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Rachel tilted up her goggles. The way ahead went pitch dark again. Gray's flashlight must be emitting ultraviolet light, visible only through the scopes.
She reseated her goggles.
The otherworldly light illuminated an anteroom at this level. A few displays and models dotted the s.p.a.ce, used in tours. One was a model of Constantine's first church, built on the site here in 324 B B.C. The other was a model of an aedicula aedicula, a burial shrine shaped like a tiny two-level temple. It was such a temple that had marked Saint Peter's gravesite. According to historians, Constantine had constructed a cube made out of marble and porphyry, a rare stone imported from Egypt. He encased the aedicula aedicula shrine and built his original church around it. shrine and built his original church around it.
Soon after the excavation of the necropolis began, the original Constantinian cube was rediscovered, positioned directly under the main papal altar of St. Peter's. A wall of the original temple remained, scratched and scrawled with Christian graffiti, including the Greek letters spelling out Petros eni Petros eni, or "Peter is within."
And indeed, inside a cavity in that graffiti wall, bones and cloth were found that matched a man of Saint Peter's stature and age. Now they were sealed in bulletproof plastic boxes made, oddly enough, by the U.S. Department of Defense and secured back into the wall cavity.
That was their goal.
"This way," Rachel whispered, and pointed to a steep, circular stair that led below.
Gray took the lead.
They wound down below the bas.e.m.e.nt and even deeper.
A chill settled through Rachel's clothes. She felt almost naked. The goggles narrowed her vision, triggering a twinge of claustrophobia.
At the bottom of the stairs, a small door blocked the way. Rachel squeezed next to Gray, bodies touching, and noted his musky scent before she fished out the key and unlocked the door.
He held her hand against opening the door and gently but firmly pushed her behind him. He then pulled the door open a few centimeters and stared through. Rachel and the others waited.
"All clear," he said. "Dark as a tomb in there."
"Funny," Monk grumbled.
Gray pulled open the door.
Rachel readied herself for a blast, gunfire, or some sort of attack, but found only silence.
As they all pushed inside, Gray turned to the group. "I think the monsignor was right. For once, we've got the jump on the Dragon Court. It's about time we we set up the ambush." set up the ambush."
"What's the plan?" Monk asked.
"No chances. We set the trap and get the h.e.l.l out of here." Gray pointed to the door. "Monk, stand guard at the door. It's the only way out or in. Guard our exit and our backs."
"Not a problem."
Gray handed what looked like two small egg cartons to Kat. "Sonic grenades and flash bombs. I expect they'll come in dark like we did, with their ears up. Let's see if we can blind and deafen them. Distribute these as we cross to the tomb. Full coverage."
Kat nodded.
He turned next to Rachel. "Show me Saint Peter's tomb."
She headed out into the dark necropolis, walking along an ancient Roman road. Family crypts and mausoleums lined the path, each six meters square. Walls were covered with ultrathin bricks, a common building material during the first century. Frescoes and mosaics decorated many of the tombs, but such details were murky under night-vision. There remained a few bits of statuary, appearing to move in the eerie illumination. The dead come to life.
Rachel mapped out the route to the center of the necropolis. A metal walkway led up to a platform and rectangular window. She pointed through it.
"The tomb of Saint Peter."
9:40 P P.M.
GRAY POINTED his pistol and shone his UV spot into the gravesite. his pistol and shone his UV spot into the gravesite.
Ten feet beyond the window, a brick wall rose alongside a ma.s.sive cube of marble. A hole near the base of the wall had an opening in it. Bending down, he aimed his light. Within the opening, he could see a clear box with a blob of white claylike material.
Bone.
From Saint Peter.
Gray felt the hairs on his arms stand a bit on end, a s.h.i.+ver of awe and fear. He felt like an archaeologist, delving into a dark cave, out in some lost continent, not a couple floors below the heart of the Roman Catholic Church. Then again, maybe here was its true true heart. heart.
"Commander?" Kat asked. She rejoined them, having lagged a bit behind to plant her charges.
Gray straightened. "Can we get closer?" he asked Rachel.
She pulled out the second key her uncle had given her and unlocked a gate that led into the inner sanctum.
"We must be quick," Gray said, sensing time was running short. Then again, maybe it wasn't. Maybe the Dragon Court wouldn't strike until after midnight, like in Cologne. But he was taking no chances.
He pulled out the gear he had been calibrating on the way here. He searched the s.p.a.ce and found an inconspicuous spot. He fixed the tiny video camera within a crevice of a neighboring mausoleum and positioned it to face Saint Peter's tomb. He took a second camera and turned it the opposite way, making sure it faced back out through the window to cover the approach.
"What are you doing?" Rachel asked.
Finished with the cameras, Gray waved them back out. "I don't want to spring the trap too soon. I want them to get comfortable in here, set up their apparatus. Then we'll strike. I don't want to leave them any room to bolt with the Magi bones or their device."
After they exited, Rachel relocked the gate.
"Monk," Gray said into his radio, "how are you doing?"
"All quiet."
Good.
Gray crossed to a nearby crumbling mausoleum, one open at the front. The bones had long been cleared out. He freed the laptop from his pack and hid it inside the mausoleum, attaching a portable boost-transmitter to its USB port. A green light flashed a positive connection. He flicked a switch, sending the apparatus into dark mode. No light shone from computer or transmitter. Good.
Gray straightened and explained as they headed back out. "The video cameras are not strong enough to transmit very far. The laptop will pick up the signal and boost it. It'll have enough range to reach the surface. We'll monitor it on another laptop. Once the Court is down here, trapped, we blast them with the sonic and flash charges, then sweep below with a whole barrack of Swiss Guards."
Kat nodded and eyed him. "If we had been too cautious back at the catacombs, delayed too long, we wouldn't have had this chance."
Gray nodded.
Finally luck was with them. A bit of boldness had- The explosions cut off his thought. They were not loud, more m.u.f.fled, sounding like depth charges exploding far underwater. They echoed throughout the necropolis, accompanied by a louder crash of stone.
Gray crouched as small holes were punched through the roof from above. Rock and earth blasted downward, cras.h.i.+ng into the mausoleums and crypts below. Before the debris could even settle, ropes snaked through the smoky openings, followed by one man after another.
A full a.s.sault team.
They dropped into the necropolis and vanished.
Gray immediately recognized what was happening. The Dragon Court was entering from the floor above, the Sacred Grottoes. That level was accessed from inside the basilica. The Dragon Court must have come to the memorial service-then through their contact here, snuck below into the papal crypts of the Sacred Grotto. Their gear had probably been smuggled in over the course of a couple days and hidden among the shadowy tombs of the Grotto. Then, under the cover of the service, they regained their tools, bored specially shaped charges, and quietly punched their way down here.
The a.s.sault team would escape the same way, disappearing back among the thousands gathered here.
That must not happen.
"Kat," Gray whispered, "take Rachel to Monk. Don't engage. Get back above. Find the Swiss Guard."
Kat grabbed Rachel's elbow. "What about you?" she asked.
He was already moving, heading back toward Saint Peter's tomb. "I'm staying here. I'll monitor from the laptop. Delay them if need be. Then signal you by radio once I spring the ambush."
Perhaps all was not yet lost.
Monk came on over the radio. Even subvocalizing, his words were faint. "No go here. They blasted a hole right above the exit. Practically cracked my skull with a chunk of rock. The b.a.s.t.a.r.ds are riveting the G.o.dd.a.m.n door shut."
Gray heard the machine-gun pops of an air gun echoing from the rear of the necropolis.
"No one's going in or out this way," Monk finished.
"Kat?"
"Roger that, Commander."
"Everyone go to ground," he ordered. "Wait for my signal.
Gray crouched low and ran down the cemetery street.
They were on their own.
9:44 P P.M.
VIGOR ENTERED St. Peter's Basilica through the sacristy door, flanked by two Swiss Guards. He had shown his identification three times to gain access. But at least word was slowly filtering through the screens and checks. Maybe he hadn't been forceful enough when he'd placed the call twenty minutes ago, hedging that he didn't know for certain when the Dragon Court would a.s.sault the tomb. St. Peter's Basilica through the sacristy door, flanked by two Swiss Guards. He had shown his identification three times to gain access. But at least word was slowly filtering through the screens and checks. Maybe he hadn't been forceful enough when he'd placed the call twenty minutes ago, hedging that he didn't know for certain when the Dragon Court would a.s.sault the tomb.
But now things were moving in the right direction.
Vigor pa.s.sed the monument to Pius VII and entered the nave near the middle of the church. The basilica was shaped like a giant cross, covering twenty-five thousand square meters, so cavernous two soccer teams could play a game within the confines of the nave alone.
And presently it was full. Every pew was crowded, from nave through transept. The s.p.a.ce glowed with thousands of candles and the illumination of eight hundred chandeliers. The Pontifical Choir was in mid-song, Exaudi Deus Exaudi Deus, fitting for a memorial, but amplified and echoing as loud as any rock concert.
Vigor hurried, but forced himself not to run. Panic would kill. There were only a limited number of exits. He waved the two Swiss Guards to sweep right and left and alert their brothers-in-arms. Vigor had to get the pope clear first and alert the presiding clerical staff to slowly evacuate the paris.h.i.+oners.
Stepping into the nave, he had a clear view to the papal altar.
On the far side of the altar, Cardinal Spera was seated with the pope. The pair sat under Bernini's bronze baldacchino, baldacchino, a canopy of gilded bronze that covered the center altar. It rose eight stories, supported by four ma.s.sive twisted bronze columns, decorated with gilded gold olive and laurel branches. The canopy itself was topped by a golden sphere surmounted by a cross. a canopy of gilded bronze that covered the center altar. It rose eight stories, supported by four ma.s.sive twisted bronze columns, decorated with gilded gold olive and laurel branches. The canopy itself was topped by a golden sphere surmounted by a cross.
Vigor worked his way surrept.i.tiously forward. He had no time to change into proper vestments and was still shoddily attired. A few wealthy paris.h.i.+oners glanced at him, frowning, then noted his Roman collar. Still their glances were disdainful. A poor parish priest, they must think, awed by the spectacle.
Reaching the front, Vigor edged to the left. He would circle toward the rear of the altar, where he could speak to Cardinal Spera in private.
As he pushed past the statue of Saint Longinus, a hand reached out from a shadowed doorway. He glanced over as his elbow was gripped. It was a lanky man his own age, silver-haired, someone he knew and respected, Preffetto Alberto, the head prefect of the Archives.
"Vigor?" the prefect said. "I heard..."
His words were lost to an especially loud refrain from the chorus.
Vigor leaned closer, stepping into the alcove that sheltered the doorway. It led down to the Sacred Grottoes. "I'm sorry, Alberto. What-?"
The grip tightened. A pistol shoved hard into his ribs. It had a silencer.
"Not another word, Vigor," Alberto warned.
9:52 P P.M.
HIDDEN INSIDE the crypt, Gray lay on his belly, out of view of the opening. His pistol rested beside the open laptop. He had its display turned to dark mode, glowing in UV. Two images split the screen-one feed from the camera facing Saint Peter's tomb, the other from the camera facing the main necropolis. the crypt, Gray lay on his belly, out of view of the opening. His pistol rested beside the open laptop. He had its display turned to dark mode, glowing in UV. Two images split the screen-one feed from the camera facing Saint Peter's tomb, the other from the camera facing the main necropolis.
The a.s.sault team had divided into two groups. While one set patroled the necropolis in darkness, the other had broken out flashlights to expedite their work by the tomb. They worked quickly and efficiently, each man knowing his job. They had already opened the gate that blocked access to Saint Peter's tomb. Two men flanked the famous crypt, bent to a knee. They were fixing two large plates to either side.
The third man was immediately recognizable by his size.
Raoul.
He carried a steel case. He opened it and removed a clear plastic cylinder, full of a familiar grayish powder. The amalgam. They must have pulverized the bone down to its powdery form. Raoul slid the cylinder through the low opening into Saint Peter's tomb.
Plugging in the battery...
With everything in place, Gray could wait no longer. The apparatus was set. It was their one chance to catch the Court off guard, perhaps to drive them off, abandoning their gear behind.
"Ready to go blackout," Gray whispered. His hand moved to the transmitter that controlled the sonic and flash bombs. "Take out as many as you can while they're stunned, but don't take any needless chances. Keep moving. Stay out of sight."
Affirmatives answered him. Monk was holed up near the door. Kat and Rachel had found another crypt to hide themselves inside. The a.s.sault team remained unaware of their presence.
Gray watched the trio of men exit the tomb area, trailing wires that led to the device. Raoul closed the gate, s.h.i.+elding himself from any danger. Atop the metal platform, he pressed one hand against his ear, plainly communicating the okay to proceed.
"Blackout on the count of five," Gray whispered. "Earplugs in place, goggles blinkered closed. Here we go."
Gray counted down in his head. Five, four, three... Five, four, three... Blind, he rested one hand on his pistol and the other on the laptop. Blind, he rested one hand on his pistol and the other on the laptop. Two, one, zero Two, one, zero.
He hit the b.u.t.ton on the laptop.
Though deafened by his earplugs, he could feel the deep whump whump of the sonic charges behind his sternum. He waited a three-count for the strobing flash grenades to expire. He blinkered open his goggles, then yanked out the earplugs. Shots echoed across the necropolis. Gray rolled to the entrance to the crypt. of the sonic charges behind his sternum. He waited a three-count for the strobing flash grenades to expire. He blinkered open his goggles, then yanked out the earplugs. Shots echoed across the necropolis. Gray rolled to the entrance to the crypt.
Directly ahead, the metal platform was empty.
No one was in sight.
Raoul and his two men were gone.