After a while, Henderson simmered down. But before Emilio continued his campaign, one of the less outspoken men of the Table had something to say. He was a youthful-looking guy from Cincinnati, Ohio, named Elijah Paltrow. He descended from a long line of bishops, a man not given to much talk. Paltrow, however, was one of the most powerful men at the Table. He had been implicated in several cases of corruption; child molestation charges that have repeatedly been dropped. Two police chiefs have died mysteriously in two cases involving the man. Yet when he spoke, he did with the voice of a eunuch.
He licked his boyish lips and placed his deeply manicured hands on the Table. He looked at Emilio and asked, "What do you have in mind, Cardinal?"
He was one of the few men on Earth who still referenced Emilio this way. Emilio liked the man; Paltrow knew when his bread was going to be buttered. More importantly, he knew the butter when he saw it. He was not naïve.
Emilio leaned and said, "Some of you may not like what I'm about to say. You'll have to try to refuse the urge to compare me to Judas when he asked the Lord's permission for the expensive oil rubbed on his feet to be sold and the proceeds to be shared to the poor…"
He smiled at his little joke. The others either missed the joke or deliberately ignored it.
"So, here is what I have in mind—"
The sound of running feet rumbled on the floor, like the sound of a fallen body. All five men froze.
A tall man, a rabbi—of all people, thought Emilio—floundered into the chamber. He held the pillar at the entrance for balance and leaned on it. He started coughing and clutching at his throat. His eyes bulged. His throat hissed with the suffering of shortening breath.
"You are all in danger!" he said.
Henderson said, "Who are you?"
"One of you is about to betray the others," said the man, and Emilio thought the voice sounded familiar. But before he could examine the man further, he had bolted out of there and was gone.
All eyes turned slowly on Emilio.
—
The Hacker had on second thought gone to check on the clerics. He wanted to ensure the clerics stayed where they were having their good time beyond the main church. He was halfway through the long aisle when he heard the sound of running feet. And a fainter sound of vehicles pulling into the church grounds outside.
"Damn tourists," he mused. The clerics that had been given express orders today were out for tourism, just like it had always been.
He turned back, his powerful thighs pumping his feet into long strides.
—
What the Hacker did not know: for about three minutes now, the clerics in that room, making merry, had been replaced by a different set of men. The original clerics, priests, watched in confusion from a corner of the room.
Olivia had just sprung a dreadful tale on them.
Solomon's tomb was about to be stolen. And the thief was one of the men sitting at the table itself.
"But you will be safe if you stay here," she assured them. They nodded obediently.
She nodded, demurred reverently, and followed the men with her out of the room.
—
When the Hacker arrived in the chamber of the meeting, his mouth fell open. He looked around the chamber, at the pillars, the shadows behind them, and finally at the Table.
There was only Emilio Batolini standing there.
The flap of flesh hung from his neck like a cow’s dewlap. He was holding the back of his high-backed chair for support. And he was smiling.
"The fools, they rushed out of here. Some rabbi—" He waved dismissively. "He came shouting about—you know what, go find the fools. Finish them off like we planned and come get me when you're done."
The Hacker pulled out his gun from under his suit. He fingered the silencer. "Where are they at?"
"The Tomb place, of course."
He left so quietly. If Emilio hadn't been looking that way, he would not have known someone was standing there seconds before.
—
There was no one in the hall. No tomb, no Men of the Table.
The Hacker stepped into the hall, his eyes rolling about his head, covering all the compass's degrees. His gun held out, aimed at everything—his other hand out behind him, like a samurai.
He stopped in the middle of the hall, wondering why he had never before felt like someone was tearing at the seams of his reality.
This was a first. Someone had started a game, and even though the Hacker had been aware of this scheme earlier, he had not prepared for its magnitude.
Solomon's tomb was missing.
It was here earlier, as clear as the gun in front of him. He went around the corners of the hall. He searched behind the pillars, the small altar in the corner with the image of Mary and his baby, and all the other affectations of the heathen liturgy. He even peeked behind the large painting on the far wall near the entrance into the hall where Sheba's tomb was.
He looked that way and frowned. Tradition preached that Sheba was Solomon's wife. Fuck that, he thought. His gun still up in front, ready to shoot, he went in there.
It was even drier in there. And the Hacker soon got tired of looking. His priority was the tomb. Then the elimination of the four men.
He came back to the spot where the tomb was and looked up in the tomb there. The sun was up in the sky millions of miles away. It sent its rays in through the screen glass at the top of the dome.
A circle of light ringed the marble floor the tomb was just in the middle of minutes before. It weighed at least 300 pounds.
He brought his gun down, put it away in his shoulder holster, and crouched on the floor. There were no drag marks on the floor to indicate it had been dragged. He looked up at the roof, the dome; there were no openings there as well.
He was sweating now.
Someone had him good.
"We are getting aggravated," he breathed.
The Hacker walked out of the hall.
—
"Who are you people?" Henderson backed against the wall.
"My name is Olivia Newton."
Henderson's jaw dropped on the floor. He picked it up and attached the thing. "You—"
"Yes, me." Olivia grinned.
Ranieri Mantone pointed at the group. "You…you…I know you. You were on the TV. In Rome, you—"
"You stole the Holy Grail," Henderson said in awe.
"No, we didn't. It was not real. You know this, so let's cut the crap and cut to the chase. We just saved you from one of your people. There's a man in this church sent to kill you all—"
"I knew it!" Henderson smiled wickedly. He punched the inside of his palm. "I knew it! I knew that piece of shit was not to be trusted."
"But Thomas—" began Elijah Paltrow.
"No, Elijah! Think about it. Emilio has always wanted to sell the Table off. He was talking about selling the tomb."
"He didn't say that."
"Well, maybe not in those words, but he was certainly thinking it. That son of a bitch was thinking it."
Paltrow waved at Olivia and her people. She said, "So you are gonna take the words of these thieves for it?"
Henderson glanced at Olivia; he stepped forward. His eyes lit up. "Peru. Tell me about Peru. The gold, how much is it worth? Did you take everything?"
Olivia stared at the man and then looked back at the team. They were as amused by the man's theatrics as she was. She sighed.
"We don't have time for this."
Elijah Paltrow asked, "What are you going to do about Emilio Batolini? Are you going to turn him in?"
"On what charge?" Miller asked from behind.
"My thoughts exactly," said Paltrow. "So why don't you let us go? We can take care of our affairs. We don't need petty thieves to protect us from ourselves. We'll talk Emilio out of his foolishness and get him back on track. It is not his first time of straying."
"He did not just go astray. He left the fold a long time ago." Olivia looked in Paltrow's eyes. "Even you are aware
of this. You are just afraid to admit it. Emilio Batolini has tried to kill my friends and me before. He won't stop now; he won't stop ever. Right now, the only thing standing between him and us is Solomon's tomb."
"How are we supposed to take the words of a murderer?" asked Niklas Yannick.
The other men looked at him. Thomas Henderson asked what the man was talking about.
"She and her friends here killed that Peruvian on the TV. I saw it."
Elijah Paltrow asked Olivia, "Is this true what he just said?"
"No. It is not. And that is why we need you and everyone to stay alive. I need to clear my name."
"What have we got to do with your supposed crime?" Henderson pelted.
"We'll see," Olivia said. "For now, though, you have to stay out of sight. We will take your places publicly. We will get killed on your behalf."
"What?"
"And that's not all." Olivia eyed the necklaces with the half cross around their necks. Henderson's hand crept up his chest, and he grabbed the pendant. He shook his head.
"No, never. You can't possibly."
"Yes, ever. Take the necklaces off."
"You'll have to kill me first." Henderson scowled.
Olivia stepped forward, cocked her gun, and said, "So be it."
Niklas Yannick raised his hand.
"There is no need for that!" He came forward. The team saw him speak for the first time. "What use is a thing, if it is not used? Emilio was going to kill us all to get it after all. I'd rather die by the hands of a stranger than by the hands of my brother in arms."
He gingered the necklace around his neck, then over his thick head of sandy-colored hair. He stretched the jewelry out. "Here, you can borrow it."
Olivia took it and bowed. Ranieri Mantone and Elijah Paltrow did the same. Three shiny necklaces, the length of a 7mm Catholic rosary dangled from her hand.
Thomas Henderson looked at his colleagues sorrowfully. He shook his head. He pulled the necklace off.
"You better make sure this comes back unbroken."
He gave it to Olivia, then went back to sulking.
"You'll have your necklaces back in one piece," Olivia said. "I promise."
—
"Are you ready?" asked Olivia.
The men nodded.
She looked at Andrew Gilmore. He had shed the rabbi disguise and was now a completely different person. He was striking replicas of Thomas Henderson. However, his beard looked more plentiful. Yet she was sure he would make a possible success of the play.
"Be safe," she said.
Olivia embraced all four men. They filed out of the room.
7
There must be something he missed.
The Hacker was on his way back to the hall of Solomon's tomb again. This time he was going to turn the place upside down. It didn't matter if Mary stepped down with her baby from the altar mount and was going to shoot the place up.
That tomb was in there, he was sure.
He would make so much mess the hiding men would reveal themselves.
He was stomping back up the small steps to that hall again when he stopped.
The men he was looking for, all four of them, were standing at the end of the hall, watching him.
He wasted no breath. He drew his gun with lightning speed. He shot all four men, center mass. He returned his firearm into his holster and took a deep breath.
Now, to find the tomb.
—
"It is done."
Emilio Batolini sat down slowly. He pushed aside the burgeoning thought that he had just ordered—murdered—the death of four influential people. There would be consequences. But that was only if it came out what he'd done.
He drummed his fingers on the table. He was alone by it. Empty chairs with high backs looked like faceless judges.
"And the tomb?"
"It's still missing," said the Hacker.
"How?"
"I don't know. But I'm sure it's here."
"Find it."
But the Hacker froze at the entrance. The sound of police sirens was filling the church.
Emilio frowned. "Someone called the cops—"
The Hacker looked back. "We have to get out of here. Now!"
He pulled the former cardinal's hand and dragged him out of the chamber. On his way up the corridor, Emilio happened to look in the direction of the chamber where Solomon's tomb was.
"They moved it," he blubbered. "They moved it, those double-crossing idiots."
"Come on, sir. There are four dead bodies the police are going to question you about if they find us here."
"I'm going to kill them! Those thieves!"
"I already killed them."
—
The Hacker and Emilio escaped the premises of the church through a back exit that hadn't been opened for years. The gate was painted black, the hinges coated in yellow rust. The padlock was so old it crumbled and broke in two when the Hacker kicked it.
They came out into a narrow street with a covering of a tarp above it for almost the length of it. Traders sold along the front of the houses, an old man with a long white beard on a bicycle almost ran into them. The Hacker led the way, shouldering people aside to let them through.
At the end of the busy street, they met an intersection. Here the sun came through. More traders were here selling colorful clothes, shoes, and fruits; the place was noisy with haggling buyers and arguing sellers.
Emilio started calling his driver. But apparently, the man's phone was either down or in a place with bad reception.
The Hacker asked how he wanted to proceed.
Emilio looked up and down the street. He couldn't believe how things had quickly dropped southwards and against him.
"Come on, let's find the road," said the Hacker.
The two men came to an open double lane road. To the left of them was the Coptic Orthodox Patriarchate Jerusalem Church. A group of jolly tourists was lining up before a tour bus. There was light traffic on the other side of the road headed in the general direction of St. Joseph Monastery, but going that way meant going into a police net.
"We need to get you off the street."
"This is Jerusalem," said Emilio. "The whole of it is streets. What I need to do is get to my hotel. Then talk to someone."
His hotel was Hashimi Hotel and Hostel. That tour bus was headed in that direction, so Emilio walked towards it. The Hacker pushed him into the van.
He looked at the Hacker and said, "Go find the tomb. And if anyone tries to stop you, you know what to do."
The Hacker smiled. "That's what you pay me for."
Emilio nodded.
—
"We are clear," Olivia said into her radio.
The felled bodies rose.
All four men sat up with varying degrees of pain. Anabia Nassif bawled over, coughing. Spittle ran down the sides of Liam Murphy's cheeks. Miller managed to get on one knee. He pushed up and staggered against the wall.
Olivia came ambling down the corridor, her gun down between her thighs, her eyes scanning the several entranceways. She pointed the gun at the entrance into Solomon's chamber, as they had started calling the hall where the tomb was.
"Are you guys okay?" she asked.
"My chest…it burns." Olivia helped Liam up. "I think something's broken inside my chest. I need a doctor."
"You'll be alright."
She helped Andrew up and asked him how he felt. He nodded that he was alright.
"Now, we have at least a ten-minute head start. Come on, we have to move out."
She rounded up the necklaces and jogged off.
The men started pulling off their disguises and unstrapped the Kevlar under all the clothing. They hurried off towards the church. Reno, Tami, and Lawrence Diggs joined them out by the main church door that led another way into the museum areas where the various tombs were. This time they were coming through from behind.
They were just making their way through the hall, where Sheba's tomb s
at, when Andrew Gilmore stopped.
"Wait!"
Olivia looked sharply at him. She gave him a questioning gaze. Andrew gestured them all to hide by the groove behind an enclosure of glass in which there were smaller artifacts. About a meter from that point was the archway. Andrew stood by the pillar.
"What is it, Andrew?" Olivia whispered.
"I think he's back."
"Who?"
He looked back at the team; their wide eyes stared back expectantly.
"The Hacker."
—
He looked like a fallen angel in the arc of light in the hall. He stood there, looking like a ghost whose time has come but who doesn't understand it yet. The blue impeccably cut suit on his shoulder lost its freshness to the sunlight. It became a shade lighter.
The Hacker looked like a painting.
He was not a man given to gratuitous violence, nor one to glorify the drama of his profession yet. He loved these moments of singular beauty. Uninterrupted communion with nature in its rawest form, naked and bright.
He closed his eyes. He let the warm sun caress his face.
The moment ended abruptly because here he stood before what was supposed to be his out. Someone had started the most daring game. That person had made a whole tomb vanish here. He was interested in knowing how, and who they were.
Then, when he'd made them confess how they did it, he'd kill them.
He started whistling and walking about that hall again, searching.
—
The initial fright slipped out of Andrew.
Dear Lord, this man is just a man. Andrew watched the Hacker standing there, drinking sunlight. That contented smile on his face looked like a child tasting his mother's milk after long minutes without it. Andrew realized the gravity of what Paul Talbot had done. Whether wittingly or not, Talbot had sold this man to them as an indestructible alien.
Andrew breathed.
He had hidden the nature of the man he was under the cloth of a priest, away in a convent for years. And even now, Olivia nor the others did not know the half of him. He had been content to keep things that way, but now, he didn't know.
Someone touched his shoulder. He turned around.
"What do you think?" asked Diggs. His eyes were on the whistling guy in Solomon's tomb hall.
King Solomon's Tomb Page 11
