He left the chamber and located Brother Gerasimus. “We shall have to remove the bones to Northampton Abbey and wait for the prophecy to unfold in its own manner,” Reynard stated.
“The stone housing the bones must weigh tons,” Gerasimus said. “How can we transport it?”
“I know a way,” Reynard said. “Trust me.”
Monastery Refectory
Cathedral of Mont St. Michel
Having found their way into the monastery refectory after leaving the choir loft, Titan Six stood in the abbey’s refectory. Tank hit the light switch. Dead bodies lay in pools of drying blood. They were the monks, security guards, and tour guides normally stationed at Mont St. Michel.
“The United Nations declared the island to be a World Heritage Site,” Angela explained. “These were the last inhabitants of Mont St. Michel.”
Acolytes charged the team from the refectory entrance on the left; Council commandoes attacked from the right.
Donovan was still fumbling for his M16 by the time Shooter and DJ had mowed down the commandos with decisive blasts from their weapons.
Quiz, Hawkeye, and Tank did not have time to draw their sidearms. The three men engaged the acolytes in hand-to-hand combat. Quiz sent the first acolyte reeling with a solid leg kick to the attacker’s gut. Tank threw a dizzying haymaker at the second acolyte, who staggered backwards and fell over one of the long dining tables. Tank jumped over the table and landed a second blow, rendering his foe unconscious.
Hawkeye had drawn the most ferocious of the acolytes, who had knocked the team leader backwards with rapid, sharp blows to the chest.
Hawkeye shook off the attack, lowered his head, and charged forward. The acolyte was driven against a plaster wall with a fresco depicting the Last Supper. Although dazed, the acolyte surrounded Hawkeye’s throat with muscular fingers and squeezed. Eyes bulging from lack of oxygen, Hawkeye grabbed the acolyte’s head with both of his hands and turned it sideways.
Snap!
The acolyte slumped to the floor with a broken neck.
“Let’s get out of here!” Hawkeye said, normal color returning to his face. “I want to get that bastard Reynard.”
“And the bones,” added Shooter. “Don’t forget the bones.”
Hawkeye glanced over his shoulder with a look of frustration. “Yeah, whatever,” he said.
Ops Center
Aboard the Alamiranta
“Make your way across a small courtyard,” Touchdown instructed, “and enter the main monastery building. Travel the length of the first floor, past all the living quarters, and you’ll find what appears to be a freight elevator that descends deep into the mountain. I show your crimson target to be directly below the monastery.”
“We’re on our way,” said Hawkeye.
* Your grandfather is about to meet a watery death. *
Then we need to get back to the beach.
* No. Follow Hawkeye. *
“What’s down below?” Hawkeye asked.
“A labyrinth of chambers,” Touchdown warned. “Almost as complex as the basements and labs beneath Whittington Manor. The catacombs are heavily guarded.”
“Of course they are,” said Hawkeye. “Why should things get any easier now?”
Chapter 21
The Catacombs
Mont St. Michel
The bones that Godefroi St. Omer had discovered a thousand years ago were still encased in stone that now rested in the chapel where Reynard had placed his audio speaker. The stone was twenty-five feet wide, fifteen feet high, and ten feet deep.
The chapel was adorned with a linen-covered altar to the right of the bones. Candles illuminated many statues of Michael the Archangel.
“We shall move the stone to the freight elevator,” Reynard told Gerasimus and Antonius.
“That will take days,” Antonius protested. “We have only wooden rollers to use to advance a stone weighing thousands of pounds. And we’re under attack.”
“We shall dispatch this group of Western cowboys as quickly as possible,” Reynard said. “If necessary, use gas to immobilize their troops and then kill them. Dispose of the bodies in the ocean.”
“Yes, my master,” said Antonius.
The Catacombs
Mont St. Michel
In a nearby chamber in the catacombs, Charles Whittington’s bloody body hung upside down, suspended over a large one-hundred gallon vat of water. The rope tied to his cinched ankles was looped over a high rafter and secured at floor level to a series of gears with wooden teeth. In five-minute increments, the main gear advanced a notch, causing Charles’ body to fall six inches.
Reynard entered the chamber.
“You can save me a great deal of trouble, Professor,” said Reynard. “Your head will be submerged in approximately thirty minutes. You have until then to spare me the task of moving the bones to my own monastery. Now then: how can I summon the Archangel?”
“He’s not subject to your command,” Whittington relied hoarsely.
“Very well then,” said Reynard tersely. “You shall die.”
Reynard turned with a flourish, his robe billowing behind him as he left the chamber.
Charles had been hallucinating, or so he thought. He was lapsing in and out of consciousness. His body was no longer in pain — it was simply numb. He felt as if he were in his sensory deprivation chamber. The real world of sun and fresh air was far away.
In the past hour, he thought he had seen angels and saints conversing with one another, but he knew they weren’t real. The scientific part of his mind knew that his brain was manufacturing large amounts of serotonin and several endorphins, certainly enough to explain transient visions.
He had also seen a monk who was most assuredly not a member of Reynard’s mysterious order. A mere apparition, of course, but it smiled at Charles as if it knew him well.
The wooden gears clicked loudly. Charles’ body fell another six inches.
Main Monastery Building
Mont St. Michel
With enhanced night vision, Hawkeye led his team across the small courtyard with no problems and saw the outline of the side door to the main building.
“Targets in the monastery,” said Touchdown, “but no one to block your entrance.”
Titan Six made its way quietly into the monastery. The rooms and center hall were dark, although light spilled from a room thirty yards in the distance.
“DJ, bring up the rear in case someone followed us,” said Hawkeye.
The team crept along the wide hall. Hawkeye was about to give orders for taking the lighted room twenty-five yards away when he fell to his knees. The hall became foggy as team members began to cough.
“We’ve been gassed,” said Tank. “It’s coming from air vents in the ceiling.”
Hawkeye struggled to speak. “Touchdown, activate the BioMEMS for T6. Everyone else, pour some water from your canteens into a cloth or handkerchief and breath through it.”
“Roger,” said Touchdown.
The team crawled along the floor. It had already attracted the attention of Council commandos in the room ahead.
The bloodstreams of enhanced Titan Six members were cleared of the gas within a minute. The others coughed while holding wet pieces of cloth against their faces.
Six commandos, all wearing gas masks, were fifteen yards away.
Hawkeye fired but missed. The hall was still filled with remnants from the noxious gas discharge.
DJ was the first to fully recover. She stood and fired her Calico M960. Two commandos went hurtling backwards as if they’d been jerked by a cable.
Tank fired his Glock and took down a third.
Three shots then echoed loudly in the hall. Shooter claimed a fourth commando with her Barrett REC7.
Rolling on his back, Hawkeye turned around to see where the other two shots had come from.
Archbishop Donovan had squeezed off two rounds from his M16. The last two commandos were hit in the chest and forehead respecti
vely. They fell to the floor, dead.
He wasn’t using any wet cloth to protect himself.
“Nice shooting, Archbishop,” Hawkeye said. “Sure you weren’t more than just a chaplain in the Army? You hit those guys with split-second accuracy. And how come you’re not feeling the effects of the gas?”
“Even chaplains learn how to use a gun, Mr. Hawke,” Donovan answered. “As for the gas, I took a deep breath as soon as I saw you go down. I was also an Olympic swimmer and can hold my breath for a very long time.”
“You’re full of surprises,” said Hawkeye. “Okay, everyone. Let’s see if we can find that elevator.”
The team climbed to its feet and continued down the hallway.
* We have some unusual company. *
Who?
* I don’t know yet. The feeling is still too amorphous.”
The Archangel?
* I don’t think so. *
DJ looked behind her and in the adjoining rooms. The hallway air was clean once again, and she saw no one. But something caught her attention on the floor. It was the size of a small pink button. She didn’t know what it was, but she picked it up and stowed it in her breast pocket for future reference.
Subterranean Chapel
Mont St. Michel
Brother Erastus entered the chapel of the Archangel Michael.
“The freight elevator is jammed,” he told Reynard. “It’s not responding. It’s stuck on the monastery’s first floor.”
“Our visitors are more clever than I anticipated,” Reynard said. “We will not be trapped, however, nor will we allow them to reach the sacred bones. Here is what we’ll do.”
He moved close to Erastus and whispered his orders.
Five minutes later, acolytes were dispersing throughout the maze of catacombs.
Chapter 22
Ops Center
Aboard the Alamiranta
“Something’s wrong,” said Touchdown, “or else my telemetry is malfunctioning.”
“Explain,” said Caine.
“I second that suggestion,” Hawkeye said into his COM.
“Dozens of targets in the catacombs are disappearing,” Touchdown said.
“Do you mean that they’re moving to different locations in the underground chambers?” asked Caine.
“No. They’re simply . . . disappearing from my screen.”
Caine studied the holographic display. The red targets were indeed winking off the grid.
“Damn strange,” she said. “Any theories, Touchdown?”
“No, ma’am. I’ll need some time to check our feed, my equipment, and — ”
“We don’t have the luxury of time,” Caine said sharply. “Work the problem.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Hold your position, Mr. Hawke,” Caine said.
“Too late,” Hawkeye said. “We’re already on our way down.”
The Catacombs
Mont St. Michel
The wide, deep elevator came to an abrupt halt, shaking as its pulley cables stretched taut.
“I think I know what the problem is,” Angela said as the team exited the freight elevator. She ran her delicate fingers across the stone walls of the catacomb. “Although I’m an anthropology student, I paid my dues in a few geology classes. The rock down here has several veins of various metallic ores. Iron, aluminum, gold, silver, and a few others. The liberal combination of such ores could interfere with almost any kind of radar.”
She’s so sexy. I love a woman with brains.
* DJ is quite intelligent, too. *
True, but not in the same way.
* Brains and beauty — that’s a powerful combination. *
I’m in love.
* With whom? *
With both.
* That, my dear friend, is more dangerous than being on Mont St. Michel with a madman. *
Ops Center
Aboard the Alamiranta
“Angela’s absolutely right,” declared Touchdown. “No wonder she works for a genius like Charles Whittington.”
“How are you able to read Titan Six?” Caine asked.
“Their signals are stronger because of the tactical suits, as well as the COM sets for Marshall, Donovan, and Quiz. The acolytes don’t afford me that advantage.”
“What about Reynard? Any crimson target?”
“I’m not reading him at the moment.”
“Look sharp,” Caine said. “Let me know the instant anything appears.”
“Always,” said Touchdown.”
The Catacombs
Mont St. Michel
Charles was only one foot above the vat.
Click.
The wooden gears advanced. Now he was six inches above the surface of the water. Two more clicks, and his head would be totally submerged.
Be brave.
It was only two words, but Charles had heard the voice before. It was the same voice that had spoken to him in the empty hall at Whittington Manor.
Charles was not sure what kind of encouragement the words were intended to convey. Was he to be brave because he was going to be rescued? Or was he to be brave in the final hour of his life? Was he going to die?
He didn’t know. But he had always obeyed the voice, and he would try to do so now.
He lapsed into unconsciousness again.
Ops Center
Aboard the Alamiranta
Touchdown shook his head in frustration.
“I don’t know what to make of this,” he said. “Targets are now appearing and disappearing, including the crimson target.”
The holographic display was blinking like a Christmas tree with timed lights.
“Theories?” said Caine.
“Either Reynard and the acolytes are moving rapidly from chamber to chamber, or else the veins of metallic ore are only partially blocking my telemetry. It’s probably a combination of the two. The veins vary in strength and are not uniform throughout the catacombs. I can only give Titan Six guesstimates.”
Caine put a reassuring hand on Touchdown’s shoulder. “I’d trust your guesstimates over other people’s certainties.”
Touchdown smiled.
The Catacombs
Mont St. Michel
“We’re approximately one hundred and seventy-five meters below the monastery,” Hawkeye said.
“Targets are spread around you uniformly,” Touchdown said. “They seem to have fanned out. Reynard is another fifty meters below you and to the east if I can trust my on-again off-again sensor readings.”
“Thanks,” said Hawkeye.
Titan Six advanced into the catacombs, dimly lit by torches sitting in iron braces on the walls. Hawkeye led the way, followed by Shooter, Tank, Donovan, Angela, Quiz, and DJ.
“Target right behind you DJ!” said Touchdown.
DJ whirled around, bringing her submachine gun waist-high.
A single shot pierced the bottom of her neck, just above her Kevlar vest. Her eyes fluttered as she turned and fell against the wall. Quiz wheeled around and fired his Glock. The acolyte slumped to the white stone floor.
DJ went down as well.
Hawkeye and Tank knelt beside their fallen comrade.
“She’s bleeding badly, Ops,” said Tank. “Missed her carotid and windpipe, but the bullet has obviously nicked something important.”
“Releasing thrombin into her bloodstream to start a coagulation cascade,” Touchdown said. “Also attempting to stabilize blood pressure and heart rate through her BioMEMS.”
Hawkeye summoned Angela. “I’m applying pressure to the wound,” he said. “Reach into my med kit and get some gauze and tape. Roll the gauze tightly so I can pack it into the wound and secure it.”
Angela complied, and Hawkeye succeeded in slowing the trickle of blood flowing over DJ’s combat uniform.
“Good job, Angela,” said Hawkeye, who lifted DJ to her feet with Tank’s aid.
The German operative was unsteady and barely conscious. Hawkeye and Tank draped
DJ’s right arm over Quiz’s shoulder, her left arm over Angela’s.
“You’re going to have to carry her,” Hawkeye said. “Are you up to it?”
Quiz and Angela nodded.
“Shooter, take point,” Hawkeye ordered. “Tank, bring up the rear.”
“Vital signs are slightly improved,” said Touchdown, “but DJ’s heart has gone into arrhythmia. She’s got atrial flutter.”
“Get Dr. Nguyen up her,” Caine said from the Ops Center.
Titan Six moved deeper into the catacombs.
The Catacombs
Mont St. Michel
“I hear a weak voice up ahead to my right,” Shooter said.
“It could be a trap,” warned Tank.
“Or it could be a hostage,” said Quiz.
Touchdown broke in. “Hawkeye, if you descend a spiral stairway straight ahead, I think you’ll find our nemesis. The Fox is directly below you.”
“Roger that,” said Hawkeye. “I’m going to have a look below. Everyone else, I want you to check out the rooms ahead and see where that voice is coming from.”
“You’re not going alone,” protested Tank. “I’m going, too.”
“No, little brother. You’re second-in-command, and Titan Six needs your firepower.”
“I’ll go,” said Archbishop Donovan, advancing to Hawkeye’s side.
Hawkeye nodded. “Alright. Let’s move.”
The two team members disappeared into the bowels of the catacombs as the rest of Titan Six moved towards the voice.
The Catacombs
Mont St. Michel
Click.
The scalp of Charles Whittington now touched the top of the water. He began saying the Lord’s Prayer again and again.
Moments passed as he waited for the next — and final — click. Ironically, he would drown hundreds of feet below solid ground.
“Grandfather!” cried Quiz, rushing into the room.
DJ was laid in the corner of the chamber, Shooter kneeling next to the now unconscious form. Quiz pulled his grandfather’s rigid body to the side, away from the vat, as Tank braced a wooden ladder against the rafter above and cut the rope suspending Charles. Gently, they placed his body on the floor and untied his hands and feet.
Bones of Angels Page 10
