Time: Present Day

Location: Vatican City

"Hello, I'm Layla, and this is my cameraman Mal. Thank you so much for agreeing to this interview. I owe your friend Amanda a nice lunch for arranging it."

"That's quite alright, we are always happy to co-operate with the media here at the Vatican," Peter lied.

"Just while Mal is setting up and off the record so to speak, I'd like to discuss your views on a couple of things to get a feel of where to take the interview if that's alright."

"Yes, that would be okay I suppose."

"Let me start by saying Amanda told me she knew you quite well several years ago growing up, you were next door neighbours I believe."

"Yes, that is so."

"She tells me you had quite a crush on her identical twin sister."

"You could say that. Amelia and I were close growing up. Yes we liked each other, teenage crush you could call it I suppose."

"It was tragic, what happened to her in Paris. And she had a little baby I believe. Amanda tells me you in fact were the father."

"Look, yes, I only found out about that recently, and it was long before I became a priest."

We are ready to roll now. I'll do the intro then switch to you.

Good Evening everyone, I'm Layla Hart and this is After Dark, I'm here with Father Peter Margate, Father Margate is from Australia and has recently been promoted several times to a position in the Vatican that has some people speculating that Father Peter Margate could, in fact, become the first Australian to be considered a favoured candidate to become the next Pope.

"Father Margate, if I may, in view of the unprecedented media exposure being given to the topic I thought our viewers might be interested in what you might think about rumours that the Church is soft on paedophile priests and brothers, allowing them to keep doing what they are doing by moving them about each time an accusation surfaces, or paying victims off, what are your thoughts on that."

"Well Layla, let me answer your question this way. We've done done research and the incidence in the priesthood is not much higher than that in the general population on average."

"That may or may not be the case, but don't you think your parishioners would be entitled to think that priests should have a much lower incidence of paedophile behaviour than that found in the general population?"

"Some people, maybe, but priests are only human . . . "

"If, as many believe, you were to become the Pontiff, the first Australian Pope, given the number of people that have come forward in Australia, what would you do about all the priests that have been accused of child molesting. What would you do about it?"

"What you say cannot come to pass, I am in an arm of the Church from which it is impossible to be selected as a candidate for the papacy. To be elected Pope, you must usually first become a Cardinal, and that cannot happen in my case. Can we move on?"

"You are not without tragedy in your life I believe. You were in love once, with the girl next door but she died of an overdose of drugs, then your friend, her twin sister had a son, Carter Cheval, as we all know was shot and killed in a drive by shooting in Sydney a couple of years ago, then his grandmother, who recently came to see you, I believe died in a car accident in Paris, in the same tunnel as Princess Di . . , "

"Is there a question coming?" Peter said with a touch of annoyance.

"Yes, sorry, how do you reconcile all this, plus all the molesting and abuse of children with a just and fair God that the Catholic Church now preaches about. I believe you call it the Green God as opposed to the Red God of generations past. The fire and brimstone God of judgement and damnation, how do you think that God would punish your priests that molest children, that's the question those inside and outside your Church are asking?"

"It's true we have changed the way we are teaching our followers to think about God. It is a necessary evolution, the Church must evolve and change to survive, as does any business in the current global marketplace."

"So you believe in evolution, not the bible stories of how God created the earth?"

"No. I believe the bible, it is a recognized historical document, even a reporter such as yourself should know that."

Good, he's getting angry. Layla thought, he might just get angry enough to slip up.

"So, you think of your Church as a business, then, the Pope, he must be the CEO."

"You could look at it that way I suppose," Peter shifted uncomfortably in his seat and wiped his brow with a tissue he took from his left sleeve.

"Then why doesn't the CEO behave like a CEO and sack all these paedophile priests, excommunicate them, purge them from the business instead of protecting them?"

"I think I have said all I need to on that matter, after all, as you point out yourself, it is really a matter for His Holiness,mperhaps you should ask him?"

"But, we are not interviewing the Pope, are we Father Peter? We are interviewing, the Guardian, isn't it, tell us, what exactly does the Guardian do at the Vatican, and why do you need armed guards, what exactly are you guarding, or perhaps guarding against?"

"If you are referring to the Swiss Guards. They are a throw back to more violent times,,when it was necessary to protect the Pontiff."

"But you said yourself, you are not the pontiff nor can you become the pontiff, so why so many guards on this floor?"

"This interview is over," A voice came from behind Layla. Graz stormed over to Peter, took the microphone off him and threw it on the ground. "Stop that camera! Now!"

"But we were just getting started, "Layla protested."

"And now, you are finished, you've no idea just how finished you are. Pack up your things and leave, or do I get those guards and you two can see first hand exactly what they do on this floor."

"No need for violence. We will.leave peacefully, Sorry, we didn't mean to offend," Mal said.

"You people never do, but always seem to manage it despite yourself, now get out!" Graz pressed a button on a gold chain around his neck and two Swiss Guards immediately appeared. "Our friends from the media have to go now, show them the way to security, and confiscate that camera. It will be returned to you after it has been wiped, after all there was no interview here today was there?"

Once outside Mal burst into laughter."You sure got him going, didn't you, Layla. Did you see the look on his face at the end, no wonder Monique was scared. And that other dude, his boss, whoever he was, was that a threat at the end do you think?"

"Sorry you lost your camera Mal. I hope they do return it, pity they are going to erase it. I would have liked to study his reactions again, maybe get a body language expert to check him out. Oh well, never mind, can't be helped now. What's so funny now? You really do look like a clown in that checkered bow tie. I didn't think you were the bow tie type."

"That's because I'm not. This is a theatre prop, a very special theatre prop, meet the bow camera. we use it to film audience reactions when we test out a new play. They can keep the camera. I had a feeling that might happen, so, we have all we need right here."

She squealed, threw her arms around him and kissed him, a long wet kiss, kissed him for the first time in public and it felt so good she cried. "I love you so much, you are amazing, simply amazing."

Carter looked over at Teacher.

When they were in the car on the way back to the hotel Layla said, "Show them that as soon as you get back to Paris. I'll do some research and find a body language expert that speaks English after I get back."

"What do you mean. We'll be going back together won't we?"

"No Mal, sorry I didn't know when to tell you. Ed wants me to do an interview in Syria on the way back, a news crew is already there setting up. You are booked on a fight to Paris in the morning. I am flying to Damascus tonight and then getting on an American transport plane to Aleppo in the morning."

"Like hell, that's a war zone Layla, you're not going, not without me at least."

"No Mal, you're a civilian, it's not possible, it's too dangerous."

"And that's supposed to convince me to let you go alone?"

"There are no commercial flights, at the moment because of ISLA attacks."

"What's ISLA?"

"Islamic Syrian Liberation Army. I'm interviewing their leader in Aleppo, Jihad Yazzi. It's all arranged. It's a worldwide exclusive. I have to go. Ed is counting on me. Yes it's dangerous, but it's my job Mal, you've known that all along."

"I'm not trying to stop you, I understand, I'm coming with you."

"You can't Mal, it cost a fortune to get on that transport. The Syrian currency has gone to shit since the war."

"Just watch, I have a fortune, thanks to Carter, anyway you heard that priest, that was a threat. I think we are probably in some sort of danger now anyway, so we might as well be in danger together don't you think? And it might as well be in Syria, wherever that is, as anywhere."

Carter watched over them as they slept on the transport to Aleppo. They hadn't had much sleep as they went over the day's proceedings on the commercial flight from Rome to Damascus.

When they finally arrived in Aleppo. They were met by someone from the Palace Hotel driven to the hotel where they had a shower . . . together. He washed her back, and then as she turned around he couldn't help but think back to when they first met, on the bus. She had gotten on near the theatre, he thought she was so cute, with her black beauty spot in the middle of her forehead and below that those gold and green eyes that seemed to instantly look into his soul.

He was looking into them now, and realised he had loved her since that fateful day, when she had gotten on his bus, remembered she'd left her wallet at home. Turned to get off when Mal offered to pay her fare and lend her twenty dollars for lunch. She said she couldn't let him do that, but he had convinced her that she would be doing him a favour, because she would have to see him again to repay him. And he definitely wanted to see her again. She had giggled her assent.

They had talked every day she caught the bus after that until he convinced her to join his amateur theatrical group. She was good, for a girl with no previous training she was outstanding. She always remembered her lines.

Then he introduced her to Carter and that had been that.

They dressed hurriedly wolfed down a lunch in the hotel restaurant and waited out the front for their driver.

The car arrived dead on time, funny how things were so precise in the middle of chaos.

They were taken to the rendezvous point where the camera crew had been the guests of ISLA for the past two days shooting background film of the rebels sautées against the state funded army. They were taken from the car to a large white tent. As they approached a tall muscular man with a full head of jet black hair tied back with a red bandanna and flanked by two bodyguards armed with rifles and sub machine guns appeared in the tent doorway.

The man strode up to them with an air of superiority, "Welcome," Jihad said to Malcolm, extending his large hand and largely ignoring Layla.

"We will do the interview here, in the open, so people will know it is ISLA that controls Aleppo. Ask your questions and I will answer those I choose. You will not use this material for propaganda, or your network will suffer the consequences, am I clear?"

"Yes perfectly," said Layla, I'm Layla Hart and I'll be doing the interview."

"Ah, a woman, of course, it is the decadent West, where women lord over men and prostitutes and pimps run countries."

Layla ignored the insult and said, "Shall we begin?"

"If you must"

Layla turned to the camera and said, "This is Layla Hart on location in the heart of terrorist held Aleppo in Southern Syria. I am talking to Jihad Yazzi, the head of ISLA, the Islamic Syrian Liberation Army. They control much of the airspace and ground positions in this city, one of the biggest outside the capital Damascus.

"Mr. Yazzi, how did you get to be leader of the rebel forces in this area?"

Mal took up a position behind and to the left of the camerman and boom operator. Layla and Yazzi were in the shade of the large tent turned slightly in towards each other. Mal watched the interview with interest. It was going quite well until Layla had asked a question Yazzi wasn't at all happy with. He called a break in the interview as he took exception to being labelled a terrorist. Layla took the opportunity in the break to fine tune the rest of the interview with her camera crew.

Anton had purchased a high powered rifle with a large laser scope with a range of several hundred metres. He had been in hiding since early morning on top of a bombed out derelict building opposite a large white tent in the rebel strong hold encampment.

Mal was musing over their morning shower, remembering how cute Layla's beauty spot was so close up in the shower, you could hardly notice it now from this distance. Layla was dicussing the order of questions with Mike the camerman when Mal noticed that her beauty spot had gone a bit red. He was on his way to tell her to put on some sunscreen. He heard her phone start ringing which she had given him for safe keeping while she was interviewing Yazzi. He started to reach for it, as he said to her, "Hey Layla, I didn't know you liked Harry Chapin . , , "

"Who the hell is Harry Chapin when he's at home?" Layla laughed.

"The singer on your ring tone," Mal said, funny the beauty spot is black again. It must be the way she's standing now. As he got closer he noticed another red spot on the back of Mike's head.

"Mind you its an unusual song for a ringtone. Sniper . . ." Layla moved so she could see him and the red spot was back, on top of the beauty spot.....

Just seconds before the first shot rang out, the penny dropped, Mal said, "Shit!" and charged at Layla diving in a perfectly executed Rugby tackle that he hadn't done since his high school football days. As they both crashed to the ground he hrard something whizzing overhead. His face got splattered with blood as he fell heavily on top of Layla. His head was buried in her lovely breasts, he didn't want to look but forced himself to look at her. She had a stunned look on her face and was groaning, her hair was parted in the middle and singed, blood trickled down both sides of her face from a flesh wound to the scalp.

As they lay there, another two shots rang out and Mike fell down dead beside them as he dropped the camera and tried to run into the tent. Mal thought We are sitting ducks here and with that looked to his left and saw the jeep. He grabbed hold of Layla as tightly as he could and told her to roll. He used all the strength he could summon to roll them both under the cover of the jeep. Two more shots kicked up the dirt to the right of them just inches away. Then the shooting stopped. His guards had spirited Yazzi into the tent and two of his men made a beeline for the deserted building opposite the tent where they had seen the shots had come from.

They ran up the dilapidated staircase and into the top floor apartment. Anton slit both their throats from behind the door before they could utter a sound. He left the rifle, took off his gloves and scampered down the grappling ladder he had used to scale the building earlier. Once on the ground he put on a black bandanna and joined the hubbub of the market crowd in the lane one block from the back of the building.

Chapter 62 - The Sniper.

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