by Rick Jones
Both guns, again, went off as flashes lit the area enough to light up the feral looks in both their eyes, the bullets instead striking vases, photos, a mirror—everything but their intended target.
Then the assassin caught the wrist of Dennison’s gun hand and gave it a vicious twist, which caused Dennison to bark out in pain and to drop his weapon, which the assassin quickly kicked aside. But the CIA operative was decisively quick as he came up with his knee and connected with the Bangladeshi’s midsection, knocking air from his lungs. Seizing the moment, Dennison grabbed the assassin and flipped him over his shoulder, the assassin hitting the floor hard and losing the gun. Then as the Bangladeshi lay there with his head in an obvious fog and perhaps seeing internal stars, Dennison cocked his fist and rammed it downward. But the assassin cocked his head to the side, a swift movement, with Dennison’s hand coming down hard against the hardwood floor. Bones cracked as Dennison immediately felt the electric charge of white-hot pain race up his arm and to his shoulder.
It was all the time Purakayastha needed as he rammed a fist to the point of Dennison’s chin, which knocked the operator off him. As the CIA operative staggered to his feet with the angles of his fingers in an odd display, the bones obviously broken, the operator then used his legs and feet as weapons. He threw straight and roundhouse kicks, all which were easily deflected by Amal Purakayastha. Then as the fight made its way into the hallway, and then into the main area where the laptop was, as furniture was being turned over with blows being exchanged, and with Dennison using his feet and Purakayastha using his hands, it was Purakayastha who discovered the advantage over his opponent by giving Dennison three bone-crunching jabs to the ribs.
As Dennison fell to a bended knee and began to cough up blood, with the fight in him lost, Purakayastha went to the laptop and removed the card before it was able to upload the entirety of its contents, then snapped the card in half.
“Too late,” Dennison manage to say as he smiled at Purakayastha with teeth that were coated with blood. “It went through.”
“Some went through,” Purakayastha remarked. “But not enough to stop the cause, this I am sure of.”
Quickly crossing the distance between them, Purakayastha grabbed Dennison by his collar, lifted him to his feet, and ran him to the broken window that overlooked the city. Raising his badly twisted fingers and swollen knuckles as if to ward off what was coming, Purakayastha pitched the CIA operative through the window and to the street below, where Dennison landed with the sound of a ripe melon hitting the pavement.
Purakayastha, after retrieving his weapon, calmly exited the building before the authorities could arrive.
CHAPTER FIVE
One of the main jurisdictional duties of the CIA within the Directorate of Intelligence is to use internal experts to analyze data that had been collected by its operatives. When Carl Dennison began to forward the encrypted data to the Directorate’s mainframe, the facts were fragmented and then fractured, the inpour suddenly cut off for reasons unknown to the heads of the Directorate of Operations. Upon further investigation, Dennison apparently took a spill from the twenty-fifth floor of his hotel. The theorized consensus was that Dennison had compromised his position and had paid dearly for his transgressions against his targeted subjects.
Unable to piece together a complete account of the terms negotiated between Abesh Faruk and Zahid Ahmadi, the best they could do was to hypothesize a development based on the intel fragments they received. Faruk was an arms dealer and Ahmadi a lieutenant with the Islamic State, the two meeting in Turkey with the discussion relying on three critical points: the golden calf; potential target sites with Israel caught within the crosshairs, though the reason was unclear as to why; and mentions of one-kiloton yields, most likely the use of nuclear weapons. But since the message relayed was fragmented and had a deciphering factor of correctness of less than twenty percent, it couldn’t go unheeded either. The intel had also been sent to agencies such as the Mossad, MI6, Germany’s BND, France’s DGSI, and other allied agencies. The immediate consensus was the same amongst all: ISIS was most likely planning a nuclear strike against Israel with the operational codename ‘The Golden Calf,’ which would turn out not to be the case at all but at the time a majority agreement, nonetheless.
The Vatican, however, after intercepting the communication, knew exactly what the information was by putting together certain words within the puzzle to make an entire picture. The first mention was the ‘Jabal al-Lawz Mountain range.’ The second was the ‘golden calf.’ And the last piece was ‘one-kiloton yield,’ an obvious reference to a nuclear weapon, even though searches for missing plutonium-239 or uranium-235 were not recorded anywhere. So, the assumption was that Faruk had managed to retrieve Cold War ‘pocket nukes,’ which also had a variety of other names such as suitcase bombs, suitcase nukes, backpack nukes and mini-nukes, all which were tactical nuclear weapons that were suitcase portable as its delivery method, with each weapon containing a one-kiloton yield. But these, too, were assumptions. What was not conjecture, however, were the mentions of the mountain range and the golden calf. These remarks were about location and an item in question.
In the Jabal al-Lawz Mountain range lay the treasure of the golden calf, a Biblical icon believed to have been lost or destroyed much like the Holy Grail or the Ark of the Covenant. What Abesh Faruk and Zahid Ahmadi were negotiating were the terms of a trade: the golden calf for nuclear weapons.
Using this information, Pope Pius XIV called into council the Society of Seven, the leading cardinals who decided upon the missions of the Vatican Knights. And it would be within this council of clerics to determine if the mission of intervening in such matters was in accordance to either protecting the interests or sovereignty of the church, or to protect the welfare of its citizenry, in order for the Vatican Knights to be sent forward.
As the Cardinals were being called together from all parts of Rome to immediately convene inside the papal chamber, elsewhere, members of the Islamic State were assembling for their journey to Jabal al-Lawz in Saudi Arabia.
CHAPTER SIX
Damascus, Syria
It didn’t take long for Abesh Faruk to be true to his word about providing the necessary documentation to see the operation through. By the time Zahid Ahmadi reached Damascus later that evening, the passports needed for Ahmadi’s team to travel to Saudi Arabia had already been created and couriered to one of his lieutenants. They would travel as Islamic scholars from Jordan, Syria and Turkey, and would fly out of Damascus International Airport.
Including Ahmadi, there would be eight members in his unit who were skilled operators that had fought in skirmishes in Afghanistan and northern Syria.
Spreading the passports on a table in front of him like a deck of cards, Ahmadi considered the venture. Once in Saudi Arabia, Faruk would provide them with the transport necessary to the base of Jabal Maqla, the mountain believed to house the golden calf. Getting to the base was one thing. Getting to the top, however, another. But his warriors were no novices to climbing hills or mountains since the highlands of Afghanistan had become their homes for months. Mounting the crags and peaks had become the norm for them, a training technique they had mastered over time. Jabal Maqla, though it had steep walls, would prove challenging but not insurmountable.
Then Ahmadi dreamed of a future that will be instead of might be. He saw himself as a grand crusader who spearheaded Allah’s cause as a chosen one, and as a prophet who would usher in a new world. As soon as he obtained the portable nuclear weapons, he would detonate them in the marked territories of Baghdad, Kuwaiti City and Riyadh, all cities dedicated to the alliance with the Great Satan. Though a one-kiloton yield had the power to level a municipality, they would not devastate the area long term as would the higher yields. Of course, there would be fallout and radiation, but hardly on a magnificent scale. People would die as collateral damage, all pawns in the larger scheme of things by becoming moral sacrifices.
> Once the smoke cleared after the detonations, international teams would scour the surfaces for remnants only to discover that the weapons were created with Israeli parts. Fingers of condemnation would rise against their Zionist adversary as a collective, with the tribes coming together to combat a foe under the principle that ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend.’ And it would be Ahmadi who would unite the people in the Middle East to rise against Israel and lead a vast army under the rule of Allah, the one and only true God.
Closing his eyes, Ahmadi envisioned himself speaking and pumping his fist before the thousands who would fill the squares to hear him talk. One Rule under One God—this would be his cry from the pulpit, his message, the man speaking with a golden tongue to move many.
When he opened his eyes and the visions gone, he realized that he had set a high goal of achievement, but one that was sustainable if the dominos fell the way they were supposed to. In his heart, he believed they would.
Gathering the passports, Zahid Ahmadi left to brief his team.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Papal Chamber.
The Apostolic Palace.
Vatican City.
After Vatican Intelligence intercepted intel regarding the Biblical mountain chain of the Jabal al-Lawz range, along with a mention of the golden calf, Pope Pius XIV called into council his most respected cardinals, the Society of Seven, who finally congregated to discuss possible involvement to neutralize the Islamic State’s attempt to profit from the procurement of the idol.
The room was spacious with floor-to-ceiling drapes, all which were scarlet with gold scalloped edges that covered the tall windows. The floor was made of the finest Italian marble, all smoky veined. And the desk he sat behind was ornately designed with the carvings of cherubs and angels. At the opposite side of the room was a balcony that opened to offer a rich view of St. Peter’s Square.
The six cardinals, those who were mandatorily dressed in their zucchetto and simar for the occasion, sat before the pontifical desk in a half-moon arrangement of chairs.
An eighth man, who sat aside from the Society of Seven was Father Auciello, one of the co-directors of Vatican Intelligence. He was a tall and lanky individual whose skin had the color of tanned leather that contrasted with his pewter-colored hair.
The pontiff leaned forward over his desk and clasped his hands together in an attitude of prayer that was more out of habit than a gesture of divine invocation under the circumstances. “You’ve all been called here,” he began, “for reasons that concern the golden calf and its possible recovery from a hidden lair upon Jabal Maqla, or the Burned Mountain.” The look on the pontiff’s face held an overlying concern that appeared to have aged him dramatically, if not exponentially, with the lines appearing deeper and more web-like. “I’ve called you here with a sense of urgency regarding a situation where a terrorist faction may have bartered weapons for the transfer of the golden calf. Though the data was somewhat fragmented, we were able to piece together most of the intel into a workable theory that leans toward verity. The CIA and its counterparts believe that the cell is negotiating a price for nuclear weapons to use against Israel, with the code name of the operation to be known as ‘The Golden Calf.’”
“But you believe differently.” When Cardinal Savarino stated this from his seat, it wasn’t a question but a statement.
The pontiff nodded, then said, “I’ll let Father Auciello take over from here. He’s more familiar with the data than I am.” He turned to the co-director of Vatican Intelligence and offered him the floor. “Father.”
Father Auciello thanked the pontiff before opening a manila folder on his lap, and then referring to his notes. “There were key mentions in the data to suggest that a man by the name of Abesh Faruk, a known arms dealer, and Zahid Ahmadi, an ISIS chief, were negotiating a quid-pro-quo exchange. One of the key words expressed was the mention of the Jabal al-Lawz mountain range. Though the CIA and its counterpart agencies, like the Mossad and MI6, were unable to attach a workable reason behind this reference, Vatican Intelligence did because the mountain range has Biblical significance regarding the golden calf, another key importance that was mentioned between the two. ‘The Golden Calf’ is not a code name for a future strike against Israel. What they were talking about was an exchange of the golden calf for low-yield nuclear weapons small enough to be portable. It is possible, however, that Israel could be the target, but we’re not quite sure of that yet.”
Cardinal Adonis, a large man with doughy features, gave off a quizzical look. “But the golden calf was destroyed and broken down for the Israelites to drink as penance.”
“As was recorded in the Bible and other resources,” the pontiff interjected. “But there are other tomes and parchments, some of which we have in our own Archives, to suggest that the golden calf was buried inside a cavern on top of Jabal Maqla, in Saudi Arabia.” Closing the manila folder, Father Auciello continued to proffer intel. “A couple of weeks ago,’ he said, “there was a break-in at the St. Catherine’s Monastery. Six guards were killed by someone who, at least on camera, displayed skills with high-end military sophistication. He took nothing, no relics. But he took photos of the Chronicles believed to have been written by Moses who outlined the hardships of the Israelites as they crossed the desert. It is also believed that the interpretations within these pages of hieroglyphic Hebrew also contained the precise location of the golden calf.”
“I know that most believe that Mount Sinai is in Egypt,” stated Cardinal Anturro, “But are we sure about the interpretations?”
The pontiff nodded. “All three tomes of the major religions—the Bible, Torah and the Koran—detail the same story of Moses’ journey of the Exodus. He follows a ‘column of smoke by day and a pillar of fire by night.’ What is cited here is that Moses was following the spume of an active volcano, his guiding light. Now we know that there are six volcanoes in Saudi Arabia, with one volcano—which has been scientifically proven—to be active during the Exodus. Just one. And that volcano is within the Jabal al-Lawz Mountain range. There have also been declarations of the Altar of Moses on Jabal Maqla, where he attended the Burning Bush. The correlation of the Burning Bush and the active volcano, we believe, is the connection of the real Mount Sinai. And it is our belief that Abesh Faruk had deciphered the documents inside of Saint Catherine’s Monastery, and is now using what he had discovered to be the guidelines for Ahmadi’s terrorist cell to locate, and then excavate, the idol, should it exist.”
“And if it does exist,” Father Auciello stated to the cardinals, “we believe the agreement between the two is a tradeoff. The golden calf for portable nuclear weapons that can be transported about in something as simple as a suitcase.”
“And if they don’t discover the golden calf?” asked Cardinal Anturro.
“Then I assume that the transaction would become null and void,” answered Father Auciello. “But that’s not for certain. At this point, it’s only conjecture. But can you imagine the atrocity that can be borne from this if the golden calf did exist and we sit by and do nothing. Maybe Israel is within the crosshairs of future strikes. Or maybe it’s something different, something that hasn’t been fully communicated to the CIA before their transmission was suddenly suspended.”
“Terrorist plots against the sovereignties beyond the Vatican,” Cardinal Ranocchia stated, “are not a part of the criteria to mobilize the Vatican Knights. That is purely a governmental matter that is to be addressed by the governments themselves. We do not place ourselves within the circle of another government’s situation outside of providing information, which I’m sure the Mossad has by now.”
“That’s true, my good cardinal,” said the pontiff. “However, if not for the golden calf, would we still have no culpability should the Biblical relic be used to promote the agenda?”
Cardinal Ranocchia appeared to mull this over.
“After all,” the pontiff continued, “the golden calf is a dark treasure w
ith Biblical ties that are attached to the church.”
“I see,” Cardinal Ranocchia returned. “So, to fall under the parameters in which to send forward the Vatican Knights—”
“Then we must view this as an interest of the church,” the pope answered. “Which, in my opinion, it is, in order to stop a clear and present danger. The golden calf cannot fall into the hands of a terrorist faction, so that it can be bartered away for nuclear devices. And remember: the Islamic State does not fight for the love of their God; they fight for the love of carnage. We have a responsibility here.”
After a lengthy discussion, it was decided that the Vatican Knights, who were to be led by Kimball Hayden, would be dispatched to Jabal Maqla in Saudi Arabia in search of the golden calf.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Vatican City
There is an African proverb that goes: If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together. It was also something Kimball Hayden wholly believed in as a team concept. After being informed by the pontiff of his latest mission to Saudi Arabia, Kimball decided upon a five-man team for the operation, and the Vatican Knights whom he could go ‘far’ with under the most stringent conditions. Isaiah and Jeremiah were his mainstays, the supports that made him whole as an elite operator, since a person was only as good as the team around him. He also decided upon Joshua, the big man from Germany whose strength would be needed to hoist and carry the relic, should it exist. And he would also need Roman, an explosive specialist who would carve a path into the mountainside with the use of Semtex, a powerful plastique.
