The Eye of Moses - Vatican Knights Series 22 (2020) Rick Jones (amazing books to read TXT) đź“–
- Author: Rick Jones
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“What’s the purpose of continuing the line,” Mr. Plato said to make his point, “only for them to be cut down in the process? And yes. You’re right about that, Kimball. No doubt. But we live in a different age when assassins will do whatever they can to produce accomplishments. Unfortunately for Misters Spartan and Copernicus, though family is the only way to keep the organization going, family members also become targeted killings that can weaken the resolve of the company. I choose to sit back while others regenerate the firm with descendants. I will not put a bullseye on the life of someone I care for. Ever. You might want to consider the same since you’re a Vatican Knight.”
Kimball Hayden leaned back in his seat. Shari was his life, his future. By accepting the invitation of the Consortium, did it also place her life in jeopardy? Did he unknowingly put her within the crosshairs?
Apparently, Mr. Plato saw the warring of emotions on Kimball’s face. “She’ll be fine,” he told him. “For now.” Then the Consortium league member noticed the clerical band in Kimball’s shirt collar and pointed to the strip. “Let me ask you this: can priests get married when you’re a member of the Vatican Knights?”
“I’m not a priest.”
“Then celibacy is not a problem then. Just don’t forget what I said about your weak spot. You’ll be fine.”
Kimball, however, wasn’t sure if Mr. Plato was trying to appease his sense of worry in regard to Shari. If this was the case, then Mr. Plato had failed miserably.
Then Mr. Plato added, “All I’m saying, Kimball, is do your job well and everything else will fall into place.”
“Which is?”
“To pave the way for you to acquire the relics.”
“And if you fail?”
“We won’t.”
“But if you do?”
Mr. Plato gave off a half-grin as he got his feet with the glass half full, gave Hayden a couple of light pats on the back, and made his way to an empty lounge chair close to the fireplace.
Hayden, who continued to sit at the empty bar, was left to wonder.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Lucerne, Switzerland
Two Hours Later
Three men were sitting at an outdoor café with a scenic view of the valley gorge, enjoying hot beverages. On the webbing of their hands between the thumb and forefingers were tattoos of grinning skulls that had both eye sockets covered over with eyepatches.
They had been part of the assault unit that raided the Croatian site to appropriate the staff that had belonged to Aaron and wielded by Moses, the scepter having been one of divine power. Today, they were discussing the Eye of Moses and its implications of becoming a weapon so great that nations, including superpowers, would have to get on a bended knee in reverence to its power. In time—whether it be months, years, or decades—the vision of Elias Caspari would eventually come to its finishing point. Totalitarianism would be the ruling and governing fist, and a power by one. This they were sure of since each member within the Klan believed in Caspari’s ideology as the only true means to saving man, especially since the writing was scribed all over the proverbial wall as wars and terrorism ceaselessly waged. Eventually, this cauldron of contention would boil over if not handled accordingly.
As they spoke about ideology and global fixes, and of the potential power behind the Eye of Moses, the men were also being captured by the Consortium’s facial-recognition software through CCTV cameras. From 220 miles away, dots and lines from computer programming were marking certain landmarks on their faces to confirm identities. All had MATCH ratings of 99.9%.
From the Consortium Stronghold’s Computer Center, a signal was sent to Mr. Spartan in Lucerne.
It was time for Mr. Spartan to mobilize his unit.
* * *
Mr. Spartan was sitting alone on the patio that overlooked the apartments, the day beginning to bring a chill to the air. As he sat with his thoughts lingering, his wristwatch chimed. On the watch’s face was a message from the Consortium. Incoming: BGAN.
Mr. Spartan bolted from the chair and went to the BGAN computer system, booted it up, then hit the hi-lighted incoming message.
The monitor came up in grid-pattern with four panels to the screen. At the top-right portion were the three men in question, all confirmed hits from the Shadow Klan’s raiding unit from a few nights before. On the bottom of the screen were the coordinates to their location given in minutes and degrees. After Mr. Spartan typed in a few commands, the coordinates turned into a viable address, which was a small café six kilometers west of the safehouse’s location.
Without hesitation, Mr. Spartan called his team together in council.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Schwanen Cafe de Ville
Lucerne, Switzerland
Hans Gruber was one of the three men sitting at the café when they had been spotted by the CCTV cameras. The other two, Max Ueli and Alix Kristoffel, who were the size of rugby players, opted to end out of the conversation and got to their feet. After they fist-bumped Gruber, who decided to stay, Ueli and Kristoffel left the café.
Now alone, Hans Gruber watched steam rise from his drink. Then he looked at the Deep Mountain Facility that extended over the gorge like the horn of an anvil. It was a magnificent fortress manufactured from concrete and glass that would serve as a fine perch to rule from, he thought.
As time passed, Hans Gruber always relished these moments when everything was quiet and peaceful. He had been a mercenary who killed for wages in American dollars, British pounds, Euros, anything that would increase his bank account and get his adrenaline pumping. But when he met and listened to Elias Caspari, he received his vision with absorption and knew right then and there that he had a greater purpose in
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