»That is irrelevant,« he said. »We have to meet. In one hour. At the ›Tre Cani‹ in Trastevere. You know the restaurant.« »I don’t have to do anything,« Cardinal Menendez grumbled into his private cell phone, whose number was known to only four people in the Vatican. »I will…« »In one hour, Cardinal. Unless you want to blow your last chance of ever becoming pope.« The connection was cut. Menendez was furious. He put his cell phone away and tried to refocus on his speech for the upcoming Eucharistic Congress in Cologne. But he couldn’t. Because Menendez had a keen sense for the voice of power. For the subtle nuances in attitude and speech patterns that, without fail, distinguished people as either part of the obedient masses or as representatives of the small elite of leaders to which he belonged himself, at least in his personal opinion. The voice on the phone was used to giving orders that were obeyed without question. The tone of voice had something to it that was threatening and intimidating, too much to ignore, even for a man like Menendez.
What do You think about Apocalypsis 1.09 Wearily Electors?
