God's Lions: The Secret Chapel (35 page)

“We’ve got to go, Ariella.”

Ariella closed the door and arched her eyebrows coyly. “Where?”

“We’re taking your father’s yacht to Italy.”

“Just you and me?”

“No, all of us. We’re taking the Devil’s Bible to the Vatican, and we really need to hurry.”

“Oh.” Disappointment etched her face. “That’s why you came to my room.”

John’s eyes widened. “What did that bump on the head do to you?”

Ariella laughed as she turned to retrieve a bag from her closet. “What bump? I feel fine.”

John shook his head and hefted the ever-present backpack containing the book over his shoulder. “I promise you that, when I get rid of this thing, we’ll never be apart again.”

Ariella flashed him a sensuous smile while grabbing some clothes from a pile on her bed and stuffing them into her bag. John opened the door and they both ran straight into Sarah in the hall. “I want to be on the team,” she said. “I know this is why I’m here now.”

Ariella looked at John and hesitated before answering. “Are you sure, Sarah? I mean, your dream pretty much confirms that you were meant to be here, but this is a big commitment. We’re getting ready to head back out into the Mediterranean, and there could be a repeat of what happened earlier today.”

“I’m sure, Ariella. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

“Ok then. Come with us. Welcome to the Bible Code Team.”

Down in the communications center, plans were being made for a hasty departure across the Mediterranean. Lev sat at a console, wearing a white dress shirt and khaki shorts. His tanned and calloused feet slipped in and out of his flip-flops as he talked to the ship’s captain on his cell phone. Alon had doubled the sentries around the perimeter and placed the villa on high alert for any suspicious activity. For security reasons, only those with a need to know were informed of the new mission now unfolding around them.

The yacht was located about twelve miles north of the villa in the ancient port of Caesarea. Moshe and Alon departed the grounds at 2:00
AM
in a small car, followed by Daniel and Sarah who caught a ride with several of the cooks in a large truck full of provisions. Nava and Gabriella had been notified and were now airborne in the Blackhawk en route to the villa.

Leo and Lev made some last-minute arrangements before jumping into Lev’s old Land Rover, while John and Ariella grabbed Camp and piled into the rear seat. John never let the backpack out of his sight, taking one more peek inside at the clear container holding the red book before giving Leo a thumbs up. Thirty minutes behind the other departing vehicles, the Land Rover rolled out onto the highway and began speeding up the coast toward Caesarea.

Lev was the first to see the headlights of a large white SUV turn onto the road behind them. It sped up and kept pace.

“That’s not one of ours, is it, Father?” Ariella said.

Lev looked into the rearview mirror. “No, it’s not. I’ll speed up a little and see what they do.”

The SUV matched the Land Rover’s speed as the two cars raced down the highway. The large vehicle inched closer, pulling to within a few feet of the Land Rover’s rear bumper.

“Whoever they are,” Lev said, “they don’t care about keeping a low profile.”

Lev lifted a military walkie-talkie from the front seat next to him and called Nava in the helicopter. “We have company.”

“How many?”

“Looks like only one vehicle for now. A big white SUV ... and they don’t seem to be worried about keeping a low profile.”

“Be there in three minutes.”

The occupants of the SUV hadn’t counted on the Bible Code Team having air support as the Blackhawk swooped out of the sky and fell in behind the tailing car.

Speeding down the highway, a man in the front passenger seat of the SUV pulled out a pistol and aimed it from his side window at the Land Rover ahead. He began firing, shattering the Rover’s rear window and causing everyone inside except for Lev to dive down in their seats.

From the rear seat of the SUV, a third man produced a light machine gun and leaned out of his window. He looked up and aimed the gun at the Blackhawk before making the fatal mistake of pulling the trigger, firing off a series of bursts at the helicopter overhead and sealing the fate of everyone inside his own vehicle.

Nava and Gabriella exchanged glances as they pulled up and circled around, coming back into position behind the SUV. Gabriella studied a computer-generated display through her helmet eyepiece and chose her weapon. “Got him in my sights.”

Nava held the chopper steady while simultaneously keeping an eye on the occupants inside. The man with the machine gun crawled into the back of the SUV and lowered the rear window before aiming straight up at the helicopter.

“Now would be a good time, Gabriella,” Nava said with a hint of sarcasm.

With the push of a button, a rocket erupted from a side pod on the helicopter and streaked toward its target. Within seconds, the SUV was a flaming, unrecognizable heap of wreckage on the side of the highway. The large gray helicopter sped by overhead as Nava and Gabriella high-fived each other in the cockpit.

John stared through the shattered glass of the Land Rover’s rear window at the flames receding in the distance. “Whoever they were, they definitely miscalculated you, Lev.”

Leo was growing weary of the intrigue. “My God, who are these people? Did the police ever get any information from the two you caught spying on us at the villa?”

“Nothing,” Lev said. “They refused to talk. The police could only charge them with trespassing and had them deported from the country.”

“Well, it looks like they still have friends around; only this time, they did a little more than trespass.”

The Land Rover pulled into the harbor in the early morning darkness. The lights from the yacht were ablaze, highlighting members of the crew who could be seen scurrying about the decks, making the boat ready for sea. The “small” yacht Lev had told them about earlier was actually a luxurious two-hundred-thirty-foot-long super yacht. The boat had a dark blue hull and white superstructure, and the main deck sat at least twenty feet above the water line. As soon as the Land Rover came to a stop, it was surrounded by crew members who helped Lev and the others carry all of their equipment up the gangplank to the yacht’s main deck.

The Blackhawk had arrived with the Land Rover and was circling the harbor, sweeping the docks with strong searchlights looking for anyone who didn’t belong. Satisfied the scene below was clear of intruders, the two women landed the helicopter at the end of the wharf, but kept the engines running.

While the turbines continued to whine, Nava climbed out of her armored seat in the cockpit and stepped out onto the dock. Her long black ponytail hung from the back of her helmet and swished back and forth as she walked over to speak with Alon. After a quick embrace and a few words, she waved in the direction of the helicopter and turned to board the yacht with Alon, leaving Gabriella to take control of the Blackhawk. Alone now, Gabriella lifted the chopper into the air, where she would remain overhead until the boat was safely out of the harbor.

Leo and Lev made their way up an interior stairway of the yacht to the darkened bridge. Only the red battle lighting and the greenish glow from the radar display highlighted the men’s faces as they conferred with the captain and scanned the periphery of the harbor. Besides the helicopter overhead, several of Moshe’s most experienced men, armed with sniper rifles and night-vision goggles, had been secretly placed in concealed positions around the harbor to avoid any surprises.

Leo poured himself a cup of coffee from a pot nearby and settled into a raised seat next to the captain’s chair. He took a sip from the steaming cup while brushing the long gray-streaked hair from his face and peering out on the reflections from the yacht’s lights on the water.

The priest’s hands were still shaking slightly from the encounter with the SUV on the highway. “I don’t like this newest development. Those were real people with real guns out there on the highway behind us, not supernatural beings. There is more to this than meets the eye. Not only are we threatened with invisible satanic forces, but we’re also forced to deal with what appears to be a very organized effort by some very mortal individuals who want to obtain the Devil’s Bible for their own reasons.”

Lev pulled on a dark blue windbreaker with the yacht’s logo embroidered on the front. “I don’t like it either. At least we can fight humans with conventional weapons, but the fact that someone knows what we have and wants to possess it at any cost is another factor we have to consider. I’m beginning to wonder if Jeb Carlton’s jet was brought down by supernatural forces or if it was sabotaged by the same people who came after us tonight.”

“I don’t think the plane was taken out by sabotage,” Leo said. “They would have risked losing the book in the crash. Why don’t we put Moshe to work on this and see what he can come up with? He has the kind of connections most security agencies can only dream about. If anyone can find out who the people chasing us are working for, he can.”

“He’s already on it,” Lev said. “He just talked to the Israeli police who are on the scene back on the highway going through the wreckage of that SUV. They’re looking to see who it belonged to and trying to ID the bodies inside. He’s also made some calls to Rome. Some friends of ours are already starting to scout around. I’m sorry to say this, Father, but Moshe doesn’t much trust the Vatican, especially since we found those two Swiss Guards spying on the villa.”

“I can’t blame him. I’m having some doubts myself.”

Lev winced when he told Leo that one of his men distrusted the Vatican. He admired this priest and considered him a part of his family, but he had also seen the passage in the Bible code that spoke of dark forces within the Church working against them.

The yacht’s captain was outside on the deck in front of the bridge, smoking and watching the activities of the crew on the deck below. His name was Alex Pappas, a Greek who carried himself with the pride of thousands of years of Greek sailors who had plied these waters before him. In his mid-thirties, he was considered young for a ship’s captain. His short black hair provided a stark contrast to his spotless white uniform, while his hazel eyes reflected the color of the sea he had lived on for almost his entire life. His father had been the captain of the yacht, Christina, the yacht that once belonged to Aristotle Onassis.

He flicked the remainder of his lit cigarette overboard and gave the order to release the lines connecting the yacht to the dock. The crew began drawing in the thick nylon rope and coiled it on the deck as Camp ran back and forth, barking at the dockhands on the concrete wharf below.

The captain entered the bridge and took his place at the controls. With the flick of a toggle switch on a hand controller, he increased the RPM of the engines and the bow and stern thrusters came to life, slowly pushing the large boat away from the dock. With the boat now moving toward the center of the harbor, the huge brass propellers under the stern began to spin, driving the massive blue and white yacht out of the marina.

Moving past the breakwater protecting the harbor, the captain kept the boat centered in the channel until they passed the end of the jetty and entered the Mediterranean Sea, where he ordered the helmsman to increase the speed, pushing the bow higher as it slipped through the waves into deeper water.

Only the lights from distant ships far out at sea punctuated the darkness before them as the boat headed west across the open ocean toward Europe and the Italian coast. No one onboard knew what awaited them in the current climate of world events, nor could they imagine what forces might already be at work to keep them from making their destination. Despite the fact that they were now moving away from land, everyone onboard remained on high alert for any hint of an attack against them or their boat.

Wearing only a thin black polo shirt and white shorts, Leo shivered in the chill from the wind as he descended the stairs from the bridge. He was making good on his promise to take every precaution and walked the entire length of the boat, blessing the decks with holy water and praying for their safe passage across the sea. Although he was surrounded by the best Israeli-trained security men and women in the world, he recognized that the fate of those onboard this ship remained in God’s hands, for only He knew what truly lay ahead for them all.

John and Ariella were standing side by side on the yacht’s rear deck, watching the lights from the shore recede. They marveled at the phosphorescent glow given off by the plankton stirred up in the ship’s wake. The moon was rising in the distance as the two lovers held each other tightly. They kissed unashamedly in full view of both Leo and Lev, who sat with Moshe at a table on the rear deck. John and Ariella felt they had nothing to hide now.

Leo had come to know John as a fine man who had honestly looked at the priesthood for his life’s vocation, but it had become obvious that God had called on him to marry and start a family with Ariella instead. The priest drank his coffee in silence. He enjoyed seeing how happy these two were in each other’s presence. There was no need to ask if John would be withdrawing his application from Jesuit seminary, when and if they returned to America.

The hiss of water passing along the hull provided a backdrop for what was so far turning out to be an uneventful cruise. Leo had volunteered to give John a break from watching over the backpack containing the book and kept it next to him on the teak wood deck below his chair. He eyed it with revulsion and wondered why the entities hadn’t shown themselves since they had left port. Leo felt a chill as he remembered the reddish smoke in the plane’s cabin just before the jet had crashed into the sea. Like any confrontation, the wait could sometimes be worse than the event itself.

The priest leaned back in his chair and stared up into the star-filled sky. The quiet isolation of the sea, along with the rhythmic hum of the motors as the yacht pushed through the open water, began to lull him into a mood of complacent introspection.