The Hand of Christ (68 page)

In the coming days, teams from the US Department of Energy and the FBI, would search the area and find no evidence of any human life in the zone of impact. Not that they really expected that they would. They would find, however, a small part of a front axle from Scab’s truck that would have a partial Part Identification Number. Eventually, the FBI would trace that number to Mrs. Blanche M. Ellsworth. Mrs. Ellsworth resides in nearby Indian Springs, and would tell the FBI that the truck in question was stolen from her home nearly fifteen-years ago.

Reginald A. Booker died – vaporized really – from the nuclear blast and not one person had any clue. No one would know to look for Scab, and no one would miss him.

Samantha B. Booker, Scab’s sister, and Rhonda C. Franklin, a hooker, were the last two people to see Scab alive. Samantha died in a car accident twelve-years ago on highway 95 as she drove toward Lake Havasu, and Rhonda was dead too, she had died of complications from AIDS nearly nine years back.

Of course, not one person, other than Scab, knew about Dumbass either.

Chapter Seventy-Nine

The First among Equals

Rome, Italy

Colonel Camini gingerly helped Michael to his feet.

The Colonel’s left shoulder had been bandaged and he was clearly favoring that side.

The two men were surrounded by numerous plain-clothed Swiss Guard or members of The Watchmen – perhaps they were both – Michael couldn’t be sure, but watched as they efficiently removed the bodies of the dead men scattered around the room. A couple of them were trying to put out the fire in the fireplace so that they could remove the charred remains of the Primitus’s assistant. A few others were feverishly cleaning the room to scrub it of any evidence. For the second time in one day, the Colonel was conducting damage control.

He motioned to two nearby men and then pointed to the Primitus, “You two, pick up the Cardinal and take him to my car. Stay with him.”

The men obeyed their Colonel’s orders and picked the old man up from the floor.

Once he was on his feet, the Primitus looked at the Colonel and said, “I should have known, you are with The Watchmen. What do you propose to do with me, Colonel?”

Colonel Camini stepped nearer to the Primitus and addressed him, “Cardinal Francois, you are the Dean of the College of Cardinals and the
Primus inter Pares
– the first among equals – and I am the head of the Swiss Guard and charged with your protection. Cardinal Francois, I am also charged with the protection of the Vatican from the likes of you.” Colonel Camini stepped closer to the ranking member of the Catholic Church and lowered his face to that of the cowering Catholic Cardinal. “And protect her is what I intend to do.”

The Colonel snapped his fingers.

“
Get him out of here!”

Michael and Colonel Camini stared quietly at one another for a few moments.

“
Will you be alright, Dr. Sterling?” asked the Colonel as he broke their silence.

“
Yes, I think so. It could have been much worse. So, the Cardinal’s plan all along had been to kill Pope Leo so that he would be elected as the next Pope?”

“
It would appear so, Dr. Sterling. As the first among equals, Cardinal Francois was the favored member of the Church to become the next Pope.”

“
What will you do with him, Colonel?”

“
Cardinal Francois will be made to retire, that is all that you need to know. It is better for you.”

“
And the book, the Apocryphal? What will you do with them?”

“
Dr. Sterling – Michael – they will be put in a safe place and will be well guarded. The Order has suffered a defeat, and is broken, but they won’t be for too long. Two of their leaders are dead and the head of the Order is finished. It will take time, but they will regroup. The Apocryphal has a list of Christ’s descendents; it will be much easier for us to trace them now. But now that they know of the Apocryphal, and that we have it, I suspect that the Order will double their efforts to recover it. These items will be kept from their hands. They must be.”

Colonel Camini turned to walk away.

“
But, Colonel, what about the truth of the Crucifixion, doesn’t the world have a right to know?”

Camini stopped in his tracks and only peered over his injured shoulder at Michael.

“
What is the truth, Michael? Who amongst us can truly say what it is? Our world is an angry and violent place; the truth about Christ, whatever it is, will not change that, but time will. People, however misguided they are, will evolve, and with their evolution, new truths learned and old lies will be cast aside. Have faith in humanity, Michael.”

“
Faith is hard to have, Colonel.”

“
Indeed. I wish you well.”

The Colonel walked away.

Chapter Eighty

FOX Studio B

New York, NY

Anthony – “Tony” to his friends – Atkins, had been a news correspondent for FOX News for eleven years, and he knew a cover-up when he saw one.

The Celtics were playing the Lakers and FOX was airing the game live. Sometime during the middle of the third quarter, the producer handed Tony a brief on breaking news, and everything about it smelled – wreaked – of a cover-up.

Just once, he wished that he could expose the never-ending propagandist bullshit, but his middle six-figure salary, enviable downtown loft, and trophy-girlfriend were just too hard to give up. We all have our price, and Tony was being paid his.

The Producer moved fast and with purpose. Tony had just enough time to pull off the protective tissue paper that the hair and make-up crew tucked into his shirt collar before going live.

“
Tony, we are going to break into the game! You have five seconds, and four, and three, and…” The producer stopped speaking and held up two fingers and then one.

He pointed at Tony.

They were live.

Tony read the script from the teleprompter, “Ladies and Gentlemen, we apologize for the interruption of the regularly scheduled program to bring you breaking news. FOX News has learned that a low-yield nuclear weapon has detonated approximately eighty miles north of Las Vegas. Witnesses as far away as the resort city reported seeing a mushroom-cloud forming from the site of the blast.

“
Numerous reports told of a small white streak in the sky just before the blast. However, the United States Department of Energy (DOE) released an official statement that an unannounced, underground nuclear test was the cause of the mushroom cloud, and that there were neither injuries nor fatalities, and there is no cause for any concern. When asked by a reporter about the blatant violation this nuclear test was of the Comprehensive Nuclear Test Ban Treaty, the DOE official reminded the reporter that the United States has never signed the treaty.

“
In other breaking news, and occurring at nearly the same time as the nuclear blast outside of Las Vegas, an Iranian nuclear energy facility on the southwestern coast of the Persian Gulf was destroyed in an apparent missile attack.”

Tony saw the red light from camera one turn off and the one on camera three turn on, this was for effect. He coyly moved his eyes from camera one to camera three, bent his head down, lowered his voice, and uttered an oft-heard phrase:

“
No one has yet claimed responsibility.”

EPILOGUE

Phantom Canyon Microbrewery

Colorado Springs, CO

“
Thanks for the beer, sir,” York said and then nodded obligingly at CPT Scott.

“
Don’t worry about it, Corporal, you deserve it – again,” replied CPT Scott.

CPL York looked at CPT Scott and smiled.

“
York, I wanted you to know that I am putting you in for a Defense Superior Service Medal; you’ll get it, too, on verbal orders of the President. That doesn’t happen very often, York; if I could, I would put you in for a Silver Star, but you need to be in combat for one of those.”

York sat up straight and was nearly speechless; he was both surprised and proud, and then found his voice, “Thank you, sir, I don’t really know what to say, but thank you.”

“
Thank the President, York,” replied CPT Scott. “You know, York, you’re going to make a lot of officers turn their heads with that medal on your chest.”

“
Why’s that, sir?”

“
It’s usually only given to flag officers or generals when they perform ‘superior meritorious service in a position of significant responsibility.’ And, of course, the reason why you were awarded the medal will be classified.” answered CPT Scott.

York felt a ripple of pride run through him, but tried his best not to show it; CPT Scott noticed. Without saying anything, the elder soldier picked up his Hefe-Weizen and took a large swallow. Setting it down, he turned to CPL York and said, “York, I brought you here for another reason. The President contacted me after the Professor safely made his way out of Rome.”

“
The President called you, sir?”

“
Yes, Corporal, he did. He asked about you, and I told him that you were getting out of the military soon; he was surprised to hear that the Army would be losing – how did he put it – ‘such a fine example of a soldier.’”

“
The President said that about me?” asked York.

“
York, I told him that you had made up your mind, and were getting out of the Army. The President was sorry to hear that, and he wanted me to tell you that he wishes you well, but that if you decided to stay in, he would give you any assignment you wanted, including Officer Candidate School (OCS).”

CPL York was robbed of his words and said nothing. Instead, he just sat quietly in heavy contemplation. He was about to utter something when the bartender stopped in front of them and slid two fresh beers onto the bar along with a note, which he pushed toward the Corporal, and said, “You’re just a popular guy aren’t you?”

York looked at CPT Scott who just shrugged.

Opening the note, York read it: “Thanks for keeping your eyes on me; enjoy the beers I promised. Dr. Sterling.”

“
What the hell!” spat out York as he jumped to his feet. “Who gave you this?”

The bartender extended his index finger and pointed behind York and said, “That guy over there did…” A confused look draped across the bartender’s face as both CPL York and CPT Scott turned to look where the bartender was pointing.

The bar was nearly empty and all they saw was the door for the bar’s exit swinging on its hinges.

York stared at the door, and without looking at CPT Scott said, “Sir, the President’s offer, was it for anything?”

“
Yes, Corporal, it was.”

“
I know what I want, sir.”

“
What’s that, York?”

Reaching into his back pocket, York pulled out the Special Forces recruiting pamphlet that CPT Scott had given to him and threw it on the bar, “I want to roll around in the bushes with the best, sir.”

CPT Scott smiled.

Oval Office

The White House

The President of the United States was sitting at the Resolute; his legs were crossed and his hands cupped behind his head as he leaned slightly back in his chair. He stared at the vaulted ceiling of the Oval Office and realized that this was the first moment in the past forty-eight hours that everything around him was calm.

Closing his eyes, he tried hard to think of absolutely nothing, and for a brief moment his mind was blank.

Earlier in the day, he had received word from the Vatican that the Pope would survive the assassination attempt, and that President Ahmad of Iran wanted to “open up a dialogue” with the United States in an effort to work “hand-in-hand” to find all of those responsible for the attack on Umayyad and the assassination of the Ayatollah. There had been no mention of Iran’s nuclear missile systems; the President would deal with that later. Undoubtedly, being faced with the brink of nuclear annihilation has a way of filtering through religious dogma and political ineptness and making a man more amenable to productive discussions.

The President chuckled out loud when he thought this.

Closing his eyes once more, the President felt relaxed, really relaxed, but knew that the feeling wouldn’t last long. Prophetically, the sharp buzz of his phone disturbed his moment of peace. Reaching to the phone’s console, he pushed the illuminated button and asked, “Yes, Mrs. Childs, what is it?”

“
Mr. President, the Director of Homeland Security is here at your request.”

“
Thank you, Mrs. Childs, send him in.”

The door of the Oval Office furthest from the Resolute opened, and the President’s personal Secret Service Officer escorted in the DHS.

“
Thanks, Tiny, you can wait outside,” said the President.

In a voice that truly belonged to the very large Secret Service Officer, Tiny flatly responded, “Yes, Mr. President.”

The President stood and walked to the DHS and said, “John…”

But before the President could utter his second word, the DHS interrupted, “Mr. President, I know that my actions were not the right ones, and I am sorry; I was just doing what I thought was best at the time. I promise you that I will learn from them.”