You can’t choose your family.”
The beautiful woman looked Dennis straight in the eye.
“It must be terrible love. Having a father like that.”
Katja smiled at him, ignoring his remark.
“That’s very funny Mr Dennis. Very funny indeed. Always the comedian aren’t you. And speaking of friends who have you brought along with you?”
“I am captain John Mackintosh of the british SAS. These are my men. Count Otto Brest Von Werner you are under arrest. You are returning to the UK to stand trial….”
Von Werner held up a hand to cut him off.
“Really Captain. I doubt that very much. However I may have a use for you. I can’t say the same for your men though.”
Von Werner made a gesture at Tosh’s men. Petrov moved to them with a silenced handgun. Their deaths were quick and painless. Tosh kept his cold stare on Von Werner.
“You murdering bastard.”
“And how many men have you murdered in your lifetime Captain?”
“That’s different.”
“Is it? Because you do it for queen and country. You know you and I are very much alike.”
“I am nothing like you.”
Dennis had had enough.
“If you’re going to kill us why don’t you do us a favour and save us the bullshit and get on with it.”
“Kill you Mr Dennis! Oh lord no! What would I do without you? You are the thorn in my side. You have thwarted all my plans. By the way you owe me for twenty five containers and their contents.”
Dennis patted his pockets.
“Sorry. Must have left my wallet at home.”
“Very funny Mr Dennis,” Von Werner held his hand out, “But I will have my grandfathers journal back.”
Dennis reached into the back pocket of his jeans and took it out and lobbed it to Von Werner who caught it one handed. The sound of an approaching helicopter filled the cavern.
“Thank you. And now if you are all ready….”
Katja opened the briefcase she was holding and Von Werner reached in and took something out wrapped in the Nazi flag. He unrolled it and held up the ‘spear of destiny’
“….It’s time for a miracle.”
Hutchinson watched the Nazi flag that Von werner had dropped as it settled on the ground. Von Werner now picked up the spear shaft he’d been given at Rafah.
“There won’t be a miracle,” Hutchinson suddenly said, catching the German Count off guard.
“What?”
“There won’t be a miracle here today. Once again my dear Count you have got it wrong. This is not and never was the tomb of Jesus Christ.”
“Of course it is.”
Dennis now shook his head.
“We have read your grandfather’s journal. He makes no reference of it.”
“Ah my grandfather’s journal. Yes in all the excitement I must admit I forgot to look in it. But no matter. He wasn’t always correct. Now if you’ll excuse me. I have healing to be done.”
Von Werner placed the spear head onto the shaft and pulled it down until he felt it connect fully. Then he pushed the two metal pins into place and they locked. He laid the spear down gently on top of the sarcophagus. Then he undid and removed his trademark white jacket. Next he rolled up the sleeves of his dark blue shirt revealing the extent of his burns. Katja handed him a small vial and he took it from her.
“From the church of Santa Croce,“ he offered to his audience, “You remember it don‘t you.”
No one answered him.
“This small vial has not been opened in two thousand years. It is Christ’s blood.”
He unstoppered the tiny glass bottle and raised his hands to the hole in the ceiling of the cavern.
“Lord Jesus Christ,” his voice boomed over the steadily growing noise from the helicopter approaching above, “Yours was the power and glory to give forever and ever. Amen.”
He tipped the vial up and allowed the contents to drip out and splash the spear head. Hutchinson, Dennis and Natalie watched on in morbid fascination. At first nothing happened then the spear appeared to change colour. The gold remained but the base metal took on a bluish tinge. Then small sparks began to dance over the head. They grew bigger and stronger. Von Werner reached down and took the spear head in his hand. The blue sparks got stronger still and began to lick at his flesh. They grew steadily over his fingers and began moving up his hand and now up his forearm. They became almost white in colour with their intensity and now Von Werner threw his head back and opened his mouth and roared with pain. Petrov rushed forward