Babylon Prophecy

by Sean Salazar

  Vance stuck out his chest, “I can just tell by the way she looks at me.”

  “Most girls take a look at you and immediately become constipated.”

  “Being constipated is sexy.”

  Al thought for a second, “What about that hot Doctor Zohar?”

  “Nah,” Vance said. “Smart chicks suck.”

  “What,” Al added, “smart constipated girls don’t like you?”

  “And the doc is probably a snobby martini drinker.”

  Al dumped out the contents, “It’s not like a beer-drinking gal works for you either. Every girl I see you with seems to drink herself into a stupor and passes out.”

  “Aah, just the way I like it,” Vance answered defensively and then added, “and my good looks makes them nervous.”

  “Ha,” Al laughed, “nervous and constipated? That’s hot.”

  “Yeah, go ahead and laugh now,” Vance responded. “I will hook up with Natalie.”

  Al separated the contents, a folded-type driving map and a note page. “We will just have to see about that.” He handed the paper over and Vance unfolded the map.

  Vance grabbed the page and read it, “It says here that we are to head to the area on the map and report what we find; signed Ed Collins.”

  “That’s it?” Al asked, glancing at the map. “This is a road map of someplace.”

  “Ah, shit,” Vance said, “so we’re not going to Vegas?”

  “You catch on quick.”

  Vance turned, and yelled over to the pilot, “Hey asshole, where the hell we going?’

  The pilot turned his helmeted head and grinned, “Gap Mills, West Virginia.”

  “And how far is that?” Vance asked.

  The pilot turned his head for a few seconds, then turned back, “About three hundred miles.”

  “That’s over two hours in this bouncing tin can,” Vance grumbled.

  “I wonder what the hell is in Gap Mills,” Al said as he refolded the map.

  After a long, bumpy flight and two brief stops, the chopper abruptly landed. The door opened and a soldier waved them out. As soon as Vance moved, out of the way, Al recognized the soldier as Captain McCoumb. “Hey, Captain,” he said, climbing out of the chopper.

  “Hello sir, good to see you again. How was your flight?” he asked, shielding his face from the rotor wash.

  “Sucked ass,” Vance answered, stretching out.

  “I bet you want to know what’s going on,” McCoumb said.

  “Well,” Al said, “it would help if we knew what we were doing.”

  “Don’t feel bad. All communications were shut down again. Apparently you guys are being followed.” He then motioned them to a parked car, “Follow me.”

  Vance started walking to the car and asked sarcastically, “Why, who would want to stalk us?”

  McCoumb responded with a concerned look, “Sir, are you kidding?”

  “He’s kidding,” Al immediately answered, giving Vance a mean look. “Be nice to the kid here; we go way back.”

  “Yes sir, Al sir,” Vance answered, opening the door to the driver’s side.

  Al stood by the passenger door and asked, “Where exactly are we going?”

  “You are to head to a town called Gap Mills to investigate a cemetery.”

  “A cemetery?”

  “Yes sir. This may be Amish country, so drive carefully.”

  Vance froze and glanced at Al, “What? Why are we meeting someone at a cemetery? I hate cemeteries.”

  Al opened the door and before he climbed in asked, “Any other instructions?”

  “Nothing specific due to the communications blackout,” McCoumb answered. “All I know is that we are heavily monitoring the area you’re going to, so drive carefully and please act as casual as you can so as not to draw attention.”

  “That bad, eh,” Vance commented.

  “Yeah,” McCoumb said. “But we’re not allowed anywhere near there, so be careful.” He leaned into the car and pointed to the GPS system, “It’s all programmed to take you right where you’re going.”

  “So what are we looking for?” Al asked.

  “I guess you will know when you do. And, if you do discover anything, take a picture of it and send it to me. My number is on that note under the GPS.”

  Al grabbed his hand and shook it, “Okay, thanks Captain.”

  “This is our staging area, so if you need anything just ask.”

  “Got it,” Vance replied. McCoumb snapped a smart salute and they drove off.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  As dusk approached, they drove for about forty-five minutes on Highway 311 and then on Highway 3, passing through a town called Sweet Springs. After another thirty minutes, they entered the outskirts of Gap Mills, which wasn’t much of anything. The part they were driving appeared to be next to a very long, wooded hill on the right and fields on the left with a few houses and farms. The GPS continued leading them down Highway 3 until indicating a turnoff onto Limestone Hill road. Vance slowed down and steered the car onto the small road. After a few winding turns, the GPS indicated they were approaching their destination. “Okay,” Vance said glancing off the road, “so where is this cemetery?”

  With the aid of the street lights Al noticed a Presbyterian church on the left and past that a few scattered tombstones. “Uh, right here, I think.”

  “Ugh,” Vance uttered as he slowed down, “that’s it?”

  “Don’t know,” Al said and then pointed. “Pull over past that next church.”

  Vance passed the church and steered left onto the side road. Slowly he drove as Al observed the scenery. Directly past the rear of the church the main section of the cemetery appeared with rows of small tombstones, most of which looked very old but almost identical. “That must be it,” he said as they passed it.

  Vance pulled over to the side of the road next to a row of trees. “Okay, now what?”

  Al turned to look out the window. Darkness covered the cemetery but from what he could see, it looked relatively normal. He couldn’t determine how long it was but it was about forty yards wide with a small road dividing it lengthwise. “Other than a few trees,” Al said opening the door, “there is not much here.”

  Vance climbed out and quietly shut the door. “It would be easier if we had a clue what we were looking for.”

  Al climbed out, gently closing his door, “I guess we will know it when we find it.”

  “Fine,” Vance said. “You take the left side and I’ll take the right.”

  Al pulled out his small flashlight and stepped between the tombstones, quickly scanning the engraved names and dates. Most all of the grave markers were very worn, making reading them difficult, so he didn’t bother and kept walking. He counted three trees. One by the car and one near the center to the left of the road, which was the tallest. Other than that, nothing looked out of place. Some of the tombstones were larger than the others, but again, nothing looked unusual. He reached the tallest tree and briefly analyzed the tree trunk just in case there was any writing. Seeing none, he continued making his way to the northeast corner. He figured that is where he would start. As he was walking, he paid more and more attention to the writing on the grave markers—not that he was registering any of it—in hopes that something would stand out. Again, nothing.

  Once he reached what he figured was the northeast corner of the cemetery, he noticed something that finally stood out. He had his light on an out-of-place square flat piece of stone about three feet long and twelve inches high. It had patches of moss on it and looked like it had been there a while. He looked in both directions and did not see anyone near the churches, so he knelt down to examine the stone. He could clearly see engraving on the top but the moss had filled it in, making it unreadable. He stood up and continued walking along the north edge of the cemetery. Once he reached the center of the north side, he saw something else out of place—an old tombstone shaped like a chair. It was rough, worn and also had the appearance that i
t had been there for many years. It was about the same size as the tombstones nearby, so he made note of it and moved on. He made it to the same side where Vance was and began walking down the south side.

  Vance was standing in the center of the south side and waved him over with his light. As Al got closer, he noticed him standing by another tombstone shaped like a chair.

  “Whatcha make of that?” Vance asked.

  “I was going to ask you; got one more chair over there.”

  “So we found furniture,” Vance stated sarcastically.

  Al glanced around and did not see any more oddly shaped stones nearby. “Maybe this is what we are supposed to find?”

  “I hope not.”

  “Interesting,” Al said, “hang on.” He then walked to the small bisecting road that seemed to divide the cemetery into two equal halves, and made his way to what he estimated to be the center. He quickly shone his light on each of the nearby tombstones. Making almost one complete circle he found what he was looking for, which was a four-foot high stone shape in front of him. He pointed, “A-ha, gotcha.”

  Vance joined him, holding his light on the object, “Got what?”

  “That rectangular stone block is a representation of a podium.”

  Vance stepped closer to it and asked, “And?”

  “I’ve seen this before.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “On the top of the podium is a stone figure of an open book. Engraved on the book is a square and compass in the shape of a triangle.”

  “So?”

  Al examined the podium briefly to see if any other writing was on it. He didn’t see any so he paced around it talking to himself, “We have a stone podium in the center of the cemetery with an open stone book on top. We also have stone chairs in the center of two of the sides and a square flat stone on the northeast corner.”

  Vance watched him pace around and started to chime in, but Al shot his light at him, cutting him off.

  “And,” Al continued, “I will bet you that tombstones shaped like chairs are on the other two sides of this cemetery.” He turned around and walked back in the direction of the car. He was not even a third of the way there when he saw the distinct shape of a chair and turned towards the north side between the churches. Again, he saw the chair about where he expected it to be—in the center. He stopped and headed back to the podium. When he got there, Vance was leaning against it with his arms crossed, smoking a cigarette.

  “This is important,” Al said.

  Vance blew out a trail of smoke, “I’m not arguing with you.”

  Al knew he had to figure the layout on his own. After a few moments he said, “I think this is what we are supposed to find.” He then walked back to the northeast corner and knelt down next to the square block. With his fingers, he scraped and pulled the moss off the top and then dug it out from the grooves. He stood up when he was done and stared down at it. He still could not decipher the writing, if that is what it was.

  Vance aimed his light at it, “Remember what Captain McCoumb said.”

  “Right,” Al replied, pulling out his PDA. He centered it directly over the block, snapped a picture, typed in a brief message, and then forwarded it to the captain.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Washington, D.C.

  Back at the White House, Ed received the picture from Captain McCoumb. He quickly uploaded it into his computer and watched the picture of a square piece of stone emerge. Alex and Natalie both leaned in to see it.

  “This is from our boys,” Ed said.

  “From the cemetery?” Alex asked.

  “It looks like an odd-shaped tombstone,” Natalie added.

  “Yes,” Ed said. “This is an object they felt we should see.” He leaned in closer and touched the screen. “There is writing in the center of the stone.”

  “It looks Hebrew,” Natalie said.

  “By George,” Alex said excitedly, “I think you’re right.”

  “Now,” Ed said. He thought about it for a few seconds and then asked, “Why would a headstone in a cemetery in West Virginia have Hebrew engraved on it?”

  Natalie shrugged, “They’re Jewish.”

  Alex observed the image for a moment and asked, “Can you increase the clarity?”

  “Let me see,” Ed said, zooming in on the writing. He used the cursor to move the picture around to show different views. “Look. It’s not just Hebrew, it’s Biblical Hebrew.”

  “I see that the vowels are evident below the characters,” Alex said. “Did the boys send a message with it?”

  Ed scrolled the picture up and said, “Yes, they did, and it says that this square block is placed in the northeast corner of the cemetery.” He paused as he continued reading, “In addition, the message states that a stone tombstone shaped like a podium is positioned in the center of the cemetery, with stone chairs in the center of each side.” He scrolled the picture back into the center of the screen, and scooted over, “Alex, what do you make of it?”

  Alex stared directly at the picture for a few seconds and then began writing. He went back and forth a few times while Ed and Natalie watched. Finally, he set down the pen and said, “It’s worn, but if I am not mistaken, I would guess that it’s the Hebrew word for Daniel.”

  Ed looked over at it again and said, “I would concur.” He positioned himself back in front of the computer. “Now the question is, why is it there?”

  Natalie chimed in, “I don’t want to sound silly, but it’s a tombstone, right? Don’t they all have names etched on them?”

  “Yes, they do,” Ed answered and then added, “you may be correct that it’s just a simple flat tombstone, and Alex may be correct that I am on the wrong track, but one thing is certain,” he paused and typed in the name Daniel, “sometimes the clues to many a mystery are, more often than not, directly in front of us.”

  Alex leaned back and crossed his arms. “Wait a minute.” He glanced at Ed, “Think about it. What does the name Daniel mean in Hebrew?”

  Ed slapped the table as the answer hit him, “How foolish of me for not seeing that.”

  “What?” Natalie asked.

  Ed grabbed the pen and wrote Daniel and said, “Biblical names have meanings.”

  “Natalie,” Alex said. “Daniel means God is my judge.” He watched her response.

  She shrugged, “I still don’t get it.”

  “You will now,” Ed said. “Go ahead and show her.”

  Alex brought the tip of the pen back down to the paper and wrote, whom god judges.”

  Natalie perked up, “Oh good grief, that’s what is written on the bone. I should have gotten that.”

  “Yes, it is,” Ed said. “So, if this is correct, we now have three of the four messages deciphered.”

  Alex laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far but we are at least on the right track.”

  She put her hand on Alex’s shoulder. “I feel silly now that the clue was really in front of me.”

  “The question is,” Alex said, tapping Ed’s leg, “where do we go from here?”

  “Well, let’s take a look,” Ed replied, scrolling to the satellite image of the graveyard. He touched the screen, “The square stone would be right here.” He moved his finger over, “and the podium would most likely be this item here.”

  Also observing the scene, Alex added, “The chairs are difficult to make out.”

  “Yes, they are.”

  “Ed,” Alex said, “pull up the typical layout of a Masonic lodge. I have a hunch about something.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Gap Mills cemetery

  After Al sent the message, he said, “Let’s get out of here before some Amish dude figures out we’re snooping around.”

  “Good,” Vance said, flicking his cigarette onto the ground.

  They made their way back to the car and both climbed in. Vance started it, headed to the main road and drove west, back the way they came. After a few minutes, Vance asked, “When do you thin
k Ed will answer?”

  Just as Al was going to answer him his PDA buzzed, “Maybe now,” he said, glancing at it.

  “Well?”

  “You’re not going to like this. They want us to dig it up.”

  “Are you serious?”

  Al bit his lip, “Yeah, the forwarded message from Ed says that the layout of the cemetery is a Masonic lodge and the square block is a symbolic cornerstone. We need to find out what is under it.”

  Vance sighed, “With what, our bare hands?”

  Another message came in, “It says McCoumb is bringing shovels.”

  “Damn it,” Vance responded. “I hate cemeteries.”

  An hour later, they met a soldier on the side of the road and he handed over two shovels, a crowbar, and some rope, and drove off. They then re-entered the cemetery under the cover of darkness. There was not a single light nearby, so the only light to dig by came from their small flashlights.

  “Seriously, man,” Vance whispered, protesting. “Are we really going to do this?”

  “I know,” Al whispered back, “grave robbing is not exactly in your job description, but it sure as hell is in mine.”

  “In all my years in the military and CIA,” Vance added, “I have yet to dig up a grave and, to be honest, this shit is giving me the creeps.”

  Al laughed quietly, “Aw c’mon, you haven’t lived until you’ve dug up someone else’s relatives, especially when they are only a few yards away.”

  “Fine, let’s just get on with it and then get the hell out of here.”

  Al led the way across the road and into the minefield of tombstones. He kept his hand over the light, in hopes no one would see it. He let out just enough light so as not to trip over a tombstone. Slowly, they made their way over to the northeast corner and crouched down.

  Vance placed his tool next to the stone block and with the light Al examined the bottom edges, looking for a place to start digging. He felt around the entire square base; it was solidly in place with no gaps.

  “I hope this doesn’t extend much farther underground,” he whispered. “I can’t grip the bottom.”