Sign of the Cross paj-2

by Chris Kuzneski

  Remarkably, even as a child, Paul Adams enjoyed the missionary lifestyle even more than his parents. Where most children would’ve crumbled under the severe conditions, Adams managed to thrive. He shrugged off the heat and the bugs and the lack of creature comforts because it was the only life he’d ever known. Why would he waste his time watching TV when he could be helping his fellow man instead? That’s what was really important.

  When he reached his twenties, he knew it was time to leave his parents’ side and start his own ministry. Not because he didn’t love them or the life that he was living, but because he knew that he could do more on his own. And everyone around him sensed it. There was an energy about Adams, a glorious mixture of compassion and charisma that drew people to his side, a force that made people want to follow him and work for him no matter where he went.

  In his native Australia, the Aborigines called it ‘the golden spirit.’ They claimed it was a gift that was bestowed by the gods every hundred years or so. In their culture it was the greatest quality that a person could possess, a quality that only the eldest Aborigines could recognize because they were the wisest members of their tribe, therefore closest to God. And according to the elders, Paul Adams was the man who had the spirit.

  He was someone who would change the world. The chosen one for this century.

  The media seemed to agree. Time magazine referred to him as the ‘Mother Teresa of the New Millennium’ while Newsweek dubbed him ‘Saint Sydney.’ He was young, charismatic, and loved throughout the world. Which was the main reason he was chosen to die.

  The sun wouldn’t be up for hours, giving Tank Harper and his men plenty of time to work. They had grabbed Paul Adams two days before, nabbed him in Morayfield, Australia, while he was on his way to Brisbane. They’d done it so cleanly that it looked like Adams had been plucked off the face of the earth by the right hand of God.

  No witnesses. No evidence. No problems.

  A day later they were in Beijing going over their plans one last time. Advance surveillance told them that they couldn’t get inside the Forbidden City without being seen. It was surrounded by a moat and steeply angled walls that would’ve been doable with some light gear but not while carrying a 500-pound cross and a 175-pound victim. That meant his team had to figure out a different way to get inside. Something that the Chinese would never expect.

  Harper considered many concepts, everything from a winch system that would hoist the cross over the wall to a giant Trojan horse. Nothing excited him, though, until he heard an ancient Chinese proverb about treasures falling from the sky. At that moment Harper realized that he was looking at the problem all wrong.

  Why go up when it was much easier to come down?

  58

  As smoke filled the hall and sprinklers drenched them, Payne realized something was missing: the sound of a fire alarm. Most of the time the order went: fire, smoke, alarm, then sprinkler. But not today. He wondered why that was and if it was important.

  ‘The alarm should be on,’ Ulster assured him. ‘Both here and at the firehouse in Biasca… It must’ve malfunctioned.’

  Somehow Payne doubted that. ‘Is there a manual turnoff?’

  He nodded. ‘It can be deactivated with the proper key.’

  ‘Who has the keys?’

  ‘Me, Franz, and all the guards.’

  Kill a guard, take his key, and turn off the system before it could warn the fire department. That’s what Payne would’ve done to stop help from coming. ‘Where’s the switch?’

  He pointed to the eastern section of the house. ‘There’s an electrical panel in a back hallway. Everything can be run from there.’

  ‘Then that’s where we’re going.’

  Ulster looked at Payne like he was crazy. So did Boyd, Maria, and Franz. The heat was starting to build and so was the smoke, yet Payne wanted to head deeper inside. The only one who understood was Jones, because they’d been stuck between a rock and an even bigger rock several times before. They knew in situations like this they weren’t going to outgun anyone. That meant they had to outthink them. They had to do something unexpected, or they were going to be slaughtered. ‘Trust me on this one. I know what I’m doing.’

  Everyone nodded tentatively.

  ‘Petr, lead the way with D.J. Doc and Franz, you’re in the middle. Maria, you’re fifth, followed by me.’ Payne gave her a rifle. ‘This will be easier to aim than a Luger.’

  The fear in her eyes told Payne that she was worried. Whether it was from the soldiers, the fire, or Payne, he didn’t know. In truth, he was tempted to tell her that they’d discovered her connection to Manzak just to clear the air. That way, he could stay focused on everything around them instead of keeping an eye on her. Unfortunately, if he told her he knew, he ran the risk of dealing with an emotional mess, which might be tougher to control than what he was facing. That’s why he decided to wait. He would hit her with it later. If both of them survived.

  Sprinklers sprayed water through the billowing smoke, causing black rain to fall. It clouded their vision and affected their breathing. They tried to compensate by staying as low to the floor as possible, but that slowed their pace as they moved deeper inside the building.

  As they approached the final hallway, Jones signaled for them to stop, then waved Payne forward. Refusing to take his eyes off Maria, he walked backward until he reached the front. At that point he turned to Ulster and said, ‘Maria’s getting a little jumpy from the stress. See if you can calm her down.’ He grabbed his arm for emphasis. ‘And if she does anything irrational, ask to inspect her gun, then refuse to give it back. I don’t want her hurting herself or anybody else.’

  Ulster nodded and headed toward Maria. Payne watched them interact for a few seconds before he turned his attention to Jones. ‘How do you want to play this?’

  ‘You lead, I’ll follow.’

  ‘Works for me.’ Payne stepped forward and peered around the corner.

  According to Ulster, the security panel was down the hallway to the left, so he stayed as close to the left wall as possible, hoping to hide his approach until he was on top of them. That is, if anyone was even back there. The truth was, all of this was an educated guess on Payne’s part. For all he knew, the fire alarm could’ve malfunctioned, and he was risking death for nothing. Then again, it wasn’t like they had a better alternative, because Payne knew if they ran out the front door they were going to be gunned down before they made it halfway to the fence.

  At least this way they had a chance to get out alive.

  Three steps from the bend, Payne heard two muffled voices. He pointed to his ear then raised both Lugers in the air to let Jones know that he had heard two men. Jones slid beside Payne and waved his gun near the floor. That let Payne know he was shooting low. Payne nodded while taking another step. One of the men was speaking in Italian, while the other answered in Schwyzertütsch, the German dialect that most people used in Switzerland. They were teamed together yet communicating in two different languages. Payne hoped Jones was listening, because he knew he’d have some theories on what that meant and what they were saying.

  Of course, they’d have to worry about that later, because it was time to take them out.

  Payne pointed to his watch, then mouthed, ‘Three… two… one… go!’

  Jones stepped low and wide, while Payne stayed high and tight. Their movement was so quick the soldiers didn’t have time to react. Both of them wore military fatigues and gas masks, which accounted for their muffled voices. AK-47s hung off their shoulders on straps.

  In a normal assault, Payne would’ve ordered them to surrender before he did anything violent. But not here. There was a language barrier to consider, so Payne decided to be aggressive. His first bullet went through the Italian’s biceps about the same time Jones put one through his calf, a shot that tore through his muscle and imbedded itself in his other leg. He dropped to the floor in a writhing pile of agony as blood oozed from him in several different directions. Mea
nwhile, the Swiss soldier stood there with a deer-in-the-headlights look, not really sure what was going on, even though he saw Payne and Jones at the end of the hall.

  Payne knew they had to use one of the enemies to get them to safety, so Payne opted not to shoot him. Instead he rushed forward, disarmed both men, took off their masks, then put his Luger under the Swiss soldier’s chin, even though he knew the barrel would be hotter than a curling iron. ‘Do you speak English?’ Payne demanded as he heard the sizzle of burning flesh.

  ‘Yes,’ the Swiss soldier groaned. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Cooperate or die. How large is your squad?’

  ‘Six… Us plus four.’

  The Italian continued to writhe in pain, so Jones kicked him and told him to shut up.

  Payne continued. ‘Where are the others?’

  ‘Outside. All outside.’

  ‘How do you communicate?’

  ‘A radio… in my pocket.’

  Jones grabbed it, making sure it wasn’t transmitting their interrogation.

  ‘Why are you inside?’ Payne demanded. ‘What’s your job?’

  ‘To prevent your retreat.’

  That meant the moment Payne had stepped outside, they would’ve snuck behind him and stopped his crew from reentering. It was their way to guarantee a slaughter in the yard.

  Payne pushed harder on his Luger. ‘What were you waiting for? What was your signal?’

  ‘Their call. We’d wait until their call.’

  Payne shook his head. ‘Change of plans. You’re the one who’s going to call or you two are going to die. Got me?’

  He tried to nod, but the barrel of Payne’s Luger prevented it.

  Jones handed him the radio and told him exactly what to say. Then, just to be safe, Payne assured the soldier that Jones spoke several languages and if he heard anything that resembled a warning, Jones would tell Payne to pull the trigger. Payne knew the soldier didn’t believe him, so Jones said a few words to him in German and Italian and several other languages. The guy’s jaw would’ve dropped if Payne wasn’t holding it in place with his gun.

  Payne growled, ‘Make the call. Now.’

  The soldier turned on the mic and spoke in his native tongue. ‘Max, they’re getting away! We missed an escape tunnel! They’re running near the base of the mountain! Hurry!’

  Jones grabbed the radio from the Swiss soldier and complimented him on his theatrics. Payne had no idea what the guy had said, but he could tell that he’d put his all into it. It was a performance that saved the soldier’s life. And Payne’s crew as well.

  All of them stood there, patiently, waiting to hear Max’s reaction. Ten seconds later, they heard a stream of chatter going over the air. First Max. Then someone else. Then Max again. Payne looked to Jones for a translation, but he signaled him to wait. Another voice. Then Max. Then Max again, only this time much angrier. Payne could tell that from his tone.

  Finally, Jones heard what he had hoped for. ‘They bought it. They’re heading for the back.’

  Payne smiled at the news. ‘Call me crazy, but what do you say we head for the front?’

  Everyone laughed except for the two guards. They knew it was just a matter of time before they were dragged outside and knocked unconscious.

  59

  The lodge in Küsendorf was two blocks away and probably under surveillance. That meant they needed to find an alternate means of transportation. Franz suggested one of the Archives’ delivery trucks. They were parked outside the compound in a separate lot.

  There was room for two people up front and about twenty in back. Franz offered to drive, since he was familiar with the roads, and Ulster offered to keep him company. The rest of the crew made themselves comfortable among the boxes and crates. An overhead light let them see, or Payne would’ve opted for different arrangements. He was about to have a critical conversation with Maria, and her reaction would tell him more than her words, so visibility was a requirement.

  Once they got settled, Payne retrieved everyone’s weapons. He made an excuse about old guns needing maintenance if they got wet, and everyone handed them over without suspicion. Next he asked Boyd what he was carrying in his backpack, and he told Payne it contained the videotape, the scroll, and as many books as he could grab.

  ‘OK,’ Jones said as he unfolded Raskin’s e-mail. ‘There’s something we need to discuss.’

  Payne sat to Jones’s right, pretending to dry a fully loaded Luger that he kept aimed at Maria. With her legs tucked under her, she sat across from Payne, while Boyd sat beside her on the floor.

  Jones said, ‘Right before we were attacked, we received some information from the Pentagon. Data that I was able to print out. It seems that one of you has been keeping some secrets from us. Secrets about your involvement with the men from Milan.’

  Boyd looked at Maria, and she looked at him, neither sure who he was talking about. It was a tactic that sometimes revealed secrets from both parties. Maria asked, ‘Can you give us a — ’

  ‘Just come clean,’ Jones demanded, glancing back and forth. ‘We need to know everything, right here, right now, or we’re turning you over to the authorities. Consequences be damned.’

  Boyd and Maria stared at each other. Neither of them talking. Both of them paranoid.

  Finally, Boyd said, ‘Enough with the games. I’ve been through enough training to recognize your tactics. It’s obvious that you want one of us to break and provide you with something substantial. However, I can assure you that neither of us has a hidden agenda.’ He pointed to the paper in Jones’s hand. ‘Tell us what’s on the sheet. I’m sure it can be logically explained.’

  Jones glanced at Payne, and Payne nodded. It was time to reveal their cards.

  ‘Back in Milan,’ Jones said, ‘when Maria picked up the rent-a-car, what were you doing?’

  Boyd answered, ‘I was waiting at the warehouse.’

  ‘Maria, did you call anyone at the airport?’

  She seemed startled by the question. ‘Who would I call? It was the middle of the night, and I was trying to sneak out of town. Why would I use the phone?’

  Jones nodded, still hoping she was innocent. ‘Did either of you recognize the men from the choppers?’

  Boyd shook his head. ‘Not I.’

  ‘And Maria? What about you?’

  She looked at Jones, confused. ‘You were with me the entire time. You know damn well that we couldn’t see anyone. It was too dark, and we were too far away.’

  ‘True,’ he admitted. ‘Very true.’ He paused for a moment, letting them soak in the tension. It was more than enough to frazzle Boyd.

  ‘That does it. We demand to know what’s going on and demand to know now. We’re on your side, for heaven’s sake. Not theirs.’

  ‘Is that so?’ Payne asked, entering the conversation. ‘We’d like to believe you, but this information causes us to have doubts. Especially since we know the enemy is Maria’s brother.’

  Both Maria and Boyd went pale. Slowly, they looked at each other, searching each other’s eyes for the slightest hint of guilt. Then they turned toward Payne and Jones, speechless.

  Jones asked. ‘What’s the deal?’

  ‘There is no deal. I don’t even know which brother you’re talking about.’

  ‘Roberto,’ Payne said. ‘We’re talking about Roberto. He was the guy who came to Pamplona and claimed to be Richard Manzak. The same one who showed up in Milan and pulled a gun on us.’

  ‘The one you killed?’ she gasped.

  ‘And tortured. And maimed.’ Payne was trying to get her to lose her cool, so he poured it on thick. ‘Did I tell you what I did to him while you were on the chopper? I needed to get his name, but he wouldn’t tell me, so I was forced to improvise.’

  Without warning Payne leapt to his feet and grabbed her hand, slamming it down with such force that she gasped in terror. Then he spread her fingers on the dirty floor and used the barrel of his Luger to tap the main knuckle of her index finger. Tappi
ng it over and over, again and again, letting her feel the cold metal, letting her imagine what her brother went through in Milan. And he did this in hopes of getting her to talk. He hated to be so rough with her — especially since she could be on his side — but he was doing it for the safety of others.

  He had to know where her allegiance was. It was imperative.

  ‘The blade went in here. Right through his skin and veins and bone. I sawed his finger in two, then put its tip in my pocket so I could fingerprint it. That’s right, while we were in the chopper, I was carrying your brother’s finger, dripping with your family’s blood.’

  Maria’s olive skin turned pale, which Payne assumed was because of his monologue. But when he pushed her further, she pointed out something that they had overlooked, a simple fact that told Payne and Jones a lot about her family and whose side she was fighting for.

  ‘You’re forgetting something,’ she said. ‘That night in Milan, when you made contact with Roberto, you told him that I was in the Ferrari, right? Hiding with D.J.?’

  Payne nodded. That’s what had happened.

  ‘And how did he respond?’

  Oh, shit! Payne thought to himself. How could he have been so dumb? How could he have overlooked that? Roberto had pushed the button on his detonator like he was stepping on an ant. No guilt. No remorse. No indecision. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it. For some reason the thought of killing his baby sister had brought him immense pleasure.

  Suddenly Payne had all the proof he needed. Maria and Roberto were not on the same side.

  60

  Benito Pelati didn’t shout. Or scream. Or lose his cool. He simply leaned back in his chair and smiled. It was a reaction that Cardinal Vercelli and the rest of the Council hadn’t expected.

  ‘Am I missing something?’ Vercelli asked. ‘Your reputation will be ruined if we allow the blackmailers to tell the world about the Catacombs. You understand that, don’t you?’