The Rule of Knowledge

by Scott Baker

  ‘Yes, and that’s something I thought about,’ Shaun said, letting his mask drop. ‘I thought about exactly what I knew. I thought about what could happen to fulfil what I knew to be true, but that would have a different outcome. In the film industry they call it pre-production. Please,’ Shaun said rising, ‘follow me and we can continue our discussion.’

  Giovanni rose and followed Shaun to the alcove that housed the restrooms. Knocking twice on the door of the disabled toilet, Shaun said, ‘It’s me.’

  The door swung open and the two men entered. What Giovanni saw when he surveyed the cubicle caused his eye to twitch, the most indication he had given yet of surprise.

  ‘All I really know, is what I saw. I put together what I thought happened in my head, but my wife here is a testament to the fact that what you think happened may not always be the case. I thought I saw her shot and killed, but all I saw was a raised gun, and then I heard shots. It turns out, those shots missed,’ Shaun said, smiling at Lauren. ‘Vincenso, this is Lauren.’

  The priest kissed her hand. ‘An honour.’

  ‘Now, Lauren has prepared some things here …’ Shaun began.

  ‘I can see,’ he said, looking around at the collection of bottles, brushes and palettes. ‘You intend to fake my death. Very clever, Mr Strickland. How long do we have?’ Giovanni said, pulling off his shirt without having to be asked. Lauren got to work.

  ‘We have as long as it takes – so long as that’s not more than about ten minutes.’

  It was perhaps twelve minutes later when they emerged from the disabled bathroom. A small boy standing outside in the hallway looked up at them open-mouthed. Giovanni, looking like he had just escaped the fires of Hell, offered a smile and wink to the boy, who turned and ran back to his parents, traumatised.

  ‘Are you sure it’s triggered from your unlock button?’ Shaun asked as they brushed through the small lobby, trying not to be noticed.

  ‘I know Le Clerque. It is only he who would do this. Only he would have the, how you say, balls. I know his team’s methods. That will be the trigger.’

  Shaun was satisfied and walked away with Lauren from the now hideous-looking old priest.

  ‘You really should have gone into the movies,’ he said to Lauren as they backed behind a hotel column.

  ‘Yeah, I can see my dad agreeing to that!’ she laughed, proud of her handiwork. Then she paused. ‘Maybe I still will.’

  Vincenso Raul Giovanni looked at his new white Alfa Romeo and sighed. He loved that car; it was the best one the Vatican had ever provided on its lease scheme, and it handled like a dream. Giovanni placed two quick calls: one to the fire department and another to his own people to drive an ambulance to retrieve them. Pulling out his keyring, he looked at the car once more. Then, he blew it up.

  The explosion was enormous. It was far bigger than any of them had expected. Windows shattered, glass shards flew, the fireball engulfed the surrounding cars. The shockwave knocked Giovanni off his feet, and he had to get up and scramble to the spot Shaun had designated.

  From behind the column, Lauren gasped as she saw David and her husband race down the stairs and push their way through the crowd. As much as she had already believed what Shaun had told her, seeing two versions of her husband in the same place did her head in.

  As she watched Shaun push his way through the crowd, she imagined the pain he was in, believing that she was dead. Lauren wanted more than anything to call out to him and tell him it would be all right.

  The commotion lasted only a couple of minutes before the ambulance and fire brigade arrived. Keeping out of sight of the bomb site, Shaun hustled Lauren out and into the ambulance, an eerie sense of déjà vu passing over them. Moments later they were on the road again and speeding away from the hotel.

  Giovanni sat up and began to tear the prosthetics off his face. ‘I did as you said: I told him to read. May I ask what that was about?’

  Shaun withdrew the paper containing Giovanni’s name. The priest examined it, recognising a translation he had authorised of a document found with the Dead Sea scrolls but only recently rediscovered in the painstaking cataloguing process.

  ‘How did you get this?’ he asked Shaun as they sped through the narrow Roman streets.

  ‘From a walnut,’ Shaun replied. ‘Look, how I got it isn’t important right now. What it says is. You’re familiar with the document?’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘Who else has seen this?’

  ‘Very few. Although, as you can imagine, Le Clerque and his men now have full access to everything I was working on. He has definitely seen this. He may have seen it years ago for all I know; he worked in translations.’

  ‘The map it speaks of, and the diary, what do you know of these?’

  ‘Not a lot, I’m afraid. We hadn’t really discovered what was meant by “Caroline’s grandfather”. It seemed to be a very personal reference. We have been searching for this Caroline girl for a long time.’

  Shaun smiled. Yes, it really was personal. ‘It meant Grandfather Mountain in North Carolina in the United States.’

  Giovanni, for the first time, looked at Shaun with genuine surprise. ‘How do you know this?’

  ‘Because I found the diary. I found everything.’

  ‘You found the diary?’ Giovanni almost shrieked. ‘We must get it translated right away! Where is it? Does Le Clerque know about it?’

  ‘Le Clerque knows about it. He had people at Grandfather Mountain. They worked it out, but they hadn’t found anything.’

  ‘And you did?’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘Where is it now? We must have it translated!’

  ‘I’m afraid that’s not possible. Your friends at The Society tricked David and me into carrying it right into The Facility. I had it on me when the machine was activated.’

  ‘Then it is at The Facility?’

  ‘It is, or it will be. But, the translation isn’t necessary. The book was written in English.’

  Giovanni stared. Slowly he began to nod. ‘That would make sense, I suppose. It would prevent anyone from knowing what it said if it was found early. No one would be able to read it until very late this century. Then, you have …’ Giovanni swallowed. ‘You have read the Fontéyne diary?’

  ‘I have.’

  Giovanni was very quiet as he processed everything he had heard.

  ‘Let me ask you again, Vincenso. What is it that you want? You agreed to meet me on the pretence of trading information for a player. Now, I’ve saved your life and told you I’ve read the diary. What is your motivation? No bullshit.’

  Giovanni again was quiet. He then looked directly into Shaun’s eyes and, for the first time in his life, he made the decision to share his innermost desire with another person.

  ‘My friend. It is my wish, my deepest motivation, to recover the disc and see the face of our Lord Jesus Christ once again.’

  ‘Again?’

  ‘I … I came to this calling through a vision. I need to know if …’ Giovanni looked down, as if ashamed.

  ‘What would Le Clerque do if he found the disc?’ Shaun pressed.

  Giovanni took a deep breath. ‘I have known François Le Clerque for a long time. A long time. We were friends back in seminary.’ Giovanni looked into the distance, as if looking through the years. ‘He was … is … a brilliant man. A man of exceptional intellect. Probably the most intelligent man I have ever known. He is passionate, and incredibly ambitious, but …’ Giovanni shook his head. ‘He had these ideas. These, how you say, notions, about what really happened. He does not believe that Jesus died on the cross.’

  ‘But he’s a Catholic?’ Lauren asked.

  ‘Yes, yes,’ Giovanni waved his hand, ‘he kept these notions to himself, of course. Very few of us knew what he truly believed; only those of us he had tried to convert to his way of thinking. No, you are right, he was a Catholic, but not because he believed the doctrine of the Church. He was a Catholic for the power.’
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  ‘Why does being a Catholic have anything to do with power?’ Shaun asked. This world was new to him.

  Giovanni smiled. ‘My friend, despite what outside observers may think, there are only three religions in the world that wield considerable political power: Judaism, Islam and Christianity. The Jews let their money do the talking and influence politics through financial aid of their preferred candidates. Islam is a divided religion; the Shiite and Sunni factions battle with each other. But it is only one religious branch, the Catholics, who have a nuclear weapon,’ Giovanni said and then stopped. He let the point sink in.

  ‘The Vatican?’ Shaun said slowly. ‘The Vatican has a nuclear weapon?’

  ‘They have three,’ Giovanni replied. ‘This is a fact unknown to any government in the world. It is a fact known to only a very select few in the upper echelons of the Vatican, and to Le Clerque.’

  CHAPTER 69

  ‘Are you saying that all this is about Le Clerque wanting control of a nuclear arsenal?’

  ‘Müller is dying. Pope Pius, as you know him, is in the advanced stages of pancreatic cancer. He intends to announce his retirement within the week. When he does so, the conclave of one hundred and fifteen cardinals from around the world will gather and vote. A new Pope will be elected.’

  ‘But that could be any of them, right?’ Lauren cut in.

  Giovanni smiled. ‘I’m afraid that today the decision is guided less by the Holy Spirit than by blackmail. I’m afraid that Le Clerque’s ascent is a foregone conclusion.’

  ‘So, he wants to become Pope, but why does he want to control the nukes?’

  ‘It is the Pope, and he alone, who knows the launch codes to these devices. You see, Le Clerque believes fervently in what he is doing. He sees the threat to the world in the rising wave of Islam and the terrorism and hate it brings. He does not separate our Islamic brothers from those few who commit atrocities in the name of Allah. He calls Islam a “virus” and told me once that one day he would “cleanse the world” of it. Le Clerque’s lust for power is absolute. He doesn’t want to be the leader of one of the world’s religions; he wants to be the leader of the world religion.’

  ‘What? He can’t just make other religions disappear!’ Lauren cut in.

  ‘He’s going to start a war,’ Shaun said quietly.

  ‘He is going to start a war,’ Giovanni echoed.

  Shaun thought back to the diary, and what Hamza had told Fontéyne: ‘Millions will die.’

  ‘I don’t get it,’ Lauren said, shaking her head.

  ‘Where are these nuclear weapons housed?’ Shaun asked.

  The priest closed his eyes. ‘Two are off the coast of Israel, and one is in Rome.’

  ‘He’s going to launch one against an Islamic nation …’ Shaun said, joining the dots.

  ‘I believe he will launch a nuclear strike against Iran, and make it appear that Israel is responsible.’

  ‘Iran will have no choice but to respond,’ Shaun continued.

  ‘Yes, Mr Strickland. They will launch against Israel, and of course this will draw in Israel’s sworn allies, the United States and Britain, and many more. Iran will call upon their Muslim brothers for a Jihad against Israel and the West in defence of Islam …’

  ‘World War Three,’ Shaun finished.

  ‘Le Clerque will let the Jews and the Muslims wipe each other out, and then he will be the world’s saviour through his own version of Christianity.’

  There was silence in the back of the ambulance as the realisation sank in.

  ‘And if you found this disc, Father Giovanni?’ Shaun asked.

  ‘I would take it to the Holy Father, and allow his ultimate wisdom to decide. But,’ Giovanni paused, ‘I believe that finding this disc, and presenting it to the conclave, is the only way to stop Le Clerque’s rise to the papacy. The only way to stop this war.’

  It made sense to Shaun now.

  ‘You are assuming what’s on the disc?’ Shaun asked.

  ‘I am. I have to go on the idea that it contains an interview with our Lord.’

  ‘It was a contingency,’ Shaun said quietly.

  ‘Excuse me?’

  Shaun put the pieces together. ‘I’m afraid there is no interview on the disc.’

  Giovanni stared wide-eyed. ‘You … you have seen the disc?’

  ‘No, but I have read the diary. It seems Le Clerque had a contingency plan should someone else find the disc before he did. He hatched a plot to kill Pontius Pilate and stop the crucifixion of Jesus.’

  Lauren looked at Shaun. She had never heard him talk about religion except to say how narrow-minded he thought it was.

  ‘Then the agents you say he planted inside The Journalist Project, he would …’ Giovanni stammered.

  ‘He succeeded. Delissio the Italian, and Barishnikov the Russian.’

  ‘They were to kill Pilate?’

  ‘They failed.’

  ‘You know this from the diary?’

  ‘I know this, and a lot more, from the diary. It cannot fall into the wrong hands; it contains too much information.’

  Giovanni’s eyes lit up. For a man who traded in information, the news could not have been more enticing.

  ‘Then the disc is still our best hope! You say you have a player?’ Giovanni asked.

  ‘Ah, well, yes. I will by this time tomorrow.’

  ‘You do not have one with you?’ the Italian asked, sounding disappointed.

  ‘No. I’ve employed someone to retrieve the player from where David and I were forced to abandon it. It will be returned to me tomorrow, and we will have just enough time to catch up with David and the other me as we – they – head into the mountains.’

  ‘And for this, all you want is a phone number?’

  ‘No. I want your contact at The Society. I want to know everything about them that you know. I need to find out whose side they’re on.’

  ‘The Society is, I believe, on no one’s side. They have their own interests at heart.’

  ‘Were they responsible for the attempt on Lauren’s life?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Do they want me dead now?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Who’s pulling the strings here? Who’s running The Society?’ There it was, the real question.

  ‘Mr Strickland, these things I simply don’t know. I will give you the number I use to contact them. They usually contact me, but when I do need to speak to them, I leave a message on the video-store answering machine stating my desired time and place of meeting, and a contact meets me. It is usually to trade information or as it was in this case, to tell them about Le Clerque. In the past they have requested a meeting to ask me to arrange components of technology or to use our influence on a particular government.’

  ‘Government? Which government?’ Shaun asked.

  ‘Why, more than you can imagine. The Journalist Project involves many countries from every region on the planet, though most don’t know they are involved. They are mostly blind to anything beyond their own small part; a pay-off here, a trade there. It is a very complex thing. The Vatican is seen as somewhat neutral on the political stage, and so our relationships are generally good, even with the Muslim countries. They politely respect our differences.’

  ‘Call.’

  ‘What? Now?’ Giovanni asked as the ambulance made a sharp right turn.

  ‘Now. Call.’ Giovanni opened his phone on Shaun’s command, but then stopped.

  ‘I think … I think it’s better if you call, Mr Strickland. After all, Le Clerque now thinks I am dead. That can be an advantage. If The Society is indeed in cahoots with Le Clerque, then I do not want to give away our upper hand.’

  Shaun nodded, seeing that the priest was right. He took Giovanni’s phone and dialled, unsure of what he would say as he waited for the answering machine to click on.

  ‘Yes.’

  Shaun froze. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to leave a message. He covered
the mouthpiece and mimed to Giovanni, who shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

  ‘Ah … is this the video store?’ Shaun asked.

  ‘No, Mr Strickland, this is The Society for World Historical Accuracy,’ the voice said. Shaun’s blood ran cold. Was Giovanni setting him up?

  Yet, Shaun knew the voice, although he could not place it. A man, perhaps forty or fifty years old; a British accent with a twang of something else. It waited patiently in silence.

  ‘Ah … I … want to meet.’

  ‘Agreed. Where?’

  Shaun again covered the mouthpiece.

  ‘Where? Where should we meet him?’ Shaun asked Giovanni. The Italian again shrugged, still a little stunned that the phone had been answered.

  ‘Ah, the … Coliseum. No, no … the Circus Maximus. The main gate.’

  ‘Agreed. When?’

  ‘Half an hour?’ Shaun spat out.

  ‘Half an hour,’ the voice repeated, then continued. ‘You will see a boy with olive skin and dark hair sitting at the corner of the gate. He will be wearing a Carolina Panthers cap. Approach the boy and he will give you something. You will know what to do with it. Take what the boy gives you to Pakistan. In the old city in Peshawar under the tip of the six o’clock shadow of the Bala Hisaar fort tomorrow, you will be met by an American. You will recognise him. His name is Allan Johnston and he will take you to where you need to be. Your friends will have recovered the player for you, but you are not to give it to the priest. You must bring it with you to The Facility.’

  ‘Wait a minute, just who are you and what—’

  ‘Do not question me, Shaun,’ the voice said, sounding uncomfortably like the way his father used to chastise him. ‘Do as I say and you will live a long and happy life with Lauren.’ Shit! How did he know about Lauren? ‘You must make the priest come with you, believing he is going to get the player, but you will not give it to him. Tell him, after he has seen the player and again watched the Napoleon disc, that he needs to come with you to The Facility if he wants to expose Le Clerque to the Holy Father. You can tell him I told you this, but only after you get him to Peshawar with you, otherwise, he will not go. Oh, and I suggest you stay close enough to David and Shaun that you can hear some of their conversation, as it may make more sense to you this time.’ The phone disconnected.