James Acton 04 - The Templar's Relic by J Robert Kennedy Page A

nothing in hours. What’s it all about?”
    “Well, some archaeologist friends of ours discovered an ancient piece of parchment that changes the fundamental meaning of one of the Jihadists’ favorite Koran verses.”
    “Archaeologist friends.” Dawson shook his head. “You don’t mean—”
    Clancy nodded. “Yup, Professors Acton and Palmer.”
    Dawson couldn’t help but laugh. “How the hell do those two keep doing it?”
    Clancy shrugged. “I don’t know, but our intel tells us they’re at the top of the hit list. This riot appears to not just be a riot. There’s a controlled element to it, and we’re not sure what they’re up to yet. All we do know, is not only does that element need to be stopped, but we have an American citizen who needs our help.”
    Dawson frowned. He had fought beside Acton, and considered him a man of honor, a man he could trust. And a man he had no interest in seeing dead. “Is this sanctioned? I mean, going in for one man?”
    “This is off the books for now. Pretty much every country is prepositioning special ops teams, including us, so expect it to be by the time you arrive.”
    “What’s the current situation?”
    “The protestors, if you can call them that, have taken over Saint Peter’s Basilica, and it looks like the city will be lost.”
    “Jesus,” muttered Dawson. Though not a Catholic, he understood the significance. He also understood how it couldn’t be allowed to stand.
    “What do you need us to do?”
     

 
     
     
    Via del Governatorato, Vatican City
     
    Giasson flipped open his phone and speed dialed his contact at the Roma Polizia whom he knew would be trying to coordinate things on the outside. He and the professors, along with the guards and dozens of civilians they had picked up along the way were moving as fast as they could down Via del Governatorato, away from the Apostolic Palace and toward the Governatorate Palace that housed his security headquarters.
    But that wasn’t their destination.
    The phone was answered. “Deputy Commissioner Ezio Vitale here.”
    “This is Giasson. We’ve got a plan, and we need your help.”
    “Name it.”
    “I need a path cleared on the south exit, as many men as you can spare, with as many buses as you can get.”
    “Mario, there is no south exit.”
    “Think about it. I don’t want to say it on an open line, just in case.”
    There was a pause, then an excited, “Oh!” followed by a more subdued, “oh.”
    “What?”
    “That’s going to take hundreds of men. How many are coming out?”
    “If everyone follows the evacuation order, and is able to get to the assembly area in time, five hundred.”
    “Five hundred! That’ll be at least a dozen buses. How the hell do you expect me to do that without attracting attention?”
    Giasson was sympathetic, but didn’t have time to care. “Can you do it?”
    “I’ll do what I can. When?”
    “Fifteen minutes.”
    “Fifteen minutes!” Several curses then a prayer for forgiveness burst forth. “Call me in ten minutes.”
    The phone went dead.
    Giasson continued with the group, then pointed at one of his men as they approached the Governatorate Palace. “Tell all non-essential personnel to follow us!”
    The man nodded and sprinted toward the front entrance.
    Gunfire tore through the air over their heads and Giasson looked back. The mob that had broken through the Apostolic Palace were now spread out through the grounds, several chasing the growing group. He couldn’t risk being followed.
    He stopped and squeezed off several rounds at the approaching group, several of whom appeared armed. Two of his men took knees beside him. “Hold this line.” He turned toward the Governatorate Palace and waved at several of the armed personnel swarming out with the civilians. Within seconds they were joined by a dozen men. “Spread out, hold this line. We can’t have them seeing what we’re doing. Keep directing civilians to the rally point.”
    “Yes, sir!”