by J C Ryan
There was a long pause.
“Oh, and one more thing,” she said. “You remember these words? ‘I, Mackenzie Anderson, take you, Carter Devereux, to be my lawfully wedded husband. To have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part’? Hmm? You remember them?”
“Yes, very much so, Mackie. It was one of the happiest moments of my life.”
“Well, just to let you know, I was serious when I said those words. I understood every single word of that vow. I meant it, and nothing has changed — including the ‘for better, for worse’ part of it.”
It was as if a ton of bricks suddenly fell off Carter’s shoulders. He pulled her over to him and kissed her like it was the first time. “You are the most amazing woman in the universe, Mackie,” he whispered through the kissing.
When they both got their breath back, she laughed and said, “Okay, now that we’ve sorted that one out, what’s next?”
Carter looked down at Mackenzie, who was now resting her head on his lap. “We need to think about the future. Where do we want to live, and what do we want to do? I’m sure we haven’t seen the last of evil people, and it’s my duty to protect my family.”
“I understand that, Carter, and I agree it’s important that we do everything humanly possible to keep our family safe. The question is how? How do we keep our family safe?”
“Well, for starters, I’m going to resign from A-Echelon, and then—”
But Mackenzie didn’t let him finish his sentence. “And that will make the ancient nuclear weapons evaporate into nonexistence?”
“No, it won’t, but it won’t be a threat to my family anymore.”
“Really? Not even if some lunatic finds and activates it? You told me they might have used fusion bombs back then — a thousand times more powerful than our nuclear weapons. How is ignoring their existence going to protect us?”
“What are you saying, Mackie? You want me to continue with that research? How can I, after what happened to you and Liam and Beth?”
“So, you want to walk away from it—make it someone else’s problem — just dump it and forget about it? That will make you feel better . . . safer? More at ease about your family’s safety?”
Given the ordeal she and the children went through, Carter was more than a little surprised by Mackenzie’s reaction. “I’m not sure I understand your reasoning, Mackie. Can’t you see that it’s my, our, involvement in this research that’s placed us in this precarious position?”
“Carter, I had a lot of time to think in that hellhole in Saudi Arabia. Desperate and depressing as it was, what kept me alive was that I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of giving up. Giving up would have meant they won, and I was not prepared to let them have that satisfaction. After months in that place, I gave up on being rescued, but one thing stuck in my mind; if we ever got out of there, we must continue our work. I don’t want them to win—ever. We have to beat them.”
The strength of mind revealed through her words and the determination radiating from her eyes surprised him. He knew she could be very determined, and he loved that trait, but this was going way beyond anything he had experienced on any prior juncture. She had an unyielding vigor.
“What about the discoveries you’ve made?” she continued. “The Golden Garden in Peru, the city of the giants in Egypt. Does that mean nothing to you? What about the library of the giants — are you just going to dump it somewhere? Don’t you want to know what we can learn from it? What if there is something about the ancient nuclear weapons in there or in that city?
“What about the respirocyte research? It holds so much potential for the good of humanity. Yes, of course, it can be used for evil purposes as well, but we have the only copy of the Sirralnnudam on the planet. We are light-years ahead of anyone else. Or are you saying you just want to dump it all and walk away?”
“Mackie, there are two things at stake here — one, the safety of our family, and two, the research. Believe me, I would very much like to continue everything we have been working on but . . .” Carter paused for a moment, “at what price?”
“Those things can’t be separated, Carter. You can’t choose one above the other. It’s only through continued research and discoveries that we can ensure the safety and future of our family. Even if we don’t play leading roles in the research work in the future, we must be involved. I don’t want to become a spectator — a passenger in a vehicle driven by someone who hasn’t seen the map of where we’re supposed to be going.”
Carter’s brain was working overtime. What Mackenzie was saying was true. In fact, he wanted to get back into it, but he couldn’t get his mind away from the horrors he and his family had been through in the past ten months. Nodding slowly to acknowledge his understanding of what she was saying, he was silent, not yet ready to answer. He needed more time.
“Carter, your knowledge about the ancient nukes is unique. No one else has any idea. Think about it carefully. We didn’t win; we only survived. What we went through — all of us — was only the first shots in a long war.”
“For someone who didn’t have her ducks in a row at the beginning of this conversation, I would say your ducks are now all toeing the line.” Carter chuckled.
“Well, they organized themselves while I was talking.” She laughed.
Carter became solemn again. “Mackie, there are a few things I love above anything else — God, you and the children, Freydís, and archeology. The only things I won’t give up are God, you, and the children. Everything else comes second, especially if giving up everything else will keep my family out of harm’s way.”
“Carter, believe me, I understand how you feel about our safety; I respect that. I can only beg you to not give up . . .”
“I need time to think about it,” Carter said.
Mackenzie, with a naughty little smile on her lips, knew it was time to back off and give him space to think and decide. She grabbed him and pulled him down to her, wrapped her arms around him, and rolled them onto the carpet, where she landed on top of him. She sat up and started giggling, “Okay, now that I have your attention, here’s how it’s going to work . . .”
But she didn’t get any further. Carter had wiggled himself out from under her, lifted her into his arms, and carried her to their bedroom.
Much later, with Mackenzie nestled in Carter’s arms, they decided that for the time being they would stay on Freydís. Liam would be homeschooled, and they knew the boy was going to jump over the moon when he heard that. And to be honest, they had to admit they were thrilled with the idea as well.
Chapter 10 -
Appropriate steps
With the benefits of modern technology available to them, the Council of the Covenant of Nabatea didn’t have to meet in person like they had to do in the old days. With their almost incalculable wealth, they could afford the services of the world’s best information technology and telecommunication engineers. These days, they would have face-to-face meetings maybe once a year, and for the rest of the time, they met via video conference. Not the typical widely used video conference over the Internet — they were using their own top-secret, custom-built, impenetrable, holographic, telepresence technology through their own satellite links. Holographic video conferencing was still in its infancy in the rest of the world. Many IT professionals and businesspeople would give their left eyes to get their hands on the Nabatean’s knowhow — if they knew about it.
At 11:05 p.m., Graziella Marie Nabati stepped into the Council of the Covenant of Nabatea’s meeting chamber ten stories below her house in Paris. As always, she wore no jewelry. She was as always, dressed in white trimmed in gold, a regal figure of sophistication and elegance.
The holographic images of the ten people waiting around the oak table arose, bowed, and in unison said, “Behold the daughter of Hagar of whom God said, ‘I will multiply thy seed exceedingly, that it shall not be numbered for mult
itude.’ The mother of Ishmael of whom God said, ‘I will make him into a great nation.’”
Graziella bowed in acknowledgment and took her seat. She looked at the empty seat of Xavier Algosaibi, and an expression of sadness washed over her face for a fleeting moment before she spoke.
“I have called this urgent meeting as there are three important matters to discuss. First, Councilor Algosaibi’s heartrending death yesterday, second his replacement, third his children.” She paused, and while she waited for everyone to let her know if there were any other urgent matters to be addressed, she looked around the room at the images of the attendees. They were so life-like it was difficult to accept they were only cleverly manipulated beams of light.
There was nothing else to add to the agenda.
“Councilor Algosaibi’s death fills me with sorrow,” she started the eulogy. “Not only will he be deeply missed as our brother, his absence has left us leaderless in the land of our origin. Xavier was a good man, a good leader, clever and loyal to the cause of our forefather, Nebajoth. He has left a legacy that is going to be hard to repeat. He had a powerful sphere of influence that his successor must rebuild. It’s going to take willpower, motivation, time, resources, and money. We honor Councilor Algosaibi’s memory.” With that, Graziella stood and bowed her head.
The rest of the council members did the same, and all said, “And he will be gathered to his people.” With bowed heads, they remained standing in silence for another minute in adherence to their age-old tradition to honor the memory of one of their members. But the truth was none of them were grieving Algosaibi’s demise — they were relieved at his empty seat. He had become a thorn in their flesh over the past few years. His incessant political ambition and religious fanaticism was a big headache for them, because it was undermining the secrecy and vision of the Nabateans.
More than half of the council members had already begun contemplating Algosaibi’s end — the Mabahith had done them a big favor. Otherwise, they would have been forced to place it on the agenda of one of their meetings very soon.
“Thank you,” Graziella said after one minute and took her seat. “Let’s proceed to the second item on our agenda.” She looked at the holographic image of her son, Mathieu Nabati, and nodded for him to speak.
“Honorable councilors,” Mathieu started. “As you know, we, the children of Nebajoth, have a proud and illustrious lineage that spans more than 6,100 years and 245 generations. Everyone in this meeting tonight can trace their bloodline back to our patriarch, Nebajoth. Without that lineage, you would not be serving on this council — that is how it has been for more than six millennia.
“Our success, and I dare say our supremacy, is embedded in our bloodline. To be Nabatean is in our DNA — we can draw water from the desert.”
The councilors gave a round of applause and nodded at Graziella, who had the smile of a proud mother.
“Therefore, when we do our research and create a recommendation for the council, we start with heritage. And then, only after that, do we consider education, personality, achievements, influence, contacts, and wealth.”
Mathieu continued and revealed the name of Hassan Al-Suleiman, leader of the True Sons of the Prophet, referred to by many as the Sultan of Syria.
The councilors were not entirely surprised by the name. They had all heard of Hassan and his True Sons of the Prophet and the inroads they were making in Syria and Iraq. And they all agreed with his vision for the Muslim world.
Mathieu pushed a button on his laptop to activate a presentation on the computer screens of each of the participants. First, he stepped them through Hassan Al-Suleiman’s bloodline to assure everyone that the man met the ancestry criteria. There were a few pleasant surprises in Hassan’s family history. The relationship to the Saudi Royal family was probably not much to be excited about, but on the other hand, to be able to count King Darius I of Persia and Cyrus the Great amongst your family was a great honor.
Twenty minutes later, everyone was convinced that the heritage box was well and truly ticked.
It took another hour to step through the rest of Hassan’s profile and to get a unanimous decision about his appointment. That was part of their tradition — new councilors had to be elected undisputed.
Councilor Alireza Karimi-Shah, a very wealthy engineer, businessman, and humanitarian from Iran, was tasked to get in touch with Hassan Al-Suleiman and invite him to take his rightful place on the Council of the Covenant of Nabatea.
Graziella introduced the final item on the agenda — Algosaibi’s children, Mayon and Aisha. “Our sources in Saudi Arabia confirmed that the two of them have managed to escape and are on the run.
“I’ve received information that they were in Istanbul and have been in contact with one of our providers there. They are in Rome now and are being closely monitored. I am of the opinion they are planning to come to Paris, as this is where they lived and studied for many years.”
“Do you have reason to suspect that they might cause us trouble?” one of the councilors asked. He was the American Secretary of the Treasury — concerned with all financial and monetary matters in the USA, member of the President's Cabinet, and a non-statutory member of the National Security Council. His was considered one of the four most important cabinet positions with that of the Secretary of Defense, the Secretary of State, and the Attorney General.
Graziella replied, “They are part of the bloodline, and if required, we should protect them. But not at all costs.”
The councilor frowned.
Graziella continued, “We have been living and trading in the world around us unnoticed for about two thousand years. As you know, we have been very successful at what we do, and one of the reasons for that — probably the only reason — is that we have done it all in secret. What we do and who we are has been kept secret from everyone, including our families. We would have achieved nothing if we didn’t do it in secret.
“You can study the chronicles of the Nabateans, and you will see that every time one or more of us failed to abide by the oath of secrecy it led us to the brink of disaster.”
“Do you have reason to believe that Algosaibi broke his oath of secrecy?” the Secretary of the Treasury asked.
“No, I don’t. But to be safe, I have ordered surveillance be placed on them to find out. If it turns out that the late Councilor Algosaibi broke his oath and passed our secrets on to his children . . .”
“Then we must take appropriate steps to protect our secret.” He nodded in agreement.
Graziella looked at each of the councilors in turn and got their approval.
Chapter 11 -
Consider her ways and be wise
Carter rose early the morning after he and Mackenzie’s discussion about the future. He saddled his horse and rode out, turning towards the river flats. He needed some thinking time, and riding out on Freydís land was his way of meditating. He hadn’t seen the wolves for a while, not since he, Mackenzie, and the children had first returned to Freydís. He was aware the wolves often changed hunting grounds during the summer months, so thought they may have gone farther afield, giving the four young ones more experience.
His head was spinning with the conversation he and Mackie had the night before. He was glad they had decided to stay at Freydís for the moment.
Was he willing to return to the work that had been the cause of the last ten months’ turmoil? He was loath to continue for fear of the harm it could bring to them again. Carter loved his work, but not at the risk of his family — he would never be able to live with himself if something happened to them again.
On the other hand, he understood Mackenzie’s desire to continue. While she had been imprisoned, her research had kept her sane, and she and Liu had achieved a great deal.
Suddenly he stopped, his musing broken as he stared down towards the river flats and spotted the Freydís wolves. That small pack of two adults and four pups moving through the grasslands intent on hunting was unmistakable.<
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One of the pups spotted a lonely bison standing at the water’s edge — likely an old one and not able to keep up with the rest of the herd anymore. Carter could see a distant herd farther up the valley.
Carter took his binoculars out and watched. One of the young wolves approached the bison. Carter drew in a breath. “No, leave it alone,” he whispered. "It's too big for you." He thought to turn away and leave them to it, not wanting to see injury or death come out of the curiosity the young wolf was displaying, but he couldn’t — he had to watch.
The pup crept on its belly slowly, closer to the beast, which had spotted him and put its head down, making it seem even more massive than it was, intent on deterring the pup. But the youngster would not be put off. His curiosity had gotten the better of him. He advanced closer, and the bison charged a short distance at him. The wolf leaped sideways from it, only to return.
Loki spotted what was going on, approached the animal, and put himself between it and his pup. He judged this was not the time to take on something of this size and clearly wanted to get the youngster out of the way.
But then the bison charged.
Carter grew pale. It had been known for a single adult wolf to bring down a bison, but it was rare.
Keeva, by this time, had joined Loki. It was clear their only option was to bring the creature down despite its size. Maybe there was little choice now it had been woken from its apathy, and the pups were now creeping in on the prey, refusing to leave.
“It’s too big, Loki,” Carter muttered. “Leave it. Someone’s going to get hurt.”
The bison was now swinging its huge head back and forth watching the circling wolves, its immense shoulders tensed with muscle, tail twitching, its feet planted firmly, ready to charge once more.
The wolves fanned out around it, and Carter judged there was no turning back. Now stirred, the animal was dangerous. Neither was it in the wolves' nature to turn and run.