‘What happened there?’ Rhys Garrett asked.
‘On November 7th, 2006, an O’Hara airport employee noticed a large, dark disc hovering above the runway,’ Jarvis said. ‘The employee realized that what they were looking at was not normal and should not be there. The word spread quickly of a mysterious floating object above the airport. Pilots, air traffic controllers, employees and travellers alike bore witness to the UFO. There were reports of pilots on the runway peering out of their cockpit windows at it and staff going outside for a better look at the object. In the midst of all the commotion and without warning the disc shot straight up at tremendous speed through a cloud bank above the airport, leaving a large hole punched through the clouds.’
‘How does all of this connect to Russia’s new investigations?’ Lucy Morgan asked. ‘Or what we’re going to do next? I’m more interested in helping people than chasing UFO stories all around the world.’
Jarvis smiled at his granddaughter.
‘I would have thought that after what happened in Israel, after what you found there and later in Peru, you would have come to learn that much of what we do involves chasing around the world after things that most people assume are the product of myth and fantasy.’
‘I’m also interested in putting our new–found wealth to good use,’ Amber Ryan said. ‘Cut to the chase.’
‘I have it on good authority that the Russians are active in Syria and that it’s connected to a recent case of cult suicide in Utah,’ Jarvis revealed. ‘The DIA are already moving on it, so we’re going to tag along and find out just what they’re up to. As you know Aaron will deploy to Syria when we have enough information, so he’ll also chase up the Russian connection while he’s there and find out what they’re really up to.’
Mitchell appeared on the deck, a cell phone in his hand. ‘I've found him.’
Jarvis stood and straightened his shirt as Lillian and the others continued their search.
‘I’ll be leaving for Washington DC in a few hours. Amber, you’ll join me and return to your life for now. Lucy, you stay on the yacht with Lillian.’
Amber stood up in protest. ‘Why do I not get to stay here?’
‘Because we need to keep people apart,’ Garrett replied. ‘If there is anybody watching us and they notice that we keep vanishing at the same times, they’ll soon be onto us. You’ll head back for now, and then switch with Lucy as soon as it’s possible. If our movements look unconnected, we’ll stay hidden for longer.’
‘DC could be dangerous for you,’ Lucy said to her grandfather. ‘Why would you head back there now, knowing that the DIA are looking for you?’
‘It’s a risk worth taking, and Mitchell will be with me for support,’ Jarvis replied. ‘There’s somebody I need to speak to, somebody who might be able to help us. Trust me, I’ll be back as soon as I can.’
Jarvis and Amber left the deck as Garrett heard the helicopter on the yacht’s stern begin to power up, and he called after them.
‘We don’t know what we’re going to find once we get started, and we don’t know for sure just how our government will react if they start picking up the threads of what we’re attempting here. These are powerful people, and we already know just how lethal cabals like Majestic Twelve become when they believe that they’re no longer accountable for their actions. Be on your guard at all times.’
***
XVI
Rome, Italy
Ethan stepped out of a taxi cab into the hordes of crowds milling in the warm sunshine around the soaring sandstone walls of Vatican City. Lopez paid the driver before she moved alongside Ethan and stared up at the imposing building before them.
‘You think you’re of sufficiently pure heart to enter this place?’
‘I’ll probably burst into flames the moment I set foot through the door,’ Ethan replied as they began walking toward the entrance of the most famous principality in the world.
‘I’m sure you’re not that bad,’ Lopez said. ‘Not quite, anyway.’
‘What’s the name of the man we’re meeting?’
‘Francesco Mercati,’ Lopez replied, ‘Cardinal Activist of the Vatican Secret Archives. Only reason we got a meeting is down to the DIA. Looks like the US Government still holds a little sway here.’
Ethan led the way onto St Peter’s Square, and the first thing he saw was an enormous Egyptian obelisk that dominated the vast square before the Vatican itself.
‘Just like Hellerman said,’ Lopez observed, ‘right in the center of Christendom’s HQ, a giant monument to the worship of gods predating Christianity by thousands of years.’
Ethan looked up at the twenty–five meter tall obelisk, shielding his eyes against the sunlight as he did so.
‘Why would the Vatican want a giant Egyptian obelisk stuck right here?’
The voice that replied did not belong to Lopez.
‘To absorb the traditions and histories of those civilizations that came and went before us.’
Ethan turned and saw a Cardinal before them, flanked by several Swiss Guards, the entourage attracting the gazes of tourists.
‘Cardinal Francesco Mercati,’ he introduced himself in accented English. ‘You must be Ethan and Nicola.’
‘We stand out that much huh?’ Lopez asked.
‘I know much about you both already.’
‘How come?’ Ethan asked. ‘Did the DIA send you our details?’
‘Yes,’ Mercati confirmed. ‘But, we knew of you both long before that.’
Lopez shot Ethan a curious look as Mercati gestured for them to follow him. The Cardinal glanced at the obelisk as they walked past it toward the Basilica.
‘The obelisk once stood at Heliopolis in Egypt, and was built by an unknown Pharaoh. It’s hewn from red granite and may be over three thousand years old.’
‘How did it end up here?’ Lopez asked. ‘I thought it was common practice to erase all memory of older religions when a new one comes along.’
‘Often that is the case,’ Mercati replied. ‘However, the architecture of ancient Egypt was as mesmerizing to our Christian forbearers as it was to any other people, and so the obelisk was brought here by the engineer Domenico Fontana in 1586.’
Ethan saw that the mighty obelisk was capped with a feeble Crucifix, as though such a meagre icon placed almost as an afterthought could dominate the towering memory of Egypt’s grandest civilization.
The Cardinal led them into the Basilica and through the massive marble halls that echoed with the voices of tourists, as though the ghost of centuries past still haunted the grand building. Not for the first time, Ethan reflected on how such tremendous grandeur had been achieved by the Catholic Church while much of the world labored in poverty through the Dark Ages, all the while preaching about how it was “more blessed to give than to receive”.
The archives were housed in a fortress–like wing of the Vatican behind St Peter’s Basilica, and the avenue leading to the building was watched over by a phalanx of Swiss Guards in ceremonial uniform as well as officers from the city state’s own police force, the Gendarmerie. Mercati spoke as he led them toward the archives.
‘The oldest document we have here dates back to the 8th Century, while famous ones relate to the trials of the Knights Templar from 1308–1310. You’ll find the contents fascinating.’
‘How come they’re called the Secret Archives?’ Ethan asked.
‘The name is a myth,’ Mercati replied. ‘The Latin name for the archives, secretum, simply means “private”, as in to secrete something away. Our secretary to the prefecture of the archives ensure that nothing here is ever actually secret.’
‘So there’s no actual part of the archive that we cannot access,’ Ethan pressed.
Mercati appeared somewhat annoyed as he replied.
‘There is a section that is off–limits to all scholars,’ he said. ‘Nor do scholars have access to any papal papers from after 1939, which was the beginning of the reign of pontiff Pius XII and the sta
rt of World War Two.’
Ethan and Lopez exchanged a glance but said nothing as they walked.
‘Why do you need access to the Secret Archives?’ Mercati asked Ethan as they left the tourists behind and walked down a long corridor called the Porta di St Anna that led off from the Basilica toward the Secret Archives, adjacent to the Vatican Library.
‘It’s a long story,’ Ethan explained, ‘a real long story. We’re here regarding the Tulli Papyrus.’
If Mercati was shocked or anxious about the request he didn’t show it, merely walking along with the guards flanking them in silence.
‘The papyrus,’ Lopez went on, ‘makes reference to sightings made by the Pharaoh Thutmose III around three and a half thousand years ago.’
Mercati nodded. ‘I am familiar with the papyrus, but I’m afraid that I cannot help you. The papyrus was lost long ago and was never a part of the Vatican Archives.’
‘That’s not what we heard,’ Lopez said. ‘Several officials in the US Government came here hoping to view the papyrus, and were turned away.’
‘I do not know of this,’ Mercati said without looking at them. ‘Documents archived after 1939 are not available to the public.’
‘The Tulli Manuscript appeared in 1933,’ Ethan corrected him.
‘And 1939 is the year the Second World War began,’ Lopez added. ‘Why won’t you let people view documents after that year, if the archive isn’t so secret?’
Mercati didn’t reply, but Ethan had heard of why the Vatican would not allow documents in its archive to be viewed from that year on.
‘Hitler,’ he said softly. ‘The Vatican struck concords with the Nazis to prevent them taking over or bombing sites belonging to the Holy See.’
Ethan watched Mercati as he spoke, and although the cardinal did not reply immediately Ethan could see his face twist in something between regret and anger.
‘Few knew at the time what Hitler would become,’ he replied finally. ‘The Reichskonkordat and other documented agreements between the Nazi regime are often quoted by those keen to discredit us, but the church also saved many lives during the conflict, Jews included.’
‘We’re not here to judge,’ Lopez said amiably, ‘although of course if there’s nothing to hide then there’s no need for the archives to be secret at all, right?’
Mercati looked at Lopez and gave a wry smile as the guards halted outside the doors to the Archives.
‘As I said,’ Mercati went on smoothly, apparently deciding to ignore Lopez’s last statement, ‘as the Tulli Papyrus was never here, I don’t see how we can help you.’
‘There is another artefact that we believe may be here in the Archives,’ Ethan said. ‘A tablet that precedes the famous Narmer Tablet, is associated with the Pharaoh Amenhotep and is inscribed with both ancient Sumerian cuneiform and Egyptian hieroglyphics.’
‘I am sorry,’ Mercati replied with an ingratiating smile, ‘but our archives do not contain anything of that nature prior to around 1200 AD.’
‘Just because something wasn’t in your archive in 1200 AD doesn’t mean you can’t have obtained it since,’ Lopez pointed out. ‘The archives have a policy of publishing anything that is over seventy–five years old, correct?’
‘That is our standard policy,’ Mercati confirmed.
‘One human lifetime,’ Ethan mused, ‘rather like governments. By the time something is released, any scandal or furor has been long forgotten except by historians.’
Mercati didn’t respond as Lopez went on.
‘We know that these archives are not actually secret at all,’ she said. ‘We’re free to look at anything we want to, however the Vatican prohibits browsing to prevent the halls from being filled with hordes of tourists. So, if we knew precisely where the documents we want are we could locate and read them, no?’
Mercati smiled, somewhat smugly. ‘That is correct, but there are no papyri or clay tablets here in the archives and it would take years to...’
‘And what about the underground archives?’ Ethan interrupted, ‘in the basement?’
Mercati baulked a little, his eyes wobbling to look directly at Ethan. ‘The archives are all as one.’
‘The main archive is open to the public in principle,’ Ethan pressed, ‘but as you said there are sections which remain off–limits to the public. The Vatican uses its status as a country and a principality depending on what it wants to let people see, but we’re here on behalf of the United States Government. I can come back here with armed soldiers and walk right in there, or we can do this the easy way? How about it, Cardinal?’
Mercati glared furiously at Ethan and Nicola, but Ethan could see that there was no way the cardinal could prevent them from entering any part of the archives they chose. The secrecy surrounding the archives was only as deep as the media allowed the people to think it was: in truth, neither the Pope nor his cardinals could truly prevent officials from entering the building.
‘You have no right!’ Mercati snapped.
Lopez took a pace closer to him. ‘It’s the Vatican that has no right,’ she pointed out. ‘Open up, or the cavalry will come down here and do it for you.’
Mercati scowled and jerked his head to one side, an irritable indication for one of the guards to access the archives. Ethan watched as the guard turned and pressed in a key code to an entry pad alongside the main doors, and with a hiss they opened and Ethan got his first glimpse of a vast hall filled with countless rows of shelves.
‘You have ten minutes,’ Mercati snapped. ‘There is no browsing here, a rule that I can enforce and will do so.’
Lopez breezed past him with a bright smile. ‘We’ll be done in five.’
Ethan followed her into the archives and hurried to keep up. ‘Are you kidding, we don’t have a clue what we’re looking for here. How the hell do you think we’re going to find a five thousand year old tablet with such vague directions from Aisha?’
‘Oh ye of little faith,’ Lopez chimed airily as they walked. ‘Follow me.’
Ethan felt a bemused smile creep onto his face as he followed Lopez down the long corridors, and then he noticed a small piece of paper she had fished from the pocket of her jeans.
‘What’s that?’
‘GPS,’ Lopez replied, ‘courtesy of our friend Aisha.’
Ethan stared at the crude drawing on the piece of paper. ‘You got her to draw where it was?’
‘She couldn’t tell precisely where it was,’ Lopez replied, ‘but she had a pretty good idea. All we’ve got to do is find it and get out of here before Mercati sends his Swiss Guards in to find us.’
*
Gregorie Petrov walked into the Basilica and turned right, following the di Porta Angelica toward the Library and the archives. Like all experienced agents he walked with a confident stride, ensuring that he looked like he knew where he was going and that he knew what he was doing. The more confident one appeared, the less one stood out.
He was almost at the archives when he saw the Cardinal walking toward him through a slowly closing security door, flanked by four Swiss Guards. It took only a moment for Gregorie to note the guards’ sharp suits and concealed weapons to know that he would not be able to access the archives while they were present. Worse, there was no way for him to simply turn about and walk back the way he had come. Effectively cornered and with no possible explanation for the inevitable questions that would be asked of him, Gregorie fell back on his years’ of training and reacted instinctively.
Gregorie reached beneath his jacket and whipped out a Makarov PB 9mm pistol that he fired in one smooth motion as it came to bear on the five men before him. Gregorie saw the looks of surprise on their faces, saw the guards’ arms move for their own weapons even as the gunshots rang out.
The dedicated suppressor fitted to Gregorie’s Makarov was not capable of totally silencing the weapon, but it effectively muzzled the worst of the report as Gregorie saw his first shot hit a Swiss guard in the chest. The guard tumbled backwar
ds and blocked the door to the archives open. The second shot hit his companion high in the shoulder and spun him around. Gregorie fired two more shots as his aim swept from left to right, cutting the third guard down with a shot that plowed through his throat and sprayed bright arterial blood across the hall behind him.
Gregorie dropped down onto one knee as the fourth guard aimed at him and fired, an instinctive reaction to create a moving target at the last moment before the guard could draw aim. The bullet zipped over Gregorie’s head with inches to spare as he fired his fourth shot, the round smacking into the guard’s face and splitting his skull open with a crunch. The guard’s weapon fell from his hand as he died instantly, the bullet tumbling through his brain and lodging somewhere in the back of his skull as he collapsed in a heap alongside the stunned Cardinal.
Gregorie wasted no time. He leaped forward and instantly fired three more shots at the men writhing on the ground, injured but not yet dead. Each shot buried a round deep in their brains as the Cardinal staggered backward from the carnage, folded over and vomited onto the polished marble floor.
Gregorie dropped his Makarov and picked up two of the Swiss Guards’ 9mm Parabellum weapons, grabbed two spare cartridges from their belts and then turned to the Cardinal. They old man recovered from his wretching and opened his mouth to scream for help.
Gregorie slammed one fist into the old man’s belly and folded him up again, the cry for help reduced to a strained wheeze as the cardinal slumped to his knees, his arms wrapped around his belly. Gregorie took a pace forward and jammed the barrel of his pistol up against the old man’s head.
‘Where are they?’
The cardinal looked up at Gregorie with one strained eye, his body quivering from fear and pain. To Gregorie’s surprise, a flare of defiance shone in the cardinal’s eyes.
‘Go to hell.’
The Genesis Cypher (Warner & Lopez Book 6) Page 11