"Actually we surfaced out beyond the surf and they brought us ashore in two rubber boats. They left one for us and returned to the sub in the other one."

"How long have you been out here?"

"About three hours. The storm picked up quite a bit after we landed. We could tell that those sailors had quite a time getting back out through the surf in their little rubber boat, even with an engine."

"We had a little difficulty ourselves," Morelli said. "I just hope we can make it back out, because the waves out there look even bigger than they did when we arrived."

"We've got to make it, Anthony. Eduardo grows weaker by the hour."

"Is he still insisting on traveling to the Dark Ruin?"

Leo paused to sip his coffee as he looked up at the darkening sky. "I'm afraid so, but I think it's obvious to anyone who looks at him that a trip to Turkey is out of the question."

"Did he tell you what this so-called transformation process involves ... or if there's anything that can be done to stop it?"

"Only that the first part of the transformation involves extinguishing the divine spark that shines within us all ... the spark that's instilled within every living thing once they begin to grow within their mother's womb."

"But Adrian's birth was an aberration. He and his brother were born of a jackal, and when we talk of a divine spark, we're actually referring to the soul, which means we're treading upon some very interesting theological ground here."

"The nature of his birth is less puzzling to me than the reason he was allowed to live as a normal boy for all of these years," Leo said. "Just think about it for a moment. Why would Satan wait? Why would he go through all the trouble to transform an apparently normal boy into the Antichrist after he had spent all of his formative years in a loving home that provided him with such a positive moral base? That part of it is a total mystery to me ... one I can't seem to wrap my head around."

Morelli rubbed the stubble on his chin as he stared out at the breaking waves. "You know, Leo, when you think about it, Christ led a pretty normal life until he began his ministry. Maybe the forty days he spent in the desert when he was tempted by Satan was a kind of transition period, because things certainly kicked into overdrive once he returned. Maybe this transition Acerbi speaks of is the turning point in Adrian's life, only it's a direct opposite to Christ's life. I mean, when you're talking about the Antichrist you're talking about the opposite of Christ."

"I don't know, Anthony. The whole thing just doesn't feel right. To take a normal, loving child and turn him into the Beast is something I'm having a hard time coming to grips with. Maybe it's all part of his education. You know, it takes one to know one. The Antichrist is going to be very charming, and he has to learn those skills somewhere. Maybe that's what the first part of his life was all about ... learning to act like a normal person. All I know is that he will suddenly appear to come out of nowhere and offer mankind a solution to all of the problems plaguing them just when things are beginning to spin out of control, and things are definitely beginning to spin out of control right now."

"Good heavens, Leo. You really do dive below the surface. Have you discussed any of this with the Holy Father?"

"No, he has enough on his plate right now. Lucifer is a very crafty fellow, Anthony, and I believe he's surrounding us with deceit and diversion right now. We must tread very carefully in the hours and days ahead, because the Evil One isn't going to show his hand so easily. He's a master poker player in every sense of the word, and if he discovers that we've stumbled upon his cosmic sleight of hand he will come at us with everything he has. If Adrian is really the Antichrist, there's nothing we as men can do to stop his transition."

Morelli looked down and ran his fingers over the gold cross on his ring. "Do you really believe we're being deceived right now, Leo, or are we being tested?"

"Let's just say that I have a strong hunch that anyone who tries to interfere with Satan's plan will be falling into a trap. In all of my years as a Jesuit priest, I've always compared Lucifer to a master poker player who plays for souls instead of money, but he's also a magician. While he diverts your attention in one direction, the real action is occurring somewhere else. Card shark or magician, his methods are the same, and he's been very successful at the game of evil. He's been infiltrating our church and stirring up enmity between different religions for thousands of years, and the human race just keeps falling right back into the old habit of playing the game by his rules.

"As a species, it seems we have very short memories. History has taught us nothing, and we are preparing to pay the ultimate price. I'll be very interested to see what emerges after this so-called transition occurs, because we'll know soon enough if this is the real thing or just another one of Lucifer's magician's tricks to divert our attention from the real game he's about to play. Let's just say that, as an old poker player, I have a hunch that this time Satan's not bluffing."

CHAPTER 38.

Nightfall was fast approaching when the boat carrying the pope appeared from the misty gloom covering the dark water and motored up to a dock in the Porto Romano Marina at Fiumicino Harbor. Standing on the dock next to a plain white van, Cardinal McCulley and Leonardo Vespa held umbrellas over their heads while Francois eased back on the throttles and let the boat glide the rest of the way up against a set of old tires draped over the concrete dock.

Wearing jeans and a black sweater, the pope pulled his baseball cap down over his eyes and climbed up onto the dock.

"Your Holiness!" Vespa gasped. "You don't know how relieved we are to see you. Please, come this way. We must get you into the van before you're spotted."

"Let's get Mr. Acerbi tended to first."

Looking down into the boat, they could see the old man's parchment-like skin was devoid of any color as he wheezed beneath two blankets. Quickly, the Swiss Guards lifted him up onto the dock and carried him to the waiting SUV.

"He's looking worse by the hour," the pope said to Francois. "Have your men bring a doctor to the hotel."

McCulley's face reddened. "Hotel?"

"Yes. I've decided not to return to the Vatican just yet, Cardinal."

"But, Your Holiness ... Cardinal Acone is attempting to have you replaced permanently as we speak."

"Acone, eh." Fire blazed in the pope's eyes. "Why doesn't that surprise me?" Looking toward the outline of Rome in the distance, he made his way to the waiting van as Vespa tilted his umbrella to cover the pope's face.

"Take us to the Hotel Amalfi," Pope Michael said. "I'm afraid I must play out this little charade a little while longer, so I'll be setting up a temporary headquarters there for the next few days until it's safe to return. There are dark forces at work all around us right now, and we must wait for our enemies to reveal themselves. One must know his enemy before he can defend himself, and it will be by their actions that we will know our own."

Settling into the back seat for the short drive into Rome, the pope noticed the look of exasperation showing on McCulley's face. "What's wrong, Cardinal?"

"I'm afraid I have bad news, Your Holiness. In the past twenty-four hours a computer epidemic of global proportions has started to affect practically every country on Earth. There now appears to be a new and even more powerful worm, and it's making its way into computers all over the world. People are literally panicking in the streets, because someone or something with great power has taken control of almost every aspect of their lives. We're talking about things like power plants, banks, transportation systems ... anything that's connected to a computer is at the mercy of this new worm. It holds the power to determine our ability to obtain the necessities of life, and it's shutting us out."

Those watching could see the look of determination on Pope Michael's face. "Has anyone taken credit for this attack yet?"

"There was a single message that went out over the internet before it was shut down."

"And what did it say?"

McCulley looked down as he grasped the wooden rosary in his lap. "It simply stated that humanity is on the brink of a great calamity and that a great savior is on the way." McCulley paused again, as if talking about it somehow made it worse.

"Go on, Cardinal," the pope said, "continue."

"It went on to say that if people cooperate with the new savior they will have nothing to worry about ... that this action was being taken for the good of all mankind. According to all the news bulletins that were flooding the airwaves before the television stations went off the air, governments all over the world were working together in an attempt to locate the source. We've since learned that all government communications systems were shut down shortly thereafter, including all of the military systems. It's a nightmare, Your Holiness. Some who know about it are even beginning to blame all of this on the arrival of the dark star."

"They may be closer to the truth than they realize," Leo said, looking out into the darkness covering the city. As they turned off the freeway, he could feel his jaw tightening as they drove past the Castel Sant'Angelo and the statue of the Archangel Michael, frozen in the act of sheathing his sword. It was a stark reminder of the spiritual battle that lay ahead for them all.

Rounding the corner, the van continued up the Via Germanico before coming to a stop a block away from the Hotel Amalfi. Looking down the tree-lined street, memories of all the times he had stayed at the hotel over the years before he had moved to Rome began to flood Leo's thoughts. The owner, Arnolfo Bignoti, had always treated Leo like one of the family and had been instrumental in helping him out of tight situations in the past on more than one occasion. It was for that very reason that Leo felt confident that their sudden and unannounced arrival in the city would go unnoticed until they could return to the Vatican.

As soon as the van rolled to a stop, Francois asked everyone to remain inside while Leo pulled his hat over his eyes and stepped out. Walking on a narrow sidewalk in front of closed shops, Leo looked across the street at the Vatican and wondered how many cameras were pointed in their direction at that very moment. Stopping in front of the hotel, he made a final scan of the street before bounding up the weathered stone steps. Light from inside spilled out through the tall, etched-glass panels set into a pair of aged Victorian doors, and as he peered inside he could see Arnolfo sitting behind the familiar wooden counter, deep in thought as he read his paper and sipped espresso from a tiny porcelain cup. Pushing the door inward, Leo stepped onto the black and white marble squares covering the 19th century lobby floor and walked over to the desk.

"Buon giorno, signor. I'm looking for a few rooms."

Lowering his paper, Arnolfo's eyes widened as he leapt from his chair. "Cardinal Leo! Come sta? We've all been so worried. We heard you were missing!"

"I'm fine, Arnolfo, but it seems as though I've gotten myself into a little jam again."

"I figured as much, Cardinal," Arnolfo winked. "How can I help?"

"I'm sorry to impose on you, my friend, but I have some guests outside that need a discreet place to stay for a few nights. Can you help us out?"

"Of course, Cardinal ... of course. Your friends are my friends. Besides, the hotel is practically empty right now with all this news about computers being broken or something. Our online booking system is down and the phone isn't working for some reason. You and your guests can have the entire third floor."

"That would be perfect, Arnolfo. I'll be right back." Leo turned and checked the empty lobby before walking back outside into the rain-cooled night air to signal the waiting group in the van.

A few minutes later, the unsuspecting hotel owner practically had a seizure when he recognized the tall figure of Pope Michael walk through the lobby doors. Dropping to his knees, Arnolfo clasped his hands together and bowed his head.

"Please, Mr. Bignoti." The pope reached down and lifted the short man to his feet. "Thank you for welcoming us into your hotel. Cardinal Amodeo has told me much about you."

Arnolfo looked like he was close to fainting as he mumbled something unintelligible and looked over at Leo.

"I apologize, my friend," Leo said, "I should have told you who my guests were."

Arnolfo's hands shook as he tried to smile. "That's quite alright, Cardinal. A man needs a little excitement in his life every now and then. It's good for the blood." Without taking his eyes off the pope, he reached behind him and pulled a set of brass keys off their hooks. "I have some beautiful suites on the third floor that have just been remodeled. Do you have any luggage, Your Holiness?"

"No, you might say we've been traveling light over the past few days."

"I will make sure you have anything you need. Just give me a list and my daughter will do the shopping for you. She's very good at that."

"Thank you. That's very kind, but I've heard it's getting hard to find food in the city. Is your family well supplied?"

"Yes, Your Holiness. Our cellar is well-stocked and we share with our neighbors. For all its worth, we can still use paper money, and the farmers have said that they will still be bringing meat and produce to market as usual. The people I worry about are the ones who shop in the big stores on the outskirts of the city. Most of them rely on their little plastic cards. What's going to happen to them?"

"I wish I could answer that question, Arnolfo, but I can promise you that we will do everything in our power to return things to normal as soon as possible."

"That's a very consoling thought, Your Holiness, but from what we've heard things are only going to get worse. We may have to go to my sister's farm in Umbria, and you're more than welcome to come with us."

As Arnolfo was smiling at the thought of bringing the pope with him to his sister's house, two Swiss Guards came charging through the lobby doors carrying Eduardo Acerbi wrapped in a rain coat. "We need to get Mr. Acerbi up to a room as soon as possible," one of them said, grasping Eduardo under the arms.

"Your friend looks ill," Arnolfo said. "Would you like me to send for a doctor?"

"That won't be necessary, Mr. Bignoti," Francois said. "A doctor is already on the way."

"Yes ... yes ... of course," Arnolfo stammered as two more Swiss Guards entered the lobby and stood by the door with their guns drawn. "If you would all be so kind as to follow me, I'll take you all to your rooms and have some wine and food sent up right away."

Wrapping his arm around the bony shoulder of the diminutive hotel owner, the pope walked by his side as they entered the ancient, cage-like elevator. "A glass of wine would be most welcome now, Mr. Bignoti."

Sliding the elevator doors closed, Arnolfo looked up into the pope's striking blue eyes. "I can't believe you're really here, Your Holiness. Wait until I tell my wife that the pope is staying in our little hotel."

CHAPTER 39.

Sandwiched between the borders of Egypt and Jordan, the soldiers from Team 5 could see the stars for the first time in days as they stepped from the Israeli sub Leviathan into the humid night air permeating the naval base. Following their mission in Babylon, they had transferred to a sub for their journey up into the Red Sea before moving into the Gulf of Aqaba, where they finally docked at the small naval base in Eilat. From there they would travel overland to their secret base forty-five miles away in the barren Negev Desert.

Waiting for them was Danny Zamir, Lev Wasserman, and Alon Lavi, who had arrived in Tel Aviv the day before aboard the Tekuma and had been driven to Team 5's base in the Negev Desert under the cover of darkness after being picked up by Nava in Lev's old Land Rover.

Arriving at the base at the height of a sand storm, the men of Team 5 braced themselves against the abrasive wind that whipped around the corners of the cinder-block buildings that made up their bare-bones base. The sand storms that regularly swept the barren desert around them had blasted every exposed surface with a fine grit, covering the buildings in a patina that mimicked the look of the land.

Shuffling into the briefing while still trying to brush away the powder-like dust that clung stubbornly to their uniforms, the men traded jokes and shared in the camaraderie born from living through a suicidal mission that had everyone scratching their heads when they finally realized they had survived.

Zamir's thick eyebrows waved up and down as he surveyed the room full of soldiers, his eyes finally landing on the mission commander-his own son, Ben Zamir.

"Commander, while we wait for Lev and Daniel, I'd like to hear more about this monstrous computer you and your team discovered beneath Acerbi's compound in Babylon. From what I've heard, you were all lucky to escape with your lives. I've seen the mission pictures. You took a huge chance going into a fortified position like that, not to mention the fact that you were probably outnumbered by at least twenty to one."

"Yes, sir," Ben answered. "Daniel called it a quantum computer. According to him, the technology needed to build a computer like that hasn't been invented yet. We took a few pictures for the analysts to go over."

"Well, apparently it has been invented," the elder Zamir snapped back.

Ben eyed his father like a teenager who had snuck into the house after curfew. He knew he had taken a risk, and that his father's gruff response was just a reaction to the stress the old man had felt waiting for his only son to return from a mission that had been given low odds of survival from the beginning.

"Must have been tough being raised by a guy like that," Sergeant Efron whispered to Ben.

Ben grinned. "Let's just say I didn't get away with much."

From a side door, Lev Wasserman entered the room followed by a group of computer scientists that had just arrived from the University in Jerusalem. Taking seats next to Danny Zamir, Lev pushed a button on a wireless controller and a picture of the black sphere filled the large screen on the wall behind them. "Is this the computer?" Zamir asked the commandos.

"Yes, sir," Ben replied. "The sphere itself stood almost four stories over our heads, but we were standing on a metal grating over a pit filled with fiber optic wires connected to the bottom of the thing. We estimated that the space below us was another forty feet deep."

Lev pulled a cigar from his shirt pocket and lit it with a match. "I can see that. You managed to take some good pictures. This thing certainly appears to have all the hallmarks of a quantum computer. From Daniel's description of the crystal he found, plus all the laser and liquid nitrogen cooling systems used to keep it cool, it looks as if someone has solved a multitude of problems twenty years ahead of schedule."

Lev paused as he blew out a ring of smoke. "I believe everyone here is up to speed on the worldwide shutdown of the internet and every computer-controlled piece of hardware around the globe. According to some hasty calculations my colleagues and I just made in an effort to estimate the computing power it would take to achieve something on that scale, we believe this computer is only the tip of the iceberg. There are probably more of them out there somewhere."

"From what we overheard," Ben said, "the computer we saw was the first one they had built, because they were waiting for the crystal we found to fire the thing up."

"It was their first quantum computer," a voice called out from the back of the room. Everyone turned to see Daniel standing next to two computer scientists, and he was holding the blue disk they had brought back from Babylon. "This computer disk is like nothing any of us has ever seen before. It's made from sapphire and platinum, and according to what we've learned so far, it was designed to last for at least a million years."

"A million years!" Zamir shouted. "Why on earth would anyone make something that could store data for a million years?"

"Apparently the person who made it ... because this disk is thousands of years old." Amidst a chorus of disbelieving shouts, Daniel walked to the front of the room and handed the disk to Lev.

"Everyone calm down!" Zamir shouted.

Rotating the disk in his hands, Lev stared at his reflection in its shimmering surface. It was like looking at a jewel. "You'll have to pardon me if I seem a little skeptical, Daniel," Lev said, "but just how were you able to determine its age?"

"From the language, Professor. Surprisingly, that disk is compatible with modern computers, because we just downloaded data from it into one of our secure computers in the other room."

"Secure computers?" Zamir questioned.

"Yes, sir. They're not plugged into the internet and no one but us has access to them. Anyway, as I was saying, the language is very ancient, and the reason I know that is because it's the same language we discovered in the Devil's Bible."

By now the soldiers in the room were becoming visibly uncomfortable.

"The exact same language?" Lev asked.