God's Lions - The Dark Ruin (26 page)

As Childs was making his way up the stairs past the people huddled in the stairwell, the emergency lights flickered on, allowing everyone to see who had made it out alive and who had not. Lev Wasserman had been the last man to make it behind the concrete wall, but behind him six bodies could be seen smoldering in the tangled mass of twisted metal and wires that hung down from the ceiling.

Besides the bomber and the two security men, they could see the top half of Clyde Richards’ hulking figure extending from under a bent portion of the metal table, while the bodies of Carl Smith and Daaruk Khadri lay bleeding against the far wall.

Lev turned his head away and coughed in the thickening smoke. “We can’t stay in this stairwell any longer. It’s starting to draw all the smoke upward like a chimney!”

Moving quickly, the remaining survivors made their way to the top of the stairs and stumbled into the reception room just as a group of soldiers with fire extinguishers rushed down into the smoke-filled stairwell. In the hallway outside, a team of British Special Forces soldiers had just arrived, their eyes wide with the adrenaline rush of suddenly being thrust into a defensive combat posture.

“How in the world did someone manage to sneak a bomb inside a secure facility like this?” Lev wheezed.

“Had to be an inside job,” Alon said, “which means there might be others. We need to get out of here.”

“I agree,” Childs said, wincing as he held his injured arm. “Follow me.”

“Why don’t you let me take a look at that arm first?” Ariella asked.

Childs held back but Ariella persisted. “Come on, I was a medic in the Israeli Army, and I don’t want the man who just saved our lives dying from loss of blood.”

OK ... just a quick look, Miss. Then we really need to go.”

Childs winced again as she slowly turned his arm. Something had obviously pierced the bicep just above the elbow and had exited the other side.

“Well, whatever hit you is no longer there, but we need to stop the flow of blood.” Spotting a soldier with a first aid kit, Ariella motioned him over and grabbed a gauze bandage that she used to stem the flow of blood from Childs wound. “There, that should hold you until your little train can get us out of here.”

“I’m afraid the train’s out of commission, Miss,” the soldier behind her said. “Someone blew the engine and the tracks, and ...

“And what?”

“They shot the two Israeli security men outside the door.”

Like a raging bull, Alon burst through the doors and stared down at the lifeless forms of the two Israelis. “Did any of your men see anything?”

“They’re looking at all the cameras now, sir,” the soldier replied. “Best to stay put until we know who we’re looking for. The dogs are sniffing for more explosives.”

Alon ran back inside the reception room and motioned to the group. “This looks like a coordinated attack. We have to go ... now!”

Suddenly, the walls around them shook as a second explosion rocked the tunnel outside.

“Is there another way out of here besides the main tunnel?” Zamir shouted.

“Yes, sir,” Childs said. “There’s a small ventilation and maintenance tunnel off to the side of the platform outside, but it’s filled with pipes and wires ... it’s pretty tight.”

“OK. I’m staying here to coordinate things with the British military, but you and Alon have to get these other people out of here right now. I’ll ask the British commander to send a couple of his best soldiers with you. Where does that tunnel lead?”

“Saint Michael’s Cave ... right below us. It ends about 300 meters above the sea. There’s a machine room before you reach the large cavern they call the cathedral room. From there we can make our way out through the main entrance.”

Everyone saw the look of determination spreading across Pope Michael’s face. “Saint Michael’s Cave ... sounds perfect. Let’s go.”

At the palace in Babylon, Adrian Acerbi paced the marble floors in his room before sitting down in front of his computer. He had spent the last two days thinking of ways to escape his guards, but so far all of his attempts to leave the palace had been thwarted by the overwhelming security presence.

The sound of keys rattling in his door startled him, and as he spun in his chair, two security men entered without knocking and stood aside as his mother swooped into the room with an angry expression on her face. Ever since their trip to Turkey, she had become distant to the point of outward hostility, and as she approached his desk, Adrian turned away, refusing to acknowledge her presence.

“Adrian, my dear, they tell me you haven’t touched a bite of food since yesterday. Come, you must eat.”

“I’ll eat when you stop treating me like a prisoner and let me go see my father!”

“Please, Adrian ... be reasonable.” Colette threw up her hands. “I want to see your father as much as you do, but he has forbidden it. These attempts of yours to slip past your guards are absurd. Everything we do is for your own good. We simply can’t have you traipsing all over Iraq looking for ways to travel to Paris all by yourself. Anyway, we’ve received word that your father has checked himself out of the hospital and no one’s heard from him since.”

“Checked himself out of the hospital? Where is he?”

“Obviously you weren’t listening. I said no one’s heard from him since. I have no idea where he is. Apparently he left the hospital against doctor’s orders. No one even saw him leave.”

“Then he must be doing better. Why hasn’t he called?”

“I don’t know, my son. Your father is a complicated man ... he’s disappeared before in the past, you know.”

“But he would never leave us ... I know it!”

“I’m sure there’s some logical explanation, Adrian, but you can’t spend your days wasting away in your room. I have a surprise for you. We’re taking a trip.”

“A trip? To France?”

“No, my dear. To Turkey.”

Adrian’s expression collapsed. “You mean back to those old ruins?”

“Yes. There’s something there I want you to see.”

“But why not go to Paris instead? Once we’re there father is sure to contact us, and ... Adrian jumped back when he saw his mother’s body suddenly blur in a hazy jumble of undefined edges. It was like looking at a television image that had suddenly frozen before restarting again at a different scene. Rubbing his eyes, he tried to pretend he hadn’t seen it as he looked closer.

Suddenly her image blurred again, but this time there was something there—something else inside the undefined outline—and it wasn’t his mother. The image wavered back and forth as if it were unsure of what world it existed in or what form it should take, and for a split second Adrian thought he could see a monstrous, twisted face contorted with rage, until finally the fleeting image once again stabilized into the more comforting reflection of the thing that had once been his mother.

Adrian recoiled in horror. “I’m not going anywhere with you. I don’t know what you are, but you’re not my mother!”

Colette turned to the two guards. “Take him. Tie him up if you have to, but I want him out front and inside my car in ten minutes. We’re going to the airport in Bagdad.”

Evita Vargas sized up the man sitting across the small table from her as the waiter brought coffee. “So, you teach medieval history at Cambridge, Professor Wehling. Sounds interesting.”

“Actually, the correct term is medieval
European
history, Dr. Vargas. My interest lies mainly in the history of Europe.”

“Well, since it’s obvious I’m no historian, how can I help you?” Evita’s nose crinkled when she inhaled the aroma from her coffee. “I mean, since you already seem to know so much about me, then you’re probably aware that I’m an epidemiologist. Are you doing research looking for some new clue to explain the plague that ravaged this part of the world in the 14
^th
century?”

Wehling peered over the rim of his cup before setting it down on the table. “Do you believe in God, Ms. Vargas?”

Evita’s smile evaporated. “Just what is it you’re really after, Professor Wehling?”

“I’m after you, Evita. Do you mind if I call you Evita?”

This guy is a stalker
! Evita looked down at the pistol lying in her open purse. “You’re old enough to be my grandfather, Professor Wehling ... if that is your real name, and I already have a boyfriend. Thank you for the coffee. Now, I really must be going ...

“Back to work? We both know who you really work for, Ms. Vargas, and I can assure you my interest in you is not romantic. Besides, anyone who pays attention to current affairs is aware that you are presently involved with Cardinal Leopold Amodeo, the Vatican’s Secretary of State, who, by the way, just happens to be missing ... yet for some reason you don’t seem overly concerned.”

“Alright, Professor. I’ve had just about enough of this game you’re playing, and frankly I don’t appreciate your intrusive manner.”

“I can assure you that this is no game, my dear. I’ve come here on a matter or great urgency that concerns not only you personally, but has implications for our faith as well.”

Evita paused as she studied the serene features on the face of the distinguished-looking gentleman seated across from her. “Are you trying to tell me that you’re a Cathar, Professor?”

“Actually, my dear, I happen to be one of the twelve Perfecti.”

“A Perfecti!” Evita’s coffee began spilling over the rim of her cup. “I’m sorry, but that’s impossible. A man of your obvious intelligence should know that the identities of the Perfecti are a closely guarded secret. The leaders of our faith would never reveal their true identities to anyone, for that would break the solemn bond of trust that exists within the circle of leadership.”

Wehling noticed Evita’s eyes darting toward the door. “Before you go rushing off, please allow me to finish. Right now your cardinal is involved in the battle of his life, as are the other members of the Bible Code Team. The Dark Star has risen and the Antichrist is alive and living in the world of men ... although the boy himself is not yet aware of who he really is.”

Evita could feel her heart racing as she thought back to the night she had told Leo she needed a break when he had probably needed her the most.
He must have discovered something after she left, but why hadn’t he called?
“I’m sorry, Professor Wehling, but as you pointed out earlier, I haven’t spoken to Cardinal Amodeo for some time now.”

“I understand your reluctance to discuss this matter with me, Dr. Vargas, but I must tell you that the time for the boy’s transition is fast approaching, and your cardinal has stumbled upon the location where this transition is going to take place. His first instinct of course will be to try to stop it, but he will fail, for no power on Earth will be able to stop what is coming, which brings me to the point of my visit. I’ve come to warn you and all of the other Cathars under my wing that the time has come for us to flee to safety once again.”

“Flee? Flee from what? If you’re referring to the passages we’ve uncovered in the code, then you must know that we’re still not sure what any of these things mean yet. I hardly think it’s time to run for the hills.”

“Really, Ms. Vargas? Have you not already seen the power of the code to warn us of what is to come?”

“Yes, of course, but ...

“Why did you really leave Turkey? Was it just your relationship with the cardinal, or was there something else ... something you felt tugging at you when you were still in Turkey?”

“That’s none of your business. I’m sorry, Professor, but frankly all of this sounds a little delusional to me. This isn’t the 13
^th
century anymore.”

“No, you’re quite right ... it’s much worse. Those who have come to prepare the way for the Antichrist’s rise to power are now on the move, and soon they will begin striking down all who believe in the spirit of light to pave the way for his rise to power.”

“Strike down! Are you trying to tell me that there’s some massive plot to rid the world of Cathars once again? Is that why you’re here?”

Wehling glanced around the café. “Please, Ms. Vargas ... I must caution you to lower your voice. Those loyal to the Antichrist are ruled by dark forces ... demonic forces ... and they are everywhere. The same forces that were aligned against us seven hundred years ago are gathering once again, and their avowed goal is to eliminate all those who believe in the spirit of pure light. How well do you know your own Cathar history?”

Memories from Evita’s childhood began to flood her mind. “Mostly what my grandmother taught me as a child when she would read to me from the sacred scrolls at bedtime. The rest I’ve gathered over the years through contact with other members of our faith. But what’s our Cathar history got to do with any of this?”

“It has everything to do with it, my dear. Do you know where our people originally came from?”

“No one does. It’s one of the mysteries of our faith.”

“Well, I’m about to clear that up for you. We came from the Fertile Crescent ... from that area of the world in which the belief in a single god of love originated. For thousands of years we worshiped Him openly until the forces of darkness and paganism forced us from the land. We migrated westward across Europe, until eventually we settled in southern France and parts of Germany and Spain where we lived in relative peace until the 13th century when the forces of darkness once again sought us out.”

“Are you talking about the Crusades against the Cathars led by the Catholic Church?”

“Yes, but as you know evil comes cloaked in many forms, and in the case of the Church, evil came wrapped in the robes of righteousness. The legacy of Christ and Saint Peter was taken hostage and perverted by a few evil men who used the Church as a means to enrich themselves while living lives of debauchery. As a professor of history I can tell you that history always repeats itself, for the human capacity to remember our past is imprisoned behind a wall of ignorance. We are now about to experience another crusade against our faith ... one that I fear will be even worse than the first.”

“But Pope Michael and Cardinal Leo would never allow that to happen. If Adrian is this Antichrist, they’ll expose him to the world for what he is.”