The Phoenix Apostles

by Lynn Sholes

  "I was dead to the world." She took a seat.

  Seneca heard the pop top open as Matt returned. He poured a Diet Coke over ice in a glass as he talked. "The Coast Guard called and said it had been determined that the incident with my boat was an accident. It was a military trial of some new type of secret drone helicopter that went haywire. I hope the military is willing to pay me for my loss. I loved that boat."

  "Thanks." Seneca took the glass when he held it out. "I can imagine the red tape that's going to involve."

  "Probably." Matt returned to his seat.

  Al seemed to study her face. "How long do you plan on staying down here in paradise?"

  "I'm going back just as soon as I get my stuff from the motel. And Matt, I hope you really don't mind if I call later in the week. I'll probably think of a dozen questions about the empty tombs."

  "No problem." He took a sip from his coffee mug.

  "So you think there's something to these tomb robberies-the missing remains?" Al said.

  "I'm hoping. A story about someone stealing the bones of the most notorious mass murderers in history should perk up the ears of my editor." Her voice choked. "And Daniel deserves it."

  He sat back as if digesting what she had said. "Hmm. Interesting. You sure you're ready to go headlong into work?"

  Seneca drew in a breath. "Listen, last night you said someone picked up my name in a chatroom being monitored by your ... organization. Maybe it has something to do with Daniel's death. Why didn't you explain in what context my name was mentioned?"

  "That's because I don't know the context. The information gathered is top-secret intelligence. For one of my old chums to even alert me that he'd seen your name is extraordinary."

  "Are you being deliberately vague?"

  "No, I'm being honest. I'm retired, no longer part of the unit. My friend could get in some mighty hot water for leaking it to me. What he told me was sketchy."

  "Is there any way you could get more information from him?"

  "Not without a really compelling reason. That's why I asked you if you knew anybody who might like to see you on the other side of the turf." He folded the sports section and placed it on the table. Al's tone turned serious. "Somebody has made you a target. So, I'll ask again. Do you know anyone who would want you dead?"

  "No. Who would want to kill me?"

  TONIGHT SHOW 2008, BURBANK, CA

  As THEY CAME BACK from the break, the floor director counted down Jay Leno. "My next guest is the former president and CEO of one of the largest corporations in the world, and now the charismatic founder of the highly publicized and amazingly popular Phoenix Ministry. Please welcome Javier Scarrow." Leno stood and walked from behind his desk to greet Scarrow as the NBC Tonight Show band played and the audience broke into applause.

  Scarrow, dressed in a black custom-tailored suit, shook Leno's hand, then went to stand in front of the guest's chair. He waved to the audience before sitting.

  "Welcome. Good to have you with us."

  "It's a pleasure, Jay." Scarrow unbuttoned his coat then crossed his legs, smoothing the creases in his pants. "I've looked forward to being here."

  "You have a new book out called The Grand Alignment." Leno held up the book for the camera. The cover showed Scarrow dressed in a red and black robe with his arms extended as he gazed to the heavens. Behind him was a picture of a stylized, pyramidshaped structure gleaming in the sunlight, over which floated various planets and stars.

  "I read your book over the weekend, and I have to admit, I found it fascinating. Obviously, many others have, too. It's been number one on the bestseller list for..."

  "Ten weeks."

  "And I understand it's already been translated into forty languages. So congratulations on your success."

  "The message is compelling, Jay, and I believe the time is right for us all to think about universal balance and alignment."

  "So before we get into the basis for your Phoenix Ministry and how you intend to change the world, tell us about your background. I mean, you spent a number of years as head of Groves Consortium, right?"

  "Eighteen."

  "How was that? Working with a recluse like William Groves? There's been so much written about him. What's he really like?"

  "It's an understatement to say that William Groves is truly bigger than life. As was his father, grandfather, and so on. The company that was started back at the turn of the last century has been responsible for so many innovations and life-transforming technological advancements. It's hard to know where to begin. Space exploration, medicine, energy, and so much more. Whenever he finds a worthy idea, no matter how small, he funds it until it became a success. William is an extremely powerful and persuasive individual who knows what he wants and how to get it. But it's important to remember that being one of the richest men in the world, he has to be conscious of his safety and security. So despite all the rumors you hear and read, he is a perfectly normal human being who totally enjoys and cherishes his privacy. We have to respect that."

  "Yes, but is it true that he won't allow anyone to touch him, that he makes his support staff wear surgical gloves and masks when they're in the same room with him? Kind of reminiscent of Howard Hughes, wouldn't you say."

  Scarrow laughed. "Unlike Howard Hughes, William has a medical condition that makes him susceptible to infections that would be minor inconveniences to most of us, but could be potentially life threatening for him. So he does take all necessary precautions."

  "And you're still helping to run the company?"

  "Not on a daily basis. Our ministry takes up most of my time now. I stepped down last year as the president and CEO, but I still serve on the board and as a personal advisor to William."

  "What got you interested in the concepts you profess in your book?"

  "Since you've read The Grand Alignment, you know that I stress the importance of universal harmony. By that I mean that as creatures of the same universe, in order to achieve happiness and fulfillment, we must all be in synchronization in our thoughts and in our actions. We must be as one in our goals and objectives, and stop isolating ourselves in different sects. I don't believe we are meant to separate ourselves from others. That breeds hatred when our true endeavor is just the opposite. We must have a vision that looks beyond the present, beyond our little niche and cocoon, and be able to chart a map of the future."

  "In your book, you stress a non-religious belief."

  "Correct. I'm not talking about religion, but a belief system that lets us all focus on the same goals. All the great prophets have delivered the same message of loving one another and the act of giving of oneself."

  "So you don't support one religion over another?"

  "No. If the common goal of all the world's religions is universal welfare, why do we need so many? Why not set the goal that we must achieve harmony in our lives and come together as one to attain it without being labeled under the banner of one religion or another?

  "After all, aren't the basic instincts of all people the same-the striving for peace and brotherhood? Isn't this the core of all religions? It's what ancient Indian philosophy calls dharma. All that's needed to be in balance with our surroundings is to have a welldeveloped life science which produces harmony between body, mind, and soul. A higher truth.

  "Everything in creation vibrates. Our thoughts vibrate and are sent out into the universe. Our objective is to attune our vibrations. All of us want better, happier lives, but too many of us don't know how to bring that about in our daily existence. We think those things manifest in possessions and riches, but where has that gotten us? What have we given back to a universe that has sustained us since man first walked the Earth? We must strive to come together, to give back, and mentally bring all of nature in alignment. We must be one in our universal thoughts. We must be as one.

  As he paused, the audience broke into applause.

  Jay grinned into the camera. "Wow, that's got a definite, woowoo, New Age ring to it."
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br />   "That's an interesting term. But the fact is, there's no more of what you call woo-woo than any present or past religion practiced around the world. We are talking about a new way of thinking, not a new religion. And this is a new age. It's time to change our way of thinking. In one instant, one singular moment in time, we have the ability to annihilate the human race. Why have we worked so hard at discovering the perfect way to destroy ourselves? A new age has arrived, and we must change if we want to survive and not become the next extinct species. I believe that it's time to let go of that old attitude."

  "Well said." The audience erupted in applause. Jay waited for them to settle down. "Now, you also say in your book that everyone needs to make sacrifices. I think you touched on that when you mentioned giving back. Can you elaborate a little more on what you mean?"

  "By sacrificing, I mean giving up something in our lives. No matter how much or how little we have in our lives, there's always a portion we can give back to the universe. Whether it's money or time or prayer, we can give something back that will then be passed on to the collective universe which serves us all. The yield of our sacrifices will be reaped by generations to come." Scarrow turned and looked at the audience.

  "There's certainly nothing wrong with that concept." The applause built again. "So where do you head from here? I know you're gearing up for a two-year world tour. I understand your destinations span the globe."

  "Yes, our first stop is going to be Munich, Germany, followed by Saudi Arabia, and then on to the Holy Land."

  "So you weren't kidding about working with peoples of all faiths. What are we talking here, Buddhists, Muslims, and Jews?"

  "And Christians. As I said, Jay, the Phoenix Ministry has nothing to do with religion. Some of our largest groups of supporters are already established in those countries."

  "Amazing. Well look, I know you've gotta run. We wish you the best of luck." He held up the book one more time. "It's called The Grand Alignment and it's in stores now. Javier, will you come back and see us after you've finished your two-year road trip?"

  "I'd be delighted."

  They shook hands.

  Leno pointed at the camera. "Okay, don't go away. After the break, Alicia Keys performs right here."

  Groves sat in the darkened bedroom suite atop the Burj Al Arab Hotel in Dubai and stared out of the smoked plate-glass windows overlooking the Persian Gulf. He had been watching the satellite feed of the Tonight Show. When it went to a commercial, he aimed the remote at the television and pushed the off button. As he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his face, he whispered, "What have I done?"

  BODY SNATCHERS 2012, MIAMI

  SENECA SAT AT THE writing desk in a corner of her bedroom waiting for her desktop computer to finish booting. She'd have much rather been settled on the couch with her laptop and a Diet Coke. But the laptop was among the items lost in the Mexico City bombing. She rested her forehead in the heels of her hands, elbows propped, staring at the keyboard. Where was she going to get the money for a new laptop, another camera, her mother's care? Her email program opened, and she looked at the scrolling list of new messages. Moaning about her situation wasn't going to get her anywhere but into a funk. The best thing to do was make an allout effort to patch something together for her editor.

  She scrolled through the emails, deleting most as spam, opening a few, and skipping the ones she would read later. Just as she was about to close out she heard the familiar ping that alerted her to new email. It was from Matt.

  She clicked on it.

  Hi Seneca,

  Hope you got home safe. I was sitting here trying to work on my book but have been distracted, replaying our ordeal. I have to say, you are a truly amazing lady; that was clear the moment I met you. You certainly proved it during-what should we call it-our mangrove adventure. We are lucky to be alive! When I think of that and then all you have been through, I don't have much to complain about. The loss of my boat is trivial compared to you losing your fiance in Mexico. I'm sure he's proud of you and your courage in getting through the terror of last night. I'm honored to be your friend.

  I've been thinking about those tombs and the missing remains, and I really believe we might be on to something. It just seems like too much of a coincidence.

  Anyway, hope to hear from you soon.

  All best,

  Matt

  Seneca hit the reply button.

  Great to hear from you, Matt. Yes, I arrived safely. Driving in Miami was a breeze after this weekend's "mangrove adventure." Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time! I'll have a great story to tell during dinner conversations.

  I'm going to do some digging myself about the tombs. I just sat down at the computer to get started.

  Thanks for your kind words. They mean a lot.

  Talk to you soon.

  PS. I'm proud to call you friend, too.

  Seneca reread her message before hitting the send button. Daniel would have liked Matt, she thought.

  She deliberately switched her thoughts, not allowing herself to dwell on Dan. The best thing was for her to pour herself into her work and let that absorb her.

  "Okay, then."

  She Googled famous grave robberies and found over ninetyseven thousand results. Most of the first sites were about Egyptian tombs, but as she dove deeper into the Web she found more interesting morsels, like the numerous attempts to steal Abraham Lincoln's remains. The body had been moved seventeen times to stop repeated attempts. Finally, in 1900, his coffin was buried ten feet underground in a cage and encased in four thousand pounds of concrete. Well, yeah, she thought, that ought to put an end to it.

  Seneca ran across other grave robberies of famous people, like Oliver Cromwell. His grave had been desecrated, and all of his teeth and some of his hair were stolen.

  The next site was more grisly. Its focus was on a present-day, ghoulish and macabre industry that was booming. Apparently with the phenomenal growth in biotechnology, pharmaceutical industries, and transplant surgeries, there is a huge global demand for body parts, which in turn spawns a growing unlawful trade in them. This new industry in the illegal trafficking of body parts was shocking. One detective described his job of opening coffins to verify the contents and finding bodies with missing skin, bone, tendons, and organs. Typical was plumbing pipes substituted for missing bones and sawdust filled empty abdominal cavities.

  The more Seneca read, the more astounded she became. One of the most alarming accounts was what became of Alistair Cooke's remains. He was ninety-five years old when he died of lung cancer that had metastasized to his bones. This morbid ring of body snatchers paid funeral directors $1,000 per corpse, and then sold the remains to tissue-processing companies. The documentation accompanying Cooke's remains had been altered, changing his age and also falsifying his cause of death as a heart attack. Even the spelling of his name had been changed. Alistair Cooke's brittle, cancer-ridden bones were sold for $7,000. They had been disarticulated, fragmented, and some portions ground and pulverized to be used in a variety of orthopedic procedures, transplants, and oral surgeries, which horrifyingly endangered the recipients' lives. It is suspected that his diseased remains may reside in fifteen to twenty people, depending on the procedure.

  The article went on to say that the primary demand for illegal body parts came from the United States, but the list of other countries was extensive.

  She scanned a few more articles, stunned at each, especially when she found information that it was easier to ship a private refrigerated truck full of human heads than a truckload of frozen chickens across state lines. After all, the latter needs government inspection.

  Seneca sat back mulling over the possibility that maybe the tomb robberies were all about selling body parts for money. Or bones, anyway. If so, what did that have to do with the Mexico bombing? And that angle wasn't going to help her sell her story idea to her editor. Simply by surfing the Internet there were clearly enough articles and documentaries out there o
n the subject. She needed a new twist. Why not take Montezuma's treasures if money was the motive? Why go to such trouble with his tomb and Elizabeth Bathory's and the others? Could the price of body parts exceed that of the gold and gems in Montezuma's tomb? That was hard to believe since it involved bones that were hundreds of years old. And wouldn't any local graveyard be an easier target. There were thousands of remote cemeteries across the globe that could be robbed without immediate discovery.

  Seneca drummed her fingers on the desk as she ran through what she and Matt had discussed.

  Startled, she jumped when the phone rang.

  "Hello."

  "You'll never guess what just came over Reuters." It was Matt. He didn't wait for her to answer. Excitement filled his voice. "Ever heard of Maximilien Robespierre?"