by Rick Jones
But it was Kristoffel who struck first. After perceiving an opening in the odd arrangement of Mr. Galileo’s stance, the Klansman pressed forward with a series of snap and roundhouse kicks, all which were easily deflected by Mr. Galileo. The moment Kristoffel threw a succession of straight jabs, Mr. Galileo swung his left arm in a sweeping motion to knock Kristoffel’s arms aside, moved in, and started to strike Kristoffel with blows to the face and chin. The punches came so fast they appeared as blurs with blow after blow finding their marks. Even when Kristoffel’s nose erupted with a ropy blood gout, Mr. Galileo never relented. With the stream of non-stop hits bludgeoning Kristoffel’s face into mash and pulp, Kristoffel’s eyes eventually rolled upward until they became nothing but slivers of white.
With the Klansman unconscious, Mr. Galileo released the man who fell to the ground as if boneless.
All Mr. Galileo had to do now was to figure out how to get Kristoffel back to base.
Though it would not be easy without drawing a suspicious eye, Mr. Galileo would manage to do just that.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Salt’s wife and two children had always been the joyous light within him. They were his reasons for wanting to create a safer and better world, a place where they could live without fear of consequence. It was a vision he shared with Elias Caspari, and the umbilical tie that bound them together.
While Salt was reading a magazine article about the process of nuclear fission, his cellphone vibrated in his pocket, an incoming text. Looking at the faceplate, he noted that the message and its attached file was encrypted. After decrypting the file, he read the text from Ueli.
Neutralization of unknown subject (see attached photo). Kristoffel also tailed by an unknown subject.
Forwarded for ID analysis.
Salt opened the photo file and saw the remains of a man whose throat had been slashed, which was Ueli’s hallmark signature for killing the opposition. After further examination, Salt had no idea who this man was. But he knew that tracking units did not exist without purpose or cause. This man and the man that followed Kristoffel were obvious pros.
With quick fingers, Salt created his own encrypted text and forwarded it to Ueli, telling him to return to the mountainside stronghold for a briefing with Elias Caspari. He also mentioned that the photo had been sent to the Deep Mountain Tech Team for analysis. After hitting the send button and then deleting the photo and messages, Salt slipped his cellphone inside his pocket and stared into the open space of his living room.
It was quiet. The girls were gone— ‘shopping’ he thought his wife said as they were leaving. Now the apartment belonged only to him. As he sat there thinking, he wondered about the people who shadowed the members of the Klan. Am I being watched, too? If so, by whom?
Salt stood up and went to the window that overlooked the street. Barely parting the drapes, he did so enough to look down to see if he could spy anyone who appeared out of the norm. People milled and walked the streets, some he recognized. Whereas others moved along without any real interest of their surroundings. So far, at least by Salt’s inclination, nothing appeared suspect to him.
Grabbing a jacket that was draped over a wing-back chair, he left the apartment and made his way to the Deep Mountain facility.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The Master Tech Lab
Deep Mountain Facility
Lucerne, Switzerland
The Master Techs was the umbrella name of the unit of researchers who specialized in many different sciences. One team would be established for the purpose of compromising foreign databanks and appropriating any TS intel. Another would examine and study the more intricate sciences such as physical cosmology, as was the case of the dark particle. And then there was the practical science of analyzing codes and ciphers that were ancient or up to date.
When Salt texted the photo from Ueli to the lab’s analytic stage of operation, the techs immediately downloaded the image into their facial-recognition program and ran a search. It took approximately thirteen seconds for the software to mark a MATCH-hit of 99.9%.
It had come from the files adopted illegally from the Consortium data fields, a biographical record.
Berl LEBERECHT (AKA: Mr. Shakespeare)
Born: May 6, 1992
MILITARY AFFILIATIONS: (KSK) Kommando Spezialkräfte
The CONSORTIUM
(Highly Decorated)
Then the record continued to outline Leberecht’s combat history while with the KSK, showcasing a string of photos, and spelling out his membership with the Consortium.
The moment Salt arrived to review the findings; the bulb of enlightenment suddenly went off in his head.
Somehow, someway, the Consortium had discovered the whereabouts of the Eye of Moses and they wanted it back. How they happened to center on to its location so quickly had to be due to Salt’s failure to completely sanitize his actions in the retreat. The Consortium had obviously picked up something from the Croatian video files that opened investigational doorways regarding their current position, something Salt had tried to prepare for. But all the Consortium needed was a miniscule amount of evidence to proceed forward. Obviously, they had discovered enough to lead them directly to Lucerne.
Since the tech sent the entire file to Salt's cell phone, the assassin went to confront Elias Caspari about a growing threat that loomed in the city below.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Physical Cosmology Lab, Deep Mountain Facility
Lucerne, Switzerland
Lessons had yet to be learned from the first attempt of trying to extract the gemmed particle from the head of Aaron’s rod. And devising a method of the ‘proper procedure’ was paramount to the efforts of developing a world-class weapon as a bargaining chip. As soon as the particle was regulated and understood, the next stage would be to exploit its power for military application. Inside a controlled environment anything was possible, even constraining a universal power considered by some to have been created by the Hand of Providence.
Elias Caspari and his Master Tech viewed Aaron’s rod from the bank of monitors on the console. Inside the bell-chamber, the staff continued to rotate upon its stanchions, as if in exhibition.
Caspari sighed since patience was not his virtue. “Any progress?”
The Master Tech nodded. “It’s imperative that we take the necessary precautions,” he told him.
“That’s not what I asked you,” said Caspari. “Has there been any progress of removing the particle from the staff?”
“No.”
“No?”
“Like I said, it’s imperative that we take the necessary precautions. We already lost two men with a simple flexing of the particle’s muscle. We must first understand the level of its full potential before we can make another attempt. Right now, the scanners are showing a high volume of energy.”
Elias Caspari leaned over the console and placed his fisted hands against the panel, knuckles down. Then he said evenly, “Listen to me and listen good. The price of progress is destruction. I need you to figure out how to render this particle safe for the utilization of a WMD, so that I can neutralize the number-one military might of the world. Once the United States has been erased from the equation, other superpowers such as China and Russia will yield rather than to suffer the same consequences. Remember our goal: One voice under one rule.”
“With all due respect, Mr. Caspari, and I know you’re eager, but this particle most likely predates the creation of the universe. If we rush into this, the cost to this facility may be too great to overcome. Right now, this particle is a mystery to us. We need to peel back the layers of the onion to expose its center, and the workings of its central core. To do so hastily on our part could unequivocally destroy not only this mountaintop facility,” he turned to Caspari so that their eyes locked, “it could also destroy Lucerne and the areas far beyond the city’s borders.”
Caspari fumed as he worked the muscles at
the back of his jaw. “Let me make myself clear,” he informed his tech. “I understand the risks involved here. But to sit here all day staring at the monitors because you’re troubled as to a possible outcome isn’t a march toward progress.” He leaned closer to the tech until he was inches away from the man’s ear, and added, “My advice to you is to examine a means to control this power . . . before I assign another who may be far more qualified to sit in your seat than you are.”
The tech gave Caspari a sidelong glance. “Yes, sir.”
Standing straight, Caspari saw Salt standing in the background with features that did not betray his emotions, neither good nor bad. Then when Salt walked up and bent close to Caspari’s ear, he told the project leader about a problem that needed to be addressed.
But when Elias Caspari responded by saying ‘that there was no problem that could not be dealt with satisfactorily,’ Salt said four words that made Caspari’s face blanch.
“The Consortium,” he said. “They’re here.”
Without hesitation, they headed to Caspari’s office with Elias Caspari feeling the world suddenly closing in on him.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
“How is this even possible?” Caspari said, doing little to hold back the heat of his tone.
“It appears that I may have underestimated the abilities of the Consortium,” Salt stated calmly. “I can only assume that they had the competence and capability of using high-end technology by means of geospatial-satellite coordination. How they knew about Gruber, Ueli and Kristoffel remains unknown. Unless, of course, they were using high-quality FR programming, which would explain the targeting of team members once the satellites tracked us to Lucerne. The moment we disembarked . . . resident cameras may have caught our images.”
“And you didn’t think enough to check on this before you touched down?” Caspari asked. Then he gestured to Salt to take the vacant chair opposite Caspari’s desk at the same time Caspari took his seat. And then from Caspari: “It is what it is,” he said in a much calmer fashion. “Now we take the appropriate actions since there’s a solution to everything, yes?”
Salt did not respond since he accepted the question as rhetorical.
Then as if on cue, Ueli entered the office with all eyes immediately centering on the assassin’s unsightly scar. Ueli, however, instead of being subconscious about this flaw, looked upon it as a badge of honor and a reminder of a past battle that had been fought and won.
“Sit,” Caspari told him. Ueli took the chair next to Salt.
Then Caspari addressed Max Ueli directly: “What happened?”
Ueli discussed in full about his meeting with Hans Gruber and Alix Kristoffel at a café. At this point there was nothing suspect about the possibility of being under surveillance. The sense of being studied from afar only struck them after they had concluded the meeting. ‘You know that sixth sense’ Ueli had told them, ‘That extra perception that all good soldiers are equipped with.’
Salt knew exactly what he was talking about.
As Ueli continued and details began to take shape, additional questions came to light when Gruber and Kristoffel had yet to check in, which obviously raised red flags for Caspari to contact the Deep Mountain tech team to check the CCTV files of the café.
After tapping into programming that was hardly considered high-priority networking, the tech team was able to log into the CCTV video files regarding the exchange at the café. On a large monitor behind Ueli and Salt, Caspari ordered the tech unit to transfer the data feed to his office screen.
The picture was in black-and-white and not spectacular, but the quality wasn’t poor, either. It was good enough for facial recognition to plot the points of Mr. Plato’s face for a positive ID.
The deck was empty with no witnesses, the platform about to become a combat arena between two seasoned professionals. At first the conversation between them appeared benign until Mr. Plato revealed a suppressed weapon.
More talk.
Then more of nothing.
And then Gruber moved with extraordinary speed by tipping over the table in Mr. Plato’s direction, which caused Plato’s firearm to discharge an errant round. And then the two grappled with one another until Mr. Plato schooled Hans Gruber in the sport of martial arts and pushed him back against the railing. More words were exchanged between the two with Gruber quietly raising his hands in surrender. Then surprisingly to everyone inside Caspari’s office, Hans Gruber tossed himself over the railing and into a freefall to the valley below.
After the picture closed, Elias Caspari returned his attention to the men sitting before him. “Since there’s no footage on Kristoffel, I’m accepting the fact that he failed to report to Deep Mountain because he disappeared in an area where there’s no CCTV scan. Whether he’s dead, alive, or held captive remains to be the question. And one I want answered as soon as possible.”
“Before I mobilize a unit on common ground,” Salt stated, “I believe it would be prudent to review additional footage from all points across the city.”
“That would be wasting time,” Caspari returned, “should Alix Kristoffel be in the custody of the Consortium.”
“Kristoffel has an iron constitution,” Salt informed him. Then he pointed to the TV monitor against the wall. “As did Hans Gruber, who sacrificed himself rather than give up utilitarian secrets.”
“The constitution of every man is different,” Caspari returned evenly.
“Not when it comes to those under my command.”
“Your people, Salt, were also supposed to be the best of the best in combat. But that,” now it was Caspari’s turn to point a finger at the TV, “proved to me that your unit is not as skilled as you made them out to be. Hans Gruber didn’t even put up a fight.” Then noting the measure of Ueli’s scowl, who no doubt took umbrage from Caspari’s remark, Elias quickly added, “Barring present company, of course, as told by your actions with the one called Mr. Shakespeare. Well done.” This softened Ueli’s features.
“Still, I’d put my team up against anyone within the Consortium,” said Salt.
“Well, I’m glad you said that,” Caspari stated, “because that’s exactly what you’re going to do. There’s no doubt that the Consortium came after the Eye of Moses. How they happened to track your unit to Lucerne doesn’t matter. What does matter, however, is that they’re here and we have to deal with them. They’re not going away unless we take the steps to deactivate them.” Then addressing Salt, he added, “I want you to send Mr. da Vinci a clear message. I want every member of the Consortium unit lined up in a neat little row of corpses . . . Then I want it to go viral.” Elias Caspari leaned forward and winged his arms on the desktop. “Make it so, Salt. I can only assume that they’ve been able to track the Eye of Moses to the city . . . but not to the complex. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have approached Gruber to mine him for information. That’s why we need to find Kristoffel and fast—before he compromises our location.”
“That’s not going to happen,” said Ueli. “I know Alix. He wouldn’t give up Deep Mountain.”
“Maybe not,” Caspari returned. “But I’m not willing to take that chance, either. We’re dealing with the Consortium here. And as you’ve already seen on the TV monitor by their display of combat skills, they appear to be accomplished fighters who can rival Salt’s team. Whether Alix speaks or not, the Consortium knows that we’re in the general area. It’s only a matter of time before the location of the facility is identified.” After easing back into his seat, Caspari added, “Salt, I need you to shore up the defenses of Deep Mountain. Since there’re only two means of entering the precipice—by chopper and by cable car—we can defend both fronts until I can abscond with the Eye of Moses to another satellite location. I need you to buy me time. I need you to take out the Consortium unit when they come . . . And they will come.”
Salt nodded. “I can send a team into the city and put them on the hunt,” he told Caspari.
; “Belay that. I want your team here to defend the fortress until I’m gone.”
After the discussion abated and Salt and Ueli left the office, Caspari made immediate demands to his personnel to begin a massive evacuation. Of course, extra care and diligence were to be taken with the Eye of Moses and the crucible that once belonged to Nostradamus. But the feedback he received was not what he wanted to hear from his lead tech manager. Such a venture would take weeks, not the days that Caspari requested. After Caspari told his Lead Tech to work his unit until they dropped, he then advised his chief researcher to break everything down for immediate transport.
Severing the call, Elias Caspari looked out the window and at the grand vista. With snow-capped mountaintops and floral-laden valleys, there was nothing more beautiful, he considered. But the idea of the Consortium closing in on their position kept bouncing back at him. They were canvassing the area for the lab. And it would only be a matter of time before they discovered it. This he knew since the Consortium was their only rival in the scheme of all things—the ying to their yang.
Knowing that they had Aaron’s rod gave him hope that its powers could be interpreted, understood, and harnessed to such a degree that there would be no equal.
But he also understood that such an endeavor would not go without a challenge, either.
The Consortium, he knew, was coming for them with all the armaments they could carry.
What he would not account for, however, was that they were also approaching with their most lethal weapon: a Vatican Knight.
* * *
The company’s lead technician toggled the lever on the telecommunications switchboard to end his interaction with Caspari. The researcher had become incensed because Elias Caspari had been asking for the impossible. Removing the Eye of Moses was a delicate procedure—one that had already cost the lives of two men.
