THE EYE OF MOSES
By
Rick JONES
© 2020 Rick Jones. All rights reserved.
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The Vatican Knights is a TRADEMARK property
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and should not be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Also, by Rick Jones:
Vatican Knights Series
The Vatican Knights
Shepherd One
The Iscariot Agenda
Pandora's Ark
The Bridge of Bones
Crosses to Bear
The Lost Cathedral
Dark Advent
Cabal
The Golgotha Pursuit
Targeted Killing
Sinners and Saints
The Barbed Crown
The Vatican Knights
series
continued:
The Devil’s Magician
The Nocturnal Saints
The Brimstone Diaries
Juggernaut
Original Sins (a prequel)
In Between God and Devil
The Sinai Directive
The Barabbas Connection
The Eye of Moses
The Eden Series
The Crypts of Eden (A John Savage/Alyssa Moore Adventure)
The Thrones of Eden (A John Savage/Alyssa Moore Adventure)
City Beneath the Sea
(A John Savage/Alyssa Moore Adventure)
The Sacred Vault (A John Savage/Alyssa Moore Adventure)
City Within the Clouds (A John Savage/Alyssa Moore Adventure)
City Beneath the Ice (A John Savage/Alyssa Moore Adventure)
With RICK CHESLER
First Strike
Standalone ADVENTURE
:
The Menagerie
(A John Savage/Alyssa Moore Adventure)
The Man Who Cast Two Shadows
The Valley (Severed Press)
Mausoleum 2069 (Severed Press and Luzifer-Verlag)
The Hunter Series:
Night of the Hunter
The Black Key
Theater of Operation
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
CHAPTER FIFTY
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
CHAPTER SIXTY
CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
CHAPTER SEVENTY
CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX
CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE
CHAPTER EIGHTY
CHAPTER EIGHTY-ONE
CHAPTER EIGHTY-TWO
EPILOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
Mayfair, the West End of London
Nineteen Days Ago
On a beautiful evening with streamers of fading light disappearing beyond the horizon, Wendall J. Somerset could not have been happier. Not only did he live in one of the most affluent locations in London, he also adored his family. And since little in life was perfect, he considered his wife and daughter to be close to it.
Getting off the tube at Mayfair, Somerset stopped by a flower shop to purchase a colorful arrangement of roses before continuing to his residential flat. Entering his home, he called out to his wife from the foyer while placing his fedora on the entry table, then walked into the dining room with the bouquet in hand. Within the subsequent moments that seemed to move with the slowness of a bad dream, Wendall J. Somerset released the bouquet to the parquet floor.
Sitting at the table with his wife and daughter was a man with a pallid complexion, shock-white hair, and eyes so pale they appeared almost entirely white. When Somerset tried to pin the stranger with a matching stare, it was as though he was looking directly through the man.
“Good evening, Mr. Copernicus,” the stranger stated evenly. In his hand and directed to his daughter’s head was a suppressed Glock. Across the table and sitting with paralytic terror was Somerset’s wife, whose eyes darted inquisitively from her husband to the stranger as their daughter wept. Then from the stranger whose measure remained strangely indifferent, he said, “You’re ten minutes late.” Looking at the roses on the floor, he added, “But now I see why.”
“What do you want?”
“What I want from you, Mr. Copernicus, is the answer to a single question. That’s all I’m asking for.”
At the mention of the name ‘Copernicus,’ Somerset let a facial tic slip that was noticed by the man holding the Glock.
“I see,” the pale man said after intuiting the movement. “You obviously left your family in the dark regarding certain moments of your life, didn’t you? Choosing to be a man of mystery by allowing your family to live with a lie.” He turned to Somerset’s wife. “Did you think that your husband could provide you with such a lavish lifestyle in one of the most affluent places in London simply on an accountant’s salary? Or did you turn a blind eye because you were afraid to learn the truth in fear that it might all go away?” Then he cocked his head like a baffled dog to study her features before he made his conclusion. “No,” he said, “I believe you really thought that he was an accountant.” He turned to Somerset. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Copernicus? You lied to your family as to who you really work for. Or what you really do.” Then the stranger clicked his tongue several times as if to shame Somerset, though in jest.
“I don’t have anything you want,” Somerset informed the stranger. “Believe me.”
“Believe you? I believe you have the answer I’m looking for, Mr. Copernicus. And I plan to get it.”
Then from his daughter who, in between hitching gasps, asked, “Why does he keep . . . calling you . . . Mr. Coperni—”
Somerset cut her off by patting the air with his hands. “It’s going to be all right, sweetheart. Everything’s going to be fine. Trust me.”
Then the stranger whispered into the daughter’s ear with the point of his weapon pressed to her temple, causing the flesh to dimple beneath its touch. “Yes, sweetheart. Everything’s going to be fine as soon as your father tells me what I want to know.”
At this precise moment when Somerset saw his daughter sobbing with indescribable fear, it was then that his integrity broke down to the point of disavowing any honorable oaths he had taken to conceal ancient secrets. Then, and in a voice that was on the edge of cracking, he said, “Please . . . All I ask is that you don’t hurt my family. I’ll give you whatever
