by John Lyman
“What’s so strange about that?”
“The caller was Eduardo Acerbi.”
“You’re kidding! Acerbi called the Vatican?”
“Apparently. The call was placed the day after he disappeared from his house in Foix.”
“Do they know who he spoke to or what the call was about?”
“No. Both phones had military grade encryption software installed, but they were able to identify the fact that the caller was Acerbi and that he was calling from his private railway car. They just don’t know what was said or who he was talking to at the Vatican.”
“And Zamir is just now finding out about this?”
“With everything else that was going on in the world at the time, and with the situation in Iran heating up over the past few months, a single phone call to the Vatican sat at the bottom of a pile of messages on some analyst’s desk until he had time to read it and saw the name of the caller.”
“Unbelievable!”
Through the open door, the two men could hear the sound of motorbikes on the dock below.
“Sounds like our people are back from the cave,” Daniel said. “I’m dying to know what they found.”
Lev bolted from his chair. “So am I. Why don’t we go find out?”
The two men descended the mahogany-paneled interior stairway and stepped out under the blue-and white-striped awning covering the yacht’s main deck. Leaning over the railing, they could see Ariella and John dismounting their small motor scooters, followed by Alon and Nava who had just arrived behind them.
Lev smiled when he saw the hulking figure of Alon hunched over the frame of a tiny motorbike that was bending under his weight. It was a miracle that the little machine had been able to carry the huge man up the steep inclines of the surrounding hills, but Patmos had been a place long steeped in the history of miracles, so anything was possible here.
“Welcome back!” Lev shouted below. “You must be thirsty.”
“We’re dying,” Ariella said. “We ran out of water an hour ago.”
“Come on up. We’ve got some cold lemonade.”
“Sounds marvelous. Be right there.” Ariella hefted her small backpack over her shoulder as the four climbed the teak stairs to the main deck before plopping down in canvas chairs.
Sitting across from her, Daniel leaned forward and smiled. “Well?”
“Did we find anything ... is that what you’re fishing for?” Ariella frowned as she quickly downed a full glass of lemonade and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “We came up empty-handed.”
“But the code, Ariella. The coordinates lead to that particular cave. There’s something there, and it’s been there since John wrote the Book of Revelation in a cave that’s almost within spitting distance from the cave you were searching today.”
“We went over every inch of that cave,” Alon said, rinsing his head under a deck hose and letting the cool water drip from his hair. “Given the time frame involved, whatever we’re looking for was probably covered over years ago by layers of dirt, which means we’ll have to dig to find it. A project like that will take time, and it will definitely draw attention to our little expedition.”
“What about the actual cave John lived in when he wrote the book?” Nava ventured. “It seems to me like that would be the most logical place to look.”
“That big white monastery on the side of the hill is built around the original cave,” Lev said. “It’s become a shrine visited by thousands of tourists every year. The dirt floor has been paved over, and tapestries cover the walls. Any evidence of writing has either been erased by time or covered over by those who had no idea what they were doing.”
“Or they thought it was just ancient graffiti,” Nava said. “Not exactly a modern phenomenon. When Alon and I were traveling through France a few years ago we were standing inside Notre Dame taking pictures. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I looked over at one of the pillars and saw graffiti dating back to the year 1402 scratched into the stone. I mean, it was just a couple of names circled by a heart, but it was really kind of cool. I hate to say it because I don’t like graffiti, but I actually enjoyed looking at some of the old names scratched into that pillar more than I did some of the paintings we saw in the Louvre.”
“That’s because it triggered an emotional response stronger than the art you were looking at,” Lev said. “Looking at words carved in the 15th century by some lovestruck teenager can have a profound effect on anyone capable of conjuring visions of the past.”
Nava pushed her short black hair from her eyes and looked out over the harbor. “We’re facing the same problem Leo and Morelli are dealing with in Turkey. We don’t know what we’re looking for. Whatever it is could be in the form of some kind of graffiti, like in the cathedral, or it could be on a scroll or something buried in a box.”
“If it’s buried, we’ll probably find it in a sealed clay jar,” Ariella said. “That’s what they used in those days to bury anything they wanted to preserve ... like they did with the Dead Sea Scrolls. Maybe we’re looking in the wrong place.”
“But the code definitely referenced something left behind in that particular cave here in Patmos,” Daniel said, pulling at his short beard.
“The floor is mostly soft sand,” Ariella continued, “so maybe we could do a little fast digging at the base of the walls just to see if we can expose any old writing. I don’t think I need to remind anyone here that time is running out. We need to find whatever it is we were sent here to find, and we need to do it soon ... because Leo is counting on us.”
CHAPTER 9
Eduardo Acerbi walked slowly down a long hallway that stretched from one end of his enormous house to the other. He felt rather lost in the immense space after spending the past forty years in a small French farmhouse, where his only visitors had been the books that arrived on his doorstep courtesy of UPS. Feeling slightly out of breath, he stopped for a moment and leaned against a marble wall.
After taking a few deep breaths, he continued down the hallway and descended a winding stairway that ended in a foyer beneath an immense crystal chandelier. Picking up a few unobtrusive guards who began walking behind him as he explored the many corridors that ran throughout the ground floor of the palace, he looked back over his shoulder and smiled. “Why are you following me?”
“Orders, Mr. Acerbi.”
“Orders? Orders from who?”
“From Mrs. Acerbi, sir.” The guards exchanged glances. “She’s very protective of you, sir. We’ve been given orders to accompany you wherever you go.”
“That’s absurd. This palace sits behind tall walls surrounded by one of the finest security forces in the world. I don’t need protection inside my own house.”
“Yes, sir.” The two guards backed away as Acerbi’s eyes narrowed in anger. Turning around, he walked toward the front entrance and burst into the security control room. “Where’s your commander?”
The guards sitting in front of the security monitors were speechless, and as Acerbi took a step forward he saw one of the men reach for a control knob in front of a monitor labeled Subterranean Computer Area 9. Instantly the screen went dark, but not before Acerbi had seen the image of a towering black sphere inside a space filled with men wearing white protective suits over their clothing.
“Good morning, Mr. Acerbi,” a young officer said, rising from his desk. “How can we help you today?”
“I understand my wife has given orders that I am to be followed around in my own house. I can understand the reason for the patrols outside, but I want this inside nonsense stopped immediately!”
“Those orders were issued by Mrs. Acerbi for your protection, sir. Frankly, she’s worried about your health.”
“Well, since I’m still the boss around here, I suggest you take your orders from me or start worrying about the health of your jobs.”
The officer quickly stood at attention. “Yes, sir. It won’t happen again. I’ll have our captain inform Mrs. Acer
bi.”
“Don’t bother. I’ll inform her myself. Now, turn off all of those cameras right now and don’t turn them on again until I tell you to. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir ... but ...
“But what?”
“We’ll be left without a means to observe the area.”
“Use your eyes, young man. I don’t believe in cameras.”
“Yes, sir.” The officer walked to the center console and flicked a switch, and right away Acerbi saw all of the monitors go black.
“That’s better. Carry on.” Acerbi turned and ran right into a dark-looking man with a beard.
“Good morning, Mr. Acerbi.” The man spoke in a halting, Russian accent. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
“Who in the hell are you?”
Unlike the others, the man seemed unfazed by Acerbi’s anger. “My name is Ilia Sokolov. I’m the director of the Acerbi Corporation’s new computer division. We’re installing some of our latest equipment for you here in Babylon. Maybe we can have dinner together some evening.”
“Maybe. You’ll have to excuse me, Mr. Sokolov, but I’m in a bit of a hurry.”
With that, Eduardo slammed the door behind him and leaned against the wall. Sweat poured down his face as he felt his hands begin to tremble. Computer Area 9? A gigantic black sphere! A strange man with a Russian accent in charge of his computer division? What in the world was going on? Acerbi had to think. He had to find his son. Climbing the stairway, he headed down a long hallway to Adrian’s room and knocked on the door. After a brief wait, the door swung open.
“Father!” The smiling teen rushed forward and embraced the old man as if he hadn’t seen him for years. “Have you come to see the new computer games mother just bought for me?”
“Yes. Let’s have a look.” Eduardo watched, and as the computer-generated graphics jumped from the screen with a realism that was almost shocking to a man who was raised playing with nothing more than erector sets and tinker toys, he could see the vivid colors from the computer screen reflecting in his son’s golden brown eyes. “Why don’t we go for a little walk?”
“A walk? Are we going to the ruins of Babylon again today?”
“No, I just feel like some fresh air.”
“Sure.” Adrian switched off his computer screen and grabbed his smart phone before following his father outside into the blast furnace of the desert and the watered greenery of the manicured grounds surrounding the palace.
“Do you like it here, Adrian?”
The boy looked puzzled for a second. “I love it here, Father. For some reason, I feel more at home here than I did in France. The people here seem really friendly, and I love the food. Sometimes the internet goes down, but your people usually have it up again within a few minutes. Why do you ask, Father?”
“I just wanted to make sure that you’re happy here. Sometimes moving can be stressful, especially for a teenager.”
“It’s no big deal, Father ... really. I didn’t have all that many friends back in France. In fact, I don’t think there was any one particular person I ever felt very close to. I guess I’ve never had what you could call a best friend or anything like that, but that’s OK. I kind of like being off to myself ... except for you and mom of course. I love being with you.”
“I’ve noticed that about you.” Eduardo smiled at his son and rested a bent hand on the youngster’s shoulder. “At our age, your mother and I aren’t going to be around forever. You need to start making friends your own age.”
Eduardo felt the boy stiffen as he looked down at the ground and turned to hide an expression of anguish. His body shook, and then suddenly he reached out and grabbed his father and held on to him without letting go. He had suddenly become like a small child—one fearful of what might lie beyond the safety of his immediate family. To him, the world was an alien landscape strewn with the unknown. He wanted to stop time forever and make things stay just as they were, because he could feel something deep within, something foreign to him that was struggling like a drowning swimmer, and when it surfaced, it would push its rescuer back beneath the swirling current as it reveled in a new world of air and light. Somehow the boy could sense that Eduardo Acerbi was that rescuer, and he wanted to remain close.
“I’m sorry, son. I didn’t mean to upset you. Unfortunately for both of us, it’s a fact of life that your mother and I are getting older ... older than many parents who have a son your age. I’ve made arrangements for you to be well cared for ...
“I don’t want to talk about it, Father. I can’t bear to think of anything happening to you.”
Eduardo looked down and saw tears flowing down the boy’s face. Hardly the response one would expect from the Antichrist, he thought. Surely the signs were wrong. Some horrible, bumbling cosmic mistake had been made, and soon those who had claimed to know the truth would realize their error. This was a child of love. He embraced everyone around him, and his father had never seen him do one cruel thing in his entire life. Eduardo would pull out all the stops if anyone ever tried to lay a hand on the boy—or he would die trying.
Looking over his shoulder, he saw the ever-present guards following behind at a discreet distance, their automatic weapons at the ready. Could these men be trusted if the time ever came for them to lay down their lives for his son? Colette had assured him they were the best, for she had been the one responsible for screening everyone hired to guard the family, and she had been relentless in her quest to obtain the best. When it came to protecting her family, her energy was limitless, and those that didn’t measure up to her expectations soon found themselves out of a job.
“What are you two doing out here in this heat?” Father and son turned to see Colette marching from the house with a frown on her face.
“Father wanted to go for a walk.”
“It’s 110 degrees out here, Eduardo. This heat isn’t good for someone who’s spent the past forty years in the shadow of the Pyrenees. Why don’t you two go for a swim? It’s almost lunch time. I’ll have some Cokes and sandwiches sent out to the poolside cabana.”
“Sounds delicious, my dear. I’ll just go change into my swimming trunks and ... Eduardo froze. He had just seen something—something he couldn’t explain. His wife’s form had wavered before his eyes, and for a split second he thought he had seen a dark, winged creature standing before him, occupying the space where Colette had been standing just seconds before.
The old man stepped back, for in that instant he knew that the creature had recognized his fear. Suddenly he stumbled forward.
“Father!” Adrian screamed.
Eduardo’s face began to turn a dark shade of purple as small flecks of white foam dribbled from the side of his mouth. Rushing to his side, Adrian and the guards gently lowered him to the ground. Grasping at the air, he tried to mouth a few words, but it was obvious from the frozen look in his eyes that he was unable to speak and that his body was no longer responding to his commands.
“Someone call an ambulance!” Adrian yelled to the guards.
“It’s on the way, sir,” a guard said, bending over to shade Eduardo from the blistering sun.
Kneeling at his side, Collette took his hand and stroked his head as he stared up into a cloudless Babylonian sky. Trapped in a body that refused to obey the signals from his brain, Eduardo wondered if his time had come. The shadow of death was upon him, and like a worn seam in old fabric, he could almost feel his soul tearing loose from his body until suddenly, something jerked him back into the world of the living. Someone or something wasn’t ready for him to die just yet. Even though he couldn’t move, he was still alive, and he was aware of everything going on around him.
Releasing Eduardo’s hand, Collette stood over the limp form of her husband’s body lying awkwardly on the ground halfway on and halfway off the sidewalk. He was looking up at her with a pleading stare, and as he watched, he saw her image blur again for a split-second as a faint smile edged at the corners of her mouth, for
the emotional response of joy was a strange sensation for a demon. Colette was no longer Colette. She had been lured by her dreams to the ruins in Turkey, where the demon had been waiting to take over her body. The time for Adrian’s transition was fast approaching, and the Evil One was beginning to sow his dark seeds.
CHAPTER 10
The house in Sanliurfa seemed unusually quiet. Lying in bed beneath a quilted comforter, Leo stared up at the ceiling and tried to decide on a new course of action. One thing was clear. They would be going back to Orencik to explore the area for themselves, with or without the help of the village elder and his men.
A knock on the door from one of the household staff vaporized his thoughts. “There’s a telephone message for you, Cardinal.”
Leo tossed his sheets aside. “Did the caller leave a name?”
“It was from the Vatican, sir. They want you to call them on your satellite phone.”
“Thank you.” Leo struggled from under the covers and reached for the satellite phone next to his bed. He had forgotten to purchase an adapter for his battery charger that was compatible with the Turkish electrical system, so he had been leaving the phone off to conserve power.
After switching on the slate-gray phone and waiting for the green light signaling satellite acquisition, he punched in the number for the main switchboard at the Vatican.
A shy-sounding female voice answered. “Hello, Cardinal.”
Leo immediately recognized the voice on the other end of the line. It was that of a young nun Leo had met only once when he had toured the switchboard office at the Vatican so that he could put faces behind those he talked to on a daily basis; an attention to detail that had made Leo so invaluable to the pope.
“I was told I just received a call.”
“Yes you did, sir,” the young nun giggled. “The Holy Father has been trying to reach you. Hang on ... I’ll put you through. He’s waiting.”
“Hello?”
“Marcus?”
“Leopold ... I’m glad they were able to find you so quickly. How are things going in Turkey?”