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

highest political seat in the land. It had been the shared ambitions of many before him, all failing in their endeavors. But Elias Caspari was backed by endless finances that would bankroll an armory of weapons second to none.

In his lifetime, he knew, he’d be condemned with the title of the anti-Christ. In his mind, he saw himself as a savior who would pull mankind back from the brink of annihilation and curb their self-destructive mindset with threats of his own. Killing hundreds of millions to see this done would be a small price to pay, he considered, to allow man to live on under one government and rule. Getting there, however, would be an impossibility.

“But the word ‘impossible,’” he stated softly to himself, “doesn’t mean that something can’t be done. It only measures the degree of difficulty.”

In the labs within Deep Mountain, a weapon so powerful was being analyzed. What Elias Caspari neglected to see, what other leaders who shared the same ambitions neglected to see, was how much power was too much before someone ended up destroying themselves in the undertaking.

Elias Caspari was about to be challenged on that.

 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Cochem, Germany

After disembarking at the Frankfurt–Hahn Airport, Kimball Hayden was met by a chauffeur who wore the tacky little hat as part of his dress ensemble, then drove in silence through the major avenues until they started the climb along a private road that led to a medieval fortress. Like most castles that had turrets, ramparts, and battlements, it also had a touch of modern-day elegance to it as well. The portcullis, for instance, did not operate by the movements of pulleys and weights, but by state-of-the-art electronics that used facial recognition software as a means to identify its members, which would prompt the gates to open and give passage.

The courtyard was enormous with flowerbeds that would normally bloom in riots of color if not for the dormant season. A gold-plated statue of Nostradamus served as the courtyard’s centerpiece as water bubbled from the crucible in his hands and into the fountain’s well, an impressive display. And the castle’s entryway, which was made entirely of bomb-blast resistance glass and steel framework, was heavily guarded.

“It really is a fortress, isn’t it?” said Hayden. The chauffer remained silent, however, as he pulled the vehicle over, got out, removed Hayden’s bags from the trunk, placed them on the gravel, opened the vehicle’s rear door, then stood as still as a Grecian statue while Kimball exited the backseat. “Dude, relax. I’m not that important.”

The driver acted as though he didn’t hear a word Kimball said, then returned to the vehicle and drove off towards the carpool.

With his bags sitting on the gravel and the heavily armed guards looking at him with indifference, Kimball said, “And?”

“Someone will be with you shortly, Mr. Hayden,” said one of the guards. “Please be patient.”

“Thank you.”

From his point of view, the vista was magnificent as the trees began to turn with the colors of the foliage. There were reds and oranges and yellows that should be memorialized and painted on canvas, he considered, the display truly an artist’s topic for a landscape portrait. As he was admiring his surroundings, a pair of bellboys hastened from the castle and grabbed Hayden’s bags. With practiced smiles, they ushered Kimball Hayden inside the castle and passed through several security measures until they entered the main atrium. In the center of this marbled vestibule was a statue equal in size to the Colossus of Rhodes, about ninety feet, and a facsimile of the fountain statue of Nostradamus holding a crucible within his cupped hands. The most outstanding features about the statue was the entirety of it being overlaid with gold leafing, with the symbol of the Knights Templar upon the crucible encrusted and fashioned with rubies.

How much money do these people have?

After walking the myriad hallways large enough to drive a truck through, Hayden was finally escorted to his chamber. The room was as large as his cabin space in Maryland—maybe larger—but definitely grander. The bed was larger than a continental, something Hayden believed could sleep five people comfortably but was too gaudy for his taste. The windows were floor-to-ceiling with towering drapes that had scalloped edges and gold tassels. The furniture was ornate and expensive, with single pieces costing more than his entire furniture collection inside his cabin. This place was too extravagant, which was not Kimball’s taste at all. In fact, surrounded by these high-end luxuries made him feel uneasy.

After the porters left, Hayden called out only to hear his voice echo back at him, the acoustics poor. On the far wall directly across the bed was a 100” 4K high-def quality TV. Just as Kimball was about to test the bed for comfort, the TV winked on. It was Mr. da Vinci.

“Good evening, Mr. Hayden. I do hope that your trip was a good one.”

“It was fine. Thank you.”

“I know you’re tired,” said Mr. da Vinci. “Before we meet, would you prefer to get some rest?”

“No,” said Hayden. “I’m fine. I need to get acclimatized to the time change any way.”

“Very good, then. We’ve much to discuss in so little time. Once you get settled, please have the porters outside your door escort you to my office.”

“I’m good to go now.”

“Very well, then. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” Then the picture reduced itself to a light mote in the center of the screen, then disappeared.

A moment later, the porters opened the door and waited for Hayden to join them.

 

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Lucerne, Switzerland

Salt.

At one point in his life he was a truly pious man whose virtues were steeped in Christianity. But over the years he had seen too many injustices as people became corrupted souls steeped in darkness. There was war, starvation, executions, and ungodly treatments against the good, the kind and the innocent.

In time when he no longer felt in tune with the core values of his religion, he urged himself to serve the church better by working