The assault transport skimmed over the city of Rome, made a brief touch-and-go, then set off again toward the Alban Hills southeast of the city. The Italian Air Force, which should have detected the Undying City's assault transport in time, made no move—partly because the Undying City's electronic-warfare operations were highly effective, and partly because of the effect of cash. The transport had no need to worry about air-defense radar tracking its flight path.
Although Solomon Damonet had worked in Rome's underground city for a long time, he had never visited Lake Albano to enjoy the scenery. So, as the transport was about to pass over Lake Albano, he specifically asked the pilot to slow down and drop altitude. He opened the ramp door and, accompanied by Hammurabi, stood at the hatch to look down over the volcanic lake, which covered only 5 square kilometers.
"To be honest, it's a bit different from the photos in the travel guides." Solomon shook his head, a little embarrassed at himself. The water's surface drew nearer and nearer, and the aircraft's wash began to ruffle the lake, so Solomon ordered the pilot to climb again to avoid drawing the attention of the people living in the town of Castel Gandolfo on the Alban Hills.
The pilot received a radio transmission and, after verifying the other party's identity, was guided by the tower toward Castel Gandolfo and instructed to land at a designated site—a castle complex of roughly 70 hectares, far larger than Vatican City itself. The pilot, however, refused to park the transport in the lot used by tourists, deeming it an insult to the Sovereign. After consulting the Honor Guard at the Sovereign's side, he flew the transport straight into the gardens behind the Apostolic Palace at the highest point of Castel Gandolfo, took over the entire lawn, and brought all weapons systems online.
As expected, the huge assault transport was surrounded the moment it touched down. Members of the Swiss Guard—wearing dark blue service uniforms, black berets, and carrying HK MP5A3 submachine guns—rushed into the garden to encircle the craft. Their commanding officer, Christoph Graf, newly appointed by Francis, wore a longsword at his waist as a badge of rank.
This is one of the oldest military organizations in the world. All guardsmen are unmarried Swiss Catholic citizens, and one of their main duties is to protect the Pope, the College of Cardinals, and all buildings belonging to the Pontiff.
When the forward ramp slowly opened and the gold power-armored Honor Guard strode down, every soldier on the line, as if facing a mortal threat, slid a finger onto the trigger. Hammurabi cast them a contemptuous glance and maintained his posture—greatsword on the shoulder, shield in hand. The standoff lasted until another officer arrived: a Black man in the same commander's uniform, who reeked of wine. After a short, heated exchange with the tense Christoph Graf, he stepped past the cordon and approached the assault transport. He first inspected the ornate details of the Honor Guard's power armor up and down, then marched into the cabin. No one impeded him; it was as if Hammurabi hadn't even seen him and remained a golden metal statue by the ramp. "It's an invitation, not a hostile act. Are you planning to take out the Pope?" Father Moru said. "And you even brought a robot!"
"That's not a robot. That's my Honor Guard," Solomon said, switching on the cabin lights and addressing his old friend from above. He looked very pleased. "And I don't think the current Pope would be rattled by something this small. He was a guerrilla priest—he's dealt with more drug dealers than you've seen criminals. Father Moru, have you been draining all the wine here under the pretext of the Eucharist?"
"Just a little. The wine stocks are tightly managed—I have to go down to the town to buy more." Father Moru removed his beret; his scalp was beaded with large drops of sweat. Officially he was also a commander of the Swiss Guard, but in reality he was the chief of the Pope's security service. This fully armed assault transport had put him under serious pressure, and he still had to dispatch men to evacuate tourists and cordon off the garden. "Come with me, quickly. His Holiness is waiting for you."
This meeting had been arranged entirely by Father Moru; if anything happened to the Pope, the Vatican's true military head had only one path—death by his own hand.
"No. I'll wait for Francis in the garden. I think he'll prefer a conversation without interruptions," Solomon shook his head. "My Honor Guard will accompany me. He'll screen who comes along, and you'd best follow his instructions—and tell the Swiss Guard outside to calm down. I don't want violence, but if Hammurabi starts, there won't be any of your soldiers left alive. Oh, and—"
Solomon produced a finely bound book and handed it to Father Moru. Its edges were gilded, and on the cover, in gold-stamped letters, was the Latin edition of The Unified Truth.
"This is a gift for His Holiness. I know you want to pre-screen it. I'll remain here for three hours. Let him browse the book in advance so he can truly understand my thinking," he said. "Now bring me a bottle of wine. I'd like to see the Pope's taste in vintages."
"I can get you some bread," Father Moru sighed, motioning as he started out of the cabin. "Come along. The Pope is resting—he hasn't been well. And keep your people from tangling with the Swiss Guard boys. They're good men. Recruiting is getting harder and harder—if a few more die, there'll be no one left to apply."
The Unified Truth exists in many languages. Although the Undying City's primary tongue is Latin, it also distributes Spanish, English, Russian, and other versions. Wherever there are Undying City lecturers, there is a local-language edition of The Unified Truth. Even the militias in eastern Ukraine have Russian versions to read.
The Undying City's entry into contested zones is no secret. It is simply that wherever the Undying City goes, there is war and death; its intelligence services are fanatical about counterintelligence; and Western media pay little attention to war zones. As a result, few know the golden eagle flag of the Undying City exists at all. Only some national leaders and general staffs keep copies of The Unified Truth on their desks.
Even so, few can make out the true face of the organization preaching The Unified Truth.
As Victoria Hand's intelligence service dug deeper, NATO's decisions regarding Latovinia grew clearer, and the Undying City prepared for high-intensity war. One of Victor von Doom's mechanized infantry units had already moved into the northern regions of Latovinia to garrison—where Solomon and the Honor Guard were also stationed. Meanwhile, aboard the Heaven's Sword space station, a unit of "Electronic Sages" from the Martian Foundries formed a dedicated electronic-warfare division, and the Foundries brought along several prototype fighters designed for void combat.
Electronic warfare would open the conflict, paralyzing NATO military and nuclear facilities, and hacking Western social media to launch an information war. Void fighters would hunt down every satellite conducting reconnaissance over Latovinia—commercial and military alike. Then Solomon would penetrate Europe together with the Honor Guard, the Sisterhood, assassins, and the Undying City's regular army, leveraging blitzkrieg tactics and air superiority to plant that flag atop some iconic building.
The Undying City would not occupy any towns. This was not only to demonstrate strength, but to clear NATO bases around Latovinia. Once an internal NATO resolution to intervene in Latovinia passed, the whole of Europe would know what that flag stood for.
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