The Crimson Dagger - Vatican Knights Series 23 (2020) by Rick Jones (romantic novels to read txt) 📕

as he was about to train his assault rifle of the ISIS operative, a bullet had punched through his forehead to create a peach-sized exit wound. He had been shot from behind, the round a heavy caliber. As the one-time commando wavered briefly in his stance, he then fell forward against the floor, hitting hard.

And as soon as the shadows congregated to aid the other back to his feet, the interior alarm system to the Treasury began to keen and wail like a banshee.

* * *

SYSTEM ALERT

SYSTEM ALERT

SYSTEM ALERT

The warning had flashed on Khalifa’s screen. The mission had been clearly compromised, which was obviously stated when the alarm started to sound off in ear-splitting protest.

Khalifa tried to administer his ability to hack and log in to the system but failed repeatedly, always receiving the message of ACCESS DENIED.

After tapping his earbud, he said, “Abd-al-Mumin?”

“Go.”

“A secondary system has been enabled, most likely a failsafe protocol. I’m unable to disable it.”

“Do what you can, Khalifa. We’re close to obtaining the relic.”

“Understood. But you also need to understand that the authorities are most likely on their way. Your time to retrieve the Holy Lance has been significantly shortened, I’m afraid.”

“Buy us time.”

“Understood . . . Allahu Akbar.”

“Allahu Akbar.”

Khalifa removed his earbud, placed it on the console, then stepped away. Allah had made His decision, he considered. And Paradise awaited. Grabbing the rucksack, Khalifa rummaged through it and counted six claymores, all which needed to be set around the guard shed. He would create the first and only line of defense to buy Abd-al-Mumin time.

Removing the devices from the rucksack, Khalifa, while asking for Allah’s embrace, began to set the claymores accordingly.

* * *

Abd-al-Mumin was actively nibbling on his lower lip, something he did when fighting for calm. The mission that was so carefully planned had gone south, the alarms no doubt an invite for law enforcement.

Abd-al-Mumin called into his lip mic. “Ghazi?”

“Go.”

“What happened?”

“There was a back-up switch—nothing I could do to stop it.” And then: “I’m sorry, Abd-al-Mumin. I failed you and Allah.”

“We’ll talk about your failures later. Right now, I need you topside. Khalifa’s about to have company and we need to be prepared for what’s coming.”

“Copy that.”

“Move!”

As the alarms kept wailing, Abd-al-Mumin tapped his earbud with a mixture of frustration and anger. They had maneuvered to the precise locations with little contest, only to botch the assignment when the Spear of Destiny was literally within arm’s length away.

Turning his attention to the display, Abd-al-Mumin noted the jeweled cross that was more of the focal piece within the display case rather than the Holy Lance. Motioning to his team to galvanize themselves, they reacted with precision. Tipping the case over with a resounding crash that did little to top the sound of the alarms, the glass shattered in tempered pieces that spread across the floor like diamonds.

The jeweled cross slid across the floor as did the Holy Lance. Under the flash of flickering lights, the gold that surrounded the Spear of Destiny reflected and throbbed in concert with the ebb and flow of the constantly flashing lights, as though the artifact had a heartbeat and was alive.

Abd-al-Mumin didn’t waste any time, as he grabbed the relic. What he immediately discovered to be odd, however, was that there was nothing special or magical about its touch. There was no static electricity or warm discharge that engulfed him wholly, as expected. Nor was there a sense of sudden power that was neither absolute nor indomitable. In fact, it felt no more than an ice-cold token or bauble.

Holding the relic high as though to show Allah that he had been gifted with the Holy Lance, he then placed the article within his rucksack. Once secured and with their weapons held at eye level, they began their escape.

* * *

Khalifa was manning the guard shack when he saw a convoy of flashing flights bearing down on the Treasury from both sides of the Michealerplatz, he grabbed his firearm, a peashooter in comparison to what he was about to come up against, and stood before the guard shack tucking the Glock within his waistband behind the small of his back.

The Arab stood with his legs parted in a Weaver stance, readying himself. As he mouthed the words to a prayer while the vehicles approached, Khalifa felt in his heart that Allah would welcome him fully. He would be martyred. And with this honor his family would be paid for their loss. But they would also live with the cherished memory that their son or brother or cousin had died for a cause, and that he would be anointed in Paradise.

The vehicles approached, their sirens adding to the keen of the Treasury’s alarm system, a high-pitched wailing. As they approached, the words to Khalifa’s prayers blossomed into shouts with the devotions now cries of praise to the one true God, as he slowly extended his hands in mock crucifixion while turning his head heavenward.

The sirens.

The alarms.

The screaming words of prayer all adding to the bedlam and to the chaos.

As the vehicles approached and neared the guard shack, Khalifa started to reach for his weapon, though his eyes remained skyward at the canopy of stars. Just as he wrapped his hand around the stock of his weapon, a police cruiser tripped a wire of a claymore by driving through the perimeter line Khalifa had set up. The broken line set off the charge, the landmine exploding. Then the other mines went off in succession, one right after the other like dominoes. Shrapnel zipped across the open space with a rate of high-caliber rounds, at more than 2,200 feet per second. Holes were punched into the sedans and struck vehicles with multiple rounds that killed all inhabitants within upon impact. Other cars erupted into fireballs when their gas tanks ruptured, the vehicles upending and going skyward, only to perform graceful pirouettes before landing hard against the pavement. One patrol unit, however, went unscathed.

Khalifa started to walk with purpose towards this