by Rick Jones
Taking great attention and using care, the commando reached inside the Ark and grabbed the rod. The element contained within its crystallized compartment continued to glow and rotate, with the bright cast of its illumination coloring the soldier’s face amber. With prudent measure as though he was lifting a newborn from its crib, the commando, with reverence, placed the staff into the box.
“Careful,” Salt repeated softly. “What you hold in your hands is something that pre-dates Christ.”
Once the item was placed inside and the lid lowered to cancel out the shine of the particle’s light, the box was locked and secured.
With a single gesture from Salt, the unit double-timed from the chamber with only a single item in their possession: the rod of Aaron.
No other treasures had been disturbed.
CHAPTER SIX
Cochem, Germany
Present day
A few hours after the raid in Croatia, the news at the Consortium home front was not good at all. Six members of the Consortium League had been killed with the consensus being that they were done so by a team of soldiers with a high degree of military sophistication. Those who protected Consortium grounds were of elite training, commandos who were gifted with their own unique brand of skillsets. Yet they were handled with no apparent difficulty.
Mr. da Vinci, who was sitting at his desk watching the attack unfold on his PC monitor, played the videos over and over until minuscule details not readily noticed finally came to light.
There was no doubt that this unit was a special corps of elites who performed with a specific agenda in mind. Even with a number of warrens to get lost in, they knew exactly where to go. This divulged to Mr. da Vinci that the blueprints of the Croatian facility had been appropriated from their data banks, meaning that the system’s firewalls had failed. There was also evidence to suggest that the hackers had tried to secure information regarding the whereabouts of the Consortium Stronghold, which was blocked by their primary servers. He also discovered that these computer breaches had been taking place over a three-year period without detection.
Rubbing his chin in deep thought as he continued to monitor the screen, he was gravely concerned that not a single gem or coin had been stolen, which was the measure of discipline. Equally disturbing was the item that had been taken: the rod of Aaron—which, embedded within its wood, was literally the power of God.
Long ago, after Nature selected the dinosaurs for extinction with time eventually passing the scepter of rule to the Homo Sapien, Earth had since become the cradle of discontent as wars, prejudices and savage ambitions became the ruling face of mankind. But on the eve of the extinction event that ended the reign of one dominant species in order to give rise to another, a flaming bolide had come from deep space and collided with the planet, sending crystallized shards of particle matter to spread over the face of the world. From this global seeding after the Great Collision, a small and living crystal of light had burned its way into the limb of an ancient tree. Over time the tree had withered and died within a desert landscape, with its wood becoming perfectly preserved over time through petrification. As centuries turned into millenniums with this evolution of time giving rise to humankind, a slave in Egypt would come upon this calcified rod with a glowing eye embedded within the staff’s head. Here, in the eyes of Aaron, was a staff that beheld the magic of his God.
When the staff was proposed to his brother Moses to use as a means for Pharaoh to let his people go, Moses had dipped its crystallized tip along the edge of the Nile. Almost immediately the surface became blood-red at the point of the rod’s touch and expanded outward. Whispers from those closest to Pharaoh claimed that it was a signal from Moses’ God, a power so great that nothing could combat or contest it. Some claimed that red mud from the north had spilled into the river, turning it red.
But the truth was far more complicated.
After Moses submerged the crystal beneath the surface, the power of the crystal and the particle within it ignited a red-algae bloom that grew exponentially. This became the first of the ten plagues.
Subsequent of this, the bloom changed the Ph levels, which became toxic to the fish and frogs. Therefore, when the frogs took to land in record numbers to avoid the poisonous bloom, the fish, whose dietary staple was to eat frogs’ eggs, had died off—the second of the plagues.
After having been forced from the river for an extended length of time, the frogs died off with their carcasses soon attracting lice and flies. Another of the plagues.
In turn, disease-carrying lice had caused bluetongue in cattle, a fatal virus that wiped out nearly seventy percent of Egypt’s livestock. Akin to the lice, the flies, who were also attracted to the frog carcasses, then spread the glanders bacteria to humans, which caused the plague of boils.
From this domino effect of a disrupted ecosystem came the Three Days of Darkness. Right after the plague of boils, a sandstorm lasting three days was so intense that it blotted out the sun, causing continuous darkness. During this time, the heat of the sandstorm collided with a cold front to cause hailstorms. And because of this weather system, the high winds pushed the locust population from Ethiopia into Cairo. In turn, locust dung combined with the wetness of the hail resulted in the creation of micro-toxins. Then as these micro-toxins were fed to the first born whose immune systems could not handle the poisons, this resulted in their deaths.
These plagues happened as a direct result of a faltering ecosystem. To the Egyptians it was magic. To the Jews it was the divine powers of intervention. But neither truly applied since they were caused by the natural effects between science and nature. In the end, however, it was the belief that the divine and mystical power behind the ‘Eye of Moses’ had forced Pharaoh’s hand.
The Eye of Moses, Mr. da Vinci thought, a dark particle that dated back to the moment of the Big Bang and something so powerful, that should it be gleaned and dissected from, could level entire continents if the properties of its powers were accurately harnessed for military applications.
Perhaps its use, he further considered, was Nature’s way of selecting mankind for extinction, as it did sixty-four million years ago when dinosaurs ruled the Earth.
Such irony.
For several hours he watched surveillance footage of the raid on the Croatian bunker on several different grids of the computer’s screen. He watched the hostiles move through the hallways from every possible angle, all progressing so fluidly along the floor that it appeared as if they were gliding. Then he watched them breach the vault’s door and enter the chamber, only to exit a few moments later with the prized possession of Aaron’s rod.
As gracefully as they moved through the hallways, their exit had been just as clean. However, Mr. da Vinci had noticed a blemish on the back of one of the commando’s wrist when the operator’s sleeve hiked back when he held his weapon at eye level and revealed a tattoo.
After he froze the frame, he then tapped the point of interest of the man’s tattoo on the touchscreen with his forefinger, then delivered a command to the voice-activated PC. “Zoom in,” he said.
The computer responded by closing on the exposed mark, though the footage was blurred and grainy. Then from Mr. da Vinci, he stated evenly, “High-definition cleanup.”
The pixels began to restructure themselves until the blurred image became sharper and cleaner. The mark on the back of the man’s wrist still appeared to da Vinci as a small inkblot, perhaps a mole.
“Zoom to capacity for high-definition cleanup,” he added.
The computer responded as the pixels started to concentrate on the point of interest to clear the image. Slowly, the mark started to come into focus. When the pixels had finished their assignment of piecing together a viable image, a small hitch of breath escaped Mr. da Vinci.
What he was looking at was a tattoo that belonged to members of an elite organization whose primary function was to appropriate prototypes of weaponry blueprints, and then use those pl
ans to modify weapon designs, and then sell these tailored armaments on the black market.
He leaned slowly back into his seat. “The Shadow Klan,” he whispered. He continued to stare at the tattoo—that of a grinning skull whose eyes were covered with eyepatches to signify ‘global blindness against the necessity of creating an absolute order under one rule.’ As ‘Balance’ was the ideology of the Consortium, ‘Chaos’ was the dogmatic tenets of the Shadow Klan, whose goal was to establish a global totalitarian state.
Mr. da Vinci closed his eyes as a headache started at the back of his head and began to push forward. The Shadow Klan was a global menace to society with incredible financial backing. For them to commit to such a mission to obtain the Eye of Moses, it was most likely due to having the means to break down the powers of the particle for the use of military treatments.
A true weapon of mass destruction, Mr. da Vinci considered. That’s what they want it for. To break down the particle’s components to its finite measurement, and then wield it like the Sword of Damocles over a worldwide audience.
Da Vinci continued to stare at the monitor and at the tattoo.
This would not be a weapon created for the black market that would provide specialty items of war to the Middle East. This was going to be something grand and spectacular, something the Shadow Klan would use to promote a totalitarian rule across the globe. If they were able to harness the true power of the Eye of Moses, its power of destruction would be indescribable. And the balance of the planet would hang in jeopardy, if such a weapon could be assembled. The question was: how long would it take for the Shadow Klan to master the secrets of the dark particle for weaponized use?
Months?
Years?
Decades?
Longer?
What Mr. da Vinci needed to do was to regain the Aaron’s staff and the crystal embedded within it.
The Grand Master rose from his seat and went to the window that overlooked the small community of 5,500 people, and the river that divided the castle from the township. Things were beginning to make sense, he thought, the pieces coming together, such as the theft of the crucible once belonging to Nostradamus and the subsequent raid on the vault in Croatia. There was no doubt in Mr. da Vinci’s mind that the events were connected and that the Shadow Klan was involved in both cases.
Against a sky that was perfectly blue except for a few scudding clouds, a flock of birds flew in a V-pattern. Oddly, Mr. da Vinci wondered what species of bird they were: Geese? Swan? Then his mind gravitated to the problem at hand.
The Eye of Moses.
Seeking out treasures was a part of Consortium duties but not a primary one. Not only must they retrieve Aaron’s rod, they also had to find the crucible that once belonged to Nostradamus, which was the master key to opening many more secrets that could be exploited by the Shadow Klan.
As well-gifted as the members of the Consortium were, the order needed aid outside of its key obligations to maintain balance. And whenever certain matters were beyond his reach or control when it came to religious artifacts, he had no choice but to contact the Vatican.
After returning to his desk, he stared at the phone for an exceptionally long time. Not so much in debate but trying to determine what he was going to say. After tapping a single number on the pad, the call went through an encrypted line before there was a connection.
“It’s been awhile,” said the voice on the other end. It was also the voice of Father Auciello, a co-director of Vatican Intelligence.
“How are you?” da Vinci asked.
“Good. Yourself?”
“Well, I’m hoping you can help me with a growing problem I have.”
“And that would be?”
For the next forty minutes, Mr. da Vinci informed Father Auciello everything there was to know about the thefts of the crucible and the staff, leaving nothing out.
“I know just the man who can aid you in your search,” stated Father Auciello. “Though he may march to his own drummer from time to time. But I’ll need permission from the pontiff to mobilize him.”
“If he’s going to be an asset to my people, he can march any way he wants.”
“That’s good to know.” Mr. da Vinci could hear the shuffling of papers over the line, and then, “His name is Kimball Hayden. If there’s anyone capable of pushing their way through an elite unit, he and his team of Vatican Knights can do so.”
“We’ll need that kind of fighting fortitude against the Shadow Klan.”
“Unfortunately, since your fortress in Croatia has been compromised, the pontiff will want said artifacts bound for other unchartered locations for safe keeping. In fact, Pope Clement might want everything removed to the Vault beneath the Vatican for safekeeping.”
“There would be too many relics for the Vault to hold, given the relics it already houses. But I will agree for some of the treasures to be placed under the care and security of Vatican domain. The Ark of the Covenant, for sure, needs a new altar to rest upon. Once the staff of Aaron has been retrieved, then it will be returned to its rightful place within the Ark, and the Ark handed over to Vatican emissaries. The crucible once belonging to Nostradamus, should it be retained, will remain under the jurisdiction of the Consortium since it’s the key to several global secrets.”
“The crucible has no value to the Vatican,” stated Father Auciello, “since it’s not a religious article. That’s yours to protect. But any relic with a religious tie to it will need to be returned to the Vatican, should this be the request of the pontiff. Given the nature of the Croatian facility being compromised and considered unsafe, this will most likely be his decision.”
“Understood.”
“The bowl belonging to Nostradamus, which is something that needs to be rediscovered, is yours to keep. When you do find it, then it is up to the principals of the Consortium to keep its secrets well-guarded, since the ramifications could be globally spread.”
Mr. da Vinci felt immediate ire with this statement. Father Auciello had always been a man with filters who diplomatically suggested proposals. Here, however, Mr. da Vinci felt as though he was being admonished for allowing the breach to happen. The Consortium may be an elite organization when it came to clandestine operations with a formidable group of fighters, but they were not perfect or unbreachable, either. Like any organization, they had their faults.
“Let me know of the pontiff’s decision,” Mr. da Vinci managed. “We need to mobilize a unit immediately. Both the staff and the bowl once belonging to Nostradamus are the optimum items we need to attain before viable threats can be manufactured.”
“I agree,” stated Father Auciello. “I’ll call an immediate audience with the pontiff. I’ll get back to you.”
After the call was severed, Mr. da Vinci was left stewing. The Consortium prided itself as being a regulator regarding world matters, an elite guild that influenced global outcomes for the good of the whole. But with the Croatian frontline having been cut through with the ease of a hot knife slicing through a cake of butter, Mr. da Vinci had seen how vulnerable his league was. They were not the machines he believed them to be. In fact, they showed him the widening cracks within the seams.
Since the Shadow Klan was in itself a secret cabal, perhaps they would need the Vatican Knights to level the playing field, though he believed his team could also achieve the means. Nevertheless, Mr. da Vinci would wait on the pontiff’s decision.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Inside the Papal Office
The Apostolic Palace
The Vatican, Vatican City
Pope Clement XV was a murderous pope who had once killed another while trying to attain the title of ‘Your Holiness.’ Though his plotting had failed him when he shoved an ill Pope Gregory XVII over the banister and sent him to the pavement of St. Peter’s Square, he eventually succeeded to the throne after Bonasero Vessucci’s passing, and after the resignation of Pope Pius XIV. Now, as he sat in the pontifical ch
air behind the pontifical desk, he listened to Fathers Auciello and Essex, the co-directors of Vatican Intelligence, as they relayed to him the recent military violation against the Consortium’s Croatian fortress.
Clement, who appeared adrift by the way he focused his sight to an imaginary point on the far wall and occasionally nodded, finally said, “This rod that once belonged to Aaron, you say, contains an element within the staff itself that has a power that’s trapped within a crystallized cocoon? A particle with a destructive and universal force?”
Father Essex nodded in confirmation. “The nature of its absolute strength is not clearly understood,” he told the pontiff. “But the force of the particle that’s embedded within the staff is clearly unmatched by anything on any current level of understanding when pertaining to atomic behavior, including that of nuclear weaponry. In fact, this particle appears to violate all the known principles and laws of physics.”
The pope hesitated for a moment. Then: “Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t Isaiah transport the Ark of the Covenant to Switzerland to be displayed and enjoyed by all religions?”
“It’s a facsimile,” answered Father Essex. “Much like the one in Axum, Ethiopia. The true artifact has been protected by the Consortium, along with other historical objects with and without sacred ties. The bunker was considered impenetrable, and the area unchartered.”
“Obviously not,” the pontiff replied. “And now you say that the staff of Aaron, which harbors this unknown power, is now believed to be in the hands of an organization that develops weaponry?”
“We do,” Father Essex answered.
“What kind of power are we talking about here?”
“The type of power,” began Father Auciello, “that can create galaxies or destroy them.”
“A remnant of the Big Bang, is that what you’re telling me? Something God has willingly allowed to alight within the head of a wooden staff, so that Moses could wield against Pharaoh as a show of His almighty power.”