The Circle of Eight (36 page)

“Can anyone reach my hand?” he yelled. “I’m to your
left!”

A hand suddenly appeared directly above him, then the
face of Niner, the only man not involved in the rescue. Spock let go of Wings’
belt in a leap of faith, his hand darting up toward Niner’s outstretched arm.
He missed the catch, but Niner’s reflexes proved true and he felt a strong grip
wrap around his wrist. He let go of Wings and reached up, holding onto Niner’s
arm as he winced, his leg still probably in agony.

“Okay, let’s pull!” yelled Wings as the lighter load was
quickly yanked up the side of the cliff. Another set of hands quickly appeared
and Spock grabbed on with his left hand, and moments later he too was over
the lip, lying beside a gasping Niner, the rest of the team prone or sitting on
the ice cold pavement.

Gunfire up the road toward the village had them all
turning toward the sound.

“Now what?”

“It must be the professors,” said Dawson jumping to his
feet, grabbing Spock by the hand and helping him to his feet. Spock grabbed
Dawson by both shoulders.

“Thanks, BD.”

“Anytime. Next time I drive,” he said with a wink. Shots
rang out from the drive leading to the castle as several guards slid and
stumbled their way toward them. Spock grabbed his weapon and fired off several
rounds as did Dawson and Red. Their targets dropped. “Let’s blow this thing and
help the professors,” ordered Dawson.

Red pulled the detonator from a pouch and flipped the
guard up to reveal the switch.

“Fire in the hole!” he yelled, then flicked the switch.

There was a rumble as a series of explosions ripped
around three sides of the massive structure. Flames blasted out the sides, dust
and debris showering the mountainside in every direction, little of it reaching
their position due to the front not having been rigged.

“That was kind of anticlimactic,” said Niner, now on his
feet. “I was expecting something bigger.”

Red shrugged his shoulders.

“They don’t build ’em like they used to.”

“Look!” yelled Jagger, pointing toward the castle as the
right side number four wall, barely visible from this angle, suddenly collapsed
down several feet, then fell outward, pancaking the vehicles parked along the
side. The rear wall followed, collapsing inward, triggering secondary
explosions, the rest of the structure teetering on the brink, then finally
giving in, the remaining walls collapsing inward, more explosions erupting as
the fuel that powered and heated the castle erupted along with what appeared to
be several weapons caches. The blast lit the night sky, a ball of fire and
black smoke lighting the side of the mountain for several seconds, then
collapsing back down as the remains continued to glow and pop as rounds of
ammunition succumbed to the heat.

“Is that better?” asked Red looking at Niner.

“Much. I’m a dying man, you know, if I’m going out, I
want it to be with a bang like that, not that whimper you initially delivered.”

“Dying eh?” muttered Red as he grabbed Niner by the arm
and draped it over his shoulder, Jimmy doing the same on the other side. “We
should be so lucky.”

“When my leg is back to a hundred percent, I’m kicking
your ass,” he said as they all began to climb the hill toward the village
ahead.

“I’ll pencil you in for around Valentine’s Day, but only
if you wear those pants.”

“I said
kick
your ass, not
kiss
your ass.”

“Ohhh, that makes more sense.”

Dawson turned.

“Let’s pick up the pace. You two stick with Niner, we’ll
go on ahead.”

Spock and the others began a tactical run up the hill,
prepping their gear as Niner’s wisecracks faded into the distance.

Hands grabbed at them, tore at their clothes, their hair, anything
they could grab. The guns seemed to have been forgotten, their intention either
now to tear them apart, or capture them for interrogation. Acton punched at the
one closest to him, catching the man on the nose, then pushed himself between
the seats into the back, draping himself over Laura and Reading as she
struggled with her own set of attackers.

Suddenly a terrific explosion ripped through the night
causing everyone to pause, even their attackers. Acton looked through the
window to see all eyes looking down the blocked road toward the castle.
The night sky flickered and flashed, then a massive fireball shot up into the
air, their attackers now completely withdrawn from the vehicle.

The explosion collapsed, the night sky dark once again,
but silence reigned. Then a voice sliced through the shock and awe of their
attackers, something yelled in German that Acton took a moment to translate.

They’re all dead!

And with those few words, the crowd slowly receded into
the darkness, the carts blocking the roads removed, the wounded carried away, leaving
an eerie silence almost as terrifying as the rage of the attack, the only
sounds the slamming of doors and shutters as a village, sustained by The Order
for centuries, mourned its passing, wondering what an uncertain future would
bring.

Pioneer Cemetery, Boise, Idaho

Three Days Later

The ceremony for Stucco and his family was moving, the gathering
large, the pomp and circumstance impressive. It was a worthy funeral, even if
the cause of death was a lie. Acton had shook his head in disbelief when he had
heard about the cover up. Even he was angry, and he barely knew Stucco. But
they were soldiers, their missions top secret, and this heinous, barbaric act
would remain a secret to all but those involved.

As they walked toward the cars, the Bravo Team along
with Acton and Laura congregated along the car lined street, Niner in crutches,
many of the others showing some wear and tear from their ordeal. But the unit
was back together, back on duty, and ready to serve. The sight of Niner had him
thinking of their friend Reading who had survived and was recovering quite
quickly. Acton had spoken to him this morning and he seemed in good spirits.

“Do you think it’s over?” asked Acton to the group in
general.

Dawson shrugged.

“We know one of The Circle survived. Let’s hope that’s
enough to stop them, or at least delay them.”

Acton frowned, not very confident.

“Stop, I doubt. Delay, possibly. But delay for how long,
and delay what? We still don’t know what their plan is.”

“And perhaps we never will.”

“Until it’s too late,” muttered Laura.

“Let’s hope you’re wrong, Professor, otherwise all of
this was for nothing.”

Unknown Location

Exactly one week after the Schloss Rosen attack

The last beep sounded, indicating the final member had connected to
the meeting. It was a somber event, but also an event of renewal, and Number One,
the new Number One, welcomed those logged in.

“Welcome apprentices,” he said, deepening his younger
voice, those gathered having no idea who he was, or how he normally sounded. He
needed to command the respect of the others, especially with so many deaths.
They would learn to respect him in time, as he himself earned their respect,
but for now, an iron grip must be maintained.

“I am now Number One. The Circle is complete, The Order
continues, undeterred. Those who would try to take us down, have failed, as
have all others in the past, for The Order is eternal, and The Circle is
unbreakable. Rejoice now, apprentices, for today you are masters, masters in
the greatest organization to have ever existed.”

He sucked in a breath as he looked at the agenda in
front of him.

“Now to business.” He looked at each of the robed faces
on his screen. “Number Seven, please bring us up to date on the progress your late
master was able to make in our plan.”

A robed head lifted, revealing nothing but the chin of
the new master.

“Much progress has been made, the plans well laid.
Recent events will
not
impact rollout of the new strains to the Third World.
We anticipate adoption throughout the developing world within less than ten
years, at which point we can trigger the plan.”

“Excellent,” smiled Number One, content that it would be
he that would be in power to oversee The Order’s greatest triumph.

And he at the head of the new world order that would
prevail.

Costa Brava, Spain

Sophia dug at the sand with her red plastic shovel, certain she had
found some sort of buried pirate’s treasure. The box didn’t seem that big, but
she could only see one corner. She continued to dig, then abandoned the shovel,
scraping at the sand with just her fingers. Soon a second corner was revealed,
then a third. Within minutes she had enough of the treasure chest showing to
see, much to her disappointment, that it indeed was small.

But still big enough to hold plenty of gold that might
help her family. She knew they were poor, her daddy having lost his job, her
mommy as well, and all she ever wanted to do was help them.

This could be the key.

With a final effort she yanked it from the sand, then
brushed it off. It was a perfect square with strange symbols written all over
it, but no obvious way to gain access. She searched for an opening but couldn’t
find any.

Daddy will know how!

She jumped up and ran toward home, only a few minutes
from the beach. She found her daddy in his study. He looked up.

“What have you got there?”

She shrugged.

“Treasure chest?”

Her father smiled, getting up from his chair and taking
the curious box to the backyard, spraying it clean with the hose. He handed it
back to her after trying to find a way to open it with no success.

“Perhaps you will have better luck,” he said. “Now why
don’t you put that in your room, and perhaps someday you will solve the
puzzle.”

She hugged him then ran to her room, jumping onto her
bed as she began to struggle with the box, pulling at it, pushing at it, and
finally hitting it with everything she could think of.

And nothing happened.

After fifteen minutes of failure she lost interest and
tossed the cube in her box of toys in the closet, running back to the beach to
see if she could find some seashells to glue to her find.

THE END

The
inspiration for this book came from a buddy of mine, the “real” Chris Leroux,
who sent me a link to an article on the Georgia Guidestones. After reading
about these, I became fascinated about who could be responsible and stumbled
upon the Rosicrucians. I had heard of them before, but knew nothing of them.
Researching them, then creating a history of their continued existence was a
blast.

Thanks
to Ian Kennedy for his invaluable assistance with regards to explosives and
triggers. Thanks of course to my main researcher, my father, who once again has
outdone himself.

And one
final thing as a reminder to those who have not already done so. Please visit my
website at
www.jrobertkennedy.com
then sign up for the Insiders Club. You’ll get emails about new book releases,
new collections, sales, etc. Only an email or two a month tops, I promise!

And to my
wife, daughter, parents and friends, thank you once again for your support. And
to you the readers, thank you! You’ve all made this possible.

Thank you for choosing and reading my book.
If you enjoyed it, I would be grateful if you could write a review
and post it on Amazon or your favorite book site.

James Acton will return!

CIA Special Agent Dylan Kane returns in Cold Warriors, available soon!

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J. Robert Kennedy is the author of thirteen international best sellers, including
the smash hit James Acton Thrillers series, the first installment of which,
The Protocol
, has been on the best sellers list since its release, including
a three month run at number one. In addition to the other novels from this
series,
Brass Monkey, Broken Dove, The Templar’s Relic
(also a number
one best seller),
Flags of Sin
and
Circle of Eight
(also a number one best seller),
he has written the international best sellers
Rogue Operator, Containment Failure, Depraved Difference,
Tick Tock, The Redeemer
and
The Turned
. Robert spends his time in Ontario,
Canada with his family.

Visit or subscribe to Robert's website at
www.jrobertkennedy.com
to be notified of new book releases.

For two thousand years the Triarii have protected us, influencing history
from the crusades to the discovery of America. Descendent from the Roman Empire,
they pervade every level of society, and are now in a race with our own government
to retrieve an ancient artifact thought to have been lost forever.