The Revelation Code (Wilde/Chase 11)

  Rosetti pushed down the row, drawing his sidearm as he shouted a warning in Italian—

  The statue was not the only thing Anna had taken from the bag.

  Her arm whipped up – and Rosetti staggered, a slim black throwing knife jutting from his throat. He fell heavily on to an elderly man beside Anna. The other people nearby were momentarily stunned, then the screams started.

  Nina was already forcing her way along the row. ‘Down, stay down!’ she shouted, pushing a panicked nun back into her seat before she could block her path.

  Anna had the statue in one hand, the other tugging the carbon-fibre blade from Rosetti’s neck. ‘Back, bitch!’ she yelled, stabbing it at the redhead.

  Nina jerked away from the bloodied tip, then overcame her fear and lunged for Anna’s arm. The blade caught her palm, making her gasp, but she managed to grab the cultist’s wrist. ‘That’s Doctor Bitch to you!’ she yelled, twisting the knife away—

  Her heart froze as she saw Anna’s other arm draw back . . . and hurl the statue.

  It flew over the front rows of the crowd. Time seemed to slow, the angel falling towards the base of the steps . . .

  It hit the ground – and shattered. Nina stared at it, paralysed with terror—

  The broken pieces came to rest. She drew in a startled breath. There was no gas, no eruption of yellow poison. Anna was equally stunned, mouth open in disbelief. ‘But . . . it can’t . . .’

  ‘It can,’ Nina replied, realising what had happened. It was not the real angel. Cross had given Anna the fake Eddie had used to locate the Mission – and it was clear that the biochemist knew nothing about the deception. ‘He lied to you. Your Prophet lied to you!’

  ‘No!’ Anna jerked her arm free and slashed the blade at Nina’s face. The redhead jumped backwards to avoid it, only to stumble against a chair. A burst of pain from her injured leg, and she fell.

  Anna shoved past Rosetti and stood over Nina as others in the crowd fled. But she didn’t stab her, instead holding the knife to her throat. ‘Back off!’ she cried as a uniformed cop pointed a gun. ‘Back off or I’ll kill her!’

  The cop retreated, but kept his weapon raised. Shouts in Italian reached Nina as more officers closed in. ‘You’ve failed,’ she said breathlessly. ‘You and your husband. Neither angel has been released. We recovered the one in Mecca.’

  Anna stared at her, anger and panic in her eyes. ‘What happened to Sim— the other Witness?’

  Nina hesitated, feeling the blade against her skin. But she knew she had to tell her. ‘He’s dead.’

  The other woman did not react for a moment, as if she hadn’t heard, then anguish joined the other emotions. ‘Dead?’ she repeated, voice cracking. ‘He can’t . . . No, he—’ She broke off, her anger resurgent. ‘Killed by the minions of the Beast . . . so now the prophecy can be fulfilled!’

  She pulled back the knife, about to stab it into Nina’s neck – only to hesitate after a glance at the redhead’s abdomen. Then she leapt on to the now-empty seats, letting out a demented scream as she charged at the nearest cop.

  He fired. The bullet hit her chest. More screams came from the crowd as she crashed to the ground.

  The cop ran to her, kicking away the knife. Other armed men hurried to join him. ‘Wait, get back from her, get back!’ Nina called, staggering to her feet. A brief glance told her that the Pope was being rushed into the safety of the basilica. ‘Anna,’ she said, crouching beside the dying woman, ‘Cross lied to you – he used you. He always had three targets, because he thought he’d have three angels, but he had to change his plan when he destroyed one angel at the Mission, didn’t he? He gave you a fake and kept one for himself, so he could attack the biggest target personally. He sent you to die as a decoy! Where is he? Where’s the real angel?’

  Anna turned her head weakly, coughing blood. Red speckled the white cloth of her habit. Despite her pain, she was almost smiling. ‘No, doesn’t matter, he’s . . . succeeded. When the Witnesses . . . die, the second woe is past, and then the seventh angel sounds!’

  ‘No it doesn’t!’ Nina protested. ‘The seventh angel doesn’t sound until after the Witnesses are resurrected and taken to heaven in a cloud – and that’s not going to happen because this is the real world! Cross himself thinks John was hallucinating when he wrote Revelation: there is no prophecy, it’s all nonsense. You and Simeon have died for nothing!’

  ‘If it’s . . . nonsense, then how did you find . . . the angels?’ The smile twisted into mocking disdain.

  A policeman clambered over the seats to check on Rosetti, surprise and concern in his voice telling Nina he was still alive. But she had no time to be relieved – or to argue theology. ‘Where’s the last angel?’ she demanded, leaning closer. ‘What’s Cross going to do with it?’

  ‘Loose it,’ Anna gasped. ‘Of course . . . the Prophet will release the angel . . .’ An expression almost of joy crossed her face. ‘And bring down . . . Babylon. The kings of the world . . . will witness . . .’

  ‘What do you mean?’ said Nina. ‘Tell me!’

  But the other woman’s eyes grew unfocused. One last sigh of escaping breath, then she fell still and silent. ‘God damn it,’ Nina whispered.

  The cops closed in around her. ‘É morta?’ asked one.

  ‘Yeah, she’s dead,’ Nina replied. ‘And so are our chances of finding the real angel.’

  36

  ‘So Cross gave Anna the copy and took off with the real angel?’ said the disbelieving Dalton over the conference call. ‘Where’s he taken it?’

  ‘That’s kinda what I was hoping you could tell us,’ Nina said, exasperated. While paramedics tended to Rosetti, she had been taken to an office inside the Vatican to give the bad news to Seretse in New York and Eddie in Mecca, calling upon Dalton – now in transit to America in the company of a trio of US marshals – in the hope of learning the cult leader’s true plans.

  ‘I have no idea,’ the disgraced politician replied.

  Her frustration grew. ‘Are you saying that because you don’t want to incriminate yourself in front of law enforcement officials, or do you genuinely not know?’

  ‘I genuinely don’t know!’ Dalton snapped. ‘Until that son of a bitch dumped me in the desert, I’d planned to go back to Tel Aviv and meet some Israeli friends. I don’t know where he meant to go!’

  ‘Wait, you have friends?’ Eddie said sarcastically.

  ‘Not helping,’ said his wife.

  ‘I’ve still got plenty of friends in Washington,’ Dalton growled. ‘I can assure you that I’ll be back in—’

  ‘Just one moment, Mr President,’ interrupted Seretse, breaking off to speak to someone. When he returned, despondency was clear even in the diplomat’s normally controlled voice. ‘I have had a message from the State Department.’

  ‘Doesn’t sound like the one you were hoping for,’ noted Eddie.

  ‘I am afraid not. They were able to reach out to the intelligence services and provide the flight plan of the jet Cross had been using, but after leaving Ovda airbase yesterday, it flew to Jordan – and is still there. Anna and Simeon travelled on to their targets by commercial flights under false passports. It would appear that Cross also left the country under an assumed identity, but so far we have not been able to track him.’

  Nina put her head in her hands. ‘So he could be literally anywhere in the world by now? Great.’

  ‘How are we going to find him?’ asked Seretse. ‘What is his target?’

  ‘Babylon,’ she told him. ‘That’s what Anna said: Babylon will fall. All part of Revelation, but somehow I doubt that Cross plans to attack the ruins of an ancient city in Iraq.’

  ‘Maybe he really hates sci-fi and he’s going after the bloke who created Babylon 5,’ Eddie suggested.

  ‘Eddie! This is serious.’

  ‘What, a terrorist attack that could kill thousands of people? No!’

  ‘I don’t know what’s more terrifying,’ said Dalton. ‘That prospec
t, or the fact that you two are the best hope to stop it.’

  ‘At least we’re trying,’ snarled Nina. ‘Rather than coming up with the idea in the first place, only to have it all blow up in your face!’

  ‘I did not come up with—’

  ‘Oh, shut up, Mr President. Stop trying to cover your ass and help us! You know Cross, you know what motivates him and what he was trying to achieve. What’s his endgame? His target could be anywhere in the world – but where?’

  There was no immediate reply. Eddie was the first to break the downcast silence. ‘So he’s not going to attack the original Babylon. What else could it be?’

  ‘One theory about Revelation was that Babylon was code for Rome,’ said Nina.

  ‘Rome was not the target today, though,’ said Seretse. ‘Not the real target.’

  ‘I know. But Babylon was the centre of an ancient empire, Rome was the same in John’s time, so now . . . Washington DC?’ she suggested.

  ‘I wouldn’t think so,’ Dalton replied. ‘Cross was many things, but he was definitely a patriot. His long-term goal was to bring about the creation of a unified Christian America—’

  ‘You mean your goal,’ Eddie cut in.

  Dalton ignored him. ‘But that was by using the attacks on Rome and Mecca to build up threats from outside the country, not to attack the country itself and kill US citizens.’

  ‘Maybe that’s not his plan any more,’ said Nina. ‘Maybe it never was. Learning God’s secrets was always his ultimate goal. If people die, even Americans, it doesn’t matter because the end of the world is imminent – they’ll soon be judged by God no matter what.’

  ‘So there still is a possibility that he may attack Washington?’ asked Seretse.

  ‘Anything’s a possibility with that maniac,’ replied Dalton. ‘But right now, the balance of power in DC is with people who would tend to side with him. Wiping out Congress wouldn’t get him what he wants.’

  ‘It’d get a big cheer from everyone else in the country, though,’ said Eddie. Nina could tell he was grinning without needing to see him.

  ‘You’ll forgive me if I don’t find jokes about killing political leaders amusing,’ Dalton snapped.

  Nina sat up as his words prompted a thought. ‘Anna said something else before she died,’ she said. ‘It wasn’t just that Babylon would fall. It was also that the kings of the world – the leaders – would witness it. But there’s only one world leader in DC . . .’

  She jerked bolt upright as another possibility came to her. From the startled gasp over the speaker, the same thought had struck Seretse. ‘The General Assembly!’ the diplomat cried. ‘The world’s leaders are coming here, to New York.’

  ‘The UN is a tower where all the world’s languages are spoken – just like the description of Babel in Genesis,’ said Nina. ‘Your Fortress America, Dalton – you said it wouldn’t be subject to United Nations treaties. And Cross hates the UN even more than you do – he wants it removed from American soil. Gassing the place in the middle of a General Assembly would be one way to do that. And taking out most of the world’s leaders would stand a pretty good chance of bringing about the apocalypse!’

  ‘But he’ll still be an angel short,’ Eddie noted. ‘The one he meant for Mecca’s still in one piece.’

  ‘He doesn’t care. He already justified scrambling and skipping over the parts of Revelation that didn’t fit his timeline as a result of John the Apostle’s hallucinations, and I think he’s jumping right to its end on the principle that if he brings about the fall of Babylon, everything else will come to pass as well – and then he’ll learn all God’s secrets. Oswald, is there anything you can do to increase security?’

  ‘I am not sure if anything more can be done,’ Seretse told her. ‘I can warn the Secret Service and the police about Cross, but the streets around the United Nations complex are already cordoned off. The first of the world leaders have begun to arrive.’

  ‘What time does the Assembly actually start?’ Nina asked.

  ‘Most of the delegates will be arriving over the course of the morning – President Cole is expected at one thirty. The session opens at three p.m.’

  ‘That’ll be when Cross is most likely to do it,’ Eddie said. ‘When they’re all in the same place at the same time.’

  Nina checked her watch, adding in the time difference between Rome and New York. ‘That’s only just over eight hours from now! It’s not even enough time to get us back to the States.’

  ‘You want to come back here?’ Seretse asked.

  ‘Absolutely I do! Eddie and I stopped the attacks in Mecca and Rome – well, okay, Eddie stopped one of the attacks, and the other one was a decoy,’ she admitted. ‘But we still might be able to help. At the very least, we’ve both seen Cross before. We spotted his Witnesses; we might be able to find him as well.’

  ‘But it’s all academic, isn’t it?’ said Dalton in a biting tone. ‘Italy to New York is at least a nine-hour flight. Even if you chartered a business jet, there’s no way you could make it before the session starts.’

  ‘There’s one way,’ Eddie cut in. ‘Be hard to arrange, but you might actually be able to help with that, Mr President. If you really do still have friends in Washington.’

  The politician was surprised, both at the suggestion, and at the Englishman’s sudden politeness, or at least lack of open hostility. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Yeah, what do you mean, Eddie?’ said Nina, curious.

  ‘I mean, Mr President, that if you still had enough pull with the CIA to get rides on their black flights, then maybe you’ve also still got some pull with your old mates at the Pentagon – like you did when you got us access to Silent Peak.’

  Dalton had once arranged security clearance for the couple to enter a top-secret government archive. But it had come with a price. ‘Uh, that didn’t work out too well,’ Nina reminded him. ‘For any of us.’

  ‘He’s not going to betray us this time, though, is he?’ said Eddie. ‘Not since he wants to keep his arse out of jail, and out of the hands of his cellmate Bubba Manlove.’

  ‘I promised I would do everything in my power to find Cross and stop whatever he’s planning,’ Dalton said stiffly. ‘What is it you want, Chase?’

  ‘A lift.’

  ‘A lift?’ said Nina, wondering what he meant.

  She saw the answer for herself an hour later.

  ‘Have you ever been in a fighter jet before, ma’am?’ asked United States Air Force captain Tyler Fox as he escorted her across the concrete apron of Rome’s Ciampino airport.

  ‘Can’t say that I have,’ she replied with trepidation. Standing before her was a slate-grey aircraft, an F-15E Strike Eagle: her transport back to America. Whatever contacts Dalton had, they had come through in spectacular fashion.

  ‘I’ll go easy on you, then. Especially as you’re pregnant. I’ve never had a baby on board my aircraft before! It sure isn’t standard operating procedure, but I understand it’s real important you get to New York asap.’

  ‘Yeah, it is.’ She looked down at her olive-drab flight suit and the helmet in one hand. ‘I feel like I should call myself Maverick or something.’

  ‘Top Gun is navy, ma’am,’ said Fox, with a hint of disdain. ‘The air force shows ’em how it’s done.’

  She smiled. ‘What is it with you military guys? The air force can’t stand the navy, and my husband’s ex-army special forces with very strong views on flyboys. Or “crabs”, as he calls them.’

  Fox grinned back. ‘Friendly competition, ma’am. Well, usually friendly. But we all pull together when it comes to the crunch.’ They reached the idling aircraft, where two uniformed ground crew were waiting. ‘You were lucky to get me, I gotta say. We’re normally stationed in England, but we’ve been doing NATO exercises over Turkey and the Black Sea these past few days. I was kinda surprised to get called for taxi duty, but hey, if you need to get back home in a hurry, there ain’t a faster way than riding in an Eagle.’ br />
  The ground crew positioned ladders so Fox and Nina could climb into the cockpit. Her pilot took the front seat; she went to the weapon officer’s position behind him, waiting nervously as her harness and oxygen system were secured. ‘You had the safety briefing, right, ma’am?’ Fox called over his shoulder.

  ‘Yeah, the Cliffs Notes version.’

  ‘These things are very reliable, and tough – one of ’em once landed with an entire wing shot off! If anything does happen, just do what I tell you and you’ll be fine. But I doubt there’ll be any trouble.’

  The ground crew finished strapping her in, then descended and removed the ladders. Fox closed the canopy, running through a truncated series of pre-flight checks and communicating with air traffic control before addressing her again, this time through her helmet’s earphones. ‘Okay, we have take-off clearance. We’ll be refuelling three times over the Atlantic, but since we’ll be going supersonic as much as possible, the total journey time should be under four hours.’

  ‘How fast will we be going?’ she asked.

  ‘Top speed of an F-15E is classified, I’m afraid,’ he said, humour in his voice, ‘so please try not to look at the air speed indicator during flight. But I can tell you we’ll be reaching speeds in excess of Mach 2. Well in excess.’ Another exchange with the control tower. ‘All right, here we go.’

  The whine of the idling twin engines rose in pitch, and the Eagle started to move, bumping along the taxiway. Nina flexed her hands nervously, trying – and failing – to relax. The impending take-off was not her only worry. Four hours was less than half as long as a commercial flight would take, but it was still cutting things fine. By the time she arrived in New York, there would be under three hours before the General Assembly’s first session began, and it was entirely possible that Cross planned to attack before then.

  The main runway swung into view ahead. ‘Okay, Dr Wilde,’ said Fox, ‘we’re good to go. You might want to brace yourself.’