Charles Brokaw - The Lucifer Code

‘You’re talking about an invasion force.’

‘No. An invasion force comes to stay or to plunder. I just want to get our people out with as few casualties as possible.’ That sounds positively noble, doesn’t it? Webster knew the president wouldn’t be able to resist the bait to out-grandstand him.

Outside, another series of explosions made the window shiver and rolled echoes through the building. Vicky wrapped her arms more tightly round herself and shivered, but she never stopped giving orders. Hamilton and Napier were also engaged on their sat-phones.

‘You know what I’m saying is right, Mike,’ Webster said gently, ‘and I know this is all scary.’ He basted his words with conviction. ‘We didn’t ask for the situation. If Prince Khalid hadn’t risen to power, we wouldn’t be here now. But he did, and he started this mess that’s currently threatening to swallow this country and has endangered our people.’

‘He has the army on his side. This engagement shouldn’t take long.’

‘That was said about Iraq. Both times.’

Behind the hotel, towards the heart of the city, more explosives ripped a naked skeleton of a building in progress to shreds. The steel girders collapsed and spilled into the street like a child’s game.

‘Look at the big picture over here,’ Webster said. ‘If we don’t step in, the Chinese will. They need the oil as badly as we do. In fact, if we don’t do something soon, they may view this as the perfect time to advance and grab a stranglehold. Once they’re in, Mike, you know they’re not going to be easy to dissuade. They have their own needs.’

The president sighed tiredly. ‘This is getting to be a bed of snakes, Elliott.’

‘It’s always been a bed of snakes. The snakes are just more prevalent at the moment.’

Vicky turned to Webster with a look of surprise. ‘There are unidentified aircraft flying into the oil fields. Do you know anything about that?’

Webster shook his head.

‘What was that?’ the president asked. ‘Something about aircraft?’

‘Do you have anyone out there?’ Webster asked Vicky.

The woman shook her head. ‘So far, Prince Khalid’s forces have managed to keep the fighting from reaching the oil fields. I didn’t think we needed anyone in the area. I’ve got a team en route that way now.’

‘Never mind,’ the president said. ‘Evidently World News Network has picked up the story.’

‘WNN already has someone there,’ Webster told Vicky.

‘I know. How do you think I’m getting my information?’

Webster pulled out his TV remote control handset and changed the channel to the WNN Channel. The ante had obviously just been increased. He wanted to see the results.

Passage of Omens

Hagia Sophia Underground

Istanbul, Turkey

24 March 2010

‘You’re refusing to admit defeat, Professor Lourds,’ Joachim said accusingly. ‘That passageway, if it was ever here, isn’t here now.’ His frustrated voice echoed along the hall.

A few of the monks continued checking the wall, as did Cleena and Olympia.

Lourds refused to be distracted. He took a bottle of water from his backpack and reviewed his mental notes regarding his translation. He’d got the directions right. This was the tunnel. He was certain of that. But where was the hidden door?

‘We need to try somewhere else,’ Joachim said.

‘No,’ Lourds said. ‘It’s here.’

‘Then where is it?’

‘Obviously, it’s hidden.’ Lourds put away the water bottle. ‘The scroll said the Passage of Omens wouldn’t be found until the time was right.’

‘Then maybe the time isn’t right?’ Olympia joined them. Perspiration gleamed on her skin.

‘That would be an easy answer for failure,’ Joachim said.

‘Don’t,’ Olympia told him. ‘We wouldn’t be this far if it weren’t for Thomas.’

‘We don’t know how far we are, do we?’ Joachim walked away to join the other monks and once more begin the assault on the wall.

‘For a monk, he doesn’t have a lot of faith, does he?’ Lourds asked.

Olympia sipped from a water bottle. ‘I can understand his frustration. Can you imagine having the kind of knowledge he’s had all these years and not being able to find the Joy Scroll?’

Lourds thought of the lost library of Alexandria and how he had spent the last twenty-something years chasing scraps of information, myths and rumours in an effort to locate whatever books might have survived that fire all those years ago.

‘Actually, I can imagine. And it is frustrating.’

Olympia looked down the passageway. ‘Is it possible that another tunnel was dug? That the one we’re actually looking for is on either side of us?’

‘We didn’t see another tunnel.’

‘That doesn’t mean there isn’t one. This area is honeycombed with tunnels. It’s worse than a rabbit’s warren.’

‘Reminds me a lot of London’s underground,’ Lourds admitted. ‘The underground beneath New York pales by comparison. At least the tunnels there are larger.’

‘That’s because they were made for subways and utility lines. These were only made for refugees.’

‘You would think it would be easier to find a hidden passageway in this restricted space.’ Fatigue ate at Lourds as he stared into the darkness.

‘There were no other clues about the location?’

Lourds shook his head. ‘The scroll said the location of the Passage of Omens wouldn’t be revealed until the time was right.’

‘And what time would that be?’

An ungracious smile pulled at Lourds’ mouth. ‘It’s amazing how oblique things like this scroll can be when it comes to the concrete details.’

‘Surely there was something.’

Lourds quoted. ‘Only a fearful and penitent man will find the doorway to the Passage of Omens. The righteous will never know the way.’’

‘That’s all it said?’

‘That’s all. Other than the directions of how to get here.’ A thought suddenly struck Lourds and he wondered why he had not realized it before. He strode forwards, back to his original location in the tunnel. ‘A fearful and penitent man. Not a righteous one.’

‘Thomas?’ Olympia trailed after him and her movement attracted the attention of everyone else in the passageway.

Lourds silently cursed himself. At the spot he had marked, he dropped to his knees and looked at the floor. Carefully, he used his free hand to brush away the accumulated debris that had gathered for hundreds of years. Gradually, the stones became clear. Without a word, Olympia and Joachim joined him in his endeavour. The cleared space grew larger and larger.

Joachim paused. ‘I’ve found something.’ He shone his light on one of the stones. ‘There’s writing here. I can’t read it.’

Lourds walked over and squatted down beside him. The writing was there, but it was almost illegible, almost worn away by the passage of feet and time. He took his water bottle from his backpack, unscrewed the cap and poured some water onto the engraved stone washing the inscription and making it easier to read, but the shadows were deceptive even after Lourds dried the area with a shirt sleeve.

Taking his journal from his backpack, Lourds laid a page over the inscription and made a rubbing. The result was even clearer. He held up the page and Joachim trained his flashlight on it.

‘You can read this?’ Joachim asked.

‘I can,’ Lourds replied. ‘It’s the same language that was in the scroll.’ He worked the translation in his head, then said it out loud. ‘Look to God for the answers that you seek.’

Joachim trained his beam on the ceiling. Spider webs obscured the roof over the passageway.

Lourds put his journal away and stood. He took his shirt off, stripping down to his undershirt, then he waved the shirt overhead and knocked the cobwebs away. On one of the stones overhead, Lourds barely made out the inscription, but he knew what it was.