The Crimson Dagger - Vatican Knights Series 23 (2020) Rick Jones (ebook reader play store txt) 📖

Kimball studied the building. And then: “I do.”

Addressing his team of Vatican Knights to follow, Kimball led the charge inside the Kristallpalast.

As smoke and fire billowed from the openings on the fiftieth floor, Müller could only shake his head and wonder if, perhaps, it was best for the Vatican Knights to take charge. Apparently, Ali Mustafa was operating within a league of his own.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Vienna, Austria

ORF 1 broadcasting is a brilliant and innovative news reporting network and one of Austria’s lead reporting centers. One of ORF 1’s lead journalists, Adolphus Hoorn, was known to be ambitious and sometimes overly committed by skirting the rule of law after claiming ‘freedom of the press.’ His scoops had frequently triggered warranted investigations into corrupt findings. And because of this, journalistic accolades were usually not too far behind.

From his desk as he watched the Kristallpalast online from ground teams, Adolphus could feel the tingling sensation that often prickled his scalp, that sense of brewing urgency that had catapulted him to the top of the journalistic food chain. He wanted to be there and to be a part of the overall scheme, which was to be front and center. He would break all the rules and standing regulations to promote himself, even with his arrest becoming a certainty. He had been incarcerated before with his antics of defying the law which put him within the glow of the public spotlight. He was a rock star in the industry, a virtuoso whiz kid who reported without fear of consequence because his gift was to provide the masses with ‘unadulterated public knowledge.’ In Adolphus Hoorn’s mind, rules did not apply to him.

Reporting news from ground level were the acts of novices, he considered, with boring anecdotes having been woven from so-called witnesses. Lines were established and a perimeter cordoned off with reels of yellow tape and managing police officers. And the masses had gathered religiously behind these boundaries as their macabre fascination kicked in.

And then it happened, something wonderful, stupendous and newsworthy at the same time, something that would enable him to adorn his wall with one more accolade for journalistic reporting.

A tier of the hotel exploded outward from all four sides with the level belching flame and smashing windows. Broken glass flew with the trajectory that carried far and wide. The camera within the cameraman’s grip wobbled tremendously from the concussive blasts. And when the camera readjusted and refocused on the building, the hull of the Kristallpalast was being consumed by fire and smoke.

There was a gleam in both of Adolphus Hoorn’s eyes, those star-point glimmers of light that silently stated that rules were not made for him because the shield of ‘freedom of the press’ had its advantages.

He watched the flames as they climbed and lapped at the building, charring it.

His pulse raced to the point where he thought his heart would misfire and his excitement unmanageable.

Rules were not made for me, he thought.

Grabbing his cap, Adolphus Hoorn raced from his office to look for Wilhelm Heickert, the channel’s chopper pilot, and found him sitting on the toilet in the stall with the door closed, the man doing his business.

“Come on, Wilhelm. An opportunity awaits.”

“There is no opportunity because the airspace around the hotel is restricted.”

“Wilhelm, we’re the press. We have leeway.”

“Look, Adolphus, I know you’re excited because you see an advantage in the storyline, so I’ll say this again: the airspace around the hotel is restricted.”

“If you aid me in this, Wilhelm, if you take me up, I’ll pay you one thousand euros.” When Wilhelm Heickert did not respond, Adolphus upped the ante. “All right, two thousand euros.”

“And if I get arrested?”

“I’ll pay your bail, as well.”

“On top of the agreed-upon euros?”

“Yes.”

There was movement behind the stall’s door, the flush of a toilet, and then the door opened. Wilhelm Heickert was a small and nondescript man, but his piloting skills were stellar since he had served as part of Austria’s Kommando Luftstreitkräfte. Though he was an elite flyer, he was also known to be quite mercenary.

Moving past Adolphus and to the sink basin, and then after washing and drying his hands, he said, “What are you waiting for? We have a story to cover.”

Both men quickly made haste towards the chopper’s launch pad.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

The Kristallpalast

Vienna, Austria

The gas explosion had taken out three floors including the stairwells, but not enough to compromise the beams or supports. The buttresses had held firm.

When the gas on the restaurant level ignited with the upsurge sending waves and shivers throughout the building after the explosion, Ali Mustafa appeared calm and reserved with one leg crossed over the other as though in leisure, while holding the Spear of Destiny in both hands. The others, however, appeared disturbed that their surroundings had shuddered. Pictures hanging on the walls had fallen from their moorings. Vases and desktop items fell to the floor, some breaking. And cracks appeared in the walls and ceiling, the fissures snaking across the surfaces with incredible speed.

When the shaking stopped, Mustafa, in the same state of calm, set aside the Holy Lance.

But it was Abd-al-Mumin who stepped up in challenge. “Have you resolved to burn us alive in Allah’s name and martyr us before we have a chance to serve? You said that we’d be in Syria within hours! And yet you do this!”

Mustafa patted the air, the gesture telling Abd-al-Mumin to calm down. “In warfare, Abd-al-Mumin, you anticipate the move of the enemy and counter with a move of your own. I have taken away every possible advantage of the enemy’s approach from above and below. People are now trapped on the upper levels, meaning that the Austrian government’s new priority is to save their lives. I will grant them this opportunity to do so—to save their lives—but only when my demands have been met. What you do not realize, my friend, is that I have