Unearthly Power

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Unearthly Power Page 9

by R. K.


  “Wake up! Get up!” he said as he alternately hit one side of his face and then the other. “Captain Rylan, wake up!”

  After a series of endless blows, Sean slowly came out of his stupor. “Wha . . .?”

  “Get up now! Wake up! They have my daughter. They took your sister!”

  That last statement did more to bring him to his senses than anything else. “Who took Dee?” he asked as he tried to shake his head clear from the heavy fog that clouded his mind.

  “Marcel. He and his men left. They took the girls with them. If we don’t get out of here we will die!”

  “What are you talking about?” Sean asked, listening to the man on the floor next to him, as he looked around the rest of the room to get his bearings.

  “There’s no time,” he said before he gave in to a fit of coughing, “We need to go. If we stay, we die.”

  Sean looked at the professor as if seeing him for the first time, saw blood on his hands, and then recognized Alex passed out on the table up above them. He struggled to his feet and fought off a wave of dizziness. When that was under control he heard the professor say, “Do you have a life boat? I didn’t see any on board. Marcel said something about explosives. We need to leave now!”

  Though Sean heard every last word he still struggled to process the information. He knew something was terribly wrong and vaguely felt that he needed to do something soon. He decided to do as he was told until he could figure it out for himself. He half-walked and half-staggered into the wheelhouse. He saw the damaged radio and noticed that the keys were gone. He turned to go back through the passageway to the rear of the boat. The professor was still calling out to him but he wasn’t paying attention to what was being said. He remembered something being mentioned about a lifeboat, so he went to one of the large equipment lockers and removed a deflated rubber raft. The weight of it almost caused him to sink to the deck as he maneuvered it to the side of the boat. He spun it around to find the inflation cord and pushed it over the side. By the time it hit the water the cord triggered the Co2 charge and the raft was soon fully inflated. He tied off the end of the cord he held in his hand and stumbled back to the galley.

  The professor had moved himself back out into the passageway by this time. He reached over and helped him to his feet hoping they would both remain upright as they fought against their weaknesses and the movement of the boat itself. When they reached the rail, Sean opened the section they had fabricated to allow the submersible to be brought on board. It was only a few feet to the raft. When he judged the motion of the waves to be at their lowest point between the two, he pushed the professor in. He heard him suppress a scream and then moan as he landed face down in the small craft. Sean ignored it as he turned to get Alex.

  His strength was improving, but it was necessary for him to focus on keeping the nausea he was experiencing under control. He slid next to Alex’s side and moved the chair so that he could lift him in a fireman’s carry. It was easier this way and he soon had him in position to toss him over the side as he had done with the professor. When he looked down, he saw that Professor James had righted himself in the small raft and decided to lower Alex more gently so as not to add further injury to either of them. He lowered him to the side and swung his legs over the water. Once they held to the inside of the raft, he slid the rest of his body in as gently as he could while being at least marginally aided by the professor. As he was about to lower himself into the raft the professor said, “No. You need to get the staff. Also, I have a satellite communicator in my room under my pillow. Get them both.”

  Thinking the old man was out of his mind, Sean stood there and stared in disbelief.

  Knowing he had to say something more Professor James added, “If you want to see your sister again, get them both. At least get the staff. Trust me.”

  Not being able to formulate a logical argument, Sean turned and walked back toward the staterooms. He went into his first and picked up the wooden rod. As soon as he did he felt the strange energy that seemed to flow through it. His mind cleared and his body felt rejuvenated. Having no time to dwell on this he then turned toward the professor’s room. He found the satellite phone, or communicator, as the professor called it, and then turned to leave. He stopped for a moment as he saw the remnants of Tori’s clothing on her side of the room. He could still smell her scent linger in the air. He brushed the thought aside and left. When he made it back to the raft he saw one small plastic paddle next to the equipment locker. He decided it was enough and lowered himself into the boat with everything he gathered in hand.

  “Hurry, I think they said they had twenty minutes to get away from here. I don’t know how much of that time is left,” Professor James said with a weakened voice.

  With renewed strength, Sean placed the phone and wooden rod on the inside of the raft next to his leg. He undid the line that held them to the boat and started to paddle away. He alternated his strokes to keep from going in a circle. It seemed to both him and the professor that they were making little to no headway, as if they were moving in slow motion. Sean could see fear mixed with pain in the professor’s eyes.

  Once he relaxed from his flow of adrenaline, Sean started to judge the rhythm of the shallow waves and used it to his advantage in putting distance between them and the boat. Without warning, the Cantankerous II, the center of what was tied to much of his professional and personal relationships with his best friend and sister, disappeared in a bright explosion as the shock waves reached out to rock their small craft, nearly capsizing it in the process. Two smaller sympathetic explosions followed, but they were soon muted by the water rushing in to fully consume the vessel.

  Sean quit rowing and laid his head back as the exhaustion of the previous ten minutes overwhelmed him. When he opened his eyes they were focused on the professor. He sat there with his eyes half closed and looked as if he had no energy. Sean noticed the blood stains on his hands earlier, but saw no wounds to indicate where it had come from. He assumed that whatever had happened to him and Alex also happened to the professor. They had obviously been drugged. That thought presented more questions than answers, why being the most significant.

  “What the hell is going on, Professor?”

  At the question he opened his eyes to return the stare that was cast upon him. There was no longer any reason for subterfuge. “It’s a long story. One that goes back long before any of us was born.” He began before being interrupted.

  “How about skipping to the part about what just happened on the boat and where Dee and Tori are?”

  Kirby James did his best to put on a slight smile, not in happiness, but as the only one present who had the whole story; the story that no more than two people knew. “Indulge me. I think we will be out here for a while and someone needs to hear this. Trust me. It is only with this knowledge that you will be able to save your sister and my daughter.”

  Realizing that there was literally nothing else they could do at the moment he said, “Okay, tell me the story.”

  He paused as if in deciding where he should start. Once it was settled in his mind he began. “You may have heard stories about the Knights Templar. While there are many embellishments about the scope of their activities, they actually existed in name only for approximately two centuries. Similar unnamed organizations existed before them, while others took up the cause following their demise down until this day. In both instances, distrust between the organizations, the heads of the Church and the heads of State led to recriminations, imprisonments, and changes in leadership, whether in government or in the Church. Since these organizations were born from the Church, that was where their first loyalty rested—unless, of course, they perceived the Church leaders themselves as a threat. They were kept on a very tight leash as time went on, with money playing a significant role in that control.

  “One of the offshoots of this tradition was called The Order of Christ. They originated in Portugal in the early thirteen hundreds. The reason I mention that p
articular group is because it is what brought us to you and then brought us here.”

  He looked to see that he still had Sean’s attention and paused to take a much needed breath before continuing. The pain was becoming more bearable as he was held in place between the side of the raft and the unconscious Alex. “When General Titus sacked the city of Jerusalem in 70 C.E. he also destroyed the Temple. Before he did it, however, the Roman Legions removed all of its treasures. One of the treasures was the Ark of the Covenant.”

  “I’ve heard of it.” Sean said.

  The professor smiled and said, “While different historical accounts relay different versions of what actually happened to the ark, it was in fact taken under guard to Rome by people who would eventually comprise the religious orders I mentioned before. They did this with the blessing of the Roman Emperor. This ark, and many other religious relics and treasures obtained through various conquests, remained under the control of the Roman Empire until the birth of the Roman Catholic Church. During the time of the Northern Renaissance in the mid-fourteen hundreds, the influence of challenges to the ecclesiastical structure of the Church were beginning to build momentum, eventually leading to the events of the Reformation. During this time of challenge, loyalists to the Church smuggled the ark out of Rome in fear of it falling into the wrong hands. I doubt that their fears were justified, but apparently there were enough highly placed officials within their organization who were able to accomplish just that. They transported the ark to Portugal where it remained under the protection of the Order of Christ for approximately thirty-seven years.

  “A corrupt Bishop falsely claimed authority to relocate the ark once again. He enlisted members of the Order to steal the ark and place it on a ship he claimed was destined for Rome. That ship was not going to Rome. It was an unregistered ship carrying whores, stolen treasure and as its last and most valuable cargo, the Ark of the Covenant. The ship was named the Ay Papi. It joined up with three other ships in the Canary Islands heading west in 1492.”

  “Columbus?” Sean asked. “You mean Columbus brought the Ark of the Covenant to America? What for? Why would this Bishop, whoever he was, want to risk sending it god knows where?”

  “No. He didn’t command this ship nor did he know of its contents, other than possibly the whores. What the Bishop had in mind nobody knows. Please let me finish,” he said before having to once again draw in a deep breath.

  Sean could see that he was in a lot of pain and figured the likelihood of his survival out here was minimal in their present circumstances. He waited patiently in anticipation of anything he could learn that could possibly explain what had happened to them and where his sister now was.

  “Approximately two days before this small fleet landed on the islands of what we now call the Bahamas, they reported an unexplained explosion on the Ay Papi. The ship went down and there were no reports of survivors. The contents and the occupants of the ship were lost at sea.”

  Sean looked as if he were running calculations in his head before replying, “That would put us roughly at the same distance we are from Nassau now; considering they probably went anywhere from six to eight knots under sail.”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re saying we came out to retrieve the Ark of the Covenant?” he asked incredulously.

  “Yes”

  “But there was no ark down there; at least none that we saw.”

  “They found it. After they drugged you they returned for it. Once they had it there was no longer any use for you.”

  Sean stared at him as his mind processed what he was being told. “You must have been in on it. You didn’t drink any of the wine if I remember correctly.”

  Professor James gave a deep sigh and remarked, “Yes, but only to a point. The man who contacted me about this expedition is Silas Chandler. I have worked for him in the past, but mostly I just provided research on topics he was interested in at the time. He is a very rich and powerful man. I never gave much thought to his real desires at the beginning. He was the one who read about your claim of finding a wreck in this area. He has been searching for the ark for a very long time.”

  “You didn’t include your ‘only to a point’ explanation.”

  “I agreed to come along for two reasons. One: to spend time with my daughter who I see so very little of these days. And two: to have the chance at discovering some simple treasure. I never dreamed of finding the actual lost ark.”

  “But you just told me the story. How is it that you seem to know things about this that are unlikely to be recorded anywhere people in the general public could find? We’re not talking about a few decades here; you are relating events spanning . . .” Sean paused while he subtracted the numbers in his head, “about fourteen-hundred and twenty-two years.”

  Professor James was getting weaker as he continued to lose blood. As the night grew darker, neither man could see the color of the small quantity of water in the rubber boat. They could still see each other’s faces as the reflected light of the full moon cast back its glow off of the surface of the water. He decided there was no reason to hold anything back. He doubted he would live to see the morning.

  “I am a member of the Order of Christ. The stories told to me were passed down through my family. That is one reason we have always studied in the fields of history and archaeology; in the hopes of one day recovering that which we are responsible for losing.”

  Sean wasn’t quite sure if he believed everything he was being told, but he did conclude that the professor believed it; and more importantly, that the man responsible for all of this did too.

  “So now what? This Chandler guy has the ark, has my sister, has your daughter, and tried to or maybe has succeeded in killing us. Time will only tell on that last one.”

  “No. You have the key to all of it.”

  Sean looked at him waiting for the rest of the statement. At the moment he had three things: a paddle, a phone, and a wooden rod.

  “The staff: it is the Rod of Aaron. It can give a man the ability to control the power of God according to his will.”

  “You mean like the Bible Aaron?” he asked awkwardly.

  “Yes. Without it he cannot open the ark.”

  “So why didn’t his goons take it with them?” He wondered out loud.

  “They didn’t know about it. The only thing they were told to retrieve was the ark itself. I realized that after they needed me to make sure that it was in fact the ark. I never said anything to them about the rod because I knew something was wrong. The satellite communicator I had you bring was how I kept in touch with Mr. Chandler. It can send and retrieve text communications from anywhere in the world. It was safer to use that than any form of voice communication. I found out later that Marcel and his men had a phone in which they too were relaying messages to Mr. Chandler.”

  “Okay, I have the rod, but how will he know that?” He said before thinking about it. But before the professor responded, he reached down and flipped the cover off of the device that looked like any ordinary cell phone. It was powered on, “with this!”

  “Yes.” Professor James said in a shallow voice. His head was starting to lean to the side as he lost more of his strength.

  Sean was trying to put together everything that had happened, everything that had been said and everything that hadn’t been said, in his mind before he asked, “Why didn’t you leave with them? Why are you here with us?”

  With no small amount of effort, Professor James straightened his head and said, “When they drugged you with the wine I knew something was not right. I saw it happening but was powerless to do anything after the fact. I am not a drinker myself, but they probably thought nothing of it as I posed no real threat to them. It was painful to think of what might happen to my daughter and to remember that I am responsible for bringing her into this. When they spoke of getting rid of you by using explosives on your boat I could not stand by without doing anything. Evidently, they were already instructed on how to deal with me
in that event as I was as dispensable as you were.”

  “What will they do with the girls?”

  “Silas Chandler will do whatever he wants to do whenever he wants to do it.”

  “That isn’t much of an answer,” Sean challenged.

  “It is more of an answer than you think. Mr. Chandler does not live in the same world as you and I. He can do whatever he wants. National borders, laws, governances and regulations mean nothing to him.”

  “How is it I have never heard of him if he is so eminent?”

  “Have you ever heard of Chandler Holdings Global?”

  After thinking for a second he answered, “Yes.”

  “Well, that is him. But, it is only a front: a way to identify with the rest of the world. There are other people like him who hold so much power and money that they function on a different plane of society. They are untouchable by any common means.”

  “How do you know so much about him if you’ve only provided him a few minor services?”

  “The Order knows about him.”

  “You’ve reported your involvement with him because of this expedition?”

  “No. I reported about him ever since he first made contact with me. I continued to add whatever was necessary as time went on.”

  “Professor,” Sean said as he sat back trying to relax in what little room he had, “I don’t mean to offend you, but much of what you have told me seems a bit far-fetched.”

  “It doesn’t matter what you think. You will either have to believe it or not. I would say ‘have faith’ but I don’t think it would mean much to you right now. The bottom line is that Silas Chandler must never come into possession of Aaron’s Rod. I don’t care what has to be done, what price has to be paid, he must not get his hands on the rod. You must promise me that,” he said as he leaned forward with great effort even though it was a struggle to see each other’s eyes in the darkness that was upon them.

 

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