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 He suppressed a sigh. The truck-american, he guessed, from its Sheer bulk and gaudy chrome-had a foreign registration plate. The idea that churches had opening hours just like any place of business always seemed to escape tourists, who treated the world as their own personal amusement park. Well this group would have to go away disappointed.     The truck rumbled to a standstill. Father cardella put on a polite face and waited for its occupants to emerge. The windows were tinted so darkly that he couldn't even tell how many people were inside. He held back another sigh. Who did they think were, hollywood stars?   The doors open.                     Definitely not hollywood stars. While father cardella didn't want to be uncharitable, he couldn't help thinking it had been a long time since he'd seen such a concentration of ugliness. First out was the driver, a shaven-headed man with a sallow,  almost sickly complexion. He had the look of a soldier or a convict. From the other side emerge a giant..


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