Holy Shroud by J. A. Bouma

Author:J. A. Bouma [Bouma, J. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: EmmausWay Media Group, LLC

CHAPTER 23

Pop. Pop. Pop.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

Bullets from automatic rifles ricocheted off the masonry work near the main entrance, sending fragments of stone and dust to the ground, and bringing down a gold chandelier into shattering pieces.

Women screamed. Parents cried out the names of their children. The panicked crowd surged forward toward safer ground as the phantoms violated the sacredness of a space that had stewarded the spirituality of countless generations.

“Come on,” Celeste said. “You take the right. I’ll take them on the left. We need to open up a window to get these people out of the north and south portals.”

“Commander Richter,” Silas said into his wrist mic. “We’ve got a live confrontation in here with hostiles who are presumed to be Nous operatives.”

Nothing but static.

“Commander Richter? Celeste and I are engaging ten or twelve hostiles in the nave at present. Do you copy?”

Again, nothing.

Silas cursed as he rushed forward to a position just beyond the transept. “Celeste, can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear.”

“Then what the hell is going on outside? I’m getting nothing from Richter. And where is Gapinski?”

“Who knows, but we’ve got to push these hostiles back.”

Gunfire erupted again toward the main entrance. Bodies went down for cover. Some went down after being hit.

Silas fired his Beretta, aiming for a hostile positioned near the baptistry on his right toward the entrance. With a single pop, his head snapped back.

Dang it. He was aiming for his shoulder, wanting to maim not kill. The Army had trained him well, hammering and honing him into a killing machine. Yet that was not the way of the Church, especially not the way of Jesus.

Silas leaned against the pillar and crossed himself.

Lord, forgive me.

He looked back toward the kill. The body slumped over the font, blood mingling with the holy water. What a desecration.

One down, ten to go.

Another spat of gunfire erupted angrily toward Silas in response. He twisted around the column as pieces of it exploded behind him and fell to the floor.

“Celeste…”

“I’m with you.” She responded with her own set of rounds, using her SIG Sauer to disable another hostile, sending him to the ground and slinking out of sight.

A smattering of gunfire erupted from the rear of the cathedral, but it had changed in timbre and direction. It seemed lower in pitch than the hostile’s gunfire, and it wasn’t coming at Celeste and Silas, but was stampeding into the hostiles themselves.

Help was on the way!

A small group of the security apparatus stationed around Notre Dame had finally come to take control of the situation. They caught the hostiles flatfooted, sending three down quickly. Silas gave Celeste a thumbs-up signal. She raised her fist in acknowledgment and delight, then laid down covering fire. He did the same.

It turned out the security force was made up of two separate groups, of four or five. They were making their way in behind the Nous operatives through the Portail de Saint-Anne and Portail de la Vierge.

Why weren’t there more? Silas remembered counting at least six times that many.

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