He twirled the gun on his finger and hopped into the car. As he peeled out, he made the sign of the cross. "Bless you, my sons."

As the 20,000 lira note slowly glided down, the Pope put a bullet hole right through the center. He was gone before it hit the ground.

The hoods looked at each other and reached for the money.

CHAPTER THREE

The Crab spun around in his chair. "You fools! I should have you gutted for your insolence. But I need you alive."

The four battered hoodlums breathed a collective sigh of relief. "Oh, thank you Crab, you are too kind."

The Crab thought for a second. "Yes, you're right...I am too kind." He pressed the intercom button, "Dimitri, have them gutted."

"B...but..." A trap door opened and the four hoods fell into a deep wet hole in the earth.

On the closed circuit monitor above him, the Crab could see the Pope's car pull up to the curb outside the gates of the compound.

"Ah, Your Holiness, right on schedule. Prepare to meet your maker." He chuckled to himself and clutched a sterling silver rosary in his gnarled fist.

Will the Pope survive? Tune in next time for the thrilling conclusion.