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I should mobilize the Vatican Knights, yes?”

“We do,” said Father Essex.

“The world is in turmoil,” the pontiff stated evenly. “And the Vatican Knights are needed for more pressing matters.” He turned to face the priests. “But I will send one man. I will send Kimball Hayden.”

“Alone?” asked Father Auciello.

“Alone,” was the answer. “The Consortium has their own collection of military specialists. With Kimball among them, I see no reason to mobilize a unit of Vatican Knights when they can be used elsewhere for the good of others, in order to achieve the means of attaining the staff.”

“But, Your Holiness,” said Father Auciello, “pitting Kimball Hayden against the Shadow Klan without his unit might minimize his chances of success.”

The pontiff waved a hand dismissively at them. “Kimball Hayden can manage the mission alone. If I have faith in him, why not you? You know his abilities. You know what he’s capable of. The interest of this church is to acquire the staff and return it here to the Vatican, where we can safely place it within the Vault. We do not deal with the possible military or political outcomes that may attempt to arise from the appropriation to begin with. That is not the Vatican’s call. Kimball will work in concert with the Consortium Group to locate and retrieve the item. What I want you to do, Father, is to contact Mr. da Vinci and tell him that he gets one man, a Vatican Knight who is considered to be the best the church has to offer. And since this happened under da Vinci’s watch, let him know that I have become disillusioned that the Consortium can continue to safeguard all relics of a sacred nature to be protected while under their domain. Anything with religious ties will be brought back to the Vatican and placed within its Vault.”

“We’ve always had a good relationship with the Consortium,” stated Father Essex. “They might take umbrage should I forward your message.”

“I really don’t care,” returned Pope Clement XV with an edge to his tone. “They were to harbor these items with the trust of the Vatican that these objects would remain forever safe. And yet a league of assassins’ march in and take something of immense value to the church. I hold Mr. da Vinci personally responsible for this.”

“With all due respect, Your Holiness,” stated Father Essex, “the treasures are too many for the Vatican Vault to hold.”

“Then find a solution.” The pope sounded curt and short of temper.

“Yes, Your Holiness.”

“And tell them they get one man. Kimball Hayden. Which is more than they probably deserve.”

“Yes, Your Holiness.”

After the priests left the pontiff’s chamber, Pope Clement XV began to reflect. Kimball Hayden and a team of Vatican Knights would have been a formidable unit against any other, including the Shadow Klan. Kimball alone, however, minimizes his chances to succeed since his kryptonite is working without the support of his team.

The pontiff started to smile inwardly.

The staff and its power meant little to him, a wooden shaft that was embedded with a crystallized particle which glowed like an ember that was unable to fully catch and flame. It was a trinket, he considered, a religious bauble that held no such power. But it was reason enough to send Kimball Hayden, who had become a thorn in his side when Bonasero Vessucci administrated the church and he a cardinal, into a quarrel from which he might not return. Without his team, without the Vatican Knights by his side, he was hoping that Kimball Hayden would fall to the Shadow Klan.

In fact, Pope Clement XV prayed and wished for this to happen.

That inward smile now surfaced, but marginally.

The thorn that was Kimball Hayden, he thought, the rogue warrior of the Vatican Knights who surmised correctly about the skeletons he kept buried deep inside his closet, would be forever gone from his life. All it would take would be one well-placed bullet from an assault rifle of a Shadow Klansman to neutralize him.

Just one.

Pope Clement XV prayed for this to be so.

 

CHAPTER

EIGHT

Lucerne, Switzerland

While the Consortium was attempting to rebound from their loss in Croatia soon after their talk with the Vatican, the man who called himself Salt stood before the stonewall sculpture of the ‘Lion of Lucerne’ in Switzerland.

After his unit appropriated the Eye of Moses, it was returned to Deep Mountain by a reigning principal of the Shadow Klan, who waited for them at the extraction site five kilometers east of the Croatian bunker. Hopping onboard a chopper, the rectangular box was gifted to the operator by Salt with its passing going from one set of hands to another as though it were a holy relic, which it was. But neither man saw it that way. They saw it as uncontested power.

After the unit landed safely, Salt was given the symbolic atta-boy pat on the back and told to ‘get some rest.’

So here he was, standing before the Lion of Lucerne, the man absolutely exhausted after going without sleep for three days, his adrenaline tapped out.

Cocking his head slightly in study, he noted the agony on the lion’s face—could see its exhaustion in the aftermath of losing a battle, the creature wounded and crippled. Then taking the foot bridge over the waters to the main throughway, Salt’s mind continued to wander while his body was driven by autopilot to get home. He thought about the mission and about the lives he had taken, and he justified his actions for the good of the Klan. Should the particle be developed into an absolute power with no equal, then the Shadow Klan could bring governments to their knees. And people like Salt could raise a fist in power and dictate whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, alongside a man by the name of Elias Caspari, who was the driving headmaster.

Reaching an apartment building which catered to the wealthy and the exclusive, Salt entered the building and took the sky elevator for the scenic route, got off on

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