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hand to her breast and took a seat. Her knees suddenly felt weak, almost numb. And sweat began to bead on her brow. Since her relationship with Kimball, they had grown so close to one another that their tie had become umbilical in a way that the other could identify with the other’s pain, grief, sorrow, sadness, joy or elation, even when they were distanced apart by half a planet. Nevertheless, she could sense him as though he was in Maryland, with the man she loved reaching out to her from the darkness of a strange wilderness . . .

. . . And then gone in a whisper of time.

Looking out the window of the cabin, she could see the snow whipping about like a blizzard snowfall, hard and unforgiving, the weather a sudden anomaly and perhaps a foretelling of a pending storm to come; or worse, the symbolic encroachment of immeasurable sorrow. Then as a knot of wood exploded from a log in the fireplace, she barked a startled cry.

Closing her eyes to glimpse a photostat memory of Kimball once again, she found it impossible to do so.

Then softly: “Come back to me, Kimball . . . Please come home.”

In the fireplace, the logs continued to burn.

* * *

Inside the Apostolic Palace

The Vatican, Vatican City

Pope Clement XV was standing along the balcony that overlooked St. Peter’s Square. It was dark with sleep eluding the pontiff.

As he looked over the stone railing, he recalled the moment, at this very banister, when he pushed Pope Gregory over the hurdle with a mighty shove to set things straight with God, and watched as the pontiff bled out on the pavement below. Then he looked at the culprit hand as he held it before his eyes, flexed his fingers, and then let it fall by his side believing that the action, at least in his mind, was necessary for the good of all things.

With the lights of Rome serving as glittering sparkles in the backdrop, and with the lamps aglow in the Square, Pope Clement XV admired his kingdom with slight nods of appreciation.

Here, he was king. And he was a king who would set new precedents of rule in times to come. When mobilizing the Vatican Knights, he would do so without the council of the Society of Seven. In fact, he would have the full and complete authority of any and all decisions when it came to the Vatican Knights. Employing Kimball as a man alone without his team was novel, since the Vatican Knights found their strength in unity. But by cutting away Kimball’s strength the same way that Delilah robbed Samson of his power by cutting his hair, Clement had stolen from Kimball his might by severing his team from his side. And with this amputation, Clement was sure that Kimball would not find success in his endeavors against the Shadow Klan.

One deadly shot, the pontiff considered, directed by God’s hand will ease me of my suffering, by removing the crown of thorns that is Kimball Hayden from my head. It was a wish and a prayer that Kimball Hayden would finally find his Darkness that he had so often worked from in order to serve the Light. Perhaps with a well-placed bullet, the pope considered further, Kimball will discover his deliverance for past sins and burn within the Eternal Lakes of Fire.

More so, it would also cull away the pontiff’s greatest enemy within the Vatican.

Silently, Pope Clement XV prayed for Kimball Hayden’s demise.

* * *

The Consortium Stronghold

Cochem, Germany

Mr. da Vinci watched as much as he could from the Consortium Stronghold in Cochem, Germany, by way of following GPS hardware built into their Kevlar helmets. The unit showed up as separate blips on the screen as glowing red orbs the size of pencil erasers, until a windstorm kicked up and deleted the signatures.

After pleading with his techs to bring up the signals, they could not. There was too much interference, the climate not cooperating.

Sighing through his nostrils in frustration, Mr. da Vinci realized that he was powerless in a world that subsisted and operated on the power of technology. Without it he was not only weak, he was also blind and rudderless.

The Consortium team, with the aid of a Vatican Knight and under the management of Mr. Spartan, remained on their own.

 

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

Once the Consortium unit reached the elevators, two things came to mind. One: leave a two-man team behind to cover the rear. And two: disable the elevators to cancel any means of transport for hostile elements. For them to move from one location to another, the Consortium team would have to rappel from level to level.

After bypassing the security scans and forcing the elevator doors open, the teams attached Semtex wads to the cables, applied the detonators, cleared the area, and discharged the plastique by setting the timers to countdown from five . . .

. . . to four . . .

. . . to three . . .

. . . to two . . .

Detonation!

There were the dual sounds of whump as the Semtex wads exploded. The cables snapped and both lifts descended as gravity took over and sent them to the bottom of the shaft. Then there were the sounds of the elevators impacting, the noise greater than the initial explosions that created their falls.

Ordering Misters Michelangelo and Archimedes to maintain position at the lobby level to cover their backsides, Misters Spartan, Galileo, Plato and Kimball Hayden summarily removed their rappelling lines from their rucksacks, engaged the clips to metal framing, and allowed the lines to fall into the shafts. The lines, however, were only forty feet in length.

Quickly, they kicked off the landing and began to descend, the operatives bouncing off the walls every few feet as they lowered themselves to the first set of doors. Mr. Donatello, who quickly set a Semtex charge against the panels, warned his teammates to take cover above the level. After setting the

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