by Rick Jones
But he had one more thing to do before he disappeared completely from Paled’s radar.
When the faceplate of the phone lit up, he dialed a number known only to him, by thumbing a single key on the keypad. When the line was answered, he played back a very important message he had recorded over the phone. Once the message was received, he broke the phone down into pieces, discarded it, and made his way into Vatican City.
#
Yitzhak Paled was driving home to the city of Or Yehuda when he received a call through his vehicle’s hands-free phone system. It was from Abichail, captain of Ezekiel’s kill squad.
“Yes?”
“The phone signal went up long enough to pinpoint our target’s last known location. We’re in the area now.”
“Where exactly?”
“Just beyond the borders of Vatican City. We’re not too far from the Basilica.”
Paled maneuvered the steering wheel to the right, took the turn, then maintained a steady course. Ezekiel knew he was being followed—that much was established. What concerned him most was if Ezekiel realized his intentions by sending cleaners after him to minimize a future threat once the mission was completed. And if this was the case, then Ezekiel had gone off the grid.
A grave threat remained.
“Yitzhak?”
“I’m here.”
“Something is going on here,” said Abichail.
“Such as.”
“There’s Vatican security everywhere. And the rooftops have eyes. There’s no way we could ever set up a sniper without being spotted.”
Yitzhak Paled slapped the steering wheel several times with the palm of his hand in anger. Of course, he told himself. The SIV. Ezekiel knew they would confirm his identity through photo images since he existed only within their database. And by doing so, he rendered Paled’s team completely impotent since there were eyes and ears everywhere.
Dammit! He slapped the wheel in frustration once again. That son of a bitch played me and Obadiah so that we could streamline him from the U.S. to Europe without him getting detained as the Fourth Man. Dammit!
“Pull back your team, Abichail. Ezekiel went off the grid. We’ll have pick him up later.”
“Right away, Yitzhak.”
Not only did Paled shut off the device, he did so by slapping the button hard. He was furious. Ezekiel played him well. And now that Ezekiel realized Paled’s intentions to dispatch him once the virus was released, there was no doubt in his mind that Ezekiel was going to make this personal.
And this bothered him greatly.
When Paled pulled up to the driveway of his home, he pressed the garage door opener, drove in and parked the vehicle, got out, and closed the door. Just as the garage door was on its descent, Yitzhak did not see the man in black sneak up behind him.
As Yitzhak turned the man was right there, standing less than a foot away. Paled’s eyes flared with surprise, his mouth opening in mute protest. Before he could utter a sound, the man struck him on the side of the head with a baton, sending Yitzhak Paled into a state of unconsciousness.
The man in black lifted Paled off the floor, placed him in the trunk of his own vehicle, closed the lid, and drove Paled’s car to a secured location outside of Or Yehuda.
#
To avoid detection, Ezekiel made his way closer to the basilica, wading through the parts of the city that were thickest with throngs of people, mainly around the sites such as the Egyptian Obelisk and Bernini's statues, and made his way closer to the Basilica.
He lowered his head and drew the brim of a boonie cap he picked up in Rome to conceal a good portion of his face.
He wasn’t sure who they were looking for, but Ezekiel had every reason to believe that they were searching for him, the Fourth Man, who was in possession of a lethal strain and had yet to be apprehended. His motives were unknown. But since he was a man of no past and known only to the Vatican, he had no doubt that he was identified by the SIV through facial recognition software.
And since his intentions were unknown, Pope Pius XIV had taken the necessary precautions.
So he was careful as he made his way toward the cathedral and the tunnels that ran beneath the Basilica. But he would not take them to the Old Gardens or to the Apostolic Palace, since they were most likely heavily guarded. He would take the tunnels that led to the Knights’ barracks in a direction that was opposite the Old Gardens, a direction less guarded, and one that would give him an advantage.
Several security officers stood by the entrance of the Basilica, scanning the area. The entire square was a sea of people.
Ezekiel then fell into a group of people and obscured himself by becoming the centerpiece in this ring of people. He lowered his shoulders, adjusted the brim of his cap, and walked along with the group. But when the band was stopped because security was questioning the length of a woman’s skirt being too low and unacceptable to wear inside of the Basilica, Ezekiel slowly broke away from the pack and began to climb the stairs, which drew the attention of two security members.
One of the beefy officers called after him. “Mi scusi, sir!” Excuse me, sir!
Ezekiel ignored him and quickened his pace, a dead giveaway for avoidance.
“Mi scusi, sir!” The two men took after him, leaving the rest of security to deal with the group who looked on with wonder.
“Mi scusi, sir!”
Ezekiel could tell that they were giving chase by the closeness of the caller’s voice.
So he picked up his pace and disappeared inside of St. Peter’s.
#
The two security men entered the Basilica. People roamed about the massive hall. But the man could not be located. He was gone.
“Impossible,” whispered one guard in Italian.
“He’s here,” said the other. “Somewhere.”
They entered the large hall with their heads turning from one side to the next, searching. The bigger of the two guards then tapped a button on his earpiece and spoke into his lip mic. He contacted central base, who in turn contacted base command, which was the SIV since they were spearheading the search initiative. It appeared that a suspect—description unavailable since the perpetrator was purposely concealing his identity—had entered the Basilica without stopping on their command.
This galvanized the unit leaders of the Vatican Knights into action. Leviticus and Isaiah rushed out of the SIV chamber and made their way to the church through below-ground corridors. When they entered the Basilica above, they found something they never expected.
What they found was death.
CHAPTER FORTY
The two security guards scoured the hall of the Basilica, searching, but could not locate the suspect in question. So they separated; one took the left flank, the other the right, the tandem team working in unison by communicating through lip mics and earwigs.
Two-thirds into the Basilica, where the floor plan branched off from the Baldacchino by Bernini to symbolize the extending arms of the crucifix, the beefy guard ventured to the left, the other down the right. But it was the beefy guard who discovered the suspect walking briskly by the Alter of the Crucifixion with the brim of his cap concealing his face and the collar of his jacket hiked.
The guard called for his backup. “Enzio?”
“Yes.”
“By the Alter of the Crucifixion,” he stated.
“I’m on my way.”
The guard followed, keeping Ezekiel in sight as the former Vatican Knight disappeared through a doorway obscured from the main area. Even the guard did not know of this passageway. “Enzio.”
“I’m almost there.”
“There’s a doorway west of the altar. Hurry.”
In fear of losing his suspect, the guard followed.
#
Since the stairway led down into darkness, the guard took the steps with caution.
At the end of the staircase the area was feebly lit. The walls were made of fieldstone that appeared slick with wetness. The air was
damp. And the chamber smelled entirely of must and mildew.
The room was steeped in shadows barely broken by the light. Behind a thin veil of shadows stood the outline of his suspect, the silhouette still and waiting.
When the guard began to speak into his mike, the shape exploded from the darkness and attacked him, hands striking, feet kicking. Within less than a second the guard was seeing internal stars, then his vision began to close in at the edges. When he had a moment of lucidity, he realized that he was lying on the ground. The shadow of the man wearing the boonie cap stood over him looking down, his features indiscernible since the man nothing but black. In the subsequent moment his attacker slowly raised his foot, let it hover for a moment, and just as the guard screamed, he brought it down, crushing bone.
Slowly, Ezekiel backpedaled back beyond the veil of darkness.
And he waited.
#
Enzio found the door on the west side of the Altar of the Crucifixion, and quickly descended the stairway. The climb down was a winding one that ended up in a chamber.
In the middle of the floor lay his teammate. His face was smashed in, the bones clearly forced inward from impact. Over his lip mic he began to stammer. And just as he was about to annunciate his position, Ezekiel once again came out of the shadows like a menacing wraith.
When Enzio put a hand up in self-preservation, Ezekiel grabbed his fingers and forced them back, snapping them. The moment the guard shouted out in pain, the former Knight came across with the blade of his hand and chopped the man in the throat, causing the guard to gag and strain for breath. Then with the heel of his hand, his favorite move because it was quick and efficient, he pounded it hard against the guard’s nose, driving the bone deep into his skull.
As the guard dropped soundlessly to the floor, Ezekiel knew that others would follow. So he went west instead of east beneath the Basilica, making his way to the graves.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
As soon as Leviticus and Isaiah reached the chamber that would give them passage to the Basilica above, they discovered the two bodies of the guards. They carried all the earmarks of professional kills.
And one word came to their minds immediately: Ezekiel.
“He’s here,” Leviticus said with a measure of stress in his voice. Leviticus then contacted the SIV command post through his lip mic. “Gino?”
“Go.”
“We have two guards down! I repeat, we have two guards down and our primary target has gone underground!” Leviticus looked to the westerly direction, the only way that was left to Ezekiel since he did not cross their paths in the eastside tunnel. “He may have gone towards the crypts.”
“Copy that. General protocol initiated. Security to evacuate the city immediately.”
Leviticus and Isaiah immediately headed for the tombs beneath the Basilica.
#
Beneath St. Peter’s is the burial chamber of popes and bishops. It’s also the chamber where the Vatican Knights are buried as well.
Ezekiel entered the sepulchral room. Graves with concrete lids over them, Roman sarcophagi, and mausoleum walls filled with corpses stretched deep beneath the Basilica, much further than he imagined.
He made his way between the Roman sarcophagi, which were situated like neighboring slabs in a morgue. Once he reached the mausoleum wall, he noted the area set aside for the Knights. In the middle, where the slab hadn’t aged enough to be the same color as the surrounding slabs, but whiter, was a name that caused his heart to hitch in his chest.
He walked to the wall-slab and traced his name across the lettering.
“No,” he whispered. “It can’t be.”
KIMBALL HAYDEN
MAY 23, 1970 – AUGUST 19, 2013
HERE LIES ONE OF GOD’S OWN
A SAVIOR WHO PROTECTED THOSE WHO COULD NOT PROTECT THEMSELVES
Ezekiel felt cheated. “Nooooo!”
In anger, he picked up a sizeable stone, and began to hammer away.
#
“Did you hear that?” Isaiah asked, holding them up inside the tunnel.
After the distant scream died out, Leviticus said, “Yeah. I think it was coming from the graves.”
Without adding anything more, they went to confront Ezekiel.
#
In his rage he smashed the stone against the slab—at first cracking it, then shattering the marble. As he pulled away the pieces, he could see the end of the coffin. After tossing the stone aside, he reached inside, grabbed one of the rails, and pulled. The coffin moved inch by inch until the end stuck out at least three feet from its recess. With a mighty tug he dragged it free, the coffin slapping down hard against the floor.
The coffin was striking to look at. The entire body was completely polished in silver with a mirror finish. And on the lid, which was exclusive to the Vatican Knights, was their coat of arms. It was a Silver Cross Pattée set against a blue background. The colors were significant. Silver represented peace and sincerity, and blue signified truth and loyalty. Standing alongside the coat of arms were two heraldic lions rising on their hind legs with their forepaws against the shield, stabilizing it. The lions were a symbolic representation of bravery, strength, ferocity and valor. It had been their emblem since the formation of the corps.
Ezekiel hooked his fingers beneath the rim of the coffin’s lid, and lifted the hood. For a long moment he stared at the contents within. Only there were no contents. The coffin was empty.
Ezekiel fell back onto his backside and began to laugh. Kimball Hayden had managed to be buried at two astonishing venues, at the Vatican and at Arlington, without a body between them.
If one thing Ezekiel was certain of, it was that Kimball Hayden had a penchant for showing himself long after he’s been dead.
He closed the lid with a slam that echoed throughout the chamber.
And then he heard the footfalls.
Somebody was coming his way.
#
The knock on the door sounded very distant, almost like a tapping. When Kimball stirred from a deep sleep and got to his feet, the knocking continued, but with more urgency.
When he answered the door, a bishop he had never seen before handed him a letter, then left Kimball alone with the envelope in his hand. He opened it. The letter stated that he was needed immediately inside the SIV chamber.
Kimball did not hesitate.
#
Inside of St. Peter’s Square, mobile units and security officials were herding people from the center. Bullhorns issued orders. Security and the Swiss Guards ushered people toward the borders as calmly as possible.
But thousands remained.
As small as Vatican City was, it was just too large to evacuate in a timely fashion.
#
When Leviticus and Isaiah entered the area of the Tombs, they immediately saw Kimball’s casket lying on the floor. The wall slab that served as his memorial laid scattered about in chips and pieces.
As the Knights stepped deeper into the chamber, another shape quickly advanced from the shadows.
Before Isaiah could respond in defense, Ezekiel brought a stone against his skull, connecting solidly, which dropped Isaiah to the floor where he remained unmoving.
Leviticus came around quickly and raised his arm against a second blow. The stone struck his forearm, breaking the twin bones within. Even in white-hot agony Leviticus was able to thrust a leg at his opponent, kicking Ezekiel hard in the abdomen and sending him to the ground.
But Ezekiel was quick.
He was on his feet and went after Leviticus with a flurry of hand strikes, his fists flashing about like the heads of serpents—hitting, striking—with each blow landing and driving Leviticus back against the marble-slab wall.
Leviticus defended himself as much as he could with his good arm, warding off a few punches. But for every blow he deflected, Ezekiel hit him with three more.
When Leviticus brought his leg up, Ezekiel hooked it with his arm, held it tight, and drove a straigh
t jab into Leviticus’s face, causing the man’s head to snap back, hard, with the back of his head slamming into the wall and opening a wound.
When Ezekiel released him Leviticus slid down the wall, leaving a blood trail in his wake.
As he sat there with his eyes beginning to refocus, Ezekiel crouched down beside him, grabbed his shirt, and pulled him close.
“Morning, Leviticus. Good to see you again.”
Leviticus winced against the pain.
Then from Ezekiel: “Where is he?”
“Who?”
Ezekiel grabbed Leviticus’s broken arm. The touch alone was like striking a raw nerve. And Leviticus cried out in pain.
“Let’s try this all over again, shall we? I need you to tell me where is he. Where’s Kimball?”
Leviticus raised his good hand and pointed to the coffin. “Posthumously,” he said through clenched teeth. “In Paris. We never found his body.”
“And therein lies the problem, doesn’t it? You see, Kimball has this nasty habit of showing up after he’s been dead awhile. And you know what I think? Until I see his body, I’m going to assume that he’s alive.”
“Good for you.”
Ezekiel twisted his arm, causing him to cry out. “Don’t get cute, Leviticus. I want to know where he is.”
“He’s dead,” he lied.
Anger began to spread through Ezekiel like wildfire. He immediately tore away the lining of his jacket and produced a tube shaped like a long cigar. The LED meter read a temperature of 47°F, well above freezing, which meant that the strain was active. “You’ve been looking for me. And you knew I had this.” He wiggled the tube. “So you know what this is—what it can do.”
Leviticus swallowed, feeling a desert dryness in his throat.