At one end was a door without a handle. Vincent tiptoed towards it and inspected it. He then tried nudging it open but found that it was an armoured door that was firmly sealed shut. On the right side of the door was a numerical keypad that probably controlled access through the door. Just above the keypad was the reverse side of a single one-dollar bill, duly laminated. Vincent looked at it, confused, until it struck him! The back of the American one-dollar bill was an entirely Illuminati-sponsored image! He pulled out the crumpled copy of the document that he had discovered at the Rozabal shrine from his inside pocket.
You are my genie, revealing me; use these verses as a key. Vincent thought to himself. Could it be? Could it actually be used as a key? He had nothing to lose. Take my shekels in your hand, see the pyramid in the sand. See it better than the all-seeing eye, see it better than the bird up high. Count the steps up to the top, count the leaves and fruit in the crop.
Vincent looked at the one-dollar bill, the modern world’s shekel. There indeed was a pyramid. The pinnacle of the pyramid had a single ‘all-seeing’ eye. Next to it was the American bald eagle—the bird up high. Vincent began counting the steps on the pyramid. Thirteen. The eagle was holding two branches in its talons. One branch had leaves and the other had fruit. Vincent counted the leaves and the fruit. Thirteen each!
Count the arrows to put them in slumber, count your armour of equal number. And when they have fallen, riddled with scars, make sure that they count the number of stars. And when death knocks and destiny brings, shade and fan them with my wings. My plumes on both sides will protect, count them over to be correct.
Vincent looked more closely at the eagle’s talons. It was also holding arrows. Vincent counted them. Thirteen! The eagle also held an armoured shield. Vincent counted the armoured bars on the shield. Thirteen! Above the eagle was a cloud containing stars. By now, Vincent knew what to expect; nevertheless, he counted the stars. Surprise, surprise . . . thirteen! He then looked at the eagle’s wings. He carefully counted the plumes on each side, right and left. Thirteen each.
Count the language inside the beak. Count the language above the peak. Then count me and my apostles meek.
Vincent looked at the eagle’s beak. It was holding a banner that read ‘E Pluribus Unum’, meaning ‘Out of Many, Emerges One’. Thirteen letters. He then saw the Latin motto above the pyramid’s peak, ‘Annuit Coeptis’, meaning ‘God has favoured our undertaking’. Thirteen letters again.
Jesus and his twelve apostles. Thirteen.
Vincent hurriedly punched 13 into the numeric keypad and watched the door slide open silently.
The First Continental Congress had requested that Benjamin Franklin, along with a team, develop the Great Seal for the United States. It took them four years to accomplish this task and another two years to get it approved. The back of the United States’ one-dollar bill bears this seal that depicts a pyramid. Very few would notice that the pyramid on the bill was a Masonic symbol, a pyramid of 13 progressive levels. The number 13 was present not only in the 13 steps of the pyramid. There were 13 stars above the eagle, 13 bars on the shield, 13 leaves on the branch, 13 fruits, 13 arrows.205 Just like the army created by the Illuminati to terrorise the world. The Lashkar-e-Talatashar. Or the Army of Thirteen. The base of the pyramid had the year 1776 inscribed on it. The American public thought it was the year in which the American Declaration of Independence had been signed. Actually, it was the beginning of the final cycle of the Maya Long Count calendar. More important, it was the year in which Adam Weishaupt created the Illuminati. The base of the pyramid bore the motto ‘Novus Ordo Seclorum’ which, from Latin, translates to ‘New Order of the Ages’. Much like the objectives of the Illuminati. Creating a new world order and ruling it.
Talpiot, Israel, 1980
Had Vincent looked more closely at the one-dollar bill he would have noticed something else that was extremely important. The pyramid’s peak was a triangle with an all-seeing eye.
‘At about 11 in the morning of 28 March 1980, with the Christian season of Lent already a month old and almost over, first light entered a tomb, beneath the treads of a bulldozer. On this exceptionally beautiful Friday, the entire south face of the tomb’s antechamber fell away to reveal what looked for all the world like a doorway; carved above it was a symbol that none of the construction crew had ever seen before.’206
Inside the tomb, archaeologists found ten ossuaries, limestone boxes that had served as first-century coffins. Six had inscriptions, including ‘Jesus, son of Joseph’, two ‘Mary’s and ‘Judah, son of Jesus’.
Subsequent research would cast substantial doubt on the genuineness of the tomb as the final resting place of Jesus and his family. Many would say that Talpiot was a hoax perpetuated to embarrass the Church. Not too many people were worried that the symbol above the tomb looked much like the Illuminati symbol of the all-seeing eye within the peak of a pyramid depicted on the American one-dollar bill.
Chapter Thirty-One
Vatican City, 2012
Thomas Manning was in the corridors of the Ospedale Bambino Gesu, the hospital within the Vatican premises. His Eminence had been rushed to the hospital, but had been pro-nounced dead a few hours later. Manning had been pacing up and down the corridors for more than three hours. A kindly nurse, Sister Maria Esperanza, a beautiful young nun of mixed blood, brought the immensely fatigued man a cup of steaming hot espresso. Thomas did not know that Sister Maria Esperanza had a special recipe for espresso.
She would grind the best Lavazza beans, using a good burr grinder. She would then fill the double shot filter basket without pressing the ground coffee down. She would level off the loose ground coffee by sliding a straight finger across the top. Then she would expertly ‘tamp’ the coffee, using a solid handheld tamper and around thirty pounds of force. Having fitted the filter handle, she would extract the steaming hot espresso shot into the cup that already contained her special ingredient, a spoonful of 1080.
Compound 1080, or sodium monoflouroacetate, was a water-soluble chemical used primarily to kill coyotes. It was a colourless, odourless, tasteless poison. One teaspoon could kill up to a hundred adult humans. There was no antidote.207
Sister Maria Esperanza made the best coffee in town. The funny thing was that no one in the hospital knew her name. Brother Thomas Manning was unable to thank her for the coffee before he died.
Swakilki didn’t care. She slipped out of the nurse’s uniform, got back into her own clothes, mounted her Honda Spazio scooter, and headed over to Leonardo da Vinci Airport.
Islamabad, Pakistan, 2012
He was sitting inside the Aiwan-e-Sadr, the official residence of the President of Pakistan. The President was looking at the transcript of a phone conversation between the chief of Pakistan’s Inter-Services Intelligence and Stephen Elliot of the SAS.
‘Why is this man so important to them?’ he had wondered about Ghalib some nights earlier, as he sipped his evening scotch and soda. Now he knew.
His goddamned chief of intelligence and those American bastards wanted to justify their extended presence in Pakistan by ensuring that trouble continued to be stirred up by the likes of Osama and the Sheikh. Enough!
He decided that it was time to have a scotch and soda in the evening with the deputy director of the ISI.
The Directorate for Inter-Services Intelligence, known as the ISI, wielded immense power in Pakistan. The ISI was responsible for surveillance, interception and espionage, as well as the security of Pakistan’s nuclear programme. The ISI’s power had been consolidated in 1988 when the Pakistani military dictator, President Zia ul-Haq, had commenced Operation Tupac—an action plan for the control of Kashmir. The ISI had been responsible for creating and training at least six major militant organisations, with approximately between 5,000 and 10,000 armed men of Indian-Kashmiri origin, who would plague Indian authorities for the next few decades.208
The ISI chief ran his organisation ruthlessly. Under him, his deputy directo
r in charge of the political, external and general divisions had to be constantly on call. The ISI chief was a veteran. Under him, the ISI had played a pivotal role in the CIA-sponsored Mujahideen war to push the Soviets out of Afghanistan in the 1980s. The CIA had assigned the responsibility of training and money distribution to the ISI, which had trained about 83,000 Afghan Mujahideen and sent them off to Afghanistan to fight. The CIA had then decided to use the ISI to promote the smuggling of heroin into Afghanistan with a view to turning the resident Soviet troops into addicts. The ISI chief had executed the plan with his usual ruthless precision. He had even ensured the takeover of Afghanistan by the radical Islamic Taliban regime after the fall of the Soviet-backed government in Kabul in 1992. His rise had been partly due to the constant backing and support of an equally enthusiastic director of the CIA, the late President of the United States of America, Alissa Kaetzel Elliot. He had enjoyed an extremely cosy relationship with Stephen Elliot of the SAS too.
This particular ISI chief had to go. His deputy director was the man for the job.
The ISI chief was escorting Stephen Elliot and Zvi Yatom from the Pindh Ranjha International Airport to their suite at the luxurious Islamabad Serena Hotel in his Hummer. His boss, the Pakistani President, had been very specific about holding the meeting with the American and the Israeli here in Islamabad.
It was around 6 pm when the blast occurred. An improvised bomb containing TNT had been placed against the left underside of the vehicle, near the gasoline tank and the rear passenger seat. This ensured that the gas tank explosion would eliminate all the occupants. The trigger was via a pager.
The deputy director phoned the President to convey to him the tragic news regarding the death of the three men inside the Hummer.
Maryland, USA, 2012
Vincent had hurriedly punched 13 into the numeric keypad and watched as the door slid silently open. In front of him was a long tunnel. It had been built out of reinforced concrete on all sides. It was unpainted, but a single cable along the length of the roof supplied power to the hundreds of naked light bulbs that ran endlessly in a straight line.
Ignoring his fatigue, Vincent began jogging towards the end of the tunnel. It was tiring because the tunnel had an upward incline. After about half an hour, which seemed like an eternity, Vincent reached a solid whitewashed concrete wall with an equally white door.
On the white background was painted the German phrase: ‘Wer war der thor, wer weiser, bettler oder kaiser? Ob arm, ob reich, im tode gleich.’
Under it was an English equivalent: ‘Who is the fool? Who is the wise? Who is the beggar or king likewise. Wizened fools and beggars on thrones. All underneath are just skull and bones.’ It was the motto of the Bavarian Illuminati, established in 1776. The same year, 1776, was alluded to at the base of the pyramid on the American one-dollar note. The same year that marked the beginning of the final cycle of the Mayan calendar.
Next to the door was another numeric keypad. Above it was a small laminated sign that had the following words very neatly laser-printed: ‘Please enter your room number.’ Vincent didn’t need to do the calculation! He had always wondered what the significance of Room Number 322 of the Skull & Bones society was. Vincent quickly punched in 3-2-2. It was his lucky day. The lock clicked and Vincent was able to push the door open.
Vincent looked around. He was somewhere in the forested Catoctin Mountain Park along the eastern rampart of the Appalachian Mountains.209 He was standing in a lush verdant forest along one of the mountain slopes. He turned around to look at the door through which he had exited a few moments earlier. It was virtually impossible to discern, quite ingeniously hidden away in the slope.
‘It’s probably used by all those lunatics to enter and exit the ceremonial chambers without being observed,’ thought Vincent as he carefully trudged along to get to the main road and onwards to civilisation.
He felt inside his pocket for the photocopy of the Rozabal document that he had managed to secretly keep in spite of the original being snatched away by General Prithviraj Singh in Srinagar. It wasn’t there! It had obviously slipped out sometime during his escape from the Illuminati headquarters. The Illuminati now had the original as well as the photocopy somewhere on their premises.
Katra, Jammu, India, 2012
The Trikuta Mountain, where the Vaishno Devi shrine was located, had a single base but three peaks. Hence the name tri-kuta, meaning ‘three peaks’. Three women were walking up the slope of the mountain toward the place where they would be able to access the holy cave that eventually led to the shrine itself. On an average, 5.4 million devotees paid homage to the divine Mother Goddess each year, trekking nearly twelve kilometres from the base till they reached the holy shrine at an altitude of 5,200 feet.
This particular shrine had no statues. The three heads that were worshipped by devotees were natural rock formations. The uniqueness of this formation was that although emanating from one single rock form, each head was distinctly different from the other two in colour and texture; hence each would be worshipped as a different manifestation of the divine Mother.
The three women seemed quite comfortable with each other. Swakilki, Alissa and Martha were on their way to reacquainting themselves with the powers of the cult of the sacred feminine.
In the centre stood the divine Mother in gold. The golden goddess was considered to be the source of wealth and prosperity. She was supposed to enhance the qualities of inspiration and effort in her devotees. Her name was Lakshmi.
To the left stood the divine Mother in white. The white goddess was considered to be the source of all creation, knowledge, wisdom, righteousness, art, spiritualism and piety. Her name was Saraswati.
To the right stood the divine Mother in black. She represented the quality associated with the darker and unknown realms of life. Since human knowledge about life was rather limited, and given the fact that man continued to remain in the dark about most of it, the black goddess was the basic source of all that was mystical and unknown to man. The black goddess was supposed to guide her devotees in conquering the forces of darkness. Her name was Kali.
Hindus believed that all human beings contained attributes of the three divine Mothers and that their behaviour was determined by the attributes that were predominant in their nature. But they also believed that in order to lead a meaningful life, a proper balance among these three was necessary and that any exaggerated trait spelt danger.
This was the significance of the number 13. One supreme being and three manifestations.
The holy trinity.
Lakshmi Saraswati Kali.
La Sara Kali.
Not just an anagram, but an indication of membership of a very exclusive club. The cult of the sacred feminine.
New York, USA, 2012
Vincent was on a flight back to New York when he remembered the most important words from the Gospel of Jesus:
And when you emerge and see the trees. Please do consider what will make you free. Thirteen Cycles. One and Three. The Mayan called it the Sacred Tree. I just call it the Sacred Three. Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva are Three. Lakshmi, Kali and Saraswati. The third eye that the Hindus see. The lines of a triangle in trinity. Christian, Muslim, Illuminati. The first two fight, the third waits to see. How much destruction can there possibly be?
That was when the shekel dropped!
Mary Magdalene herself had studied the ancient occult sciences as a temple priestess in Maghada and had derived her powers from the three manifestations of the divine Goddess. Lakshmi, Saraswati and Kali.
And when she reached France, her daughter had been called La Sara Kali because she represented not only the bloodline of Jesus and Mary but also the continuation of the cult of the sacred feminine. Her name represented all three elements of the trinity: La-kshmi, Sara-swati and Kali.
Then he remembered the visions from his projection with Martha in Goa:
‘Where are you now?’
‘Yerushalem.’
&nb
sp; ‘And what do you see around you?’
‘Temple fires. It’s night. I can see Caiaphas and the Sanhedrin assembled, judging Jesus. They are irritable because no reliable witnesses are coming forth with evidence against Jesus.’
‘Anyone familiar from your present life?’
‘Thomas Manning.’
‘Who is he?’
‘He is Caiaphas—poisoning the minds of those assembled against Jesus. In this life too, he continues to seek vengeance.’
‘Anyone else?’
‘The Japanese woman who kidnapped me. Swakilki. She’s present. She’s Mary Magdalene!’
‘Anyone else?’
‘You, Nana!’
‘What am I doing?’
‘You’re Mary Magdalene!’
‘You’re confused Vincent . . . anyone else there?’
‘Another woman—I don’t know her. She’s Mary Magdalene!’
‘Vincent, you seem to think everyone is Mary. Let’s move on . . . now what is happening?’
‘I can see Jesus and three women walking towards Damascus . . . I can see only their backs.’
Vincent realised how foolish he had been! He had seen Mary Magdalene, the high priestess of Maghada, surrounded by the three manifestations of the sacred feminine: the creator, the nurturer, the destroyer.
After all, Mary Magdalene herself was a supremely powerful personification of Shakti, the divine power of the sacred feminine. Just like every woman ever!
Les Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer, France, A.D. 42
The Rozabal Line Page 31