by P. G. Burns
He had not let Cumisky know the full extent of the plan, of course: standard practice for the Djinn. As always, Reuben’s plan is meticulous and, as usual, his targets will not have a clue what’s coming.
“Special request for visitor, Mills,” shouts the new screw, Boland, into Shane’s cell.
“What?” Shane has not had a visitor in all the time he has been in the clink. He has not sent anyone a visiting order either. Puzzled, he asks Boland once more, “What?”
The screw responds by pronouncing each word slowly. “Yooouuu… haavvvve… aaay… vis…it…ooor! Some lady. She has somehow been issued an emergency VO. She either has the warden’s ear or she must be special.”
Shane suddenly leaps from his bunk, heads out of his cell and sprints to the wing exit door.
“Hold on, Mills,” shouts Boland as he struggles to keep up.
It’s Sara, it must be, thinks Shane. His heart is beating out of his chest and he is visibly shaking. For so long he hasn’t seen those beautiful rosebud lips that slightly crooked smile, that body!
“Come on, Boland, hurry up.”
Boland huffs and puffs as he eventually catches up. He opens the wing door. Like a dog out of the trap Shane sprints down to the visiting block. The guards quickly search him and, sensing his urgency, let him into the visitor’s room. He is surprised to see that the room is quite big. He is also surprised to see that there are no other cons receiving visits. Mostly though he is surprised and desperately disappointed to realise that Sara is not his visitor. His face shows this disappointment. As his heart sinks he slumps down into the empty chair opposite the only other person in the room.
The young girl can be no older than eighteen with shoulder-length, Celtic red hair, porcelain-white skin, baby-blue eyes, plump lips and an even amount of fairy kiss freckles that are sprinkled across each side of her slightly turned-up, button nose.
“Are you my visitor?” asks Shane as he takes the seat.
Her smile reveals a small gap in otherwise perfect teeth. “Hello, Shane Mills. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She runs her hand through her hair, tucking it behind her ears in what seems a slightly flirtatious manner. “My name is Amitiel. I apologise for the unannounced visit but I needed to speak with you. It is urgent and very important.”
“Amitiel? That name rings a bell,” thinks Shane. “Did Sara mention her? Perhaps she was a work colleague? No, that’s not it…”
“Do I know you? Are you Sara’s cousin? Have you got a message for me from her?” he asks, more in hope than belief.
“I don’t know Sara.” The girl smiles apologetically. “I am sorry. Has Leo not told you about me? I am an Arc Hon. I am the Angel of Truth.”
Shane has had enough. His hopes are smashed and his heart contracts at what he guesses is somehow Leo’s desperate attempt to involve him in this bizarre imagined quest once more. He just wants to see Sara and this was a fucking shit trick.
“Listen, little girl, I don’t know how or why Leo has put you up to this but he is a very sick man and I am a very pissed-off individual, so please just get the fuck out of here and forget whatever bollocks you are supposed to say to me.”
Amitiel smiles and despite the inner turmoil bubbling inside of him, Shane is calmed by her innocence and her beauty, not the beauty of a Hollywood actress or a catwalk model, rather she has a beauty that is lost to anyone who is no longer a child. Amitiel places her hand on his. It is soft, so soft. Shane means to pull away but is overwhelmed by the comfort her touch brings him.
Softly she whispers, “I must show you, you must see.”
A mixture of nausea and elation overcomes Shane and he feels like he is floating. He vaguely sees himself still sitting in the visiting room with Amitiel, her hands cupping his, but he is looking down on himself from a third-person perspective. Then he is no longer in the room but plummeting. Everything is whirling and no logical thought presents itself to Shane. He can see shadows and colours but no solid shapes. He is incapable of controlling any movement as his body is no longer with him. In the distance he feels another presence; it is Amitiel but she is not the same, her form is a silver- and grey-coloured aura, which appears to be shifting in and out of the shape of a wolf. The sensation of falling is followed by the sensation of rising. A voice calms him. It’s as if Amitiel is speaking to him but her voice is bypassing his normal audio function and is vibrating in his mind.
“Shane, we have little time and I must help you but first I have to remove your doubt. You must see what I see.”
The aura fully morphs into the girl’s image and Amitiel comes closer and soon, like a mist, she envelops Shane’s consciousness. Euphoria ten times more acute than any feeling he has ever felt is followed by clarity. He feels as if he has returned to the place he once called home.
“How can this be?” asks Shane.
“You are in a state of transcendental consciousness. This is who you are. You are the consciousness. You are not the corporeal appendages of your body. Your body is simply a receptor that you inhabit. I will guide you, do not fear. I must show you so that you know the truth.”
Clear pictures begin to form in front of him. The world looks different, he sees it from a bird’s-eye view. He watches tribes of ancient men wandering across the plains. In the distance is a great fire surrounding what looks like an idyllic city.
“This is Gheisthelm, it is the home of the Djinn.”
Shane can see forms. Not humans, not really even biological, just forms in what seems like a large fire. The flames are not a scary hell-like inferno but a beautiful multi-coloured paradise reminding him of a spectacular firework display, except these sparks are living beings.
“The Djinn originated from a sapient life forms similar to humans they evolved into a race of beings capable of great and wondrous achievements, ultimately they advanced to the realm of metaphysical consciousness. After thousands of years living in this spiritual state several Djinn experimented in crossing back over to the physical world.”
At this point Shane’s mind is invaded with scenes of huge constructions as thousands of men labour, dragging stone and wooden segments. Others were climbing the bamboo scaffolds that surround a huge temple under construction. As his mind’s eye pans out he sees the vastness of this city. He notices the wide streets, which seem to all loop in a spiral towards a huge flat-topped pyramid. The city was bordered by two mountains to the north and east and the sea to the south and west. Dressed in golden garments and a wearing a huge headdress is a tall olive skinned man he looks down from a throne which sits on a balcony positioned high in an impressive ancient palace Shane sees coloured smoke billowing around his head. Next he sees similar scenes of human minions worshipping a man dressed in the most ostentatious garments and beautiful woman who reminds him of Solfrid Gjerde, both have similar mist whirling around them.
“These early visits from the Djinn set the tone, using their great knowledge they set themselves up as god like deities. We Arc Hon decided we need to make contact with the Djinn worried they would eventually subjugate mankind completely, I should explain, we have to follow our rules which forbids us from direct interference we could not actually stop the Djinn but we have instructing from the Demiurge as well, so we negotiated an agreement. They would limit the numbers of Djinn crossing over and in return we would share the secret of Vril, up until this meeting the Djinn that crossed over were limited by the physical form and when it demised they either returned to Gheisthelm or died with it. Crossing over was a complex procedure and needed expansive energy bursts as well as many other logistical requirements. Vril would allow the Djinn to exist as a symbiont with humans, they could transfer the Vril to younger healthier bodies when the host became old or ill. Certain requirements were needed but essentially it allowed the Djinn to stay indefinitely. In exchange they agreed that only the thirteen would crossover to compete in a tournament, plus two of the original Djinn visitors who would act as guides, an
d thus the game began. It was also hoped that their presence would invoke an
Evolutionary leap for mankind.”
“Oh so it was for our own good,” Amitiel is aware he is using sarcasm but at risk of annoying him more she replies. “Yes in some ways it was, humans had benefited from visit earlier you just witnessed the civilisations Baal, Ayton and Solfrid brought to Mesopotamia, Egypt and the Indus.
“Didn’t look like much fun for the humans though did it, so what happened that would make you change your mind, why are you all of a sudden gone all Kofi Annan?”
Once more images spiral around Shane, Hundreds of people dressed in peasant attire stand in a field of dry hay. They are surrounded by soldiers wearing round helmets, two men sit on the hill one wears robes similar to a bishop the other armour made of brilliant polished metal. Shane can hear Amitiel explain that this is Ivan the terrible first Tsar of Russia and his most trusted advisor Macarius the metropolitan of Moscow, Shane sees the clergyman has the now familiar coloured mist above his head. The Tsar waves to his troops who using burning torches set the field alight the fire rapidly circling the field aided by some form of accelerant. Screams cry out as the peasants realise their fate, some cower and cover the eyes of their children some attempt to escape through the flames only to meet the sharp end of a spear. Shane views a mother brake the skull of her own child to save its pain. The two men on the hill fall about laughing at each scene.
A bright light causes pain in Shanes head and now he is witnessing a different scene. A small oriental looking man is working away in an ancient apothecary he seems to be feeding rats and then placing them into small wooden containers inhabited with tiny fleas, through the dark swirl above his head Shane sees a smile on his face he is pleased with himself. The man makes his way outside and approaches a caravan of people dressed in silk garments overlaid with heavy looking aprons. The man gives the box to one of them with a small bag of coins and passes on his instructions. “Release these when you enter Kaffa” the man nods and they set off. The scene jumps and Shane sees the devastation caused by this transaction as thousands of bodies lay strewn over the land. Amitiel explains, “Zeb decided to try to eliminate Simeon Isaac and Reuben by creating the Black Death the worst plague in human history, this was the first example of chemical warfare.
One more vision one I don’t think I will have to narrate to you,” Shane instantly recognises the place and is very aware of which event is about to take place. “When Levi wanted the Americans to go to war with the nations under Judd’s control he hit them in two places their hearts and their pockets. It was simple for him to recruit nineteen jihadist to die for Allah and he soon had them trained and ready to carry out the first attack on US soil for over fifty years. Her was aware the outcry would allow his planned attack under the logo ‘war on terror’ causing disarray to Judd’s fruitful oil income. Shane is spared the vision of the planes crashing into the twin towers and he is now floating above the visiting room looking down on himself and Amitiel bizarrely chatting away amicable and laughing. When he looks around he can see her aura and can hear her once more.
“We were guilty of undervaluing human lives and under estimating the contempt to which Djinn held you. I admit we got this wrong we should never have helped the Djinn. Vril has made them too powerful to the extent that they are at least our equal on this plain and know one of them is murdering the others and taking their amulets giving him access to the links created via their Vril soon nothing will be able to stop him and he will force all men into servitude.” She seems to mull over her thought before her next comment. “We really fucked up.”
“Ya think” Shane really doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry, before he has a chance to add his real thoughts he experiences a sudden falling sensation and as if he was never away he is sitting back in the visiting room.
“So, do you agree, Shane Mills?”
Shane shakes his head as if to clear his thoughts. He looks down at Amitiel’s hands; feeling her soft touch calms him. He hears the screw’s voice, “No touching, you know the rules.”
Amitiel releases his hand. “Reuben is about to try to get to you and the old Jew. He will strike tomorrow. I have reliable information that an armed vanguard will enter the prison under cover of a fire or explosion. The prime target is you. Reuben will have paid guards on the inside to create a reason to lock you up. When the fire starts a riot will ensue. The police, fire brigade and medics will all arrive but some of these will be his men in disguise. They will be tipped off as to which cell you are in and they will come and get you.”
Shane’s head is spinning. He looks up at the guard who is now looking over at them, seemingly none the wiser to Shane’s recent trip through time and space. Amitiel is chit chatting, as if they’d just stepped off a bus together mid-conversation. Get your shit together, Mills, he tells himself, mimicking his ritual when he was under fire in Afghanistan. Focus, breathe, fight. He repeats this mantra in his head. It has served him well most of his life and as the guard wanders back over to his post Shane finally accepts all this crazy shit as true. He sinks his head into his hands. “Holy mother of God the old man isn’t crazy.” He eventually looks up to this Angel of Truth for the next move. “Okay, so what do I do?” Amitiel looks at him puzzled. “I don’t bloody know! You’re the fucking hero. I’m just the messenger!”
Shane has to laugh at her response. “At least I have the element of surprise now, right? I’m guessing this Reuben won’t know that I know?”
She smiles. “He will know nothing.” She inclines her beautiful red head towards the guard who is watching them. “He is the guard who has been reporting to Reuben. Reuben will not learn of this visit; I will take care of him. You, however, must prepare for battle. With your permission, I will visit you tonight while you sleep and project a blueprint into your mind.” Shane holds his arms wide. “Project away, but a blueprint of what?”
She looks him in the eye. “The sewers. You will need to access them once the fire starts. Escape through these tunnels and I will have someone pick you up at the other end. You will need some sort of lever with you as there is a barred grid blocking your way out, just under the gates.”
Shane is not sure he heard correctly. “So, I not only have to find a way to get into the shitty sewer, but I have to find a crowbar in a prison and take it with me, all the while dragging a sixty-year-old Jew along for the ride and with just twenty-four hours to do it? Sounds like a piece of piss!”
The guard shuffles and grumbles, “Time’s up.”
“Please, sir, could we have five more minutes?” Amitiel says. “I haven’t seen Uncle Shane for months.”
The guard looks unsympathetic. “It’s against the rules.”
Amitiel purses her lips thoughtfully. “What if I’m extra nice to you, say in the storeroom, as a thank you?” The guard coughs and stutters as smutty visions pass through his mind. “What do you mean by nice?”
“Well, let’s just say you will have a happy ending, I pinkie promise.” Her reply is dripping in an overly cute, sweet voice and a very naughty smile. Shane nods, amused, to let him know she will, in fact, give him a good time.
“Okay, five minutes.” The guard returns to his corner.
Amitiel’s persona changes instantly, reverting back to business. Shane is impressed by her split-second transformation but is shocked by her statement.
“You won’t be taking the Jew, just Robert Price.”
Shane glares at her. He is pissed off on three counts: one, she’s already told him Leo is on Reuben’s hit list also, two, he doesn’t want Al Qaeda Bob on his team and three, hang on a minute, does he really look like an uncle?
“No way am I leaving Leo here for that cunt, Reuben, to do heaven knows what to.” He can tell from the look on Amitiel’s face he is not going to like what is coming next.
“Reuben wants Leo alive and for a very important reason. He has obtained a very special book
– perhaps Leo spoke of this?”
Shane smiled. He had listened to the tales Leo told him just to be polite but fortunately he had actually absorbed most of them, especially the importance of this book, the ledger that controlled half the world’s wealth. “Yes, some sort of accounts for the kings and queens of old, wasn’t it?”
“Something like that. The text is in a form of Yiddish that only a handful of people on the planet can read and Leo is one of these. While Leo is alive there is the risk Reuben will use him to access the books secret’s.”
Only slowly does Shane realise what she is suggesting. “What? Fuck off!”
Amitiel tries to take his hand but he pulls away. The guard looks over and she quickly speaks. “The old man will agree with me. If Reuben captures him he will take him to his fortress in Switzerland and torture him. At some point he will break and then he will turn to Reuben’s side. Is that what you want?”
“But why can’t Leo come with me instead of the fucking Jihadist? Leo is on our team, he’s the one who has tried to educate me about all this and you suggest I kill him?” Shane sits back and folds his arms. “Like I said, you can fuck off.”
Amitiel looks at the guard who seems to have picked up on the words ‘kill him’. This time she talks to Shane telepathically without speaking.
“You must be calm. You cannot take Leo. He won’t make it crawling through sewage on his stomach for two miles, not to mention the combat you will be involved in to get there. He will slow you down and get you caught. Let me explain what will happen when you are caught: Reuben is a sick bastard, you will be subjected to unbelievable pain that no human, not even you, can handle.”