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

Elias Caspari’s seasoned units watched that point with the keen eyes of trained soldiers. To access the mountain stronghold from that location would have been virtually impossible. So, Salt had wagered that the Consortium, as quickly as they were moving, were most likely to strike at a moment of great surprise. In order to counterstrike their raid upon Deep Mountain, Salt had night-vision cameras posted along the walls of the fortress and inside the gun turret.

From the communications and security lab, Salt, along with Elias Caspari, watched these blackened shapes approach the mountaintop lair, and followed their trail until they were lost from camera view in the swirling winds.

But they had watched the takedown within the gun turret and witnessed the executions of two men in an action meant to pave the way for the team’s advancement.

Two kill shots to the head, both clean and precise.

“The marks of a commando,” Salt commented softly when he observed the tape.

“You sound like you admire these bastards,” said Caspari.

“I admire their resourcefulness,” he answered. “I—we—were both wrong in believing that they would intrude the compound by chopper. Or to make a daring attack against the cable-car station to gain access to the precipice. Neither sufficed as a means of intrusion. And yet that was where we kept our eyes—at the points of predictability. And if the Consortium is one thing,” he said, “they’re not predictable.”

“All right, so they’re here. Now what?” Caspari asked Salt.

“I do what you hired me to do,” he returned. “My team is ready to protect the fronts.”

Elias Caspari got up from the neighboring seat and stood erect. “Make sure that this ends tonight,” he told Salt. Pivoting on the balls of his feet, Elias Caspari started to walk away. But before he left the chamber, he called over his shoulder and said, “The Eye of Moses is everything to this organization. Make sure that it stays in our hands.”

After Caspari got onto the elevator leaving Salt alone in his office, Salt whispered more to himself in confirmation, “The Eye of Moses isn’t going anywhere. This I promise.”

 

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

The glass doors to AI Dynamic were locked. But with a few muted pops of gunfire, the tempered glass shattered into little chips that scattered across the floor like a cache of diamonds. One by one the Consortium team entered the lobby with Misters Spartan, Archimedes, Donatello and Michelangelo fanning to the left, and Misters Galileo, Plato, and Kimball Hayden fanning to the right.

All four people inside the lobby were armed security. As the Consortium team spread themselves across the lobby while panning their weapons from left to right and then from right to left, the security officers went for their sidearms, with each man instantly catching a double-tap to center mass for their troubles. All four guards went down hard, apparently novices and non-trained personnel who were the first line of defense. What was coming next would not be an easy encounter with the approaching legion of fighters about to rachet up a few notches on the combat scale.

After the Consortium team cleared the lobby, they regrouped.

“So far so good,” said Mr. Archimedes.

“Believe me,” returned Mr. Spartan, “it’s not this easy. Look around you.”

There were cameras everywhere.

“They know we’re here. They were watching to see how many of us there were, inside and out, to get an actual read on our numbers and placement.”

Kimball Hayden pointed to the bank of elevators against the far wall. “Then let’s not disappoint them,” he said. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

In unison, the group made their way to the only means of reaching the lower levels.

* * *

Salt had gathered his unit, all experienced veterans who had either witnessed or dispensed carnage. There was Max Ueli with his disfigured face and misshapen eye, the man ready for battle by the way he chambered a round in his weapon with authority. And then there were others like Thibault, Grander, Ulysses, and Momeyer to name but a handful of team players—all who were trained soldiers and assassins, men with high-end battle techniques and specialties. Salt had surrounded himself with some of the deadliest men on the planet who devoutly shared the same ideology of one voice, one rule, and one order.

“Please keep in mind, gentlemen,” Salt’s voice remained even and formal, “that the objective here is to protect the Eye of Moses. Without it, we would never be able to reach our goal to claim superiority. The Consortium will prove to be a challenge, for sure. But keep in mind that we bested them once before, and we’ll best them yet again.” He turned and pointed to a bank of monitors on the wall. On the screens taken from different angles was the lobby. The Consortium team was maneuvering about. “Six are already dead. Four inside the lobby,” Salt stated. “And two more lie dead inside the gun turret.” He brought his hand down and looked directly at his team, his eyes bouncing from man to man. “No more will die tonight unless you’re a member of the Consortium, yes?”

There was a concerted cry similar to ‘hoorah’ from Salt’s teammates.

Then Salt added, “Now, let us go and greet our friends accordingly.”

With that, Salt, along with the members of the Shadow Klan, pressed ahead to meet the Consortium head on.

 

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Maryland

Shari Cohen had a daunting, if not surreal, vision. It had come to her like a splash of cold water upon her face, something that was startling and eye-opening at the same time. She had imagined Kimball inside a cold, dark place. He was standing alone within this land of unseen boundaries, as he embraced himself against a chill. She could see his lips moving, though no words had been spoken. And as quickly as his image flashed within her mind’s eye, and just as he was reaching out to her with an imploring hand, Kimball Hayden was gone.

Feeling as if her heart were about to misfire inside her chest, Shari placed a calming