Saint Peter's Soldiers (A James Acton Thriller, Book #14)

FROM USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR J. ROBERT KENNEDY

A MISSING DA VINCI.

A TERRIFYING GENETIC BREAKTHROUGH.

A PAST AND FUTURE ABOUT TO COLLIDE!

USA Today bestselling author J. Robert Kennedy delivers another torn from the headlines thriller in Saint Peter’s Soldiers.

In World War Two a fabled da Vinci drawing is hidden from the Nazis, those involved fearing Hitler may attempt to steal it for its purported magical powers.

It isn’t returned for over fifty years.

This is fact.

And today, archeology Professor James Acton and his wife are about to be dragged into the terrible truth of what happened so many years ago, for the truth is never what it seems, and the history we thought was fact, is all lies.

Spanning seven decades, J. Robert Kennedy’s Saint Peter’s Soldiers is an action-packed adventure taking readers on an adrenaline-fueled thrill-ride across Italy and her troubled history. Deftly crafted in true Kennedy style, this fast-paced stunner is jam-packed with action, intrigue and laughter, as only he can deliver.

"James Acton: A little bit of Jack Bauer and Indiana Jones!"

Though this book is part of the James Acton Thrillers series, it is written as a standalone novel and can be enjoyed without having read any
of the previous installments.

USA Today bestselling author J. Robert Kennedy has been ranked by Amazon as the #1 Bestselling Action Adventure
novelist based upon combined sales. He is the author of over twenty international bestsellers including the smash hit James Acton Thrillers series of which the first
installment,
The Protocol
, has been on the bestseller lists since its release, including occupying the number one spot for three months.
He lives with his wife and daughter and writes full-time.

"If you want fast and furious, if you can cope with a high body count,
most of all if you like to be hugely entertained, then you can't do much better than J Robert Kennedy."

Amazon Vine Voice Reviewer

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Find out more at
www.jrobertkennedy.com
.

In memory of Syrian archeologist Khaled al-Asaad, beheaded while protecting the archeological sites and antiquities to which he had dedicated his entire life.

“In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.”

King James Version, Genesis 3:19

On April 11
^th
, 2015, in the scientific journal Protein
and Cell, a paper was published by Chinese scientists entitled “CRISPR/Cas9-Mediated
Gene Editing in Human Tripronuclear Zygotes”. The title is meaningless to most,
but for those who understood its contents, it sent a chill through the entire
community.

For the
Chinese had broken the germ line, succeeding in manipulating DNA to change the human
genome. This is not the act of fixing a genetic defect; this is changing what
it means to be human.

Science
fiction has become science fact.

There is
a very good reason this research is illegal in most of the civilized world.

And this
book describes one of those terrifying reasons.

Sapienza University, Rome, Italy
Present Day

“You realize how much this is worth? It’s priceless!”

Inspector
General Mario Giasson of the Corps of Gendarmerie of Vatican City State looked
from Father Rinaldi to the archeologist the exclamation had been directed to. Professor
James Acton stood back, his arms crossed, finger tapping on his elbow as he eagerly
awaited his chance to peer through the microscope. His wife, Professor Laura
Palmer, had just announced the unbelievable. The red chalk drawing, a
self-portrait of Leonardo da Vinci himself, shown on a large screen in Sapienza
University’s art restoration department, was genuine.

Yet it
couldn’t be.

Or at
least it shouldn’t be.

What was
thought to be the real drawing had been on display since 1998 at the Royal
Library in Turin, Italy. Yet clearly there was more to the story than he and
the world had been made aware.

Professor
Acton glanced over at Father Rinaldi, who had begun pacing, continuing to
mutter. “If this falls into the wrong hands, it could be worth millions,
perhaps tens of millions. Especially if someone believes the legend.”

Giasson turned
toward Father Rinaldi. “What legend?”

“That if
one stares into the eyes of the portrait, one is imbued with great power.”

Giasson
dismissed the comment with a flick of his wrist. “Ridiculous.”

Their friend
and Interpol Agent, Hugh Reading, snorted. “I find it impossible to accept that
people would believe in such nonsense.”

Acton
stepped up to the scope as his wife finally relinquished her place, taking in
the magnified view. Yes, it was shown on a separate monitor for everyone to
see, but there was something special about looking through the lenses,
manipulating things yourself. Giasson felt himself itching for his own chance.

A
real da Vinci! Lost until yesterday!

And four
people were already dead because of it.

Shouts
on the other side of the door had Acton standing upright as they all spun
toward the sound. Gunfire suddenly erupted and Giasson stepped toward the doors
as Acton reached out, guiding his wife behind him. Reading moved from his position
near the window to stand shoulder to shoulder with Giasson just as the doors
burst open.

Giasson breathed
a sigh of relief as he recognized the two Italian State Police officers entering
the room. There were half a dozen outside, the value of the portrait, should it
be genuine, demanding a protection detail. His sigh however turned to a gasp as
they raised their weapons at them.

Footsteps
clicked on the tile floor of the hallway, Giasson only getting a glimpse of
several bodies past the doors, the police blocking most of his view. A man
appeared in the doorway, tall, athletic, perhaps mid to late thirties, with
blonde hair and striking blue eyes that took in the room, coming to rest on the
display showing the portrait.

He
pointed at the genuine article and snapped his fingers, the two officers
rushing toward the table it was sitting on.

Giasson
stepped in their way, holding out his arms. “This is the property of the people
of Italy.”

The
blonde man stared at him for a moment, a slight smile suggested at the corners
of his mouth before he pulled a weapon from a shoulder holster and fired,
Giasson spinning away, crumpling to the floor with a cry.

“You are
mistaken. It is the property of the Führer.”

Casa del Conte Verde, Rivoli, Italy
July 4
^th
, 1941

“But the Nazi’s are on their way!”

Vincenzo
Donati frowned at his young apprentice’s outburst. He continued to stare
through his magnifying glass at the rare 45 centesimi Lombardy stamp from 1850,
a rare find if there ever was one. He never tired of gazing at it. It was a
piece of history, and history was his business.

And with
the war,
protecting
history was now his primary business.

The
Nazi’s were looting galleries across Europe, the only thing protecting his the
fact Italy had aligned itself with Hitler and his armies. Though how long that
would last was anyone’s guess. Hitler had just broken his agreement with the
Soviet Union. Could Italy be that far behind?

Plans
were already underway for protecting collections across the country, yet it was
a rumor that had reached his ears only this week that had him concerned. A
colleague in Rome had told him of a special group in the SS, the Schutzstaffel
or “protection squadron”, that was searching the globe for religious artifacts.
Anything that had ever had something magical or mystical attributed to it.

And his town
now housed such a relic.

A
self-portrait of Leonardo da Vinci in red chalk.

The
legend was completely unfounded, he himself having tried to duplicate the
claims unsuccessfully. But it was no matter. Once legend, rumor was nearly
impossible to dispel.

The
drawing had been stored at the Royal Library in Turin, its curator contacting
him two days ago after hearing the same rumor of the SS group, and a plan had
been set in motion, the drawing moved here, to his relatively insignificant
institution, in the hopes the Nazis would pass them by.

“Sir!”

Donati sighed,
putting down his magnifying glass and looking up at young Nicola. “I am fully
aware of what is happening. And plans are already underway to protect the
portrait.”

Nicola approached
Donati’s desk and dropped into a rickety chair older than him. “But shouldn’t
we move it now, tonight? Your contact said they could be here tomorrow morning!
If that’s true, we have no time to waste.”

“And we
aren’t wasting any—”

“But
you’re staring at stamps!” He leapt back to his feet, pacing the small room,
the oil lamps casting dancing shadows on the stone walls, the fire in the
corner barely taking the chill out of the cool night.

“I find
it calms me and allows me to think clearly. You might try something similar.”

Nicola
spun, about to say something, then stopped. He took a deep breath and returned
to his chair. “Sir, with all due respect, if there is even a remote chance that
the legend is true surrounding the portrait, it mustn’t fall into Hitler’s
hands. If it does, his armies could become unstoppable.”