When the Vatican Knights saw the overhead lights flicker on, they knew they had to regain the advantage. As they moved down the corridor, they aimed their weapons with eagle-eye precision and with one shot took out a camera, one right after the other.
. . . pop . . . pop . . . pop . . .
The caveat, however, was that they didn’t have an infinity number of rounds, so the ammo had to be used sparingly.
. . . pop . . . pop . . . pop . . .
* * *
At Base Command, Jonah was watching the monitors go from a full view to having no view at all, the screens going dark one right after the other in quick succession.
“What’s going on?” Jonah asked. “Where are my pictures?”
The tech typed commands into the computer, bringing up visual feeds on the grid-patterned screen. In the west-wing tunnel, Jonah watched Isaiah and Samuel moving down the corridor aiming their weapons at the cameras, and with such surgical precision with just one shot necessary, they took out a camera here and a camera there, the tunnel turning black in their wake.
“They’re blinding us,” Jonah said evenly. “They know we can follow their path, so they’re taking back the advantage. I would have done the same thing. We took away their advantage of the darkness, and they took away our advantage of the light.” Then Jonah hit a button on the console. “Demerol!”
“Go!”
“What’s your twenty?”
“A couple hundred yards, maybe less.”
“Step it up! I need you and Uncango here now! We’re about to have company!”
“Copy that.”
Hitting the communication button to kill the call, Jonah reached for his knife that was neatly stowed away in a tanned leather sheath. Undoing the button, he removed the knife, a long and steady draw. The black matte blade was ten inches long with a razor edge on one side and a serrated one on the other. He looked at it with adoration, the blade an extension of himself, and one that had taken the lives of those without faith or hope. But his most prized kill was when he ran the blade horizontally across the gut of Kimball Hayden.
Then his voice that was barely above a murmur as he appraised the knife endearingly, he said, “The power of God is with me.” As he tucked the weapon back into its sheath, he looked at the monitors. Isaiah and Samuel were moving at a steady click down the west-wing hallway, coming closer and closer to the comm center. In the last grid, the lower right box, Isaiah, looking directly into the camera, something Jonah took as a challenge, raised his weapon and pulled the trigger. There was a brief muzzle flash, and then nothing, the screen went black.
* * *
It didn’t take long for Demerol and Uncango to reach the comm center station of PCs, wild tangles of cable across the floor, and a plethora of monitors. Neither man was winded, even when running the length of two football fields at full speed.
When they reached Jonah, the man simply pointed to the west-wing monitors. “He’s taking out our cameras,” he simply stated. “The team has divided into two groups. This group,” he said, pointing, “has perhaps the most elite of the Vatican Knights now that Kimball Hayden is not among them. His name is Isaiah.” On the screen, Isaiah, along with Samuel, continued toward their position, taking out cameras along the way. “The Vatican Knight with him is Samuel. The other two are in the west tunnel where they’ll be met by Jenson and Diamanti. Your job is to confront these two, Isaiah and Samuel, and neutralize them.”
Neither Demerol nor Uncango betrayed their emotions.
“This is your chance, gentlemen, to prove your worth not only to me . . . but to God. You’re doing His work now, so he’ll favor you over the heathens. Remember that.”
Demerol nodded.
Then from Jonah, “May God be with you.”
Without saying another word, they were gone, heading to intercept the Vatican Knights.
After they disappeared into the shadows, Jonah placed a hand on the primary tech's shoulder, addressing everyone at the console – six techs in total. “You have done your jobs well,” he stated to them in monotone. “You have ignited a hell storm through the use of AI that will force people to walk through Hell before they can go to Heaven, will it not?”
There was a chorus of light murmurs.
“No matter who comes through those gateways,” Jonah said, pointing his finger toward the deep shadows, “you will continue to man your posts to the very end. What you do, you do in the name of God, yes?”
Another round of muttering in agreement.
“The Vatican Knights will not harm you since it’s against their code of ethics, so there’s nothing to fear. Keep spreading the disinformation for as long as you can. If my people are not up to the task of terminating the intruders . . .” He let his words hang since his emotions were vacillating between whose unit was superior, his group of mercenaries or the Vatican Knights. Despite his hope for his mercenaries' success, logic dictated the Vatican Knights' advantage.
Patting the tech’s shoulder, Jonah said, “If Demerol proves himself, inform him that I’ll be in my quarters finalizing matters.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jonah, picking up his pace into the jog, made his way to his subterranean office.