The Eye of Moses - Vatican Knights Series 22 (2020) Rick Jones (amazing books to read TXT) 📖

of the foot or the hand, especially in cold-numbing weather, would spell disaster and catastrophe for the rest of the team. Without this backdoor advantage, the Consortium would quickly find themselves without an option outside of a direct attack, which was not even a consideration due to the volatility of the dark particle. If the assault disrupted the particle, the consequences could be great.  No one knew if it had the ability to destroy the mountain or mountain range, the power of its destruction too great to chance. Delicacy and surprise were key to this operation. And it was something everyone counted on.

Once the plan had been discussed repeatedly until it became imbedded into memory, the Consortium team, along with Kimball Hayden, geared up in black. They wore dark attire with coordinating dragon-skin vests for body armor. They tucked away firearms, knives and ammo into duffel bags which would be hoisted to the topside level with the use of ascenders. They checked and reexamined their weaponry for malfunctions and found them in working order. And Kimball Hayden, who had been in close combat a number of times, felt oddly comfortable with his situation.

Up there on that mountainside was the Eye of Moses, which may have had its power granted to it by the Hand of Providence during the moment of the Big Bang. In the wrong hands it could be the beginning of the end. And this was what Kimball Hayden resolved to stop.

This was his sole priority: to find the Eye of Moses and keep it safe.

The others within the group had their own agenda: to find Elias Caspari.

But another thought hit Hayden, too. Let’s not forget about the one called Salt.

After gathering their wares, and as the sun finally descended to provide them with the necessary cover of darkness, the Consortium unit went on the hunt to reclaim what rightfully belonged to the Vatican.

They were going after the Eye of Moses.

 

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

When the members of the Consortium reached the base of the mountain’s southside face, night had settled.

They had blended nicely with the darkness, black on black. On the ground were two duffel bags loaded with weaponry that included firearms, ammo, Kevlar helmets with NVG capabilities, blocks of Semtex and corresponding detonators, everything necessary to see the mission through.

After putting on the NVG headgear and powering up, their worlds became lime green.

What had been discussed in the pre-stages of the operation was that there would be four titanium lines; two for Misters Donatello and Michelangelo to use on the initial climb, and two to be staked to the mountaintop and tossed over the side without being tethered to the wall by pitons. These two wires would serve as the ascending lines without stopping along every piton, meaning the journey upward would be direct and would last approximately an hour, and perhaps a few minutes longer.

With their NVG goggles fully enabled, Misters Donatello and Michelangelo, while wearing boots with crampons for traction and twenty-pound rucksacks, began to scale the wall. Gains were marginal, the men climbing at a rate of four feet per minute. At this pace they would crest the mountain in just under six hours, given that there would be little to no hitches along the way. It would be another hour or two for the rest of the team to follow by way of their ascenders.

While Misters Donatello and Michelangelo continued their climb, Mr. Spartan, along with Mr. Archimedes, Mr. Galileo and Mr. Plato and Kimball Hayden, began to take inventory of their stock. They were each handed an MP7 along with several magazines by Mr. Spartan, which were to be stored on their dragon-skin body armor for easy access and quick reseating as soon as the magazine inside the weapon ran dry.

Next were the lip mics and NVG headgear, all tested and true. And then the Semtex bricks, all clay moldings that held an acrid smell to them. As long as the detonators weren’t attached to the cords, the blocks were benign. When active, however, they had the explosive capability of bringing down levels of the mountaintop facility.

Then Mr. Spartan tested his lip mic by checking in with Misters Donatello and Michelangelo, with Mr. Michelangelo stating that everything was ‘copasetic’ on their end. The audio feed was crisp and clear as if Mr. Michelangelo was standing right beside him.

Copy that, was the due response.

So far, plans were working to specs.

And Mr. Spartan was pleased.

* * *

Misters Donatello and Michelangelo were approximately twenty feet apart along the wall, with Mr. Donatello having a slight lead in the scaling process. There were several cracks and fissures, enough to make the climb easy. And when they came upon an opening or seam within the rockface, they accessed their piton gun, checked the gas cartridge, placed the gun’s point against the wall, and pulled the trigger. There was a pop and then a stamping sound as the force of the air punched the piton deep into the stone wall and locking it firm. After attaching the titanium cord, they continued upward inch by inch, foot after foot.

There was additional usage of the guns to secure the pitons with one muffled pop sounding right after another with the sounds dying away as a buffeting wind picked up. Heavy breezes of Arctic-cold winds began to test their abilities of adhering to the mountains wall, at times pushing so forcefully that Mr. Michelangelo thought that he was going to be tossed to the valley below.

Mr. Donatello believed the same, the winds at this level strong and without contrition.

And then a gust came by and swept Mr. Michelangelo from the wall, the man losing his grip and falling ten feet before his line got caught up within a piton, which snagged him from a long fall.

Mister Donatello instinctively reached out a hand, even though the gap between them was great. “Michelangelo!”

Swinging back and forth in space like a pendulum, Mr. Michelangelo gave Mr. Donatello a thumbs up. “I’m fine,” he told