The normally warm and charismatic demeanor of the man changed. He looked up from his computer and stared at the priest with cold black eyes. The priest involuntarily recoiled and wondered if he should continue to speak. This was no ordinary man he was sitting next to, but someone chosen by Satan himself to protect his secrets here on earth.
“I didn’t know until your phone call a few minutes ago that the book had been destroyed in the chapel,” Emilio said. “When I discovered that the backpack I took from them in the catacombs was empty, I figured they had taken the real one containing the book to Morelli’s house in the country.”
The man continued to stare at him silently, totally unnerving the priest.
“Obviously, I was wrong. Is there anything else you wish me to do for you tonight, sir?”
The man switched his gaze back to his computer screen, giving the priest a reprieve from the otherworldly stare he had endured for the past few moments.
“Don’t worry, Emilio. No harm has been done.” He continued to gaze into the blue light emanating from his laptop.
The priest was taken by surprise. “But, sir, the book. There’s nothing left of it but ashes now.”
The man turned and gave the priest a sinister smile that was just as frightening as his most menacing glare. “I always have a backup plan.” He hit a key on the keyboard, and a series of pages began running across the screen. Emilio stared at it in wonder. The writing and language were foreign to him.
“What is it, sir?”
“It’s our Bible. Satan’s book for the end of days. That Jesuit priest had it copied into a computer in Israel in case anything happened to it. I simply hacked into their database and retrieved it. We no longer have the power of the book itself, so let them have their rapture when the time comes. At least we still have the words, and they will remain safe with me until the time comes when our master arrives and we rule the world in Satan’s name.”
Epilogue
Six Months Later
Lev and John relaxed on the rear deck of the Carmela while Ariella napped on the sofa in the rear salon. The yacht was tied up alongside its dock in Caesarea as the crew went about the daily ritual of scrubbing away the corrosive effects of the salt from the sea. On the flat-screen TV over the bar, the men watched the limited clean-up efforts that continued in and around Houston. The city was a shell of its former self, and the daily pictures that bounced off satellites to TV’s around the globe showed that it had been reduced to a frontier-like existence.
Radioactivity was still high and would remain at lethal levels for years to come before rebuilding could safely begin. In Rome, the news of the pope’s sudden death had stunned the world, and Catholics in every city on earth kept a close eye on the Vatican as the conclave of cardinals cast their votes for the next pontiff.
Lev lit a cigar and laid back in his deck chair. “Are you ready for the big day?”
John smiled back at his future father-in-law. “I’m as ready as I ever will be. I never knew so much planning could go into a wedding. Ariella is really excited.”
Lev peered into the salon at the sleeping form of his daughter on one of the couches with Camp curled up at her feet. “She doesn’t seem too excited right now.”
“She’s exhausted. I think she’s been on the phone for two solid days now. All her friends here in Israel are coming, along with my family and friends from America. She wants to have the ceremony on the beach next to the villa.”
“I thought she would choose the beach. Her mother and I were married there, and Ariella said it was one of your favorite places.”
“I can’t think of a more beautiful spot. By the way, Lev, thanks for the wedding gift.”
Lev glanced sideways at John with a look of mock surprise. “What gift?”
“Ariella told me about it yesterday. I hear you’re giving us a house.”
“It’s the house Ariella was raised in. We had just moved into the villa when her mother died, so most of her childhood memories of us as a family are in that little house. My wife designed it, you know. That’s probably another reason Ariella has always held a special place in her heart for it. It’s in a great location close to the sea and has the most beautiful garden on the property. I can’t imagine anyone else ever living there. I hope you and Ariella will be as happy there as Carmela and I were.” Lev looked over at John and winked. “It will be a great place to raise my grandchildren.”
Laughter erupted above them as Father’s Leo and Morelli came bouncing down the stairs from the top deck. Morelli flopped down in a deck chair, while Leo stood and looked out over the ancient harbor. The harbor at Caesarea had been built by Herod the Great at the site of an old Phoenician port in 22 BC and was dedicated to Caesar Augustus.
Leo and Morelli were in Israel for John and Ariella’s wedding. They had both been hard at work beneath the Vatican for the past six months overseeing the construction of a new underground center surrounding the ancient chapel. The mysterious chapel was now considered one of the most holy places in the world.
In addition to spending time at the chapel, Leo had also been sifting through ancient scrolls in the Vatican library for hints of any ancient Christian sects who had once lived in Rome and who might have been led by a prophet. He believed that the people who constructed the ancient chapel and painted the images depicting future events must have been Christians inspired by God, and Leo hoped that someday the code would reveal their secret.
Sarah had returned to America and she and Daniel e-mailed daily. They would be seeing each other again for the first time in months at John and Ariella’s wedding. The wedding would be the perfect backdrop for a reunion of everyone who had participated in finding the Devil’s Bible and delivering it to the chapel where the miracle of the angels had occurred.
Water continued to pour forth from the Negev Desert, and families were moving there from all over Israel to start farms as the government worked to harness the power of the water. Oil companies from around the globe were drilling for oil under contract from the Israeli government, and the country was now as rich as Saudi Arabia.
Moshe’s wife, Hadar, called the men on the back deck to lunch, and soon, they were consuming turkey club sandwiches and drinking Cokes under the shade of the blue and white awning. The image of Saint Peter’s Square filled the flat screen TV over the bar as the camera zoomed across the crowd and focused on the small, thin smokestack above the Sistine Chapel. The whole world watched in anticipation as white smoke began to pour into the crisp morning air. A new pope had been chosen.
The men watched intently as Saint Peter’s Basilica came into view and the camera panned across the square showing thousands of Catholics standing in front of the huge church anxiously awaiting their first sight of the new Pope. The newscasters continued to debate which cardinal had been chosen-their cameras now focused on the polished wooden doors that opened out onto a balcony at the front of the church facing Saint Peter’s Square. The doors opened, and after a brief pause, a cardinal dressed in red stepped out and looked over the crowd.
He adjusted his glasses and read from a sheet of paper. Speaking in Italian, he addressed the throng below with the news that a new pope had been named. Since the eleventh century, almost all newly elected popes had chosen to voluntarily give up their baptismal names and pick a new name. The crowd waited breathlessly. Their long wait was rewarded when a tall figure dressed in white and wearing the signature white skull cap of the pope walked through the doors and out onto the balcony. He blessed the crowd as the cardinal beside him announced his new name to the world. Cardinal Marcus Lundahl was now Pope Michael in honor of the archangel who had come to his aid in the fight against Satan.
A crewmember approached Father Morelli with a cell phone. “It’s for you, Father.”
After a brief exchange, a wide smile crossed Morelli’s face as he thanked the caller and snapped the phone shut. Leo was still watching the proceedings at the Vatican on TV when Morelli tapped him on the shoulder.
Leo cast a casual look at Morelli and took a sip of his Coke. “What is it, Anthony? Don’t you want to hear what Marcus … I mean, Pope Michael is about to say?”
“I’m glad you’re sitting down, Father, because I have some news for you.”
“For me? What is it?”
