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

a third finger. “And four, our time is limited. The fire is gaining, so we need to move quietly and with absolute efficiency, even though he’ll be expecting us.” He lowered his last finger until a fisted hand remained. “Questions?”

There were none.

“All right,” Kimball said, “let’s move.”

With stealth and speed and practiced grace, the Vatican Knights started to make their final push.

CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

Ghazi held his AK-47 firm as he stood before Mustafa, who appeared somewhat disappointed in the way that the present was playing out. In one hand he held the detonator. In the other was the Holy Lance.

Ghazi, who stood before him slack jawed, couldn’t believe that the entire team had been terminated by the Vatican Knights, who, no less, were most likely converging on their position. “Everyone?” he asked Mustafa incredulously. “Zamir, Talib, Qusay and Abd-al-Mumin?”

“Everyone. The entire team . . . Gone.” Mustafa didn’t look Ghazi in the eye when he forwarded this information. It was as though he was embarrassed and ashamed. His promises of victory had gone to the wayside. And his dream of commanding a great legion of warriors little more than fantasy at this point.

“But the power of the Holy Lance,” said Ghazi.

Mustafa shook his head. “Perhaps,” he began, holding up the detonator, “with the power of force, maybe they’ll provide us with the power we seek. Perhaps, one does not work without the other . . . The Holy Lance and the detonator.” Mustafa quickly gave a side-long glance to the door at the other end of the suite. “The hostages,” he said. “Gather them. They won’t risk the life of the Vatican’s Secretary of State. With that being said, Ghazi, we still have the upper hand. Now quickly, bring me the captives.”

Ghazi lowered his head, a bow of respect. “Yes, Mustafa.”

As Ghazi headed away, Ali Mustafa wondered if Allah had granted them enough time with the fire rapidly approaching. Will I be bathed in the glory of Your flames, Allah? Or will I rejoice in a well-deserved victory with me as Your ruling vessel?

Staring at the Spear of Destiny and the detonator, he realized that he still had a slight advantage. He still had the hostages.

Looking out the shattered windows and seeing nothing but rising smoke, Mustafa set aside the detonator and grabbed his cellphone. With a quick push of his thumb, he hit the number 9.

CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

Müller’s cellphone rang. He answered. “Müller.”

“The Chopper?”

“It’s on its way.”

“As you can see, the lack of time has now become a critical factor in operations, I’m afraid. If that chopper is not here within ten minutes, then I will kill another hostage. Maybe the Cardinal Secretary of State.”

“Mustafa, we had no way of knowing how fast this fire would move.”

“Again, you fail to see another aspect of what could be, such as the gas lines exploding.”

“The chopper is on its way . . . And it’s on time.”

“Good to hear, Müller. Maybe you’re on top of things after all. And the plane at the airport?”

“As I stated before, it’s ready to go.”

There was a pause. Then: “Ten minutes or the hostages start dying, since I believe that the clock is about to run itself out. I am prepared to meet Allah. Know this.”

The line went dead.

Zeller addressed Müller by asking, “What?”

Müller tucked the phone into his pocket. “We have ten minutes.”

“The choppers will be here in fifteen.”

Müller didn’t know what to say.

CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR

Sixty Miles West of Vienna

Behind the 18 AW169M chopper was a convoy of three Chinook helicopters that were flying in an eastbound direction when Udo Eckhardt, who was the lead commander of the extraction team, received a call from Base Command. Wearing a headphone to dampen the sound of the rotors, Eckhardt still had to shout over the noise. “This is Chopper One, Base Command! Go!”

“Base Command to Chopper One, what’s your ETA?”

“Approximately eighteen minutes!”

“That’s negative, Chopper One. The time has been pushed to nine minutes. I repeat: the time has been pushed to nine minutes.”

“That’s negative, Base Command! We’re too far out! I can push it to fifteen, maybe fourteen minutes!”

“Negative, Chopper One! This is coming from the highest authority. Nine minutes.”

“Then you tell that ‘highest authority’ that we can’t do the impossible! Even at maximum speed, we’re talking about fourteen minutes here! Realistically, it’s more like fifteen!”

There was a pause on the part of Base Command, then: “I’ll forward your message, Chopper One. But as of right now, your window closes in nine minutes.”

“Yeah! I copy!” Eckhardt switched off the communication then commented to himself, “Good luck with that.”

Eckhardt’s co-pilot turned to address his commanding officer, then asked him, “Are they serious? Nine minutes!”

Eckhardt nodded. “It’s not going to happen! We’re too far out!” And then: “Whatever is going to happen in nine minutes is going to happen! We’re not miracle workers!”

Like a gaggle of geese in a migration pattern, the choppers continued their eastbound journey with a fifteen-minute ride ahead of them.

CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

Inside the Kristallpalast

Vienna, Austria

Ghazi unlocked the door to the hostage area and stepped inside shouting threats in Arabic. His face was flushed and spittle flew from his lips, the terrorist displaying the high-strung emotion of a man who commanded by intimidation, which had been apparent by the way he directed his AK-47 on those inside the room.

Judge Rosenberg stood with the features on his face remaining stoic. The Chinese CEO also got to her feet, though slowly and with reluctance, the woman obviously frightened and sobbing. The cardinal, however, remained seated with his back against the wall, cowering. He begged to Jesus and pleaded to God with his steepled hands held in prayer. Tears marked his cheeks, the telling signs of his cowardice. With the brunt of his makeup that of arrogance, his core had rotted long ago by his true lack of faith. And perhaps in the eyes of God, he further