Pandora's Ark (Vatican Knights)

by Jones, Rick

  But it wasn’t about punctuating his place in history, he thought. It was about shining in the eyes of his God.

  In silence they watched the tablets of the Ten Commandments returned, the lid resettled. The Ark was now ready as it sat there caught within its own nimbus of light, its glow moving, living, writhing, taking on a life of its own.

  “So how will you introduce it to the infidels?” asked al-Sherrod. “Now that Umar is no longer the instrument to perform such duties.”

  “I have contacted an Islamic cleric respected by all religious and political authorities,” he answered. “He is a man who believes that Islamic teachings should be taught by way of peace rather than jihad—a true pacifist. I told him that the true Ark of the Covenant was a negotiable item and will be granted as a relic for cherishment to be shared by all, should he follow certain guidelines.”

  “And how will that benefit us? We agreed that Vatican City would serve as Ground Zero. Placing it within the authority of Muslim cleric will serve us no purpose.”

  Al-Ghazi raised a hand and patted the air, the gesture telling al-Sherrod to ‘hold on.’ “The Ark is also symbolic to the Jews regarding their Exodus from Egypt under Pharaoh’s rule and Moses’ journey to Mount Sinai, where the commandments were created by the ‘finger’ of God. This segues into the interest of the Catholics, who use these commandments as the governing laws of their religion.”

  Al-Sherrod waited.

  “Should the good cleric want to lay his eyes upon the Ark,” continued al-Ghazi, “then he is bound to share the Ark in good faith with all denominations that hold a related interest and share in its opening. The Jews. The Muslims. The Catholics—everyone.”

  “And he is in full agreement?”

  “He is a pacifist who is naïve and believes that such a venture is warranted in promoting good will between the faiths. He sees this as an opportunity to show the world that the Muslim approach to religion is truly the path of goodness and peace.” Al-Ghazi walked to the Ark and placed a palm against its gold shell, his face a blend of yellow and gold within its glow. “I have set the parameters,” he went on dispassionately, “by telling him that if this was truly his goal, then he needs to display the Ark at a site for all to share with religious and political dignitaries in attendance.”

  Al-Sherrod continued to remain silent as al-Ghazi stepped away from the Ark.

  Al-Ghazi faced him. “This cleric doesn’t even know that I’m setting him up as the vehicle to achieve the means,” he said. “By offering the Ark to promote good will on his behalf, he is duty bound to adhere by my negotiations without the dignitaries knowing that I am the one calling the shots. The cleric is merely voicing my demands through his proxy.”

  “And he is in compliance with this?”

  Al-Ghazi nodded. “Unwittingly for him, yes. He is negotiating with the Zionist and Catholic factions as we speak. The terms are as follows: The Ark of the Covenant will be shared by all under mutual authority for the opening to be held at Vatican City, and then summarily thereafter transported to a neutral site, which we’re indicating to be Switzerland. He will receive the Ark by way of Jordan, so that it will not be traced back to us.”

  “And these factions readily agreed for the viewing to be held at Vatican City?”

  “Not by the Muslim and Jewish constituency, of course. But the supporting argument was that there were no neutral grounds in Israel for Muslims, and no neutral lands in the Arab states for Jews. Vatican City, however, provided neutrality for all religions without fear of retaliation.”

  Al-Sherrod smiled, obviously impressed. “This cleric, he is esteemed, yes?”

  “Very. He is known to be a gentle man of great faith unwilling to raise a hand in the name of jihad. Everybody knows this. But he will get the job done by my direction not knowing that he is partaking in jihad, nonetheless.”

  They looked at the Ark, realizing that Sakharov’s demons were ready to be released.

  “You know they will open the Ark and examine it to make sure there is nothing amiss,” said al-Sherrod.

  “They will find nothing,” returned al-Ghazi. “The composite of the flat box is undetectable, as is the false bottom. Their dogs, their Geiger counters, their electromagnetic meters or biological detection systems will detect nothing until it’s too late.” For the first time al-Ghazi smiled.

  Sakharov’s technology in its whole was the perfect killing machine.

  And in his mind’s eye, he could see himself pump his fist in victory. Allahu Akbar!

  #

  When the set up of the Ark was completed, once the gears were set in motion, al-Ghazi chose his team wisely.

  He had chosen a team of four; all committed to the service of Allah, all claiming to be equally at peace with surrendering their lives without further consideration. They had been warriors in past skirmishes—whether it was on the front lines during the Iranian war, or later finding service with al-Qaeda after freelance fighting. Either way, they were highly skilled in combat techniques.

  In his setting of his satellite office which overlooked the dust-laden air of the busy Tehran streets, al-Ghazi briefed his team who sat wherever a seat was available.

  “You are al-Qaeda,” he told them. It was the way he started every briefing, always reminding those as to who and what they were, soldiers of war. “You have been given a wonderful opportunity for martyrdom,” he said. “A wonderful opportunity.”

  And then al-Ghazi assigned them their duties in explicit detail from their arrival in Vatican City to their final moment of their lives. Sayyid, the most experienced in computer technology, was assigned to be the trigger man to initiate the program that stimulated the bots. The other three would act as buffers keeping anyone from getting close.

  They would go in silently, set up a station where the frequency from Sayyid’s could be engaged, and set the nanobots alight. All he needed was thirty seconds.

  Thirty . . . seconds.

  Should security attempt to stop them, then they would come up against the buffers.

  Reaching into the drawer of his desk, al-Ghazi removed a brand new laptop and slid it across the desk toward Sayyid. “There’s a program embedded in that computer as an encrypted cipher,” he told him. “It’s encrypted to ensure that the data on board will not be appropriated from outside sources, should you be compromised. You will commit to memory a series of commands that will enable you to decipher and initiate the process. On the final command a series of speakers within the flat box will set off sound waves that will stimulate the bots. Only you will have this information, Sayyid, and no one else. Not even your team.” He fell back into his seat, looking casual. “Do you have any questions?”

  “None, al-Ghazi.” Sayyid took the laptop and ran his fingertips over the smooth cover, a seemingly loving caress.

  “Then Allah will favor you all and Paradise will be yours,” he said. And then: “Allahu Akbar!”

  In unison from his team: “Allahu Akbar!”

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Vatican City, Inside the Papal Chamber

  Father Auciello slid the dossier of Imam Qusim Abul, a Muslim leader who was respected and revered by the Islamic community.

  Pope Pius opened the folder. The picture that stared back at him was an aged man who could have been anywhere from his early seventies to late eighties, given the deep-set wrinkles that lined his face, the vestiges of hard living. His beard was long, tapered and fashioned from minute loops of curly hair.

  “Qusim Abul,” said Auciello. “He’s a respected leader of the Islamic faith who just happens to be in the alleged possession of the Ark of the Covenant. But he’s not saying how he came into its possession. But that he’s amenable to sharing in its glory with all faiths as a promotion of goodwill.”

  Bonasero mulled this over as he stared at the photo. Carefully, he placed the photo down on the desktop. “He has no explanation at all?”

  “None that he’s willing to offer,” he returned. “He’s o
bviously deflecting. But he’s standing firm about the Ark being shared by all at the moment of its opening.”

  “Can he be trusted?”

  “Absolutely,” he said. “He’s a true imam who is frustrated with extremists and abhors violence or anything regarding a jihad.”

  Bonasero nodded. “True Muslims are pacifists,” he said. “Violence is not even a consideration with them.”

  “He’s reached out to all political and religious leaders for a Summit to be held at Vatican City,” said Auciello.

  “Which raises suspicions,” returned Bonasero. “But he is a respected imam.”

  “He’s claiming valid points as to why it should be held here.”

  “Namely?”

  “He’s wants to maintain a safe haven for Jews and Muslims,” he answered. “His points are that there are no real sites of neutrality in any of the Arab or Israeli states since prejudices continue to run high, and guarantees for safety cannot be assured. Right now the Vatican appears to be the likeliest location where multiple denominations can gather in relative safety. For this to happen, however, the imam is requesting that the Ark be placed at a neutral site at the conclusion of the Summit, so that everybody can share in its wealth without one religion maintaining dominion over the relic. Right now Switzerland is being bandied about as the state of neutrality.”

  “It would be a masterful showing of goodwill between the religions,” he said. “Perhaps this is the beginning of true healing.”

  “The imam bears no ill will.”

  The pontiff thought this over. “Of course we’ll have to open the Ark,” he said. “At least to make sure that it bears nothing of ill intent—germ, biological, radioactive, everything needs to be thoroughly examined.”

  “We have scholars, scientists and historians waiting in the wings,” Auciello told him.

  “Then make it happen,” he said firmly. “I’ll contact Kimball and advise him to set up an elite security line surrounding the dignitaries. In the meantime, contact the imam and set up delivery in Rome per my instructions. The Ark will be sent to the lab and examined in a controlled environment to ensure that it’s sanitized. It should take about a week. During that time I want the bishops of the Holy See to extend a hand to all clerics of the Islamic, Hebrew and Catholic faiths. And to formerly invite all the political principals willing to attend the Ark’s revealing. Such a promotion between the denominations will only serve as a message that the religions may not be so different after all.”

  After Father Auciello left the pontiff’s chamber, Bonasero sat alone, musing over the fact that everything looked fine on the surface but not so in his heart. True, the imam was a man of devout faith whose conviction was geared toward sanctity and peace. But on the flip side Bonasero referred to his instincts, sensing something slightly amiss, an inborn caution.

  Though the display of the Ark was too good to pass up, Bonasero would maintain prudence by having it thoroughly examined, at least giving him some control over its introduction. He would then request that the Ark be sealed and placed within a controlled environment prior to transport, and then sequestered upon its arrival in Rome where it would be scientifically examined.

  Being in such an advantageous position, Bonasero Vessucci saw the glory of the Summit. But he also saw a side that could become the critical mass of pure darkness in which the intentional good behind the unveiling held nothing but the absence of light.

  Picking up the phone, Pope Pius called Kimball Hayden.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  Vatican City, Two Days Later

  Upon the clandestine arrival of the Ark in Rome by way of Jordan, a massive security detail made up of the Italian Polizia Municipale and Vatican Security—who in essence were Vatican Knights in security dress—arrived with a hermetically sealed container. The crate was boarded up so that the Polizia Municipale could not see the relic within. They only knew that the item was to be guarded during its transport to the Micron Environmental Laboratory in Rome, where it was to undergo the most advanced technological examination.

  The Micron Laboratory was basically a building that was glass central with concrete walkways and manicured landscaping. In the lower tiers below ground, laboratories with state-of-the-art equipment filled a particular chamber where the platform rose approximately a foot off the floor. The surface of the platform was entirely constructed of solid glass that served as the lens of an x-ray machine. Its purpose was to scan the entire object from underneath. There were also diagnostic imaging machines with robotic arms that moved swiftly from one spot to another on command, snapping photos as it circled the Ark. Imaging scanners were used, emitting doses of radiation to clarify certain aspects of the artifact. Viral scans, infrared technology, and bio checks looking for biochemical fingerprints were also utilized. Geiger counters measuring radioactive traces other than the doses proffered by the imaging scanners were sought for. Swabs of the Ark’s shell were taken, looking for biological or chemical attachments.

  Over the past few days tests were conducted repeatedly in search of anomalous readings. But the findings were consistent and nothing out of the ordinary was found.

  The Ark was completely sanitized.

  The only anomaly, at least according to scripture, was that the Ark appeared to contain the tablets of the Ten Commandments and nothing more. Missing was the staff of Aaron and the golden bowl of manna.

  After the fifth day of continuous testing with negative results, the Vatican was informed of its findings.

  Bonasero Vessucci had set his reservations aside and invited the Ark to be transported to the Basilica, where it would be held in display behind cordoned-off partitions until its unveiling before the congregation of VIP’s in front of the Papal Altar.

  On the sixth day it was crated and transported to the Basilica, where it was placed in the Cathedra Petri behind partitioned walls. The security was immense.

  Inside the Cathedra Petri, Bonasero stood before the Ark in paralytic awe, realizing that what he felt was novel. The Ark held something wonderfully golden in its existence, something tangible and intangible at the same time. It was the feeling of true serenity, the feeling of seeing the advent of His true Light. In homage he placed his hands on the Ark and closed his eyes, almost expecting to see or feel something spectacular.

  Kimball stood behind him, watching, seeing the Ark as nothing but a container encrusted with gold.

  “Isn’t it wonderful, Kimball? Can you feel it?”

  “Feel what?”

  Bonasero stood back with eyes filled with adoration. “It’s realness,” he said. Kimball laid a hand on the Ark, but couldn’t sense or feel what it was that Bonasero was experiencing. “Uh, well, not really,” he said.

  Bonasero smiled. In his heart he knew it to be real. And for his hands to touch the Ark, he considered, was a gift from God.

  “Tomorrow,” said Bonasero, “world dignitaries will arrive. Are we prepared to ensure their safety for the unveiling on the day after?”

  Kimball nodded. “The Polizia Municipale will be posted at the outskirts of Vatican City,” he told him. “The Swiss Guard will be positioned at all entrances, and Vatican Security will float around the city in plain clothes looking for anyone on the grid who may appear suspicious. The Vatican Knights will remain ready to be dispatched to problem spots, should they arise.”

  Bonasero nodded.

  Everything appeared to be in place.

  #

  The very moment Kimball and Bonasero Vessucci stood inside the Papal Altar and the Baldacchino, Sayyid and his team entered Rome and took residence in one of the hotels. The four men shared a two-bedroom suite that overlooked the ruins of Augustus’s palace.

  Sayyid sat on the balcony, a beautiful day with a clear blue sky, his laptop on the table before him, tapping away. He pulled up the rune-like encryptions, deciphered the instructions, and committed them to memory. Without running the actual program, he used the instructions to run facsimiles and engaged in false
scenarios that enabled the bots to initiate. He did this several times until the process became habit, his fingers and mind exercising the procedure so that the real program could be set off through muscle and finger memory within seconds. It was like a pianist perfecting the craft of learning a musical score until every chord was perfected.

  After painstaking hours, after the once blue sky began to evolve into sunset blends of reds and yellows and oranges, he closed the lid.

  He was ready.

  And in less than twenty-four hours he and his team would be in Paradise while the infidels burned in the pits of Hell.

  Allahu Akbar!

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  Vatican City, The Day Before the Unveiling

  Sayyid left the hotel with two of his guards and the laptop, which always seemed affixed to his hand, and headed to a café less than a quarter of a mile from their stay. They maintained an upbeat tempo, their voyage to Allah getting closer with every passing moment, which caught the attention of two Polizia Municipale, who were informed to profile anyone of Mid-East origin within earshot of the Vatican.

  Pictures were taken and questions were asked at the hotel’s front desk.

  One officer learned that there were four registrants in total, all arriving the day before and paying for the suite in full with Euros, a red flag. The clerk was then directed by the investigating officer to keep things under wraps without giving an explanation. He simply did what he was told with no questions asked.

  Inside the café, where Sayyid and his team had been followed by two plain-clothed members of the Polizia Municipale, photos were taken under covert conditions, and then forwarded electronically to Operations, where they were scanned with facial recognition software.

  Of the three men under surveillance two were on the Watch List, the third remained unknown, and the fourth had yet to be seen.

  And then the joviality stopped, Sayyid’s team getting to their feet and quickly exiting the café. The two Polizia Municipale followed, reaching the sidewalk in time to see the men round the bend of an alleyway.