Almost in slow motion, several of the others in the crowd looked at the woman and then followed her gaze to both girls.
“It’s them!” The woman began pointing. “It’s them! The two on the news!”
The faces of the others, staring at Christine and Sarah, flashed a look of recognition as they studied the pair closer.
“I think you’re right.” hollered a man standing behind her. He pointed along with the woman. “It’s them!”
Christine turned to see several people staring at them now. As more people turned around, more eyes widened, and the same phrase was repeated, louder. “It’s them!”
Christine grabbed Sarah’s hand tighter and rushed after Rand who was now pushing through the mass of people with Avery.
More and more people turned to follow the noise which finally reached three policemen on a nearby street corner. The officers looked up and peered over the crowd to see people shouting, and something or someone surging forward through everyone.
Rand stopped and put a hand on Avery. He could see three uniformed officers approaching. He turned and looked over Christine’s head at the crowd behind them, and found two more officers trying to get through from the rear. He spotted a small storefront less than twenty feet away and grabbed Christine and Sarah, pushing them forward toward the building. It was a small dentist’s office which appeared to be closed.
Rand kept the girls back and kicked in one of the tall narrow windows. Instantly, an alarm began shrieking from inside as Rand jumped through and reached back out for Sarah. He then ran toward the back of the dark office with Christine and Avery right behind him.
Less than a minute later, the officers reached the front and flattened themselves against the gray wall on both sides of the broken window. With guns drawn, one officer quickly leaned out and peered through the broken pane then ducked back. He immediately did it again, taking a longer look. He pulled back again and looked at the other officers, shaking his head. One by one, they began jumping in through the window and over the broken glass.
Rand reached the back of the office and opened the back door, which led into a long, white maintenance hallway, connecting a string of neighboring offices. He spotted the large exit sign at the end of the hall, hanging above a large metal door. With Sarah still in his arms, he glanced over his shoulder to make sure Christine and Avery were still behind him and ran the length of the hallway.
The door at the end of the complex opened out near the street, which like the others, were crowded with even more people. Some of them were standing just a few steps away and turned, curious when they noticed the door behind them opening.
Rand peered outside and scanned the crowd.
Sarah, suddenly squeezed his neck and began screaming when she saw several shadows change color in front of them. “BLACK! BLACK! BLACK!”
In the moment Sarah screamed, Rand recognized someone across the street who spotted them and immediately raised his rifle to his shoulder. It was one of the men from the Delta Force team.
Rand instantly turned to shield Sarah and grabbed the door handle, pulling it back in as quickly as he could. As it was closing, one large man slammed against the wall, lifeless, just before the door clicked shut. Immediately, large dents appeared on the inside of the door, as it became a giant shield.
Still carrying Sarah, Rand turned and looked back down the hall. He knew there was no escape without putting her at risk. She had to survive, yet any moment the officers would reach the back of the office and find the hallway they were in.
Several blocks away, Burk rushed back inside the cathedral. He, along with everyone else, heard the warning over their tiny earpieces. Gunshots fired nearby!
Burk entered through the west end of the church and ran past a large group of security agents who were running the other way. He passed the altar and the church’s famous stained glass windows and sprinted for the large sacristy. When he burst into the room, Burk found the Pope kneeling in his gold and silver striped vestment. Outside in the distance, he could hear the Vice President’s speech abruptly end as he was rushed off the large stage. Burk was certain the Secret Service already had the President in his limousine and headed away from the church.
The Pope looked up at Burk as the three Swiss Guards already in the room stepped in behind him.
“We’re evacuating,” Burk said firmly.
The Pope nodded at Burk and stood up. He could hear that something was wrong. The crowd outside was beginning to yell out questions. He could also hear shouting within the church as the various security teams scrambled to get all of the dignitaries out.
Burk looked over the Pope’s shoulder at the three guardsmen. “Benziger and Gavin are getting the others and securing a path to the car. We’ll escort him in standard two by two positions. Once we-” Burk was suddenly interrupted when four men walked into the room with AK-47 assault rifles shouldered.
Irritated, Burk turned and began to wave them away, insisting they were already moving the Pope, when he noticed the make of their guns. He jumped in shock when the men raised their rifles and fired on the three Swiss Guardsmen next to the Pope. Burk’s hand was already in motion, reaching for his sidearm when he was shot in the arm and the gun tumbled to the floor. The impact caused him to stumble backward and fall over one of the large chairs. He quickly scrambled to reach his dropped weapon with his left hand, but was shot twice more in his other shoulder.
Burk cried out and fell back onto the thick carpet. Without the use of either arm, he couldn’t reach, or even prop himself up. With his head on the floor, he quickly looked around the room and used his legs to push himself away, but he froze when Zahn stepped forward and pointed a gun at the Pope.
“Stop!” Zahn warned.
Burk stopped, but his mind was racing. He had to keep the Pope alive at all costs. He had to do something, even if that meant changing tactics. “Don’t shoot,” he cried. “You want him alive.”
Zahn watched Burk, lying on the floor with his chest heaving. He turned to Sarat standing next to him and motioned toward the door. Immediately, Sarat ran to the door and looked outside. Seeing no one, he closed and locked it, then returned to Zahn’s side with his gun raised again.
Taking a few steps toward Burk, Zahn stood over him, watching as he tried still to maneuver with two arms that didn’t work. “Mr. Dario Burk.” Zahn said with a smirk. “The famed head of the Swiss Guard.” He dropped his chin in a sympathetic gesture. “No doubt your brain is now frantically working through scenarios to keep your dear Pope alive. However, in a few minutes you’ll come to the uncomfortable and ironic conclusion that ‘throwing him to the wolves’ is your best and only option.” Zahn displayed a sick grin and watched Burk’s eyes, waiting as he desperately tried to think of any other way. After a short pause, Zahn continued. “And judging from the look of despair in your eyes, I can see that you’ve just reached that point.”
Screams could be heard now from the crowd outside as people began to panic. Zahn cocked his ear. “That doesn’t sound good,” he said sarcastically. “In fact, that sounds a lot like pandemonium. I know English is not your first language, but I suspect you know what that means.” Burk was still scanning the room looking for anything, any tool, any helpful item at all, but it was futile. He could barely move.
Zahn tried to relax. His plan had been long in coming, and he didn’t have much time, but he wanted to savor every second he could. “I imagine now you’re probably wondering how and why.” He raised his eyebrows at Burk. “Yes?” He shrugged when Burk didn’t answer. “The how was easy. Easier than you think.” He turned to the Pope, now speaking to them both. “You can thank terrorism. After all, it was the 9/11 attack on our Twin Towers that gave the United States the new enemy it so desperately needed. It gave us both an enemy and a perfect distraction for the entire world. Put enough fear into the people, and governments can do anything, least of which is to justify and expand its military empire. And that constant fear of terrorism allowed
us to do just that.” Zahn looked to the Pope then back to Burk on the floor. “Unfortunately, politicians are rather stupid, and there were terrible consequences they didn’t bother to think about. Do you know what I am referring to?” he asked, chiding him. “Why the laws, of course. Laws that called for all departments to act in tighter concert. What could go wrong?” A fiendish smile returned to his face. “Now, you lay there on the floor slowly bleeding to death and asking yourself how in the world we ever got past your security. The reason, is because we were the security.”
Sergeant Fish watched silently as Rand and Avery lay face down on the sidewalk, both bound in handcuffs. His team members stood behind him. The hysteria was still growing with more of the crowd beginning to panic and run, while the police officers tried to keep the stampede away from them and their prisoners. Fish smiled when he saw one older officer look around and then quickly kick Rand in the face with his boot. He promptly stepped back as blood began to appear on the cement under Rand’s mouth.
Fish scanned the area, looking for the woman and girl, but there was no sign of them. He knew it wouldn’t be long before the officers began to realize that neither of their prisoners on the ground could have been the one who shot into the crowd behind the building. They had to move fast, prompting Fish to step forward and show his military ID. “We have orders to investigate.”
“We’ve got it contained,” an officer growled.
Fish shrugged. “We can see that. But we still need to have a look and report back. Orders.”
“Whatever.” He motioned to the broken window. “We already searched the place.”
Fish nodded and walked past him, examining the window pane momentarily before stepping inside what appeared to be the office waiting room. The rest of his team followed, and one by one they searched all the rooms and ended at a back door leading into a maintenance hallway. Fish looked up and down the hallway, noticing the dented circles in the far door. There were several other doors in the hallway too, all connecting to other offices or store fronts in the complex. They walked up and down the hall, trying all of the door handles, starting with the doors nearest the end. They used a standard entry technique with one man forcing the door open while two more swept in behind him with guns raised.
The first two doors led to a lawyer’s office and a CPA firm. The two teams moved silently, through the various rooms and around desks, looking, but found nothing. They were undeterred. The two men had to have done something with the girls before they were taken. But what?
The next few doors led to similar businesses or empty spaces, but they found nothing. Fish knew that soon the police would be looking for them, wanting to ask more questions. He found the last door was unlocked and opened into the back of a small convenience store. The soldiers entered quietly and could hear a commotion up front which sounded like looting. There was yelling and screaming between multiple voices. Fish held up his hand for the team to stay back as he swept the back room with the barrel of his gun.
He opened a large, metal refrigerator door and stepped inside. After a few minutes, he stepped back out and shut it again quietly. On the other side of the room were columns of boxes, stacked almost to the ceiling, most of which were empty. There appeared to be little room between them for anyone to hide. He began to turn back to the door when he noticed several tall, thin CO² tanks stacked neatly in the corner. He studied them closely. With the noise increasing from the front of the store, Fish slowly stepped forward toward the tanks. Without letting go of his rifle, he wrapped his left arm around one of the tanks and pulled it forward. He then bent down and looked through the gap and into the green eyes of Christine.
The sound outside was becoming chaotic as people badly wanted out from the middle of a frightened crowd. Hundreds of security personnel tried to keep the movement orderly, but their barricades were simply getting overturned or destroyed.
Zahn leaned on the back of an upholstered chair looking at the Pope, who stared back at him. The man did not seem the least bit afraid. Zahn was impressed.
Behind him, Zahn’s men watched the Pope with disdain. Perhaps he would be more afraid if he knew, beneath the makeup these men were wearing, they were Islamists right down to their bones.
Zahn turned back to Burk on the floor, who was still fidgeting with two bad arms. The man just wouldn’t give up. “Are you wondering why yet?”
Burk did not answer. He simply stared back with a look of defiance.
“Of course you are. Let’s just say…this is payment for services rendered. A debt, if you will.”
“Listen to me,” Burk said with a strained voice. “Just keep him alive and unharmed. If you keep him unharmed, they will give you anything you ask. Anything!”
Zahn looked back to the Pope and then raised his eyebrows at Burk. “Oh, I know.”
46
The death of the Pope was absolutely devastating. It was as if the entire world cried out at once. Millions of people simply burst into tears or fell to their knees, shocked at the news. Hospitals were packed with people who had collapsed or fainted, and from almost every developed country in the world came reports of people who had fallen dead right where they stood.
Brazil and Mexico, the two most populous catholic countries, suffered a nationwide freeze when almost no one showed up for work. Instead, the churches were overwhelmed with mourners. Italy fared even worse where in Rome the utter shock resulted in an eerie silence of nearly three million people. In Vatican City, the long held tradition of closing the papal apartment and destroying the Fisherman’s ring following a pope’s death seemed to be forgotten.
His death was horrific enough, but murder was beyond all comprehension. And while the devastation was unimaginable, the retribution was immense. Millions of Catholics immediately blamed the entire Middle East, including anyone with relations to them, even those who simply shared their skin color.
Worst still, no one had any idea who had done it. It had happened during the hysteria in New York, where Pope Pius and the entire Swiss Guard team responsible for protecting him were slaughtered. Every possible security department within the United States was scrambling for clues or information. It had happened quickly and in the church’s sacristy, the chamber reserved for formal preparation. But during the mania, no one had seen anyone enter or exit the room. Never had the world demanded answers so forcefully and with such little information available.
Zahn took a drink of his scotch and leaned back into his chair. He flipped between news stations thoroughly reveling in the absolute chaos that was unfolding. It was even more delightful than he’d dreamed. After years of planning, it had gone off without a hitch. Without a single hitch. Doing something like this without a serious problem was virtually impossible, and it left him feeling as though he was destined for it.
He thought back over the two decades it had taken him to bring all of it to fruition. Years spent at the Department of Defense, the National Security Agency, and finally the State Department, all critical in arranging and achieving the greatest attack on the “church” ever imagined. So great was the impact, that talk spread around the world of the ancient Crusades and whether a war between Christianity and Islam had reignited.
The television screen showed scene after scene from around the globe of people sobbing, unable to believe it. And in the end, it was all due to one man, a man who had just changed the world forever.
Finally, Zahn smiled when he thought of the bonus, the second prize that clearly proved his destiny. He had the girl too. In fact, he had both her and the woman aboard the very plane he sat on. He wondered if it could get any better.
Kia Sarat approached with a serious face.
“Well?” Zahn asked.
“Iman put them both out,” Sarat replied.
“And it will last the whole way?”
“He is sure it will.”
“Good.” Zahn sat thinking for a few moments and then finally nodded. He then looked up at Sarat and raised his glass. “Care
for a drink to celebrate?”
Sarat did not appreciate the humor. Zahn knew he did not drink. Alcohol was a poison and nothing more. He disregarded the comment and decided to let Zahn boast. After all, it was a great accomplishment. Something no one else could have done.
“We will be out of US airspace in two hours,” Sarat said.
Zahn took a sip of his scotch. Two hours. And then he would never see the United States again. He felt no emotional loss at all. It was just a country, and by the time they figured everything out, it would be too late.
“Tell the pilots they’re on radio silence. They’re not to respond to anyone, for any reason!”
“They will respond to no one.”
Their new home was Argentina. A beautiful country, ruled by a blatantly corrupt government, which was just what he wanted. He sure as hell didn’t want to be in the northern hemisphere. “Are we sure we have everyone?”
“Everyone is aboard,” Sarat replied. “Soon, we’ll be home free.”
Zahn smiled and took another sip. Home free. That phrase had always seemed a little ironic to him.
Rand thought about his decision and prayed. He simply didn’t have a choice; he couldn’t risk Sarah’s life. And it was clear something had changed. Whoever wanted Sarah was no longer trying to kill her; they wanted to capture her. Ever since the elevator bomb, they had not shot or attacked until after Rand had. He prayed again and hoped, more importantly, that she and Christine had escaped.
He had no idea where Avery was, somewhere close most likely. Rand hoped he was still alive, as he himself lay on the floor barely able to breath. His entire body was black and blue, a keepsake from the guards after they learned where and why he was arrested.
Something bad had happened. What it was, he didn’t know, but it was clear they blamed him for it. Rand tried to open either one of his eyes but couldn’t. He tried to remain as still as possible. Every part of his body screamed in pain, and he could feel bones broken, but what frightened him the most were the injuries inside. Each breath felt like a knife slicing through his abdomen, and it felt like it was getting worse.
Amid the Shadows Page 20
