The Templar's Relic E-Book

J. Robert Kennedy

• Herausgeber: J. Robert Kennedy
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2012

Beschreibung

"A little bit of Jack Bauer and Indiana Jones!"USA TODAY and BARNES & NOBLE #1 BESTSELLING AUTHOR • “A MASTER STORYTELLER” • OVER 800,000 BOOKS SOLD • OVER 3,000 FIVE STAR REVIEWSA USA Today Bestseller and #1 Bestselling Action Adventure novel on Amazon, Apple, Barnes & Noble and Kobo!If you enjoy action-packed thrillers, then don’t miss The Templar's Relic, an international bestseller from J. Robert Kennedy, “a master storyteller” (Betty Richard) and “one of the best writers today” (Johnny Olsen).THE CHURCH HELPED DESTROY THE TEMPLARS.WILL A TWIST OF FATE LET THEM GET THEIR REVENGE 700 YEARS LATER?A construction accident leads to a miraculous discovery--an ancient tomb containing four Templar Knights, long forgotten, on the grounds of the Vatican. Not knowing who they can trust, the Vatican requests Professors James Acton and Laura Palmer examine the find, but what they discover a precious Islamic relic, lost during the Crusades, triggers a set of events that shake the entire world, pitting the two greatest religions against each other.Join Professors James Acton and Laura Palmer, Interpol Agent Hugh Reading, Scotland Yard DI Martin Chaney, and the Delta Force's Bravo Team, as they race against time to defuse a worldwide crisis that could quickly devolve into all-out war.At risk is nothing less than the Vatican itself, and the rock upon which it was built.From USA Today bestselling author J. Robert Kennedy comes The Templar's Relic, the fourth entry in the smash hit James Acton Thrillers series, where once again Kennedy takes history and twists it to his own ends, resulting in a heart pounding thrill ride filled with action, suspense, humor and heartbreak.About the James Acton Thrillers:"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."The James Acton Thrillers series and its spin-offs, the Special Agent Dylan Kane Thrillers and the Delta Force Unleashed Thrillers, have over 3000 Five-Star reviews and have sold over 800,000 copies. If you love non-stop action and intrigue with a healthy dose of humor, try James Acton today!"James Acton: A little bit of Jack Bauer and Indiana Jones!"Available James Acton Thrillers:The Protocol, Brass Monkey, Broken Dove, The Templar's Relic, Flags of Sin, The Arab Fall, The Circle of Eight, The Venice Code, Pompeii's Ghosts, Amazon Burning, The Riddle, Blood Relics, Sins of the Titanic, Saint Peter's Soldiers, The Thirteenth Legion, Raging Sun, Wages of Sin, Wrath of the Gods, The Templar's Revenge

Leseprobe

The Templar's Relic

A James Acton Thriller

by

J. Robert Kennedy

USA Today Bestseller

#1 Barnes & Noble Overall Bestseller

#1 Bestselling Action Adventure on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Apple, and Kobo

From the Back Cover

FROM USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR J. ROBERT KENNEDY

THE CHURCH HELPED DESTROY THE TEMPLARS.

WILL A TWIST OF FATE LET THEM GET THEIR REVENGE 700 YEARS LATER?

A construction accident leads to a miraculous discovery—an ancient tomb containing four Templar Knights, long forgotten, on the grounds of the Vatican. Not knowing who they can trust, the Vatican requests Professors James Acton and Laura Palmer examine the find, but what they discover, a precious Islamic relic, lost during the Crusades, triggers a set of events that shake the entire world, pitting the two greatest religions against each other.

Join Professors James Acton and Laura Palmer, INTERPOL Agent Hugh Reading, Scotland Yard DI Martin Chaney, and the Delta Force Bravo Team as they race against time to defuse a worldwide crisis that could quickly devolve into all-out war.

At risk is nothing less than the Vatican itself, and the rock upon which it was built.

From USA Today bestselling author J. Robert Kennedy comes The Templar’s Relic, the fourth entry in the smash hit James Acton Thrillers series, where once again Kennedy takes history and twists it to his own ends, resulting in a heart pounding thrill ride filled with action, suspense, humor and heartbreak.

About the James Acton Thrillers

"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.

About J. Robert Kennedy

With over 800,000 books sold and over 3000 five-star reviews, 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 thirty international bestsellers including the smash hit James Acton Thrillers. He lives with his wife and daughter and writes full-time.

"A master storyteller." — Betty Richard

"A writer who tells what we are thinking but sometimes afraid to say." — Bruce Ford

"Kennedy kicks ass in this genre." — David Mavity

"One of the best writers today." — Johnny Olsen

"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.

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Books by J. Robert Kennedy

The James Acton Thrillers

The Protocol Brass Monkey Broken Dove The Templar's Relic Flags of Sin The Arab Fall The Circle of Eight The Venice Code Pompeii's Ghosts Amazon Burning The Riddle Blood Relics Sins of the Titanic Saint Peter's Soldiers The Thirteenth Legion Raging Sun Wages of Sin Wrath of the Gods The Templar's Revenge

The Special Agent Dylan Kane Thrillers

Rogue Operator Containment Failure Cold Warriors Death to America Black Widow The Agenda Retribution

The Delta Force Unleashed Thrillers

Payback

Table of Contents

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Table of Contents

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Acknowledgements

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About the Author

Also by the Author

“And when the sacred months have passed, then kill the polytheists wherever you find them and capture them and besiege them and sit in wait for them at every place of ambush. But if they should repent, establish prayer, and give zakah, let them [go] on their way. Indeed, Allah is Forgiving and Merciful.”

Koran 9:5

“The Jews say, “Ezra is the son of Allah”; and the Christians say, “The Messiah is the son of Allah.” That is their statement from their mouths; they imitate the saying of those who disbelieved [before them]. May Allah destroy them; how are they deluded?”

1

Port of Acre, Dominion of Saladin July 12, 1191

“We are defeated.”

Malik nodded, his chest aching with the shame of it. It was a statement nobody could dispute. The infidel hordes had broken through the gates about an hour ago and continued to pour in, despite the valiant effort put up by the starving defenders. Malik had tended to the wounded, stacked and burned the dead, and distributed the rations to the hungry civilians. He had done it all. And it was all in vain.

Why had this happened?

If they had surrendered at the start, when it was obvious there was no way to win, this all could have been avoided.

Pride.

It was pride that made the elders decide to fight, to weather the siege.

And for what?

It was over.

The last stand of Acre was over. Tens of thousands were dead. The rest were dying. And after holding out so long, could they expect any restraint from the angry Christian soldiers now pouring through the once mighty gates?

We’re all doomed.

Malik looked at Ali, his Imam since he was a little boy. “What are we to do, Imam Ali?”

“Besides pray to Allah?”

Allah hadn’t come through so far, so why continue?

“Yes, sir, besides pray.”

“Nothing.”

Malik opened his mouth to object when Imam Ali held a boney finger up to stop him.

“We shall do nothing, as I am too old.” He put his arm over Malik’s shoulder, guiding him deeper into the mosque. “But you, you are young and still fit. You shall take our holiest of possessions and save it from the infidels.”

Malik’s heart pounded. He stumbled, Ali catching him.

“Are you all right, my son?”

Malik nodded. “Yes, Imam, just overwhelmed with the—” Malik wasn’t sure what to say. Honor? Responsibility? Death warrant? “Honor.”

Imam Ali smiled.

I guess I chose the right word.

Though he wasn’t sure he wanted the honor. Right now, after almost two years of constant battle, he simply wanted to sit in a corner somewhere and wait for the blade of a Christian knight to end his suffering. The last thing he wanted was the responsibility of saving the parchment. “But how, Imam? How can I save it?”

“You shall be provisioned for two weeks of travel, disguised as a poor laborer”—he stopped and looked at Malik—“which shouldn’t be a problem,” he said, smiling. Malik was about to open his mouth to protest some more, when the aged Imam spoke again. “You will be sent out of the city by way of the ancient tunnels.”

Malik stopped.

Ancient tunnels?

“What ancient tunnels?”

“Tunnels carved long ago by Allah’s will and the labor of his devotees. They lead out, past the city walls, and under the camps of the infidels. When you reach the end, head south to Jaffa and seek the Imam there.”

Tunnels? Under the city?

Suddenly he felt like he might make it. Yet a question begged to be asked. “If there are tunnels, Imam, why haven’t we used them to save our people?”

Imam Ali patted the young man on the top of his head. “You are a good boy. Allah would be pleased. If we evacuated our population through these tunnels, there would be so many spread across the desert, that the infidels would surely capture some, then find the source and enter our city that much sooner.” He paused and sighed, his eyes peering into the distance. “Why Saladin hasn’t come this time, we’ll never know. We had held out hope that he would save us, but he hasn’t.” He glanced back at Malik, a sad smile on his face. “We were foolish. We thought Allah would protect us from the infidel hordes, but Allah obviously had other plans for his children. If only the great Prophet Mohammed, peace be upon him, were here. Such a warrior! He, he would have found a way to save us and push the infidels back into the sea. Especially that deviant Richard the Lionheart.” Ali spat on the ground, as did Malik. It was just something that was done.

“When do I leave?”

Shouting erupted from the street, the strange tongue of the infidel echoing off the ancient walls. Imam Ali grabbed Malik by his robes and hurried him into the sacred chamber containing the ancient scroll so revered. He lifted it off its pedestal and carefully rolled it, placing it into a tube-shaped case sitting under the display. Giving the case a hug while staring up to the heavens, Imam Ali handed it over to his young student. “Come, we must hurry!”

The shouts from outside sounded closer. Screams of the defenders violated the stillness of the mosque as they were slaughtered, their weakened state no match for the well-fed Christian army. Imam Ali pulled Malik toward the entrance to the cellars, grabbing a torch off the wall. Malik had enough presence of mind to do the same.

They wound their way down a spiral staircase and eventually emerged into a room filled with scrolls and artifacts collected over the years by the Imam, who considered himself a scholar, and indeed was renowned throughout the region, taking great pride in his collection and his writings. This was their history. This was their knowledge. And today, it could all be lost.

Imam Ali stopped at a desk, grabbed a piece of parchment and a quilled pen, then began writing rapidly. When done, he carefully folded the page and placed his seal upon it. He handed it to Malik. “Keep this with you. Should you be faced with a situation where you think a word or two from me might help, break the seal and let them read it. If not, when you reach Jaffa, show it to the Imam.”

Malik nodded, tucking the letter away inside his robes.

The sound of the outer doors to the mosque crashing open echoed down the staircase, startling both of them.

“Come, quickly!” hissed Imam Ali. “There’s no more time!”

He rushed over to the far wall and pushed aside a tapestry that appeared from the dust to not have been moved in years. Malik bent over and looked under the old cloth, expecting to find a hidden door, but instead found his Imam saying a prayer.

In front of a wall.

A wall no different than any other wall in the room. Imam Ali finished his prayer and placed his right hand on a stone, a stone that appeared like all the others in every way. Then he placed his left hand on another stone. Malik wasn’t sure what was going on.

Has the old man gone mad?

With a grunt, the elderly Imam pushed forward with both hands. Malik gasped as the two stones receded into the wall, sounds echoing from behind the stone betraying the presence of some mechanism activating. Moments later the sounds stopped and Imam Ali looked at Malik with a smile.

“Have faith in Allah.” He shoved against the wall, but nothing happened. “And help an old man.”

Malik nodded, placed his torch on the floor, then stepped forward, pushing with all his might on the stones his Imam toiled against.

And it moved. Slightly. But then, as they continued to push, it continued to recede and eventually a gap, large enough for a man, appeared between the wall and what was apparently a secret door.

Imam Ali shoved Malik through the gap, handing him a torch. “Now, push the door closed, then follow the tunnel to its end. It will open facing south.” He handed Malik several bags. “Food. Water.” He touched Malik’s arm. “Allah be with you.”

Malik nodded, stepping back into the darkness. He pulled the torch through, revealing the narrow tunnel.

“Now push!” ordered the Imam.

Malik leaned his back against the wall and pushed with all his might, the ancient doorway slowly closing, then with a final click, he heard the mechanism activate, sealing it in place.

The Imam’s voice was muffled though clear enough. “Go!”

Malik didn’t need to be told twice. He turned, eyeing the tunnel ahead of him, and stepped forward into what, he did not know.

2

Northern Wall, Vatican City Present Day

Ermes Sabatino looked up as one of the men yelled for an excavator to stop. “What now?”

It was like this job was cursed. This had been going on for almost three months. They were replacing an ancient storm drain and sewer line that ran on the Vatican grounds with a more modern one, but since day one there had been problems. Because it tapped into the Rome lines, permits were needed. These were constantly delayed or lost. There were extra inspections, environmental assessments, and any other myriad of delays thrown in his face. This should have been a three-month job, yet they were already at the three-month mark and excavation had only begun two weeks ago. And equipment kept malfunctioning, some of it sabotaged.

It was as if someone was trying to stop the job.

But why?

It’s only a damned sewer!

He stopped and looked at where he was, then made the sign of the cross. The mighty machine turned off.

Okay, this might be bad.

 Had they hit a gas line? He peered through the window of his trailer and there was no indication of panic. If anything, he’d call it excitement. He grabbed his hard hat and shoved it on his head as he stepped from the air-conditioned cool and out into the midday heat. Jogging over to the gathering crowd, he pushed his way through, and when he reached the site, he gasped. The teeth of the excavator had broken through the ground, revealing a chamber underneath.

He felt the ground shift under him. “Everybody get back!” he yelled. “This ground may not be stable.”

He began to step back when he felt the ground give way and he plunged into the depths below. Several others cried out as they fell along with him. His arms flailed, searching for anything to grab onto, and found nothing but empty space. Then he hit. Hard. His head snapped back but the helmet did its job, absorbing the blow. He looked about and couldn’t see anything, just darkness around him and a light above, blocked by dust.

“Are you okay?” yelled a voice from overhead.

He wasn’t sure. He sat up. Nothing felt broken. “I’m okay!” He looked about though couldn’t make out anyone else. “Who else is here? Are you okay?”

“It’s Luca. I think I broke my leg.”

“Filippo. I’m okay.”

A flashlight snapped on. It was Filippo.

“How many are missing?” he called up.

“Three of you fell in!”

“Okay, we have one injured man down here. Call for an ambulance and the fire department. We’re going to need some special equipment to get us out of here.”

“I’m on it!”

Sabatino looked around. “And send some flashlights down here.”

He heard the sounds of several plastic flashlights smashing nearby.

“In a bucket on a rope, you idiots!”

“Sorry, boss!”

“Let me see that,” he said to Filippo, putting his hand out for the flashlight. Filippo handed it over and Sabatino played the beam around the area. It was ancient, filled with dust and cobwebs. Several large stone boxes occupied the room. He stepped over to one, searching for the word, trying to remember what it was called.

Then he shivered.

Sarcophagus!

3

Outside Acre, Dominion of Saladin 1191 A.D.

Malik squinted at the sun.

Late afternoon.

The exit, or entrance, depending on which way you were traveling, was not well marked, which was clearly by design. Buried behind a myriad of rocks, exiting had involved shoving aside what turned out to be a fairly heavy hollowed out rock. When Malik had emerged from the hole and replaced the rock, he was amazed at the simplicity of it all. The stone looked like any other. Though hollowed, it was substantial enough that a single man would still struggle to move it.