“And the death of the pope,” added Craner, “would only serve to muster Islamic militant faith. If the pope dies, militants may view that as a twisted moral victory, now that the so-called ‘False Prophet’ is dead, and organize an insurgent rise on both shores.”
The president recited from memory of the book. “When ten to the enemies one, surround him.”
Craner sighed. “Whenever we get a step closer, Hakam always seems to get two steps ahead.”
“What you neglect to see, Doug, is that The Art of War can work both ways as well.”
“I hardly see our advantage in this, Mr. President.”
“I’m not talking about us. I’m talking about Father Kimball. This man alone took out three opponents. So consider this, although unequal he still eluded them. But because he was incapable of withdrawing, he engaged them and halved the team. The more he reduces Hakam’s assassins, the more it reduces the quantity of the opposition.”
“Nevertheless, Mr. President, he’s still outnumbered,” stated Thornton, moving beside them with his arms crossed.
“If Father Kimball took out three men, then that tells me he can take out another three. Maybe two; Hakam hardly looks like the warrior type to me.”
“Mr. President.” Thornton looked at his watch. “We have fifty-four minutes before Hakam follows through with his threat to kill the pontiff. So do we go forward and take out Rokach? Or do we begin with our efforts to clear out LA?”
The president closed his eyes. Whenever he got one step ahead, Hakam always countered by doubling the distance between them.
“Mr. President, we need to act decisively.”
He was right. The entire team was right. For the past few hours Burroughs was banking on a solvable solution without throwing Los Angeles into a state of panic. And by going against supreme odds and if he failed, his decisions could cost hundreds of thousands of lives.
“What do we do, Mr. President?”
Burroughs turned to his CIA Director. “Doug, contact Langley and target Rokach. But do not engage her until the last possible moment. If there is no hope of resolution, then we’ll have to take her out.” He turned back to the screen. “We’ll see if Hakam is true to his word and disables a nuclear weapon as promised.”
“Understood.”
“And what about the other matter, Mr. President?” asked Thornton. “What about the people in Los Angeles?”
When he was on the verge of conceding and about to commit to the evacuation, someone inside the chamber hollered ‘incoming.’
It was a message from Father Kimball.
SHEPHERD ONE: I found a way topside.
RAVEN ROCK: Father Kimball, the major principal on board has informed us that he will kill the pope within the hour if his demand is not met.
SHEPHERD ONE: Will it be met?
RAVEN ROCK: Unknown. There may not be enough time to complete the task.
SHEPHERD ONE: Then I will engage the remaining faction.
RAVEN ROCK: When?
SHEPHERD ONE: Within fifteen minutes.
RAVEN ROCK: We were about to order the evacuation of Los Angeles.
SHEPHERD ONE: Do what you want. I have problems of my own.
RAVEN ROCK: My point is: How confident are you in succeeding in your task?
SHEPHERD ONE: Confident enough. This is not my first time at the rodeo.
RAVEN ROCK: Good enough. All we can hope for is that you accomplish your goal.
SHEPHERD ONE: My goal is the safety of the pope.
RAVEN ROCK: Understood… Good luck!
… COMMUNICATION TERMINATED…
Basilio did not know how long it had been dark, the light coming through the holes having been snuffed hours ago. During the day the box had become sweltering hot, the temperature rising until the juices of his body ran dry. His muscles cramped into agonizing moments of torture, each tenuous fiber knotting beneath his flesh with little promise of relief.
His screams also went unheard, unheeded, nothing but an echo within his death chamber. After a while he began to lose cognition, the world beneath his feet appearing to spiral in the maelstrom of darkness, as confusion reigned. The demons of the netherworld reaching up through the shadows, waiting to pull him down.
What have I done that I deserve to go to Hell?
In time, he unwittingly soiled himself and his pleas for help became nothing more than a string of incoherent babble and words. And now Basilio, a onetime soccer star and son to Enzio and Vittoria Pastore, was dying by the inches.
If he did not get hydrated within the next two hours, then his freefall into maelstrom would come to a crashing halt the instant his heart stopped beating.
The distance to Perugia from Rome is approximately 190 kilometers, or 120 miles. And the deployment of the Vatican Knights was about to commence as the papal van neared the old factories that had once served as a munitions depot during World War II.
In the rear of the van, Leviticus stared at nothing in particular as his mind envisioned his unit moving through the old factory with all the precision of a seasoned force. There was no one better than his team of four… And no one better than the Vatican Knights.
They had taken their names from the Books of the Old Testament with the exception of Kimball Hayden, who held the moniker of Archangel but never used it. Danny Keaton had taken the name of Leviticus and fell as second-in-command, Steven Hathaway took the name of Jonah, Johnny Nazorine became Jeremiah, and Christian Placentia the name of Isaiah.
After years of growing up behind Vatican walls, these men had developed into a band of brothers groomed to be the Crusaders of a new age. They had trained to be the best in the world and had mastered much more than the martial art techniques of aikido and Chinese Kenpo. They also studied the eclectic philosophies from such men as Epicurus and Plotinus with an emphasis of study on the works The Enneads and The Confessions. Art also had its place in the teachings of such men with certain works serving to develop insight by interpreting the artistic encryptions of Da Vinci, Michelangelo and Peter Paul Rubens. And for a Vatican Knight, it was believed that the consummate development of the mind was equally as important as consummate development of the body. Together they formed a combination that fashioned men of impervious will, staunch character, and the mindset that loyalty was above all else, with the exception of honor.
These were the Vatican Knights.
Closing his eyes, Leviticus fell into prayer and asked for the safety of his unit. It was quick, however, as the van slowed to a stop.
Approximately 200 feet to the south lay a cluster of abandoned buildings. Even in obscure lighting they could see that the windows had been boarded over and the walls had aged to crumbling brick and mortar. It was also fortified by a ten-foot-tall fence.
“All right,” said Leviticus. “There are a total of four buildings. We’ll enter from the north side and work our way south. Isaiah and I will recon the second-level tiers; Jonah and Jeremiah will negotiate the first levels. If you see a tango, then you know what to do. Just make sure you do it quickly, quietly and efficiently. We don’t want to give anyone the opportunity to alert the others and make our job harder. Is that understood?”
It was.
“All right then. Weapons check.”
Every Knight examined his weapon, an MP-5 with an attached suppressor, and made sure the magazines were properly seated and the weapon action smooth. When everything appeared fitting, each man gave Leviticus a thumbs-up in approval.
“Godspeed to all,” he finalized.
Under the cover of night they exited the van and made their way to the perimeter. Each Knight wearing his assigned assault gear. In the darkness they were nothing more than a part of the shadow itself, their black uniforms and unpolished boots blending in nicely. Exposed on the breastplate of their armor was the insignia of their clan, the emblem of the Silver Pattée. And as always, and as required, each man wore a cleric’s collar as a proud attachment to his uniform.