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will and conviction, Mr. Galileo, with a hand to the wound to stem the flow, gained his feet and stumbled his way to the remote. After falling and then returning to his feet, as his vision continued to darken and close in, he saw the remote. It was highlighted by his growing tunnel-vision, an item of great importance that was situated dead center of his sight.

Grabbing the unit with a hand that was terribly greased with blood, Mr. Galileo toggled the switch that started the countdown. Then with a smile of accomplishment, Mr. Galileo, after alerting the others that the timers were enabled through his lip mic, fell forward and died with the satisfaction that he did all he could to see the mission through.

. . . 19:59 . . .

. . . 19:58 . . .

. . . 19:57 . . .

* * *

After Mr. Galileo alerted the unit, everyone had set the timers of their watches to reunite with the countdown sequence of the charges.

. . . 19:54 . . .

. . . 19:53 . . .

. . . 19:52 . . .

 

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

The moment the security forces from the cable-car landed on the Deep Mountain platform and advanced on the stronghold, Misters Archimedes and Michelangelo were ready to maintain the front.

The security team entered through the openings of shattered glass and spread themselves out with their weapons moving in the search for targets. These were skilled practitioners who maneuvered with meticulous training. But as they approached the bank of elevators, the Consortium team was waiting.

Misters Archimedes and Michelangelo opened fire. Rounds from the MP7s struck thighs and shinbones, areas not protected by Kevlar, with the wounds opening and paring back like the blooms of rose petals and brought the team down.

Misters Archimedes and Michelangelo moved forward with the points of their weapons leading the way, then directed them on the security force. No one had been killed, only wounded. Once the weapons had been kicked out of the reach of the security force, the Consortium team maintained their positions and continued to hold the fortress.

 

CHAPTER SIXTY

Elias Caspari was the only one in the entire facility with a backup power source. The moment the nerve center was destroyed by the Semtex blast, all communication was lost which included visual and audio. A secondary source, however, provided him with the video portion of what was going on inside of Deep Mountain, though the quality was weak.

Through a screen filled with images obscured with white snow, he was able to witness the skirmishes within. He had seen the Consortium manhandle Salt’s elite forces with undeniable skillsets and fighting techniques. But he also noted the downing of the enemy as well, such as the killings of Misters Donatello and Galileo.

Then as the advantage started to shift in favor of the Consortium, Caspari realized that the best thing for him to do was to vacate Deep Mountain. The problem, however, was that his only means of escape was obstructed by members of the attacking team, who had control of the lobby.

Donning a communication headgear, Elias Caspari empowered the system and switched to a different set of visual monitors. On the center grid in black and white, Salt was holding a man at gunpoint inside the Vault. On the intruder’s person was Aaron’s rod.

Then into his lip mic, Caspari said, “Finish this up, Salt . . . We need to get out of here.”

Ripping off the headset in frustration and tossing it on the desktop, Elias Caspari believed that Salt would regain possession of Aaron’s rod and the crucible. And since Salt was unique in ways other soldiers wished they could be, he knew that Salt would get them to the Pacific stronghold where they would reestablish a workshop for discovery. What was going on inside Deep Mountain was a setback, something to learn from. And from this lesson he would establish better protocols for combat engagement and security measures.

While watching Deep Mountain being gutted from the inside out, Elias Caspari, who was both confident and ill at ease, watched and waited for the outcome between Salt and Kimball Hayden.

 

CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

The mouth of the gun’s barrel appeared as large as the opening of a cannon, at least that was the way Kimball Hayden saw it.

Then from Salt: “You try to take what you can’t have.”

“What I have belongs to the Vatican.”

That was when Salt noticed the band of the cleric’s collar and the uniform that was pious in dress from the waist up and military from the waist down, including the combat boots. On his shirt pocket was an insignia denoting his military unit, which was a pair of heraldic lions standing on their hind legs with their forepaws holding a shield steady. Inside this shield was the symbol of the silver Pattée cross.

Salt’s eyes flashed as if seeing a unicorn. He had heard of the Vatican Knights but had never seen one. To him, they were lore. And then: “A Vatican Knight,” he said almost dreamily. “As much as you may believe that the staff belongs to the church, it belongs to me. Now hand it over.”

Kimball, after placing the staff on the floor, recalled the moment when he learned of Salt’s background as a Christian terrorist. “Are you a man of religion?” he asked him.

“I have my faith,” Salt answered blandly.

Hayden pointed to Aaron’s rod. “That staff predates Christ and has been held by the hands of Moses.”

Salt’s eyes gravitated to the rod only to discover that the head was covered by a rubber sleeve. “And the power granted by the Hand of Providence will be used wisely” Salt returned. “Once I become its custodian.”

“It’s custodian?” Kimball Hayden appeared incensed by Salt’s statement. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with here, this power of Creation. For all you know, you might be ushering in the Apocalypse.”

“What we will usher in is a new age of Enlightenment and Reform.”

Kimball Hayden did not see madness in this man’s eyes.

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