Sign of the Cross

by Chris Kuzneski

  Raindrops started to fall as they got in the SUV and weaved their way back and forth through a thick maze of trees. It came down even harder when they eased into a large clearing at the foot of the mountain. A wooden barricade with more danger signs stopped them at the entrance to the quarry. Payne took a moment to study the terrain before he moved the barrier aside. What looked like a mountain from afar turned out to be the shell of one. Workers had gutted the entire peak, carving several paths that zigzagged at forty-five-degree angles from the base to the apex. Chalky residue spilled over the rock face like white blood. Leaning back, Payne tried to examine the summit, hoping to see what was lurking in the fog and mist one thousand feet above the ground, but the falling rain and setting sun prevented it.

  Payne slipped back into the car and started gathering supplies. ‘What’s our goal here?’

  Boyd looked at the mountain and shrugged. Accounts from Prince Eugene’s journal were over two centuries old, so there was no telling what was up there. Possibly remnants of a house. Or maybe the laughing man’s grave. The sobering part was they were about to risk their lives climbing up a slip-and-slide, and they might find nothing at all.

  To aid their cause, Jones rummaged through the trunk and found a heavy-duty flashlight, a tire iron, and some rope he wrapped around his shoulder and waist. ‘You never know.’

  Payne nodded, realizing the unexpected should always be expected on a bad-weather mission. Even more so with an inexperienced crew. Common sense told him that they should postpone their climb until tomorrow, but he knew it was only a matter of time before someone spotted them. So he said, ‘OK, ladies, time’s a wastin’. We got us a mountain to conquer.’

  Of course if Payne had known that two of them wouldn’t be climbing back down, he wouldn’t have been so glib.

  69

  If not for the weather, Payne would’ve picked up on the ambush a lot sooner. The paths carved into the side of the mountain were covered with a layer of white powder, similar to coarse talc, which had been there since mining had stopped. As they strode up the path, their footsteps appeared briefly like they were walking along a tropical beach before they were whisked away by the tide. One moment they were there, the next they were gone, thanks to the downpour.

  Each droplet that fell on the path splashed onto their legs and shoes, making them look like ghosts from the shins down. It also made the footing treacherous, forcing them to tie the rope around their waists in case someone started to slide. But even if that happened, the farthest anyone would’ve gone was about a hundred feet, because every time the path zigzagged in the opposite direction there was a sturdy stone barrier that acted like a guardrail. On the other hand, if someone slipped sideways off the path, the fall would’ve been a lot messier.

  With that in mind, Payne led the charge up the hill, hoping his body weight would serve as an anchor. He was followed by Boyd, Maria, and Jones, who was the last line of defense. They were about halfway to the crest when Payne saw the first sign of trouble. Lightning flashed in the distance, lighting the sky just enough to reveal movement on the peak above. A thin layer of fog hindered his vision even more than the rain, so he dismissed it as an optical illusion.

  ‘Can we stop at the next turn?’ Boyd shouted through the storm.

  Paranoid, Payne yelled back, ‘Why? What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing’s wrong,’ he said through labored breathing. ‘I want to look around.’

  Payne got the sense that Boyd needed a break more than anything else and decided it was a good idea to stop, even though they were only two zigzags from the top. Accidents tended to happen when people got tired. And Payne was tired, too. He tested the sturdiness of the rock guardrail before leaning his back against it. Meanwhile Boyd and Maria turned away from Payne, leaning their chests and arms over the precipice while looking for ruins in the landscape below. Jones waited until they were absorbed in their search before he spoke to Payne.

  ‘I’m not liking this,’ he whispered. ‘These grounds are well-maintained, and this powder seems fresh. Someone’s been digging up here recently. The question is, for what?’

  ‘Only one way to find out.’ Payne tugged on the rope to get Boyd’s attention. ‘Time to go.’

  The last few paths were the toughest to climb, not only because their legs were tired but because tiny rivulets were flowing on the path. All of them lost their balance at least once, covering them with white mud. It got so bad that Payne had to drop to all fours in order to make it up the last gradient. He used his hands and fingers like claws, burning every ounce of energy he had. When he reached the top, he flipped over, braced his feet against a large rock, and pulled on the rope like he was in a giant tug-of-war. Hand over hand, biceps burning, using his legs, back, and butt to finish the job. Boyd got there a minute later, followed by Maria, and finally Jones, who no longer looked black because of the mud.

  Payne wanted to tease him, but that required energy, and he had none to spare. So he just lay there in the mud, eyes closed, mouth wide open, trying to drink enough rain to soothe the burning in his throat. Seconds later that pain drifted to his chest and the pit of his stomach because when he opened his eyes, he was staring down the barrel of several guns. They were being held by soldiers in winter camouflage, which blended in perfectly with the chalky terrain.

  ‘Ah, shit,’ Payne cursed while gasping for air. ‘Hey D.J., you should take a look at this.’

  ‘At what?’ he bitched. Slowly he lifted himself into a half pushup, using his knees for support. When he locked his elbows, he saw all the soldiers that surrounded them and decided it wasn’t worth getting up for. ‘Tell them to leave,’ he groaned. ‘I’m resting.’

  ‘Who?’ Maria demanded, her vision blurred by the mud in her eyes.

  ‘Us,’ answered the only man standing without a gun. He’d been hiding behind the soldiers and used this opportunity to show himself. ‘He’s talking about us.’

  Maria flinched, practically jumping to her feet at the sound of his voice. Payne thought it was because she was startled. Moments later he realized there was something else going on, something more significant. ‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded.

  ‘Father sent me to fetch you.’ The man was wearing a clear plastic poncho over his suit and black mountain boots that went up to his calves. ‘You’ve been a baaaaaad girl.’

  Shocked, Boyd looked up and tried to see who was there. ‘Dante? Is that you?’

  Things started to make sense to Payne, albeit a little late for his taste. They were staring at Dante Pelati, son of Benito and Maria’s half brother. She’d mentioned Dante in passing when they confronted her about her other brother, Roberto. Later, Boyd gave them further information about Dante, telling them that he was the one who’d given them their digging permit for Orvieto.

  ‘Charles,’ Dante answered, ‘I’ve wanted to talk to you all week. How have you been?’

  Payne had no idea why he was being so friendly, whether he was thankful that they had delivered Maria and Boyd to him in one piece or whether it was just a facade. Payne wanted to find out, so he said, ‘I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. My name’s Jonathon Payne.’

  Payne reached up to shake Dante’s hand. But Dante looked down on him with disdain.

  ‘You’ll have to excuse me, but shaking your hand would not be in my best interest.’

  ‘Is it because of the mud?’ Payne wiped his hand on his ass, even though it didn’t make any difference. ‘Is that better?’

  ‘It’s not the mud, Mr Payne. It’s the fact that I know who you are. I’m guessing if I were to grab your hand, you’d pull me to the ground and have me as your hostage before my men could even shoot. Not an appealing proposition.’

  ‘It is for me.’

  Dante ignored the comment and spoke to his soldiers in Italian, practically grunting his commands. Next thing Payne knew, they were dragging everyone to their feet and marching them in a single-file line to a large clearing at the center
of the plateau where the soldiers had recently been digging. The giant pit was surrounded by a series of floodlights, none of which were on at the moment, and covered by a massive tent that kept the site dry.

  As they walked toward it, Payne considered overpowering one of the guards and stealing his gun but decided against it since the rope was tied around all their waists. Any quick movement on his part would’ve resulted in a knot that even a boy scout couldn’t untangle. Besides, Payne had a feeling that there’d be a better opportunity to strike in a little while.

  The soldiers lowered the tinted visors on their helmets as they entered the tent. Once inside they forced everyone to their knees, then turned on the floodlights. It had been pitch-black outside except for the occasional flash of lightning, so the sudden glare was too much for them to take. Payne shielded his eyes for several seconds, blinking and squirming until he could see shadows, then shapes, and finally enough details to function. Still, due to his vantage point near the ground, he wasn’t able to see what was in the pit, although he could tell it was several feet deep.

  Dante said, ‘I must admit I’m surprised you made it this far. My family has taken great pride in protecting our land and the secret it possesses. In fact, I wasn’t even aware of this site until recently. And that probably wouldn’t have happened without Mr Payne’s assistance.’

  Jones gave him a look that said, What is he talking about? But Payne shrugged, unsure.

  Thankfully, Dante explained. ‘If you hadn’t killed Roberto, my father never would’ve told me anything. That’s how it works, you know. The eldest son keeps the secret alive.’

  Secret? What secret? They had stumbled onto this place through a combination of good luck and timing. Nothing more. Yet Dante assumed that they had figured everything out. And Payne wasn’t going to shatter that illusion, not with so many questions running through his mind.

  So he said, ‘Man, your brother loved to talk, especially when I was torturing him. He was like, my father this, Orvieto that. Just one secret after another… Isn’t that right, Maria?’

  As if on cue, she said, ‘He couldn’t shut up. It was embarrassing.’

  Dante studied her face to see if she was lying. ‘You mean, you watched Roberto get tortured and didn’t stop it? How could you? He was your brother.’

  ‘My brother? He stopped being my brother the moment he tried to kill me… Just like you’ll no longer be my brother after this.’

  The comment hurt Dante, Payne could see it in his eyes. A mixture of shock, heartbreak, and betrayal. Payne wanted to tell her to take it back, that she had said the wrong thing, but it was too late. Any chance of playing the family card had just been eliminated.

  ‘Cut her loose and put her on the chopper.’ Dante practically spat the words as he said them. ‘Same thing with the professor. I need to debrief them before we visit my father.’

  One guard cut the rope in two places, while the other guards kept an eye on Payne. The severed end fell against Payne’s leg when the guard yanked Boyd to his feet. The same thing happened to Jones when they got Maria. An engine roared to life outside the tent, and Payne watched as Boyd and Maria were marched through the storm toward the waiting helicopter.

  Meanwhile, Dante stood still, staring into the pit, contemplating what he should do next. ‘Wait until the weather clears then load this onto the next chopper. We can’t get this wet.’

  Curious, Payne inched forward and tried to see what was down there until one of the guards raised his rifle and aimed it at his head. Payne said, ‘Sorry. Had a cramp.’

  Dante smiled, knowing full well Payne was lying. ‘It’s remarkable that this is still intact after all of these years, considering all the digging that has gone on around it. In that regard I guess it is very similar to the Catacombs. Some might say divine intervention protected it, yet I know the truth. It is my family that guarded it, that did everything they could to protect this secret, including turning their backs on me and Maria… But all of that is about to end. It’s time to tell everyone the truth about Christ, whether they’re ready for it or not.’

  Payne hoped that meant he was about to show them what was in the pit. Instead, he grabbed a black tarp and covered the hole like a father tucking in a newborn.

  ‘Keep it dry and safe,’ he told the guards. Then almost as an afterthought, he motioned toward Payne and Jones. ‘And you know what to do with them.’

  His men nodded as Dante left the tent and climbed onto the chopper. Seconds later, the noise increased 300 percent as the pilot revved the turbines and prepared for a difficult takeoff. Payne knew the rain coupled with the lightning and the wind was going to make things a bitch, not only for the chopper but for the soldiers on the ground, too. The air would start whipping, and the water was going to start stinging, and before long every man on the mountain was going to be shielding their heads and eyes from the ruckus.

  How did Payne know this? Because he’d seen it several times before. Even if you’re wearing a helmet, visor, and earplugs, it’s natural to protect your face in harsh conditions. That’s just human nature. And human nature was something that could be taken advantage of.

  ‘Jon!’ Jones shouted, although it sounded like a whisper next to the engine. ‘On three?’

  Payne hid his hand on his hip, keeping it there until the wind and noise were at their worst. Then, when the moment was right, he counted down on his fingers so only Jones could see.

  Three… two… one… go!

  In unison they leapt to their feet and ran toward the exit. Jones was a half step quicker and beat Payne to the tent’s edge by less than a yard. Still, Payne lost track of him the moment they stepped outside. His eyes had grown accustomed to the bright lights, and now that they were back in darkness, he couldn’t see a thing. Combine that with the wind and rain and roar of the chopper, and Payne felt like Dorothy in the tornado from The Wizard of Oz.

  A flash of lightning proved he was headed in the right direction and Jones was still in front of him. It gave the guards the same advantage, too, so Payne immediately cut several feet to the left in case they opened fire. The chopper was now overhead, preventing him from hearing gunshots or Jones or anything else. Darkness stole his ability to see, while the rain and mud threw off his other senses. All he could rely on were his instincts, and they told him to keep running straight.

  A blinding beam of light appeared in the sky and unlike before, it wasn’t a flicker. This time it was the chopper’s spotlight, and it gave Payne a view of the upcoming terrain. A boulder to the left, a crevice to the right, Jones directly in front. For an instant he feared that they were going to track them with the light like urban cops in L.A., but they ignored them, using the beam to get around the surrounding peaks and to slip through the storm unharmed.

  As the roar faded, Payne heard footsteps behind him. And shouts. Lots of shouts. Men seemed to be appearing out of nowhere; their camouflage outfits kept them hidden until they were on top of Payne. He dodged one and then another, knocking down a third with a vicious forearm to the face. He was expecting to get shot at any moment, waiting to feel the sudden burn of a bullet tearing through his flesh, but the darkness saved him. No way they could risk shooting a target that they couldn’t see, not with this many soldiers running around.

  ‘This way,’ yelled Jones from ten feet ahead. Then like magic he disappeared. First his legs, then his chest, and finally his head. One second they were there, the next they were gone, hidden by the edge of the plateau as he hit the ramp running.

  Payne wanted to follow his lead but was cut off by a guard with a rifle. He pointed it at Payne and shouted something in a foreign language that Payne couldn’t understand. That left Payne with two choices: he could stop for a quick explanation, or he could lower his shoulder and run over him. Option two seemed wiser, so he planted his head in the guard’s chest and knocked him off the hill. Somehow the guy wrapped his arms around Payne and held on as they hit the ramp hard.

  A crack of lightning
allowed Payne to stare into his face while he surfed down the hill on the guy’s back. The guard was young and scared – Payne could tell that from one look – but it didn’t bother him. He was the enemy, and Payne needed to get rid of him as soon as possible.

  He got his chance as they approached the first turn in the ramp, a turn the guard couldn’t see. Payne knew it was coming well in advance and launched himself backward just before they hit the stone wall. With a sickening crack, the guard smashed into it headfirst, cushioning Payne’s blow like a shock absorber. Five seconds later Payne had his helmet and rifle and was sliding down the next slope, trying to catch up to Jones before anyone caught him from behind.

  The scenery whizzed by at a dizzying pace. Payne’s eyes had adjusted to the lack of light, but the rain and wind and splashing mud left him flying blind. He quickly adjusted to the length of the ramps and before long he was anticipating the turns so well that he was practically running across them parallel to the ground. He felt like a swimmer in a dark pool who performed flip turns at the perfect moment even though he couldn’t see the walls. This continued the whole way to the bottom, where he found Jones waiting for him in the Mercedes, the engine running.

  ‘Need a lift?’ he asked as he pushed the passenger door open. ‘Please keep your feet on the mats. I don’t want to get the interior dirty.’

  Payne climbed in, oozing mud and blood yet feeling remarkably refreshed. Escaping death will do that to you. ‘Where to now?’

  ‘Italy,’ Jones said, tramping on the gas. ‘We’ve got a chopper to catch.’

  70

  Saturday, July 15

  Leonardo da Vinci Airport

  (nineteen miles southwest of Rome, Italy)

  Nick Dial was greeted by the head of airport security, who walked him through customs and gave him a ride in an oversized golf cart. They screeched to a halt in front of the security office, where Dial was given a quick tour. The first room was equipped with dozens of screens, all of them showing different views of the airport, everything from baggage claim to the parking lots.