The Lucifer Code (2010)

by Charles Brokaw

  Lourds’ hands trembled with excitement as he opened the cylinder.

  Central Business District

  King Abdullah Economic City, Saudi Arabia

  24 March 2010

  Anticipation filled Webster as he watched the helicopters descend on the oilfield. The private security team

  Saudi forces battled what Webster assumed were Shia forces. The helicopter pilots opened fire with heavy machine guns and killed them all indiscriminately.

  ‘Do we have someone there?’ Vicky DeAngelo demanded as she watched the attack. ‘You’ve got an international incident taking shape right now and I’m having to watch on WNN News! That is not what I pay you for!’

  Webster walked back to Spider. ‘Who’s in the helicopters?’

  Spider smiled slyly. ‘Them cowboys belong to Carnahan Oil. They’re the same bunch that settled the labour dispute in those West African companies a few years back.’

  Webster remembered the story. Carnahan Oil was known for riding roughshod over Third World countries they did business with. In Africa, the way the oil business generally worked was cutthroat. Once oil was discovered, the politicians – or king – struggled to keep as much money as possible. All the while, they promised to spread the wealth. When the average citizen noticed that the wealth wasn’t being spread, they usually went on strike. Then the king, or politicians, called in the military to break up the strike and get the oil pumping again. Problems started when the military started thinking they were taking all the risks and not getting paid nearly enough. Then a coup took place, and the leaders were replaced by a

  During the West African debacle, Carnahan Oil had sent in their shock troops. Regretfully they weren’t able to save the king, and shot the oppressive dictator dead in the throne room. They put their own person in charge, spread a little more wealth to the citizens, and cut out the middleman.

  Almost overnight, the paradigm for doing oil business in West Africa changed. No longer did the bulk of the profits go to the country that owned the oil. Now it went to those able to extract it.

  Across the room, Tristan Hamilton cheered the arrival of the helicopters.

  ‘Elliott,’ the president called over the phone.

  ‘I’m here, Mike. As you can tell, the problems over here are multiplying.’

  ‘You need to get out of there,’ Waggoner said. ‘Once everyone knows Americans are over there pulling this kind of crap, the Saudis and the Shia are going to retaliate.’

  ‘Not just me, Mike. We’ve got to find a way to get us all home.’

  ‘All right,’ Waggoner said. ‘Let me get together with the Pentagon and see what they can put together. You stay healthy till I get back to you, do you hear me?’

  ‘I do. I will.’ Webster looked at the television then at the wall of glass, catching his own flickering reflection in the fires burning in the city. ‘We’ll come through this okay, Mike. You’ll see.’

  Vicky used the remote control to change channels on the television. Once she had it back on her network, she seemed more relaxed. Her people were more deeply entrenched in the oilfield confrontation than the reporters from WNN News. Webster wouldn’t be surprised if there was another fatality. He was certain Vicky DeAngelo was counting on that.

  ‘That was the president?’ Vicky asked. She didn’t miss much, especially when she was in hyper mode.

  ‘It was.’

  ‘He wants to get you out of here?’

  ‘Yes, he does.’

  ‘But you are not going to go?’ Vicky looked up at him.

  ‘You’re in the news business. You want to tell me how you would present a story about the Vice-President of the United States deserting a country where hundreds of his fellow citizens were left in danger?’

  Her smile was cold enough to adorn a morgue. ‘Truth to tell, Mr Vice-President, I’d crucify you.’

  ‘Now there’s a particularly gruesome death.’ Webster smiled in remembrance.

  ‘So you’re staying here.’

  ‘How would you feel if I left you behind?’

  ‘I’d crucify you twice.’

  Webster smiled.

  ‘I have to admit that I’m somewhat irked at your lack of willingness to be rescued.’

  ‘Because if you get rescued, I get rescued too. Seems pretty selfish of you to decide we can all die here.’

  ‘We’re not going to die here.’

  ‘How would you know?’

  ‘Because I would.’

  Vicky looked at him, new understanding and suspicion dawning in her eyes. ‘Waggoner’s going to do it, isn’t he? He’s going to try to get us out of here.’

  ‘Are you going to quote me on this?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then yes. He is going to try to get us out of here.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Soon.’

  Vicky looked back through the window at the burning city. ‘Well, he’d better not be late.’

  Webster threw an arm round her and pulled her close. No matter how much Vicky DeAngelo liked to pretend she was captain of her own fate, she lived with fear. Everyone on the planet did. Of course, they didn’t know what real fear was. Yet. But when the time came, if they didn’t align themselves with Webster, he intended to show them. At that moment, a bolt of pure cold lanced Webster’s heart. He swayed for a moment and nearly fell. He forced himself to remain on his feet and the feeling went away.

  Vicky looked at him with concern. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Of course.’ Webster smiled at her reassuringly. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

  But he knew what had happened. Someone had found that cursed scroll that John of Patmos had written. He left Vicky and retreated to the corner. He took his sat-phone out of his pocket and called Eckart’s number.

  ‘You haven’t found them.’

  ‘Not yet,’ Eckart replied. ‘We will. It’s just a matter of time.’

  ‘They’ve found the scroll.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘I don’t know. If I did, I would’ve sent you there first.’ Webster made himself relax and take the edge out of his voice. If they had found the scroll, it meant that Lourds had broken the language the Brotherhood of the Scroll had developed.

  One of the languages anyway.

  For thousands of years, the plan had been in effect. Even the Brotherhood of the Scroll had been breached in the end. Constantine had been but the beginning. He had helped foster the paranoia inside the Brotherhood, making them aware of how vulnerable their knowledge was. God had created man to be open, to have no secrets. God didn’t have secrets. That was one thing man had not understood. And that was why the serpent was so successful in the Garden of Eden. The serpent had encouraged Adam and Eve to know the things that not even God would have been able to explain to them. The serpent had known, but not even the serpent could have explained God’s ways.

  All it had taken was the suggestion that there were things God did not want man to know. The rift had started then and had not ended.

  ‘Find them,’ Webster ordered. ‘And when you do, kill them.’

  ‘What about professor?’

  ‘Kill him too. I no longer care to know what he knows. Kill him and bring the scroll to me.’ Webster put the phone back in his pocket.

  In all his plans, he had never factored in someone as gifted – or as lucky – as Professor Thomas Lourds. Now the man’s skills were going to earn him nothing more than an early grave.

  Passage of Omens

  Hagia Sophia Underground

  Istanbul, Turkey

  25 March 2010

  In the steady, golden candlelight, Lourds translated the scroll and read it aloud.

  Let it be known that this is the last writing of John, also known as John of Patmos. I am an old man, and I am come willingly to the end of my days. I write now under no threat of coercion only what the Lord my God would have me write.

  I came to this island to spend my final days in

  I was there when Jesus r
eturned to us the first time, and I saw myself the holes in his blessed hands and his blessed feet. We were not all believers. It changed me to admit this, but we were not. Even after everything we had seen him do, after we had seen him walk on stormy waters, after we had seen him raise the dead, we could not easily believe he had risen after dying so painfully.

  As hard as it had been to watch him die, it was harder still to watch him take his leave of us. And more difficult again to take our leave from each other.

  Many of us are dead now. In fact, I believe myself to be the last of his chosen alive, and that won’t last much longer.

  You have read my visions of what is to come, of the seven years that will plague those who do not truly believe. But I have not revealed everything that will pass.

  There will come a day when the Great Deceiver will rise to power among men. He will pass among you as one of your own and you will know him not. He will have practised to be one of you. He will be born unto woman, but he will be darkly evil. In those End Times you will not recognize evil as surely as you may think. But when you know the Devil, know also that no weapon made by human hand will truly destroy him.

  The Joy Scroll has, like the writing that has led you here and given you these secrets been written in another language. Four keys to this language have been hidden in the places in the mosaics. Together, they will give you enough information to decipher the Joy Scroll.

  Now, please forgive me for I am very weary and wish only to see my Master in all his Glory. God be with you and reward you with his mercies.

  Lourds looked up from the scroll. ‘That’s all there is. Except for the second scroll.’

  The second scroll had been wrapped in the first. True to John of Patmos’s words, Lourds hadn’t been able to read the second scroll.

  Joachim looked at the wall behind Lourds. ‘These places then.’

  Lourds looked at the mosaics as well. ‘These places. And with everyone pursuing us.’

  With a smile, Joachim turned to him. ‘Now you will find your faith, Professor Lourds. With all that is arrayed against us, I think we can agree that we will not get through this alone.’

  I don’t know if we’re going to get through this alive, much less alone, Lourds thought.

  Basilica Cistern

  Hagia Sophia Underground

  Istanbul, Turkey

  25 March 2010

  ‘How are we supposed to get the Medusa head to turn over?’ Cleena asked.

  They stood once more in the huge room filled with stone columns. Every sound they made echoed throughout the building.

  ‘With this,’ Lourds said. He held up the first scroll and showed them the end. He had been puzzling over it since he’d first seen it. Now he felt certain that it was a key. But where was the keyhole?

  ‘Here,’ Olympia called. She’d evidently deduced what the rod was going to be used for as well.

  Lourds walked round to her on the other side of the Medusa head. She aimed her light at a crevice between a pair of snakes sprouting from the Medusa’s head. Sliding the rod into the crevice, Lourds felt the channel bottom out. He turned the rod and heard tumblers click. The Medusa head vibrated as mechanisms inside slid into place. Four snakes elongated and became a pedestal. Stone ground against stone as the snake legs took the weight of the head and allowed it to flip upside down.

  Lourds watched in amazement. A moment later, what had been a seamless forehead split open and revealed a gap that held a gold ring with a four-inch span. As the noise died away, Lourds reached for the

  ‘What is it?’ Joachim asked as he joined Lourds.

  Lourds fingered the notches cut into the ring. ‘Part of a device that, hopefully, will prove to be a Rosetta Stone.’

  ‘Are you certain?’ Olympia asked.

  ‘I am,’ Lourds said, ‘unless John of Patmos intended to have a final joke at the expense of this world.’ He put the ring carefully in a protective pouch inside his backpack. Then he took the rod from the Medusa head. Another series of grinding noises took place in the Medusa head as it once more turned upside down and locked into place beneath the stone column above it.

  ‘Do you think Constantine knew about the Medusa’s head?’ Olympia asked.

  ‘I do,’ Lourds answered. ‘His hand has been in everything we’ve touched so far.’

  ‘He kept his secrets very well.’

  Lourds silently agreed. Then he shouldered his backpack and headed out.

  ‘Getting across the borders while we’re being hunted isn’t going to be easy,’ Joachim said.

  ‘Really?’ Lourds acted surprised. ‘Then isn’t it lucky that we have a professional smuggler with a network of travel coordinators for contraband along with us?’

  Olympia scowled. ‘Don’t act like you planned this, Thomas,’ she said quietly. ‘I know very well why you allowed that young woman to come with us.’

  ‘Well, she is quite handy with weapons.’

  Olympia said something completely unladylike.

  Arch of the Four Winds

  Villa Doria Pamphili

  Rome, Italy

  3 April 2010

  ‘Thomas! Over here!’

  Feeling beat up from the last few days of travel and all the stress he’d been under since they’d left Istanbul, Lourds didn’t see his old friend and mentor for a moment. He stopped and stood still, looking for any unfriendly movement around him.

  ‘You’re clear, Professor.’ Cleena’s voice echoed in Lourds’ ear canal.

  Although he’d worn the earwig for the last week or so, he still wasn’t used to the device or the need for it.

  Father Gabriel Madeiro sat on a bench in the shade of a copse of trees. He was a short man, but filled with boundless energy. He was almost as wide as he was tall and his hair and beard had gone snow white so that they stood out against his dark skin. He closed the fat book he was reading and used a thick forefinger to mark his place. Lourds knew without seeing the cover that it would be a thriller. Father Gabriel had

  When he got close enough, Father Gabriel grabbed Lourds in a powerful bear hug for a moment and lifted him clear off his feet. In his sixties, Father Gabriel remained a powerful man.

  ‘It’s so good to see you,’ Father Gabriel said when he released Lourds. ‘I miss having you underfoot.’

  ‘Hopefully these days I wouldn’t be underfoot so much,’ Lourds said.

  ‘I don’t think you would.’ Father Gabriel waved Lourds to the bench. ‘You’re having quite the career these days. Atlantis?’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘Now that must have been exciting.’

  ‘It was.’

  ‘I read your book. Very enjoyable.’

  ‘I’m glad you thought so. I would have much rather told you the story in person.’

  ‘I would have much rather heard it in person.’ Father Gabriel lifted his shoulders and let them drop. ‘Unfortunately, I was doing some work in Rio de Janeiro.’

  ‘And avoiding the winter, as I recall.’ Lourds smiled, and for a moment the visit almost seemed casual. Except that he had the four rings he’d collected from Cordoba, outside Moscow, Jerusalem and Istanbul.

  ‘I missed winter, but not too terribly much.’ Father Gabriel’s dark eyes regarded Lourds speculatively.

  ‘A criminal?’ That surprised Lourds.

  Father Gabriel nodded. ‘The word I have is that you absconded from Istanbul with some very important religious artefacts.’

  ‘Do you believe that?’

  ‘Not for a minute.’

  Lourds grinned. ‘Well, actually, that part is true.’

  ‘Really?’ Father Gabriel gave him a look of mock shock.

  ‘I seem to recall a certain Roman Catholic priest—’

  ‘Who shall remain nameless.’

  ‘Who might prefer to remain nameless,’ Lourds went on, ‘who wasn’t above a bit of skulduggery now and again.’

  ‘Perhaps a toe over the line here and there.’ Father Gabriel grinned in delight.

  ‘You sh
ouldn’t have taken me along. You corrupted me.’

  ‘I didn’t corrupt you. You were sixteen—’

  ‘I was twelve,’ Lourds objected.

  ‘And your babysitter’

  ‘Au pair.’

  ‘Had already corrupted you.’ Father Gabriel tugged at his beard. ‘Or perhaps you corrupted her. I forget how that went exactly.’

  ‘It was mutual corruption,’ Lourds said. ‘She was experienced, but I was better read.’

  ‘You’re the one that left those trashy spy novels lying around.’

  Father Gabriel grinned. ‘So I did.’

  Lourds was silent for a moment. ‘I’ve missed you.’

  ‘I know,’ the old man said solemnly. ‘I’ve missed you too. The years grow shorter …’

  ‘And they move ever faster,’ Lourds finished. ‘I think I’m finally beginning to understand what you were talking about.’

  ‘Good. My efforts weren’t wasted after all. I’m relieved.’ Father Gabriel focused on Lourds. ‘How much trouble are you in?’

  ‘A stone’s throw away from the yawning mouth of hell.’

  Father Gabriel rubbed his hands together. ‘It’s been a long time since I could make any such claim. Tell me about it.’

  Seated there in the shade, with the whisper of the wind round them, knowing that Cleena MacKenna guarded him with her pistol only a short distance away and that her friend had a spy satellite watching over them, Lourds did. He told Father Gabriel about the rapid trip to Russia where the statue of the Virgin Mary wept, and how they’d found the second golden ring within one of the foundations of the church that Patriarch Nikon had purposefully placed there when he built the church. He told his friend of the journey to Jerusalem to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre where they’d discovered the third ring inside one of

  When he finished, Lourds sat back and waited to see what Father Gabriel’s reaction would be.

  ‘You think the Vice-President of the United States is Lucifer?’