by Leo Mark
As he got closer, one of the men with ties got up to greet the governor.
‘Mr. governor, you are very welcome, I hope you had a good journey,’ said the man, in a cheerful and educated tone, extending his hand to the governor.
‘A very long trip, but it went well, thank you for asking.’
‘My name is Arnold Idimmu, you have probably heard of me.’
‘Yes indeed, I have an account with your bank, as does my father.’
‘Yes, your father and I are good friends. But let me introduce the others. You already know his Royal Highness. This is Benjamin Uggae and this is Frederick Cullen,’ said Arnold, indicating the two men seated at his side.
The governor shook hands with all of them.
‘Please, take this chair. What would you like to drink?’
‘A coffee would be fine, thanks.’
Hardly had he ordered the coffee when he heard the door of the chamber open. He looked round to see who was coming in and could see the outline of his father walking towards the meeting table.
‘Our missing guest has arrived,’ said Arnold, extending his hand to the governor’s father, who greeted the leader and rested his hand on his son´s shoulder.
‘Dad, what are you doing here? You didn´t tell me you’d be at this meeting too.’
‘Good morning, son. It was deliberate, no one must know that we’re together at a meeting,’ he replied, while shaking hands with the others. ‘A coffee for me, too, please. Thank you,’ said the governor’s father to one of the palace servants.
‘Well, now we’re all here, let’s start the meeting,’ announced Arnold who was in the chair. Benjamin was the first to speak.
‘Your father has told us that you intend to stand for the presidency. We would like to know if you are truly determined and ready to do this.’
‘Of course, I´m totally determined. I very much want to be president and I know I am capable of running the country.’
‘Very well, we called you here because we want to finance your campaign. You are well aware that generally the candidate who spends most on his campaign is the one who wins.’
‘Yes, that’s what happens. I´m honored that you want to back me.’
‘You know too that you are a member of a lower order, and that when you became a member you promised to obey its precepts and its laws, putting them above all others.’
‘Of course. That´s how I have always acted since then. I have always done all I can to help the order and our brothers.’
‘We are pleased with your loyalty,’ said Benjamin. Arnold then spoke again.
‘Mr. Governor, our brother Benjamin, as well as one of the most important bankers in Europe, is the major shareholder in Shield Corporation, the biggest arms manufacturer in the world, with some contracts in your country. Probably you didn´t know this. As Benjamin is also a banker we don´t like to have his name mixed up with the arms industry.’
‘I know Shield very well. You make the best armaments in the world,’ answered the governor.
‘And you know too that your family holds large blocks of shares in oil companies, as do our dear brothers of the royal family?’
‘Of course I know, I just don´t know what you´re trying to get at,’ replied the governor, curious to know the reason for so many questions and preparations.
‘Please, let’s cut straight to the chase.’ This time is was his father speaking.
‘Son, what we’re trying to say is that, as they are going to finance your campaign, they will need a return on their investment, which will also benefit our family enormously.’
‘That´s right. We are businessmen and we invest our money where we know we will get a return,’ said Benjamin, putting his teacup down on the huge table.
‘What we want from you, as soon as you are elected, is that you sign purchase and arms development contracts with Shield.’
‘Naturally I understand, I had imagined this would be the case. But where does oil come into the story?’
‘We have a plan that will make America buy arms on a big scale, and in return the country and also your family will have access to a lot of oil.’
‘And what would this plan be?’
‘As soon as you take over as president, you will declare war on terrorism. First you will attack Afghanistan and then Iraq. The attack on Afghanistan will simply be a pretext for attacking Iraq. In this way the USA will take control of Iraq´s petroleum and sell drilling concessions to the companies your family has shares in, which are controlled by our dear friends of the royal family here.’
‘I´m sorry, I didn´t quite get that. You want me to attack two countries for no good reason, and send thousands of Americans to a war to die? Based on what?’
‘As I said: war on terrorism. In the year you take over as president terrorists with ties to our organization will attack the USA. The targets will be the White House, the Pentagon and the World Trade Center.’
‘Impossible, you´re telling me that terrorists are going to attack my country? And just how do they propose to do that? Our military defense is solid; nothing can get close without we know it. And car bombs or suicide bombers can´t do enough damage to justify a war.’
‘We have thought of this too. The plan is to attack the targets with civilian planes. The terrorists will hijack several commercial planes, take control of them and crash them into the chosen targets. It will be a simultaneous attack, all the planes at practically the same time.’
‘My God, a suicide attack of this size? I don´t know what to say!’ exclaimed the governor, stammering and sweating even more.
‘There´s not much you´ll have to do. Just hinder some CIA investigations.’
‘Hinder how?’
‘We´ll be using some Saudi Arabian terrorists who belong to Al Qaeda, which I´m sure you know.’
‘I know them very well: Osama Bin Laden.’
‘Exactly. We are going to finance the terrorist mission. And when it happens, you will declare war on Afghanistan, with the excuse that you are hunting Bin Laden. A couple of years later you will attack Iraq, saying that it is hiding Osama Bin Laden and that the CIA has discovered that the country is making weapons of mass destruction. In this way America will be at war with Iraq.’
‘But what if other countries intervene on behalf of Afghanistan or Iraq?’
‘If that happens, better still, more countries for us to conquer and more arms for us to sell. But it´ll be hard for a country to go to war with the greatest world power, only if they´re crazy.’
‘But don´t you think the plan is very risky?’
‘Mr. Governor, we have everything planned. It can´t go wrong.’
‘Son, look on the bright side. We´ll be toppling a dictator and bringing peace to a country controlled by terrorists, which is Afghanistan´s case. When the American citizens realize that they´ve been attacked in their own homes, they´ll be the first to demand a war against terror.’
‘OK, I agree. We shall be sacrificing a few for the security of the many, and our nation will become even stronger. But I can´t close all the armaments contracts with Shield, people will suspect something.’
‘Of course you can´t. Let´s say you give Shield 80% of the contracts, and the rest to the others,’ replied Benjamin, with a big smile.
‘Very good, son, a wise decision,’ said the senior Bush, putting his hand on his son´s shoulder.
‘The attack is planned for 11th September 2001. When you take office, give the CIA orders to wind down the investigations into Al Qaeda in US territory, and tell them to concentrate on other terrorists,’ said Frederick who had not spoken before.
Frederick Cullen was Benjamin´s right-hand man, apart from being a great military strategist and responsible for the Illuminati´s dirty work.
‘You will receive encrypted instructions via this e-mail. Here is the address and the password for you to access it once a month. When you do so, read the message and delete it immediately,’ said Frederick, h
anding the governor an envelope.
‘Gentlemen, I think our meeting has been very productive. Thank you all for coming and I shall count on you all to do your best,’ said Benjamin, getting up. ‘And we are grateful to the royal family for giving us the chance to work together once more. I´ll expect you at my house to take tea.’
Benjamin shook hands with their royal hosts and bowed slightly to them, an unusual enough thing as he was more accustomed to have others bow to him.
Then they all got up and walked to the palace exit. At the bottom of the staircase white limousines were waiting to take each of them to his destination. Father and son got into the same car, as they were staying at the same hotel. The son was very nervous, never having been involved in such a vast scheme before, and feeling the weight of responsibility on
his shoulders.
‘Relax, son, great power requires great responsibility. You´ll quickly get used to the taste of power and see that what we are doing is for everyone´s well-being. I very much hope you´ll keep you word when you are elected. If you don´t …’
‘But father, what if I´m not elected? And if I am, and something goes wrong, can they put the blame on me?’
‘Not if you do your part. If you do everything you´ve been told they can´t blame you if something goes wrong. What I´m afraid of is that you might not fulfill your part of the deal when the terrorist attacks take place. They are very powerful, son, do whatever is in your power, our family will profit and your name will be remembered as the one who fought terrorism and banished it from America. The last president who refused to follow the Illuminati´s instructions ended up dead. You know his name: John Fitzgerald Kennedy.’
CHAPTER 4
City of Biot, France, 1980
It was past one o´clock in the morning. More than half-a-dozen black cars were scattered around the narrow streets of the city near the little church of Saint Mary Magdalene. All the cars had smoked-glass windows, making it impossible to see who or what was inside. In the cars were men wearing smart black suits and armed to the teeth with a variety of weapons. They were there to protect a secret meeting which was going to start in a few minutes inside the church. Everyone in the city was asleep and every movement was careful and silent, so that the people living nearby shouldn´t notice their presence. Two guards watched the inside of the church, controlling the entrance of the members of the group by the back door. Every five minutes a car drew up at this door and a person wearing a monk´s habit got out. They went to the door and knocked three times at the top and twice at the bottom. It was the sign for the guard to allow them to go in. As they entered the car drove away. In all, eleven monks entered
the church.
Inside, the monks began to sit down as they arrived. The place was dark and gloomy and there were torches burning on all the columns which supported the roof of the church. The monks didn´t even look at each other, let alone exchange a word. It was totally silent. And then a monk wearing a white habit appeared at the altar.
‘Good evening, brothers,’ said the white monk in accented French. ‘I appreciate your illustrious presence. Brothers, as you well know, today is a very important day for us. For centuries our predecessors waited, and now we have been waiting for this day. Our last meeting was thirty years ago and, for some of us, this is the first meeting. As you were told, this meeting was to be in the exact place where our relic is buried - and today is the day that we will unearth it.’
The relic they were to unearth had been placed in that church by the Knights Templar in the fifteenth century, and had been lying there in secret until then. Only the family of the grand master, the white monk, knew its exact location. Weeks before the meeting, all the members had received an ancient parchment, delivered personally by trusted messengers of the grand master, informing them. The parchment was sealed with the symbol of the society, which only the members themselves recognized.
Then the white monk went on:
‘Brothers, it happens that our enemies are close to finding this place. So the withdrawal of the relic is more than providential.’
‘Brother, we would like to have the latest news about our enemies. How did you discover that they were close?’ asked one of the monks in a worried voice.
‘Our contact in the CIA is monitoring some of their members, and according to the intelligence report they are already in Marseilles, searching. They have never been so close,’ replied the grand master. ‘Please follow me down under the church. Come this way.’
The white monk climbed down and walked along the wall behind the altar. In the middle were old wooden bookshelves, practically rotten from the damp in the place. With the help of two of the other monks one of the bookshelves was carefully removed. The floor was of white marble, but it was black from years of accumulated dirt. A guard wearing a dark blue tunic took hold of a pickaxe and looked into the white monk´s eyes. The latter gave the signal for him to start breaking the marble in that exact spot. As the guard broke the flooring, instead of the broken pieces of marble staying put or flying into the air, they were sucked downwards. The floor was hollow, in fact it was a passageway. After making a hole about a yard in each direction, they could see iron bars attached to the wall, forming a staircase. The first to go down was the guard. He descended the iron steps carefully, holding a lantern in one hand. When he had gone down about ten feet he stepped on to what turned out to be a wooden trapdoor. He shone the torch on it and saw that it was locked with an enormous black padlock. As the wood seemed old and rotten, the guard raised his head and with a look asked for permission from the white monk to open the trapdoor. Permission was immediately given; and the guard, with a single kick, broke through the wood. The way was clear. He went down another six feet until he could stand on the floor. He shone the lantern round and then began to clear the cobwebs which covered everything.
It was an empty chamber, the walls were made of stone and nothing could be seen except some ancient torches hanging on the wall. One by one the monks climbed down to the chamber, now fully lit by their lanterns. The white monk indicated the exact spot on the wall that the guard should break. The man set to work at once. Some pieces of stone started to fall outwards, but most of them inwards - once again, the place was hollow. With a great effort the guard managed to clear a passage about six feet wide and four high. The guard was the first to make his way through and behind him went the monks with their lanterns lit. They passed along a corridor about eight feet wide, all of stone, for a distance of about fifty yards. The floor sloped down, so that as they walked forwards they gradually went lower. After the fifty yards they found a bend in the passage, and when they went round it the floor started to fall even more steeply. They went on for another hundred yards or so.
Suddenly they came to a huge iron gateway. This time the pickaxe wasn´t enough to break down the gate, and mere kicks were of no use. Then the white monk produced from his neck a piece of string, with two keys attached to it: one of them should open the gate. They were almost identical and the first one that the monk tried was unsuccessful. The second key fitted perfectly and he turned the lock, opening it. The guard pushed the gate but it was very heavy and the first time he failed to open it. He rested a little, and then with a slightly greater effort he pushed it open. Cautiously he entered the place, keeping his lantern in front of him to avoid any nasty surprises. Once again they found an empty chamber, this one a little smaller than the last. The white monk seemed unsurprised and the others, although surprised, were getting used to it.
‘Where should I break now, sir?’ asked the guard, who now seemed a little disheartened.
‘You don´t need to break any more, just let me past,’ said the grand master, moving ahead of him.
He could see, just above his head on one of the walls, some slightly darker stones. He reached up to touch the topmost of them and gave it a push with his two hands. The stone moved and began to slip into the wall. Noises could be heard as of a gearing mechanism working. The nois
e stopped and the wall slowly began to move. All of them in the chamber just stared with their mouths open.
‘John, you are to guard the entrance. We will go on alone. Many thanks for your help,’ said the white monk, putting his hand on the guard´s shoulder.
‘Brothers, be so kind as to follow me.’
Then they all went through the wall which had just opened. One by one they collected at the other side and, as the light of their lanterns grew stronger, the place was illuminated. It was a great gallery, all made of marble, with wide columns and some stained-glass windows - it seemed like a temple or something similar. Some of the columns held inscriptions in Roman lettering and some drawings. The men started walking slowly forward and soon they could see an altar. They went up some marble stairs and were greeted by another iron door. In the middle of the door there was the design of a cross, and on the cross there were twelve locks.