The Eye of Moses - Vatican Knights Series 22 (2020), Rick Jones [learn to read books txt] 📗

at school. After pouring himself a cup of hot cocoa, he joined her on the balcony and took the seat beside her.

A splendidly beautiful woman who had a dark complexion and eyes that were the color of deep chocolate, she had the heritage traits of her Greek ancestors.

Setting her magazine on her lap, she turned to him with a lazy smile. “You must have been really tired,” she told him. “You’ve been asleep for close to twelve hours.”

Salt said nothing as he stared at the scenery with his hands wrapped around the steaming cup of cocoa to keep them warm.

“You hungry?” she asked him.

“No. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? I can heat up some Swiss chard.”

He nodded. “I’m good, sweetheart . . . Really.”

“Then tell me about your trip. I’m dying to know.”

“Like all my trips,” he told her, “it was uneventful.”

“Still, I’d like to hear about it.”

“You know I can’t talk about work.”

“I’m sure you did things that were not work related. So, tell me about them.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he insisted.

Then in jest, she said, “Are you seeing another woman behind my back?”

The only woman Salt saw on his journey was Mr. Copernicus’ wife, recalling the moment a bullet punched through her forehead and knocked her to the floor. “Of course not, my dear,” he lied. “I didn’t see a single soul outside of my work.”

Raising her magazine and returning to the article she had been reading, Salt continued to stare at the wonderful scenery that could have only been created by the Hand of Providence, then wondered how long it would take for the demonic hand of mankind to demolish it if corrections weren’t made.

While these thoughts ran through his mind, he brought the cup to his lips and sipped from it.

 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

LaGuardia Airport

New York City, New York

When Kimball Hayden landed at LaGuardia and before he embarked on a private jet, he immediately called Shari, who picked up on the first ring.

“Kimball.”

“How are you, kiddo.”

“I’m missing you already.”

“I bet you are.”

“I am. Seriously.”

Hayden smiled. “I know you do. I miss you, too.”

“I assume you’re in New York?”

“You assume correctly.”

There was a lapse of silence between them.

Then from Shari. “Kimball, please be careful.”

“You know I will.”

“I mean it. Every job has its limits. Remember that.”

“I will.”

“I want you to come home to me. You know why?”

“Why.”

“Because I’m looking at something. You know what I’m looking at?”

“I haven’t a clue.”

“I’m looking at the land surrounding our cabin. The lake. The trees. Sunsets to die for.”

Kimball Hayden could feel a sour lump forming in his throat but found the strength to push it back. “Don’t worry, honey. I’ll be back. That’s a promise.” He expected her to say something like, ‘Don’t make a promise you can’t keep.’ But all she said was ‘OK.’

After exchanging ‘I love you’ and ‘I miss you,’ Kimball Hayden closed his cellphone and made his way to the chartered jet, hoping that this wasn’t the last time he would speak to Shari Cohen.

 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Deep Mountain

Switzerland

Elias Caspari was surrounded by a legion of armed guards as he stood before the bell-chamber that contained Aaron’s rod. From a bank of monitors lined up on a table, he could see the rod rotating on its platform inside the container. And with every revolution, Caspari took notice of the glimmering Eye of Moses that was embedded within the head of the petrified staff.

“Have you made no advances?” he asked the senior engineer.

The engineer had an unkempt look to him because his lab coat looked like the sheet of an unmade bed, and his hair was in a wild tangle. From a mouth that had a set of teeth that were as small and yellow as kernels of corn, he answered, “We’re doing all we can to promote safety by attempting to neutralize its volatile effects.”

“That doesn’t answer my question. So, let me ask it this way: With safety in mind, how long do you think it will take to break the particle down to its finite matter so it can be treated for military applications?”

“Weeks. Months. Years. It depends if we can neutralize the dangers by learning how to harness it.”

“Harnessing the particle,” Caspari said. “I’m going to assume it’s doable?”

“Yes. The CERN is examining the constant bombarding of particles to discover the creative forces that developed the universe in a way to recreate the Big Bang, and the physical cosmology that came thereafter. We can mimic their efforts safely and, in time, learn how to govern the product within the crystal.”

This is what Caspari wanted to hear. What he didn’t want to hear was the length needed to develop the element into a weaponized tool. “Day and night,” he told the engineer. “I want people on this 24/7/365 to defuse any potential dangers as soon as possible. Then I want the team to extract potential data that can recreate the particle’s effects.”

“We’re trying.”

“Try harder.”

“With all due respect, the CERN is using equipment far more advanced than what we have here.”

“As you just stated, the CERN is looking to discover the creative forces that developed the cosmos. We already have the created force sitting inside that bell; a gift from the universe which was not manufactured inside of a module at the CERN. We’re talking about two different things here. One is research to discover the effects of the Big Bang . . . And then there’s our need, which is to exploit the particle for the development of a WMD.”

The engineer nodded. “Understood.”

“24/7/365,” Caspari repeated. “Use caution . . . But make gains.”

After the senior engineer nodded once again in acknowledgment, he returned to the monitors and began to read the power output of the particle in joules, electric and kinetic energies. These surface readings were the beginnings of the particle’s expressive strength to better understand what they were dealing with.

After Caspari was escorted back to his office by his armed entourage, he was at his desk reflecting about a new world order and pictured himself sitting on the