Babylon Prophecy

by Sean Salazar

  “I am sorry for what has happened,” Vance said.

  Al grabbed Vance’s shoulder to slow him down and pointed to the cars and said, “That was done by the horses.”

  Vance stopped and they both walked over to get a better view of the scene.

  The officer stepped up next to them and said, “Crazy, huh?”

  “Shit,” Vance said looking at the cars. “How big did you say the horses were?”

  “Well, from the pictures and cell phone videos, they were the largest horses I have ever seen.”

  Al stepped between two of the cars to get a view from the other side. “I can tell one of the horses ran on top of the cars and one of the horses ran through the grass.” Al pointed to deep hoof prints in the grass that ran parallel to the cars.

  Al knelt down and put his hand over the print and spread out his scratched-up fingers. “This print is twice the size of my hand.”

  Vance gave him a funny look motioning to the young female officer. “I wouldn’t brag about that, buddy.”

  Al shook his head and stood up, “Okay, let’s go look at the attack scene.”

  As they approached the building steps, Al noticed several uniformed officers standing around the entrance. As they walked up, some of them looked surprised.

  Noticing the officers’ reaction, the female officer commented, “Don’t mind them, I think they were expecting official Washington, D.C. types in black trench coats.”

  “Not an old goat like Al here, eh?” Vance commented.

  She laughed slightly, then replied, “Well, we were all ordered to wait outside of the building until the Feds did their investigation first. The local boys are not really into being dictated to by the federal government.”

  Al saw one of the officers snap a picture with his cell phone and turned his head to avoid direct shots. He answered, “I don’t blame them.”

  “And,” she said smiling, “rumors are spreading very fast about what is in there that is so important.”

  “Like what?” Vance asked smartly.

  She continued leading them into the building and answered, “Everything and everything.”

  “Oh,” Al responded, unsure of what she was trying to say.

  She led them up one flight of an old wood staircase and down a hallway typical of universities. She stopped next to strips of yellow tape crossing over a completely destroyed section of wall where a door once stood.

  “This is the only room on campus that we know they entered,” the officer said as she pulled the tape over.

  “They blew the door in?” Vance asked.

  “That’s what it looks like,” she answered.

  Al stood in front of the hole, and then stepped back a few feet. “If they did, where are the burn marks?” He continued looking at the edge of the hole where wood and old plaster wall dangled. The hole was twice as wide on both sides of where the door was. Al pointed to the door lying inside the room in two pieces, “I don’t think so.”

  “Don’t think what?” the officer asked.

  “The wall was kicked in,” Vance answered for him, pointing to the broken door.

  “This wall and door were kicked in?”

  “Yep,” Vance acknowledged.

  She stepped over the debris and pointed around the room to several cabinets with the doors ripped off their hinges. “They were obviously looking for something.”

  Al looked around the laboratory-type room. He could definitely tell that it was used for research and by the pictures on the wall, the Middle Eastern type. Along all four walls were dozens of shelves, cabinets and other storage units with wood and glass doors and every one of them ripped off their hinges.

  She then walked over to a large center table and said, “The knights entered the room, searched every cabinet, nook and cranny, and then destroyed this section of table.” She paused and added as she crossed her arms, “Not necessarily in that order.”

  Al looked over the table and asked, “Do you know what this table was used for?” Just as he asked that, another young woman stepped into the room ducking through the dangling debris and answered, “It’s an antiquities table.”

  “Oh, hi Doc,” the officer said, as though they were friends. She then added, “This is Dr. Zohar, and since this is her lab, I asked her to assist with questions, if that is okay?”

  Al and Vance both noticed her enter. An attractive blonde, she wore a white lab coat and had a distinguished look. Al also noticed the grace she used to navigate the debris as she stepped in. Something about her screamed out that she was some type of athlete.

  “Be my guest,” Vance said. He seemed taken aback by her beauty. Typical of him. Someday it’s going to bite him in the ass, thought Al, noticing Vance’s stare.

  She stepped over and shook both their hands with a strong and firm grip. She then walked over to the smashed section of the table and peered underneath. “There is an antiquities drawer here, or was here.”

  Al stepped to the side of the table and asked, “Was this your classroom?”

  She stood up and answered, “No, but I use it often.”

  “Whose classroom is it then?” asked Vance.

  “The professor who ran the lab is Dr. Golb.”

  “May I ask what the doctor was working on?” Al asked.

  She ran her hand along the undamaged part of the table, observing it closely. She stopped at the part that had a crushed section. “He used this table to examine ancient scrolls. Actually,” she paused, “he designed and rebuilt parts of the table just for that purpose.”

  Ancient scrolls, Al thought, exchanging glances with Vance. He should have known. Why else would knights on horses attack a university, destroy property, and kill innocent people. No matter how twisted this scenario was, he knew now they were on the right track. He had to play it cool because at this point, everyone was suspect.

  “The question is,” Vance interrupted, “what was here that was important enough for the knights to crash into this room and crush this table?”

  Al could tell that Vance was playing dumb.

  Dr. Zohar turned and pointed to a long, framed picture on the wall. “Do you recognize that?”

  Al glanced at the picture that was a rectangular image of a piece of tarnished metal and answered, “No, should I?”

  “It’s one of the Dead Sea scrolls.”

  Al looked back at Vance who had the ‘what the hell are idiots like us doing here?’ look. He glanced back at her and lied, “Yes, I am familiar with the Dead Sea scrolls.” What he meant to say was that he had only heard of them.

  Vance rolled his eyes in a ‘you’re full of it’ response, and asked, “So, you’re saying he was working on a Dead Sea scroll?”

  “Yes and no. The one he was working on was from the same time period.”

  Al walked over, examined the picture on the wall and as he did asked, “Was there anything unusual about the scroll that would make someone want to kill for it?”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “Was the scroll he was working on rare or valuable?”

  “All scrolls from that time period are extremely rare and valuable, if that is what you’re asking.”

  Al finished examining the picture and walked down the row of demolished cabinets, running his hand along the top. He really had no idea how to question someone properly without using force. He paused and turned around, “Would you...”

  “Do you know where he got the damn scrolls?” Vance asked, cutting him off.

  For the briefest moment, she seemed taken aback by the question, lowering her guard. “I just... just know that he was using a special technique unrolling it.”

  “And,” Al stared at her.

  “Rumor has it,” she said, “well, I heard today that he announced that he successfully opened it.”

  “How long had he been working on it? I mean the scroll,” Vance asked.

  She walked over and gazed at the picture. Al noticed that she was clearly thinking. She turned
around. “Not too long I think, but what I do know is that it was a previously unknown scroll.”

  “That is an important fact,” Vance said.

  She turned and looked at the picture again. “He didn’t really give me the details other than that he had successfully unrolled it.”

  “Would you know the whereabouts of this Dr. Golb?” Al asked.

  Officer Shandra chimed in, “He is missing.” She pointed to the rear of the room, “It’s possible that if he was here when the knights attacked, he escaped through there.”

  Al stepped over to the area where a door once was. He saw the actual door at the bottom of some steps and asked without turning around, “When was the last time you had contact with the doctor?”

  Both women hesitated. Dr, Zohar spoke up first, “Whom are you asking?”

  “You.”

  She hesitated briefly before answering, “Maybe an hour before the attack. I ran into him after a meeting he had with the backers of the project.”

  Al glanced at his watch, turned around, and walked back to the table. Something about her answer did not seem right. “Do you know who the backers are?”

  “No, not really,” Dr. Zohar answered flatly. “I attended a few of the meetings when Dr. Golb gave progress reports to them, but I was never actually told who they were. I always assumed they were part of a museum or something.”

  “Were the meetings in the same room?” Al asked.

  She paused, eyeing him suspiciously and slowly answered, “Yes.”

  “Excuse me,” Vance said, politely nodding to the doctor and the officer. He then motioned for Al to step outside the room with him. They ducked under the dangling wall remains into the hallway.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Vance whispered.

  “Investigating. Why?”

  “You’re a sorry excuse for an investigator.”

  “Aw, come on, darling, don’t you ever have faith in me?”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Do you have any other ideas then?”

  Vance straightened up, “No, should I?”

  “Well I do, but the question is how deep do you want to go with this?”

  “You tell me,” Vance shot back. “I’m more interested in tracking down those medieval horses and knights, posing with them, and making some postcards.”

  “Yeah, that’s nice,” Al said. “But Ed made it very clear that our Brotherhood is using universities and museums as cover, so I’m thinking of maybe looking for the doctor or the mysterious characters that were supporting the doctor’s research.” He looked back into the room at the doctor and the two women were talking to each other. “By the way, I think Zohar is hiding something.”

  “If the doctor is missing,” Vance said, “then either he got away or the knights got him. Another thing that is clear is that these fuckers have some damn accurate snipers.” He leaned in and whispered, “I know how you like snipers, and if they are still around, they may be watching.”

  “Got it,” Al answered, realizing that Vance was right. He stepped back inside through the debris and asked, “Could one of you ladies show us to the room where the doctor met with his backers.”

  Dr. Zohar looked at the officer for approval and she nodded. “Yes, I can do that.”

  They followed the women on foot to a group of buildings a short distance across campus. The doctor led them directly inside a two-story administration building and up a flight of stairs to the second floor. She walked directly to a door and said, “This is where they meet.” She reached down and turned the knob. “It’s locked.”

  The officer got on her radio and asked campus security to bring over a master key. A few minutes later a young man came running up the steps and opened the door. She thanked him by name and the young man departed. She opened the door, held it open, and let them in. “I’ll wait outside,” she said.

  Al stepped in first and looked around the office, which appeared normal. A desk, a few chairs, old wood flooring, and a comfortable recliner. Two full bookshelves covering the entire wall stood behind the desk and a large window was on the right.

  “So you say,” Vance began, “this is where the supporters of Dr. Golb’s project worked?”

  “I believe so,” Dr. Zohar answered. “Like I said, I sat in on a few meetings and they were all right here.”

  Al didn’t know if a warrant was needed to dig around but didn’t care. If he asked the officer, she would probably say no, so he didn’t bother. He checked the desk drawers and thumbed through the items inside; nothing stood out.

  “What were the meetings about?” Vance continued.

  Well,” she said, “they were primarily about the scroll and the timing of translating it.”

  “Which happened today,” Vance said.

  She appeared puzzled how to answer the question. “The writing that was exposed when Dr. Golb first began unrolling it was not like the classical Hebrew from the other Dead Sea scrolls. And,” she continued, “I do know that he didn’t attempt to

  decipher or translate it until the entire scroll was properly opened.” Al wasn’t sure how to continue questioning her without pissing her off. “I apologize for interrogating you like this, but could you explain what you mean by an unknown language?”

  “That’s it,” she replied with a sense of irritability. “It was an unknown language and these meetings were discussions about what was found.”

  Al glanced at Vance who returned an ‘okay, you were right’ look. “So,” he asked, chiming in with his own question, “what was the verdict?”

  “I don’t know if there was a verdict. Dr. Golb supposedly finished unrolling the scroll today.”

  Al could tell that she was becoming irritated with the questioning and crossed her arms indicating a sense of defiance. He paused with the interrogation, walked over and briefly observed the dozens of perfectly placed books on the shelves. The bookcase was large and covered the entire back wall from floor to ceiling. In fact, the books looked too perfect and exactly lined up together as if they were never touched. He stepped back and in the gentlest voice he could muster, asked, “Did... Dr. Golb know how to translate the unknown language?”

  “I do not know,” she said. “His specialty was unraveling ancient manuscripts that most scientists end up practically destroying. Then they spend their entire career putting them back together.” She returned a question with a suspicious tone, “Being from the federal government, you two seem somewhat overly concerned about the doctor’s research, or am I plainly reading that wrong?”

  “Interesting observation,” Al said, then, glossing over her comment, “It’s very important that I know how far along the doctor was on translating the language?”

  “That I don’t know.”

  Now Al sensed that she was definitely holding back something.

  Vance must have sensed the same thing and asked her, “Did he ever show you this strange language?”

  “No,” she answered. She walked towards the door indicating that she was finished answering questions.

  “Vance,” Al said, changing the subject. “Doesn’t this room look a bit too regular or...”

  Vance finished his statement, “You mean not ever used?”

  “Exactly,” Al answered. “You would think if a meeting was here right before the knights attacked, then it would have that lived-in look.” He turned to the doctor and asked, “Is this how the office typically looked?”

  “Not really.” She sighed, obviously not wanting to continue with this conversation.

  Al walked over to the desk and then turned around again facing the bookshelf. He looked around a few more moments and then stepped to the window to look outward from the second story. There was another similar structure about forty yards away, separated by grass and a cement sidewalk. He had that nagging feeling that he was missing something. He turned around and said, “Okay, there is nothing here, let’s go.”

  Vance turned and was virtually out the door whe
n Al saw something he had missed on the floor in front of the bookshelf. He knelt down, brushed the spot with his hand, and felt a very light groove carved into the wood floor. It angled towards the bookshelf. He followed the mark to the bottom of the section of the shelf that connected to the floor. “Wait,” he said out loud.

  Vance came back over, put his hand on Al’s shoulder and asked, “What?”

  “A scratch on the floor,” Al said, looking up at him.

  “Not quite the smoking cigar,” Vance said, “So let’s boogie.”

  Al stood up and noticed the doctor watching them examine the floor. She didn’t seem upset anymore and seemed interested in what they were doing. He glanced back at the scratch. “This might indicate...”

  At that moment, a voice yelled out from the doorway, “Big bad ass fuckers.”

  Al turned around and watched a man with a wrapped-up shoulder walk into the room.

  Vance walked over to him and shook his good hand. He looked back at Al, “He’s one of us.”

  Al stood up and shook the man’s hand. He was well over six-foot-five, but looking rather beat up. “What does ‘one of us’ mean?”

  “Agency therapist at your service,” the man said. “I moonlight teaching a few classes here.”

  “This is Agent Chris Nelson,” Vance said, patting his back as if he already knew him.

  Al noticed the doctor and officer now standing by the steps together. “You’re the crazy guy who shot it out with the knights?” Al asked.

  “It’s a long story, but I’m glad to see you here. So, who the hell were those knights?”

  “You tell me,” Al answered.

  Chris raised his arm with the sling, “Damn knights were bulletproof. I hit them with 9mm and 5.56’s and nothing; didn’t even slow them down.”

  “Too bad you had to learn that the hard way,” Vance said.

  “I hit the knight in under thirty yards with the AR-15 I borrowed from the dead cops, and the damn thing just kept coming.” He paused and his demeanor changed to sadness. “They killed a bunch of Muslim kids up the street.”