Davidson watched helplessly as police car after police car surrounded the Temple square. He’d thought about trying to keep the cars back, but to what end? It would only increase the emergency response, and he would have to give away his position.
No, now it was time to behave like a quiet little mouse, hiding up in the ornate gabling of the temple, waiting for his moment to be effective.
“We’ve got movement,” Stark blurted out into Davidson’s ear.
“Where?” Davidson asked, swinging his rifle to and fro, seeing only what was expected.
“No, sorry, not on site, but from the Army Base just south of Salt Lake.”
That did not sound good. So much for a simple in-and-out operation. “What kind of movement?”
“They are mobilizing an entire platoon,” Stark said, his pitch going up with each word. “There’s also chatter about an illegal mission going down. Even the Governor has been alerted.”
“Do we have the letter dated?” Davidson asked. He knew that Brandt had tasked Stark’s mother to get their letter suspending their posse comitatus legit, making a very illegal mission into a perfectly legal one.
“It has been dated. I have a PDF right here,” Stark’s mother responded.
Okay, that put them in the clear, but who would know they were even here? Let’s say the team had tripped some kind of silent alarm that Stark didn’t catch. If so, wouldn’t everyone just assume that it was a routine robbery? Why invoke the Army? Why call the Governor?
The answer was simple. Just as Lopez predicted. They had a mole.
* * *
Brandt wasn’t too happy. This was taking too long. He could only imagine what was going on topside.
“ETA?” Brandt asked his wife, trying to keep his impatience in check.
Rebecca looked up from her computer. “Cristoval isn’t going to like this.”
Of course, the religious zealot wasn’t going to like it. The guy wanted proof that Jesus had visited the Americas and was an alien. Brandt would have bet his paycheck Cristoval wasn’t going to like what he found down here.
The ground rumbled under his feet. Just a perfect accompaniment to this super-annoying mission.
Really, Brandt just wanted to flush out whoever had put them on the terrorist watch list. His faith was strong enough that nothing they found here would shake him.
Rebecca stood up, holding her laptop to her chest like it was one of their children. Brandt flashed for a just a moment on another baby in her arms. He couldn’t wait.
“What do you mean?” Cristoval asked. “This gospel clearly states that Jesus came from another world. That he is an alien.”
* * *
Rebecca took in a deep breath. People saw what they wanted to see. They read into things what they wanted to read into them.
“Cristoval, are you at all familiar with ancient Greek?” Rebecca asked.
By the look on his face, he was not.
“It is extremely difficult to translate and I am afraid that whoever did this translation from the Ancient Greek to Old English, did an incredibly poor job.”
“But --”
The floor shifted under foot again and this time dust sprinkled down from the ceiling.
“Let her finish,” Brandt said, then turned to her. “And just give me the Reader’s Digest version okay? I really don’t need footnotes or a bibliography. You don’t have to annotate your findings.”
Rebecca smiled. Oh, how her husband knew her well. Even now she wanted to discuss a whole host of sidebars to really show Cristoval just how wrong he was.
She nodded to her husband though. Brandt was right, they just needed to power through this.
“Okay, look the Greeks didn’t even have a concept like outer space aliens at the time this was written, which does feel to be proto-Christian Greek,” Rebecca said. Cristoval tried to butt in, but Brandt glared at him, effectively shutting the man up.
“The closest concept they had would be gods and demi-gods and referring to Mount Olympus, which they don’t in the original Greek version,” Rebecca explained. “And for each reference to ‘alien,’ the Greek really meant distant foreigner. Like someone who came over from the Holy Land would be described.”
“But, but,” Cristoval sputtered. “We have these rocks. They must prove to be other worldly.”
Lopez came over, scrunching his nose at the pile of glittering rocks. “You know what that is? Just turkiz. And guess where the stones are native to? The Middle East.”
Rebecca put a hand on Cristoval’s. “I’m so sorry, but all this bible proves is that someone from the Middle East, very familiar with Christ’s life, came here. Nothing more.”
Cristoval picked up the bloody robes. “These, these must be the robes Jesus wore upon rising, certainly they will prove to be his.”
“Well…” Rebecca said. She had intimate knowledge that that wouldn’t be true. Cristoval was agitated enough right now, she didn’t need to freak him out even more.
“Then who wrote these gospels?” Brandt asked.
* * *
Rebecca cocked her head. “I’m trying to figure that out. This script, the phrasing all feels extremely familiar.”
“Maybe the content itself tells us who it is?” Brandt suggested. His wife might be the rock star of proto-Christianity, but he wasn’t exactly a slacker. After spending these years with her, he’d quadrupled his knowledge. “Maybe one of the apostles?”
“No, these stories are more of Christ’s childhood. His early years. The apostles didn’t come into the picture until much later. Even Magdalene.”
“Then who?” Lopez asked. His face looked like a little kid’s did when it was story hour at the library. He loved his fables. Strangely, with a baby Momma and a second kid on the way, Lopez retained his wide-eyed innocence of the world. Even losing his best-friend Levont only knocked Lopez off his game, it didn’t squelch his curiosity.
Rebecca cocked her head back and forth. Brandt knew that look, she was on the edge of a break-through. Just then, the cave jerked sharply, nearly putting them all on their butts. They were at the edge of a cave-in.
He turned to Ki, “Find us a way out of here.”
Ki nodded and went back to the chute. This one was smooth and steep. They were not going to be able to get back out the way they came.
“Start hitting symbols,” Brandt suggested, just as a nice large crack spread overhead. They were going to need to bug out and bug out quickly.
“These are stories about Jesus and Judas’ time together. When they formed their strong bond…” Rebecca’s eyes seemed unfocused, as they darted back and forth, as if she were reading a document from memory. “The writing on the cave wall…”
“Ameil,” Rebecca whispered.
“Ameil?” Cristoval asked. “I am not familiar with that familiar of Jesus.”
“Because he’s not,” Brandt said. “He’s Judas’ nephew.”
Okay, this just got real.
* * *
Cristoval turned away from the doctor and her soldier husband. What did they know of the Brotherhood secrets? What did they know of his sects’ century-long secrets?
Another sharp jolt and the floor split beneath his feet.
God’s anger at Dr. Monroe’s false accusations.
Christ had come to the new world. None could refute that. Cristoval did not need to know ancient Greek to know the good doctor was wrong. Flat out wrong. And who was this Ameil?
They were simply making things up to damage the Brotherhood’s legacy. He would not allow it. The Brotherhood would hire their own ancient Greek specialists. The Brotherhood would take these rocks and prove they were extraterrestrial. They would take these robes and prove that was Christ’s blood on them.
These were gifts from Jesus himself, when he came over to the new world.
If they were all fake, then why did the Mormon Church agree to protect them all these years?
“Cristoval,” Dr. Monroe said in that way that the
person who said it felt comforting, but really they were just being condescending.
“Say what you will,” Cristoval said with a wave of the hand. He had his faith. She had hers. “I believe none of it.”
“I have seen Ameil’s handwriting,” Dr. Monroe repeated. “I know his style, this bible was written by him.”
“You know nothing,” Cristoval hissed. These heretics with their modern ideas and computers that spit out what they wanted, rather than Christ’s truth.
Cristoval now regretted sparing their lives. He should have done what many of the Brotherhood wanted. A complete annihilation of this team and their scheming ways.
Cristoval might not be able to make that come to fruition now.
But someone else in this party might be able to.
The cave shook again, groaning as if agreeing with Cristoval’s plan.
CHAPTER 21
Davidson watched as the pavement split. The Tabernacle rocked back and forth, splitting supports off. Cops scrambled back, as they tried to evacuate the Temple Square.
Something had gone wrong.
Surprise, surprise.
There must have been some kind of self-destruct built into whatever chamber the team had found. Davidson could only hope that the team was heading out. If they weren’t, they were screwed.
“Stark,” Davidson said into his mic. “You are going to have to come up with an evac plan, buddy.”
“Um, isn’t that Lopez’s territory?”
“We may not have time. Figure us out something and make it fast.”
The Tabernacle swayed looking like it was made of Jell-O instead of a solid steel and concrete base.
Davidson felt so helpless, but what could he really do? Now that the Square was fairly evacuated, he might be able to sneak over there, but to what end? He could rush into the crumbling Tabernacle, only to get trapped himself.
No, as always, his job was to be patient and to trust his team.
They would find a way out. He would provide cover fire. They would survive the evac.
Okay, maybe those weren’t trust issues, but wishes.
Davidson swept his scope over the Square again. The cops had retreated to the streets that edged the Square. He searched for the weakest part of the perimeter. It looked to be the northeast corner. For some reason, that had probably half the number of cops at the other side of the Square.
Davidson lined up his shots. He was going to hit a few car hoods. Blow out a few tires, generally create mayhem and enough confusion to allow his team to get out, if they arrived on the scene.
When they arrived.
* * *
Brandt spun around to his wife, as Lopez gathered the items on the pedestals. “Babe, I think we need your magic hands.”
His wife smiled, putting her laptop away, slinging it over her shoulder. She joined Ki at the wall, trying to trigger any kind of escape path.
“I do not understand who this Ameil is,” Cristoval complained, following Rebecca as she tried to find a way out of here.
“He was Judas’ nephew and very close to Jesus’ family. At times, he traveled with Judas and Jesus.”
“I have never heard of him,” Cristoval huffed. “How can you be certain it is him and not Christ?”
“First off, I think if Jesus had written this he would have used the first person pronoun. ‘I,’ not Jesus and there is no one else in the world who would have known these anecdotes except Judas or his nephew.”
“Then why might it not be Judas who wrote this bible?” Cristoval asked.
Not a bad question, but Rebecca couldn’t answer it. Not under these circumstances. She really didn’t need the cultist having a meltdown.
“Look it is a long story,” Brandt protested. “Which we will be more than happy to explain to you, once we get out of here. Rebecca?”
Within moments of going back to her task, Rebecca hit a symbol and a stone door creaked open. There it was. You could always count on her. And look at that. She didn’t even get ditched into a tunnel or anything. A banner day.
“Let’s move out,” Brandt said, but for some reason Lopez was stuck in his tracks and Ki brought his weapon to bear.
Slowly as the crack above his head extended from one side to the other, Brandt turned around.
It was Bridget, holding up a gun. “I don’t think so. I can’t allow those artifacts to fall into your hands.”
“There’s always a mole,” Lopez said, shaking his head.
* * *
Bunny could tell that Stark was struggling with his task. Action-y stuff wasn’t exactly his forte.
“Okay, look at the assets you have around you. Find the fastest, most efficient mode of transportation,” Bunny suggested.
“Kind of like a wheelbarrow and a Doomsday cloak?” Stark teased.
Bunny wasn’t familiar with the reference, but Cama on the far side of the desk chuckled. “Nice one,” the lingerie model explained. “Princess Bride.”
Dear God, why was this woman still here? Couldn’t she take a hint that they didn’t need her? And Bunny would have gotten Princess Bride in a few minutes anyway… with a few more hints.
“Focus,” Bunny directed Stark, mainly to stop him from smiling back to the model. “What options do we have?”
Stark groaned. “Who knew I’d miss Lopez so much.”
“Options, Stark,” Bunny snapped. He worked better under pressure. A grunt from Brandt could make Stark perform miracles.
“I think… I think that Lopez is going to have to steal a police car,” Stark said.
“Isn’t that going to be a little obvious?” Bunny suggested.
“Yes, but I’m not freaking Lopez, so that’s the best I can do.”
“You know what?” Stark’s mom said. “I think I’ve got an out-of-the-box idea.”
“Enough out of the box for Lopez?”
Stark’s mom shrugged. “I think so.”
“Then stop talking and do it,” Bunny said. She didn’t even want to know what it was at this point. They just needed a super crazy plan B.
Crackling came over the line. Garbled shouts and the horrible, horrible sound of rock cracking. Dear God, Bunny knew that sound well. Too well.
That was the sound of a cave-in.
Clearly, the team wasn’t out of danger yet.
One voice came over loudest. Lopez’s. “Fort…drones…now!”
Bunny turned to Stark. He didn’t seem to understand what Lopez meant either.
Stark’s mother smiled, pumping her fist. “Nailed it!”
Lopez was rubbing off on that woman a little too much.
“Nailed what?”
“I’m hacking into the Air Force base. They are a depository for drones being sent to the Middle East.”
“So they are armed?” Bunny asked. “Brandt is not going to let us fire live missiles at law enforcement.”
“Oh, Lopez doesn’t want to use them offensively,” Stark’s mother said. “He wants to use them as transportation.”
Bunny didn’t even know what that meant.
* * *
Rebecca watched as her husband stepped between Bridget and everyone else. Of course he would try to block the traitor. That’s what her husband did.
Ki tried to step next to him. There was no shortage of heroes in this room. Lopez would be moving forward next.
It was still hard for Rebecca to believe this otherwise charming young lady was a mole. But then again that’s how she’d thought of Davidson before it was revealed he was a member of a cult. But had that been his true self? Rebecca didn’t think so.
Bridget no longer looked like Bridget. Her forehead was crinkled with lines, as her forehead creased in worry. Her cheeks were bright red and those glacial blue eyes were barely recognizable, as her eyelids were closed down to slits.
Her jaws clenched up and down, as she held her gun out aggressively.
“Bridget,” Brandt said, letting her name hang in the air. The only other sound was that of the
rock moaning around them. This cave wasn’t going to last long.
Now their lives depended on Brandt talking Bridget down.
“What? Now are you going to try to invoke my uncle?” Bridget said, a little screechy to be honest.
“You know him. You know he wouldn’t want this.”
“What do you know of him? Nothing,” Bridget spat. “He couldn’t even tell you who he really was, and you want to use his memory as a shield?”
“I wish he’d trusted me enough, Bridget, I truly do. His sexuality didn’t matter. All that mattered was the brave, loyal, courageous man he was.”
Bridget’s eyes flooded with tears. Her light blue pupils seemed to float on water as if they were formed in a fjord. “You killed him,” she accused, sounding far less sure of herself.
Brandt took a step forward. Bridget brought the gun level again. Brandt didn’t push it.
“Bridget for many years I blamed myself, and trust me, I wish it was me that had taken that bullet instead of your uncle.”
Rebecca knew her husband meant it, but she couldn’t imagine life without him. What would the kids do? How could the child in her belly grow up, never knowing his father?
“But then I remembered, Bridget,” Brandt went on. “Svengurd died doing what he loved and I know, I know in my bones, Bridget, that he has forgiven me. Even forgiven Davidson.”
“Don’t ever say his name. Your sniper betrayed my uncle and left me a true orphan. A girl without a home.”
Rebecca looked to Brandt. Yes, Bridget’s parents were killed in a car accident years before and Svengurd had stepped up as a guardian, but Bridget had her maternal grandparents, didn’t she? Brandt had checked in to make sure Bridget was well cared for.
“But your grandparents?” Brandt asked trying to edge forward, but Bridget waved the gun in his face. The room was crumbling around them. If they didn’t get out of there soon, like right now, they were going to be crushed in the cave-in.
“After losing their daughter, then their only son? They retreated into their grieving. Finally, needing me to take care of them, rather than the other way around. Once the authorities found out, they sent me to live with my cousin in Peru. A diplomat, but also a member of the Brotherhood.”
The 3rd Cycle of the Betrayed Series Collection: Extremely Controversial Historical Thrillers (Betrayed Series Boxed set) Page 43
