Babylon Prophecy

by Sean Salazar

  Natalie retrieved her papers, folded down the seat next to her, and placed them on top as a makeshift table. She then asked, “Mr. Pike, are you a veteran?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said. “I was a Sherman tank driver during the war, or should I say for about half a day at least.”

  Natalie tilted her head in thought, giving Alex an inquisitive glance. “You’re not saying the Vietnam War, are you?”

  Alex laughed for the first time since his rescue. “Oh no! Two decades before. You know, the big one.”

  Natalie again gave him another inquisitive glance. “World War Two?”

  “Yes, my dear.”

  Ed eyed the communication equipment built into the sides of the vehicle and Alex commented, “Wondering if you can link up with Buckingham Palace, eh?”

  “The thought had occurred to me,” Ed said.

  The driver turned around and interrupted them, “I just got a message to tell you folks that the hole is all clear.”

  “What was the damage?” Ed asked.

  “I don’t know, but the messages are indicating that whoever did it was focusing on destroying the wall.”

  Ed turned to Alex, “Whoever did this would have to know that the area was documented. Why else would they risk being discovered by destroying the writing?”

  “Good question,” Alex said, and then added, “Unless you missed something, which is very likely.”

  “Do you think they destroyed the brass statues?” Natalie asked.

  “Definitely yes,” Ed said. “The identity of those statues was one mystery we had not solved yet.”

  She then asked, “You mentioned that the writing on the wall was connected to other writings you found?”

  “Well, yes and no,” Ed said. “What we have been gathering over the years are multiple pieces of a massive puzzle.”

  “Must be difficult to solve.”

  Ed smiled, “Yes, very much so.”

  Alex chimed in, “At times the pieces can be very difficult to place, but I have to admit that we have been rather fortunate up to this point.”

  Eventually, the vehicle began to slow and then stopped. “We are here,” the driver announced.

  Alex reached over and opened the rear door and they all climbed out into a parking lot.

  A woman with a white coat stood there holding her hair as a gust of wind whipped at her. “Mr. Collins?” she asked.

  “Yes,” Ed answered. “This is Alex Pike and our assistant Natalie.”

  “I’m Dr. Hamilton. Thanks for coming on such short notice. Please follow me.”

  They followed her into the building and when the door closed, Dr. Hamilton continued, “I was given the task of examining the remains of very old corpses and we found something that may interest you.”

  “Thank you for your help,” Ed said.

  She led the way down a wide corridor and into a room with two white swinging doors. She then walked between two rows of five stainless steel tables. A battered skeleton lay on each one in various stages of examination.

  Natalie stepped to the outside and walked along the tables, slowly looking at each clothed skeleton. “They look a lot different in here under the light,” she said.

  Dr. Hamilton replied, “They are completely scrambled but we were able to organize them somewhat, using the attached clothing and bone measurements.”

  Ed stood next to one of the tables. “What have you discovered?”

  “Right here,” Dr. Hamilton said, stopping at the side of a table. Her assistant approached with a pair of gloves and handed them to her. She slipped them on and said as she reached in, “This is the humorous bone and...” she pulled up the tattered and frayed sleeve, “we found this.” She stopped and glanced at Ed.

  What Ed saw surprised him and he almost snatched the bone out of her hand. She saw his excitement, and stepped aside.

  “I have seen this before,” Ed said, as he looked at the dark brown, yellowish bone. Black scratches in the shape of letters traveled along the shaft of the bone.

  “You have?” Dr. Hamilton asked, puzzled.

  Ed realized that he had misspoken. “Yes, my dear; I’m referring to a secret way of relaying messages.”

  Ed stepped aside to show Alex and Natalie. He then asked Dr. Hamilton, “Did they tell you where these bodies came from?”

  “No,” she answered, “no, they didn’t.”

  “They were discovered in a tunnel under this city,” Ed said, “and together.”

  “They were found together?”

  “Yes, they were,” Ed answered. “As a matter of fact...” he pulled notes out of his bag, fumbled through a few pages until he found what he was looking for, and handed it to Natalie, “Would you mind reading that, my dear?”

  Natalie looked at the page and nodded, “Okay.” She began reading, “Second Kings, Chapter twenty-three, Verse eighteen,

  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.”

  She lowered the page and added, “So you think that’s it?”

  “Apparently,” Ed said, “as a last resort to keep their secret hidden, the dying men put this Biblical verse on the wall and hid it in hopes that one of their brethren would some day decipher it.”

  Alex spoke up, “If that is true, then whatever secret these men had was going to die with them.”

  “Very true,” Ed said, eyeing the bone. “They held on to their message to the end.”

  Natalie glanced back down at the page and began reading the message she wrote down from the chamber,

  “None of us have revealed what they seek. Only three left alive for a brief time.”

  She looked up, “Oh, my god, you are right.”

  “Interesting,” Dr. Hamilton said, stepping closer to the table.

  “Yes, doctor?” Alex inquired.

  She folded her hands in front of her and said, “If what you’re saying is correct, then that confirms that they died at different times.” She stepped to the head of the table and continued. “After examining all of these skeletons, my theory is that when each person either passed away or succumbed to his injuries, the others cut him open, carved the message, and then placed the muscle over the bone to conceal it.” She pointed, “You can tell by the blackened scratches. If someone had done it after the bodies decomposed by several days perhaps, then the scratches would be the same color as the bone itself. But these scratches are stained dark...”

  “By blood,” Ed said, finishing her statement.

  “Is it possible that they were still alive when they did this?” Natalie asked, her face contorted in disgust.

  “Not likely,” Dr. Hamilton answered. “I would guess that when they died, the others opened him up quickly soon afterward, carved the message, and then closed up the wound.”

  “That’s better,” Natalie said.

  “Well,” Alex said, “their plan worked.”

  “That would be my assessment,” Dr. Hamilton said. “And,” she continued, “we found several messages carved in the bones in five of the individuals here.” She reached past Ed and pointed to the bone he was holding. “This was the first one I found.”

  Ed stepped out of her way and asked, “Natalie, can you please write this down?”

  Natalie pulled out her pen and pad. “I’m ready.”

  Ed glanced at the writing and read from left to right,

  “The two hills divided.”

  Dr. Hamilton then walked to another table and pointed to the left leg bone. “Here is another one.”

  Ed followed her, leaned over it to read the message,

  “The tavnit is.”

  Natalie wrote it down, “Got it.”

  Dr. Hamilton then stepped to the next table and touched the right leg bone, “And here.”

  Alex stepped up and read it,

  “Whom god judges.”

  Dr. Hamilton’s assistant stood by another table and pointed to another femu
r bone and said, “Another one.”

  Natalie stepped over and read it,

  “A page between the Presbyterians and Methodists.”

  Dr. Hamilton stepped up to the center table on the left row, “That’s it.”

  Natalie handed the pad to Ed. He then read them in order, “The two hills divided. The tavnit is. Whom god judges. A page between the Presbyterians and Methodists.” He glanced at Dr. Hamilton and the assistant, “You have confirmed that there are no more?”

  “Were you expecting more?” the assistant answered, sarcastically.

  “Only wishful thinking,” Alex replied.

  “No, that’s it,” Dr. Hamilton answered.

  Ed paused a moment and then asked, “Doctor, you wouldn’t by any chance have deciphered when these gentlemen died?”

  “That’s a tough question,” she said, walking up to one of the tables. “It could be anywhere between fifty to over a hundred years. I checked the clothing style and it resembled the late eighteen hundreds.”

  “Is there any way to figure that out?” Natalie asked.

  “Again, that is a tough one. They are all bashed up and bugs and rats have been chewing on them for who knows how long. Give me a day or so and I will see what our lab can come up with.”

  “Thank you, Doctor Hamilton,” Ed said. Turning to Alex and Natalie, “Our job is done here.”

  He led the way back to the armored vehicle.

  Once they were inside, the driver turned on the engine and asked, “Next stop?”

  “Hold on,” Ed said, placing his laptop on the table and turning it on. “The writing under the White House and now the writing on the bones.”

  Alex crossed his arms and let out a large sigh, “We definitely have our work cut out for us.”

  “Alex,” Ed said, “since you are the smart one here, and I use that term lightly...”

  “Don’t get cute with me,” Alex said.

  “I’m ready to assist in any way I can,” Natalie said.

  “Considering that you and I are supposedly either dead or captured,” Ed stated confidently, “I think it fits.” He turned to the driver who was waiting patiently at the helm. “Driver,” he said loudly.

  “Yes?”

  “Just drive around awhile, we’ve got work to do.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Athens, Georgia

  Once Al and Vance’s small government jet touched down and parked, a CIA officer greeted them at the bottom of the metal stairs. The agent had an urgent look in his eyes. As they were shaking hands he said, “I’m Agent Howell and let me tell you, it’s been difficult, but we were just able to hold off local investigators from entering the university.”

  “Okay, thanks,” Al replied.

  “This way,” Howell said, leading them off the tarmac. “But I can tell you right now that it will not last long.”

  “I don’t blame them,” Vance commented.

  “Have you two been debriefed?” the agent asked.

  Al scratched his scruffy cheek, “Hell, no.”

  “All we got was that knights attacked a school here,” Vance added.

  Howell continued talking as he walked, “Okay, there are two locations—one on campus and one off. There are rumors of one more but I haven’t confirmed it.” He stopped and opened the sliding door of a beige minivan.

  Al and Vance climbed into the center seat and Howell slid the door shut and climbed in the front. Once the SUV took off, he twisted his torso and continued, “Get this, the campus building was attacked and four or five students were killed, along with three local cops, but these guys dressed like knights also slaughtered about twenty Muslim students directly off-campus. Friends and family are showing up by the dozens— all Muslims and social radicals demanding to enter the crime scene.”

  “Any reason why they would attack the university?” Al asked.

  “Don’t know,” Howell answered. “If it’s a terrorist attack, then it could have been a diversion tactic to occupy the local police while they attacked the Muslim kids.”

  Al leaned forward, “Do you know where they attacked on campus?”

  “Other than the shootout, I’m hearing that it was the archaeology building or something like that.”

  Al turned to Vance, “Archaeology; that has to be the Brotherhood.”

  “Making a point,” Vance added.

  “Pardon?” Howell asked.

  “Nothing,” Vance said, and turning to Al, “I have a hunch attacking the Muslims was the diversion.”

  “I think you’re right,” Al said. He then leaned forward again. “Agent Howell, go ahead and release the area where the Muslims were killed. Don’t give the crowds an excuse to start rioting. Just keep the actual shooting area clear for local investigators. We just need to see it. I don’t think we are going to find anything there.”

  Howell gave a brief puzzled look but turning back around said, “Right away.” He grabbed his cell phone and immediately began giving instructions. He closed his cell. “That should take some of the pressure off.”

  As soon as the SUV exited the gate of the airport, a group of waiting police cruisers turned on their sirens and began leading the way through traffic.

  A short time later, they pulled into a section of campus that Al figured was the entry point of the knights, considering the obvious presence of a dozen police cars and mobile television crews. Once the SUV slowed, Al noticed several news reporters doing live reports—interviewing the crowd, mainly students. Several media vans were close by with extended transmission dishes.

  They slowly drove farther in and hundreds of people were outside a cordoned-off area. Several officers noticed their arrival and quickly went into action, making a path for the SUV to enter. They were waved through the roped-off area. Only a few people were there, but as they passed through Al noticed people taking pictures of parked cars. As they got closer, he saw why: The hoods and roofs looked bashed in as if something heavy had dropped on them.

  Al tapped Vance’s arm and he responded with, “Yeah, yeah, I see that. It looks like King Kong came stomping through here.”

  They reached a second roped-off area and were again waved through. The area was completely blocked off by several men toting military-style weapons. At this point, there were no media crews, only police officers.

  The SUV pulled into an open stall and the three of them climbed out. The agent pointed to a grassy section where a police officer was standing near a small tree. “She is the one you need to talk to.”

  “Thank you,” Al said.

  He handed Al his card. “Call if you need anything.”

  As they approached, she said in her southern accent, “Are you two the federal investigators?”

  “Yes,” Al replied, handing his identification to her. “We’re here to take a look at the location the knights attacked.”

  “I’m Shandra and appointed by the sheriff to escort you two. I was informed that you boys were on your way,” she said, looking at his ID. She then handed it back and looked at Vance’s. As she read it over, she explained with sincerity in her voice, “We’re just a small town and nothing even remotely close to this has ever happened before. I just simply don’t understand why anybody would do such a horrible thing.” She handed the card back to Vance, turned her head and said, “This way, please.”

  “What exactly happened?” Vance asked, stepping to her side to keep pace with her.

  “Well, it all depends on who is telling the story. They range wildly from ten-foot unicorns to horses with wings.” She was silent for a few paces and continued, “The knights were first spotted outside of town leaving the woods on massive horses. At first, from the stories I heard, people thought they were some type of parade or something. You know, or a college prank. Then, they shot and killed an officer and rode the horses through town and onto campus.” She pointed to a police car with shattered glass and bullet holes all over it as she walked. “There was a shootout over there with two officers.”
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  Al and Vance remained silent waiting for her to finish what she was going to say. “They were both friends of mine.” She shook her head sadly.

  They continued walking silently for a few seconds and she added, “An armed professor here also shot it out with them.”

  “How is he?” Al asked, several paces behind her.

  “Uh, he is okay. He was injured, but got debriefed and is around here somewhere. I think he is also waiting for you boys.”

  “You said he shot it out with them?” Al asked.

  “Tough guy,” Vance commented.

  The officer laughed solemnly, “Yeah, the rumor is he’s former military or something. He kept the knights busy so they shot less people... supposedly.”

  “Even better,” Al said. “Is there any way we could have a few words with him?”

  “I don’t see why not. He should be close by all bandaged up,” she answered, unclipping a radio from her shoulder. She spoke a few words and replaced it. “I asked for someone to find him.”

  “Thank you,” Al said.

  “I don’t mean to be nosy,” the officer asked, “but may I ask where you two came from?”

  “D.C,” Vance answered.

  “You came all the way out here to investigate an office?”

  “We were already there following up on a few leads,” Al answered.

  “Since you are from here,” Vance said, and then asked, “or should I say a local resident, why do you think the campus was attacked?”

  “No one knows, but I heard a few rumors, but nothing really.”

  “Like what?” Vance prodded.

  “Well, what everyone is talking about is that... those knights were the Templars, you know Knights Templar...that they were here to take back what was stolen.” She changed the subject. “Wait until you see the pictures. The knights appeared to be giants, and the horses were just monsters. I have been with horses all my life and when I saw the pictures I seriously couldn’t believe it.” She trailed off her statement with a sense of sadness.

  Al took a second look at a few cars they were passing and saw that the hoods, roofs, and trunks, were bashed in as if they were hit with a giant sledgehammer. Al slowed his pace and glanced at the row of parked cars along the sidewalk.