The venetian code, p.4
The Venetian Code, page 4
“I have. But I’ve also heard that it could be as much as folklore as it is real.”
“That may be true,” said Father Auciello. “But the Templars were hardly the fabricators of lies. They operated under a similar credo as the Vatican Knights: Loyalty above all else except honor.” And then: “Have you ever heard of the diary of Giovanni Chiaravalle?”
“I can’t say that I have.”
“It was a manuscript that was—allegedly—discovered inside a chest that contained the enigmatic writings—both alchemical and mysterious symbols—that spelled out the treasure’s location in Venice. Now, what we do know is that the Templars used Venice as a central post since the Venetians were pro-Templar, even after the arrest warrants were granted by Philip the Fair. The manuscript, which was appropriated by a monk from the Abbey of Santa Maria di Rovegnano in Milan nearly a decade ago, has recently been sold on the black market to a German philanthropist, Maximillian Müller, who was found dead in his estate along with his detail. It was believed that the purchased manuscript that contained the codes and maps leading to the Templar trove was the only item seized, even though rare volumes worth tens of millions of euros remained untouched.”
“And the manuscript, it’s believed to be real?”
“It is.”
“But the existence of the treasure may not be.”
“Also, true. But if it does exist, Kimball, there is a relic that needs to find its way back to the Vatican. A cup.”
Kimball cocked his head slightly at the mention of the word. “The Holy Grail?”
Father Auciello said, “No. The Holy Grail never existed. It has become a mythical legend that has been popularized recently by books and movies, with its origination point first established in eighteenth-century literature. There is no mention or viable interpretation of its existence in the Bible.”
“Then, what are we talking about here?’
“I’m talking about the Cup of Miracles used when Jesus turned water into wine, the first of His true miracles that united the apostles after John witnessed the event when he received the cup from the Holy Messiah.”
“So, you’re asking me to gather a team to seek out this treasure that may not exist. Is that what I’m hearing?”
“I’m not asking you, Kimball, the pontiff is. The Cup of Miracles is a true relic that cannot wind up in the hands of a treasure seeker who is responsible for the deaths of five people while trying to seize the manuscript. His taste for seeking relics of unique value gives him a capability that’s limitless as to what he will do to own them . . . Especially murder.”
“You said the manuscript was in the possession of monks at one time, in Milan.”
Father Auciello nodded. “Ten years ago, it was stolen, even though it was under the protection of the abbey’s monks. Vatican Intelligence began an interpretation of the manuscript trying to decode the ciphers and riddles. But as violence in the Middle East grew, our attentions were pulled away from analyzing the manuscript to analyzing current threats to allied nations and religious orders that were not in line with the ideologies of Islamic extremists.”
“So, the writings and codes in the manuscript remain a mystery?”
“Correct.”
“As does the precise location of the Templar treasure if it exists.”
“Correct.”
“And how are we supposed to find the trove if the codes have yet to be deciphered? The Templars were absolute masters in covering their trail. Why would a Templar Knight create such a tome only to jeopardize the treasure’s location?”
“So that the Templars who escaped Philip the Fair’s clutches could find the treasure and use it to rebuild the Templar force, though that never happened. The manuscript was written in such a way that if someone outside the Templar order happened to come upon the tome, then it would be considered too difficult for anyone to make sense of it. Perhaps the writing itself is a built-in safety feature that has lasted centuries.”
“My point exactly,” said Kimball. “How am I supposed to find the Templar treasure when the codes have yet to be deciphered?”
“Your team will be accompanied by two historians who specialize in symbology. They will pave the way.”
“And if they fail?’
“They mustn’t. The Cup of Miracles must either be proven that it exists or that it doesn’t exist. That is your primary objective: to establish the certainty of its existence or not. Find the location mapped out by the last Templar Knight. If nothing is there, then the site is either fake or the treasure was discovered long ago. Either way, the man who seeks it cannot discover the truth before the Vatican Knights do.”
“And the man who seeks it?”
“A Russian oligarch by the name of Ivan Novikov. He often surrounds himself with mercenaries when he needs them to serve his purposes, usually military technicians who once operated for Russian Spetsnaz units.”
“Elite forces.”
“Yes.” And then: “Find the site before they do. Learn if the Cup of Miracles remains hidden as stated in the manuscript and, if it does, bring it home to the Vatican.”
“Sounds like a blind scavenger hunt if you ask me. I believe the resources of the Vatican Knights are best suited to perform elsewhere.” Kimball looked at the screens along the wall and pointed out the skirmishes in the Middle East and Ukraine. There were rising pillars of smoke in Ukraine after recent bombings from Russian missiles, and terrorist units were once again reestablishing themselves in the Middle East after the U.S. withdrawal, the cells once again becoming emboldened.
“Conflicts are a part of human nature, unfortunately.” This came from Father Essex, a Brit. “And the conflict we see on these monitors do not fall under the three principles to engage the Vatican Knights.”
This was most likely true, Kimball thought, since the Vatican Knights were mobilized under three conditions: to protect the sovereignty of the Vatican State, to protect the interests of the church, and to protect the welfare of the church’s citizenry. What was going on in the Middle East and Ukraine did not fall under the principles as they currently stood. But retrieving the Cup of Miracles was since it was a categorized interest of the Vatican.
“Understood,” Kimball finally said.
Father Essex said. “Gather a team as soon as you can. The historians will be notified of your departure. We’ll be monitoring Venice from here using facial and gait-recognition software to locate Ivan Novikov the moment he arrives.”
“If he arrives.”
“He and his team have left Dubai with, we believe, Venice to be their final destination. We’re trying to get a transponder fix on their charter, but it’s been difficult thus far.”
“How long ago did they leave Dubai?”
“Three hours ago.”
“We have plenty of time since Venice is an hour's flight from Rome. Keep me posted.”
“Of course,” said Father Auciello. “There’ll be a folder regarding the biographical history of Ivan Novikov onboard the plane. We have no information about the members of his team, however. They’re ghosts.”
“Then we’ll learn who they are along the way, I guess.”
As soon as Kimball left the chamber to gather his unit, Fathers Auciello and Essex turned their focus to the wall monitors. Smoke, fire, mayhem, and battles—the world appeared to be coming apart at the seams.
CHAPTER SIX
Charter Flight to Venice
1634 Hours
It didn’t take long for Kimball to choose his team. With the always reverent Isaiah by his side as his second lieutenant; he also chose Job, the big man from Germany; Jeremiah, the team’s stalwart fighter from Australia; and Roman, who was a greenhorn on his first mission. Also onboard were the two Vatican historians, Monsignors Russo and Calidonna.
As the charter was climbing to its optimum altitude of 25,000 feet, Kimball was pouring over the biographical history of Ivan Novikov. The oligarch, having made his fortune in metallurgy was not only an astute businessman but also a brilliant man with a recorded IQ of 170. And coupled with his ability as a professional marksman, that made him a dangerous man.
After leafing through the pages of Novikov’s life that detailed his position within the Russian hierarchy of wealthy principals, Kimball also learned that the oligarch had the ear and respect of major political heads of state as well. As the plane started to descend, Kimball set the folder aside and took a seat beside Monsignors Russo and Calidonna. The Monsignors were examining the mysterious symbols on their iPads which had been downloaded from the manuscripts studied at the abbey ten years ago in Milan. There were words and phrases both in Italian and Latin, presumably riddles. And then there were the symbols whose meanings had eluded them at the moment.
“We’re descending into Marco Polo,” Kimball told them. Then he pointed to their iPads “Anything?”
Monsignor Calidonna shrugged. “Yes and no,” he answered. “We know what the alchemical symbols mean, but we don’t understand their relationship with the text. This is not going to be an easy task to decipher the Templar codes. And on top of that, we haven’t much time.”
“Yeah, I know. Time is never a luxury when you need it most.”
“But if it’s any consolation,” Monsignor Calidonna added, “and without sounding too narcissistic about our abilities, the good Monsignor Russo and I are the best symbologists the Vatican has to offer, which is why the pontiff volunteered our services. If the treasure’s out there and these symbols lead the way, we’ll find it.”
Kimball feigned a lazy smile. “I know you will,” he told him.
Leaving the symbologists to study the clues, Kimball made his way to the rear of the plane and sat next to Roman. The newest member of the team appeared so young that growing a beard may have been an impossibility for him, his face perpetually porcelain smooth. The word from the Vatican Council claimed that Roman was ready as a combatant since his skillsets had been honed to such a high degree that he had earned the title of Vatican Knight.
When the newest Vatican Knight saw Kimball take the seat next to him, Roman sat up abruptly and squared his shoulders. “Master Commander,” he said.
“Relax,” Kimball told him. “First of all, do not call me by my call sign Archangel or Master Commander. Always call me Kimball.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And don’t call me ‘sir,’ either. Makes me feel older than I am.”
Roman nodded.
Then from Kimball. “Look, I know this is your first mission and I know that you’re nervous, which is to be expected. If you follow policy and procedure and listen to your teammates, you’ll be fine. Fall back on your training and call upon your skillset when you need them most. You’ll find that they’ll serve you well when you need them.”
Roman nodded, though his face displayed nervous tension.
“You’re going to be just fine,” Kimball told him, then he patted Roman’s thigh in the assurance that the newest Vatican Knight was going to fit in as an important part of the team’s framework and do well.
Then moving to an open seat set apart from the rest of his team, Kimball sat and wondered if they were being sent on a mission that had no chance of succeeding, or if the Templar treasure truly existed.
I guess, he thought, we’re about to find out.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Marco Polo Airport
1947 Hours
Ivan Novikov’s team, along with Rabinovitch and the big Russian, who was known only as Vladimir with no last name, was manned by six other mercenaries with impressive backgrounds as elite soldiers with a high degree of military sophistication. According to Rabinovitch, these were the best men that money could buy.
By the time the plane landed, the day was on the verge of sunset as the citrusy colors of light along the horizon began to fade into purple hues. Novikov set himself up in a five-star hotel, but he housed Rabinovitch and his team inside the two-star variety, which didn’t sit well with Rabinovitch or the members of his team, especially with Vladimir, who appeared as though he was ready to bring down the house. But Novikov looked upon these men as pawns of lesser value. To him, they were trifling fools made of lead when he was pure gold.
Sitting by the window of his suite that overlooked the canals, Novikov was going through the pages of the manuscript that was appropriated from Müller. Some of the pages had the smell of old parchment, that scent of valued antiquity. He also noted the recognizable alchemical symbols and characters.
The Philosophers Stone: the ability to turn lead into gold.
The Water symbol is a triangle that’s pointed downward.
The Alchemic symbol for gold is a circle within a circle.
The second Alchemic symbol for gold is a radiating sun.
Novikov sighed. He knew the aged symbols, but he didn’t know their context in the scheme of the writing and passages. Then he read Latin, a language he was familiar with, as well as Italian. No matter how hard he racked his mind to find a glimmer of an answer, he was unable to be enlightened by the pages.
As the midnight hour passed, Novikov remained tireless as he continued to examine the pages for the details that were hidden inside of details. And then he found it, that spark of hope on the sixth page of the manuscript were three symbols that were surrounded by the Latin phrase: Iter Recro Incipit Ab Hoc Primo Gradu. (The journey to revival begins with this first step).
Iter Recro Incipit
١ ⇭
DCCCXXIX
Ab Hoc Primo Gradu
. . . This First Step . . .
The first step to what?
A moment later, a revelation. “Of course,” he whispered. “What better way is there to hide something than to hide it in plain sight? It was in front of me all the time . . . and I missed it.”
The symbols no longer escaped him.
The first symbol (١) was part of the basilica’s Islamic influence and was the Islamic numeral for ONE, representing the ‘first step,’ a starting point.
The second symbol: ⇭, represented a church.
The last symbol: DCCCXXIX, was the Roman numeral for 829.
Ivan Novikov double-checked his findings before he came to a final conclusion by leafing through the aged maps to find the specific chart that would confirm his results. Less than a minute later, he located the symbols on a piece of yellowing parchment. The images were small and were easily missed after several passings of the manuscript. He would have missed it entirely if not for the Latin verse, which was a clue as to the first step to be taken in the hunt for the treasure. The symbol of the church and the number 829 also had a specific meaning.
Ivan Novikov, stepping onto the balcony of his suite and feeling a soft breeze, could see St. Mark’s Basilica in the distance with its facade magnificently exhibited by lights.
“Iter Recro Incipit Ab Hoc Primo Gradu,” he said. “The journey to revival begins with this first step.” It was a message meant for the Templars, Novikov realized, who happened to find their way to Venice. Discovering the treasure would have revived the Templar forces. And the way to the treasure, Novikov now understood, was to take the first steps of the treasure hunt from the steppingstones of St. Mark’s Basilica, which began construction in the year 829.
Ivan Novikov’s smile flourished. To understand the riddle, he thought further, then one would need to know history. How many people would know that the start of the basilica’s creation began in 829?
. . . No one . . .
Millions have entered and exited the church over the last seven centuries, he considered, all who remained clueless of the treasure that was close by. But tomorrow, I will begin my thousand-mile journey with that single step . . . And I will walk away with the trophy that is the Cup of Miracles.
In the distance, the basilica, in the glory of its bathing lights, was beyond beautiful.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The Command Center of Vatican Intelligence
Vatican City
When Ivan Novikov’s team touched down at the Marco Polo International Airport in Venice, it didn’t take long for the Vatican’s facial recognition software program to detect and analyze the landmarks on the oligarch’s face. Then the system quickly established the identities of those he was with, all former members of the Russian Spetsnaz. The most concerning and considered the most dangerous were Sergei Rabinovitch and Vladimir Pushkin. Both Rabinovitch and Pushkin were mercenaries who brutalized their targets as though they relished the kill more than they were interested in achieving the means—the cat-and-mouse syndrome where the predator toyed with its prey before the kill. The others were soldiers of elite military sophistication, with the presumption by the Vatican being that Novikov was launching a high-end operation.
After obtaining and piecing together the biographical histories of those within Ivan Novikov’s team, Vatican Intelligence sent the digital files to Kimball Hayden in Venice.
* * *
The Vatican Knights’ Safe House
Venice, Italy
It was late in the evening when Kimball received an incoming message from the Vatican on his laptop. Sitting before the monitor with the screen’s light washing over his face, Kimball read the encrypted message from Father Auciello informing him that Novikov’s team had arrived in Venice. When Kimball uploaded the intel package, eight dossiers marked with Russian names appeared onscreen.
As he read the histories of Novikov’s team, Kimball realized that the Russian oligarch had surrounded himself with heavy hitters. These were not just your run-of-the-mill fighters; these were soldiers of the highest caliber.
Whereas most had fallen under the category of trained fighters, two stood out from the rest: Sergei Rabinovitch and Vladimir Pushkin. Not only did they serve in Russia’s Spetsnaz units, but they also directed kill squads to perform assassinations across Europe and the United States. Of the two, it was Vladimir Pushkin, a big man standing six-six and weighing nearly 300 pounds, who fit the prototypical Russian henchman—that of being big, beefy, and equipped with a lateral scar that ran across his brow—who appeared to have a skinny range of emotions according to his file. According to the data, the man had been groomed to be nothing less than a machine with a sympathetic desire to kill. Oddly, Kimball thought about the similarities between them, even though they came from opposite ends of the spectrum.
