking the Avenida de Mayo, relieved the man could speak English. His Spanish was mediocre at best, and his lack of sleep didn’t encourage him to try.
Anything, so long as it has a bed. “I’m sure it’s fine,” Aldo said, trying not to slur his words.
“Would you like a wakeup call?” the concierge asked.
“Not on your life.”
“Perhaps a do not disturb message on the phone then?” the man said with a small smile.
“That I’ll take you up on.” A few minutes later, Aldo fell onto the bed, without even bothering to remove his shoes.
He woke to the sound of morning traffic rushing past his window. He pulled the heavy curtains open, and bright sunlight poured into the room. The trees lining the Avenida de Mayo were adorned with vibrant green and burgundy leaves. Oh, yeah. It’s summer here. He quickly showered and dressed, eager to explore.
Buenos Aires, how long will I call you home? He made his way through the hotel lobby and out to the street. He hoped it wouldn’t be more than a week or two. The warmer weather was a welcome change, but he didn’t want to keep giving his mom vague answers about where he was and what he was doing. Allison had been equally nosy, though not for reasons he would prefer. She texted him regularly for updates, as though already aware he was no longer in Italy. He sighed. Having been relegated to the position of friend for so long, he should be happy for some kind of development in their relationship, but espionage wasn’t exactly what he had in mind.
He meandered along the sidewalk, marveling at a large colorful mural depicting the road he was on. The streets were wider than he had expected and were crowded with traffic. Pedestrians passed by at a good clip, a few nodding their heads in greeting. He stepped into a small café and ordered a cup of coffee and a pastry. As he waited for his order, conversations swirled around him in multiple languages, German and Spanish predominant.
Settling into a chair at a small bistro table outside, he pulled out his laptop. Forums were full of speculation about post World War II activities in Argentina, but the authors seemed to be mostly conspiracy theorists, ranting about unlikely possibilities and lacking any concrete proof. He found evidence of the Seventh-day Adventists’ involvement with Nazi propaganda in Germany prior to the war, but nothing that linked the church to the fugitive SS officials in Argentina.
Sighing, he closed the laptop and glanced at the beautiful architecture around him as he sipped his coffee. I need for you to use your keen observational skills. Look around, ask questions, scrutinize, learn. Do what you do best . The pope’s words echoed in his head.
Finishing his breakfast, he headed back to the hotel to drop off his laptop. As high-tech as it was, it proved to be more of a hindrance than a help. It was too easy to get sucked into the conspiracies and false information circulating the internet.
Taking only his notebook and pen, Aldo walked around the city all afternoon, eventually finding a small bookstore a few blocks south of the hotel. He picked up some travel