The Atlantis Code

CHAPTER 22

The screams of the wounded men filled the cavern and barely penetrated the sense of unreality that flooded Father Sebastian’s mind. Ignoring the huge door now several feet ajar and filled with the inky blackness of the dark cave, he went to help the nearest man lashed by the snapping cable.

Brancati yelled at his workers to tend to the men as well, then joined them as first-aid kits arrived. It was a brutal, bloody business for several minutes.

Thankfully, none of the men had been killed outright. Given the situation, it could have been so much worse.

That no one died… The Lord was at work here to save them all, Sebastian thought. May His mercy reign over us all as we proceed.

After he’d finished his work with the wounded, he cleaned his hands with a sterile cloth. He’d refused to wait until gloves were available to begin giving first aid. By the time the workers had passed out surgical gloves, he’d already attended to several of the most serious injuries.

“Do you believe in evil portents, Father?” Brancati asked.

“I believe in all that proceeds from the hand of the Lord,” Sebastian answered. “But I also believe in accidents. The men here are tired, stressed out from everything we have dealt with. We must proceed carefully.”

“I agree.” Brancati passed Sebastian one of the big flashlights the men carried in addition to their helmet lights. The construction boss led the way into the next chamber.

Sebastian stayed close behind. The two Swiss Guards assigned to his personal protection flanked him.

The next cave was even larger than the last. It was a gaping maw of stone. Stalactites and stalagmites looked like wicked teeth as the flashlight beams swept across them. The cavern was dry, indicating that the chamber had been airtight until they’d opened the door.

“Maybe we’d better let the cave breathe a little while, Father,” Brancati suggested. “In case the change in air pressure creates a problem like it did in the last cave.”

Sebastian made himself nod. He didn’t want to leave the room, but he knew that was safest.

“Father Sebastian,” a man called.

Sebastian turned toward the voice. He spotted two men playing their flashlights over an inscription carved into the wall. Drawn by the words, he made his way over to them.

Again, for a moment, the words were almost impossible to make out. Sebastian squinted and tried again. This time he saw the message.

Sebastian couldn’t understand the message, but he could read it. He stared at it for a long time, then turned and surveyed the huge cavern again.

“Over here!” someone else yelled. “Father Sebastian, over here!”

Hurrying to the voice, aided by his flanking Swiss Guards, Sebastian found a long line of walls that had been chipped smooth then engraved with pictures. The engravings were spaced like the leaves of a giant stone book. The intricate work represented several lifetimes of effort by the people who had carved it.

The first picture was of a huge forest. A man and a woman stood naked in a clearing. Numerous animals lay at their feet or watched from nearby. Birds filled the branches of the trees around them.

“Blessed Mother,” Sebastian whispered. Hypnotized by what he saw before him, he stepped forward and ran his trembling fingers over the beautifully carved surface.

“What is this?” Brancati asked quietly.

“It’s the Garden of Eden,” Sebastian croaked. “Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden.”

Several of the men crossed themselves and took off their protective helmets till Brancati growled at them to put them back on.

“Are you trying to tell me that this place was the Garden of Eden?” Brancati asked.

“No,” Sebastian said. “This place wasn’t the Garden of Eden. This place was a part of Atlantis. Or whatever the people who we know as Atlanteans called themselves.”

“Why carve these pictures into the walls?”

“So they wouldn’t forget. So they wouldn’t follow Adam and Eve into folly.” Sebastian shone his light farther back and found another picture. This one showed God’s hand fashioning Adam from clay.

“The whole story is here,” Peter said. “These images tell the biblical story of creation.”

“Is this God?” Martin asked reverently.

Sebastian strode through the twists and turns of the cavern and found another man standing in front of a picture of Adam and Eve in the jungle. In the drawing, a second man stood nearby the couple. He held a thick book in one hand. A glowing halo hung over his head.

“No,” Sebastian said. “It’s not God.”

“Then who is it?” Martin asked.

“I’m not sure. But I think that’s His son.”

Hunched over the notebook computer, Cardinal Stefano Murani studied the streaming video coming out of the dig site only a few miles away. He’d arranged the safe house in case he needed a bolt-hole. It was one of the small houses in the area that were sometimes rented out to tourists. It didn’t afford him the kind of luxury that he was accustomed to, but it was within a few miles of the Cádiz dig site and the Atlantic Ocean.

When he saw the pictures deep within the center of the new cave beyond the massive metal door, Murani watched with growing excitement. Sebastian had gotten close to the goal the pope had hoped he would reach.

Are these wall carvings illustrations from the Book? Murani asked himself. He flicked through the captured images. The work that had gone into the finished pieces was astounding.

The answer, for the moment, was that he didn’t know. He needed to be inside the caves.

His cell phone chirped for attention. He flipped it open and answered. “Yes.”

“We’ll be there in five minutes or less,” Gallardo said.

“I’ll see you then.” Murani closed the phone, disconnected the computer from the Internet, and shut it down. He walked to the front door and passed the security setups the Swiss Guard who had chosen to follow him had put into place. Cameras watched over the surrounding terrain.

Lieutenant Milo Sbordoni sat in a chair on the covered porch. In his thirties, Sbordoni was a handsome man with chiseled features and a fierce black goatee that flipped up on the end. Like the other guardsmen under his command, Sbordoni wore tactical armor festooned with weapons. There had been no doubt they would take over the Cádiz dig site after Gallardo had Lourds.

“Cardinal.” Sbordoni got to his feet. Oil glistened on the pistol and rifle he carried.

“It’s time,” Murani said.

“Good,” Sbordoni said. He smiled, then passed orders to his men to assemble.

The Swiss Guard rose to readiness. They passed out even more weapons. A large cargo truck out on the street rumbled to life.

“I’ll need a word with your men,” Murani said.

Sbordoni quickly gave the command. The men assembled around Murani. Due to their size and the armor they wore, Murani stood dwarfed among them. Still, they acknowledged his office and stood quietly while he addressed them.

“You are my brothers in arms,” Murani said. “You are the best that the Swiss Guard at the Vatican has to offer. More than that, you have also recognized the holiness of God’s Word in ways that many of those in that place have forgotten.

“The Church has grown weak. We must strengthen her.” Murani paused. “Some of you for years have known about the Society of Quirinus and how the cardinals in that group have chosen to work with the past popes to recover things that have been lost over the last thousands of years. A few of you who have been blessed by God have gotten a chance to assist in locating and taking custody of some of those things.”

Those men nodded. Sbordoni was among them. All of them carried scars from those battles. The Church wasn’t the only entity that searched for powerful artifacts. And the Society of Quirinus hadn’t always succeeded in obtaining what it sought. At times the treasures had been lost again, or had fallen into enemy hands.

“What we’re after tonight is the most important artifact God has ever delivered to his chosen people,” Murani said. “It has the power to remake the world.”

Sbordoni’s eyes met Murani. The Swiss Guard lieutenant nodded in anticipation.

“It was used once before,” Murani said. “By unbelievers and those corrupt with the lust for power. They wanted to be like God.” He paused. “This is God’s holiest work, and it must be used by those who love God. I know you love God as I love God. Together, we will make this world once more into the place that God intended for it to be.”

“Praise God,” Sbordoni said.

Murani asked them to bow their heads while he prayed to Mary for her protection.

Lourds sat bound in the canopy-covered back of a truck. His head felt like a balloon, and he was groggy from the aftereffects of the drug he’d been given.

Beside him, Leslie looked bleary-eyed as well. “Where are we?” she asked.

“I don’t know.” Lourds swept his gaze over the night-darkened coastline visible through the opening at the rear of the truck. Moonlight shone on the rolling waves. “Near the sea.”

“When did they get you?” Leslie licked her lips and tested the handcuffs.

“After they got you,” Lourds told her. “They told me they’d kill you if I didn’t come to them.”

“Your new girlfriend didn’t stop them?”

Lourds sighed. Being taken captive was dangerous enough, but being held captive with a young woman with an axe to grind over amorous misadventures was worse.

The drug she’d been given had caused her to talk while she’d been unconscious. She hadn’t been generous in her references to Lourds. The offensive comments had provided tremendous entertainment to Gallardo’s minions. Lourds was just thankful he hadn’t recovered much earlier than she had.

“I’m not the only thing they used you to get. Gallardo called and told me if I didn’t give him the instruments, he was going to kill you.”

“You gave them the instruments?” she shrieked.

“Yes. Gallardo meant it. That part about killing you, I mean.”

“I bet that didn’t go over well with the new girlfriend. The part about you giving up the instruments for me.”

“Natasha isn’t my new girlfriend,” Lourds said.

“Don’t tell me she decided to just use you and lose you?” Leslie feigned sympathy.

“Why are you worried about my love life?” Lourds held up his manacled wrists. “Has it occurred to you that we might be in some trouble here?”

“You have a point.” Leslie took a look around at the hard faces of the men guarding them. “Okay. You’re right. The good thing is that they haven’t killed us.”

“That,” Lourds said, “might not be as good a thing as you think.”

After the truck rolled to a stop, one of the men grabbed a fistful of Lourds’s shirt and yanked him to his feet. The man hauled Lourds to the rear of the truck, then over the tailgate. It hurt like fury.

His captors didn’t seem to be too worried about bruising the merchandise.

Lourds tripped and fell heavily to the ground, his breath rushing out of his lungs. Spots whirled in front of his eyes. Before he had a chance to recover, the man in charge of him yanked him roughly to his feet. Pain burned through Lourds’s wrists. He pushed himself upright as quickly as he could.

An elegant man in cardinal’s robes stepped in front of Lourds. A small army bristling with weapons stood behind him.

“Professor Lourds,” the man said. “I’m Cardinal Stefano Murani.” He smiled.

The priest’s expression sent chills down Lourds’s spine.

“Under the circumstances, I can’t say this introduction is exactly a pleasure,” Lourds said.

Leslie pressed in close to him. In the face of so many foes, she wasn’t quite so unforgiving of his past trespasses in the boudoir.

“Not a pleasure at all,” Murani said. “But you have been something of a surprise. A pleasant surprise for me, but I’m afraid it could end unpleasantly for you.”

Lourds didn’t say anything, but cold, unrelenting fear wormed through his stomach.

“Have you figured out the riddle of the instruments?” Murani asked.

“No.”

Murani raised his voice. “Lieutenant Sbordoni.”

A lean man with a jutting goatee stepped forward and unlimbered a pistol. “Cardinal?”

“The woman, I think,” Murani said.

Immediately the man raised the pistol to point at Leslie. Lourds stepped between the pistol and Leslie. She gripped his shirt and held him firmly in place in front of her. It wasn’t exactly the reaction Lourds had hoped for, but he couldn’t blame her.

The bearded lieutenant Murani had called Sbordoni barked an order. Two men stepped forward and grabbed Leslie. She yelled, kicked, and screamed as they pulled her away.

“Thou shalt not kill!” Lourds shouted. “That’s one of the top ten edicts from God, isn’t it?”

Murani’s soldiers pressed Leslie to the ground. The lieutenant stood over her with his pistol aimed point-blank into her face.

“That commandment is not applicable when soldiers have to go out and fight holy wars for God,” Murani said. “And this is a war. You have become our enemy. God will forgive us the trespasses we make in His name today. We’re here to rid the world of evil. The instruments you located are our weapons.” He stared at Leslie on the ground. She’d curled into a fetal position, but her hands over her face wouldn’t stop bullets. “You will help us. I’m willing to have the girl killed to prove to you how serious I am in this regard.”

“I haven’t figured out the riddle of the instruments,” Lourds said as truthfully as he could. There hadn’t been a riddle in what he’d translated yet. “I’m still working on the inscription. I’ve got most of it. But there’s no mention of a riddle.”

Murani looked at him.

“I swear to you,” Lourds said. “I’ll help you do whatever you want to do. I don’t want her to die. I don’t want to die either.” Blood roared in his ears as his heart hammered frantically. “I’ll try again. That’s the best that I can do.”

The cardinal stared fixedly. Finally, when Lourds was growing more certain that Murani was going to have Leslie killed anyway, Murani looked at the lieutenant and said, “Bring her along.”

Thank God, Lourds thought. He let out a breath. Somehow, it didn’t seem to ease the tightness in his chest.

“Load them into the truck,” Murani commanded.

Hard hands grabbed Lourds again. He gritted his teeth against the pain and endured.

Once more seated in the uncomfortable confines of a truck, Lourds sat on the metal deck between two long benches of the black-suited warriors. He believed the men were Swiss Guards, and that they hailed from Rome. He’d deduced most of that from the conversations he’d overheard.

A short length of chain connected Lourds’s manacles to the truck bed. No running to safety this time. He rocked and surged as the truck traveled over the uneven terrain.

Flaps hung across the rear opening of the truck kept most of the view outside at bay, but there was enough sway to the journey they were on to occasionally open them to the view outside. The course they were on shadowed the coastline. Lourds’s attention was torn between Leslie, Murani, and watching for landmarks he could use to let police know where they were.

Leslie sat beside Lourds. Her body bumped softly against his and brought back memory of more pleasant times. It also reminded Lourds how vulnerable Leslie was.

Despite the apparent willingness of these men to kill for Cardinal Murani, Lourds didn’t think they would rape Leslie. At least she was safe from that. He hoped. Gallardo and his crew sat among the guardsmen, too. Their hot gazes often traveled to Leslie. Lourds found it uncomfortably easy to read their intentions.

“Thomas.”

Lourds looked at Leslie. “Yes?” he asked.

“I’m sorry.” Unshed tears glimmered in her eyes.

“For what?” Lourds felt sorry for her. She hadn’t been trained for something like this. Neither had he. Truthfully, he felt sorry for both of them.

“For being such a bitch.”

“Look, the night with Natasha…” Lourds stopped, unsure what to say. The night with Natasha had been incredibly wonderful. So had the nights with Leslie. But he didn’t think he owed anyone an apology. He’d been up front with his intentions the whole time. He liked women. He wasn’t ready to settle down with any one woman. And he hadn’t pursued either of the women. They’d made themselves available.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” she said.

Lourds relaxed. A little. Sometimes when women faced trying or difficult times, they said things they thought they were supposed to say but not what they truly felt. He’d learned that the hard way.

“At least, not really wrong. You’re a guy and you have some basic limitations. And you aren’t, as a species, terribly loyal.”

In the corner of the truck, Gallardo and one of his men listened to this conversation and grinned.

“Perhaps there would be a more appropriate time for us to discuss this,” Lourds suggested.

“There may not be another time for us,” Leslie said. She looked exasperated. “This isn’t exactly an ‘oops’ situation where we’re going to be inconvenienced for a while then returned to our normal lives.”

“I was rather hoping it would be.”

Leslie rolled her eyes at him. “We’re sitting in a truck full of bad guys, and you want to go Pollyanna on me?”

Lourds suddenly realized she was on the verge of getting mad at him all over again.

“We’re not ‘bad guys,’ ” Murani said.

“Yeah, right.” Leslie shifted her attention to the cardinal. “Like kidnapping people and threatening to shoot them is so heroic?”

“I’m trying to save the world,” Murani protested. “I’m not the villain.”

Anger flooded through Lourds when he thought how Gallardo — or one of the other men in Murani’s employ — had killed Yuliya, and shot at Leslie’s team back in Alexandria. No matter what the man said, Murani was a villain.

“And how do you propose to save the world?” Leslie demanded.

Murani sighed. “Through God’s Word. Now be silent or I’ll have you gagged.”

Leslie quieted, but she leaned more heavily against Lourds.

“Anyway, I’m sorry,” Leslie said to him in a whisper.

Lourds nodded.

She looked at him with irritation. “Aren’t you going to tell me you’re sorry, too?”

Lourds froze. What was he supposed to be sorry for? He took a guess. “I’m sorry I convinced you to go along with me.”

Leslie growled at him and shifted away. “You,” she declared, “are an idiot.”

Gallardo and his men laughed out loud. Even Murani seemed somewhat amused.

Lourds couldn’t believe he was supposed to fear for his life and feel guilty about his relationships with women at the same time. If he wasn’t so curious about what they were going to find at the Cádiz dig, he figured he’d have gone mad by now. He concentrated on remembering the inscription. He rebuilt the language again in his mind so he could translate it once more.

Later — although how much time had passed, Lourds couldn’t be certain — the truck stopped. Voices sounded outside the truck. A glance through the open flaps before one of the guardsmen tied them together revealed that they were undoubtedly at the Cádiz dig. Media vehicles ringed the area.

Desperation flared through Lourds. Surely all he had to do was yell for help and people would—

“Don’t,” Murani said coldly. “Stay silent or I will kill your friend. I need that brilliant mind of yours for a little while longer. But Miss Crane’s company is merely a convenience for you, one you retain solely based on your good behavior.”

Lourds subsided. He heard Leslie take a deep breath beside him. Almost immediately one of the guardsmen slapped a hand over her mouth. She squealed behind the hand, but the sound was mostly trapped.

The truck’s engine rumbled, and they got under way again.

Natasha stood in shadows that ringed the dig site and surveyed the two trucks that pulled through the gate in the hurricane fence. The fence had gone up from the beginning in anticipation of world interest and media coverage. Ten feet tall and topped with razor wire, the fence wouldn’t be proof against an armored division, but it held out journalists, curiosity-seekers, and those that had mere larceny in their hearts. Searchlights patrolled the rocky terrain.

To the right, the Atlantic Ocean beat against an eight-foot-high retaining wall that had been constructed to keep the sea at bay during high tide. The wall wasn’t meant to be permanent, but she could see it was the best money could buy. The Roman Catholic Church hadn’t spared any expense in making certain their people were safe.

Thinking of going down into the caves still left Natasha feeling slightly sick to her stomach. Even the subway tunnels under Moscow left her feeling that way. She didn’t like the idea of being trapped underground. The possibility of being drowned while underground was even more terrifying.

She focused her binoculars on the two trucks rolling through the gate. It was 2:38 A.M. She couldn’t imagine a late-night delivery coming in, but it was possible.

“Well?” Gary whispered as he stood beside her.

Natasha didn’t make a reply. Gary was proving inept at patience.

“Is it them?” Gary persisted.

“I don’t know,” Natasha replied. “There wasn’t a list of occupants printed on the outside of the truck.”

Gary cursed. “What if you’re wrong?”

“Then Lourds was wrong. He’s the one who did the translation and felt certain the instruments were leading us here.”

“He could have been wrong, you know. Even if he was right about the translation talking about Atlantis, this might not be the Atlantis the instruments referred to.”

“I know.”

“We could have lost them.”

“I know.” Natasha kept the conversation going only because it relaxed Gary to a degree.

He cursed some more. “Maybe the Roman Catholic Church is wrong about this being Atlantis. If you’d read the materials that have been written about it, you’d know that prospective sites for Atlantis have been located all around the world.”

“Not my problem. Lourds said they were coming here.”

“If Lourds is wrong, then we’ve lost them.”

“Try not to think like that. I believe he was right.” Natasha watched as the trucks stopped in front of the throat of the cave system. The passengers in the back debarked.

“How else am I supposed to—?”

“He was right. They’re here.” Natasha focused on Lourds as he stumbled from the truck.

“I knew they would be,” Gary said. “Lourds is a really smart guy.”

“Certainly.” Despite the danger that still faced them, Natasha couldn’t help smiling. Part of it was because of Gary’s ridiculous about-face just now, part because Lourds and Leslie Crane were still among the living, but the biggest part was because vengeance for Yuliya was at hand.

She could hardly wait to dispense it.

The group walked into the cave and disappeared inside the lighted interior.

Now for the hard part.

“We’ve got other problems,” Natasha said.

“What?”

“Gallardo’s people got into the cave easily.”

“So?”

“That means they’ve already got people here who know them,” Natasha said. “They’ve already infiltrated the security here.”

“So?”

“They’re in charge, they’re well armed, and they outnumber us a hundred to one.” Natasha pointed out, as to a small child.

“That’s never stopped you before.”

Murani walked down into the caves with Sbordoni on one side of him and Gallardo on the other. It was strange thinking that if the two men had met each other separately, they wouldn’t have liked each other. Yet he was able to use them both for his own purposes.

Gallardo watched nervously as the arriving group of Swiss Guards met the teams already on-site as security. He hadn’t been aware that so much of the invasion into the cave system would be so easy.

“Were you thinking we’d shoot our way in?” Murani asked.

“Me?” Gallardo asked. “I was hoping more for the ‘slide in the back door’ strategy.” He looked tense. “There’s something else I’ve learned over the years: Just because you walk into a place doesn’t mean you can walk back out.”

“We can walk back out,” Murani said. He was confident about that. All the Swiss Guards on-site had sworn allegiance to the Society of Quirinus and believed in keeping the Church’s secrets. Those who didn’t know Murani planned to use the artifact Father Sebastian undoubtedly was on the verge of finding wouldn’t find out until it was too late.

“Just so you know,” Gallardo said, “if this thing goes south, I’m not going to hang around.”

“It won’t go south.” Murani stared at the caves and at the base camp.

Few of the workers were awake. Most of them were asleep in their tents. The few that were up only watched with mild curiosity as Murani and his people passed through. Everyone knew the Swiss Guards went armed, and there had been threats against the site. Murani was sure that the presence of guardsmen at the base camp just told interested spectators that security on-site was being increased.

“How far is the cave where Sebastian is?” Gallardo asked.

“Almost two miles.”

Gallardo looked back at the cave entrance uneasily. “That’s a long way underground.”

“Personally,” Murani said, “I was thinking it was a long way to get where I want to go. I can’t wait to get there.” He just hoped that Sebastian hadn’t found the Book before he arrived.

Under direction of one of the armed Swiss Guards, Lourds clambered aboard a trailer that had been converted to haul supplies and construction workers through the dig site. Long wooden benches provided seats.

Leslie sat beside him.

“I don’t like caves,” Leslie said.

“Some of them are quite fascinating,” Lourds said. He’d seen several of them himself while studying prehistoric drawings for any sign of rudimentary language. The idea of how mankind had lived in them for a time captivated him.

“You like the weirdest things.”

Lourds grinned at that. “I suppose I do.”

“That’s one of the things that makes you interesting.”

“I’ll take your word on that.” Lourds struggled to keep up with Leslie’s way of thinking. He didn’t know if she primarily found him charming or offensive. Right now, he was astonished to discover that what she thought mattered to him.

Instead of worrying about Leslie, he directed his attention to the base camp. It had been set up much the way a support area on a mountain climb would have been arranged. Food, medical care, and amenities were all provided. Television and video games, powered by the throbbing generators that filled the caves with a giant’s heartbeats, were even included.

The truck jerked the trailer into motion. Lourds whipped into Leslie for a moment. He gazed at the guards sitting across from him and couldn’t help thinking that if this were a James Bond film, it was here that 007 would swing into motion and overpower his captors. Then he’d save the world.

At least James Bond knew what he was saving the world from, Lourds thought sourly. He still had only a general idea of what they were going to find.

But the certain lunacy of the idea of jumping one of the guards and taking his weapon away filled him before he acted. He was silently thankful for that. He could just imagine himself shot to pieces and Murani still torturing his dying body with red-hot pliers or something to get the inscription translated.

The truck picked up speed as it descended into the bowels of the earth. Lourds discovered the dig crew had followed preexisting tunnels, but had been forced to enlarge some of them. The headlights cut through the darkness, but bulbs strung against the naked rock that framed the tunnels marked the way to their destination.

Lourds felt Leslie shivering against him. He considered putting an arm around her. Even with the handcuffs, he could manage that. But he didn’t know if she’d allow that contact. So he sat in silence as he dreaded and anticipated what he was about to find at the other end of this journey to Atlantis.

“These were the catacombs beneath the city,” Father Sebastian said as he wandered through the large stone carvings that depicted so much of the history written of in Genesis. He paused at one that was undoubtedly illustrating the birth of the universe and the parting of the darkness and light. God stood, a glowing presence, with his arms raised wide as the light from the sun surrounded him. “They probably built them as they’d built the city.”

“We haven’t found anything up top,” Brancati said.

“Mightn’t earthquakes and incoming waves account for the loss of the city above?” Sebastian ran his hand over a carving showing a huge ziggurat being built at the center of a fantastic city far in advance of anything that should have been out in the world at the time they believed Atlantis plunged into the ocean.

“Yes. I’ve seen earthquake sites that were shaken relatively clean of rubble in rural areas. That doesn’t happen so much in cities like the ones we have now. Too many utility hookups and underground systems — like this one, I suppose — exist for them to simply disappear.”

“But many thousands of years ago?”

“You’ve seen the circular walls on the surface. They argue for the possibility that this is Atlantis.”

Sebastian nodded. He pointed at the carving before him. “Biblical scholars and historians were wrong about the Tower of Babel. It wasn’t built in Babylon. It was built here in Atlantis.”

“Do you think so? I hadn’t expected that.”

Recognizing the voice but not having any idea what its owner would be doing here, Sebastian turned to face Cardinal Murani. Murani walked at the front of a small army of Swiss Guards.

“What are you doing here?” Sebastian demanded.

Murani stopped in front of the carving and studied it for a moment. Then he turned to Sebastian. “I’m here doing God’s true work. I’m going to bring knowledge of His Word and truth back into the world. I’m not going to cover it up and continue to help make Him powerless.”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Sebastian said.

“No,” Murani agreed. “I’m not. But the man who commands me is useless. The new pope is going to be just as weak as those that have gone before him. He’s insisting on burying what is found here. He is wrong. I’m not going to do that.”

Terror flooded through Sebastian as he watched the cardinal. It was obvious that something had gone terribly out of control in the man. The priest’s eyes were as crazed as his voice was certain. Sebastian glanced at Peter and Martin, the two Swiss Guards who had been acting as his personal servants.

They stepped back from him.

Brancati stepped forward. “I don’t know what the hell you people—”

A rough-looking man beside Murani slammed his rifle butt into the construction foreman’s forehead and knocked him out. Brancati hit the ground in a loose sprawl. Blood leaked from a small cut over his left eye.

The members of the construction crew surged forward to protect their supervisor, but the weapons brandished by the Swiss Guard chased them back. The warriors barked commands, and the construction workers dropped to their knees with their hands behind their heads.

Guardsmen quickly passed through them and bound the workers with disposable plastic cuffs. When they were all taken captive, some of the Swiss Guards took them into the outer cave. No one fought against them this time.

Murani smiled. He came close enough that his voice went no further than Sebastian. “You can’t stop me, old man. All you can do is struggle against me and die. If you want to die for God, go ahead. I’m willing for you to make that sacrifice. I applaud it, in fact.”

Sebastian made himself stand fast in spite of his fear. “The Book isn’t here.”

Murani glanced around. “I believe that it is.”

“It destroyed Atlantis.”

“Because the priest-kings in those days wanted to be the equal of God,” Murani said. “I only want to bring Him back into this world. I want to bring the fear of God to everyone’s attention. Including that ineffectual bungler in Vatican City. Especially to him. I have plans….”

Sebastian trembled but said nothing. He couldn’t believe this was happening. The Swiss Guard owed their allegiance to the pope, not to anyone else. Yet they followed Murani like he was the pope.

“Where’s the Book?” Murani demanded.

Sebastian shook his head. “I don’t know. If I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

A nervous tic flared to life under Murani’s right eye. “Careful. I’m not going to suffer rebellion quietly. I’ll bury you here if I need to.”

“So you’re going to add murder to your list of atrocities?”

“Too late. It’s already been added long ago,” Murani said coldly. “All I can do at this point is compound my work. And it’s not murder when I take a life pursuing God’s purposes.”

“This isn’t God’s work.”

“You don’t recognize it as God’s work,” Murani said. “I do.”

“I won’t help you.”

Murani smiled. “I don’t need your help,” he snarled. He raised his voice. “Professor Lourds.”

Lourds stumbled forward across the stone floor when one of the Swiss Guards shoved him forward. He noticed then how worn the stone was between the large carved murals. Thousands of years ago, he realized, people had spent a lot of time walking between these images.

“Come here,” Murani ordered.

Reluctantly, Lourds approached the cardinal. He’d seen the conversation between Murani and Father Sebastian, but he hadn’t been able to hear it over the throbbing generators in the next room. But he could tell from the expressions on both men’s faces that neither of them was happy with anything that had been said.

Murani gestured at the image carved in stone before him. “Do you know what this is?”

Lourds looked at the stone and thought that maybe the cardinal was trying to trick him. The image was stark. There was no mistaking what it was.

“This is Atlantis.” Lourds gestured with both hands, since they were bound together, at the ziggurat. “That’s the Tower of Babel. They were building it to ascend to Heaven and be with God.”

“Yes,” Murani said. He directed Lourds’s attention to the sections of stone that were covered with the same language that was on all the instruments. The picture, though, was different. Two men and a woman were shown in the forest with animals around them. “Can you read this?”

Lourds studied the writing for a moment. He was aware of Father Sebastian’s intense gaze on him.

“Don’t help him do this,” the old priest said softly. “You don’t know what he intends to—”

Uncoiling like a striking snake, Murani struck Sebastian in the face with the back of his hand. Sebastian cried out, staggered, and dropped to one knee. Blood streamed from his nose and split lips.

Some of the Swiss Guards started to come forward, including a young man with a scar on his face who looked particularly upset. Only the barked commands from men who were evidently their superiors held them in place. Obviously whatever agreement existed within the group meant different things to different members. The Swiss Guards weren’t all of the same mind.

Lourds didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. One thing he did know — all the Swiss Guards were armed. A rebellion amongst them could have massive casualties, and bystanders weren’t likely to be spared. He decided that setting them against each other wasn’t a sound plan right now. Maybe later, if he got desperate.

“Can you read this?” Murani asked.

Lourds examined the text. “I don’t know. I just learned how to translate this language last night.”

“What does this say?”

Glancing at the man, Lourds wondered if Murani could read the inscription.

A smile curved Murani’s thin lips. “Let me paraphrase this section for you. After God created the Heaven and the Earth, after the oceans and the skies, when He finally created man, and woman from his rib shortly thereafter, He sent down His son to walk with Adam and Eve.”

“That can’t be right,” Lourds said. During the whole recital Murani hadn’t looked at the inscription.

“It’s right,” Murani replied.

Lourds turned his attention from Murani to the story written in the stone. Even allowing for mistakes and misinterpretation, that was what the stone recorded.

“But that’s wrong,” Lourds said. “The Bible states that Jesus was born to Mary thousands of years later, and that He was God’s only Son.”

“That’s what the Church would have you believe,” Murani agreed. “That’s just one of the secrets they’ve protected all these years. God had two Sons. Two. God sent both His Sons to earth. Mankind killed them both.”

Lourds looked at Father Sebastian.

Sebastian’s silence was eloquent.

“If you can read this, why do you need me?” Lourds asked Murani.

“Because I can’t read it,” the cardinal answered. “I only know what the story deals with. I know only part of the secret. I need you to tell me the rest. God’s first Son came to earth, to the Garden of Eden, and He brought a wondrous gift: the Book of Knowledge.” Murani smiled. “It wasn’t a tree or a fruit at all. That was another thing the Church hid. It was a Book. That Book is God’s Word and it has the power to reshape our reality.” He paused. “It was that Book that destroyed Atlantis.”