The Hand of Christ (58 page)

Chapter Sixty-Three

Near Saxon Mountain

Colorado

The sound of approaching tires rolling on the gravel driveway broke Sonia’s attention from the news. Dr. Sterling Sr. stood and walked to the window; he peeked outside through a slight separation in the blinds, and announced, “It’s the Clear Creek Sheriff; he has a deputy with him.”

He reached for the handle of the front door that was next to the window.

He was about to turn it.

Sonia stood, “Dad, get away from the door.” Her voice was clear, level, and in control. She had been through this once already.

Dr. Sterling Sr. released the handle and looked at his daughter-in-law with confused eyes.

Sonia commanded, “Get into the basement.”

She offered no explanation; but her voice carried an authority that told him he should listen.

If I know my husband, and I am pretty sure that I know him, he has a way out of here,
thought Sonia.

There was a knock on the door. The Sheriff called out, "Dr. Sterling, it's the Sheriff. I am here with my deputy."

Sonia didn't answer. She ran to the basement following the elder Sterling. At the base of the stairs, she pushed past the confused man. Stepping aside, he watched as Sonia frantically moved old boxes aside.

“
Sonia, what are you doing?”

“
Dad, come over here and help! Move these boxes away from the wall!”

Without question, Dr. Sterling, Sr. did as he was told. The look in Sonia’s eyes told him to obey. Soon, an old, small door emerged. Michael had told her that the old door had gone unused for a couple of generations and that the chute had been filled in; now, she wasn’t so sure.

Out loud, Sonia muttered, “Michael, I hope you lied about this, too.”

Sonia turned the handle; nothing happened. Looking frantically around, she soon found what she needed: a flat-head screwdriver was on a nearby shelf.

“
Dad, give me that screwdriver,” she commanded.

“
Here you go; what are you doing, Sonia?” asked a confused Dr. Sterling, Sr.

“
Getting us out of here.” Sonia’s response was to the point.

Outside, the Sheriff looked around and saw no one; then he looked at his watch. It was time.

Speaking to his deputy, he said, "She must have run to the store. Go to the squad car and grab my coffee. We're gonna wait here on the porch until the good doctor returns."

The Deputy nodded and turned toward the car. His back was to the Sheriff. He hadn't noticed that his boss's hand had been on the butt of his pistol, and that he quietly unsnapped the latch that secured it in its holster. He certainly didn't see him slowly pull the pistol from where it rested. The moment the Deputy's boot left the last step of the porch and touched down on the dirt, the Sheriff pulled the trigger.

The sound of the bullet pierced the thick wood line.

No one would hear it, no one except for the people still in the cabin, perhaps a deer or two.

The sound of the gunshot startled them. Sonia jumped and then looked at her father-in-law. Neither said a word.

With a renewed vigor, Sonia pushed the tip of the screwdriver into the small crevice between the door’s edge and its frame. Above them, they both heard the front door exploding from its frame as the Sheriff barreled through it.

In the basement, they were breathless. Sonia jammed the screwdriver further into the small door's frame.

Overhead, the slow footsteps of the Sheriff echoed across the floor and then stopped. The Sheriff reached into his chest pocket and pulled out a half empty pack of camels. He rolled one of the unfiltered cigarettes across the tip of his tongue and then lit it. He inhaled deeply and slowly; his eyes studied the interior.

Dr. Sterling, Sr. whispered, “Sonia, he's in the house! Hurry!”

With a quiet grunt, Sonia levered the door slightly ajar; a tiny wisp of sunlight peaked through the opening.

Sonia slipped the narrow fingers of both hands into the crack and pulled. The door opened. The space was just large enough for the two of them.

“
Dad, get in!”

The old man groaned as he slipped his body into the chute; Sonia followed. The two of them scampered through the chute and were soon outside of the cabin and into the woods.

Inside, the Sheriff pulled open the basement door. With his pistol in front of him, he made his way to the basement. There he saw the opened coal chute. Kneeling, his pistol still drawn, he stared up the chute.

Well all be a son-of-a-prostitute
, thought the Sheriff.

Chapter Sixty-Four

Papal Apartment

The Vatican

“
You have the code that you need, now call off your dogs. Leave my wife and father out of this!”

“
Dr. Sterling, you are not finished. There is still the other half of the code to finish.”

“
Other half? All you needed was this one! You have the other half already! You don’t need…” Michael abruptly stopped speaking; the revelation of the Monsignor’s true intentions reverberated throughout his thoughts. His father’s voice was speaking to him again: Any time you put three men in a room one will immediately conspire against the other, and the third will align with whoever comes out on top.

“
It’s you! It’s been you all along. You don’t have any intention of giving these codes to the Messenger or to the Director do you?”

Monsignor Geoffrey Hauptmann looked upon Dr. Michael Sterling with a look that bordered on childish admiration. “I do stand corrected, Dr. Sterling. You are as smart as the Director said you are. If you must know, and apparently you have some incessant need to satisfy all of those unanswered questions in your tiny little brain – an all too common trait of your kind – The Order has been led for far too long by incompetent fools. They have fallen prey to the same things that plague this world: greed and self-preservation. It is time for new leadership, Dr. Sterling.”

“
And that would be you.”

Geoffrey didn’t answer and only smiled. He pointed the weapon at Michael, “Get back to work.”

Chapter Sixty-Five

The Oval Office

The White House

The Lt. Colonel looked young for his rank. He was visibly nervous, which couldn’t be held against him, or seem out of the ordinary given that the well practiced procedures he was now following were not being conducted as a drill.

Many times he had read the Field Manual that covered the required and well-planned steps. They were embedded eternally into his brain and next to the face of his young daughter, whose tiny blue eyes and admiring smile were also running through his mind. He didn’t have a photographic memory, but the requisites of his one simple job required perfection. Every step was memorized. He really hoped that this was a drill and that no one had yet told him: he hoped that this wasn’t real.

The tension in the room had the President pacing while all of the powerful men of the President’s inner circle watched the Lt. Colonel closely. The officer carefully laid the
football
on the coffee table in the center of the room. It was an action that caused all of those staring to move closer to the officer and the President to stop pacing.

The large and heavy leather briefcase earned the nickname
football
from an old Single Integrated Operational nuclear war Plan (SIOP) that had been codenamed
dropkick.
Although the SIOP has long since changed, the nickname stuck.

The
football
was now open.

The Lt. Colonel pulled out the four highly classified contents and began to spread them before the men. Each item that he laid out on the table seemed to validate the resolute seriousness of the situation.

General Diedrick picked up the Black Book, the first item, and refreshed his memory of its contents. The book listed all of the retaliatory options afforded to the leaders of the United States including one that called for a full-scale nuclear strike.

The President and Vice President sat themselves in front of the table. They were side-by-side. They looked at one another knowing that soon the Secret Service may have to be called in to separate the two. It would be a necessary action in case one of the men was to die. The Vice President picked up the second item from the
football
; it was a list of all of the classified launch sites. He studied them.

The Lt. Colonel gave the third item directly to the President. It was a three-by-five inch index card, “Mr. President, these are the authentication codes,” said the Lt. Colonel.

The index card was small and light, and was made from cheap paper stock, but beamed omnipotent in the round room. The President took the codes and then stared at each man in the room. The authentication codes were used to release any weapon from the United States’ nuclear arsenal and, now that the President was holding them in his hands, somehow exclaimed just how real the threat was. The President was nervous and afraid, but it didn’t show.

The fourth item that the officer pulled from the reinforced satchel outlined the procedures for the Emergency Broadcast System (EBS). No sooner had the paper touched the table than the DHS snatched it from its top and headed toward the door calling out, “Mr. President, I will activate the EBS immediately!”

“
Stop!” The President’s booming command would have echoed off the walls but the room was oval. Instead, the deafening word just hung in the air as if it were an anvil readying to drop. General Diedrick just shook his head at the presumptuous actions of the DHS.

“
You will do no such thing! So far, the only things that we have are nuclear missiles pointing straight up. We will do nothing until such a time warrants action on our part.”

The President walked to the shocked DHS and angrily removed the instructions from his grasp, “Mr. Director, would you risk fear induced rioting and widespread panic simply to satisfy your ego? Wasn’t it you that lamented the number of innocent lives that would be lost if we didn’t act pragmatically, that you would give one life for thousands?”

General Diedrick didn’t know how he could enjoy this moment given the somber circumstances, but he did.

The DHS began to open his mouth to speak but the President held up his hand, “John, I nominated you because you were highly recommended to me by the outgoing President. Against my better judgment, and as a favor to him, I did so. I made a mistake. Please go back to your office until I decide that I need you.”

The DHS grew sheepish and pale and looked ready to beg. If he were a dog, his tail would have been between his legs and he would have been whimpering. He left the Oval Office as a defeated man.

The President looked upon the remaining men and said, “This is not the time to act in a manner to satisfy any personal or political agendas or egos. I expect that each and every one of you in this room, including me, will remember that at no time in our history have we been faced with the gravity of a global nuclear threat. At this moment we are but men, neither Republicans nor Democrats, but simply are men. Our actions today may decide the fate of millions. We will act with calm; we will act with intelligence; and, above all, we will act with control. Any words, or comments, or suggestions that come out of your mouths will be done so with care and conscious thought. You will think twice before you speak. Any decisions made in this room will be made together. It is the fragility of the human condition and our innate morality, and not our biases and hatreds, which should drive us in our decisions. Do I make myself clear?”

Every man nodded.

With the aura of absolute authority, the President looked to each man, “What we may decide today will no doubt haunt each one of us for the rest of our lives. Forever, your soul will be in despair. This decision, if made, will be the single most crucial action that any one of us will have made or ever will make. If there is any one of you that does not feel he has the ability to make a decision that would extinguish millions of innocent lives, please excuse yourself now.”

Not one man moved as a few long and breathless moments passed.

“
Good. General, let’s start with you. Brief all of us on any and all options available.”

The General opened the Black Book and began.

As he did, the Lt. Colonel pulled out the one remaining item. On to the table, he set a radio and handset. The secured satellite phone is only to be used once the current SIOP is enacted.

General Diedrick stopped reading and looked at the phone in the same manner that every man in the room did. Continuing to read, he hoped they wouldn’t have to use it.

Chapter Sixty-Six

Papal Apartment

The Vatican

Michael clearly understood what was happening, almost kicking himself for not having figured this out earlier. The Monsignor was right in the middle of a coup. The man wanted to take control of The Order; he wants to be their leader. He was waiting to see what would happen between the two leaders: between the Other and the Messenger. Putting his attention back to the remaining portion of the riddle, he thought:
I will not let this happen.