by John Lyman
“I mean exactly what I said, Ms. Hastings, so please sit down and listen.” The man speaking was Sir Christopher Links, the head of the agency who had just come from a meeting with the Prime Minister at Number 10 Downing Street.
“The submarine stopped communicating with us after the last message they sent this morning.”
“Where are they?”
“Their last reported position was in the Mediterranean, off the coast of Israel.”
“But Captain Moss is one of the best naval officers England has ever produced,” Hastings said. “This is completely unlike him, sir.”
“I agree, Ms. Hastings. He was due to be promoted to the rank of admiral upon his return from this voyage. Apparently, the order to turn control of our fleet over to the Acerbi Corporation was more than he could bear. He and his crew have vowed to fight on by themselves, to the death if necessary, to prevent the HMS Ambush from falling into the hands of a madman.”
“Has he gone mad himself? I mean, doesn’t he realize we have no other options at this point; that we’re only trying to appease Acerbi until we can locate all of his quantum computers and destroy them? He was supposed to be a part of that plan. The American CIA is working with us on this, and it’s only a matter of time before we gain the upper hand and send this Acerbi creature scurrying back into the black snake hole he crawled from.”
“Apparently, Captain Moss doesn’t see it that way. Personally I’m beginning to have my own doubts, but we’ve got to go about this the right way. Things could get pretty dicey in the next few hours unless Moss agrees to give up his command and return to port. The Prime Minister has already promised him that there will be no repercussions if he returns to England right away.”
“That’s a crock, sir, and you know it. The captain’s career is now in the toilet. He knows it and we know it. A man like that doesn’t make a decision like this without thinking it through. I’m afraid we’ve got a real problem on our hands unless someone onboard manages to take control of the sub away from him.”
Links walked to the window and gazed down at the river. “I’m afraid there’s something else.”
Gwyneth collapsed back into her chair. “Isn’t there always.”
“A story came out in a French newspaper yesterday about a woman and two men who have been convicted of crimes against the new world order. Adrian Acerbi has decided that they should be burned at the stake as a lesson to others.”
“Burned at the stake!” Hastings rose from her chair and leaned over the table. “Are you kidding me?” Her cheeks turned crimson. “Well, it looks like our peace-loving knight in shining armor is beginning to show his true colors. People who were on the fence post will now see him for what he really is ... a tyrant.”
“Yes they will, but they will also begin to fear him. Most of the world’s governments are now under his control. His power has grown to a point where he has become almost invincible, and it would take an act of God to stop him. I’m afraid we’re all in for a bit of a bad ride, which is why Captain Moss has probably taken the action that he has.”
Hastings stared at her boss, her thoughts returning to the meeting in Gibraltar where Eduardo Acerbi and Pope Michael had tried to warn them. “What do we do now, sir?”
“We pray, Ms. Hastings ... we pray.”
CHAPTER 66
All through the night, Gael and his men, along with most of the able-bodied Israelis, had crept through the forest to the ruins of Lev’s castle on the other side of the valley. By now the sun was coming up, and they had only twenty-four hours before Colette, Colonel Demir, and Abbas were due to be executed on trumped-up charges designed to draw Leo and the rest of the Bible Code Team out of hiding.
“We never got to see the damage Rene’s rockets caused when they hit the walls,” Lev said, staring up at the jagged ruins at the top of the hill. “It’s beyond repair.”
Ariella put her arm around her father. “We’ll rebuild it someday, Daddy. Even better than before. Look, the vineyards look great. Someone must have been taking care of them.”
“And why not. Someone should benefit from some of the finest vineyards in the valley.”
Gael looked amused as he kicked the earth with his deerskin boots. “Actually, we’ve been taking care of the vineyards. The wine we served you the night you arrived was made from these grapes. We have several other vineyards scattered among the farms here in the valley ... and gardens too. Like Julian said, we’re hiding in plain sight. The sight of people working in the fields around here usually doesn’t draw much attention from the authorities.”
Lev glanced over at the burned remains of a house at the bottom of the hill. “That was Ephraim’s house. There should be an entrance to a tunnel somewhere beneath that pile of rubble.”
“We’ve already checked that,” Gael said. “The tunnel entrance is blocked, but a small section of the bottom floor of the castle is still pretty much intact.”
“Let’s go have a look.”
The group climbed to the top of the hill and walked through a jagged opening in a partially collapsed wall. The walls of the rubble-filled grand hall were still standing but open to the sky, which meant that at least one entrance to the tunnels and the rooms below was still intact.
“This will work quite nicely,” Lev said, stepping over a crushed timber to stare down into the curved stairwell that led below.
Alon nodded his head. “At least it will provide us with some cover for a few minutes.” He turned and clapped John on the shoulder as he looked back through the opening in the wall. “Come on, little brother. Let’s take a walk along the perimeter and start laying out our fields of fire. I want that road to the west covered in case we become trapped.”
While John and Alon headed down the hill, Lev and Moshe walked with Gael past the splintered remains of the tall entrance doors and sat at the base of the stone steps. Picking up a small stone at his feet, Gael tossed it over his head and watched it bounce down the hill. “I’m still a little confused by the plan. Why not just make a quick raid on the jail itself before they take them to the execution site? Once we have them we’re pretty good at disappearing into the forest.”
Moshe picked up a stick and began drawing in the dirt at the base of the steps. “Because, that’s exactly what they think we’re going to do, and they’ll be waiting for us. Your scouts reported that every building around the jail is full of Acerbi’s men just waiting to pounce on anyone who tries to rescue the prisoners, but they probably haven’t considered the fact that we’d wait until the last minute to make our move, especially since they plan to carry out the execution in the middle of a field without any cover. That’s why we’re going to attack there instead of in town.”
Gael tossed another rock into the air and stared down at Moshe’s crude drawing of a field surrounded by trees. “You do realize that they will probably have over a hundred soldiers with heavy weapons surrounding the site of the execution. We’ll be slaughtered before we can even reach them.”
“I figure they’ll probably have at least two hundred soldiers guarding the field, plus they’ll undoubtedly have armed helicopters scouting the area from the air.”
Gael looked up at the sun before he rose to his feet. “I sure hope you people know what you’re doing, because my men and I will be with you.” Without waiting for a response, he slowly began to pick his way back down the hill to supervise the preparations for the coming battle.
“I wonder,” Lev asked, watching Gael walk down the hill. “Do we know what we’re doing, Moshe?”
Moshe looked out at one of Acerbi’s helicopters crisscrossing the valley floor in the distance near the site of the planned execution before he glanced back down at his crude drawing in the sand. “Well, you know what we always used to say before a battle, Lev. Plans are for the here and now. Outcomes are for the history books.”
CHAPTER 67
The morning of the planned execution dawned under a brilliant blue sky. Even the wind was stilled as bir
ds chirped from the trees surrounding the pastoral field where the burning was to take place. Nature, it seemed, showed no emotion to the horrors of man. Nature was but a stage upon which the unworthy actors of humanity played their parts, and like every play, some actors played good parts and some played bad.
Under the blind gaze of Montsegur’s towering ruins perched on a nearby cliff, the good actors crept through the forest around the infamous Field of the Burned and waited. To the west was the Village of the Sun, where Julian’s castle lay hidden from view on the top of the mountain, and twenty miles to the northeast, the ruins of Lev’s old castle slumbered at the top of a rocky hill like a giant beast, apparently abandoned and waiting for another beast to arrive.
In the village of Foix, the houses were shuttered as if a great storm was approaching. No children played in the streets and no mothers shopped in the stores, for everything was closed down tight as heavy armored vehicles drove through the streets and helicopters swooped by overhead.
Blinking in the sunlight, Colonel Demir, his hands tied at the wrists with plastic cuffs, was the first to be led from the tiny jail to the back of a waiting armored personnel carrier. A few seconds later, Abbas stepped from the building followed by Colette, who seemed to be humming some kind of hymn under her breath. Against the background sounds of radio chatter and the casual banter coming from the young troops lining the streets, the procession moved slowly away from the jail under the close scrutiny of snipers stationed on every rooftop along the route.
At the front of the procession, a camouflaged Humvee with a rotating gun turret on top drove ahead of three armored vehicles full of heavily armed troops, and in the middle of the convoy, the armored vehicle carrying the three condemned prisoners was followed by more armored vehicles, including two tanks that brought up the rear. Alon had been correct in his assessment that bows and arrows were no match for the force guarding the prisoners. To those looking on from the cover of the forest, it seemed that this show of strength was designed more to keep them away rather than draw them out as they had been led to believe.
As soon as the vehicles were clear of the town, the commander riding in the lead vehicle began scanning the surrounding countryside. “I would have thought that if they were going to make a move they would have done so by now. Now the fools will have to face us across open ground. It looks like these prisoners are going to burn after all.”
The sergeant driving the commander’s vehicle studied the wooden structure before looking away. “Don’t you think this kind of punishment is a little extreme, Commander?”
“Our job is to escort the prisoners to the place of execution, Sergeant, nothing more. As soldiers, it is our job to follow orders, and I sincerely hope that I’m not forced to remind you that any failure on your part to carry out those orders would be treason ... which is punishable by death.”
“I don’t think any of the men need to be reminded of that, sir, especially after they heard the details of what we’re going to do to those people today. But I have to tell you, a lot of the men are wondering about the method. I mean, it makes my skin crawl. Why not just stand them up in front of a firing squad and be done with it? I’ve been in war before, sir, and I can tell you that doing things like this only strengthens the resolve of your enemies.”
Pulling his sunglasses down over his nose, the commander studied the sergeant’s face as they turned off the road into the field. “I think you’d be wise not to say anything else, Sergeant. We have our orders and we’re going to see them through. If you’re not up to this you need to let me know now.”
The sergeant stared straight ahead without answering as the vehicle rolled to a stop in front of a tall wooden platform that had been constructed the day before. Bundles of firewood were stacked beneath the rough planking of a crude floor at the top of a wooden staircase, and standing off to the side, a man dressed in camouflage and wearing a black hood was holding a lighted touch, its black smoke rising into a cloudless sky.
Stepping out onto the dry grass covering the field, the commander walked around the platform, testing the strength of the stairs and running his hands over the stacks of firewood before motioning to the sergeant standing at attention by the vehicle. “Have the men take up their defensive positions and then bring out the prisoners.”
Hesitating for a moment, the sergeant locked eyes briefly with the commander before finally speaking into his radio. Instantly troops began jumping from the backs of the armored vehicles, while behind them, the sound of turbines roaring to life marked the progression of the tanks as they headed to opposite sides of the field in a maneuver designed to provide covering fire over the area around the platform. Overhead, two Blackhawk helicopters circled the nearby forest, their door gunners aiming their machine guns at the ground as they made visual sweeps of the forest below for any signs of movement as the troops spread out over the area below. The ground around the platform was now a killing field for anyone who foolishly tried to attempt a rescue of the prisoners.
As soon as the area was secure, the ramp at the back of the armored vehicle carrying the prisoners thumped against the dry ground and the three bound prisoners shuffled from the vehicle, blinking in the sunlight as they stared up at the wooden platform. Looking over at Abbas and Colette, a shudder ran down Demir’s spine. This isn’t really happening. It’s all just a dream. They only did things like this in the Dark Ages!
But unfortunately for the three prisoners, the Dark Ages had apparently returned to the world, for Demir felt the very real point of a bayonet against his back as they were prodded toward the looming platform that towered above their heads.
Reaching the steps, Abbas felt his legs grow weak with fear. Up until now he had thought this had just been some great misunderstanding. What had they done wrong? They hadn’t kidnapped anyone. Colette had been held against her will, and she had asked them to drive her to Foix. Now she too had been condemned to die. For what? This was lunacy. Surely reason would prevail at the last moment and the whole thing would be called off by someone who saw the insanity of their situation, but as he saw the man with the torch step closer to the firewood beneath the platform, he stumbled on the bottom stair. His legs were failing him as he tried to remain calm for the sake of the other two, and as he blinked up into the white orb of the sun shining down over the platform, he began to pray as he started his fatal climb.
What was that hymn Colette was humming behind him? Abbas had heard it before in Christian missionary churches in Turkey. Nearer my God to thee! That was it. He had always enjoyed listening to the soothing tone of the hymn, but now its meaning struck him like a hammer as he stumbled again on the top step and shuffled out onto a platform and faced three wooden stakes sticking up through the floor.
Below him he could see over two hundred soldiers, their weapons pointed outward toward the surrounding forest as the other two prisoners were led to the stakes. Behind them, the commander climbed the steps and stopped a few paces away from Colonel Demir. It looked like he was studying the prisoners’ faces for any sign of emotion, but Demir’s brown eyes only blinked back at him from a mask of indifference.
“You’re a military man, aren’t you?” the commander asked, wiping his brow as the sun’s rays beat down on the site. “I can tell by your bearing.”
“And you are a disgrace,” Demir shot back. “You’re about to burn three innocent people, and your only excuse will be to tell us that you are only following orders. I’ve met officers like you in the past. Your so-called leader is nothing more than a terrorist, and you are nothing more than a lap dog!”
“Actually, you’re speaking to him right now,” the commander smiled as he pointed to a camera mounted to the railing around the top of the platform.
“He’s watching this?” Demir screamed. “What a sick bastard!” Demir looked at the camera. “My God, this is your own mother here with us!”
The commander felt his hands begin to shake when he heard the word mother, but he had his orders.
“Tie them to the stakes!”
A couple of young soldiers at the top of the platform began to approach the prisoners with lengths of rope in their hands but hesitated when they looked into their eyes.
“I said tie them to the stakes!” The commander was now visibly shaking.
“Any last words?” he shouted. The prisoners only stared back at him in disbelief, and when it was evident to him that they had no intention of speaking again, he turned on his heels and clomped down the wooden stairs. Looking over his head at the bottom of the platform, he walked over to the man with the torch. “How long will this take?”
With one swift motion, Cardinal Leopold Amodeo pulled the black hood from his head to reveal a pair of blazing green eyes. “As long as it takes for me to leave with the prisoners.”
The commander took two steps backward, the shock registering on his face as he reached for his pistol. “You!”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Commander.” Leo’s eyes narrowed as he thrust the lighted torch toward the commander’s face. “Feels hot ... doesn’t it?”
The commander’s mind began to race as he dodged the burning torch and wisely decided not to draw his pistol. Surely this man—this cardinal—was stark raving mad. But there was something else—something in the eyes that caused him to pause.
“You and your men are sitting in the middle of a minefield, Commander,” Leo said, stepping closer. “In case you’re wondering, they are planted everywhere, and they can be remotely detonated at my command. Let me give you a little demonstration.”
As Leo waved the torch over his head, the two tanks at the edge of the field exploded in mushroom-shaped towers of flame, leaving behind a pile of twisted burning metal that sent black columns of smoke rising into the clear blue sky. The commander’s breathing began to come in short shallow gasps as he took another involuntary step backward and glanced around at his soldiers. Despite the cover provided by their camouflaged Kevlar helmets and curved sunglasses, the fear on their faces was clearly evident as they too began to back away toward their vehicles.