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jacket, even though it did nothing to keep him dry.

“It will take time to plan,” Abd-al-Mumin commented as they walked.

Mustafa nodded. “A day at most. But it’s doable.” He stopped and locked eyes with Abd-al-Mumin. “To attain the Holy Lance is paramount. Even the smallest error could be costly. There can be no mistakes. Not for this.”

“I understand.”

Mustafa turned and started to walk away with Abd-al-Mumin by his side. The rain was coming down harder, though Mustafa didn’t appear to mind the downpour.

“Make sure that you do, Abd-al-Mumin. The team is under your command. To fail me is to fail Allah. To fail Allah is to fail yourself. To fail yourself is to fail the cause. And to fail the cause is to forfeit your life as recompense to Allah, who will judge you for your team’s performance.”

“There will be no failure on the part of my team,” he told Mustafa. “They’ll be ready.”

Mustafa believed this to be true since Abd-al-Mumin’s unit was handpicked because of their military qualifications. The Islamic State was becoming an amalgamated army made up of soldiers from a number of countries that included Jordan, Saudi Arabia, Tunisia, Russia, and Turkey. From the Russian group, he had chosen members in the past from Chechnya, Ingushetia, and Dagestan, which are largely Muslim regions who have long sought independence from Moscow. Those from Turkey had been trained by the Special Forces Command, or the OKK; from Tunisia, the Tunisian Armed Forces; from Jordan, the King Abdullah ll Special Forces Group; and from Saudi Arabia, from the Royal Saudi Armed Forces. For this particular undertaking,Abd-al-Mumin had chosen his team wisely and conscripted the best of the best. These were not the newbies from Syria who opted to fight for a cause that had been instilled in them from discontented imams. These were seasoned and battle-tested operators. Ever since Allied Forces began to withdraw from Syria with their lack of presence encouraging bad behavior, the Islamic State became motivated by the opportunity and began to emerge and evolve as elite fighting forces with no constraints. Accepting members from elite forces throughout the Middle East and then conscripting them for certain causes was becoming a coup for the Islamic State. For Abd-al-Mumin, he only saw win-win situations. The word ‘failure’ was neither a consideration nor an afterthought, but an obscene and unspeakable term.

As the rain came down in droves, Ali Mustafa finally nodded. “Then let us pray, my friend, that Allah is as confident in your team as you are.”

“My team is the best of the best,” Abd-al-Mumin quickly answered. “They were brought together by the will of Allah to serve a purpose. And that purpose, Ali, is to obtain the Spear of Destiny. There is no question as to the skillset of my unit. What they bring to the table are the gifts given to them by Allah to achieve the means. They will serve in the manner that is required of them. And they will acquire the relic in uncontested fashion.”

Ali Mustaf maintained his fishhook smile. “I like your confidence, Abd-al-Mumin. And you have done well. I’m sure that Allah will see to your victory.”

“Allah will, Ali. Tomorrow, you will be holding the Holy Lance within the grip of your hand, for which you will wield it as you were meant to. It will become your sword and shield, and, with Allah as your commander, you will reign with the law of the land as One Rule under the One True God.”

Mustafa raised his hand and looked at his palm. Then he clutched it into a fist while envisioning the Holy Lance within his grasp, his scepter of rule. Then softly, as if to himself, he said, “Allahu Akbar.” God is Great. Then he opened his hand to reveal its emptiness.

Together, in the rain, while Abd-al-Mumin continued to toy with his collar in an attempt to stay dry, Ali Mustafa continued to smile as though he relished the climate. Both, however, romanticized fantasies of possessing absolute power, which were often the dreams of madmen.

CHAPTER FIVE

The Vatican, Vatican City

2000 Hours Central European Time (CET)

Five Hours Ahead of Eastern Standard Time (EST)

Kimball was beaming on the inside as the Light within remained as bright as a thousand suns. To see Isaiah, Jeremiah, Job, and others within his team all coming together under the same roof of the garrison as family, was an entirely joyful moment. Though his time away had only been a few months, it seemed that his self-imposed sabbatical was much too long.

Inside the central chamber where the mosaic floor was tiled to resemble the emblem of the Vatican Knights—that of a coat of arms with a Silver Cross Pattée as its center that was set against a blue background of a shield. The colors were significant for the fact that silver represented peace and sincerity, and blue the traits of truth and loyalty. Positioned alongside the design were two heraldic lions who were standing on their hind legs with their forepaws holding the edges of the shield, stabilizing it. The implication of the lions was a symbolic representation of bravery, strength, ferocity and valor, the qualities of a Vatican Knight. The insignia-laden floor had also consisted of more than one million tiles, with the process starting at the end of the Second World War and finishing up by the start of the Korean War.

Come nightfall, Kimball and Isaiah were alone inside Kimball’s chamber.

At first, neither spoke—perhaps reminiscing.

But it was Isaiah who finally commented. “Looks hollow without your gear. Somehow, the room looks . . . bigger.”

“What happened? Pope Clement couldn’t wait to see me gone?”

“I guess he was hoping that I elevate myself to the position as commander of the Vatican Knights. As far as the team goes, Kimball, you’re not just a Vatican Knight, you are the Vatican Knight. The pontiff knows how we feel about this. I couldn’t take over your chamber because it would seem blasphemous.”

“And my gear?”

“In storage.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

Kimball

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