by Sean Salazar
The knight walked right past them, not even turning his head to look at them. As he passed by, Hazim let out his breath and passed out, hitting the floor. Issam watched his friend go down, then watched the giant knight go out the door. He didn’t bother reviving his friend but continued on down the hall. He made it to the intersection and saw another friend, a freshman, crawling on his belly, leaving a smeared trail of blood from the auditorium doors.
Issam knelt down and touched his friend’s head, letting him know he was there. His friend looked up for just a second, his eyes full of tears. He then went limp and lay flat, his head resting on his chin. Issam stood up and slowly walked in the direction of the blood trail. He knew what was inside. As he reached for the door, Hazim joined him, his dark face with a shocked paleness to it. Inside the small auditorium, over twenty of their friends were slumped over each other, motionless and dead.
Chapter Seventeen
Washington, D.C.
Once Natalie had climbed out of the shaft, Ed gave her a second to dust off and then he started removing the mangled cobwebs stuck in her hair.
“Yuck,” she said.
“Don’t worry, these spiders have been long gone,” he said. When he finished, he wiped his hands of the cobwebs and stepped over to the wall.
“I don’t think so,” she said, aiming her light directly above the trap door.
Ed saw the spider and laughed, “Well then, I stand corrected.”
Natalie shivered, “That’s okay. I’m over it.”
Ed began pulling at the remainder of the boards, which were loosely nailed into the semi-rocky wall. There were cobwebs attached to the back of the boards as he removed each one. A piece of wall with writing on it came loose and fell to the floor. He reached down and grabbed the broken piece, wiped it, and then put it back in place.
As he held it, Natalie leaned in with her light directly on the etchings. “The words are carved into the stone, or...” She corrected herself, “more like scratched.”
“I would gather that whoever wrote this used the nails that the boards were held up with,” he said, handing her the broken piece. He placed each of the boards down, retrieved his light, and stood back. “It’s definitely a message.”
Natalie stood next to Ed with her light aimed directly at the scratches on the wall and then slowly read it,
“None...of...us...have...revealed what they seek.
Only three left alive for a brief time.
She lowered her light a few inches, illuminating the next group of scratches and began reading,
“8-1-3-2-I-K-2”
“Numbers and letters,” she said.
After a brief pause, Ed said, “It’s a code.”
“It’s a message and a code,” Natalie added.
Ed nodded as he examined the remainder of the wall, “That it is.”
She stood back and said, “I’m not very good at figuring out codes or puzzles.”
Ed analyzed the words and numbers briefly. He stepped back, aimed his light, carefully examining every detail of the wall. He then looked around the room once and settled back at the trap door. He knelt down and said, “Unfortunately, I believe it’s the last message of those dying men.”
Natalie breathed, “Oh my god, you’re right.” She turned around and aimed her light down the shaft. “So they were trapped in here?”
Ed aimed his light back at the message. “From this message it would definitely appear that way.” He stood up, stepped around the shaft, and stood in front of the cabinets, examining the area around them. He knelt down, opened the first one on the right, and briefly inspected the contents on the shelves. He closed the doors and then examined the center cabinet’s contents. Very interesting, he said, now stepping over the statue. “Now if we can just figure out who you are,” he said, looking down at it and frowning.
Natalie walked over and asked, “Have you figured something out?”
“Well,” Ed sighed, as he thought, “according to that message, those men may have been tortured for information.”
“But the message says that they did not reveal what their captors wanted.”
“When that message was written, seven were now dead, leaving the remaining three to write and hide that message behind those boards.”
“And then they killed them,” Natalie said.
“So,” he continued thinking out loud, “they must have been left alone for a while to have carved that message into the wall.” He let out a sinister chuckle. “That would be the secret this brass individual would have to tell us.”
“But there is no name written around it; how are you going to figure out who it is?”
“You mentioned yourself that you were working on a thesis,” Ed said, as he continued to examine the statue’s details.
Natalie suddenly became very quiet. She stepped to the head of the statue and aimed her light on the face. “Are you saying this is an actual Knight Templar?”
Ed stood up. “I didn’t tell you yet that there is another one of these statues down below at the end of the passageway.”
“You mean, this isn’t just an old murder scene. I mean...Oh, my god...My professor...”
“Yes,” Ed finished her thought. “This may be the proof you are looking for that the...”
“The Templars were here,” she said excitedly. “This discovery is big, I mean very big.”
“It’s inconclusive at this time, but definitely an option to look into,” Ed said as he noticed several loud noises coming from the main tunnel. After a few seconds, multiple voices were now echoing from outside the space.
“Just a moment,” he said, and stepped over the statue and into the tunnel. Several men with hard hats were analyzing the rock and boulder wall and another was bringing in a small air-powered jackhammer. Natalie followed behind him with her light back through the narrow entryway. There was now a gap in the center of the boulder wall.
Ed then backed up and aimed his light upward illuminating a heavy wooden beam with obvious rope markings directly in the center.
“What I need you to do,” he said, directing his attention to the man in charge, “is find out what was over this spot before the neighborhood topside was built.”
“I can do that,” he said.
“There are a pile of skeletal remains at the bottom of a shaft in the room we came out of. I would like those bodies removed and sent for a forensic examination as soon as possible, preferably now.”
The man nodded.
“In addition,” Ed continued, “I want this tunnel kept as secret as you Americans can get. Inform the CIA director personally; do not use any other way of communicating.”
The man seemed caught off-guard by the statement and answered, “Yes, sir.”
“How many have seen this?” Ed asked.
“So far only my men, you,” he turned to Natalie, “and now her.”
“Splendid,” Ed said. “That should make it easy.” He then turned around, climbed out over the boulders, and then helped Natalie out.
“What is it?” she asked, also caught off-guard by his sudden change in attitude.
“We just made a huge discovery. I’ll explain later, but first let’s record the writing on the wall; I’m no longer concerned about preservation. Let’s go find Alex Pike.”
Chapter Eighteen
A short time later, with his leather bag tightly held under his arm, Ed was re-tracing his way back to the White House with Natalie and his two security men in tow. His urgent mission now was to attempt to solve the mysterious codes and he could not wait.
As he pushed his way past security, he instructed the guards to locate the CIA director immediately. He could sense his influence was high when the men scampered off immediately to fulfill his request. The second man escorted them deep into the White House past several more security men, and into a plush room. Painting and ornate furniture decorated the space, but more importantly Alex Pike was sitting up on a hospital-type bed with a gown on. He was fo
rcefully yanking wires off his chest and arms. The tall Asian doctor was attempting to stop him and Ed could tell that the relationship between Alex and the doctor wasn’t going so well. Ed placed his bag on a corner table and pulled out his notes while their heated exchange took place.
Natalie also placed her notepad on the table, pulled over a chair, and sat down. “Is that your friend?” she asked.
“Yes,” Ed said, pulling out several papers from his bag.
Alex noticed Ed was now in the room and yelled out, “Are you going to help me or not?”
“Now let me see what we have,” Ed said, ignoring him. He then waited a few seconds, turned to Alex and added, “Are you going to be a good lad and allow the good doctor to finish working on you?”
“Absolutely not. I am tired of being poked and prodded upon.”
“Well then,” Ed said, “I cannot help you.”
The doctor chimed in, “Sir, can I at least take your blood pressure?”
“If you must,” Alex answered, thrusting his arm forward. “Make it quick, please.”
The doctor took the blood pressure, finished removing the wires, and turned to Ed with a relieved look. “He’s all yours.”
“Thank you, doctor,” Ed replied. “I apologize for his stubbornness.”
The doctor smiled, holding back a laugh. “There’s never a dull moment with you Brits.”
Alex pointed his finger in the air and looked directly at Ed, “And where have you been?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing.” Ed walked up to the bed. He grabbed the clipboard at the end of the table and glanced at it. “It says here that you are guilty of getting shot, captured, interrogated, and vacationing in Spain. How do you plead?”
“Not guilty,” Alex coughed. He crossed his arms on his protruding belly and said, “So I see you have been busy while I was on vacation; what kind of trouble are you in now?”
“Only the usual moaning and complaining,” Ed said, patting his shoulder.
“Good,” Alex said. “I just couldn’t imagine you getting anywhere without me.” He threw his arm in Natalie’s direction, almost pulling his gown off. “And who is that?”
“That young lady is Ms. Natalie Sikorsky, my new assistant.” Ed was deliberately taking it slow with Alex, not knowing how much he had been told since his rescue. “Do you remember what happened?”
“Of course!” Alex shot back. He reached to the side of him and lifted a pile of newspapers and folders. “Someone lit off a bomb over Washington, D.C. and you would like me to figure out who did it.”
“Wayne is dead,” Ed said slowly.
Alex lowered the papers and his demeanor changed from angry to somber. He took a deep breath, lowered his head and asked, “What happened?”
Ed approached the propped-up bed. He was not sure where to begin but decided to start at the beginning and explain the shooting in Lebanon. He patted Alex’s shoulder. “If I remember correctly, the situation was slightly reversed. I was on a plane strapped to a gurney after being shot and you had just arrived with Agent Al Robek and Agent Jess Contreras. I was having a meeting with Mr. Badagliacca from the Vatican.” He paused and then continued. “Ah yes, I recall the aircraft engines were beginning to power up when, for no reason, Jess Contreras jumped up and shot the pilots and then the rest of us.” Ed abruptly stopped, smiled, and asked, “Okay, well that’s it. So how have you been, my friend?’
Alex suddenly caught Ed’s intent of diversion and said, “Don’t you dare leave out London.”
At that moment, a female aide burst into the room virtually on the run, placed a small pile of folded clothes on a desk, and rushed back out.
Ed glanced at the door and Alex grabbed his arm. “You were just about to explain what happened in London.”
“Well,” Ed turned back reluctantly and continued. “It’s all quite simple in fact. The London bunker was attacked and destroyed the same time we were all shot.”
“Betty?” Alex inquired.
Ed nodded, “She got out.”
Alex let go of Ed’s arm and swung his legs off the bed. “Where is she?”
“That is quite the question,” Ed answered with his eyes lowered. “She has been on the run since the attack.”
“On the run?”
“On the run and very busy.” He turned around, walked over to the table, grabbed his leather bag, and returned to Alex’s bedside. “After the shooting, Al and I were captured and were being interrogated for Holy Script translations.”
“As well as I,” Alex added.
“Roughly two weeks later, Betty contacted Saif in Lebanon and he organized an elaborate escape for Al and then he and Vance rescued me.”
Alex tightened his gown to cover his bare legs and asked, “Then who rescued me?”
Ed smiled, “Well, Betty also found you several hours ago and Al...”
“I got it,” Alex finished his answer. He stepped off the bed and walked over to the table, grabbed the folded clothes, and stepped behind the bed to put them on. “Where is Agent Robek? I need to thank him.”
Natalie broke her silence when Alex finished dressing and shook his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”
“Likewise,” he answered, tucking his shirt in.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” she added, staring at the long scar traveling up his face and head.
Alex uttered a short, guttural laugh. “I can only imagine.”
Ed reached into his bag. “A bomb exploded over D.C.”
Alex picked up the newspaper. “I thought the gas explosion story sounded fishy.”
Ed pulled out his papers and placed them on the table. “I see your old dusty brain is still with us.”
Alex glanced at the newspaper briefly and asked, “Was it similar to the bomb Al discovered in Baalbek, Lebanon?”
“Al mentioned that this one was much larger.”
“It was found under the White House?”
“Yes,” Ed answered, sweeping his hands over the papers, spreading them out.
Alex gave Ed a serious stare and he knew what he was thinking. Ed turned to Natalie and said, “My dear, could you please step out for a moment.”
“What, oh, I mean yes,” she replied and left the room.
Once she was out, Alex walked over to Ed with his bare feet and asked in a low tone of voice, “Excuse me for appearing irrational, but has she been checked out?”
Ed responded, “Yes, I had her checked out completely this time.”
“Please finish that statement by stating that you are not kidding with me and how did they destroy the London bunker?”
“No, I’m not kidding, I cleared her, and it turns out that the attacks were coordinated simultaneously.”
Alex glanced up. “I recall the pilot saying over the intercom that the Israeli Prime Minister was assassinated—just before Jess Contreras shot everyone.” He glanced back down, “So the Prime Minister, London, and our plane was attacked; is there more?”
“That’s a good question,. So far our intelligence shows that Agent Contreras received a message from London. The message from London seems to have been sent to several different locations simultaneously.”
“Where?”
“The CIA director is working on that herself personally. Also,” Ed continued, “it was Natalie’s investigation that led us to find the bomb.”
“H-mm,” Alex murmured. He then motioned to the ceiling and gave Ed an innocent stare.
Ed nodded again, understanding what Alex wanted to know without asking out loud. He wanted to know if they were being monitored. Ed shrugged his shoulders in an ‘I don’t know fashion.’ One thing Ed could not let out verbally was the existence of several World War II surplus London bunkers the SAS and MI-5 were using to store records and secret items. As of now, they were not attacked and Ed just shook his head, then smiled.
“Oh,” Alex said, nodding. He walked to the door, opened it, and said, “Please come in.”
Natal
ie walked back in with an air of suspicion and asked, “Am I cleared.”
“You most certainly are,” Ed answered, continuing where he left off. “Then apparently the London bunker was hit and the three of us were captured, separated, and interrogated individually.”
Alex sat down and began putting on his shoes, “So, tell me about this bomb.”
“I thought you would never ask,” Ed replied, spreading the papers out on the table. “The chamber where the bomb was found was quite old.”
Alex finished tying his shoes and stood up. “How old?”
Ed hesitated a moment before answering, “I believe...older than the White House.”
Alex glanced at the pages on the table and asked, “The space that contained the bomb also had this writing?”
“Yes. We discovered two main chambers connected by a long tunnel. The bomb and the writing were discovered in the chamber below the White House lawn.”
“And two buried statues,” Natalie added.
“Interesting,” Alex said. “Statues, writing, and a bomb. What language was the writing?”
“Hebrew,” Ed answered.
“Well, show it to me already,” Alex barked, ready to move on out.
Ed tossed a few more papers on the table and pushed one in particular toward Alex. Pointing to the middle of the page, he said, “Hold on. We have several mysteries to solve first. One is the writing we found on the bomb.”
“Wait,” Alex said. “There was actual writing on the bomb?”
“This,” Ed tapped his finger on the page, “was actually stenciled on the metal skin of the bomb.”
“Moved from Tilmun in preparation of the loftiest”
“Tilmun,” Alex said. “Is that correct?”
“As far as I could determine, considering the brief time I was down there.” Ed moved his finger to the next page. “And, this is the writing over the buried statue’s head.”