THe Sentinal Satellite Read online

  Something inside Gleb snapped. He was on a path that would make him the emperor of Russia and liked it. He insanely yelled at the Captain,

  “I’m a damn Tsar you idiot. Do as I tell you or be flayed you useless mongrel.”

  The Captain stormed off in a huff and Gleb stretched out on the sun deck, soaking up the title, ‘Tsar’. It had a nice ring to it and the little Russkiy barked his approval.

  Chapter 33

  Because the content of the letter was revealed to only a select few, there was no panic or disturbance in the daily routine of the Vatican. This afternoon, as usual, thousands of tourists infiltrated the Vatican grounds. In awe they wandered about in Saint Peter’s Square circling the mysterious Egyptian obelisk of Caligula and wondered why it was there. Hundreds waited in forever lineups to enter the Sistine Chapel as well as slowly making their way through numerous museums. It all ended at four o’clock, closing time for most attractions. People in droves then flowed toward the exit and their waiting tour buses.

  In a secluded room near the Sistine Chapel, twelve men silently exchanged their robes for the disguise of common tourists. Shoes that did not fit were reluctantly crammed into. Pants too big were tightened extra hard by belts struggling to hold them up. As it was only a temporary measure, it did not matter if the fit was perfect. None of the twelve complained too much. After all, what they were doing would be for the benefit of their lives and the faith.

  As hordes of tourists flowed out of the Vatican and into Via Della Conciliazione, the main street leading out of the Vatican, the twelve men clandestinely merged into the crowd. Now, like hundreds of others, they were leaving the Vatican. Although most tourists were sad to be leaving the Holy Ground, these twelve were overcome with nerves and fear. On occasion, some of the escapees raised fearful eyes to the lone cloud high above. When life is in danger, it becomes difficult to look casual.

  Meanwhile, Duchess Josephine de Meyer-David, with the promise of riches, had enticed three Spanish women to her secret island. They would cook and tend to her needs. Niko got none of that benefit. He must look after himself. She was currently talking to them, giving specific instructions on her personal demands when Niko, sitting at his computer, rudely interrupted.

  “Duchess, you might want to see this.”

  Thinking what she was doing to be important, she snapped across the room to him,

  “Can’t you see I’m busy right now?”

  Niko dared to defy her anger, adding,

  “It’s important.”

  Reluctantly conceding, she stormed across the floor to look at the screen. From an overhead camera inside the Sentinel Satellite she saw a mass of tourists flooding out of the Vatican. After scrutinizing, she demanded,

  “What am I looking at?”

  He explained,

  “With the powerful computer inside the satellite, I can face-identify one hundred people per second from our data base of Cardinals and Vatican VIPs. You asked me to make sure no highly ranked Vatican people tried to sneak out so I monitored all their security cameras as well as the camera in the cloud to identify escapees. Watch this.”

  When Niko turned on the face-recognition program twelve little squares framed around the heads of twelve tourists in the exiting crowd.

  The Duchess suddenly became interested and snapped,

  “Isolate and identify them from the data base.”

  I already have. That’s why I called you.”

  At the touch of a few keys, twelve photos and names along with personal information appeared. After studying them, there was a witch’s cackle in her voice.

  “So, Bishop Francisco Esposito seeks to escape my little trap does he? My, my, will you look at the other names and their high ranks. Clearly, despite a religion promising a reward after death, they fear it. Evidently they would rather live on Earth without a faith than die and go heaven to meet their Maker. I suppose that shows the strength of their belief.”

  Although he knew what the reply was going to be, Niko asked,

  “What will you have me do?”

  As she walked back to continue instructing her new maids, she ordered,

  “Follow the plan.”

  Niko then isolated the twelve faces, entered the targets into the computer that sent instructions to the cloud.

  As per plan, none of the deserters were together, separated by distance in the crowd. While jostled by the horde, Bishop Francisco Esposito tried his best not to look to the heavens, trying not to stare at the evil lurking high above. There was terror in his soul, a fear of his own doubt. Are they doing the right thing? What if it really was the will of God and are deliberately defying it. ‘Thy will be done’ was something he had promised God at the end of every prayer, and now this, breaking a solemn promise to obey the Creator.

  An old woman following Esposito suddenly let out a terrifying scream. At first, she thought the reason she could no longer see the back of his head was because he had looked down. However, when his shoulders and whole torso came apart, disappearing as if disintegrating atom by atom, she realized the impossibility of it all and screamed. By the time others had turned to see what the problem was, there was nothing on earth left of Bishop Francisco Esposito except a pair of oversized shoes.

  At the same time, the same invisible death beam struck the eleven other escapees. Their atomic structure lost their cohesion sending them to float in the cosmos forever as single atoms. Some tourists noticed their strange death while others did not notice the disappearance of twelve apostils setting out to spread a new faith upon the Earth.

  Chapter 34

  Deep in the canyon of the Three Sisters, on the river flowing through the gorge, five villagers huddled in a sampan tucked tight to the shore. Overhead shrubs hid them from view. They arrived early this morning waiting for hours to catch a glimpse of the spirit of the Three Sisters. Just when they thought the fisherman’s story was a lie, that the Sisters had not returned, one of them suddenly pointed up river. Eyes eager to catch sight of the spirits followed the direction.

  Skimming just above the river, a D-wing appeared in the distance and flew past the humble skeptics. As if to prove that it was not simply an illusion, the resultant gust of wind rocked the sampan and rustled the branches. Reverent faces saw it rise and enter what they assumed was a cliff of solid rock. From that point on, stories about the Three Sisters once again entered local folklore.

  When the D-wing had set down, Maria and Santo climbed out and headed for their living quarters. With Belle safe in a secret location belonging to the House of the Second Creation, both were ready for a long rest. As they entered the main lobby area, Maria suddenly frowned when seeing Waldorf hurriedly limping toward them. Impervious to their fatigue he stopped and snapped,

  “Time is running out. Zak has information for you about the third location.”

  As Waldorf pointed and took a step toward Zak’ desk, he expected them to follow. What he did not expect was both defiantly remaining frozen to the floor. When turning and waiting for an explanation, Maria said,

  “We have been on assignment for a long time.”

  She then wrinkled her nose and added,

  “Santo stinks. He could really use a shower and change of clothes.”

  Objecting, to the insult, Santo added,

  “You reek too.”

  Agitated, Waldorf looked at his watch and commanded,

  “Very well, 30 minutes.”

  Santo was the first to turn and make his way to their room.

  Despite the defiance of strict orders not to contact Belle had been forgiven, Maria still felt Santo’s coldness. Her greatest fear was that her insubordination had left a permanent scar on their relationship, a brick toppling off a sturdy wall. Proof of her fear was now evident. As they turned to walk toward their room, instead of always walking side by side, Santo was now a step or two ahead of her. Hurrying to catch up appeared to be a metaphor for her future with him.

  In their apartment, Santo seemed ea
ger to get out of dirty clothes. Despondent, she stood watching him undress. Standing naked, he wondered why she was looking at him with such sad eyes. When she saw the twinkle in his eye, a small gleam of hope sprang forward. He looked toward the shower and said,

  “Perhaps I should have told you. Because water around here is at a premium we have to shower together.”

  She leapt at him and got a loving kiss.

  While adjusting the temperature, a naked Maria playfully brushed past him. She stood in cold water waiting for him. She hated cold water. He was a bit surprised at her girlish eagerness waiting for him to jump in. When the water was just right, he finally joined her.

  Her caresses were sensual and affectionately accepted. Before both bodies could rinse off, she stepped into him and held tight. With her cheek tight to his wet chest, refusing to let go, he finally understood that something was wrong. With warm water cascading over both bodies, Maria started to cry. Confused, thinking that he had done something wrong, he drew on what most men thought to be a remedy for tears. He said,

  “You know I love you, right?”

  There it was. The missing piece that her heart was longing for finally fell into place. All would be well once again. After a sniffle, she slowly released him and started rinsing soap off his body. Out of the shower, although still confused about the tears, he was pleasantly surprised when she starting drying him with the towel.

  Out in the main lobby, Waldorf grew impatient waiting for them to freshen up. Time was at a premium, the threat of the destruction of the Vatican racing ever forward. What made things worse was constantly checking his watch. It did not take that long to shower and change clothes. What could they be doing? At the end of his patience, with the intention of knocking on the door, he hobbled toward their room. Only half way there, he saw them approaching. As this was not the time for smiles, their content grins confused him.

  When Zak saw them approach, he understood his treasured research time was finished. Accepting his fate, he raised his hand to his glasses and pushed them to the ridge of his nose. Preparing to absorb his wisdom Maria and Santo sat next to him. He said,

  “This mysterious benefactor you have found but refuse to identify mentioned the ancient Anasazi might be guarding the third piece of the weapon that can destroy the Sentinel Satellite. Well, sad to say, the Anasazi no longer exist. Like many advanced cultures, they too have mysteriously disappeared off the face of the Earth. What brings credence to this man’s story is that in the old Navajo language, ‘Anasazi’ can translate to ‘ancient strangers’.”

  Maria again did what Zak hated. She cut him off with a comment, as he saw it, an unnecessary one. Her remark was more to Santo than him. She said,

  “If you substitute ‘strangers’ for ‘aliens’ you could see why they thought the Anasazi were gods.”

  Santo was not willing to accept such a speculative explanation so easily. He looked to Zak, who took the hint and continued.

  “Yes, well you should not discard that speculation too quickly. There are twinges of truth in many Earth legends. In those days, the Anasazi legend said that they were guided to new lands by an odd-shaped cloud during the day and a moving star at night.”

  Again, Maria wanted to clarify a point to Santo.

  “Most of the ancient cultures in the Americas have similar stories about a cloud and stars along with strangers from the sun and moon guiding them to a new location. Just look what the Sky People did for the Inca culture in South America. The Sky People told the Inca that they came from the stars.”

  Wanting to contribute, Zak added,

  “Of course there is the famous story in Exodus where Moses and his people followed a cloud in the day and a star at night leading them out of the land of Egypt. The ancestors of Navajo legend tell of Children of the Moon having supernatural powers including the ability to heal, cure headaches, and foretell the future. They believe that the Children of the Moon came to earth to teach them an advanced culture. From those teachings the Navajo built hundreds of miles of road as well as creating irrigation for agriculture.”

  What sprang to Santo’s mind was Commander Razk’s lesson on the importance of guiding clouds in the Bible. Most notably, at least to him was the quote, ‘And then they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory.’ However, there was no doubt in his mind that the son of man was not coming to them in the cloud high over the Vatican. Indeed, he believed it came from a place other than heaven. Zak finished his talk with,

  “I think you should take seriously what this mysterious Edward told you about the Navajo and their connection to the Anasazi.”

  As urgency was tightening its knot around their effort to save the Vatican, they thanked Zak for his preliminary report and went straight to their D-wing. Once seated, Waldorf handed Santo the GPS program and said,

  “According to Zak, you are going to a place in the Americas called the Four Corners, where four of the United States converge. The rest of your instructions are in the computer.”

  As the canopy closed, Santo lifted the D-wing off the ground, zipped out of the cave and into the canyon.

  Far below the cave of the Three Sisters, still hidden under foliage, the five villagers continued to huddle together in the sampan. Soon, patience, enforced with a strong desire to see long lost spirits of the past was again rewarded. When they saw one of the Three Sisters emerge from solid rock, hurried words of prayer were uttered. Astonished eyes watched it lower to the river to pass as silently and swiftly as an arrow.

  Because their destination was east of Nepal, Santo shot the D-wing high into the stratosphere taking advantage of the Rotational Earth Speed. Their travel time was estimated to be just over one hour. Inside the D-wing, while high above the Pacific Ocean, Maria reached over and entwined her fingers with his. He looked down at the affection and then over to her. When he saw her suggestive smile, he had no choice but to knowingly smile back.

  Because they had left The Three Sisters late, when they reached the Four Corners it was getting dark, too late to initiate the plan. Aside from a very pleasant shower and a change of clothes, it had been two days before getting a decent meal and more than a nap and so they decided to land and catch up on both.

  Under cover of darkness, in a small community near their Navajo destination, Santo put the D-wing down behind a rustic hotel at the side of the road. After a big meal, they took a room. Sleep came easy to Maria. Santo, ever the diligent soldier stayed awake going through the notes Zak had given them about Navajo legends. However, because of Maria’s persistent cuddling, it was difficult for him to concentrate. He could not understand why she was so affectionate lately.

  The next morning, after a hearty breakfast they pretended to be out for a morning stroll. They were in fact looking for a safe place to call the D-wing back. Because of the flat desert like geography, it was a difficult task but eventually seclusion behind a barn served its purpose.

  While still cloaked, they followed GPS directions low over the flat land to the coordinates Zak knew was Navajo Holy Ground. When seeing the splendor of the land as well as colored rock formations that only an artist could envision, Maria imagined sitting on top of a mesa staring out into the magnificence of nature’s easel. She understood why the Navajo would call this their spirit land. It was no wonder the spirits chose this land. In awe she whispered,

  “It’s beautiful Santo.”

  In the distance, they saw a high plateau pointing up to the clouds. Upon approach, they saw atop the mesa an ancient Navajo stone structure. Around the ancient weatherworn building they saw about fifty Navajo people moving about. Maria asked,

  “What would they be doing on such a high mesa?”

  Santo, thankful that he had shown diligence to the Intel Zak had provided answered,

  “Translated, it is something they refer to as ‘sky lodge’. It’s a holy place restricted to the elite of their people. They are preparing to make a big fire.”

  “Why?”


  “There is a Spirit Day coming soon. The fire will be a signal to the ancient Star People that they are still waiting for their return. With a roaring fire on top of the mesa, in the twilight, it would give the impression of a giant candle.”

  With the camouflaged D-wing circling the mesa, Santo was looking for something, anything that could be used to their advantage. The plan, like Maria’s mission to the holy temple in the Tibetan Plateau, was to impress the Navajo with a connection to their legends of the Anasazi Star People. Maria knew what they were supposed to do but not what Santo had in mind. As it turned out, he didn’t either.

  While hovering and watching the Navajo pulling wood up the sheer cliff with ropes and throwing it onto a great stack, Santo was strangely quiet. She understood that options were milling about in his mind and so left him alone to develop a strategy. Suddenly he blurted out,

  “Got it. You know these D-wings are equipped with heat resistance technology right?”

  She produced a snicker and said,

  “Well yeah. With the way we zip up and down from the stratosphere I should hope so.”

  Santo positioned the cloaked D-wing about fifty yards above the great pile of firewood. As he entered computer commands, Maria asked,

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “I’m going to start a fire.”

  “Then what?”

  “Then you just trust me and play along.”

  From an invisible D-wing, an invisible laser beam shot forward. Almost instantly the woodpile started to smoke and suddenly burst into roaring flames. The Navajo were stunned. The Star People were not supposed to be conjured forth just yet. Although it was attempted, it quickly became apparent that without water, their hectic attempt to put the fire out was futile.