The Celtic Conspiracy

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The Celtic Conspiracy Page 20

by Hansen, Thore D.


  Deborah closed her eyes for a moment and then nodded. The scene reminded her of that moment at MacClary’s when they were all standing in front of the vitrine. Without Adam’s uncanny intuition leading them to the coordinates of the cave, none of the events of the last few days would have been possible. They pushed an iron stake into the ground and tied a rope to it.

  “I’ll go first,” she said, already letting herself down carefully. When she got to the bottom, she called, “Adam, I think...I think we’ve really found it, but...oh, come down, and see for yourself.”

  Adam wrapped the second rope around his chest, tying it with a climber’s knot. When he landed, he shone his flashlight through the bars of the grate. They could see bookshelves filled with old files and another entrance next to the door opposite them, just visible through a glass pane. There was a sign that said something about conservation and restoration, and it had the seal of the Vatican.

  Deborah had already begun to loosen the bars with a chisel and a rubber hammer, finding it surprisingly easy to do so. “They must be awfully sure that no one will find this place,” she said. “Somehow I can’t imagine we’re really going to find what we’re looking for here. They should have all sorts of security devices here.”

  “I’d be just as happy to do without any more hurdles.”

  The last bar slipped out of her fingers and fell with a loud clang onto the floor. “Damn it,” she whispered into her turtleneck, and they both ducked down. However, after the clanging subsided, it was replaced with absolute quiet.

  “Do I have to pray now, or what?” Adam joked.

  “Did you hear something?”

  “No, not a thing.”

  “Good. Still, we don’t have much time. Someone must have heard that. I’ll go first.”

  Deborah noticed that her hands were trembling. Adam must have noticed as well.

  “Hey, wait a minute,” he said. “Give me your hands.”

  “What?”

  “Give me your hands!”

  She gave him a skeptical look but stretched her hands out obediently. Adam took them firmly into his own. Two little hands in his own enormous ones.

  “Trust me, OK?”

  To her surprise, Deborah could feel herself calming down in Adam’s warm grasp. “That helped. Thank you.”

  “Now go.”

  Deborah pushed her upper body through the opening and let herself down silently. The room was enormous. The walls were lined with shelves full of old documents. “I don’t believe it. This is a collection of the forbidden books of the Inquisition. Here, look...”

  “We don’t have time for that,” Adam said sharply. He carefully opened the swinging door to the corridor. It was pitch black and deathly quiet. Was it really possible that no one had heard the bar fall? Could they really be that lucky?

  Just as Adam started into the hall, the door slammed against him, hitting his forehead. He threw himself back against the door so hard that his assailant slammed against the opposite wall and slid to the floor.

  Deborah ran into the hall, scanning up and down the corridor with her flashlight. She saw a dark figure running away, but he was too far gone to stop him. If he went to get help, they had at most a few seconds before they had to get back up the shaft if they were going to avoid being seen.

  “Adam, we need to get out of here!”

  “Not a chance! Let’s take your pictures.”

  As if she were operating on remote control, Deborah got her camera out of her pocket and took all the pictures she could. She cursed softly as she realized that the flash was throwing light everywhere, even on the street in front of the ventilation shafts.

  Adam gesticulated wildly with both hands. “Come in here!” Using a crowbar, he broke open the locked door to the conservation room and turned on the light.

  “Are you insane? Turn out the light!”

  “It doesn’t matter anymore.” He pointed to the back table, where several scrolls were spread open. “Quick, give me a box.”

  With lightning speed Deborah took one of the boxes from her shoulder, just like the ones she had used in Austria for transporting parchment. Seemingly uncaring of the danger they were in, Adam rolled the scroll into the box. Deborah got a fleeting glance of the writing on it.

  “Wait a minute, that’s...a scroll about Sopatros...he was...”

  “We can get to all of that later,” Adam said, closing the box and running toward the ventilation shaft.

  Both of them pulled themselves up the shaft as quickly as they could. They sprinted toward the narrow streets right next to the dome. Deborah saw an armed man coming out of the dome and running toward them. They hadn’t seen him before.

  Suddenly there was a shot that just missed Deborah and hit a wall. As stone shards sprayed, she ran into a side street just in time to avoid the next shot. One street to the left, then again to the right. Both of them were running as fast as they could. They were lucky: the streets were too narrow for a car to follow. Somewhat relieved, but still frantically looking over their shoulders, they kept on until they reached the dark safety of one of the many labyrinthine back courtyards.

  Deborah and Shane waited there until almost dawn before they slowly inched their way back to the rental car. There was no one around. The police and their pursuers from the dome must have given up at some point. Relieved, they fell into the car and drove to the airport.

  VATICAN CITY, ROME – MARCH 23, MORNING

  The knock on the door was so loud that Salvoni jumped at the sound.

  “Salvoni, where did you store the parchments?” Lambert barked as he entered.

  “We had them brought to Orvieto after the Holy Father examined them. He was quite shocked.”

  “Who arranged it?”

  “Who arranged what, Cardinal?”

  “The transport of the parchments to Orvieto. What else have we been talking about here?”

  “Excuse me, I’m confused. Contas arranged it, Cardinal.”

  “Damn it, I do not understand. Is everyone here doing exactly as they please now? Is there even the slightest trace of coordination left in this organization? I clearly said that the material should on no account leave the Vatican before the matter is concluded.”

  Salvoni was trying to get his wits about him, but he was having trouble. “What happened? Orvieto is the most secure location we could—”

  “Your secure Orvieto was broken into! Without the brave intervention of the priests and guards, it could have been much worse. Apparently nothing is missing, to which I can only say thanks be to God.” Lambert crossed himself three times and then pulled out a handkerchief with trembling hands, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

  “I have a good idea who’s behind it,” Salvoni muttered ruefully.

  “So do I. It’s not exactly difficult to figure out, is it?” He regarded Salvoni darkly. “Salvoni, it’s time that we face the music. I may not be able to keep you on anymore, and I have to ask you to perform one last service for us.”

  Salvoni had known this moment would come one day. His fate had been hanging over him like a shadow for years. He had grown tired to his core, so horribly tired, that he was ready to agree to anything. All that mattered to him now was that he would soon be done with this miserable torment. “Yes, Cardinal.”

  “First, make sure that everything in Orvieto is destroyed. The old archive will be dissolved and brought here. And every last one of the parchments from Austria will be destroyed, no exceptions.”

  Salvoni couldn’t even comprehend what Lambert was ordering. He was talking about ancient artifacts, documents of incalculable value and huge importance for the study of antiquity. There were articles about the Druids’ medical science and trade agreements with Rome that proved how advanced the metalworking of the Celts had been. And of course there were countless writings of the old philosophers, which the Druids, in their thirst for knowledge, had collected and assimilated.

  “But Cardinal, only a small portion of our collect
ion is concerned with the foundation of the Church. Couldn’t we just secure the rest of the documents in the Vatican? I mean...no matter what happens, if we destroy these invaluable documents now, people will just demonize us all the more. It won’t be easy to hide the library of the Druids from the public eye, but to destroy it...” Salvoni didn’t have anything to lose, and he could feel, to his own astonishment, how calm that made him. “We both know that the really sensational documents aren’t in Orvieto anyhow.”

  Lambert nodded. “You’re right, Salvoni, we both know that. Ronald MacClary’s friends must have found precisely those scrolls which would be most effective to use against us.”

  The two men remained silent for a minute, and then Lambert calmly continued. “You know, Salvoni, I just read a book by one of our harshest critics. The title is The Vatican Walks in the Devil’s Shoes. Sensationalistic, but from the author’s viewpoint, very apt. For centuries we’ve managed to keep these critics in the tiny, manageable confines of their scientific community and to protect the faithful from their venom, but how much longer can we continue to do this? How much longer, Salvoni?” Lambert sat down. “The abuse cases have heated up criticism of the Church. We’ve always argued on the basis that humans have their foibles and make mistakes, even within the Church. But this library of the Druids, as you call it, this could bring an end to this line of reasoning. And what then?” Lambert folded his hands behind his head. He looked almost relaxed, but Salvoni knew that appearances were deceiving.

  “What then? I don’t know, Cardinal, but I know that it’s a mistake to destroy this new discovery. It may be that, in the end, it could help us to make amends.”

  Lambert slowly nodded. “All right, Salvoni, perhaps you’re right. Just destroy the most controversial parchments and bring the rest to the archive of the Holy Father. But it has to happen today, do you hear me? And one more thing: If my sources are to be trusted, a lawyer in the United States is attempting to call the Vatican to account for the operation in Austria. The woman must belong to MacClary’s circle, but I don’t know anything more than that. If this case is really taken up, then you know what must be done.” Lambert looked at him sharply.

  Salvoni would not wither under Lambert’s gaze. “You will remember, Cardinal, that this was my suggestion. We need an airtight official denial, and I am ready to be the one to take responsibility for it. And the Holy Father?”

  “He knows everything that he needs to know. I think he will know how to conduct himself and how to use his influence in Washington.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Our lawyers are doing everything necessary for our and your protection, as much as is possible. If it is enough, then you...then we all will have been lucky. You see, Salvoni, the Holy Father is acting for all of us.”

  Salvoni shrugged his shoulders. This was the first time he had seen Lambert worrying about the fate of an individual. Until now he had always talked about the greater good, inspired by the belief that he had to protect God’s work. Something had changed.

  “I expect you to return from Orvieto immediately after everything is taken care of,” Lambert said.

  “And then?”

  “Then we will use every resource available to us to make sure that Thomas Ryan doesn’t slip through our fingers again.”

  Salvoni tensed. Inside, the little spark of hope that he had just felt flickered out again. Nothing would change as long as people like Lambert were steering the fate of the Church. “I understand, Cardinal.”

  “And Salvoni, if you should fail, this is the number of a Swiss account and an address in Rome. I’ll arrange for your discharge papers, which are backdated to December.” Lambert pressed a credit card, a key, and an address near the Colosseum into Salvoni’s hand. “I hope you won’t need it.”

  * * *

  WASHINGTON, DC – MARCH 23, AFTERNOON

  As they approached Washington, they looked for their Irish diplomatic passes, which had come in handy on this trip. “I still can’t believe we got out of there in one piece,” Deborah said, laughing erratically. Shane thought she might be a bit hysterical from exhaustion and being shot at in Orvieto.

  “I have to admit, I’ve always thought those huge security systems were just something you see in movies, but we were incredibly lucky to find a weak spot,” Shane said, taking a deep breath as the plane started to land. “To think, I used to be afraid of flying.”

  They drove from the airport directly to the laboratory and handed over the only scroll Shane had grabbed for radiocarbon analysis. MacClary had flown back to Washington the night before. Jennifer hadn’t been able to sit in her hotel room anymore and had been in the laboratory for hours brooding over Deborah’s translations.

  “You little devils actually did it!” Jennifer exclaimed as Deborah and Shane came into the laboratory break room.

  “Yes, we did. We managed to photograph everything, as promised, and we brought a pretty exciting document,” Shane said. Just then he remembered how Deborah had been preoccupied with the parchment. “So who was this Sopatros, anyhow?”

  Deborah jumped right into academic mode. “He was the most important head of the neo-Platonic school in Rome, and he most likely took on several students who had been educated by Druids. He was a very well-regarded advisor to Constantine until he was executed in 330 by imperial order because of his pagan beliefs and because he refused to desist with his anti-Christian writings.”

  Shane shook his head. “Yet another victim I didn’t know about. I should start a tally sheet. You know, the more familiar I become with how the Vatican thinks, the smaller they seem to me in their massive, lordly robes. The more I learn, the less I can comprehend why they don’t simply admit what they’ve done. On the contrary, they still see themselves as the great leaders of religion.” He played with a pencil, lost in thought.

  “They still think they have an exclusive hold on salvation,” Jennifer said. “It makes me sick. But with this library, we can break their absolute claim to truth. And I swear to you, I’m going to pull out all the stops to accomplish it.”

  Shane was surprised that Jennifer’s anger failed to motivate him. “I think we need to shoot higher. This library gives the entire Western world a chance to ask ourselves what we are doing, what kind of society we want to create.”

  “I know what you mean,” Jennifer said. “Maybe it really would be enough to make everything we have public and then wait and see what happens. But I want more, Adam. I want the few remaining descendants of the Druids and the entire world to have claim to the historical truth.” Jennifer turned and looked through a window, watching the scientists working with a scroll. Shane was wondering if she ever doubted herself.

  “Where is Ronald, anyhow?” he asked. He was a bit surprised, and not a little disappointed, that MacClary hadn’t been there to give a warm welcome to his two heroes. After all, they now had nearly all the proof they needed.

  “He’s meeting with the justices all day today,” Jennifer said matter-of-factly, “sorting out our options.”

  ROME – MARCH 24, AFTERNOON

  Pope John Paul III was standing in front of the window in his private rooms and looking out onto St. Peter’s Square. He was resting his hands heavily on the windowsill.

  “Holy Father? Cardinal Lambert is requesting a brief audience.”

  The pope turned around slowly. “Very well. Tell him to come in.”

  With slow steps, Lambert entered and bowed down. “Holy Father, I have—”

  “Cardinal,” the pope interrupted him, his voice serious as he showed him the papers the Vatican lawyers had given him that morning. “I expect to have an honest answer. Now. Who is responsible for this?”

  “Holy Father, please! It’s better if you know as little as possible about this. It’s—”

  “As God is my witness, tell me the truth, now!” the pope ordered. “You never told me it had escalated to violence. I have to—”

  “I have already dismissed the per
son responsible, Victor Salvoni, a member of our police force. He was the one who acted without consulting anyone. Even I can’t tell you exactly what happened in Austria.”

  The pope relaxed slightly. “Good. That means Padre...he is a padre, isn’t he?”

  “Yes, Holy Father.”

  “Then Padre Salvoni will take official responsibility in case our defense fails?”

  “Yes, he will. I have already discussed everything with him.”

  The pope nodded slowly. “Do we know the contents of the scrolls that are presumably in Ireland or the United States?”

  “No, unfortunately not, Holy Father.”

  “Well, Cardinal, from what little I have seen, this is extremely dangerous, especially given the overall situation we find ourselves in.”

  The pope had spent half his life studying ancient history, but like so many of his predecessors, he hadn’t felt the need to face the consequences of this bloody history. Now he shuddered to think about the consequences of these wars, wars fought against cultures under the command of the Church. He couldn’t let Lambert see the slightest doubt or weakness.

  “I don’t need to tell you what kind of impression it would make if we were to be officially accused of using violence to obstruct the discovery of this library of the Druids. I will try to use my influence in Washington. Pray that I am successful.”

  Silence and cover-ups. There are so many reasons to hate us, the pope thought, and everything motivated by the fear of taking responsibility. One of these days this mindset of the Church would break more than just its back.

  “Yes, Holy Father, I will take care of things going forward.”

  “Keep me informed on a regular basis. Good day, Cardinal.”

  * * *

  In front of the door to the president’s office, Bill Axton had spent the last few minutes reorganizing the president’s speech, which he had dropped to the floor. He sat down and waited, but, finally, he couldn’t wait any longer, otherwise the president would miss her next appointment. As he opened the door, she waved him inside and Axton could see that she was boiling mad.

 

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