Requiem for the Nephilim

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Requiem for the Nephilim Page 3

by Alan VanMeter


  “So, what is the plan for the day, Victor?” Kelly asks.

  “We load as much of the equipment as we can on the first three boats going up river, and then we shuttle personnel and the camping gear to the site. We will all stay for a day or two, then we can shuttle people back to the mother ship here for showers and a bit of more comfortable rest for a day at a time, while the others keep making our observations.”

  “Sounds like we have a plan.” She smiles at me.

  “Professor Dorozney, I can’t hardly stand camping in the wild, can I come back to the ship every chance?” A very pretty young lady named Vicky asks.

  “As long as it doesn’t put any of the other team mates out, I’m fine with it.”

  Kelly does have something to say about this though, “Vicky, if you really want to become an archeologist, you will have to learn to ignore the dirt and grime. This is what we do after all, digging in the Earth; remember?”

  She lowers her head and nods.

  “Get used to harsh conditions people!” Kelly demands. “Even though we will not be digging per-say here, it is still a field expedition.”

  The team all nod, most with eager eyes.

  With that the very sexiest girl on the whole team, Roberta, states, “It doesn’t matter if we look like, or smell like shit guys. We are here to make new discoveries, and that alone will make our shit smell like roses. Isn’t that right Professor Carlson?”

  “Well put Roberta, very well put.” The look Kelly gives the sexy young lady tells me that they might just be lovers, and if not already… I would bet on it very soon. Again my blood engorges my member just picturing them together. Stop it! Must keep my mind out of their pants!

  “What is the harshest expedition you’ve ever gone on Professor Dorozney?” Larry asks.

  “It was when I was much younger, to the Siberian wilderness in search of the deadly Kettles of the Gods.”

  “What are those?”

  “They are legendary strange metallic, kettle like artifacts that produce fiery energy beams to repel large objects falling to Earth, or so the local legends say.”

  Larry gasps, “What the fuck?”

  “Did you find them?” Vicky asks.

  “No, but we found strange circular areas in some swamps that were very near to where we had been told these objects were located, however we never had the chance to explore these fully. Several members of the expedition fell seriously ill after being around the spots, and so we had to get them out of there.”

  “How long were you in the woods?”

  “Three weeks going in, and almost four weeks getting our comrades out to medical help.”

  “If we are here that long, I’m going to need to get laid!” A fellow named Clint laughs in jest.

  “You may not be the only one there, Clint.” Roberta chuckles.

  “Just let me know girl.” He smiles.

  She winks at him, and I am certainly getting flash backs from that doomed expedition now.

  After breakfast the team and boat crews load up with the instruments, and begin the first trip up the river to the site over thirty miles distant. I stay with the Reina, as we call it, on this first trip, and Kelly leads the first of the team upriver. It is mid-afternoon by the time the skiffs and Kodiak boats return, and we hurried load the next batch of equipment, mainly the camping gear that they will definitely need for tonight. Again I stay on the main craft while the next group heads up river. I will take the first trip up in the morning though, and my age is definitely showing. Hell, here I am almost sixty five years old, and yet I am going to go play in the jungle; I must be crazy! God it is hot here, even though this is the winter season… Ha! Winter my ass!

  Just a couple hours after the second run leaves, Captain Guillermo sends a crewman to fetch me to the bridge. The man doesn’t speak English, so I just know that I am needed. Upon arriving, Juan tells me that we have some company nearby. He hands me his binoculars and points to a dark streak near the coast just a few miles northeast of us.

  “It is a submarine, Professor.”

  “What, a Navy sub?”

  “The Belize Navy has no submarines my friend, so I would venture that it is certainly not our Navy. Drug runners most likely.”

  “That is not a pleasant idea.” I hand him the field glasses back.

  “They appear to be anchored themselves, and they have a lot of activity on the deck.” Juan says, looking back through the binoculars.

  “Is there anyone you can radio about this?”

  “Yes, I will signal the Naval Costal service.” He goes to the radio set, and begins to make the call.

  We both are blindsided by the loud squelching static that comes back over the open channel.

  “This is not right.” Juan says as he tries to adjust the gain, then to make another call for information.

  The static just seems to get worse. Still he tries several more times, but then he looks through the glasses again. “Oh mierda! There is a fast boat heading towards us.”

  “Do you have any arms to repel boarders Captain?”

  “Yes, but only two old rifles.” He still stares at the approaching craft.

  “Can you see if they are armed?”

  “I do believe so Professor.”

  “Shit! What do you suggest Captain?”

  “It is probably best that we don’t fire upon them, as they might send more boats to us then. I think we should just welcome them, and see what they want.”

  I nod. “You know these people around here far better than I, sir.”

  “I don’t think these are locals.” He grimaces.

  In just a few minutes Juan hands the glasses back to me, “Do you recognize the weapons those men are carrying?”

  I look, and then hand them back to him nodding, “Those are AK ninety fours. Top of the line Russian small arms.”

  “It is a good thing I decided not to try to repel them then. We wouldn’t stand a chance.” Juan sighs.

  “No doubt.”

  They come along side in their inflatable landing boat and a man without an assault rifle shouts for permission to come aboard, in English. We are both out on deck as they do, and Juan yells back, “Si senor.”

  The boat comes close, and the man without a rifle pulls himself up on deck as the others push off and stay at the ready.

  “Buenos dias Capitan. Ustedes hablas Ingles?”

  “Yes, I speak English.” Juan looks a bit worried.

  “Good. We wish no trouble with you Captain, but I am afraid we must insist that you maintain radio silence concerning our presence here.” The dark haired man, who looks to be in fighting shape, and in his mid-thirties, demands.

  “Certainly sir. We merely were trying to get information from the Navy as to our permission to be so near one of their submarines.” Juan lies.

  “We are not with the Belize Navy. Our identification, and our purpose here must remain a mystery though.”

  “We see nothing sir.”

  The man looks me up and down, and then he seems to recognize me, unfortunately. “I have seen you before… on television. Aren’t you Professor Dorozney?”

  “Yes. Professor Victor Dorozney, at your service sir.” I extend my hand, and he shakes it, though not with much warmth in his cold seeming eyes.

  “It is an honor and a pleasure, Professor. May I ask what your business is here?”

  “We are just setting up a field experiment to take astronomical observations at the ruins of Pusilha. A bit of archeo-astronomy to hopefully validate some hypothesis.”

  “Oh? There don’t seem to be very many of you for such an endeavor.”

  “Most all of our team is already upriver at the site. I will join them in the morning. My advanced age, and poor health make the jungle a very hard place to stay for long.” I chuckle to lighten the mood. Now I recognize the man; from the video of the Aztec Treasure Hoard discoverers. My heart skips a beat. They have obviously found the hidden cypher as well, and are looking for th
e very same thing we are.

  “Pusilha huh? Well, we will not be in each other’s way then.” He chuckles back. “Our expedition is up the Rio Grande.”

  I cock my head, and ask as if out of professional curiosity, “Lubaantun?”

  He looks me in the eye, deeply, before he answers, “Yes.”

  “Oh, since you are fellow archeologists, please let us know if there is anything we can do to help you.” I smile warmly at him.

  “Why thank you Professor, if we come across anything that is beyond our expertise, we certainly will. May I extend the same offer to you and your team?”

  “Certainly. It may take us a while to even begin to analyze the date from our observations though.” I sigh.

  “If you wish to contact us, use this frequency, not the standard channels.” He pulls a note pad from his inner jacket pocket and a pencil to write the numbers down on a blank page. Then he tears it out and hands the paper to me.

  I look at the numbers, and show them to Juan, he nods.

  “Again, I apologize for the rudeness of my request, but I must insist that you do not try to contact the authorities. Our expedition is not properly permitted you see.” He grins.

  “As the good Captain had said sir, we see nothing.” I assure him.

  “Excellent. I will hope to speak with you again, perhaps for dinner some night aboard our submarine.”

  “I would like that sir.” I nod. “Though I will be upriver for most of our stay I’m afraid.”

  “Understandable Professor, as will I be so encumbered.” He signals to his boat, and they pull up to fetch him. “I wish your expedition success, Professor.” He says as he boards the small craft.

  “And yours as well, Professor.” I voice back.

  Both the Captain and I return to the bridge, and we watch the landing boat zoom back towards the submarine.

  “Not drug smugglers.” Juan states with a curious look, at me. “What do you think they are up to then?”

  I shake my head, “Most likely tomb raiders by the looks of them.”

  “That means they are just as dangerous.”

  “Perhaps, but at least they didn’t just kill us outright. That is something positive.”

  “Si Victor.” He sighs.

  I eat dinner, and retire early, knowing full well that the American team is also searching for the Library, but they are searching in the entirely wrong place. Abby’s inside information made all the difference in the world. I sure hope she is safe, and that I can thank her personally when we return.

  In the early morning hours I am again summoned to the bridge by a crewman. Fearing the worst I hurry. Captain Juan greets me and tells me that there had been a signal light communication from the submarine just a while ago.

  “It was in Morse-Code, and it is addressed to you Victor.”

  “Oh?”

  He hands me a sheet of paper. “The first two words decoded into English, but the rest of the message is either in a strange language, or I have totally decoded it incorrectly.”

  Indeed the first two words read; ‘For Victor,’ but the rest are in Russian, or a pinyin like translation of Russian anyhow. “You decoded it correctly my friend.” I chuckle.

  The Russian part reads; ‘Do not fear the American who visited you yesterday, or his team. I will make sure no harm comes to any of you. Your old friend Nicki.’

  A big smile comes to my face. Now I know that we indeed will be safe, as with Nicki watching out for us; there is nothing to fear. It is the American and his team which are in danger with Nicki on our side.

  “We can relax Juan. An old family friend is watching out for us.”

  “Oh, that is good to hear.”

  Just as the sun is rising over the distant Maya Mountains, I load into the skiff, along with the last of the gear, and much provisions divided between the three boats. Juan wishes me luck as we cast off and head towards the mouth of the Rio Moho. Once past the port town on the edge of the delta, we head up the fairly calm river. I watch as many local women wash clothes along the bank, some waving at us, so we wave back. Before we depart from here I will try to make a trip into town with the team, and enjoy some of the local cuisine, but mainly to leave some money for these obviously impoverished people. All the way up the winding river I wonder about Nicki; how did he come to be on that submarine? There is only one possible answer that I can think of; that the mutual acquaintance of ours who helped Nicki and his wife disappear from any searching eyes, the Russian mob boss who runs the whole west coast of the United States, must have requested the favor in return for his help. That means that the submarine probably belongs to him, and with Nicki aboard I know that the American Treasure hunters are definitely not in true command. This eases any remaining apprehension concerning the un-named man who threatened us on our boat. I could see a familiar coldness in his eyes, and that had worried me of course. Now I know we will have a problem with Hector though, as his first trip back to the boat when he discovers the submarine, and that we have been threatened to remain silent; will undoubtedly cause him to go into to town to report this to his Government. That would be disastrous for our true goal of finding the library. There is only one thing I can think of to do about this.

  It is a long journey, some thirty plus miles up to the ruins, and we arrive about an hour after noon. Kelly greets us on the steep banks with the whole team, to help unload all our cargo. After a brief welcome all the young students pack the remaining gear, and provisions up the bank to our camp, while Kelly helps me up the steep embankment. I’m breathing fairly hard by the time we get to the top, and after I rest to catch my breath, she starts telling me what all they have accomplished so far.

  “Last night we got some good observations of Orion rising in the east, but I haven’t sent the team up into the mountains yet. I was thinking about tomorrow for that.”

  “We have another problem I’m afraid, Kelly.”

  “Oh?”

  I nod grimly, “The Americans who had found the Aztec Treasure Hoard have shown up… in a military submarine. They boarded our boat and threatened us to keep radio silence. Not that it matters though, as they are jamming our signal anyhow.”

  “Oh shit! Are they on their way here?”

  “No. They are searching above Lubaantun.” I grin.

  “Then what is the problem?”

  “Hector. When he finds out about them, he will undoubtedly insist on going into to town to inform his government. That would spell the end of our expedition.”

  “Damn!” She shakes her head. “So, what do we do? Try to keep him in camp?”

  “There is only one thing we can do. Let’s get Hector and the entire team together.”

  “You don’t mean to take him hostage do you Victor?”

  “Certainly not! Nothing brutish my dear.”

  Once we have everyone including Hector gathered around, I spill the beans. “First I must apologize to all of you, but most especially to you Hector. We haven’t been truthful as to our true objective. A situation has arisen which forces our hand now.”

  Hector forms a scowl, “Do tell Professor!”

  I get my lap top out, and opened up to show the ancient Mayan tablet that the American’s had found with the Aztec Hoard. “Please translate this yourself if you wish, after I am done. This tells of the Library of the Ancients being hidden by the early classic Maya, as it was handed down to them by their ancestors. This alone is merely an interesting historical note, however I found a hidden cypher in the glyphs that tell exactly where this Library is located. That is why we are really here; to locate the Library.” I can see the anger rising in Hector’s eyes. “Now before you lose your temper Hector, my friend, please just hear me out.”

  He takes a deep breath, and nods to me.

  “Thank you. Now all we wish to do is to discover the location, and garner the recognition that will undoubtedly accompany this, but that is entirely up to you my friend. It is your call to make.”

  He takes a long
minute before he answers, “I suppose that you will not show me the hidden cypher unless I agree then?”

  I nod, and shrug. “It is the only leverage that we have at the moment.”

  “You said a situation had come up, what exactly is it?”

  “The American team that found the Aztec Treasure Hoard has shown up. They have a military submarine anchored several miles from our boat, and they boarded our craft with weapons, along with a threat for us to remain silent. Also they are jamming our radio as well.”

  “These armed men are on the way here then?”

  “No Hector, they are searching in the wrong location; Lubaantun.”

  “Why would they be doing that, if they managed to find the coded cypher as well?”

  “Because I have a piece of information which they do not have.”

  “So, what do you suggest that I do about all of this, my friend, Victor?”

  “I suggest that you help us find the Library, and then we can send message to your Government for help.”

  “What about the armed American’s?”

  “I have another ace up my sleeve. This morning Captain Juan had received a signal light message in Morse code; a message for me from a very trusted old family friend who is on the submarine. He promised that he would not allow the American’s to harm us.”

  “So what’s to stop us from sending for help now?”

  “Just that I would not assist you in that endeavor my friend. You have an expert team right here and now, and if you allow us; we will gladly find the Library for you. All any of us would ask for is accreditation for the discovery, as a team.”

  He ponders that again for a bit. “Let me translate the tablet before I make up my mind, if you would, Victor.”

 

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