by John Lyman
“He does seem to have the upper hand, Mr. President,” said a tall aide who stood to the side of the table. “Maybe we should just play along until we can find the source of his computer power and eliminate it.”
Simon looked across the table at Doug Peterson. “What kind of computers did the Israelis say Acerbi was using?”
“Quantum computers, Mr. President, and evidently they’re hidden in locations all over the world. We might be able to locate some of them, but there’s always the chance we’ll miss a few. If we make a move to destroy any of them, the others will just take over and shut us down.” Peterson paused as his eyes followed the white crown molding around the top of the yellow walls.
“Spit it out, Doug,” the president said. “I can tell by that look on your face that you’ve got something else to say.”
Peterson lowered his gaze and looked directly at the president. “All of our military satellites went dark this morning, Mr. President, which means Acerbi’s already sending us a message.”
The president slapped his paper down on the table and exhaled sharply. “So now, because we’ve lost a few satellites, we’re supposed to agree to his demands? Do you realize what that means? Let me answer that question for you. It means that I would be surrendering the United States of America to a man who wants to eliminate our democratically elected government. Can you imagine that? We’re talking about a dictator here, and people are rejoicing in the streets. It’s madness!”
Shane Trent shifted uneasily in his seat. “Did you read the report from our meeting in Gibraltar, Mr. President?”
The president’s face became a mask of disbelief. “You mean the meeting where Acerbi’s father told you his son is the Antichrist? Am I really hearing this?”
Trent looked nervously around the table. “I’m only presenting the facts, Mr. President. I was probably more skeptical than most when Acerbi’s father and Pope Michael came to us with that story. But now I’m not so sure. I mean, this guy basically turns the world on and off with the flick of a switch, and people seem hypnotized by his ideas. They think he’s some kind of savior. Then there are the deaths to consider. Eduardo Acerbi and the pope are both now dead, and our sources in Rome are telling us the pope’s death looks suspicious. Then Cardinal Amodeo, the next in line to follow the pope, dies suddenly in a plane crash that hasn’t been explained yet. If this guy’s not the Antichrist, he’s doing a pretty damn good job of imitating him.”
The president shoved back from the table and stood. “I think you all know that I am a religious man, but I find all of this talk about the Antichrist to be just that ... talk. Let’s keep our eye on the ball and remember that we’re dealing with a megalomaniacal crazy man who wants to rule the world. This isn’t the first time in history that a delusional madman has appeared on the world stage expecting everyone to bow down to him, and it won’t be the last. It’s your job to try and figure out how we can defeat this threat, and the sooner the better.”
“That’s exactly what we’re trying to do, Mr. President,” Peterson intoned. “We’ve gone to a wartime footing at the CIA and NSA, but we’re pretty sure he knows what we’re doing. Our communications networks are all interconnected by computers, which were extremely secure until these quantum computers showed up. All of our top computer scientists believed this kind of technology was at least twenty years away, but somehow the Acerbi Corporation got the jump on us. He now has a trump card, and we’re pretty sure his people know what we’re doing, which means we can’t send any traffic that contains sensitive information. We’ve been flying couriers back and forth across the Atlantic with written messages in diplomatic pouches like we used to do in the Cold War days, which means he’s forced us into using a modern version of the old Pony Express. Not only that, but the targeting systems on all our modern weapons systems rely on the global positioning network provided by our military satellites, which, as you heard, just went dark this morning.”
The president turned his back and looked out through the large curved window. “What do you suggest?”
Peterson leaned back in his chair. “I agree with the assessment that we should play along for the time being until we can figure out a way to defeat this madman. Our contacts at MI6 and in Israel both agree with this strategy, because basically we have no other options on the table right now. If we fail to capitulate in the face of his demands we’ll be tossed back to the Stone Age. Better to have our infrastructures functioning while we work out a way to defeat him.”
The president seemed to wobble on his feet before he sat back down. “Can we stall him?”
“That would be up to you, Mr. President. Any direct dealing with Acerbi would fall under the umbrella of diplomatic negotiation. You could probably stall him for awhile on the details of the transition. I believe he plans on leaving all the current world leaders who cooperate with him in place as figureheads, so at least you would still be the president.”
Without a word, the president stood and looked around the table before he walked to his bedroom and closed the door behind him.
CHAPTER 52
ROME – THE VATICAN
In the sealed-off Apostolic Palace, the darkened hallways echoed with the ghosts of the past, while outside, standing shoulder-to-shoulder between the travertine lines that radiated outward from the obelisk in the center of Saint Peter’s Square, thousands stared up at the closed shutters of the Papal Apartments.
Peering out from behind one of Bernini’s columns, Francois Leander watched the growing crowd. He had always been proud of his profession. Never for a moment had he doubted that he could protect the pope. Maybe that had been the problem, he thought. Maybe his pride had gotten in the way and prevented him from doing his job. Whatever the reason, a pope had died on his watch, and the hardened commander of the Swiss Guard blamed himself.
“The crowd’s getting bigger,” a familiar voice called out behind him. Francois turned to see Bishop Anthony Morelli standing behind him. “Still thinking about leaving, Commander?”
“I don’t know, Bishop. Maybe it’s time I step down and let someone younger take the helm. Leo was next in line, but since he and the Holy Father departed this Earth on the same day, I don’t think I could stomach protecting Acone. If I ever find out he had anything to do with Pope Michael’s death he’ll need protection from me.”
“No matter what our suspicions, we still don’t know the cause of death, Francois, and Church law prevents us from having an autopsy performed. You can’t blame yourself. You did everything in your power to prevent him from returning to the Vatican. We’re all just soldiers who take orders, and we have to follow those orders. You were just following the Holy Father’s wishes.”
“Yes, and now Pope Michael and Cardinal Leo are both dead.”
“Are you telling me you blame yourself for the plane crash too?”
“I should have sent some of my men with him. They would have stood guard over the plane while it was on the ground and made sure no one got close enough to do anything that would cause it to crash.”
“For now the investigators seem to think it was an accident, but I agree. It’s just too much of a coincidence. Did I tell you the airport police found Leo’s smart phone in the departure lounge?”
Francois stared blankly out into the square. “No, I hadn’t heard that. I’ve been busy making sure Vatican City is secure for Pope Michael’s funeral.” Francois choked. “At least I can protect him in death.”
Morelli stood back and watched the grieving figure of a man who had always been at the top of his game. He was the best of the best, but the pope’s death had devastated him, and the fact that Leo had been killed in a plane crash on the same day had unnerved him to the point of paralysis.
“You say they found his cell phone?” Francois asked, his head twisting up in a quizzical expression.
Morelli turned to see the sharp policeman’s gaze had returned to Francois’ eyes. “Yes, they’re sending it to us via express mail.”
“It’s not like the cardinal to leave his cell phone lying around. He was always very careful about that because he had several classified phone numbers programmed into it. I remember him always double-checking his pocket to make sure his phone was on him before he left a room.”
Morelli stood by silently, wondering if Francois was beginning to grab at straws in his grief. At least he was thinking like a policeman again. “What are you thinking, my friend?”
“Just a hunch, Bishop. I’m going over to the command center. Care to tag along?”
Morelli jumped at the chance to help Francois exercise his mind in a different direction. “After you.”
Taking long strides across the San Damaso courtyard, the two men walked beneath the curved arches of a darkened medieval passageway and exited on the other side in front of Swiss Guard barracks. Entering the building, they took a staircase off to their right and descended into the heart of the Vatican’s underground communications center where, behind a glass partition, a wall of flat screens displayed images taken from every security camera inside Vatican City. With cameras installed in every courtyard, hallway, library, and chapel, there wasn’t a single area inside the Holy City that couldn’t be observed from the underground command center. Over a hundred cameras alone were positioned inside the basilica itself, while others were positioned on the walls and pointed toward the streets surrounding the small city-state to spot potential threats before they even crossed the border.
Francois crossed the room and picked up a phone, and after a few rings he heard a female voice on the other end. “JFK Airport Police. How may I help you?”
“Hello, this is Commander Francois Leander of the Swiss Guard at the Vatican. I understand that your men found a cell phone belonging to Cardinal Leopold Amodeo.”
“Hold on a minute, Commander. Let me check that for you.”
“Could you put me through to your commander?”
“Sure thing, sir. Just a moment. I’ll connect you with our chief.”
After a brief pause, a man with a heavy New York accent answered the phone. “Hello, Commander Leander. I understand you’re looking for the cardinal’s cell phone. We just mailed it to you this morning.”
“Actually, sir, I wanted to check on something else. Is there any way you could send me the digital recordings from the security cameras covering the departure lounge where the phone was found?”
“From the day of the crash?”
“Yes, sir. That’s the time frame we’d like to take a look at.”
“Look, Commander, what you’re asking is totally against the rules, but I’m a Catholic, and the cardinal was kind of a hero to us around here if you know what I mean. You’ll have your images in the next few minutes.”
“Thanks, Chief. I owe you one. The next time you’re in Rome look me up. I’ll make sure you get the grand tour of the Vatican.”
“We’re all sorry to hear about the pope and the cardinal ... both on the same day. I guess God does work in mysterious ways after all.”
“Yes he does, Chief. Thanks again ... I’ll be on the lookout for the pictures.”
“They’re on the way. Talk to you later.”
Leander set the phone down and took a seat in front of a console marked International Incoming. Pointing to the black, mesh-backed chair next to him, he motioned for Morelli to join him, and after waiting for less than a minute, a red light flashed on the console just as a picture showing a crowded airport departure lounge flashed up on the screen.
“What are we looking for?” Morelli yawned.
“I don’t know, Bishop. Like I said, it’s just a hunch.” For the next hour, the two men watched as people went about the business of waiting. Many read, while some just stared blankly out into space or tried to corral restless children from running over other people’s feet. The scene was eerie and hard to watch, for Francois and Morelli both knew they were watching the last hours of a doomed group of people who had no idea they were about to die. Luckily the chief had sent the images from every camera around the departure gate, so they could scan the crowd from different angles in their effort to spot Leo.
“I don’t see him in any of these pictures,” Morelli said. “Are you sure they sent us the right images?”
“From the sound of the chief’s voice on the phone, I’d be surprised if they sent us the wrong files.”
“Well, Leo was always running late for flights. We’ll probably see him arrive right before they start boarding.”
The two men continued watching, but when the passengers in the lounge lined up and filed out through the jetway after the boarding call, Leo was nowhere to be seen. A few minutes later the door to the jetway was closed and locked before the ticket agents walked away from a deserted gate area.
“He wasn’t there!” Morelli exclaimed. “He never got on the plane!”
Francois grinned. “It certainly looks that way, but how did his phone get there? Let’s see what happens next.” The two men watched in a trance. Everyone who passed in front of the cameras drew their attention, and then there was the sudden blur of activity as they watched people rushing to the windows to look outside after the crash. Many were crying and walking around with horrified looks on their faces, but still there was no sign of Leo. As difficult as it was to watch, they continued staring at the screen. The lounge began to empty out again as airport police and employees from the airline began rerouting people away from the gate area, and then they saw it. A tall figure wearing jeans and a black turtleneck walked into view next to the row of chairs separating the gate area from the rest of the terminal. After pulling his baseball hat further down over his eyes, he looked directly at the camera before throwing his cell phone under the row of seats and quickly walking away.
“That’s him!” Morelli jumped from his seat and began pounding Francois on the back. “He’s alive! You’re a genius, Francois.” Morelli looked down and saw tears of relief forming in the eyes of the tough security chief. “But why did he throw his cell phone away? Why didn’t he just call us?”
Francois kept his eyes glued to the screen. “I have no idea, unless ... Francois rewound the film and watched Leo’s movements again. “It looks like he glanced up at the camera before he threw his phone under the chairs. After the crash he must have figured out they were after him and began running for his life. He had to ditch his phone so no one could track him.”
“Are you saying he wants people to believe he’s dead?”
“I think that’s exactly what he wants. Someone is after him, which means that crash was no accident.”
Morelli collapsed back into his chair. “Acerbi!”
“Who else? It has to be. I’m sure his people have already seen the same images we just saw, and since they were sent to us via a commercial communications satellite, they know we’ve just seen them.”
“What are we going to do?”
“We’ve got to leave Rome, Bishop. Leo is alive, which means they’re still looking for him. Adrian’s men just took down an airliner full of people just to get to one man, and if they know he’s still alive they’ll be pulling out all the stops until they find him. We’ve got to get to Leo before they do. Any idea where he might have gone?”
Morelli leaned back in his seat and stared at the screen. “I think I might know of a place.”
CHAPTER 53
After building a small fire in the cabin’s rock fireplace, Leo walked outside to gather some more firewood before it rained. Against the lengthening shadows cast by the mountain peaks behind the cabins, he stood on a bed of pine needles and looked up through the hanging branches of the giant trees that encircled a place he had come to love.
The three cabins looked just as they did nine months ago, when he and Evita had stayed there for a week. Together they had talked and laughed, cooked dinners for two, hiked through the surrounding forest, and just lounged around reading and discussing their differing philosophies of life. To Leo, it seemed like it had been much longer. He mis
sed her terribly and began to wonder if he would ever see her again. He felt trapped, a prisoner of fear locked away on a mountain top far from any other living soul. Was he being a coward? Or was he staying alive so that he could continue to serve the Church from afar. He wasn’t even sure of the answer himself.
Instead of providing answers, his interior dialogue had only served to raise more questions, yet he was certain he was meant to be here. God had kept him from boarding that plane, and as Pope Michael had once reminded him by quoting Einstein, God didn’t play dice with the universe. Everything happened for a reason, even if that reason had yet to be revealed to him.
As he turned back toward the cabins, the stillness of the forest around him was broken by the sound of someone walking behind him. Dropping the firewood, Leo spun around, and there, standing less than twenty feet away with tears streaming down her face, was the love of his life. Evita Vargas stood silently for a moment, until finally she broke into a run. Throwing herself into his arms, she laid her head against his chest and sobbed as he held her tightly and stroked her long black hair.
“I thought you were dead, Leo!”
“I know. I’m sorry.” Leo took her tear-streaked face in his hands and kissed her on the lips. “I’ve been feeling dead inside ever since you left.”
“I never really left you, my love. It’s just that the timing wasn’t right.” Evita reached her arms all the way around his waist and squeezed. “I never want to be away from you again.”
“Neither do I. How did you know I was here?”
“Albert told me he drove you up here yesterday. Oh, God, Leo, you don’t know how much I’ve missed you.”
“Albert told you?”
“Yes, he’s part of our group. I’ve got a lot to tell you, Leo.”
With the sun rapidly disappearing behind the mountains, the two held one another tightly, afraid to let go, as if this were a dream and if they let go they would suddenly wake to the sights and smells of everyday life. After several minutes of listening to each other’s hearts beat, they locked arms and headed up the slight incline toward the cabins.