Ghost Wolf seemed to be blind in one eye. It was foggy and he squinted out the other. The room came quiet. Cameras were rolling. Every person in this room felt this was an occasion of some reverence. There was almost a minute’s pause. It felt somewhat uncomfortable and then the MC said:
“From New Zealand to pass on a greeting from the Maori tribes to their indigenous brothers, Professor Pedro Carlos.”
About to step forward and still planning how he would pitch what he wanted from them, David never got the chance. Stepping right in front of the cameras with his microphone was Brian Altin who spoke first.
“Revered Chiefs, forgive me this interruption. I am Brian Altin of NBC. These people are not who they say they are. His name is David Clark and he is a treasure hunter and this woman is Abigail Beckingsale, a known assassin and ex militia, who has taken the lives of many indigenous tribal leaders in Africa. Guards!” he yelled.
Cameras spun to David, who was not quick enough. Abbey was, she moved fast and spun covering her face from the camera’s prying eyes. The security around both chiefs shielded them and had drawn weapons. The place looked like a Mexican standoff, yet one side had not drawn a weapon.
“What do you have to say for yourself Mr Clark, you impostor? Whose life are you here to take today?” Altin beamed as he spoke in a melodramatic tone. He had played out John’s ingenious plan. Instead of killing them, he would discredit them. Even with cameras on, they could say nothing that could tell the world why they were there. They were impostors and they had been disclosed to the world. It was a tremendous play by John. Discrediting them in front of the world, showing their faces and as such stopping them getting vital information or being taken seriously. They could produce the document signed by Constantine right now with the lineage of Christ and still no one would believe them. It was over.
David was speechless and just stood there, trying not to make any moves. Abbey stood facing the wall, her face hidden from the cameras, yet her hands held high so security would know she was not a threat.
A long time passed. Cameras rolled and everyone waited for silence to break. Then it did.
Pushing out from behind a guard was Chief Ghost Wolf. He squinted directly at David and the media person.
“I’ve been shot at by plenty of white people in my ninety-two years on Earth, but none has been a New Zealander. In fact you’re only the second I have met and the other was a wonderful man. Turn those cameras off.” Ghost Wolf had found a voice.
“But, but,” said Altin stumbling, and not expecting this.
“Be quiet, young squaw.” The younger Lone Bear directed the insult right at Altin. “I have never liked you media types and for certain for you to interrupt lets me know things aren’t as you say they are. Take their tapes and disc drives, gentlemen.” Lone Bear nodded at his guards.
“You can’t do that,” said Altin. “We have rights as the press.”
“General Custer thought that too,” said Ghost Wolf enjoying his thumbing at the American establishment. The cameramen started handing over tapes. Most of them had grown up watching Westerns and knew these old Indians weren’t about to muck around. Ghost Wolf then turned his attention to Abbey.
“You can turn around now, Miss. Hell I may even be able to see your face, if I squint a little more. What are you carrying?”
Abbey turned and stepped forward to the Chief.
“It’s just a little gun, for shooting the appendages off media who are too big for their boots, that’s all.” David swore that smile must have saved her ass with some of the most powerful and brutal men on the planet. With the ninety-something year-old Indian, he almost thought he saw Ghost Wolf ’s heart flutter.
“You keep it, Miss. I’m certain you didn’t bring it for us, but you both have come a long way and these folk sure are interested in you. You better escort me to a secure room. Old Lone Bear wasn’t given that name for nothing and he and I have a lot of talking to do. Firstly we’d like to hear why everyone here wants to stop our historic meeting. You and your man better come and tell us why.”
Lone Bear indicated to his team to put the media in a room, confiscate their cell phones and communications equipment and await further orders. The room had a bar so most of the media was happy. Altin was fuming. His name was now on a list of failures and the family did not like that.
24
David and Abbey were led into the meeting room. Already there were various elders seated. No one looked that surprised to see them. They were ushered to sit in the circle and served a cool drink. No one even checked Abbey’s gun. She was still with it.
David smiled as he looked around. He felt strangely at home. Lone Bear and Ghost Wolf were whispering quietly. Lone Bear spoke first. David realised what a chief should sound like. He had the timbre of knowledge and wisdom within his voice. Only in his late forties, he was a commanding presence.
“Brothers, this is a time of great change. Our Mayan brothers predicted this change for centuries. It is here. Before we start on this momentous meeting, you have already seen how the establishment will work against us now. They send their children as they are scared. Their elders are finished. They live in fear. It is now that is our turn to stand, for everything that is right, to re-establish the great buffalo runs in this century and to morph as we have done before. Before we start today’s proceedings we wish to listen to two new friends of the tribes. They have come a long way and I am certain their message is important, but first my fathers beloved friend Ghost Wolf wishes to read from the Hopi.”
Ghost Wolf stood and was acknowledged.
He began to speak and the room was silent.
“You have been telling the people that this is the eleventh hour, now you must go back and tell the people that this is the hour. And there are things to be considered . . .
“Where are you living? What are you doing? What are your relationships? Are you in right relation? Where is your water? Know your garden. It is time to speak your truth. Create your community. Be good to each other. And do not look outside yourself for the leader.”
Then he clasped his hands together, smiled, and said, “This could be a good time!
“There is a river flowing now very fast. It is so great and swift that there are those who will be afraid. They will try to hold on to the shore. They will feel they are torn apart and will suffer greatly.
“Know the river has its destination. The elders say we must let go of the shore, push off into the middle of the river, keep our eyes open, and our heads above water. And I say, see who is in there with you and celebrate. At this time in history, we are to take nothing personally, least of all ourselves. For the moment that we do, our spiritual growth and journey comes to a halt.
“The time for the lone wolf is over. Gather yourselves! Banish the word ‘struggle’ from your attitude and your vocabulary. All that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration.
“We are the ones we’ve been waiting for.”*
The room acknowledged him.
It was then indicated that David should speak.
David stood and looked around the circle.
“Good day esteemed leaders, great chiefs and wise council. My name is David Clark. I am from New Zealand. This is Abigail Beckingsale from South Africa. We have been on a journey, a quest of sorts… for truth. We have been shot at and friends murdered by those with power who want our message quietened. You have seen how they try to discredit us. We flew here from Cusco in Peru to be with you not to acknowledge this day. We did not need to come to do that. We came to ask you a question and it seems this time is the time in history to ask, be heard and be answered for the good of all mankind and to relieve us of the greatest scam we have faced in our known history.”
Abbey looked at David with pride. He sure could pitch when he put his mind to it.
“Ask your question, Mr Clark,” said Lone Bear.
David gathered his thoughts for a moment and cleared his throat. He looked around t
he room. He had the attention of the elders.
“We are aware of the DNA in the Chippewa that is Minoan of nature and we are aware of the Templar Knights that lived among the peoples of the north seven hundred years ago. We know about the runes and the hooked X. Our quest is to find its current incumbent and bring it to the attention of the world. We have been shrouded in darkness for two thousand years. It’s enough. The truth needs to come out… Will you help us?”
David went quiet. There had been no reaction from the room. No one spoke or looked at each other. Then one man broke the pregnant silence.
“It’s myth. It doesn’t exist.”
Everyone looked at the man. He was Chief Brown Child from another Minnesota tribe. He was a man in his sixties. David held his gaze resolute. Again it was the 92-year-old Ghost Wolf who spoke up.
“I like these people. They make waves and waves create life. Tell them, Chief Lone Bear.”
Lone Bear stood and addressed David.
“It is true.” Individuals in the group began to look around and murmur. It was obvious to Abbey even the chiefs had been told otherwise. Lone Bear went on.
“My father had been party to the tests. He had the DNA of the Minoans, which means I do as well. He was the only one. The university of Nova Scotia has some of the best DNA laboratories in the world. He agreed to the tests, but in his heart he knew. He had visions of great ships and the smell of the forge all his life. Not long after he was found to be of Minoan decent he was killed. My tribe blamed you, Chief Ghost Wolf. It is the time when both you and I received these names. I knew you and my father argued a lot, about the past, our legacy, our rights. But in my heart I knew it was the white man that was responsible although they did a good job of framing you. Yet you were never arrested. That evidence was not there. That’s when your tribe called you Ghost Wolf, he who hunts as a ghost. It was an honour for you. I became the Lone Bear, foraging out a life for my people on these desolate shores. I am sorry, Chief Ghost Wolf. I was a young man. My ego would not let me understand the truth, which is why I invited you here today. It has taken me many years to understand the lies I have been told and why I was so wrong in my judgement of you. I knew in my heart if we united and I backed down, that all the tribes would unite. Yet I could not. My ego so wanted to blame you for my father’s death.”
“It is fine,” the old man said. “It just makes today all the more powerful.”
Lone Bear turned back to David and continued. “I have always known of the runes, like the one in the lake just several hundred yards from here. Some of our tribe were even said to have spoken Greek, but that was stopped many years before the birth of my grandfather through fear of the white man. We knew these knights existed and lived as one with our people, but there are many tribes of Lake Superior not just mine and it is very mingled these days. I have heard the story of the chosen one, that which the knights protected all those years, but they left. I know nothing more. I am afraid I can only offer you a dead end.”
Ghost Wolf spoke up in his quiet raspy manner. At ninty-two he had found energy this day. Old Indians were like that.
“My young friends. It is all in the prophecy. Everything is in the prophecy. It’s been etched on the rock for a thousand years.”
David’s ears pricked up. He had known about the Hopi Prophecy and had even studied it, but he never made a connection between that and the son of God.
“I’m sorry chief… there is a clue in the prophecy rock?”
Carved into a stone in the middle of the desert in Hopi lands is a very normal looking rock. This rock, as David had studied contained the Hopi’s main gift to the world and especially the post-2012 equation.
The rock showed a man standing at the bottom of a rope. The first sign of the Hopi is the coming to an end of the rule of the white skinned race. The second sign is that of wagons coming across the land. The third sign foresees cattle overrunning the land. The fourth is that the land would be crossed by snakes of iron (railroads). The fifth sign is that the land will be crossed by a giant web (phone and telecommunications). The sixth is that the land will be criss-crossed with rivers of stone (roads). With the seventh sign the sea will turn black and things will die because of it (Industrialism) The eighth sign is about longhaired youth joining the ways of the Indians (the New Age revolution). The dwelling in heaven will fall with an almighty crash.
“Of course,” David said, rationalising what he knew of the signs: “The ninth sign is the fall of the Church.”
Ghost Wolf smiled and said, “You know the prophecy. I told you I liked New Zealanders.” The room laughed and then Ghost Wolf continued: “But David (if I may call you that), to bring the heavens down you must find the blue tripartite. It is the blue tripartite that will guide you.”
David looked at Abbey and back to the men.
“Do you know of the lineage, Chief?”
“No… I do not. But have faith. Find the blue tripartite. I know it lies there. I see it in my visions.”
Lone Bear spoke up.
“Mr Clark, thank you both for making this journey. It is obvious to me what we must do. We must make an announcement to the press of all of the tribes coming together. We must lead them away from the focus on you. We will say we believed you, but know nothing. They will believe us. In fact we do know little. You must go. My people will have the ferry take you, before the others; they can wait another several hours. By then you will be long gone. We will retire and complete a vision quest. It may last several days, but this is the way we can help you. Our spirits of our ancestors will help you find the truth. Good luck.”
With that they were shown to the door, acknowledged by the chiefs. They had a clue. It was true, thought David. It was in the prophecy. He explained to Abbey how at the end of the picture there are four people holding hands, legs wide apart like they are balancing. If they chose to go down, to the old path they will find corn, in other words sustenance. If they continue as they are the road becomes very bumpy. David felt this was the battle between new age sustainable living in harmony and the system of greed that most of us were brought up in.
Some fifteen minutes later, David and Abbey stepped onto the boat and it took off quickly, the assistants waving farewell from the shores.
The boat cleared the docks and harbour as David and Abbey stood at the rear of the boat waving to those on the shore and contemplating what they had just witnessed in the meeting. The boat headed out into the main part of the lake and away from the island. Above them a grey blue sky hinted at the changing seasons of this part of the world.
David smiled at Abbey. Again they were free and at least they had some guidance even if it was a cryptic clue. Brian Altin and his cohorts had failed in their attempt to discredit them on national television. David guessed they were still locked in the bar. He grabbed Abbey and went to kiss her passionately. She drew away.
Confused David looked at her. She winked back.
“Let’s leave that for now. I’m pretty sure the captain of this boat is not the actual captain.”
“How do you know that?”
“Oh probably because he’s standing at the wheel staring at you holding an axe.”
*http://soundofheart.org/galacticfreepress/content/hopi-elder-speaks-moment-has-come
25
Rocko Rizotto stood with concierge outside the Waldorf at 6pm with a hotel car waiting. He couldn’t work out if he was annoyed at Stacey for being a little late or because his balls were itchy in the suit pants and there was no way he could scratch them in public at that stage.
Stacey emerged from the door and Rocko nearly dropped his room key. Dressed in a tight fitting chiffon dress that hugged her body and was tastefully clingy, yet leaving the imagination going wild, Stacey looked great for a mother of two children that worked as hard as she did. It was her nature not to do anything by halves and health was certainly one of those things. She looked ten years younger and heads turned all around her. The concierge immediately opened the ca
r door and Stacey stepped gracefully into the limo. The door shut and the car pulled into the traffic bound for the New York Museum.
“Wow, Stacey – you look amazing tonight,” said Rocko beaming.
Blushing Stacey replied. “Why thank you Mr Rizotto, you don’t scrub up bad yourself.”
“Damn suits itchy though,” Rocko said, and with that shoved his hand down the front of his pants and started hankering away at the itch.
“Jesus Rocko… one compliment and you manage to break it in less than five seconds…. That’s gross.”
“Oh let it roll, Stace… you can have a scratch too if you want. I won’t look…much.” He smirked and Stacey thought it wise to change the subject.
“I’m surprised we haven’t heard from David,” she said, looking at a tramp on Park Avenue.
“Aw, he’s probably outta range if you know what I mean,” gleamed Rocko.
“Humph. I don’t think so. He’s normally good; maybe there is no comms on the island. It is pretty remote.”
“Oh well let’s go eat some decent caviar, Stace, and have some cocktails. If Leon organised this it will be a good gig for sure.”
The car sped uptown and through the park toward the museum.
* * *
Leon Gills was a little nervous. Chant had asked him to ensure the bank sponsored the new Ancient Civilizations wing of the museum. Private collectors had donated some pretty amazing pieces, especially one Mr Black, an enigma of a man to the curator of the museum. Black had donated some pieces that came out of Sumeria in the 1930s, well before the wars in Iraq as that country was called now. These Sumerian pieces talked about the great sky gods, the Annunaki, and their wisdom, which reseeded the Earth. The curator was amazed at the pieces that he didn’t even know existed. Gills himself didn’t have much time for “all this old crap,” as he called it. His role was to show the bank as caring for the past. He knew Chant himself would be there to oversee things and his nerves were on edge. He’d had two Champagnes already to try and break the shakes.
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