The Crimson Dagger - Vatican Knights Series 23 (2020), Rick Jones [free ebooks for android txt] 📗

course tracked through a number of CCTV cameras, as well as through its telematic system. Once a link was established between the satellite and the vehicle’s personal GPS software system, tracking was locked in on a couple of fronts, making escape virtually impossible.

With an accuracy to within five feet, Mayer was not only able to provide them with the van’s actual position, but through the eyes of the CCTV cameras, he was also able to inform the heads as to where the occupants had taken residence, which was inside the Kristallpalast.

Neither Baeder nor Gruber hesitated to spur their units, which converged on the hotel from different parts of the city to surround the building within a perimeter to block off all exit points.

Lights flashed.

Sirens blared.

Tires skidded along the pavement as they came to screeching halts around the hotel, hemming the building in from all sides—north, south, east and west.

Within the shadows not too far from the hotel’s loading area was the van, which a forensics team summarily commandeered in search of trace evidence in hopes of identifying those who were involved with the murders and theft at the Imperial Treasury. A blockade of cars strung themselves together, bumper to bumper, around the building, with a legion of police officers taking position behind the vehicles with their weapons drawn.

With the lights and sounds and the number of overwhelming police, the area was like Fat Tuesday at the Mardi Gras—the area appearing bright, populated and festive.

From seventy floors above the street, none of this went unnoticed.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The Kristallpalast

Seventieth-Floor Suite

Everyone had heard the sirens as they converged on the site, the wails loud and ear-shattering, if not blistering, even from seventy levels above the city landscape.

Ali Mustafa and Abd-al-Mumin were standing on the balcony that surrounded the glass-bottom pool. Mustafa held the Holy Lance in his hand while the two looked down to see law enforcement merge en masse to create an unbreakable chain that surrounded the Kristallpalast.

“You told me that you had cleared the Treasury and that no one followed.” Mustafa sounded angry, irritated.

Abd-al-Mumin appeared nonplussed. “Khalifa took out the first wave,” he told him. “We were drawing distance from the Treasury as the second wave approached. I saw them turn into the plaza that fronted the Hofburg Palace. Believe me, Ali, not one unit gave chase. They were too focused on what was going on in front of the Treasury.”

Ali Mustafa turned to Abd-al-Mumin with admonishing eyes. “Then explain to me why we now find ourselves in such a precarious position?”

After a moment as though trying to find an appropriate answer, Abd-al-Mumin shrugged. “I can’t.”

“Of course not.” Mustafa once again looked over the railing to the scene below. And then: “We’re being tested,” he stated simply. “Allah is providing us with the opportunity to reveal His power.”

Ali Mustafa stepped away from the balcony, skirted the pool, and entered his suite where the others remained—all remaining silent while dutifully awaiting their orders. Sitting before a PC, Mustafa carefully laid the Spear of Destiny on the table with both hands, as though it was fragile, and took his seat before the computer’s keyboard. “Very well, then,” he said, typing. “Allah now inspires me,” he added. “I can see that now. I can feel His encouragement and sense what He wants me to do. Which is to test the Lance’s power.”

He typed furiously, the man a mechanic at the keyboard.

The screen, however, continued to pop up with ACCESS DENIED.

More typing, fast and with urgency, with his fingertips coming down on the keys with authority and emphasis, until the monitor read ACCESS APPROVED.

“By the grace and will of Allah,” he whispered more to himself.

The Kristallpalast was often filled with dignitaries who filled the most luxurious rooms available, most notably the suites on the seventieth floor with their glass-bottom pools, top-shelf amenities, and first-class concierge service.

More taps on the keyboard, this time bringing up a list of VIPs and their suite numbers. There were heads of state like the two reigning heads of Austria’s main political parties, one from the Austrian People's Party and the other from the Die Grünen, or the Green Party. Then there was the political principal from Germany who served as a ruling member of the Bundestag, the German federal parliament that is by comparison similar to the lower division of the United States House of Representatives. There were also captains of industry and CEOs, though not as well-known as the Elon Musks or the Jeff Bezos of the world, but nevertheless held a firm standing within the business community. There was also an Associate Justice of the United States Supreme Court, just another asset for the taking. But the holy grail from this laundry list of the high-profile dignitaries glared at him like a beacon, perhaps a gift from Allah, he considered. A few levels below and practically beneath his feet was the Vatican’s Cardinal Secretary of State.

“Yesssss,” he whispered, the s-portion extending like a serpent’s hiss. “Now I know we’re being tested. To grant me with such a gift can only be done so by the grace of Allah’s planning.” He turned abruptly on Abd-al-Mumin. “All of this was meant to be. So you, Abd-al-Mumin, have no fault in this.” Carefully, Mustafa reached for the Holy Lance and lifted it gingerly off the table with both hands, then held it outward in homage. “It was meant to be,” he added softly.

Then his features hardened, becoming both stern and menacing. The Ali Mustafa that everyone had come to know, a man who had the power to choose who lived or died with a simple wave of his hand, pointed to the name on the screen and said, “The authorities will be in the lobby below to question those to access information as to who we are and where we are. I will counter their actions starting with this one.” He tapped the monitor with the point of his finger several times. “Ghazi, Zamir, go to Room