Truthseekers

by Mike Handcock

  Stacey had stopped typing. The clickety clack had ceased. It had become a soothing rhythm to the unfolding of their conversation and now the individuals in the room looked across at her. Her mouth was open and she was fixed to the screen.

  “What is it, Stace?” Rocko asked first

  Stacey took a deep breath and looked up from her screen

  “It’s Chief Ghost Wolf. He’s been murdered while giving a speech.”

  31

  David immediately found the remote for the TV and in an instant the big 55-inch LCD had come alive and he was scanning the channels. It didn’t take long and he was on one of the news stations that broadcast 24-hour news from all over the globe. The announcer was saying that 92-year-old Chief Ghost Wolf, one of the most sacred elders of the Hopi tribe, had been gunned down while giving a speech a few hours earlier at the second day of meetings of the tribes on an island in Lake Superior near the Canadian border. Viewers were warned to use their discretion as the following footage was violent.

  The screen clicked over to a frail but empowered Ghost Wolf.

  “People of the nations. We have long been disassociated from our friends the Chippewa yet today is a pivotal day in the history of the tribes. Many years ago I was ostracised and blamed for things I did not do. The result was that we separated and through this separation a great kindred was lost for over twenty years. It is only now that I have discussed with Lone Bear, great Chief of the Chippewa, that which passed. I will now release a knowledge that affects all mankind the world over. It is something that I have known about and held in the strictest of sacred confidence of my ancestors my whole life. Today I am going to share with the world what that information is.”

  At that a shot was fired and Ghost Wolf clutched his chest. You could see the old man thrown back with the inertia, yet with a sense of calm on his face as if he knew. The whole episode was so current for Stacey and the others, with different angles, close-ups, slow and almost static motion. It was all David could do not to turn the television off, yet he had to know what had happened. Finally the screen went blank. The reporter then came back on.

  “Chief Ghost Wolf died immediately at the scene and three men were taken into custody. All three were reporters covering the event.” The team didn’t need to know any more. The screen showed a clip of Brian Altin and two others familiar to Abbey and David in handcuffs.

  “Shit,” said Abbey. “I should have fed them to the fish.”

  “You know these men?” Rocko was up on his feet starting to pace

  “We do.” David stood as well. “These were the ones that attacked us. Brian Altin was one of them and he’s connected to one of the families. I must call Lone Bear.”

  Abbey went to the window and stared out at the bustle of Park Avenue below. She had failed. She didn’t think they were that dangerous, just boffins. Where did they get the gun? she wondered. David had his hand on her shoulder. Stacey was busy getting David the phone number of Lone Bear. Rocko paced the room stretching and seeing what his body could do, despite the wound. Phillip remained seated and looked across at Stacey with a half smile on his face trying to be cheery.

  The news story was still being played in the background. Stacey noticed the shot of Chief Ghost Wolf ’s body, now under a sheet being taken by his tribe down the stairs. It was as his arm fell out the side of the gurney she said out loud. “Oh my God… David, look.”

  David and the others turned to the television. There on the inside of Ghost Wolf ’s deceased wrist was an antique tattoo – the hooked X.

  David squinted to see if there was anything else. “Stacey, I need Lone Bear’s number now.”

  Shortly after David had the number, which he dialled from one of the secure phones. Lone Bear picked up almost immediately.

  “Chief Lone Bear, it’s David Clark. I am calling to…” It was no use, Lone Bear had simply started speaking.

  “David, I can’t talk now. Meet me in Heraklion in two days.” He hung up.

  David looked perplexed. Abbey by now had a hand on his shoulder. “What’s up?”

  David turned and looked blankly at the group. “We are going to Crete.”

  In an office across town William Chant III’s phone was ringing. He was considering not picking up. He knew it was Black, the head of all of the families. Reluctantly his hand went to the receiver. Black was the only one who had a direct line to him that bypassed the secretary.

  “Mr Black…” Chant said simply into the microphone

  “I take it you failed again, Chant. Have you seen the news? Brian Altin was arrested carrying out your instructions. That is enough of a mess I have to clean up, Chant. Did you see that Indian’s wrist? He bears the X.”

  Chant decided to ignore all acknowledgement of the dubious instructions he gave Altin who was not equipped to carry them out, although it wasn’t him pulling the trigger. His right arm was useless presently thanks to Abbey’s bullet.

  “I have, Mr Black. I have had my people researching all photos of him on record. He always had his arms covered… until today.”

  With that there was a buzz on his phone.

  “Mr Black, please excuse me. I may be receiving more news. Just one second.”

  Quickly, before Black could protest, he picked up the other line. It had been years since he had needed to multi task or even think at this level. He felt a sudden wave of tiredness come over his body and felt all of his elder years. John’s voice snapped him out of it.

  “Mr Chant, Sir, we have our intel confirming the other chief… Lone Bear. We have a shot of his arm. It contains the same tattoo. The X. There is some relation between the old dead Indian and this chief who has the voice of the people and the tribes. But that is not all…”

  “Go on, John…” said Chant wondering how much more confusion there would be.

  “Lone Bear’s people have just booked him a business class airfare all the way to Heraklion in Crete. He leaves in a few hours.”

  “Stand by for instructions and have our European team gear up John.”

  Chant hung up the phone from John and reconnected to Black.

  “My sources have another tattoo, on Chief Lone Bear of the Chippewa, and he is immediately heading to Crete in the Greek islands. I don’t know why, but…”

  Black cut Chant off with a coldness that sent a shiver through the deputy’s mind.

  “That must be where he is. They are going to expose him…. The current bloodline. That is what their conference was about. The old man must have known and he has told Lone Bear.”

  Chant’s hair bristled at the thought.

  “Chant, you have done nothing except create this mess. Now you must clean it up. You must go to Crete immediately and personally stop this. Use whatever force you need. Start a war if you have to. This information must never come out. If it does so, what we have that is so precious will crack and fall. We and the Church will be exposed. If you fail you will die, or go to jail. It is up to you personally. Do you understand?”

  “Yes I do, Mr Black,” said Chant nervously. “But, Sir…” he had not called Black that in many years “I am too old to be in the front line. I fear I may…”

  Black cut him off. “Chant, the whole of what we have now rests with you. Drop a nuke on the damn island and put yourself in the middle. You must finish this and at least you will be forever remembered by history. Now go, we have resources everywhere. It’s one damn Indian for god’s sake.”

  With that Black hung up. The problem was that, as Chant knew, it wasn’t one damn Indian. It was also a very sexy blonde girl who was a match for any militia and a bunch of meddlesome people who seemed to have the luck on their side. Chant knew he was going to Crete. He just prayed he would be coming home again.

  32

  The Learjet left New York two hours later with Abbey firmly at the controls. Its first stop was northern Scotland for a refuel, and then off to Crete. David had been researching the wave of material that Stacey had created for him. As he was
looking back over the photos taken in the museum he noticed he had missed something that was now so obvious. The Triskelion or the blue tripartite as it was called by Chief Ghost Wolf was part of a huge display. David before had focused on the sun with the thirteen yet now he was seeing something he had completely discarded before. He knew he was only human, but he wondered why energy flows only where focus goes. Beneath the kings was a city, that city was a type of labyrinth, and in the harbour there were twelve boats. One boat was dry docked, a thirteenth. He hadn’t paid much attention to these boats. Also in the sky was the sign of Pisces and Aquarius.

  Now that he was thinking more broadly, the sky was depicting the shift between Pisces and Aquarius, which was the present time. The twelve boats David now clearly recognised as Minoan. The thirteenth was the most salubrious of all the boats yet it was on the land, dry docked in the city with the labyrinth. David had realised and explained to the others what he had missed.

  “This means the one, the holder, is to be dry docked at the city with the labyrinth on the change from Pisces to Aquarius. The bloodline – it is in Crete, folks. The labyrinth is the home of the Minotaur, an ancient beast who lived in Minoan Crete. That’s why we are heading there. There will be someone who knows about this and we must find them. Lone Bear will be at risk. If we can work this out, those from the darkness will also be able to work this out. We will surely have company.”

  Phillip Glenville, also on board the Learjet and never too far away from Stacey, chipped in. “That’s why I had this baby loaded with a few weapons from some of my buddies in the martial arts world. We only had a short time, but luckily I live in America, the land of the free. I’ve got some pretty reasonable firepower on board.”

  Rocko looked up from staring out the window somewhere over the Atlantic and said: “Awww crap, Glenville, I may actually be starting to like you.”

  Stacey chimed in with: “Get in line, Rizotto.” A big smile came across the big guy’s face. It was good to see her happy. Rocko only hoped she and the others would make it through this ordeal. He wasn’t at 100%, but he’d played sports with stitches before and he could play through the pain for a game, so he hoped the ten years in age since those days hadn’t slowed him down much.

  David was pretty clear in his own mind. The current incumbent of the bloodline of Jesus Christ and Mary Magdalene was in Crete. Lone Bear knew something about it, although given the Templars’ involvement he wasn’t sure what. The characters that had attacked them constantly were there to protect the world from the truth that would bring down the Church and possibly the families that have control and they would no doubt be in Crete. In many ways he was glad they had made a hasty exit, save being stopped at the airport or blown out of the sky over US territory. Now they had the biggest mission of all of their lives and really didn’t know what to expect. He did notice that even Rizotto, his old buddy and business partner of many years, wasn’t drinking the free booze on board. He was just looking out the window. That worried him. Stacey and Phillip were chatting quietly so he decided to return to the cockpit, where Abbey was monitoring the instruments for any other planes or odd things in their sector.

  He sat down in the co-pilot’s seat.

  “You look like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders, my love,” she said and curled that lip up in the smile that made David feel weak at the knees.

  “I guess we all do in some way, Abbey,” he said flatly.

  “Look on the bright side,” she smiled back.

  “What?” he said.

  “We get to have a holiday in the Greek islands. Not too many couples do that in their first few weeks together.”

  He looked across at Abbey’s broad smile and her cheekiness and he just laughed out loud, she started laughing too. They spurred each other on until they were rolling around the cockpit fighting for breath between laughs.

  In the back Rocko just rolled his eyes at the others.

  33

  Lake Superior (1927)

  Grand Oak stood at the lakeshore. The Chippewa had done their best. For nearly 600 years they had been the keepers of a great secret. In fact for over a hundred years they had even forgotten what they had been told by the knights that had entrusted them with so much. With the advent of settlement of America and great teams of bullock and horse-drawn carriages moving into the Mid-West, along with it came Christianity and they soon remembered what they were entrusted with.

  But now the new century was well into swing. There had been a great war and industrialisation, capitalism and communication had grown great. The Chippewa had been forced into a great sadness. Their land had been seized, their rights were none. Grand Oak knew he was the last of the great chiefs of the Chippewa, whose roots went even further back. He knew the white man’s greed could not be curtailed.

  Grand Oak was well read. He knew about the great giants of the industrial age – Henry Ford, Carnegie, Rockefeller and others. He knew they took what they wanted from the indigenous people, without any care, any remuneration, any acknowledgement of the balance of the seasons and the keepers of the past. It was time. He himself had been warned by his grandfather that this time would come, and now it was here.

  “Tattoo the children,” he said with a ceremonious motion of his hand. But this was no ceremony. It was simply a way to track them in the future.

  A small child not quite two years old from the tribe of the Hopi, who later came to be known as Ghost Wolf, was tattooed with an X with an extra line on the top right, later to be known as the hooked X. He was to become the future of the Hopi clan moving to New Mexico with his minders. A slightly older child, one who was to be raised now, not as a Chippewa but along with his parents to be raised as a European, was shifting across the world. This child was tattooed with a chevron with a circle underneath it directly over its heart.

  “And now for my own son,” Grand Oak said. He and several senior members of his tribe had come to the great lakes to decide the fate of the chosen child. For years both tribes had looked after and supported the chosen one. A boy of eight stepped forward.

  “I am ready, Father,” and he too was tattooed with a hooked X. This boy grew to be Lone Bear’s father.

  Both children of the land were to stay behind and grow as normal. On attaining their manhood they would both be told a great secret. A secret their fathers, grandfathers, great-grandfathers and many more before them had been told. Now it was time to keep the secret even when they were no longer to have the chosen one.

  It would be weeks before the chosen one had his new home, thousands of miles away. All sorts of people were paid, chosen, served and stood by them as they boarded at first a small boat, then a much larger boat, then rail, then a steamer, then more rail and finally after nine weeks they would be relocated into a land they had never heard about.

  Grand Oak looked to the skies.

  “Departed ancestors, keep our secret safe. May their travels be gifted and may they always be secure.”

  He acknowledged the sky and the land and then nodded. A boat containing worried parents and a screaming child pulled away from the shore.

  34

  The refuel in Scotland had gone without incident. It seemed the Eagle knew people who knew people. That certainly helped. David’s first peep of the Mediterranean Sea jogged him alert. How did the Templars get the chosen one out of America and what did these Indians really know? More importantly he was thinking of who would be following them and what resistance they would have. Was Lone Bear in on the whole thing? What if this was a trap? He must have been looking intense. He felt Abbey’s touch on his hand.

  “If you curl your lip like that again I am going to eat you up, I swear it.”

  David smiled and looked into the soft, loving eyes of a woman he hadn’t known that long, but was everything he had ever desired in his life.

  “It’s my thinking look and if we get out of this alive… I might just let you.”

  “Thinking is so over-rated, David,” Abb
ey smiled back, firming her grip on his suntanned hand. “I prefer to feel. All the greatest minds, strategists and warriors feel. When you use your heart you will outdo many minds who are thinking.”

  “I think… no, I feel you are right,” David replied wistfully, watching the ocean pass beneath the jet. Europe had busy skies and they were only an hour from Crete. With every plane that crossed their path David lent forward a little, wondering if they were in pursuit. Abbey was firmly in control as usual and the others had passed out in the back. They would need their rest. David could not rest.

  Just over 600 miles behind David’s plane was another private jet. This carried Chant and John and was heading in the same direction. John was busy sending emails over an encrypted system to different allies on the ground across Europe. By the time they landed in Crete, a top-flight mercenary team with three platoons of highly experienced and deadly individuals would be arriving in Crete from various corners. Chant had decided to ensure all were well equipped and ready for action. This time there was to be no mistake. Intel on the ground had been warned and they had control of the various traffic and airport cameras, thus they would be able to see the exact movements of the team. The right briefing and right attack needed to be fully coordinated this time. Chant didn’t want to be front page but he was prepared to cause a commotion.

  Lone Bear’s plane landed in Athens. He and his small team did not have the luxury of private jets, but they were well rested and had chartered a flight from Athens to Heraklion, Crete’s capital. On arriving at Athens, Lone Bear had one of his team send David some instructions to meet them on the outskirts of Heraklion at a hotel rendezvous.