by Rene Fomby
“And the south?” Constantine asked, scribbling notes on a pad someone had conveniently laid in front of him.
“The U.N. has established a corridor to Naples for the Muslims. There, the plan apparently is to ferry them back to North Africa using ships from the U.S. Navy. Sort of a complete reversal of how the entire migrant operation has been functioning up to this point. When you give the word, our priests are ready to put the south to the torch, the first step in seizing control. The Italian government is apparently abandoning Rome, setting up a new capital in Venice, with minor offices in Florence and Milan. That works in our favor—now nothing will stand in the way of our making Rome the capital of the south, our part of Italy. The heart of the Empire.”
“Excellent.” Constantine turned to another aide as Boucher’s assistant sat down. “And the move? How are we coming on that?”
“We would ideally like another week, Your Grace, but we can pull the trigger at any time you command. We have the packages all packed up and ready for delivery to Washington D.C., Paris and London—”
“And the Russians still think it’s being diverted to Iran?”
“Yes, Your Grace, as far as they’re aware, it’s all being targeted toward the Iranian weapons research program, circumventing all of the sanctions that have been put in place by the U.S. and Europe. Meanwhile, the assault ships are steaming toward the Bosporus as we speak. By tonight, the charges will have all been attached to the bridge, so splitting the city in two will be a piece of cake. The only thing still missing is your video.”
“Yes, well, that is complete and ready for broadcast, but I would like to hold onto it a little longer. Less chance of its contents leaking out to the wrong eyes and ears and spoiling our little surprise.” Constantine looked up from his notes, a small smile creeping across his eyes. “Gentlemen. Ladies. We are at the very cusp of a brave, exciting new world. The old order, the world that Satan has held in his grasp for many thousands of years, has now seen its last days. The Messiah has mounted his Heavenly steed and drawn his righteous sword, that all of humanity will be humbled in his glory. It is time to pack up and prepare for our new home. Just as we Christians must be born again in order to open our hearts to receive our Lord and Savior, so shall the old city be reborn into a golden, shining splendor unlike anything this world has ever seen. Before this week is out, I promise you, we shall all be standing together in her streets, rejoicing in her majesty and in the new world that is to come. The Kingdom of God, and its ancient capital, risen from the ashes once again. New Rome.”
64
Madrid, Spain
Sanders commandeered a Navy C-20 Gulfstream scheduled for a repositioning flight to Miami to instead ferry Gavin to Torrejón Air Base, a Spanish Air Force facility located next to Madrid–Torrejón Airport. Having stayed up much of the night packing his equipment for whatever was going to go down in Toledo, Gavin was more than happy to grab a little extra shuteye during the short flight, something that would have been difficult to pull off in the F-15E Strike Eagle.
As Gavin disembarked, he was pleased to see Ramon Mendez waiting for him in a light gray Mercedes Benz mini-SUV. “Ramon! My man! What’s it been, two weeks already?”
“Seems like forever, brother. Here, let me help you with your luggage. Looks like you packed a whole lot more shit than last time.”
“Yeah, I know. All of Dez’s comments about my traveling light cut me to the core, you know? By the way, she here yet?”
“Coming in commercial. Her plane lands in about an hour, so we have a little time to kill. You had breakfast yet?”
“No, and I’m starving. What you got around here that won’t have me heaving it back up in fifteen minutes?”
“You’re in luck. The little lady packed us some brown baggers before I headed out to catch my flight. And I must say, she’s quite the cook. You got to get you a French girl, I’m telling you. Every bit as good in the kitchen as she is in the boudoir, you know?”
“I bet you never want her to hear you saying that, my friend,” Gavin chuckled.
“You got that right. Yvette could take us both in a fair fight, take us down hard, along with any two buddies we brought along. She’s quite the lady.”
“Yeah, Andy’s pretty much the same way. We gotta remember to never let those two get together, or we’re toast, for sure.” Gavin stole a glance over Ramon’s shoulder. “So, where’s the grub? I could eat the north side of a south-bound mule right about now.”
“Front seat, passenger side. There’s a thermos in there, too, and some foam coffee cups. I’ll get your luggage packed away in the back and join you in a sec.”
※
An hour later, fully refueled and ready for action, they pulled up in front of the departure lounge where Dez was already waiting for them, tapping one foot on the curb impatiently. She had on a black ribbed turtleneck pulled down hard over khaki-green cargo pants. Black mid-calf boots polished off the ready-for-battle ensemble.
Gavin gave her a short whistle as Ramon grabbed her small carry-on to toss in the back of the SUV. “Whoa, girl, you look loaded for bear. Think we’re going into battle or something?”
She laughed. “This? No, I was out on a date when my commander called and ordered me to get my butt to the airport on the double. Luckily I always keep an overnighter stashed in the back of my car, just in case. As it was, I would’ve still missed my flight if I hadn’t called ahead and pulled rank to keep it at the gate.”
“A date? At this time of the morning? You sure that wasn’t the overnighter?” Ramon had just joined them in the car, and he and Gavin exchanged a high-five over that little crack.
“Funny. A regular Jerry Lewis.” Dez appeared to be trying to scorch Ramon with a look, but Gavin caught just a hint of her lips curling up on the ends. “One suggestion, Mendez: keep the day job.”
Ramon and Gavin were still laughing as they pulled out of the air base, headed for the Atocha Train Station in the heart of Madrid. Once they were out on the highway, Ramon proceeded to catch them up with what little he knew about the Spanish priest.
“He’s a mystery wrapped in an enigma, as they say. My Coptic contact met him through some program the Catholic church put on to encourage better communications between Christianity’s far-flung sects, and they’ve been exchanging emails ever since. Evidently the Spanish guy reached out to him for advice on what to do. Seems he’d gotten himself all caught up somehow in William Tulley’s plans for starting a new Christian flavor-of-the-month club, some kind of new branch of the faith, when suddenly he woke up and realized he was very close to going too far, that he could very easily wind up being excommunicated from the real Church. So he panicked.”
“So where do you come into all this?” Dez asked. “How did it wind up falling into your lap?”
Ramon caught her eye momentarily in the rearview mirror. “The Coptic church used to be huge in Egypt, even as recently as about a hundred years ago. But like most of the Christian churches in the Muslim world, they’ve almost completely faded away, to the point where now the Copts are literally hanging on by their fingertips. The problem isn’t so much official oppression anymore—the current government of Egypt is actually pretty supportive of the Coptic church, a group it sees as a useful ally against the extremist Muslim Brotherhood—but more a factor of simple math. In nature, a species generally either thrives or dies, and the Copts have grown so small in number they’ve become functionally unsustainable and irrelevant. Nevertheless, like the Egyptians, our government maintains a number of back-channel connections to the Coptic church. As long as it still exists, it provides a steady stream of intel on the undercurrents of Egyptian society. The priest was simply one of those connections, albeit a very important one.”
“I see,” Dez said, nodding. “And this Coptic priest of yours, I take it he’s pretty far up in the organization? Which would explain why the Spanish priest would turn to him for advice?”
“Exactly,” Ramon acknowledged. “But t
hat’s as much as I’m allowed to say about that right now.”
Dez nodded and pointed out their turnoff for the train station. “How did you leave things regarding the rendezvous tonight? And why can’t we meet up a little earlier? I’d feel a whole lot better about all of this if we could meet him in broad daylight, preferably with a large crowd all around us.”
“Ditto on that,” Gavin chimed in.
“No, that’s precisely what he’s trying to avoid. Too much extra attention. Meeting us in secret in the middle of the night is dangerous enough for him. If his bishop got word of any of it, there’d be questions about what was going on and why, questions he might not be able to answer. Apparently, what he’s involved in is pretty major, major enough to possibly end up with him getting defrocked. Or worse, excommunicated from the church entirely.”
“Worse than molesting a child?” Gavin asked, incredulous. “Those guys just got a slap on the wrist and a reassignment to a different church.”
Ramon shook his head as he pulled the SUV into an open parking space. “Those were just crimes against the people, as heinous as they might seem to the rest of us. What he did was a crime against the Church, which they interpret as a crime against God himself. I know it seems stupid, but you two weren’t raised in the Church like I was. Things seem very different from the inside looking out.”
“Okay, regardless of what we think about any of this, the important thing to remember is how he sees the world. Exposure is apparently his biggest fear, so it’s something we’ll just have to live with.” Ramon had placed the car in park, so Gavin toggled the lock on his door and hopped out. “Last one on the train buys lunch!” he hollered, walking briskly to the back of the SUV to grab some useful items out of the overstuffed toybox he had brought along with him from Rabat.
※
Once they got settled into their seats, Gavin pulled out a map of Toledo and a detailed map of the cathedral he had downloaded off the Internet the night before.
“I think it’s a safe bet he’ll insist on meeting us somewhere inside, or at least very near the cathedral. Toledo is located on a large hill, with the train station at the base and the cathedral roughly at the summit, where anyone approaching the city can be suitably awed by the splendor of God’s palace from quite a long distance away. The main road from the station to the cathedral is pretty much foot traffic only, so my apologies to all, but get ready for a long slog uphill.”
He pointed to a small spot on the map. “As we get into the city, one of the first places we’ll come to is the Plaza de Zocodover. That’s the main square of Toledo, and it’s probably a good place to grab something to eat. And, Dez, thanks in advance for the fare we are about to receive. Slowpoke.”
“Hey! You guys ditched me back there without handing me my ticket!” she protested. “I had to buy a tourist-class ticket just to get through the damned security checkpoint!”
Gavin shook his head with a wry grin. “Sounds to me like a sorry excuse to get out of buying lunch. What do you think, Ramon?”
“I guess some people are just born whiners, Gavin. And cheap. They’re born cheap, did I mention that? Especially the French.”
“Whatever,” Dez moaned dramatically, turning her attention back to the map. “Okay, after lunch—you’re welcome, by the way—we head up the Calle del Comercio. I assume that’s Spanish for Street of Tourist Shops …”
Gavin nodded. “From what I saw on YouTube, it’s all one rip-off storefront after another, hawking everything from obscene aprons to cheap ass swords. Apparently, Toledo used to be known for its swords, so you’ll have plenty of opportunities to pick up a genuine Made-in-China Toledo sword on almost every corner.”
“Good to know,” Ramon chipped in. “Because, as you may well know, I built up quite a reputation as a swordsman, back in the day.”
Dez leaned over pointedly to check out his lap. “Hmm. Looks more like a dagger to me.”
Gavin let out a small snort. “Actually, a shriveled-up little shank would be more accurate. Trust me, I’ve seen him in the shower.”
“Hilarious. Truly hilarious, both of you.” Ramon tapped the center of the map. “But back to this. We’ll get to the cathedral just after lunch, so I assume we’ll have plenty of time to kill. What’s the plan?”
“Hopefully you’ll be able to reestablish contact with the priest during lunch, so by the time we head up the hill we’ll have a firmer timeline,” Gavin suggested. “I’m just going to assume that we’ll wind up meeting inside the church, so once we reach the cathedral, I think we split up and enter the church one at a time, so we don’t draw too much attention. Scope out the lay of the land, build an inner map to go with the one we’re looking at here, then meet back up in front of—” He tapped the map. “Here, the Mezquita de las Tornerías, whatever the heck that is.”
“Mezquita means mosque in Spanish.” Dez explained.
“I should have known that,” Ramon pointed out. “’Course, we didn’t have a whole lot of mosques where I grew up in El Paso.”
Gavin started folding up the map. “Okay, then, we have the next few hours worked out. After that, if we still have plenty of time to kill before the meeting, I guess we can just go all touristy, check out the town. I understand Toledo has a pretty rich history. And Ramon can check out the swords if he wants.”
Dez pulled a small guide book out of her bag. “I grabbed this as I was leaving the airport in Madrid. Didn’t have time to look up anything about Toledo online before I left, so I thought it might be helpful to get a better idea of what we’re working with. From what I could read in the car before we got to the train station, at one point Toledo was apparently the capital city for the Holy Roman Empire, and it’s also famous for being a shining example of cooperation between the various groups of Christians, Jews and Muslims who lived together in peace, up until Queen Isabella drove the Jews and Muslims out of Spain in 1492.”
“1492? Isabella? Isn’t that the queen who financed Columbus’ voyages to the New World?” Gavin asked.
“The same. She was also the queen who started the Spanish Inquisition, beginning around 1480 or so. Anyone who practiced any form of religion even slightly out of step with the official Roman Catholic theology was branded a heretic, and either had to fall into line or be burned at the stake. Jews were forced to convert to Catholicism at sword point, and those who refused were either killed outright or driven out of Spain. Ironically, even though Catholic law technically forbade conversion under threat of force, the Jews who underwent all this were forbidden from converting back to Judaism after Isabella passed into history. Kind of like the way Islam is a one-way street today. You can go inside but you can never leave.”
“Like the Hotel California,” Gavin noted with a snort.
“Exactly. So, there’s a Jewish synagogue from way back when that’s located somewhat near the cathedral. If we get a chance I’d like to check it out.”
“All right with me,” Ramon agreed, as Gavin nodded his approval.
※
Lunch was an easily forgettable collection of the nondescript tapas that seemed to make up most of the diet of modern Spain, along with paella. It did give Ramon a chance to catch up with the Coptic priest back in Egypt, who passed along a message from his Spanish colleague. The meeting would be scheduled for midnight in the cathedral’s choir, and the priest insisted Gavin should come alone.
“I don’t like it,” Dez insisted. “Dark church, middle of the night, no backup. Too many things could go wrong.”
Gavin took a sip of his Diet Coke and considered his options. “I agree, Dez, but what other choice do we have? Every single day that goes by without a rescue brings Andy all that much closer to getting killed—or worse.”
“We can stake out hidden niches in the church where we could cover you,” Ramon suggested.
“And risk spooking the priest, who by the way knows where every single one of those niches might be? No, I’ve got to go in alone while you two cover me fro
m the outside. I’ve got the app on my smart watch the CIA guys loaded up for me. One tap from me and you’ll know I’m in trouble. It’s the only option open to us.”
Dez nodded unhappily. “Understood. But this afternoon Ramon and I have to map out every single step we’ll need to take to get us into the choir ASAP, d’accord? If you decide to punch the button, every second we waste getting to you could be critical.” She caught Ramon’s attention. “When we get to the church, pull out your phone and put it into video mode. That’s such a thing these days with the younger crowd, nobody will look twice at it, but it will give us a record we can run through later this afternoon to fine-tune the plan.”
“Good idea,” Ramon agreed. “And that way, instead of spending our time in the church memorizing distances and angles, we can focus on picking out all of the entrances and exits, and everywhere a sniper might be hiding when Gavin walks in there alone at midnight.”
Gavin swigged the last of his Coke and stood up. “Okay, then, we have a plan, at least for the next few hours. Shall we get started up the hill? It’s still lunchtime, and the crowds will probably start filling up the inside of the cathedral the longer we wait. We’ll have plenty of time to rest our butts later this afternoon.”
“Right behind you, boss.” Ramon stood up and reached over to pull Dez’s chair out as she joined them. Gavin threw a few euros down on the table for a tip, and they quickly headed out of the restaurant and up toward the cathedral, squatting patiently for them at the top of the hill.