by Rick Jones
“Try on the helmet,” she stated to Bienemy while pointing at the unit.
The Nocturnal Saint removed the helmet from its peg and slipped it on. After adjusting the headgear, he powered up the unit by pressing a small button that was situated where an earbud would be if located inside his right ear. As a whirring started to whine into a higher pitch with the mask upcycling, the lenses burned brightly with the color of emerald green, which gave Bienemy the ability to see inside shadows.
“Say something,” the woman demanded.
“Testing . . . one, two, three testing.” The voice sounded metallic. The pronunciations, however, were quite clear.
Removing the helmet, Bienemy said, “Very nice.”
As the truck continued on, plans were being spelled out in detail. The optimum factor here was to draw Kimball away from the church and from his unit, so that he would be outmanned, outgunned and without hope since everyone involved, with the exception of the woman, believed that one man alone, even a Vatican Knight, would not be able to challenge the manpower of the Nocturnal Saints.
As the team rode in silence to the bunker that was north of Vatican City, the woman could not entirely dismiss her deep-rooted concerns, no matter how much she tried. She had seen the Vatican Knights in action as they wiped out her entire D.C. program, with the overwhelming defeat of her team causing her to flee to Brazil. And just like those inside this truck—the SEALs, the Delta and the Ranger—her Washington team was also made up of urban mercenaries with similar backgrounds, and people who were considered to be the best of the best. They were, and had been, the alpha predators with no equals, until the Vatican Knights literally showed up on her doorstep. The skillsets they exhibited had wiped out her team with ease as though in play, with the challenges coming from her team second-rate.
Then she closed her eyes to envision the moment when the Vatican Knights and the Nocturnal Saints engaged one another. The inhouse battle was quick and deadly and over within minutes, as the conflict waged appeared to be between men against boys with the Vatican Knights far more mature in their skillsets. When she opened her eyes to evaluate the ex-soldiers around her, those who had earned the title of ‘elite,’ she had to remind herself that Kimball Hayden was a man who bled like any other. And like any other man, he was just as mortal and one against four.
Plans had been pored over and discussed until the design of the operation was embedded into memory.
Whatever flaws there might have been were deliberated upon and believed corrected. But the woman had learned long ago that plans were always mapped out perfectly on paper. And when it came time for the operation, only the deeply hidden flaws, those that were impossible to plan for, would show themselves and become insurmountable problems. Nothing truly works by design, she thought.
One man alone who bleeds like any other man . . . That’s all he is.
One against four.
Yet the woman sighed inwardly and thought: Always easier on paper. Always perfect by design. But she also knew that there were people like Kimball Hayden who had a habit of screwing up the blueprints to a mission, especially if he was the focal point.
When the truck finally pulled to a stop and the team exited the vehicle, Antle turned her eyes heavenward. The sky was midnight black and the stars shined overhead like a cache of diamonds spread over black velvet. It was a beautiful night, she thought.
. . . A beautiful night . . .
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Vatican Intelligence
The Vatican, Vatican City
Vatican Intelligence is considered to be one of the best intel agencies in the world that rivals the likes of MI6, the CIA, and the Mossad. Though the agencies often work in collusion with one another, it was the Jesuit team of Vatican Intelligence that spotted an anomalous transaction from a Yemen bank account belonging to a suspected terrorist financier, Ahmed Jaziri, to an account that came and went as soon as the amount of five-hundred million had been transferred. Upon tracing, it was discovered that the created account belonged to a faceless and fictitious owner. Within a minute—twenty-four seconds to be exact—the funds were converted into cryptocurrency and the account summarily closed. Everything performed—the transfer of huge amounts of money, the sudden opening and closing of an account under a false registration, the transference of money into an untraceable form—were notorious red-flag issues of terrorist activity. And with a known supporter like Ahmed Jaziri who funded terrorist operations and sponsored extremist groups who took over the oil fields, he was on the radar as a person to watch. It was known that Jaziri received a percentage of all oil sales through his black-market contacts which helped to build his financial empire. A half billion-dollar transfer meant that something off-the-charts huge was about to go down. And it did not go unnoticed by Vatican Operations, either. Calls immediately went out to intel agencies across the globe, including Interpol, who listed Ahmed Jaziri as a wanted person, though not for terrorism but as an illegal arms dealer. The problem with Jaziri, however, was that no one knew what he truly looked like, though it was reported that he often sported grizzled beards and sunglasses to mask any possibility for facial recognition programs to map out certain landmarks on his face for identification. The man was simply a ghost who walked.
But recent intel had surfaced to indicate that Ahmed Jaziri moved with a specific gait due to having a clubfoot that did not fully heal from treatment, leaving the man with a marginal limp that could not be masked. In fact, it might even be said that his gait would be as identifiable as a fingerprint, even if FRS programs were unable to recognize him.
Recent video recordings in Yemen, Syria, Iran, Lebanon and most recently in Paris, had videotaped several ‘potentials’ with similar walks, though none could be absolutely determined to be Ahmed Jaziri. So, the Jesuit team of Vatican Intelligence had to connect the dots. Since styles and mannerisms of walking possessed a uniqueness to them, the Vatican Intel team registered these gaits into a program to identify a person by his movements and motions. One man who had been recorded over a three-week period in places like Sana'a, Yemen; Damascus, Syria; and more recently in Paris, exhibited a gait and style that was verifiable to a 93% probability that it was the same person. Though this did not confirm on any level that the ‘man of interest’ was Ahmed Jaziri, the person he met at Paris was. After being captured on a number of CCTV cameras that faced the sidewalk café, facial recognition programs were able to scan the other man’s features. Though the highest match probability listed in at 45% when compared to the photographic images from the FBI’s NCIC, was 45% enough since 95% to 100% was the needed factor to limit the number of candidates to a few? At 45%, the number of matches were in the tens of thousands. So, the Jesuits who worked alongside the FBI, MI6, and the Mossad had whittled down that amount to workable numbers. Soon, tens of thousands had been cut down to the thousands, after confirming that some were either dead, incarcerated, or dismissed for any number of reasons. Still, the numbers remained outrageously high with the combing effects moving too slow for the principals, who wanted to know the reason behind the movement of such a large sum of money, and those responsible for the transaction.
In the twenty-four hours after the business deal, the people of interest had been cut down to a few hundred by agencies who confirmed alibis. But of the 367 ‘potentials’ that were left, a name of great interest remained on the register, that of Amal Purakayastha. When the photos were placed side by side on the wall monitor inside the Comm Center beneath St. Peter’s Basilica, there were some obvious similarities, but not enough to confirm that the person in question was Amal Purakayastha. This had begged the question if the man had altered his appearances. But what gave credence to the possibility that this man was Purakayastha was Purakayastha’s background. He was known as the Bangladeshi, a silent partner to Abesh Faruk, an international arms dealer who sold his wares to anyone with deep pockets, including terrorist organizations. Furthermore, a meeting between Ahmed Jaziri and Ama
l Purakayastha made sense since one man specialized in selling specific hardware, whereas the other fronted terrorist causes by supplying weapons to extremist organizations. Jaziri was simply the conduit between the supplier—which was Purakayastha—to the consumer, which could be the Islamic State or the Taliban.
Standing on an elevated tier within the Vatican’s Intelligence Comm Center, Fathers Auciello and Essex were examining the screens. The similarities were there to justify the 45% match. But 45% was far from creating a particular matchup. What bolstered confidence from the co-directors, however, was that the meeting in Paris between two possibly ‘significant’ people in the arms and terrorist trade had come together to communicate. Within the day of this meeting—the transfer of money in the amount of five hundred million dollars in American currency, which was summarily converted into cryptocurrency, had quickly disappeared from Jaziri’s account.
Father Auciello tilted his head slightly as he compared the photos. Purakayastha’s skin tone matched at 100%, according to the computer’s hue measurements, whereas a skin blemish, a slight scar that had been shared by each man in the two photos, remained. The scar itself was highly indicative that this new-faced man and Purakayastha were the same, since the design of the scar and its fine ridges matched perfectly. That small imperfection was the million-dollar giveaway. But was the other man, based on the movements of his choppy gait, Ahmed Jaziri? That remained to be the question.
“I genuinely believe that the man in both photos is Amal Purakayastha,” Father Auciello remarked, “though with obvious alterations such as his eyes, cheekbones, his chin—all different.”
At the moment, the co-directors were on a conference call with the major intel agencies across the globe which included Interpol, MI6, the Mossad, Germany’s BND, the DGSE of France, Italy’s AISE, and many others.
“If this is the case,” stated Efrayim Leibowitz over a speaker system, and someone who was a leading principal within the Mossad, “then it is to be understood that Purakayastha’s history with Abesh Faruk is a concerning one. We all know that Faruk was in possession of the Goliath Chamber that contained three nuclear suitcases with each possessing one-kiloton yields. We even raided one of Faruk’s armories in Tunisia using our own Sayeret Matkal based on intel which proved to be incorrect. But we believe that the Goliath Chamber exists, nonetheless. We just don’t know where.”
“Perhaps,” Father Essex stated with his British accent, “Purakayastha did, given his close ties with Abesh Faruk. If this other man proves to be Ahmed Jaziri, which it could be, then we can justifiably deduce with a measurable degree of probability that the Goliath Chamber might be the vessel that had been placed on the bidder’s block by Purakayastha. If that’s the case, then what are the three major-targeted areas? Or will they pool these devices together to be a single unit that would yield a three-ton detonation? What are Jaziri’s intentions, seeing that his clientele is made up of terrorist factions?”
“Jaziri is a man with a dark past,” said David Bennett, a principal of the CIA. “We know little about him since the man’s trying his best to stay under the radar and succeeding. What we do know about him is that he’s also known as the ‘Puppeteer.’ This transaction of five hundred million dollars that was moved from his account in Yemen and into the account of a fictitious owner, where it immediately turned into cryptocurrency and disappeared with the money trail untraceable, could mean that Ahmed Jaziri could be getting wise to our surveillance of his accounts, which we obviously follow in order to gauge his next move . . . Or it could mean that something major is about to happen. Maybe both.”
“You’ve been following the money trails for some time?” Father Essex asked.
“Yes. We never freeze accounts because it allows us to follow the money for this reason: We sit back and watch what weapons and incendiary purchases are made and to who they’re going to—who the key players are. Then we intercept all matters of communication, discover their reasons behind the weapons acquisition, and then we mobilize counterterrorist units to defuse the situation. Unfortunately, few engagements slip through our net at times but not a lot. The attacks on the Jibla Hospital and the U.S. Embassy come to mind.”
Father Auciello nodded as he continued to stare at the photos of Amal Purakayastha. “Then we must assume that the encounter between these two, and with the transaction coming so close to the conclusion of this meeting, could be for the purchase of the Goliath Chamber. Two men with two separate agendas, one for profit and the other for a cause, can also be uniquely tied. The man with the hesitant walk could be Jaziri. And the man whose photos I look upon on the monitor is that of Amal Purakayastha, that I’m sure of. What we need to discover in limited time is where these men are and what exactly is in motion. And we need to know the major-targeted areas.”
“So far,” said Wilhelm Kaiser of Germany’s BND, “we’ve yet to locate either man in Paris, either through our operatives or through CCTV facial recognition. Most likely, both left the area before we received and deciphered the intel.”
“Agreed,” said Father Auciello. “We now have to upload the image of the remade Purakayastha into our facial recognition registry and use it to locate him globally, if possible. As for Jaziri, since we have nothing in our facial records that matches him, perhaps we can use the nature of his hesitant walk and gait as a means to locate him, like a fingerprint.”
“Still,” said Wilhelm Kaiser, “such limps are not entirely unique.”
“No,” said Father Auciello, “but it’s something. Whether the person of interest is not the man we seek, at least we’ve done our due diligence. But if the man with the limp happens to be Ahmed Jaziri, then that puts us one step closer to his client and the Goliath Chamber.”
Over the next half hour, the communication between the agencies continued. Plans were developed and decided upon as a mutual and coordinated effort to find and counterbalance the threat. But in order to do that, they had to locate Purakayastha and Jaziri, which would not be easy since both men were seasoned individuals in the game of espionage and terrorism.
“We know Purakayastha quite well,” Father Auciello added. “In fact, our team of Vatican Knights had a recent run in with him on Sinai. The Bangladeshi, as he’s called, escaped the net of our team that was led by Kimball Hayden—not an easy task, believe me. We’ll form a vigilant stream of joined communication to keep all agencies informed of our findings, while keeping in mind that it’s paramount to locate these two individuals.”
“Agreed,” said Leibowitz of the Mossad.
When communication between the agencies concluded, Vatican Intelligence went to work under the command of Father Auciello, who knew that finding the Bangladeshi or Ahmed Jaziri would not be easy. Both men had eluded global authorities for a number of years. To find them within days would prove to be impossible. Nevertheless, the word ‘impossible’ did not mean that something could not be done; it simply measured the degree of difficulty.
As a collective of one, the Jesuits went on a cyber hunt for Ahmed Jaziri and the Bangladeshi.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The Bangladeshi was a seasoned professional who took nothing for granted. On the day that the five-hundred-million dollars in U.S. currency was transferred into an account that had been created with false information, only for the amount to be converted into cryptocurrency and quickly disappeared into an untraceable virtual wallet, the Bangladeshi reunited with his two operatives, one from Paris and the other from Munich.
By definition, these two were urban mercenaries who performed their objectives without question. Each had been given a suitcase from the Goliath Chamber. The Man from Paris would go to Tel Aviv, the Man from Munich to Washington, D.C., and the Bangladeshi would go to Vatican City.
Handing off the suitcases, the man from Munich, after receiving the suitcase that had the emblematic marking of the oval shape with two curved outcroppings that depicted horns, asked if they were toting bricks, a light comment that
was meant to be in jest. But the Bangladeshi pinned him with a hard stare that encouraged a sheepish apology from the German.
For the next two hours, the Bangladeshi went into the nomenclature of the suitcases. He outlined in detail specific pieces while avoiding others, such as the spheres. He showed them how to powerup the units and set the timers. And he had both men perform these tasks repeatedly on a dummy suitcase until their actions became so routine that they could perform their duties either by habit or in their sleep. First, they learned the functions of the operating system to bring the unit online. And lastly, to set the timer.
Since minimal amounts of earnest agreements had already been wired into their offshore accounts from the Bangladeshi’s online ‘hot-wallet,’ the promise of lifetime amounts would be added upon (a), that the units make it to their major-targeted areas; and (b), the units detonate in a timed and coordinated strike from (a). For example, in the United States, the device would go off at twelve noon, whereas in Vatican City where the time would be six p.m. and in Tel Aviv seven p.m., with the explosions taking place at the same exact moment, even though the time zones are different. Once the devices ignited, only then would they see added bonuses. Since mistakes or errors were not options, then everything had to be precise, which was something the Bangladeshi made sure of by covering every possible angle and, should things go awry, the remedies to situational problems that would get them back on track. He left no stone unturned.