Pandora's Ark (28 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

The Alborz Mountain Range, Ten Hours Later

It
was night. And the air surrounding Mount Damavand was glacially cold.

Kimball Hayden stood at the edge of the precipice that
overlooked the valley that separated his team of twelve from the ridgeline of the
facility, a distance of two clicks of open air space between them.

He immediately assembled his team and briefed them on their
journey through Turkey. Then from there they took a Chinook to the neighboring
mount where they disembarked at its base and hiked to their current position.

The Chinook remained at the debarkation point, the pilot waiting
on Kimball’s order once the Quds were neutralized and the Ark firmly under his
jurisdiction. Once the Semtex was mounted against the fuel cells, the chopper would
then be dispatched to the extraction point where the Ark would then be loaded
and the charges set off in calibration. The fuel cells going off like dominoes
from left to right, the chopper lifting and veering north toward Turkey as the
facility imploded into a ruin of gravel and dust and smoke. At least that was
the plan.

Kimball stood at the edge looking through an NVG monocular
and calculated the downward distance of a thirty-percent grade until they
reached their landing position by the fuel cells, which were located above the
machine gun nests.

Through the lens of the monocular Kimball could clearly see
the MG nests, two Quds to a nest. And then he calibrated the lens to zoom in on
the terrain. He noted the fuel cells, the helipad, the lot for the trucks,
scanning and sighting two Quds soldiers standing by the fuel cells conversing,
the men rubbing their gloved hands together to stay warm. The problem was that they
stood at the breach point, posing as a possible threat to compromise their
approach. So he had little choice but to take them out during the fly run by
gauging his targets through his gun sights and firing off quick taps to their
heads. Not an easy task but doable. 

He lowered the monocular and tucked it away in a side
pocket of his glide suit. “Two clicks,” he said to Leviticus, “at thirty
degrees on a downward slope. The breach points are north and south of the fuel
cells, above the MG nests. Team A will head for the nest above the facility’s
entrance and neutralize that post. Team B will work their way to the second
nest located at the lower base and defuse the unit there. There are two guards
posted by the fuel cells. I’ll approach them on the fly run and take them out
systematically with kill shots. Should I miss during my run, then I’ll need you
to follow up with their neutralization. So stay close.”

“Understood.”

Kimball pulled back from the edge and headed for his team. They
stood as silhouettes against the brilliantly lit feature of the gibbous moon,
waiting, a band of brothers who were at peace knowing that not all of them
would return home alive on this night.

Kimball informed them of their mission, the locales of the
MG nests, and the importance of a quick strike and an even quicker exit.

Once the team was apprised of their duties, once every man
knew his place in the scheme of personal commitment, they geared for action.

Each man took his position along the edge of the rim, the sudden drop before
them straight down and seemingly endless in the dark. They were wearing special
jumpsuits called wingsuits, a garment
which
added surface area to the body in order to enable a significant increase in
 
lift
by adding
fabric between the legs
and under the arms like the expansive wings of a flying squirrel, the ensuing
flight a horizontal one from points A to B, the shortest distance being a
straight line.
At flight’s end a parachute will deploy at a planned altitude
and unzips the arm wings so that the person flying can reach up to the control
toggles and fly to a normal parachute landing.

Kimball
stood overlooking the ledge, then dropped his NVG goggles for his flight over
the valley, the world suddenly becoming phosphorous green. He’d be gliding at
more than sixty-miles-per hour, only to pull up during his deployment and drop
silently into the compound. He would then take measure, and summarily dispatch
the guards with calculated aim.

He
checked his suppressor-fitted Heckler and Koch MP-5, which was attached to a
belt festooning across his chest, and then charged his firearm, a Glock Smith
& Wesson. After making an initial check that his combat fighting blades
were securely fastened to his shin guards, he took a leap of faith and jumped
from the ledge, spreading his arms and legs, his flight taking him toward the
compound of the facility in a horizontal plane.

Leviticus
soon followed. And then one by one the Vatican Knights jumped, each man leaping
into open space until the wings of their suits caught a level plane of flight, and
glided closer to battle at speeds nearing seventy-miles-per hour.

In
less than two minutes Kimball had to peel back to slow his speed, the fabric
fanning out and acting as aeronautical brakes, and deployed his chute. His descent
was slow and quiet. And in the sights of his MP-5 he took careful and focused aim,
the Quds totally unaware of his advancement, and pulled the trigger in quick
succession.

Tap!
. . . Tap
!

The
Quds went limp, their bodies falling boneless to the ground, apparently dead
before their brains even registered the end of their lives.

Kimball
landed evenly on the terrain, followed by Leviticus.

“Nice
shooting,” Leviticus said as he pulled his chute closed before disengaging it.

But
Kimball didn’t comment. The man was focused, intent, and in warrior mode. With
Leviticus by his side they got down on a bended knee with their weapons held
close, and watched the rest of the Vatican Knights drift lazily from the sky.

#

They hit the
MG nest situated above the facility door first.

The
team moved in quiet and catlike. The Quds soldier manning the Browning with his
arms draped casually over the weapon while the other sat on top of the
sandbags, speaking in Farsi in what seemed to be banter, the other man laughing
as if he had just heard something humorous. Their complacency was their
downfall; both men taken down and rendered unconscious, their wrists bound with
flex cuffs.

The
second team at the second MG nest was not as lucky. The Quds team was alert and
responsive with their eyes cast forward with the point of the Browning poised
to kill. Since the Knights had little opportunity to approach their position,
they had no choice but to extinguish them with well-placed shots to neutralize
the situation.

Within
three minutes both nests were cleared and the landing secured. All that
remained was to breach the facility and acquire the Ark. And they had to do it
while fending off an elite force.

Kimball
stood by the massive vault door leading into the facility and placed the flat
of his palm against the cold steel.

His
pulse began to race.

The
firefight was about to begin.

#

Negev
Desert
on the Western Outskirts of Beersheba, Hatzerim Israeli Air
Force Base

At 1930 hours an
order was mandated by the Prime Minister to initiate a sortie against an
unchartered facility located in the Alborz Mountain region, most notably Mount Damavand. The precise coordinates were given and an aerial raid was to commence and
end with the complete and total destruction of the facility.

No
reason was given for the strike. And no questions were asked.

A
dozen F-16I Israeli fighter jets were loaded with heavy payloads, the pilots instructed
to terminate the target with such precision that it would take years for the
dust to settle.

Lining
up on the tarmac the planes took off in timed succession, approximately thirty
seconds apart until all the jets were airborne and heading toward Mount Damavand.

In
the Prime Minister’s office, as Netanyahu watched his monitor and saw the
planes take off, he could sense the heaviness of an oncoming war settling over him
like a pall.

#

Turkey/Iranian
Border, Vatican Base Command

The SIV, in
collusion with the Turkish government, had set up a post on the Turkey side of the border less than five miles from the Iranian boundary line.

Father
Essex was manning the Comm Center, a makeshift camp erected with canvas tents
and expensive electronic equipment. The flaps blew wildly with the course of a
brutal wind, the heat lamps doing little to abate the chill from his bones, as
he monitored feeds coming from the SIV Center at the Vatican, which was helmed
by Father Auciello.

Other
SIV officials milled about, monitoring radar display screens and intercepted
radio chat from the Ukraine to Iran to Israel to the United States, compiling
detailed information as world events pressed on. One event in particular
emerged from Israel. Apparently the powers that be had ordered an illegal
incursion into Iran with the objective to take out a target located at the base
of Mount Damavand.

Father
Essex knew exactly what Israel’s intent was. Nor did he hesitate to act. He
inquired another SIV operative as to the current location of the strike team in
flight. The news was not good. When the coordinates were finally given, Father
Essex put on his headgear, typed in a command to initiate communication, and
spoke into his lip mike. “Romeo-One, this is Base Command. Do you copy?”

#

The pilot of
the Chinook sat
idle in the valley below, waiting, until he received word from Father Essex at the
Vatican Base Command which was posted at the Turkey/Iranian border.

“
Romeo-One,
this is Base Command. Do you copy
?”

The pilot spoke
into his lip mike. “This is Romeo-One. Go ahead.”

“
Romeo-One,
you need to contact Team Leader Bravo and inform him that IDF has launched their
eagles and are heading toward the precision point with an ETA of thirty minutes. Do you copy
?”

The
pilot looked at his synchronized watch.
Thirty minutes
? There wasn’t
enough time for Kimball to pull off the mission, he considered. Not nearly
enough.

“Base
Command, do you want me to abort the mission and pull the team?”

“
That’s
negative, Romeo-One. You need to contact Team Leader Bravo and apprise him of
the situation
.”

“Copy
that, Base Command. . . Out.”

The
pilot shook his head. Those men, he knew, if they didn’t get out now, were as
good as dead.

He
tapped a button on his headgear. “Romeo-One to Team Leader Bravo. Come in, Team
Leader Bravo . . .”

#

Kimball stood
back
from the vault when his ear bud went off. “
Romeo-One to Team Leader
Bravo. Come in, Team Leader Bravo
. . .”

“This is Team
Leader Bravo. Go ahead.”

“
I just got
word from Base Command that IDF has launched eagles and are bearing down with
an ETA of thirty
.”

Thirty minutes
?

“Copy that,
Romeo-One.”

“
You want me to
start evacuation process
?”

“Negative. Stand
by and wait for my command.”

“
Copy that
.”

Kimball
appeared worried—something Leviticus never thought he’d see on the Vatican Knight’s face. So he had to ask. “What’s the matter?”

Kimball
turned to him. “It appears that Israel is committing to a preemptive strike
quicker than we planned.”

“You’re
telling me that they’re in flight?”

“That’s
exactly what I’m telling you.”

“How
long?”

“Thirty
minutes.”

“That’s
cutting it close, Kimball.”

“I
agree.” Kimball then walked toward Ezra—whose exclusive skill and purpose was
setting explosive charges for maximum effect—with urgency to his gait. “Ezra,
we need to get inside ASAP.”

Ezra
sized up the door. “I can place explosives against the wall, which is
approximately three-feet thick, the same as the door. It’ll take three, maybe
four discharges before we breach the facility.”

“How
long to set them off?”

“Ten
minutes.”

“You
have five. Get us in there.”

“Yes,
sir.”

Kimball
fell back to access the situation only to be met by Leviticus, who grabbed him by
the crook of the elbow and pulled him into close counsel. “We’re cutting it
close, Kimball. I say we cut our losses and blow the facility before their jets
rain down on us. At least we can keep Israel from committing themselves to a
situation with serious ramifications.”

“We
have thirty minutes,” he told him. “We can be well on our way to Turkey in twenty.”

Leviticus
released him. “You do realize that the Quds aren’t exactly going to let us walk
right in and take the Ark, right? You know that, don’t you?”

“Leviticus,
this is what we’re all about. Is it not? Is this not why we are Vatican Knights?”

Leviticus
stood motionless, considering, and then he nodded. “Twenty minutes,” he said.

“That’s
all I ask. If we’re not in possession of the Ark by then, then we’ll bug out
and destroy the facility.”

“Agreed.”

Both
men turned toward Ezra who placed a packet of Semtex to the right of the door
and against the stone wall. It was Ezra’s thought that blowing through concrete
was the more expedient way than trying to breach the steel of the vault door.