Vatican Knights

by Jones, Rick

  That catapults the probability of a teammate dying great.

  So as required by papal order before any mission, the Knights prepared themselves with prayer—except Kimball, who only found confidence in the weapons he carried. And Shari knew that such a man as Kimball Hayden could never be weaned from the savagery of his lifestyle. It was simply a part of him.

  As the aircraft sped toward Boston‘s Logan Airport, Shari felt a pang for a man who was willing to commit a single selfless act to save the life of the pope by putting his life at risk. No matter his past, no matter the brutal force of nature that propelled him to commit the atrocities he did, Shari hoped that Kimball Hayden would find the Light before he died.

  She prayed he would find it soon.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  Boston, Massachusetts

  Although posted at a distance, Boston’s Metro Assault Units developed a perimeter around the depository disguised as city workers, by blocking off connecting streets and avenues with flashing sawhorses and orange utility cones. Troops in full riot gear were ready in unmarked vans within the periphery. And by redirecting the masses in such a subtle manner away from ground zero, the area had been cleared without so much as drawing a curious eye.

  The city had set their ducks in a row.

  #

  The Vatican Knights had dressed accordingly by removing the Roman collars to avoid questioning, but continued to wear the embroidered crest of the silver Pattée within the powder blue shield on their body armor. Their black titanium assault helmets with tinted faceplates acted as night vision viewers, a technical creation from the brilliant minds of the Vatican Division Armory where the safety of each knight was mandatory and never a choice. The faceplate acted as a window that provided night vision capabilities with a 180 degree peripheral view, which was unlike the NVG monocular that granted less than 45 degrees. Each of the Vatican Knights was armed with the HK XM8 special assault rifle, which were configured in carbine form for close combat. Kimball, however, opted for the grenade launcher.

  Once the gear had been checked and double checked, once Kimball reexamined Shari’s combat gear for fit and maneuverability, the Vatican Knights set forth with Kimball on the point and Shari in the rear.

  They would start at the wrought-iron fence.

  #

  The Master lock was new, as well as the chain that held together the gates leading to the rear of the depository.

  Removing a canister from his cargo pocket, Kimball sprayed a corrosive acid on the links, the chain bubbling and boiling until the metal gave way. After removing the chain as if it was a delicate rope of garland, he opened the gate just wide enough to allow his team passage. Quietly, they maneuvered their way to the rear of the compound where they found the military transport truck hidden under a bevy of heavy boughs.

  Using hand motions to communicate, Kimball balled his fist and pulled down like a trucker blowing a horn, pointed to his eyes, then at the truck—a signal to Leviticus to scout the vehicle while the Vatican Knights held back.

  Leviticus moved in, prudently, his head and weapon on a swivel. After he scouted the truck, he offered a closed-fisted gesture indicating ‘all clear.’ The Vatican Knights moved quietly ahead.

  Behind the depository was a dirt lot bearing weeds as tall as a man’s waist, a good spot to hunker close to the three-story building without being seen. From their vantage point they could see the windows of the first level filled with brick and mortar. Also in view was a fire escape that hung tenuously from rusted bolts, its stability absent and too dangerous to mount. The windows on the second and third level were boarded over with sheets of plywood or planks, leaving the fire door on the first level a possible entryway. But the area surrounding the door was refurbished with new building blocks, meaning the area had been reinforced with steel rods before being re-bricked.

  That left the roof.

  Kimball withdrew into a wild tangle of bushes for cover and motioned his team close for conference.

  “Isaiah and Micah, you got the rooftop. One enters from the south, the other from the north. Once done, descend and converge until you locate the pope. Then report back with his pinpointed position. Questions?” There were none. “Go.”

  Isaiah and Micah moved swiftly across the drive and stood at the base of the building looking skyward toward the roof. Inside of Isaiah’s backpack was a pneumatic launcher geared to fire pitons. And after Isaiah locked and loaded a piton into the tube with an attached line, he aimed and shot the weapon so the piton embedded itself firmly into the wall about a foot below the edge of the roof. He then tested the hold of the line by pulling himself up the cord a couple of feet and suspended himself, the piton unyielding in its grip. Confident in the piton‘s ability to hold, they climbed the cable until they reached the rooftop, then disappeared over the edge.

  After giving the rooftop unit enough time to find a breach to enter the building, Kimball loaded his grenade launcher and took position with Leviticus standing alongside him with his HK XM8 directed at the target point. There would be no mistaking that their knock on the door was going to be noisy, since their intention was to cause enough of a distraction to drive the Force Elite to a single point of defense, while Isaiah and Micah converged in flank maneuver to hem them in. Since the site was fortified, there was no other option. The Force Elite had chosen well.

  Kimball directed the grenade launcher to the left of the fire door where the brick was old and aged, the weakest point, rather than to take on the newly reinforced area.

  “I’ll go in first to neutralize any immediate threat,” Kimball said to Shari. “Then Leviticus will follow and sweep the premise. After the area has been secured, I need you to stay behind and maintain a secure position to ensure that we didn’t miss anyone. Leviticus and I will move against any hostile attack from the upper levels. By that time the rooftop units should be moving into position to flank the hostiles. Questions?”

  “You want me to lag behind?”

  He stared directly into her eyes. “You‘re not trained for this, Shari, and you know it. Leave this to those who’ve been there and done that. I need you to take the rear and look for those we may have missed. Leviticus and I are going to draw the attention from the upper levels. And I’d like to do that without worrying that somebody is flanking us from behind.”

  She cocked her head. Kimball was right; this type of tactical work was way above her.

  “Good. Glad to see that everyone understands,” he said. Then, “Does everybody know their game plan?”

  Shari and Leviticus nodded. Their expected actions were clear.

  “Okay, people, this is what it’s all about.” Kimball aimed the launcher and pulled the trigger. To the left of the door the wall disseminated into carnage that sent shattered rock, brick and mortar in all directions, and then boiling plumes of smoke and dust exploded outward and upward, rendering visibility to zero.

  After loading a second grenade, Kimball moved in and disappeared into the smoke.

  #

  The explosion shook the whole building, galvanizing the Force Elite into combat mode. Each man grabbed his assault weapon and seated a bullet into its chamber as they took position along the third floor corridor. Diamondback manned the monitors, watching the dense smoke and dust on all screens. “We have a breach!” he hollered.

  “How many?”

  “Unknown!”

  Kodiak, Boa and King Snake took position along the top of the stairwell and aimed their weapons into the mushroom cloud boiling up at them at a furious pace. In a hail of gunfire hundreds of rounds were fired into the cloud, the bullets ripping out chunks of brick from the walls of the stairwell and sent them scattering into the billowing smoke cloud that roiled up the stairs like a geyser. In the time it took them to reload their weapons in the aftermath of the first volley, a second explosion rocked the building.

  Kimball Hayden was making a statement.

  #

  Team Leader moved like the wind dow
n the corridor, his Glock tightly within his grasp. When he reached the bank of monitors he shoved Diamondback aside in order to position himself in front of the viewing screens. Managing the joy stick, Team Leader directed the remote camera lens toward a position where dust and smoke were minimal, and noted a large man enter swiftly through a hole in the wall on the first-floor level. Watching the figure load another grenade into the launcher, Team Leader zoomed in on the man’s features.

  Although the commando’s head gear included a tinted face shield, it did not cover the man’s face totally. Team Leader thought he saw the man’s lips curl into a sardonic grin before aiming the launcher at the camera, then pulling the trigger.

  The second explosion was far more brutal than the first.

  #

  After hearing the explosions, Metro’s Assault Teams were immediately deployed as backup units. They dispersed from the cube vans and closed the perimeter until the depository was absolutely the epicenter of all activity.

  With the noose drawing tighter, even a cockroach would have had difficulty breaking through the column unseen.

  #

  After the first explosion, Micah and Isaiah entered the building from opposite ends through holes in the poorly maintained roof. On the south end Isaiah lowered himself onto a rickety header beam, the wood groaning under his weight as he dangled from the girder, then let go, his body landing with natural grace on the hardwood floor of a corridor leading to a stairwell.

  Directing his HK XM8 in front of him, he scoped the area for hostiles and noted the south stairwell had collapsed to rubble all the way down to the first level.

  Knees slightly bent and body bowed forward, Isaiah moved along the corridor viewing the scene through the crosshairs of his weapon.

  #

  Micah found a passage through a hole in the roof barely big enough to pass through. After gaining a handhold on a rotting joist beam, he carefully took position within a tangle of rotted wood where he watched the Force Elite take position on top of the stairwell and fire off several rounds to deter any hostile advancement.

  Micah noted Isaiah was nowhere in sight. And with no one to cover him he felt highly vulnerable.

  Further down the hall, crouched and shackled against the wall, were four members of the Holy See.

  The pope was nowhere in sight.

  Snaking into position between rotted beams, Micah clicked on the laser sighting and focused the dot onto one of the commando’s holding position at the stairwell. He could easily clear the area with three quick shots.

  Taking careful aim, the red dot landing squarely on the back of Boa’s head, Micah began to squeeze the trigger.

  #

  Leviticus moved in with Shari in tow and scouted the entry area. Once he established that the area was secure, Shari instinctively swiped at the swirling dust as if to drive the cloud away. She had no success.

  #

  Gunfire continued to erupt from the north end of the stairwell, the ammo taking pieces of concrete from the walls and stairs—a strong message to the advancement team that the stairwell was not a consideration for encroachment.

  Kimball brought his hand to his lip mike and drew it closer to his lips. “Isaiah?”

  So far the corridor’s clear, he returned. I haven’t been able to pinpoint the packages. My guess is that they’re probably at Micah’s end.

  “Copy that . . . Micah?”

  There was no reply. Micah was either occupied or dispatched.

  “Isaiah, Micah’s right on top of them!”

  I’m moving, Isaiah said.

  “Be careful!”

  It wouldn’t be long before Isaiah and Micah were in position to draw the attention of the Force Elite, considered Kimball.

  #

  The red dot wavered ever so slightly on the back of Boa’s head, a zone that promised a quick kill. Slowly, Micah pulled back on the trigger, the tension set lighter than most assault weapons, and slowed his breathing to steady his aim. After killing the first one, he would kill the other two while they were caught in the grip of their own surprise. The trigger slid farther back, the mechanism about to engage, the red dot as steady as a tattoo.

  And then the kill shot.

  Micah’s face shield exploded into spider’s web cracks as a single bullet penetrated the plastic guard, a single hole placed dead center. Micah’s head reared back as if trying to understand the moment of his sudden death, and then he fell from the beam and landed on top of another joist. His midsection was draped in such a way that it looked as if he was momentarily suspended in midair trying to touch his toes, before sliding noiselessly from the girder and to the floor.

  From a distance Team Leader had seen the red laser dot from Micah’s weapon, a microdot floating in space, and then he took careful aim and fired his Glock. As he closed in, a ribbon of smoke was rising from the tip of his pistol, the weapon directed right at Micah as he lay there. After he examined the body to confirm the man’s death, he noticed the silver Pattée within the shield and the flanking heraldic lions that supported the crest on his body armor. No doubt the squad emblem, he thought.

  Looking ceiling-ward he noted the poorly constructed roof. He had always known of its porous quality, having absorbed the rains for several years and gone unkempt. It was obviously the opportunity the combatants had found in order to breach the building silently. The first-floor entry was simply a diversion tactic that nearly worked, his team maintaining their concentration on what they thought was the only point of advancement while others entered unseen from above.

  Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, Team Leader realized that his aspirations of dividing the world into warring factions were now idealistic rather than a reality. If he was to kill the pope now, and the truth be known to the world community that it was a top Israeli commando who actually pulled the trigger, then that would only isolate his beloved Israel rather than propel it to the fore.

  His dream was dead and he knew it.

  Team Leader quickly made his way down the corridor. Without a doubt the building would soon be overwhelmed, since the operative he killed was sent to pinpoint their exact location. Whether or not the man succeeded in his mission he didn’t know. But one thing was for sure—it was time to jump ship.

  #

  The pope clung to Bishop Angelo’s hand, Angelo’s digits having locked into place, unable to bend to embrace the hand of the man whom he had come to love as a father. Nevertheless, the pope cupped his hands over the bishop’s and held on as if he’d never let go.

  In the background was gunfire, a lot of it. And in the back of Pope Pius’s mind he truly believed his time on earth was coming to an end.

  So he prayed.

  He prayed for the forgiveness of those who would take his life, and for those who would take the lives of those surrounding him. He prayed for his own salvation, ashamed for hating the man who forced him to witness Man’s darkest side. He had come to realize that the Light of his world was imbibing the Darkness of someone else’s.

  From the corner of his eye, as he held Bishop Angelo’s hand, and the gunfire never lessening, Pope Pius spotted the Dark Man of his hatred standing silhouetted in the doorway against the ongoing muzzle flashes in the background. With his weapon drawn the man entered the room. And in a look of defiance, Pius courageously raised his head.

  For a moment they stared at each other, the firefight in the background becoming a drone as they appraised one another. Each man had learned some insights of the other, perhaps the Light imbibing as much of the Darkness as the Darkness imbibed the Light, making each man equal since they now shared qualities of both. How they exercised those qualities would still come from each man’s independent will. It was all about making the choices that suited them most—good, bad or indifferent.

  Team Leader looked him in the eyes and was pleased with what he saw. Here sat a man who was not afraid to die, a man whose conviction of faith was strong enough to break the chains that bind him, if only he ha
d the physical strength to do so. And then Team Leader did something uncharacteristic; he bowed to the pope in what Pius took to be a measure of respect. “For centuries my people have been persecuted,” he said. “But no matter what, we’ll eventually persevere. You’re a good man, Your Holiness, but until all become like you, only then will this end. I could only dream of such a day.”

  Raising his weapon, the laser finding its mark, Team Leader pulled the trigger.

  #

  “Isaiah.” Kimball’s voice was loud, as if to cry out over the noise. “Have you detected the packages?”

  That’s negative. I’m coming to a doorway leading to the north corridor. So far the south side is clear. It seems that Micah might have come straight down into their laps since the point of defense seems to be at his entry.

  “Copy that.” And then, “Micah?” There was no answer, which concerned Kimball. And then again, but this time louder, “Micah?”

  When he didn’t answer, Kimball turned to Shari, the Incident Command Deputy, and gave her a gesture of circling his hand in the air as if twirling a lasso. “To the south sector maneuvering to the north!” he hollered to her.

  Shari pulled her lip mike close and barked an order to the Incident Command Post. Bring in the Descending Angels.

  The cavalry was on the move from above.

  #

  Kodiak glanced up from reloading his weapon and saw Team Leader run toward the south end of the hallway and disappear in the shadows. His mind immediately clicked on the realization that Team Leader was bailing. He had been so focused, so diligent to duty; he had drawn himself into tunnel vision and was hardly aware of his surroundings beyond the stairwell. After firing the last clip into the dusty shaft, he pulled back along with Boa and began to retreat. King Snake maintained his position.