by Sean Salazar
Alex leaned in and read it.
“In-of-the-giants...
Returning from the everlasting...
Establish their throne.”
Alex silently rubbed his chin. “I am already beginning to see hidden clues, and a possible pattern.” He then picked up the page and, after looking at it for a few seconds, said, “This looks very familiar.”
“Ah-ha,” Ed said loudly. “I thought you would catch that.”
“As odd as it sounds—and correct me if I’m wrong—”Alex said, “this writing appears to be a continuation of the secret writings we translated earlier from the gold plate.”
“Gold plate?” Natalie asked.
“Very interesting,” Alex said as he began reading,
“The return...”
“And,” Ed interrupted him, “the writing from the gold plate helped
us find the bomb under Baalbek, Lebanon.”
“Wow,” she exclaimed. “You done yakking?” Alex asked, lowering the page. “Please continue,” Ed said. Alex began reading,
“The return shall be the lighting of the seven seals of Erra through the earth.
First seal of Tubal and the horse
Second seal of Masech
Third seal of Rosh
The end of days will be in the day GOG days.”
Alex glanced back up and grumbled, “This is deep.”
“I had hoped to have all this deciphered,” Ed said.
“Has Wayne had a stab at it yet?”
Ed didn’t respond.
Alex stopped and shook his head. “It’s going to take some getting used to not having the old team around.”
“Yes it is,” Ed replied, somberly. He reached into his bag, pulled out the translation computer and placed it on the table. “Betty managed to save this after London was attacked.”
Alex pulled up a chair and sat down next to the computer. “Well, it’s a start, considering what happened.”
Ed pulled up a chair and sat next to him. “After all these years, this is the first time we have been disrupted in this manner, although we knew it could happen someday.”
“Yeah,” Alex said, “but not so decisively.”
“I’m sorry,” Natalie said.
“The fact is that we got beat and lost a battle or two,” Ed said.
Alex cleared his throat, “But not the war.”
“For example,” Ed said, addressing Natalie, “I would give Wayne the phrase, Moved from Tilmun in preparation of the loftiest. He would then rapidly decipher a biblical connection that would get our investigation started.”
“Yes,” Alex said. “Back to that, how quickly can we determine where Tilmun is, assuming that you translated it correctly?”
“When I first read that,” Ed said, typing the name into the computer, “it reminded me of shipping orders.”
Alex laughed, “That is a good assumption.”
Ed sighed, “Unfortunately, I just realized that some of the information we are accustomed to using is not here.”
Alex cleared his throat and asked, “And what does that mean?”
“As far as I know,” Ed said, “Betty saved one computer from the London attack, but there are now two, which would mean that one is a duplicate.”
“And it’s most likely this one,” Alex added.
Ed leaned back, “I believe so, which means that half our information is on the other computer.”
“Well,” Alex said, “what do you have?’
Ed sat back up, “Well, this computer has the basic translation, but the remaining theories are on the other one.”
“In other words, all the important information,” Alex stated.
“The problem is that I do not know where Betty is,” Ed said.
Natalie raised her hand as if she was in class. “What about the CIA director, can she help?”
Ed put his hands together and clenched his fists, unsure how to respond. He wanted to trust Natalie and believed she could help, but how much could he tell her?
“Well,” he said, “it’s a bit more complicated than that. Our research and theories encompass decades of work.”
“Is it feasible to track down the exact location of this Tilmun?” Alex asked.
“That may be a tough one,” Ed replied. “I looked into it briefly and it appears by most theories to be somewhere in the Sinai Peninsula.”
Alex gave Ed an odd look which gave him an idea. “Since we are stretched thin at the moment, I suggest possibly giving Betty a mission.”
Alex nodded in approval, “I think she could handle it.”
Without actually saying it out loud, the men determined to send the information to Betty to locate Tilmun.
At that moment, Ms. Churchill burst into the room with her security detail, consisting of three very intense-looking fellows. Once her eyes connected with Ed’s, she turned and pointed. The men stopped and backed outside, closing the door.
As the door closed with a thud, Ed saw that Churchill looked frazzled—as if the whole world hung on her shoulders.
She attempted to compose herself as she approached them. “I am glad to see you are safe, Alex” she said, shaking his hand.
“Just another day on the front lines,” he graciously replied.
Ms. Churchill pulled up a chair and put her hands on the backrest. She glanced down at the papers on the table, took a deep breath, looked up and said, “Ed, I have been waiting so patiently for your report. The president, Secretary of Defense, and a few other key individuals, are constantly nipping at me for answers.”
“I can imagine,” Ed politely responded.
She let go of the chair. “You mentioned to the president that clues to locate the other bombs were written on the walls in the cavern below the White House lawn. How far along are you?”
Before Ed answered her, he had to be sure certain requests he had made had been tended to. “I need your help with something.”
“Anything you need.”
“First, did you get the message about the bodies in the tunnel?”
She nodded. “They are being removed and analyzed as we speak, and the area is fully secured.”
Ed read her face and carefully answered, “Very well. There is a reason why I am asking for this as a matter of urgency.”
“I am not asking for explanations.”
“I understand,” Ed said. “Those bodies may somehow hold the key to part of the mystery, but as to what, I do not yet know.”
“From what I hear,” Ms. Churchill prodded, “they were very old skeletal remains.”
“They were Masons,” Natalie added.
“Now that adds an interesting twist to the mystery,” Alex said.
“The bodies were found at the bottom of a shaft at the end of the passageway,” Ed explained. “It depends on which way you arrive, but,” he paused and turned over the papers on the table, “we found a hidden message and a code at the top of the shaft, directly over where the bodies were.”
“You suspect a connection,” Ms. Churchill asked.
“Yes,” Ed answered. “A theory we have is that the message was carved into the stone before they were murdered.”
“Maybe,” Natalie chimed in. “Sorry but,” she abruptly stopped.
“That’s okay, Natalie,” Ms. Churchill said. “You are part of this team now and your ideas and opinions are important.”
So not holding back, Natalie blurted out, “They were murdered to hide the bomb. You know, eliminate everyone that had any knowledge about it to hide the evidence.”
Ms. Churchill analyzed Natalie briefly and replied, “If what you are saying is even remotely correct, that would indicate that the bomb was quite old.”
Ed was not sure how to answer that question but answered, “Yes, of course.”
Ms. Churchill removed a handkerchief from her skirt pocket and dabbed her forehead. “Just tell me that this is heading somewhere.”
“Allow me,” Ed continued. “The chambers below the
White House are going to take some time for intensive investigations, but the discoveries made thus far must not reach the outside world.” He placed his hand on the table and stared at her.
“May I see the message?” she asked.
“Of course,” Ed answered, turning one of the pages around so she could see it. “Here is a message we found hidden by one of the murdered men. Part of it looks to be encoded.”
She crossed her arms, glancing down at it, “I’m ready.”
Ed began reading,
“None... of... us... have... revealed what they seek.
Only three left alive for a brief time.
Ed looked up and attempted to read her response. She appeared unaffected by what he read. He then read the second part,
8-1-3-2-I-k-2
“Your analysis,” she asked.
“The message was obviously meant for someone other than us,” Ed answered. “We just have to keep in mind that they were dying and this hidden message may have been their last resort...but why?”
“Why?” Ms. Churchill prodded.
Alex chimed in. “Pardon me for playing catch-up here, but these men or one of them held a secret that someone wanted badly enough...”
“To murder them,” Natalie said, finishing his statement.
“Yes,” Ed added. “When we were deciphering Nazi codes during World War Two, we would often encounter situations like this, but very different circumstances, of course. When someone who held important information knew that their days, hours, or minutes were numbered, they would very often leave a clue or several clues as to what the secret was.”
“Or,” Alex interjected, holding a finger up, “often to mislead us and anyone who found it.”
“Precisely,” Ed said, turning the page back around to face him. He then continued, “The first part of the message is an attempt to describe their situation, and reports that the secret was not revealed; that is clear. The five numbers and two letters are the second part of the message and are a clue as to what the secret was.”
“If it is a clue about the bomb,” Ms. Churchill said, glancing at Natalie, “I think we found it.”
“I don’t think it is,” Ed said, tapping the page.
“Well, then?” Ms. Churchill asked.
Ed held his head down looking at the series of five numbers and two letters. He was quiet for a bit longer than expected and Ms. Churchill prodded again, “Well?”
Ed smiled, placed his pointed finger next to the sequence and straightened up. He then slid his finger directly under the first number. “During the war,” he explained, “we would often spend countless hours looking at numbers like this, researching every hypothetical possibility and every scenario the enemy could possibly throw at us.”
Alex continued for him, “Sometimes it was such a production that we missed the obvious.”
Ed then pulled out a pencil and rewrote the sequence.”
2KI 2318
“A license plate number?” Ms. Churchill quickly asked.
Ed waved his finger back and forth. “Unfortunately, I don’t think cars existed when this was written.”
Natalie pursed her lips as if she was going to plant a kiss on someone and blurted out, “Second Kings: Chapter 23:Verse 18! It’s a Biblical passage.”
“Under ten seconds,” Ed said.
“Impressive,” Ms. Churchill responded. “Scary, but impressive.”
Ed reached down and with his pencil added a colon.
2KI 23:18
After Ed added the colon, he reached into his bag and pulled out Al’s Bible. He turned to II Kings, chapter 23, verse 18. He immediately noticed that it had already been underlined. He smiled and explained, “This Bible was given to Al in Rome by the 19th degree Masons.” He handed the Bible to Natalie, knowing that she would know what he was hinting at. “Can you please read out loud the underlined part?”
She gently took it and began reading,
“And he said, let him alone; let no man move his bones. So they let his bones alone, with the bones of the prophet that came out of Samaria.”
“Notice the mention of bones,” Ed asked.
Natalie spoke first. “It’s weird that one of these guys that wrote this passage about bones is now a pile of bones.”
Alex seemed to catch Ms. Churchill’s puzzled look and explained, “When you are working with Masons you have to understand that they work with signs and symbols and this Biblical passage is intended to be a message of some fashion.”
Ms. Churchill moved closer, glanced at the passage and asked, “Any idea what it means?”
At that moment, the door swung open again and one of the security men entered, walking directly up to Ms. Churchill, and handing her a note. He was out of breath, as if he had just finished a short marathon. “I apologize for the interruption, Ma’am, but this is urgent.”
She grabbed the note and read it. She looked up at him. “When did this happen?”
“Under an hour ago.”
She turned to Natalie. “You had suggested earlier that I pay special attention to any unusual Templar-type activity, correct?”
Natalie seemed almost embarrassed by her statement and answered, “Um, yeah, I guess. Why?”
Ms. Churchill handed the message over to Ed. He read it over, handed it back to her, and said, “The knights have attacked a university.”
Ms. Churchill turned to her security man. “Get this message encrypted and send it to the President and Secretary of Defense immediately.” He turned and ran out, slamming the door shut as he did.
The CIA director then turned to Natalie and said, “Young lady, since you predicted this, I need you to accompany me to brief the president.”
“Oh, okay,” Natalie replied, looking at Ed and Alex for support.
“It’s okay, my dear,” Ed said. ‘You have a very good grasp of the situation and the president needs your counsel.”
Natalie visibly took a deep breath, “Wow, I wish my dad could see this.”
Ms. Churchill motioned with her head. “Let’s move it.”
As they departed the room, Ed and Alex silently sat back down and Alex commented, “The Brotherhood is on the attack here.”
“Yes, they are,” Ed said.
“We are running out of time.”
“Yes, we are.”
“Do you think the CIA director has any idea what is going on?” Alex asked.
Ed shook his head, “No.”
Alex let out a deep breath and grabbed one of the pages. He read it over for a few moments. “I would like to start with the bomb and the chamber it was in,” he paused. handing the page to Ed. “You say this was written on the side of the bomb?”
“Stenciled in black directly on the metal.”
Alex began reading,
“Moved from Tilmun... In preparation of the Loftiest.”
Ed squared himself with the computer, turned it on, and typed in ‘Tilmun.’ “It says here that in Sumerian it’s,” he paused, and wrote it down,
TIL.MUN
“And the meaning?” Alex asked.
“Literally,” Ed said, glaring at the monitor, “land of the missiles.”
“And who came up with that term?”
“Good question,” Ed said as he typed away. He then asked without looking up from the keyboard, “How are you feeling, by the way?”
“Still feeling the latent effects of the drugs but overall feeling peachy. Why? Who’s asking?”
Ed stood up and gathered his papers. “I have a better idea; let me show the chamber to you in person.”
Alex slowly got up. “I thought you would never ask.”
Chapter Nineteen
“H-mm,” Dr. Hamilton said, as she placed the brownish long bone lengthwise on the metal table. This was the fourth of ten skeletons she and her assistant had examined. They were battered and mixed up and she wasn’t told where they came from; just do a thorough examination on each of them, she was told, and report back to the CIA director in
person. She had never met Ms. Churchill but she’d heard through the grapevine that she was one heck of a controlling witch.
As expected, the muscles, skin, and a majority of the soft tissue had disintegrated over the many years of exposure. A few petrified ligaments and tendons were barely holding a few finger joints together. Scalp hair was intact. She was not sure how these people died, but judging by the age of these skeletons and the clothing, this was appearing to be a job for an archaeologist, not a forensic specialist. But whatever, it was her job.
Hamilton placed the leg bone down and reached for the left arm bone. She gripped the radius and ulna bones of the forearm and placed it lengthwise so she could examine it. With her gloved hand, she carefully gripped the tattered sleeve and slowly pulled it backwards towards the shoulder. Once she reached the elbow area, she repositioned herself and continued carefully pulling the clothing upward towards the shoulder. She was instructed to preserve the clothing as much as possible; which meant no cutting. When the sleeve and her hand were about two inches past the elbow, she noticed something.
Etching? Couldn’t be. The bone seemed to have unusual markings that weren’t the normal scratches. She carefully removed her hand just in case she was misreading something that was normal. She stood there for a while visually assessing the bone. She stepped to the head of the table and briefly reassessed the situation. She was a scientist by nature and knew what to expect and what she just saw didn’t add up. She tightened her gloves with a snap and continued removing the clothing. As she did, a distinct groove appeared in the bone. A groove that she now determined with absolute certainty was not normal, or at least not what she considered normal.
She spent several seconds staring at the bone before deciding how to continue. She tilted her head, contemplating what to do. The bone had a distinct groove that was definitely not a muscular tendon groove or an animal bite mark. Generally, animal bite marks were clearly widthwise, not lengthwise as these marks were.
The doctor carefully observed the indentations before sliding the clothing farther up the bone. For some reason, this unusual development was exciting her. Before she went further, she allowed her calculating mind to play with possibilities. Could this be an old injury? No, the only possibility could be a knife wound; deep enough to carve the bone? It would have to be an interesting wound to look like letters. She reached down and pulled the sleeve up further. As she did, a clear pattern of darkened indentations appeared.