THE CRIMSON DAGGER By Rick Jones © 2020 Rick Jones. All rights reserved. This is a property of EmpirePRESS & EmpireENTERTAINMENT, LLC The Vatican Knights is a TRADEMARK property ™ This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and should not be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. For more information e-mail all inquiries to: ALSO, BY RICK JONES: Vatican Knights Series The Vatican Knights Shepherd One The Iscariot Agenda Pandora's Ark The Bridge of Bones Crosses to Bear The Lost Cathedral Dark Advent Cabal The Golgotha Pursuit Targeted Killing Sinners and Saints The Barbed Crown The Devil’s Magician The Nocturnal Saints The Vatican Knightsseries continued: The Brimstone Diaries Juggernaut Original Sins (a prequel) In Between God and Devil The Sinai Directive The Barabbas Connection The Eye of Moses The Crimson Dagger The Goliath Chamber (coming) The Vladorian Keep (coming) The Eden Series The Crypts of Eden (A John Savage/Alyssa Moore Adventure) The Thrones of Eden (A John Savage/Alyssa Moore Adventure) City Beneath the Sea (A John Savage/Alyssa Moore Adventure) The Sacred Vault (A John Savage/Alyssa Moore Adventure) City Within the Clouds (A John Savage/Alyssa Moore Adventure) City Beneath the Ice (A John Savage/Alyssa Moore Adventure) With RICK CHESLER First Strike Standalone ADVENTURE: The Menagerie (A John Savage/Alyssa Moore Adventure) The Man Who Cast Two Shadows The Valley (Severed Press) Mausoleum 2069 (Severed Press and Luzifer-Verlag) The Hunter Trilogy: Night of the Hunter The Black Key Theater of Operation A BIG thank you to Adam Hanin and Michael Schubert, whose encouraging ideas led to this story. Contents Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-One Chapter Thirty-Two Chapter Thirty-Three Chapter Thirty-Four Chapter Thirty-Five Chapter Thirty-Six Chapter Thirty-Seven Chapter Thirty-Eight Chapter Thirty-Nine Chapter Forty Chapter Forty-One Chapter Forty-Two Chapter Forty-Three Chapter Forty-Four Chapter Forty-Five Chapter Forty-Six Chapter Forty-Seven Chapter Forty-Eight Chapter Forty-Nine Chapter Fifty Chapter Fifty-One Chapter Fifty-Two Chapter Fifty-Three Chapter Fifty-Four Chapter Fifty-Five Chapter Fifty-Six Chapter Fifty-Seven Chapter Fifty-Eight Chapter Fifty-Nine Chapter Sixty Chapter Sixty-One Chapter Sixty-Two Chapter Sixty-Three Chapter Sixty-Four Chapter Sixty-Five Chapter Sixty-Six Chapter Sixty-Seven Chapter Sixty-Eight Chapter Sixty-Nine Chapter Seventy Epilogue PROLOGUE Judea, Roman Empire 33 A.D. Moments after the man from Jerusalem shed his final breath, darkness descended over Judea while celestial staircases of lightning dotted the landscape with unremitting strikes. The edge of a leading wind quickly swept in, a considerable gale, which caused the heavy rain to take on a lateral course. Boughs from olive trees that were once stout snapped like dry timber, the winds too commanding, too powerful. And through it all, a Roman centurion by the name of Longinus stood rapt with his spear firmly in his grasp as he stared into the vacant eyes of a man named Jesus. “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.” These were the final words of the man who was nailed high upon a cross as He looked heavenward, with these words reaching the centurion’s heart. It was an epiphany and a spiritual awakening that began to draw Longinus from the roots of his Roman gods and towards monotheism. As Longinus stared into the half-mast eyes of Jesus that showed slivers of white, he knew that this man had taken upon His shoulders the sins of the world. The driving rain was simply a baptism and a new beginning for mankind. “Centurion, run your spear through!” This came from Longinus’s commander who wore the lorica muscle armor and crested helmet. With the rain, the metal plates appeared slick and wet and shined with a golden polish to them. Longinus, however, in response, could only present his commander with a pinched and hesitative look. Then above the howl of the gale, he cried, “Truly this man was the Son of God!” “He speaks the tongue of a false prophet! And there is no other god who stands before the gods of Rome!” The commander swung his hand through the air with authority. “Now, run your spear through!” Longinus looked at the face of Jesus that was kind and gentle and tremendously sad. “Centurion!” Looking at the point of his spear that resembled a dagger, Longinus raised the tip, balanced it between two ribs, then plunged the point deep to create the ‘fifth’ holy wound. A booming clap of thunder sounded off in critical judgment as the earth trembled beneath their feet. As Longinus extracted the point of the spear from the body, blackened clouds scudded across the sky with racing madness, a surreal visual. And lightning surged with broad strokes in swordplay as the strikes ruined trees by dividing their trunks and creating fires that fully engulfed the boughs, only for the rain to do little to extinguish the flames. Longinus looked at the tip of the spear with wonder. The blade glistened with the blood of Christ, a crimson hue. Yet the daggerlike tip would not be cleansed by the rain as His blood adhered to the spear’s tip like a fixed stain. Raindrops continued to bead on the spearhead, only for the drops to fall as though repelled by the dagger, which remained tarnished with a crimson coating. “The blood,” Longinus commented, as he showed the spear’s tip to his commander. “It does not wash from my spear.” The Roman commander quickly crossed the gap between them and grabbed the spear just below the point where the spearhead connects with the shaft. Raindrops beaded, then appeared to boil on the spearhead before falling to the ground, the blade remaining unclean. The commander released the shaft and fell back as lightning continued its volley of staccato flashes, while thunderclaps reached a crescendo of disharmony. The commander appeared frightened and perplexed as he appraised Jesus, a man who was more than just a man. Longinus, however, felt an indescribable peace. “He truly is the Son of God,” he remarked softly, as he held the tip of the spear high. In the flashes of lightning, the point continued to show off an oily hue, perhaps a lasting pigment. As the Roman centurion held the shaft high with its point directed heavenward, and as the blood of Jesus ran from his personal wounds to flow with the rivulets at the cross’s base,
