Lorenzio shook his head, a contrite grimace flitting across his face. ‘Not that we’ve managed to uncover in the twenty-odd years we have been investigating them. Even though we suspect them of having been behind dozens of political and religious assassinations in the last century, as well as the theft of important archaeological and theological artifacts, they have kept the identity of their group surprisingly well concealed. The only distinctive characteristic their members bear is the Rose Croix tattoo on their necks. That and the fact that the majority appear to be of a pureblood immortal-human lineage like myself.’
She studied the photograph on the desk, her mind whirling with the information they had just learned. ‘There are also immortals amongst them.’
Lorenzio drew a breath in sharply. ‘Are you certain?’
‘Yes,’ Alexa replied.
The archbishop’s hands shook slightly as he placed them on the desk. ‘Is Dimitri aware of this?’
‘He is,’ she said with a nod. The direction the conversation had taken troubled her as well. The connection between the secret sect behind the disappearance of Reznak’s tombs and the Catholic Church was not good news.
Immortals had shaped the course of human religions since the very dawn of civilization, and none more so than the Catholic Church. To this day, both the Crovirs and the Bastians held positions of power within every single faith group in the world. The fact that Reznak’s Immortal Culture and History Section was unaware of the existence of Lorenzio’s commission indicated that immortals were not part of the group that had been assigned the task of investigating Cavaleti’s sect.
Alexa wondered how the Crovir First Council would react when she relayed what the archbishop had told them. The ramifications, she sensed, could be explosive. ‘Have you reached any conclusions as to their objectives?’ she inquired curtly.
Lorenzio hesitated. ‘Like Professor Sadik, I have been suspicious for some time that they are planning an…event of sorts.’
A chill ran down her spine at the archbishop’s words. She exchanged a glance with Jackson and saw the same concern reflected in his gaze.
The older man’s face had grown pale. ‘Although the members of our commission disagree heavily on this matter, I for one have come to only one logical conclusion as to their possible motive,’ he said finally in a low voice. ‘I think they’re planning the downfall of the Catholic Church.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Jackson, stunned.
‘It’s exactly as it sounds,’ said Lorenzio, his eyes dull with fear. ‘I believe Cavaleti and his sect are planning the destruction of the single largest religion in the world today.’
‘That’s impossible,’ the Harvard professor said hoarsely. ‘You must be wrong. If that were to happen…’
‘Yes. It would bring a magnitude of chaos the world has never seen before,’ said Lorenzio, finishing Jackson’s unspoken thought. ‘Society as we know it would fall apart, and millions would die in the resulting wars that will scorch the Earth.’ He clasped his hands tightly together. ‘Sodom and Gomorrah would look like child’s play in the face of the destruction that would transpire.’
An icy feeling raced across Alexa’s mind as she stared at the archbishop. Although she personally held no strong feelings about religion, she could not deny its crucial role in the world. It was the glue that had held many a civilization together through times of woe, and it had united entire races in ways that surpassed the bonds of blood.
‘But why?’ said Jackson.
Lorenzio sighed and sat back in his chair. ‘If we go by the assumption that Cavaleti’s sect abides by the principles of esoteric wisdom, then we can assume that its members believe, as do so many other disciples of esotericism, that they are special, mystical beings who belong to an inner circle of enlightened individuals destined to discover and preach the divine truths.’ A humorless chuckle left his lips. ‘It may sound farcical and utterly mad when it’s voiced out loud, but I am convinced that this is their underlying ideology.’ He glanced at the document wallet in front of him. ‘I believe that the purpose of the sect’s infiltration of the geopolitical and socioreligious spheres of the most powerful countries in the world is to allow them to wield greater influence on the human race once the Catholic Church falls. Some of the individuals we suspect of being part of Cavaleti’s group are important members of society, from businessmen and cultural leaders, to religious figures and politicians.’
Jackson studied the archbishop for a moment. ‘Could he be trying to establish his own religion?’
Lorenzio’s eyes glimmered with strong emotion. ‘That thought has crossed my mind. I think Cavaleti is insane enough to think that he is a god. But the connection with the Mutus Liber is one aspect of the sect’s actions I have yet to comprehend.’ His fingers drummed a short beat on the polished surface of the desk. ‘The fact that Cavaleti has come out of hiding troubles me. I fear their plans are now accelerating and the Event may not be far away.’
Alexa looked at the photographs again. ‘Isn’t one of the reputed properties of the Philosopher’s Stone its ability to transform common metals into gold and silver?’ she queried.
‘Yes,’ said Lorenzio with a nod. ‘It is also said to possess the ability to heal all ills.’
‘And prolong the life of any person who consumes part of it,’ said Jackson in a distracted voice. He was staring at the depiction of the Rose Croix on the yellow parchment on the desk.
Alexa went still. ‘Prolong? To what extent?’
‘The other name for the Philosopher’s Stone is the Elixir of Life,’ said Jackson. ‘Nicholas Flamel was said to have discovered it in the fourteenth century and achieved immortality, along with his wife.’
His words made the hairs on the back of her neck rise.
‘I would not concern myself too much with that possibility,’ said Lorenzio dismissively at her expression. ‘The search for the Philosopher’s Stone is one of the most protracted and unsuccessful ventures of all alchemists, scientists, and philosophers since the dawn of their respective fields. I doubt Cavaleti’s sect possesses the knowledge and ability to discover what is essentially thought to be a mythical entity.’
Jackson suddenly stiffened. He looked up from the Rose Croix illustration and gazed at Alexa blindly, his face ashen. ‘The tombs,’ he whispered.
She stared at him grimly. The exact same thought had flashed through her mind in the last minute. The link between the Rose Croix sect and the Mutus Liber could very well be Reznak’s discovery in Egypt. The how and why still remained to be determined, if the connection did indeed exist.
‘Tombs?’ Lorenzio asked with a puzzled frown. ‘What tombs?’
They had not told the archbishop about Reznak’s findings in the Eastern Desert. Alexa hesitated; judging from Lorenzio’s expression, neither had her godfather. ‘About a month ago, Dimitri discovered a pair of caves in Egypt. He believes it was the resting place of the original immortals who gave birth to our two races,’ she finally admitted reluctantly.
The older man’s face cleared. ‘You mean he finally found what he had been seeking for all those years?’ he uttered slowly. A smile broke across his lips. ‘He didn’t mention it when we spoke last night. That’s—’
Two shots shattered the clamor of the crowd in St. Peter’s Square and drowned out the archbishop’s next words.
Chapter Fifteen
Lorenzio jerked twice. A trail of blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth and a crimson bloom erupted above his right ear. He fell forward slowly, his open eyes gazing blindly at Alexa and Jackson.
Alexa was on the ground before the dead man’s head thudded on the desk. She grabbed Jackson’s sleeve and yanked him sharply out of his chair just as a salvo of rounds ripped through the open window and peppered the leather upholstery of the backrest he had occupied. He landed heavil
y next to her, air leaving his lips in a startled gasp. Fragments of feathers and foam rained down around them.
For a single breathless moment, shocked silence fell outside the Basilica. It was replaced by panicked screams.
Alexa rolled to one knee, pulled the Sigs out in one fluid movement, scanned the view framed by the open window, and fired at the figure standing in the shadow of the travertine statue of St. Matthias on the northern end of the Basilica’s rooftop. Stone chips erupted from the pedestal beneath the Apostle’s feet, inches from the semi-automatic sniper rifle held by the assassin. The man moved back, folded the bipod of the gun, and disappeared from view. Anger surged through her veins.
The killer had been wearing the regular duty uniform of a Swiss Guard.
Keeping out of the line of sight of the neighboring roof terraces, she sprang to her feet and strode to the side of the window.
‘Shit,’ said Jackson dully. He sat up on the floor and stared at Lorenzio’s still figure.
Alexa ignored him and studied the scene outside.
Chaos reigned inside the square as tourists fled down the steps of the Basilica and across the vast piazza toward the Via della Conciliazione. In the seconds it took her to inspect the grounds, she identified ten officers wearing the dark blue uniforms of the Vigilanza, the Vatican’s police force, as well as eight Swiss Guards; the men surged resolutely in the opposite direction of the retreating crowd and spread out in an organized fashion toward the openings to the church and the Apostolic Palace. More would undoubtedly follow.
Running footsteps echoed in the corridor outside the archbishop’s office. Alexa’s gaze skimmed over the man slumped lifelessly over the desk as frantic pounding erupted at the door. The doorknob twisted and rattled loudly against the ornate escutcheon plate.
‘Barricade it,’ she instructed Jackson sharply. She turned to scrutinize the window for an escape route.
There was a sharp intake of breath behind her. ‘Look, I’m sure if we explain what happened here—’ Jackson started to say as he climbed to his feet.
Alexa scowled at him over her shoulder. ‘We cannot account for our presence here,’ she said abruptly. Not without losing precious time and getting the Crovir Councils involved, she thought. She knew without a doubt that the two of them would be arrested as the prime suspects in the archbishop’s murder. Whether the assassin had planned it that way remained to be seen.
A muscle clenched in Jackson’s jaw and his eyes darkened.
She turned her back on him. There was a grunt and the dull, grating noise of a heavy object being pushed across the parquet floor. As she contemplated scaling the wall to the courtyard two floors below, several Swiss Guards appeared inside the enclosure. One of them looked up and pointed excitedly in her direction.
A thump sounded from the other side of the room. She looked around. Jackson was leaning against the walnut cabinet he had shoved in front of the door. The muscles in his arms and neck bulged, and another grunt left his lips as his feet shifted an inch across the floor.
‘I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up!’ he managed to utter between gritted teeth.
Angry shouts erupted from the guards in the corridor outside. A narrow gap had appeared between the door and its jamb. Someone yelled out Lorenzio’s name. As Alexa watched, the breach expanded by another half-inch.
Less than a minute had passed since the first shot that killed Lorenzio was fired.
Alexa’s gaze shifted sideways. She grabbed the army knife from the pocket of her cargo pants, yanked on the bulky drapes that framed one side of the window until the rod tore from the wall, and swiftly cut the thick nylon cord from the tracks.
‘Whatever you’re gonna do, do it now!’ Jackson shouted from the doorway, his feet skidding another inch across the parquet.
She snatched the document wallet from the desk, shoved it inside her jacket, and tied one end of the makeshift rope around one of her sais. She lifted a leg over the windowsill. Cries of alarm rose from the guards in the courtyard as she balanced on the edge some sixty feet above the ground.
Alexa ignored the men below as she spun the cord in her hands in increasing circles, her eyes never leaving her target. Five seconds later, she let go of the end of the rope attached to the dagger.
The blade glinted in the sun as it sailed straight and true through the air. It dropped across the railing of the balustrade that topped the straight wing connecting the north colonnade of St. Peter’s Square to the Basilica, and looped around the stonework once.
She tugged on the rope. The makeshift grappling hook held.
A crash resounded from the door. The cabinet moved. Jackson was pushed a foot across the floor. The head of an angry guard appeared in the narrow opening behind him.
Alexa raised her other leg over the windowsill until she stood on the narrow shelf outside the building. She extended a hand toward Jackson and barked ‘Let’s go!’
He inhaled sharply and sprinted across the room toward her.
She closed her fingers around his wrist as he scaled the window ledge, twisted the nylon cord around her left fist, and stepped off the edge of the facade.
A strangled gasp escaped Jackson’s lips as they fell through empty space. The sai dagger ground against the stone of the balustrade and the rope frayed under their combined weight.
In the courtyard below, the guards froze in their tracks and watched aghast as they soared above their heads.
It took but seconds for them to travel the fifty feet to the colonnade. At the end of their arc, Alexa swung Jackson up. He reached out and his fingers made contact with the stone parapet. He grasped the railing firmly with one hand and pulled her toward him. She stepped up lightly against the outer edge of the balustrade and leapt onto the roof of the colonnade.
Snatching the sai free, she raced alongside him toward the Basilica. Angry cries rose from the guards and officers on the ground. Someone shouted ‘Stop!’ in Italian.
They skidded to a standstill next to the statue of St. Thomas Aquinus at the end of the colonnade. ‘Now what?’ exclaimed Jackson.
The crack of a bullet tore the air behind them and chipped the stonework by their feet. Alexa glanced over her shoulder toward the palace.
The guards had discovered Lorenzio’s body. An officer stood at the window of the archbishop’s office. A second figure joined him. Their guns glinted in the sunlight as they took aim.
She turned, vaulted over the balustrade, and jumped toward an arched balcony in the bell tower that formed the north vestibule of the Basilica’s portico. A grunt left her lips as she struck the stone railing with her chest. She grabbed it with an iron grip and steadied herself on the narrow ledge beneath.
‘You’re kidding me,’ said Jackson dully from the rooftop of the colonnade. He stared at the large drop that separated them. Shots pelted the ground around him. He swore and moved into the narrow shelter afforded by the statue.
‘Jump!’ Alexa ordered.
He hesitated for a heartbeat before climbing over the balustrade. ‘I can’t believe I’m doing this,’ he said, then leapt toward her.
She caught his outstretched arm and heard a whoosh of air escape his lungs. ‘Ever been to the circus?’ she said. She looked down at him, the buzz of the chase sending a flush of heat to her cheeks.
Jackson dangled from her grasp and gazed incredulously from her face to the Basilica’s facade below his feet. ‘You are one crazy chick, you know that?’ he said, shaking his head.
Alexa smiled grimly and swung him effortlessly down the wall until his feet found purchase on the stone sill of an alcove. She dropped past him to the balustrade of the vaulted window below, grabbed his wrist as he jumped, and lowered him to the next ledge.
They reached the base of the bell tower moments later and landed in the square.<
br />
Confusion still reigned outside the Basilica. Hundreds of harried visitors were pouring out through the entrances to the church and spilling down the wide stairs toward the piazza’s ellipse. Sirens rose in the distance beyond the borders of Vatican City.
They broke into a run and were rapidly engulfed in the sea of people. As they entered the shadow cast by the statue of St. Paul, five uniformed Vigilanza officers closed in on them. The men had their weapons drawn.
‘Stop!’ the lead officer shouted. He stopped a dozen feet away and pointed his gun in their direction, his outstretched arms locked in a shooter’s stance.
Alexa skidded to a halt. Jackson stumbled to a standstill beside her.
‘Hands behind your head! Get down on your knees!’ the officer continued harshly in Italian. He took a careful step toward them.
Alexa caught a flash of blue out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head and froze.
Twenty-five feet beyond the circle of officers that surrounded them, a figure in the duty uniform of the Swiss Guard was strolling down the steps of the Basilica. As he hefted the bag on his back, a dark mark that looked like the top of a Rose Croix tattoo peeked above the white collar at his nape. The man glanced at them over his shoulder before continuing in the direction of the piazza.
It was the sniper from the rooftop.
Her hands fisted at her side. Alexa headed resolutely toward Lorenzio’s killer.
Four of the Vigilanza officers wavered and glanced at each other uneasily.
The lead policeman showed no such hesitation. He scowled and moved directly in her path. ‘I said stop—’
She spun and side-kicked the gun out of his hand. The man staggered back, his eyes wide with shock and anger. This time, the other officers did not hesitate.
Alexa blocked a blow aimed at her head, jabbed a man in the solar plexus, hook-kicked a third officer in the stomach, and back-fisted the fourth man in the nose. A cross-punch sailed toward her head. She slipped out of the way, grabbed the policeman’s head, and drove her knee into his face as she yanked him down. A shot flashed past her cheek. She looked over her shoulder.
King's Crusade (Seventeen) Page 16