The Lucifer Code (42 page)

‘You’re talking about an invasion force.’

‘No. An invasion force comes to stay or to plunder. I just want to get our people out with as few casualties as possible.’
That sounds positively noble, doesn’t it?
Webster knew the president wouldn’t be able to resist the bait to out-grandstand him.

Outside, another series of explosions made the window shiver and rolled echoes through the building. Vicky wrapped her arms more tightly round herself and shivered, but she never stopped giving orders. Hamilton and Napier were also engaged on their sat-phones.

‘You know what I’m saying is right, Mike,’ Webster said gently, ‘and I know this is all scary.’ He basted his words with conviction. ‘We didn’t ask for the situation. If Prince Khalid hadn’t risen to power, we wouldn’t be here now. But he did, and he started this mess that’s currently threatening to swallow this country and has endangered our people.’

‘He has the army on his side. This engagement shouldn’t take long.’

‘That was said about Iraq. Both times.’

Behind the hotel, towards the heart of the city, more explosives ripped a naked skeleton of a building in progress to shreds. The steel girders collapsed and spilled into the street like a child’s game.

‘Look at the big picture over here,’ Webster said. ‘If we don’t step in, the Chinese will. They need the oil as badly as we do. In fact, if we don’t do something soon, they may view this as the perfect time to advance and grab a stranglehold. Once they’re in, Mike, you know they’re not going to be easy to dissuade. They have their own needs.’

The president sighed tiredly. ‘This is getting to be a bed of snakes, Elliott.’

‘It’s always been a bed of snakes. The snakes are just more prevalent at the moment.’

Vicky turned to Webster with a look of surprise. ‘There are unidentified aircraft flying into the oil fields. Do you know anything about that?’

Webster shook his head.

‘What was that?’ the president asked. ‘Something about aircraft?’

‘Do you have anyone out there?’ Webster asked Vicky.

The woman shook her head. ‘So far, Prince Khalid’s forces have managed to keep the fighting from reaching the oil fields. I didn’t think we needed anyone in the area. I’ve got a team en route that way now.’

‘Never mind,’ the president said. ‘Evidently World News Network has picked up the story.’

‘WNN already has someone there,’ Webster told Vicky.

‘I know. How do you think I’m getting my information?’

Webster pulled out his TV remote control handset and changed the channel to the WNN Channel. The ante had obviously just been increased. He wanted to see the results.

Passage of Omens

Hagia Sophia Underground

Istanbul, Turkey

24 March 2010

‘You’re refusing to admit defeat, Professor Lourds,’ Joachim said accusingly. ‘That passageway, if it was ever here, isn’t here now.’ His frustrated voice echoed along the hall.

A few of the monks continued checking the wall, as did Cleena and Olympia.

Lourds refused to be distracted. He took a bottle of water from his backpack and reviewed his mental notes regarding his translation. He’d got the directions right. This was the tunnel. He was certain of that. But where was the hidden door?

‘We need to try somewhere else,’ Joachim said.

‘No,’ Lourds said. ‘It’s here.’

‘Then where is it?’

‘Obviously, it’s hidden.’ Lourds put away the water bottle. ‘The scroll said the Passage of Omens wouldn’t be found until the time was right.’

‘Then maybe the time isn’t right?’ Olympia joined them. Perspiration gleamed on her skin.

‘That would be an easy answer for failure,’ Joachim said.

‘Don’t,’ Olympia told him. ‘We wouldn’t be this far if it weren’t for Thomas.’

‘We don’t know how far we are, do we?’ Joachim walked away to join the other monks and once more begin the assault on the wall.

‘For a monk, he doesn’t have a lot of faith, does he?’ Lourds asked.

Olympia sipped from a water bottle. ‘I can understand his frustration. Can you imagine having the kind of knowledge he’s had all these years and not being able to find the Joy Scroll?’

Lourds thought of the lost library of Alexandria and how he had spent the last twenty-something years chasing scraps of information, myths and rumours in an effort to locate whatever books might have survived that fire all those years ago.

‘Actually, I can imagine. And it
is
frustrating.’

Olympia looked down the passageway. ‘Is it possible that another tunnel was dug? That the one we’re actually looking for is on either side of us?’

‘We didn’t see another tunnel.’

‘That doesn’t mean there isn’t one. This area is honeycombed with tunnels. It’s worse than a rabbit’s warren.’

‘Reminds me a lot of London’s underground,’ Lourds admitted. ‘The underground beneath New York pales by comparison. At least the tunnels there are larger.’

‘That’s because they were made for subways and utility lines. These were only made for refugees.’

‘You would think it would be easier to find a hidden passageway in this restricted space.’ Fatigue ate at Lourds as he stared into the darkness.

‘There were no other clues about the location?’

Lourds shook his head. ‘The scroll said the location of the Passage of Omens wouldn’t be revealed until the time was right.’

‘And what time would that be?’

An ungracious smile pulled at Lourds’ mouth. ‘It’s amazing how oblique things like this scroll can be when it comes to the concrete details.’

‘Surely there was something.’

Lourds quoted. ‘Only a fearful and penitent man will find the doorway to the Passage of Omens. The righteous will never know the way.’’

‘That’s all it said?’

‘That’s all. Other than the directions of how to get here.’ A thought suddenly struck Lourds and he wondered why he had not realized it before. He strode forwards, back to his original location in the tunnel. ‘A fearful and penitent man. Not a righteous one.’

‘Thomas?’ Olympia trailed after him and her movement attracted the attention of everyone else in the passageway.

Lourds silently cursed himself. At the spot he had marked, he dropped to his knees and looked at the floor. Carefully, he used his free hand to brush away the accumulated debris that had gathered for hundreds of years. Gradually, the stones became clear. Without a word, Olympia and Joachim joined him in his endeavour. The cleared space grew larger and larger.

Joachim paused. ‘I’ve found something.’ He shone his light on one of the stones. ‘There’s writing here. I can’t read it.’

Lourds walked over and squatted down beside him. The writing was there, but it was almost illegible, almost worn away by the passage of feet and time. He took his water bottle from his backpack, unscrewed the cap and poured some water onto the engraved stone washing the inscription and making it easier to read, but the shadows were deceptive even after Lourds dried the area with a shirt sleeve.

Taking his journal from his backpack, Lourds laid a page over the inscription and made a rubbing. The result was even clearer. He held up the page and Joachim trained his flashlight on it.

‘You can read this?’ Joachim asked.

‘I can,’ Lourds replied. ‘It’s the same language that was in the scroll.’ He worked the translation in his head, then said it out loud. ‘Look to God for the answers that you seek.’

Joachim trained his beam on the ceiling. Spider webs obscured the roof over the passageway.

Lourds put his journal away and stood. He took his shirt off, stripping down to his undershirt, then he waved the shirt overhead and knocked the cobwebs away. On one of the stones overhead, Lourds barely made out the inscription, but he knew what it was.

The Passage of Omens.

CHAPTER

24

Passage of Omens

Hagia Sophia Underground

Istanbul, Turkey

24 March 2010

J
oachim and another of the monks held Lourds’ feet and boosted him towards the ceiling. He swayed drunkenly at first, then caught his balance and easily made the ascent. He braced himself with one hand against the ceiling while he inspected the inscribed stone with the other.

‘Perhaps you could hurry, Professor Lourds,’ the monk suggested.

‘Oh. Sorry.’ Lourds wanted to get a rubbing of the stone but that didn’t seem feasible at the moment. He turned his attention to finding a locking release mechanism. The entrance was defined by the small cracks around it. The doorway looked scarcely large enough for a grown man to crawl through. Joachim and the monk were straining in their efforts to hold Lourds when he found the release. Something clicked within the stone door. Lourds had thought the door would open outwards and had prepared himself for that eventuality. Instead, the door remained in place. Tentatively, he pushed against the door. It was heavy but swung back on hinges and crashed against the upper floor. The resounding boom echoed and let Lourds know the room beyond was fairly sizeable.

‘Come on down,’ Joachim said. ‘Let’s regroup and think about our next—’

Overcome by curiosity, Lourds tossed his flashlight through the opening and caught the edges in both hands. He flexed his knees and pushed against Joachim and the other monk, knocking them off balance and sending them toppling to the floor. Joachim protested, scrambling to his feet. Lourds barely even considered apologizing. He didn’t get enough spring from his jump to get him through the opening, but it brought him closer. He hoisted himself up, then through, and into the hidden passageway. Panting from the exertion, almost vibrating with excitement, Lourds picked up his flashlight and played the beam round the room. The passageway was narrow and ran between two short walls that held a succession of beautiful mosaics.

‘Lourds,’ Joachim bellowed from below, ‘come back.’

Lourds couldn’t have come back. His fascination was too complete. He saw images taken from the Old Testament. In one mosaic God created man, in another God cast an angel from heaven. A third showed an angel with a flaming sword driving Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden.

Another flashlight beam joined Lourds’ as he walked along the passageway. He barely took any notice of Joachim who was overcome by everything that he saw around him. Olympia came next, followed by Cleena, then the other monks. There was scarcely room for all of them within the passageway.

‘Oh my God,’ Olympia whispered. Her voice, trapped in the small enclosure, sounded loud. ‘These are beautiful.’

‘More than that,’ Lourds told her, ‘they’re history.’ He reached out and touched a mosaic depicting Noah’s ark surging across a storm-tossed sea.

‘These are from God’s holy Word,’ Joachim said. ‘Not just history.’

Lourds didn’t bother to argue the point. He was consumed by what he saw.

‘You could spend years studying everything in this passageway,’ Olympia said. ‘The subject matter. The artists involved. The media and techniques used.’

‘Not exactly what we’re here for,’ Cleena said. She didn’t seem to be awed by the history surrounding her.

‘She’s right,’ Joachim said. ‘Where’s the Joy Scroll?’

Lourds pressed on. ‘The scroll didn’t mention the actual location, but it did say the answers were here.’

The tunnel ended only a short distance ahead. Lourds shone his light over the small room and saw more mosaics on the walls.

‘There are candles.’ Olympia picked out the iron sconces on either side of the entrance with her flashlight beam.

Forcibly, Lourds tore his attention from the mosaics on the other side of the room and pulled out his lighter. The conditions inside the passage had remained relatively constant for the hundreds and possibly thousands of years the candles had sat in the sconces. For a moment, as Lourds held the flame to a wick, he didn’t think it would light. Then slowly, the twisted fibres accepted the flames and swelled into a golden nimbus that chased darkness from the room. Olympia lit the candle on the other side of the entranceway. Joachim and the monks entered the room and lit still more candles. When they were finished, the mosaics gleamed on the wall and the scent of burning animal fat tickled Lourds’ nostrils.

The four mosaics showed different images but were framed with similar white borders that stood out starkly against the stone walls. The first mosaic showed a cistern where an upside down Medusa head was submerged in blue water.

‘That’s the Basilica Cistern,’ Olympia said.

Lourds nodded in agreement. With the Medusa head in the mosaic, it could be no other place. An inscription, done in tiny bright stones, threaded through the bottom of the mosaic.

‘What does it say?’ Joachim asked.

‘ “ When the monster’s head rights itself, you will see the first sign of the approaching apocalypse. Only the Joy Scroll may prevent the Great Deceiver’s lies. Your journey begins here.” ’

Lourds opened his backpack and took out his digital camera. He quickly took several images of the mosaics in turn. He also wrote the information down in his journal. Then he moved on to the second mosaic which showed a picture of a church with a domed top. Inside the building, the unmistakable figure of Jesus, his head surrounded by a halo, lay at rest.

‘What place is that?’ Cleena asked.

‘Golgotha,’ Lourds answered.

‘Where Jesus was crucified and laid to rest,’ Joachim explained. ‘It’s in Jerusalem’s Old City.’

‘It’s also where the True Cross was kept for a time,’ Olympia added. ‘Constantine’s mother, Helena, ordered the Bishop of Jerusalem to build the church there. As soon as it was built, Christian pilgrimages to it began. Unfortunately the church was a centre of unrest for a long time. The fragments of the True Cross were lost to Muslim invaders at the end of the tenth century. Tariq al-Hakim, one of the caliphs, destroyed the church all the way down to the bedrock as a protest against Easter pilgrimages.’

‘The downside of tourism,’ Lourds commented. ‘Al-Hakim’s son Ali az-Zahir agreed to let Constantine the Eighth rebuild the church, but it wasn’t until the arrival of the Crusaders that the church was once more made whole. Since that time, it’s been damaged on a number of occasions.’