by John Lyman
“His religion?” Alon leaned forward in his chair. “I thought the Acerbi clan worshipped this Rex Mundi character.”
“They do, but they’ve concealed that fact from the rest of their followers. Those outside the family believe they are part of a new-age religion dedicated to the accumulation of wealth and power for the common good. It’s an egotistic and modernized aberration of the old Cathar religion turned inside out, with Rex Mundi secretly at its core.”
“I’m still not following you,” Leo said. “Are you saying that the Acerbis have propagated their own church, and that their followers have no idea who it is that they are really worshipping?”
“Exactly, Cardinal. I couldn’t have said it better myself. While the Acerbis pray to Rex Mundi, their followers believe they are worshiping a god of love in gatherings that look more like corporate retreats. Away from prying eyes, their rich and powerful friends gather together in the countryside to network and indulge in secret ceremonies. In fact, their ceremonies are based on those of real Cathars ... they’re almost identical ... even down to the titles they bestow upon their leaders. They wear Cathar robes to mock us, but they’ve lost sight of what the real Cathar faith is all about. In short, the Acerbis have created a cult of power and money ruled by evil, while camouflaging their entire enterprise under the guise of a new religion of peace backed by money and power.”
The three men stared at Eduardo without speaking. He had just opened up to them about a world none of them knew existed, and the reality of it had taken them all by surprise. The old man appeared to be totally honest and open in everything he had said, but he had still not revealed his plan.
“We still need to hear how you plan to stop your son.”
“I’m coming to that, Professor, but first let me say that it’s important to me that you all know I made one last attempt to save my son’s soul before agreeing to meet with you. He has received copies of the translated scrolls, and I have been praying that he would read them ... that their words would have the same effect on him as they did on me. Unfortunately, I learned that he threw them away and has even stepped up the timetable for continuing with his plan to wipe out half the world’s population. I was prepared to stop him myself, even if it meant spilling the blood of my own son, but my chance to do so has passed.”
By now, the sun had risen above the distant mountains, and as the old man turned to gaze out the window once again, his eyes glazed over. It seemed that he was looking inward instead of outward, as though nothing on the outside mattered anymore. When at last he looked back at his guests, he tried to smile, but the effort seemed too great. His face was filled with a look of total exhaustion.
“You’ll have to forgive me, Gentlemen. My mind tends to wander more frequently these days. It appears that, in my effort to prove to you that I was being truthful, I’ve left out an important part of the story.”
“What part would that be, Mr. Acerbi?” Lev asked.
“Last week I saw my son for the first time in over forty years.”
CHAPTER 48
Silence descended over the three shocked men as Acerbi’s mind seemed to drift. He was looking through the window at the twisted, shadowed branches of the trees across the road. Suddenly, he jerked forward and brought his face close to the glass, as if he were trying to see through the early morning mist, looking for something hidden in the distance, waiting for him to lower his guard.
Leo was beginning to wonder if the old man was as insane as his son.
“Eduardo,” Leo waited. “Eduardo ... I don’t understand. Did you just say you saw your son?”
Acerbi leaned back from the window without answering. His expression remained vacant as he wandered over to the stove and turned on the burner to boil more water for tea. With the darkness outside now gone, their Israeli protectors were in danger of being exposed.
Was Acerbi stalling for time? Was that the reason he kept looking out the window?
As if he could read their thoughts, Acerbi suddenly switched off the fire on the stove and sat down at the table.
“I apologize for insisting that our meeting take place here. I know you are pressed for time, but you must realize that this has been very difficult for me. As a father, I have come to the realization that I must betray my own son to those who will end his life and send his soul to where it must go.”
Lev nodded sympathetically. He could see the pain in the old man’s eyes.
“Please,” Acerbi continued. “There is more you must know before I tell you of my meeting with my son. Cathar society is divided into two general categories, the Perfecti, or Perfects, and the Credentes, or Believers. Although Cathars in general reject the idea of the priesthood, the Perfecti function in some ways as the clergy in our faith. The path to entering the ranks of the Perfecti is through a ritual known as the consolamentum, a rite that grants redemption and liberation from this world and bestows upon the recipient the baptism of the Holy Spirit, absolution, and ordination all at the same time. The ritual consists of the laying on of hands, which symbolizes the transfer of the Holy Spirit in the manner believed to have been passed down in unbroken succession from the time of Jesus Christ. After the laying on of hands, the new Perfectus undertakes a life dedicated to following the example of Christ and the Apostles through an ascetic life of simplicity, frugality, purity and prayer. Above all, the Perfecti are dedicated to helping others find their way out of a dark land ruled by a dark lord, to a realm of light which they believe is mankind’s first source and ultimate end.”
Eduardo paused for a moment to let his lesson sink in. “I tell you all this because last week a ceremony was held at a secret location a few hundred miles from here in the French Alps. The Acerbi clan and their followers came together to witness Rene’s ordination into their inner circle in a ceremony that mimicked the sacred rite of a true Cathar consolamentum. Even though their little show resembled a real Cathar ceremony, the entire affair was an abhorrent and deviant excursion away from the true beliefs of the Cathars. It was dedicated instead to a god of darkness who lies in wait for us all if we shy away from the light. They had evidently gone to great lengths to copy everything down to the last detail ... even to the disgusting extreme of calling their leaders Perfecti.”
The old man glanced over at Leo. “Think how you would feel, Cardinal, if a group suddenly started calling themselves Catholics and began mimicking your sacred Mass and calling their leaders cardinals. Then imagine that that same group was dedicated to Satan instead of God, and that they were hijacking your religion so that they could use it to deceive. To an outsider, it would be impossible to differentiate between the two, and in the end it would destroy the true church.”
“Eduardo, please, if you don’t mind,” Lev said, watching the sun rise higher in the sky.
“I’m coming to the part you are waiting to hear, Professor. It was at this secret gathering of the Acerbi clan that I saw my son.”
Lev let the cigar droop at the corner of his mouth. “How? I mean, appearing in front of a group of people who believed you died almost forty years ago. Wasn’t that a little risky?”
“My days on this earth are rapidly coming to a close, Professor. The fear of death is not what motivates me to remain in hiding. I remain here to protect others.”
Eduardo’s eyes were suddenly blazing. He was growing weary at having to divulge sacred Cathar beliefs and explain his actions to these outsiders. It went against everything he believed in ... like an old Cold War CIA officer who was being told by his superiors to cooperate with the KGB. Although he had obviously mellowed over the years, it was becoming obvious that this former captain of industry was not enjoying his present task and that his patience was wearing thin. The look in the old man’s eyes gave warning to Lev that he should tread lightly.
“In answer to your question, Professor, I never spoke to anyone. In fact, they didn’t even know I was there. My identity was concealed by the fact that I was dressed in the hooded white robes of the
ir leader.”
Eduardo stopped to cough some red-tinged sputum into his napkin once again before continuing. “In every ceremony, there is one leader and twelve Perfecti ... an obvious reference to the twelve apostles. The leader wears white, while the remaining twelve Perfecti wear the traditional blue robes. On the night of their ceremony, there were only eleven men dressed in blue robes, because one of them had recently died, thus creating an opening for Rene to be ordained as the twelfth member of the circle, an essential step to becoming the eventual leader. In the Acerbi clan, the twelve men they refer to as Perfecti are really more like a board of directors than a representation of the twelve apostles, and their leader is more like a CEO. In fact, he is a CEO in real life.”
“What happened to him?” Alon asked. “How did you keep the real leader from showing up so you could take his place?”
“Let’s just say he was incapacitated for the evening. It was a simple matter of intercepting him before he made it to the ceremony, allowing me to slip in at the last moment dressed in his white robes.”
“And you were able to approach Rene without raising suspicion?” Leo asked.
“During the ceremony, the leader lays his hands on the one who is about to become a new Perfecti. That’s when I slipped a copy of the scrolls to Rene, but we never spoke. However, despite my better judgment, I couldn’t resist looking into my son’s eyes. I was searching for something ... anything ... a clue. I wanted to see what kind of man he had become. That’s when I suddenly realized that Rene had somehow recognized me after all these years. I never imagined that looking into the eyes of a child I had once loved would send chills up my spine, but that’s exactly what happened before I turned and quickly left the stage.”
“And the two of you never spoke?” Leo asked.
“After I looked into his cold, black eyes, I knew there was nothing for me to say. As far as my son is concerned, I’m sure he was too shocked to speak. Seeing me must have shaken him deeply. I can only imagine the emotions he must have felt. From now on, Gentlemen, we must proceed with caution. Rene’s guard is up, but he’s off balance. I’m afraid he’s now capable of anything. Although it may seem hopeless at this stage of the game, I still find myself hoping that the words within the scrolls will have some effect on him. I’ve seen their message of love change men ... they changed me, but I’m deeply afraid that what I saw in my son’s eyes was something no words will ever change.”
A sudden knock followed by the sound of the front door opening downstairs caused everyone except for Eduardo to jump. Seconds later, boots could be heard pounding up the stairs.
“Excuse us, sir,” Ben said to Lev. “But our time here is up. We need to start heading back.”
“We need a few more minutes, Ben.”
“I have my orders, Professor. I can give you five more minutes ... no longer.”
“Thank you. We’ll be right down.”
The Israeli soldiers disappeared back down the stairwell and out the front door.
“Ok, Eduardo. It’s now or never. What’s your plan?”
“Like I said, Professor, the only way to get to Rene now is through his religion.”
“Explain.”
“Following Rene’s induction as one of the Perfecti, their current leader suddenly stepped down for health reasons. They must now convene another consolamentum to elect a new leader, which will no doubt be Rene. I believe that this is the final step before his plan goes into full effect. Only after Rene takes his place at the head of their religion will he be in complete control of the Acerbi clan and all of their followers.”
“So how does this help us?” Leo asked.
“That’s it!” Alon slapped his hand on the table. “I think I get it now.”
Eduardo’s eyes narrowed. “Very good, Mr. Lavi. I had a feeling you would be the first to understand. A man who possesses knowledge of tactics would be quick to see my point.”
“We’re running out of time here, Alon,” Lev said.
“Mr. Acerbi is telling us where we’ll be able to find his son ... at the next ceremony.”
“And you know when and where this next meeting will take place?” Lev asked.
“I do.”
Lev paused for a moment, hoping that they were placing their trust in the right hands. “Then I take it they’ll be meeting at the same location where they held their last ceremony.”
“No, I’m afraid not, Professor. In fact, it’s the polar opposite of the peaceful glen where they last came together.”
Lev’s heart sank. “Rene is leaving Europe?”
“The ceremony will take place in one of the most volatile regions of the world, and that, Gentlemen, is where you must go.”
“Afghanistan?” Alon asked.
Eduardo smiled. “No, Gentlemen ... I’m afraid it’s much worse. They’re meeting in Mexico. Rene has purchased a large ranch in the desert outside the border city of Juarez, where he’s surrounded himself with rings of security.”
“Mexico!” Expressions of total bewilderment crossed the faces of all three men.
“When?”
“I’m afraid you and your people don’t have much time, Professor.” Acerbi resumed his gaze out the window. “The ceremony is four days from now.”
CHAPTER 49
Thirty-three-thousand feet above the ocean, the Bible Code Team sat huddled around Dr. Diaz in the back of the big Boeing Globemaster as it streaked across the Atlantic toward the coastline of Central America. It had taken Diaz only four hours in the Toulouse biohazard lab to learn that his fears about the pathogen were well-founded. The prospect that the virus could mutate was no longer a theoretical exercise, but a very real possibility.
“How could they have been so stupid?” Diaz said, pounding his fist on the armrest of his seat. “A first-year graduate student in molecular biology could have spotted the flaw!”
“So what are we looking at?” Lev asked. “I mean, worst case scenario.”
“Worst case scenario?” Diaz paused to stare out the window at the blue patches of ocean scattered between the intermittent breaks in the clouds below. “Everyone on the planet dies.”
“Even the ones who haven’t eaten the genetically modified wheat?”
“Yes ... everyone. They used a mouse pox.”
“A what?” Leo asked.
“A mouse pox, Cardinal ... they used data from mouse pox research to engineer the thing. The Russians perfected the technique when they came up with the bright idea of weaponizing smallpox a few years back.”
“Weaponizing? You mean they actually created a biological weapon from smallpox?”
“Yes ... I know ... it’s unimaginable, and evidently Acerbi got his hands on the research.”
The thump of clear air turbulence prompted Lev to grab onto the orange cargo netting hanging next to Diaz’s seat. “But I thought smallpox had been eradicated back in the ‘70’s.”
“It was, at least in nature. In 1975, a team from the World Health Organization tracked down the last known naturally occurring case of smallpox in the world. They had been summoned by the Indian government to Bhola, a small island off the coast of India in the Bay of Bengal, where they found a three-year-old girl covered with smallpox pustules huddled under a burlap sack. Luckily, the child survived, and before they returned home, the team followed up by inoculating the entire village. Back at the CDC, those who had been on the WHO team waited for months for news of another outbreak, but nothing happened. No more cases were reported. It was a major turning point in world history that most people are still unaware of, because after that, no more cases of smallpox appeared anywhere else in the world. We were finally able to say that smallpox had been eliminated from the face of the earth. Scientists began pleading with governments all over the world to destroy any remaining samples of the disease saved in freezers for future research. No one wanted to take the chance that it might somehow escape its frigid prison and begin its rampage through the human race once again. Even those wh
o had dedicated their lives to the research of smallpox believed that the risk of allowing it to survive anywhere in the world was too great. They all insisted that it had to be destroyed.”
“Well, did they?” Ariella asked.
“Did they what?” Diaz answered. He was looking out the window again.
“Did they destroy the samples?”
“Of course not. Remember, we’re dealing with human beings here. In 1995, the World Health Organization voted unanimously to destroy all remaining stockpiles of smallpox, but unfortunately, they were dealing with people who had their own agendas. Supposedly, only two labs held the disease—the CDC in Atlanta and a lab outside Moscow, but we all knew there were many more. Another thing they didn’t realize at the time was that the Russians had three other secret labs scattered around the country dedicated to weaponizing the disease. They were making the stuff by the ton to load into rockets aimed at the United States and other places. I know, because the Acerbi Corporation hired several Russian scientists after the Soviet Union collapsed. I worked with a couple of them at the lab in Toulouse, and they told me that a few of their co-workers had left Russia with canisters full of the stuff. They planned on making a fortune by selling it to the highest bidder in the Middle East. Apparently, there is no moral high ground when it comes to bioweapons. Just think of it, a team of dedicated virologists and molecular biologists had finally eliminated a scourge that had stalked humanity for thousands of years, and some geniuses wanted to keep it around in freezers to study, while other geniuses were busy making weapons out of it and selling it to suspected terrorists on the side. Most people would call that the definition of insanity, but it was insanity mixed with evil ... always a bad combination.”
Standing in the jet’s large cargo bay next to Ariella, John’s face was masked in a frown that indicated he was deep in thought. “But what’s all of this got to do with mice?”