James Acton 04 - The Templar's Relic (23 page)

Dawson motioned for Atlas and Stucco to get to work. Reading grabbed his arm, and lowered his voice.

“Listen, there’s something you need to know about where you’re going.”

“What?”

“You’ll see things in there that you’ll want to look at, that you’ll want to question. But you mustn’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“This is a top secret archive that only a handful of people alive on the planet today know about. If word got out, it could devastate the church. You must swear to never talk to anybody about anything you see in there.”

Dawson didn’t like it, but nodded. “Fine.”
What the hell could be stored in this archive that was so secret?

With only the second swing of a large mallet that had been left by the construction crew, Atlas was through the new wall. Niner walked over and peaked through, then looked at Atlas. “Why didn’t you just run through it like in Somalia?”

Dawson chuckled at the memory of Atlas making an escape route by throwing himself against the mud walls of a room they had been cornered in during a hostage rescue. It had saved their hides, and had been fuel for dozens of jokes since.

Dawson stepped through the opening, then turned back to his men. “Anything you see in the next few minutes is top secret, never to be discussed, not amongst yourselves, your God, or your woman. Understood?”

“Yes, Sergeant!”

Dawson stepped into the darkness, flicking on his flashlight.

Just what the hell are we about to get into?

Outside the Southern Colonnade

Saint Peter’s Basilica, Rome, Italy

DC Vitale rolled to the right and felt pieces of pavement, torn apart by the shots from above, rain upon his bullet proof vest. A volley of gun fire erupted from around him as he rolled onto his back, looking up at his would-be killer. But instead of a muzzle flash greeting him, he instead saw dozens of muzzle flashes from around him, at his level, aimed upward at the two gunmen, his fellow officers having regrouped enough to counterattack.

Both men were hit, and collapsed off the colonnade, and onto the road below. The officers rushed forward and grabbed the weapons before they could fall back into the hands of those pushing at the wall of reinforced polycarbonate. Someone stepped over and extended him a hand. Vitale grabbed it and was back on his feet.

“You okay, sir?”

Vitale nodded, rotating his shoulder. “Caught me in the vest.”

“First time?”

Vitale shook his head. “I’ve been shot once, before vests were standard issue.”

The officer smiled. “Hurts a lot less with the vest, I suppose?”

Vitale winced as he shrugged his shoulders. “I’ll have to get back to you on that one.” He pointed at the water cannon. “Get our comrade down from there, then put someone else on the cannon. We need that operational.”

The man nodded and grabbed two other officers who climbed the vehicle. Vitale watched for a moment as the body was lowered, then surveyed the situation. The rioters had been forced down the southern bend, and once the water cannon was operational again, the crowds inside the southern colonnade shouldn’t be a problem. He pointed to the roof of the colonnade as a group of armed officers rushed up. “Keep an eye up there for additional gunmen. Spread out and hold this area. Shoot anything that carries a firearm.”

The commander of the unit nodded, and immediately ordered his men into position as Vitale turned the corner to follow the main body of the rioters. “Status?” he asked, raising his radio.

“Northern operation almost complete, barricades for the front gates and northern colonnade moving in now. Southern operation proceeding well now, the main mass has just been split into three. We’ll begin moving in the southern colonnade barricades as soon as the main entrance is complete, over.”

“Okay, let me know as soon as the barricades are in place, over and out.”

Vitale jogged toward Piazza del Sant’Uffizio, where the split of the rioters was to have taken place, and arrived to find the square almost empty. As he looked in each direction, he could see the three groups pursuing their targets, and no signs of trouble, two of the groups still followed by water cannon that no longer appeared to be needed, their cannon silent.

He eyed a nearby concrete traffic barrier, and sat on it, resting for a moment. His eyes felt heavy, and closed for a moment as he said a silent prayer to Jesus, thanking him for a successful operation.

He opened his eyes, looking north at the southern colonnade of Saint Peter’s Square, and sighed.

Ten thousand down, thirty thousand to go.

The Vault, Vatican City

“What the
fawk
is that?”

It was Niner. Reading grimaced. “Try not to look. Just keep moving forward.”

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me? I think I just saw ET!”

Atlas’ deep voice boomed out across the massive complex, lost in the dark spoiled only by the narrow beams of their flashlights. “This is some freaky shit.”

“BD, when we get outta here, I gotta take up praying.”

Reading looked to where a flashlight bounced off a jar to his right and shuddered.
I’m definitely hitting a church when I get back to London.

“What the hell?”

“Keep moving forward, keep your flashlights on the floor,” ordered Dawson.

The flashlights immediately obeyed, and the comments stopped for a few moments.

“My God!” exclaimed Niner.

“Stow it, Sergeant,” growled Dawson.

“Yes, Sergeant.”

Reading pressed on a little faster.
It didn’t seem this long last time.
But when he thought back on it, he was in a full tilt race, running on adrenaline, trying to save his friends. This time, there was no need to rush, except for the overly curious team of soldiers behind him.

He saw the beam of his flashlight reflect back off of stonework. He slowed down and ran the light across the wall, and soon found the opening to the stairs.

“Up the stairs gentlemen, then down a corridor, and we’ll be at the exit and out of the rabbit hole.”

“Niner, you take point.”

“Roger,” said Niner as he took the first step, his Glock in one hand, flashlight clasped tightly against it with the other. The rest of the team let him get ahead about ten steps then began to file in after him, leaving a similar gap.

Reading counted the flashlights then looked over at Dawson. “Why only eight?”

“Special assignment.” Dawson flicked his flashlight. “You two go, I’ll take up the rear.”

Reading mounted the first step, and began to climb, Chaney close behind. The sound of so many boots echoing through the tight stairwell was almost claustrophobic. His heart began to beat faster, and his chest felt tight.
What the devil is happening? I never get claustrophobic.
But here he was. He focused his flashlight on the back of the man in front of him, who he believed to be Stucco, and stared at the bright patch as he tried to steady his breathing.

“You okay, gov?”

It was Chaney. “Yeah, just a little claustrophobic for some reason.”

“You? Never thought you had that problem. Me, on the other hand. I’m ’bout ready to climb these bloody walls.”

Reading chuckled. “We’re almost there, just keep it together a few more minutes and we’ll both be fine.”

In fact, he was already feeling better. Just knowing he wasn’t alone in his travails made him feel a little more at ease.

“I’ve reached the top,” announced Niner from above. Several sighs of relief echoed through the narrow confines, including from Reading. Another few twists of the spiral staircase and Reading too emerged to find the group spread out along the hall, with Niner at the end.

Reading and Dawson worked their way forward.

“What’s on the other side,” whispered Dawson.

“It should be an empty room.”

“Okay, how do we open it?”

Reading paused, suddenly realizing that he had never gone through the wardrobe from this side before. And if he had, it would have been opened on the other side.

Dawson shone his flashlight at his own face. “You don’t know?”

Reading returned the favor. “No, I’ve never come from this direction.” He pointed at the wall. “On the other side is a wardrobe—”

“A what?”

“A wardrobe. Umm, big piece of furniture that acts like a closet, I think you Yanks call it.”

“Continue.”

“You climb inside, close the door, then push the clothes hook second from the left up, and it unlocks this hidden door.”

“There must be a latch on this side,” said Dawson, playing his flashlight along the wall.

“This is where Acton would come in handy,” muttered Niner.

“Call him.” It was Atlas.

“Huh?”

Stucco.

“Call him and ask what we should be looking for.”

“Ignoring the fact that we probably can’t get a signal in here, I’ve seen enough Indiana Jones movies to know we’re looking for a lever to pull, or a stone to push,” said Stucco. “Like that one.” He pointed with his flashlight at a stone that was sticking out.

Dawson looked at Reading. “What do you think?”

“Well, as someone who has watched all four Indiana Jones movies on multiple occasions, including the fourth one with a new appreciation”—several chuckles broke out—“I would like to point out that while that stone may very well unlock the door, it may also cause the floor to fall out, the ceiling to begin to collapse, or a giant ball to come rolling down to crush us.”

Dawson leaned forward and pushed the rock.

“Wait!” yelped Reading, but it was too late. The rock receded into the wall, and there was a clicking sound. The wall with the hidden door moved out slightly. Reading grabbed the now visible edge with his fingers, and pulled. The door swung open easily, revealing the inside of the wardrobe.

Dawson stepped in and pushed on the outer door.

“You have to close the secret door before you can open the outer,” explained Reading.

“Lovely.” Dawson looked around. “Okay, Jimmy, in here. Reading, you too since you know how to operate it.” Jimmy climbed in, and Reading followed, pulling the door shut behind him. If he had felt claustrophobic before, this took the cake. Luckily the three flashlights had plenty to reflect off of. Dawson pushed on the outer door, and it swung open. He and Jimmy quickly exited, clearing the room.

Dawson stepped back in front of the door. “Okay, Agent, two at a time.” He closed the door. Reading quickly shoved the hook up and the door clicked open. He pushed.

“Next two.”

Chaney stepped in along with Niner. They pulled the door shut, then opened the outer door. The process was repeated for the rest of the team until at last Reading popped out after sharing the confines with Atlas. He sat on the lone bed, catching his breath, pointing at the wardrobe. “If we need to get out this way, go inside, close the door, push the second hook from the left up, then push the back after you hear the click.”

He stood up, taking a deep breath.

Niner patted him on the back. “Thanks for the four-one-one, agent, but there’s no effin’ way I’m goin’ back down there.”

Chuckles filled the room, but they sounded almost as if they were chuckles of agreement to Reading.

“Now where?” It was Dawson.

“We’re at the end of a hallway. If I remember correctly, we should be able to just walk down the hall, then hang a right. At the end of that is a stairwell that will take us to the main entrance.”

“This is the Apostolic Palace, correct?”

Reading nodded. “Yes.”

“Okay, once we get to the stairwell, I’ll know exactly where we are.” Dawson flicked the light switch, and everyone turned their flashlights off, sending the room into darkness. The door opened, and a sliver of light appeared that quickly widened as Dawson peered outside. “All clear. By two’s, Red, you take point.”

Red and Atlas took the lead, then Jimmy and Niner. Reading and Chaney followed, with Stucco and Casey, then Dawson and Spock bringing up the rear. At each branch in the hall, the team of two in the lead would check for hostiles, then the next two would take point. Reading began to wonder if he and Chaney were expected to take point, and prepared himself to do so when Jimmy and Niner took up position at the stairwell. Stucco and Casey slipped by, and Reading followed, with Chaney. Soon they were all slowly making their way down the spiral staircase.

Two muffled shots from below had them stop, the silenced weapons now carried by the team no longer non-lethal. Stucco waved everyone forward as he and Casey continued down the stairs. Two more muffled shots, then Stucco and Casey took up position at the foot of the stairs. Dawson and Spock rushed past Reading and Chaney, and turned right, toward what Reading remembered to be the rear exit. More muffled shots, including someone crying out, their call of warning cut short with a thudding sound, as if hit with a pillow.

Niner and Jimmy moved past Reading and Chaney, setting themselves up across the hall, their weapons aimed at the front entrance. Stucco urged the rest on, and within minutes they were all at the battle scarred rear entrance. Broken glass littered the marble floor, the large tiles that had stood for probably hundreds of years, torn to pieces from gunfire. Bodies lay about, including some of the defenders, but mostly the attackers.

Dawson led the team out the rear entrance, and they quickly tracked West toward a line of heavy trees.

If we can just reach those trees with no one seeing us.

Gunfire sprayed the grass in front of them as they all hit the ground.

I spoke too soon.

Ford Street

Dearborn, Michigan

“Lights! Lights! Lights!” whispered Lieutenant Jeffrey McKay. The driver leaned forward, killing the headlights, then McKay motioned for him to stop. “Lookey what we have here,” he said, leaning forward. A few hundred feet away there was a line of hostiles firing steadily toward the mosque, hitting both sets of squad cars on either side of the building, and a mix of cars, most likely belonging to the original gangbangers. A line of vehicles, empty, sat behind the new arrivals. McKay ran a plate.