The venetian code, p.6
The Venetian Code, page 6
X
Colossians 2:3
Locating the symbol, he alerted Rabinovitch, who in turn notified Novikov.
“So,” Rabinovitch, “the Roman numeral ten, is that a clever way of saying that X marks the spot?”
“Yes and no,” Novikov replied. “There is in the Greek alphabet the letter chi, spelled X. And in early Christianity since X was the first initial for the name of Christ, X was often used as the shorthand symbol for anything Christian, especially for Christ himself. Beneath it, Colossians 2:3 is a Christian verse: You will find the wisdom of Christ beneath the winged lion, in whom are all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge, as hidden treasures.” After a pause, he continued. “Though the biblical reference refers to the wealth of personal wisdom, I also see the keywords ‘hidden treasures.’” Novikov, turning and taking note of the people walking about, casually walked to the marble wall plate and gave it a few raps with his knuckles. Instead of sounding solid, he could hear an emptiness behind the wall. There was a hollow chamber behind it.
Then looking at the volume of people who came and went, Novikov sidled up to Rabinovitch and said, “Tonight, when the basilica is closed, we return for the treasure.”
“Are you sure it’s behind that wall?”
“We won’t know unless we look. But everything points to this location as the gateway to the Templar treasure.” He then pointed to the X on the wall. “Colossians 2:3,” he stated softly. “You will find the wisdom of Christ beneath the winged lion,” he pointed to the altar, “in whom are all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge, as hidden treasures.” Once again, he pointed at the X, the shorthand symbol for Christ. And then: “It has to be.”
Rabinovitch nodded. “Tonight then.”
Novikov, without showing emotion, turned and walked away with the others in tow.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
St. Mark’s Basilica
The Vatican Knights, along with the monsignors, entered the east façade of the basilica that was teeming with people.
“This is going to take forever,” Kimball commented.
“Maybe,” said Monsignor Calidonna. “But the clues are here.”
Kimball looked to his left, then to his right, then forward and behind—nothing but people, people, people.
It was midday with no chance of the crowd thinning.
“All right,” he said. “Earbuds in and lip mics on. Canvas everything. The bas-relief carvings on the walls. The images. The mosaics. The optimum focus here is to find matching symbols from the Giovanni Chiaravalle diary to match images inside the basilica. Look at everything as though it has a purpose.” Seeing Isaiah’s face and intuiting what his second lieutenant was pondering—that the task would be endless, he added, “Yeah, I know what you’re thinking,” he told him. “But the clues are here. Somewhere. They’d be in a location where a Templar Knight would have no difficulty locating them.” And then: “Everyone remembers the symbols?”
The memorization of all Vatican Knights was obscenely keen. Once they were required to remember something, the images would become ingrained in their memory. Merely seeing the image, whether it be on the wall as part of a painting or something carved in stone, would enable immediate recall.
After everyone either gave a thumbs up or murmured in response that they did understand, Kimball added, “Monsignor Calidonna will accompany me, Roman, and Job. Monsignor Russo will accompany Isaiah and Jeremiah. If you find anything, record it and call out.” Kimball tapped his earbud. “Understand?”
After acknowledging for a second time that they did, the group separated.
Now that the hunt for the Templar treasure had finally commenced . . .
. . . assuredly, two opposing forces were about to collide.
* * *
Though the Vatican Knights served to point out the images in the manuscript that were similar to the mosaic pieces, it was the monsignors who were the skilled symbologists and decoders who led the unit to the Tomb of St. Mark. After seeing the mosaic of Immanuel looking down at them from the gold cupola, they were able to piece the puzzle together. Behind the marble wall plate with the carved engraving of the letter X and the Bible verse Colossians 2:3, there appeared to be a hollow of some kind, perhaps a hidden entryway. If it was the steppingstone that led to the Templar treasure, smashing the wall seemed somewhat sacrilegious to the monsignors. This was, after all, the Tomb of St. Mark. Since there were no assurances that anything existed behind the marking, permission to violate the marble wall plate would have to be done so with the permission of the pontiff after climbing up the chain of command, starting with Vatican Intelligence. When Kimball said that doing so would simply tie them up with red tape and waste valuable time, the monsignors informed him that they had no choice. Though the signs inside the manuscript and the basilica had led them to this location, there was no definitive proof that what lay behind the marble wall plate, if anything, was the way to the treasure. And to disturb the Tomb of St. Mark would be considered a sacrilegious act.
Kimball, working the muscles in the back of his jaw, said, “It’s just a piece of marble. It’s not like it can’t be replaced.”
“That piece of marble,” replied Monsignor Calidonna, “has been there for centuries. And it is a part of the spiritual art you see around you that exemplifies Saint Mark, who is buried here. It cannot be readily destroyed without factual evidence that conclusively proves that the treasure lies beyond that wall.”
“From where I’m standing, Padre, the only way to find out, realistically, is by removing that wall. Keep in mind that Novikov and his crew have most likely arrived. They might have even been taken to this point after following the hints in the manuscript and the maps. What I’m saying is that time is not a luxury here. Sometimes, if you want something done, then you simply have to bite the bullet and press ahead.”
“Be as it may, Mr. Hayden, but Vatican protocols are just that, Vatican protocols. I do not have the power to override rules mandated by the Vatican.”
Kimball looked at the wall.
X
Colossians 2:3
X truly did mark the spot; this he was sure of. What was beyond that wall remained a mystery as much as the clues and hints that directed them to this particular point. The winged lion, the Latin proverbs, the symbolic meanings behind the mosaic pieces, all compasses that led them to the X. In Kimball’s heart, he knew that there was something behind the wall. A hidden chamber perhaps? One large enough to hold the Templar treasures and the Cup of Miracles. Frustrated, he believed them to be within arm’s length of achieving their goal, if not for the protocols.
“It’s your call,” Kimball finally said to Calidonna.
Within the hour, the monsignors reported to Vatican Intelligence with the details.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The Papal Chamber
Apostolic Palace
Vatican City
“But to desecrate the chamber of Saint Mark.” Pope Innocent IX appeared to be racked by this information. “Are the Vatican Knights sure of the cup’s location?”
The co-directors of Vatican Intelligence, Fathers Auciello and Essex, sat in the seats before the pontiff’s desk. But it was Father Auciello who answered. “They are ninety percent sure. The computer models back them up after inputting the data in ninety of the one hundred scenarios. There’s a good chance that the treasure is hidden behind the marble wall plate of Saint Mark’s tomb. To breach it, however, the wall must be destroyed.”
“But to desecrate the chamber of Saint Mark,” the pontiff repeated, “who was one of the four Evangelists.” And then: “Is there not another way?”
“No,” stated Father Essex. “If the treasure is behind that wall, then we have no other choice: we have to desecrate the Tomb of Saint Mark to get to the Cup of Miracles. And we have to do it now. Ivan Novikov and his team are somewhere in Venice, and we have been unable to pick up their movements. If Ivan Novikov is capable of deciphering the Venetian Code that’s spelled out between the manuscript and the maps, he will not hesitate to violate the tomb to get what he wants, which, of course, is the treasure.”
When the pontiff hesitated on this, Father Auciello said, “Your Holiness, we know that Novikov is somewhere in Venice, meaning that we haven’t much time. Should Novikov find the treasure first, it will be lost forever. The Vatican Knights are ready and are waiting on your call.”
After another long pause, the pontiff finally asked. “Novikov’s team, elite soldiers, or so I’ve been informed by your intel package—how much of a threat are they against the Vatican Knights?”
“Any unit comprised of combatants with elite skillsets is always a hazard. What takes this to the next threat level, however, is that Novikov’s team remains unseen because we haven’t been able to track them since they arrived in Venice.”
“Nor do we know if Novikov has been able to break the Venetian Code, either.”
“Since he’s in Venice and given his intellect, we have to assume that he knows something. Either way, if the treasure and the Cup of Miracles is behind that marble wall plate, then we have to take ownership of them. To do that, we have to desecrate the Tomb of Saint Mark.”
There was another long pause from the pontiff who was at war with his conscience by weighing the options of a difficult decision. To violate a holy shrine was considered a sacrilegious act that was once considered so egregious that burning in a pyre was a common sideshow attraction for the masses centuries ago. On the other hand, the violation of stealing the Cup of Miracles so that it could be displayed like a trophy by a treasure hunter instead of being treated like a religious relic had left a bitter taste in his mouth.
And then: “I do not make this decision lightly,” the pontiff stated miserably. “But do what needs to be done to obtain the Cup of Miracles.”
Father Auciello bowed his head in respect. “Very well, Your Holiness.”
After the priests stood and kissed the pontiff’s ring, they exited the chamber.
On the far wall and facing Pope Innocent IX was a painting of Jesus who lovingly held a lamb. His eyes appeared to be set on the pontiff, though not in judgment. But that didn’t curb the spiritual anguish that tormented his conscience at the moment. To achieve the means, he would have to desecrate one of the holiest shrines in all of Catholicism, that being the Tomb of St. Mark. Even though it was an order he reluctantly supported, he felt that he had no other choice.
Looking at the painting, the pontiff confessed out loud to the image of Christ that he saw no other way outside of desecrating the tomb of the Evangelist. Then he asked for understanding and forgiveness.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Piazza San Marco Square
Venice, Italy
2147 Hours
The advantage of being invisible lies in using the shadows of the night. Under the cover of darkness, Novikov’s team was moving against St. Mark’s Basilica. With the wide-open space of Piazza San Marco Square, few people moved about. By 2202 hours, the square was bare.
From their position approximately 120 yards from the entryway, the basilica appeared abandoned and silent with nothing but the lights illuminating the façade. But after doing his due diligence, Ivan Novikov knew that six sentries guarded the church as though it was an ancient keep holding something spectacular within. In this case, however, not a single one would know of the secret the basilica truly kept.
Novikov, though he wore black to blend in with the shadows, appeared as a smartly dressed man, whereas Rabinovitch’s team wore flak jackets and composite shields to guard their forearms and shins. Outside of Novikov, the Spetsnaz mercenaries used black grease to mask their appearances. The whites of their eyes shone brilliantly against the blackface, making Novikov question the purpose of using the grease if the eyes were going to appear in stark contrast to the flesh.
Moments later, a silhouette crossed the front of the basilica, a guard who appeared complacent, if not entirely lackadaisical, in his duties as he twirled his baton while looking skyward at the partial face of the moon.
“Mr. Rabinovitch,” Novikov stated softly, “before he’s out of sight.”
The Russian took a few steps forward, raised his weapon to eye level, and took aim. In the ruby lens of his scope as the center of the crosshairs focused on the guard’s temple, he locked onto his target and pulled the trigger of the suppressed weapon.
. . . Phffft . . .
A single shot.
A single strike.
After the guard’s head snapped violently to one side, he remained standing on his feet as though his mind was trying to catch up and register his death. As soon as it did, he fell straight down to the pavement as a boneless heap.
“That’s one,” Novikov whispered. “The rest are inside. Be quick and efficient when taking out the rest. Mistakes are not an option and will not be tolerated.”
Spreading out, Rabinovitch’s unit moved against the basilica.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Vatican Safe House
Venice, Italy
2152 Hours
It was late in the evening when the Vatican Knights received word from Vatican Intelligence that the pontiff reluctantly agreed with the desecration of the Tomb of St. Mark to retrieve the Cup of Miracles, seeing the undertaking as the lesser of two evils between violating the Tomb or allowing Novikov to steal the relic.
“About time,” Kimball commented under his breath as he read the message.
Immediately after receiving the message, Kimball told his team to ready up. They were about to breach the wall that hid a great treasure.
What they didn’t know at the moment was that another faction was also on the move.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The Command Center of Vatican Intelligence
Vatican City
2203 Hours
“We have movement,” a Jesuit tech stated from his console as he zoomed in from an overhead satellite. On the wall where a bank of monitors showed hotspots around the globe, the tech provided a close-up view with thermal images being tracked across the Piazza San Marco Square. Onscreen, nine thermal images moved swiftly across the plaza, and, after dragging the tenth figure off-screen, the shapes disappeared.
Fathers Auciello and Essex, after informing Kimball of the green light to desecrate the Tomb of St. Mark, realized that the images, though the identities of those had yet to be confirmed, belonged to Ivan Novikov and his team of mercenaries.
“Is it Novikov’s team?” Father Auciello asked the Jesuit tech.
The tech shrugged. “Unknown.”
“Playback and zoom in.”
The tech did as he was ordered. Zooming in, the heated images were in colors of red, orange and yellow, but it could be seen that they were carrying firearms of some type, most likely assault weapons by their length.
“Zoom in further,” Auciello ordered. “And change to night vision.”
The screen went from the bright colors of thermal mode to the green illumination provided by the night-vision mode. With NV mode having clear advantages when compared to thermal, they could see men advancing against the basilica with their weapons raised to eye level. On the ground laying prone was the first of their victims, a guard, who was quickly dragged from view.
Auciello glanced at his watch which read 2209 hours. The Vatican Knights, he knew, were already on the move. But point A of the safe house to point B of the basilica was a fifteen-minute stretch. And with the aged monsignors in tow, the time could have been significantly longer.
“Contact Master Commander Hayden,” said Father Auciello. “Tell him that there’s no longer any doubt. Ivan Novikov has breached the castle fully armed and fully manned.”
“Yes, Father.”
Typing in the information, the Jesuit tech sent a decrypted message to Kimball’s receiving device.
* * *
Venice, Italy
Staying close to the shadows was key for the Vatican Knights who wanted to remain unseen by the public eye. Fully armed and geared, they moved swiftly towards the basilica when Kimball’s smartwatch started to vibrate. It was an incoming message from Vatican Intelligence. Holding up his team, he hit the ‘on’ icon, the decrypt button, and then the message appeared on the watch’s face, though he had to scroll through it to read the entire message.
Hostile forces (9) have breached the target location, fully armed with assault weapons. One (unverified) casualty. Implement full rules of engagement.
Kimball turned off the watch. “Ivan Novikov has marched against the basilica,” he told his team. “He knows about the treasure.”
“We’re not too far from Saint Marks,” said Monsignor Calidonna.
“Are you two” –Kimball pointed to Monsignor Russo—"up to maintaining a quick pace?”
“For the sake of the Cup of Miracles,” Monsignor Calidonna started, “we must, and we will.”
Kimball admired their allegiance to the church. And then: “There’s going to be combat,” he informed them. “No way around that since they’re running weapons heavy. They’re not going to surrender the treasure without a match to do so.”
“And what is my life in comparison to the Cup of Miracles,” Monsignor Calidonna returned. “Though life has its value, the Cup of Miracles represents true divinity, whereas I am merely a simple vessel who carries a spiritual heart like many others. When my time comes, I believe it to be His will. If it’s in the attempt to receive the cup in His name, then so be it. I am not afraid, Kimball, of death that comes to us all eventually, because I know in the end that He will greet me with the Light of Loving Spirits.”
