by Tim LaHaye
“Do you have any idea if they ever completed the project?”
“That was about sixty-five years ago. I wasn’t even born yet,” said the clerk as he sifted through some old and yellowing papers.
“Here’s a note from one of the inspectors, a Mr. Fritz Schuler. He indicates that most of the project was completed. All they had to get was a final inspection, but it was put off due to insufficient funds to complete the project.”
Murphy smiled to himself.
“That seems to be all the information we have. I hope this has been helpful to you, Mr. Murphy.”
“Yes, you’ve been a great help. Thank you for your time and patience.”
TWO
MURPHY DIDN’T FIND anything that looked like an entrance to a shaft around the four warehouses south of Parkside Drive. He clenched his jaw and struggled to restrain his mounting frustration. Patience was not one of Murphy’s redeeming qualities.
Maybe they built the warehouses over the shaft.
He pulled out the crude map he had drawn of the area while at the Hall of Records. To the west of the last warehouse was a grove of trees. He surveyed the area, trying to imagine where the dance hall and casino might have been located in 1929. He then looked again at the grove of trees.
I’ll bet that’s it, he thought.
The ground under the trees was layered with fallen leaves from countless autumns. For half an hour he searched the area, finding nothing. He ran one hand through his hair while the other pulled out Methuselah’s card.
“Seek, seek, seek like a mouse.” If Methuselah has been here there will be some sign.
Murphy crisscrossed the area, trying to envision where a shaft might have been located.
It would probably be in some type of clearing. They would need to have a road to bring in equipment.
He noticed a large open area in the grove of trees, wide enough apart for equipment to pass between them. As he reached the center of the clearing, he saw that the matted tangle of leaves there had been disturbed. He began to kick back the leaves, revealing old eight-by-eight-inch timbers. He kept removing leaves until he saw the hinges to some kind of door. He cleared away more leaves, until he spied a latch and what looked to be a fairly new padlock.
Methuselah.
Murphy was glad that he had loaded his backpack. He removed a hatchet and chopped away at the wood around the latch and lock. It took him about ten minutes before he could loosen the latch enough to pry it off the wood. He pulled up the door, revealing a set of stairs about ten feet wide, disappearing down into the earth.
East and Kalance must have been very close to finishing their fun house. You sure you really want to go down there?
Murphy put away his hatchet and took out a large flashlight. He started down the winding stairs into the darkness. Alongside the stairs was a cast-iron hand railing. The wood on top of the railing was weathered and covered with a growth of moss. Running the flashlight beam along the railing, Murphy could see a number of places where the moss had recently been knocked away. It was as if someone had grabbed on to the railing to steady himself. He shined the light on the stairs, revealing innumerable footprints in the dirt and dust. Murphy guessed he was about two stories underground.
Methuselah, he thought, what are you up to now? He squinted in the darkness. I’ll bet there’s more than one entrance to this place.
At the bottom he shined his light around. He could see a large archway about fifteen feet wide. Above the arch was an old signboard with faded colored paint. It read:
Welcome to the Lakeside Fun House
Come in for the time of your life
As Murphy stepped under the arch, dim lights came on. He shined his flashlight back toward the arch and located a pair of sensors. He could see that he had broken a beam of light that must have activated the power for the fun house. He then heard the whir of some kind of machinery going on.
That old man must have money to spare to fix up an old fun house buried underground.
As he pressed on, there was a startling sound. Shining his light upward, he saw a large mechanical clown with its head rocking back and forth in laughter.
It’s not funny yet, Methuselah.
He moved through a doorway under a sign that read:
Have a barrel of laughs
The only way forward was through a series of three large barrels that were lined up on their sides in a single row, like a tunnel. Each barrel was about eight feet in diameter and about fifteen feet long. The first barrel was rolling to the left, the second barrel to the right, and the third barrel to the left. Grinding motors and chain drives made the barrels roll over and over.
Murphy remembered another fun house he had gone through when he was about ten years old. It was in Denver, Colorado, and also had rolling barrels. His father had shown him that the only way through was to walk in the opposite direction from the roll of the barrel, like being on a giant treadmill. Otherwise, you would end up rolling around the inside of the barrel.
The dim light illuminated the inside of the fun house, so Murphy put his flashlight away in the backpack. He held the pack in his left hand to balance the impact-resistant case that contained Laser in his right. Murphy took a deep breath and entered the first barrel, walking in the opposite direction of the roll.
As Murphy reached the center barrel, an Asian figure in a black ninja outfit entered the third barrel. He resembled a young Bruce Lee and moved toward Murphy with the agility of a cat. He did not look too friendly.
Okay, here’s where it gets interesting, Murphy thought.
A quick glance behind Murphy revealed another Asian, dressed in a dark brown outfit. He had entered the first barrel after Murphy and was quickly gaming ground.
Oh, great! Double the fun. That’s all I need.
Murphy also glimpsed a shadowy form lurking at the entrance to the first barrel. Could it be …? A moment later, the familiar cackling laugh of Methuselah confirmed his suspicions.
“This will be fun to watch, Murphy!”
Murphy was not going to allow Methuselah to distract him. The two Asians looked like professionals. Fast, confident, deadly. And out to do him some serious harm.
The man from behind was almost upon him. Divide and conquer, thought Murphy. He turned and ran in the same direction that the barrel was rolling, rising quickly up the side. As Murphy felt himself starting to lose the battle against gravity, he shoved backward as hard as he could. All of Murphy’s one hundred and ninety-five pounds dropped down on the man in brown and drove his head hard into the thick wood.
One down, thought Murphy. The fall knocked his backpack and impact case out of his hands, and they began to tumble on the floor with the unconscious Asian. Murphy had just regained his shaky footing when the impact case ricocheted into his midsection, knocking the wind out of him. He fell again, gasping for breath and struggling unsuccessfully to get to his feet.
The assassin in black leaped over his unconscious partner and landed a kick on Murphy’s shoulder. Murphy rolled with the blow, still trying to catch his breath. He scrambled to his feet just as the assassin sprang through the air, kicking Murphy in the chest, and again knocking him to the floor.
“Bravo! Bravo!” shouted Methuselah with a laugh.
Murphy knew that he could hold his own if he could ever catch his breath and get his feet under him. His aptly named impact case kept rolling against his body, making it difficult to get up.
The man in black came in for a third attack, aimed at Murphy’s head. Instinctively Murphy grabbed the impact case and swung it in front of him, knocking the assassin off balance. He went down on his back next to Murphy. Murphy brought his elbow down as hard as he could on the side of the Asian’s head. Murphy finally rose to his feet. It was all over except for the tumbling of two bodies, one backpack, and an impact case.
He gathered up the backpack and Laser, and stumbled out of the last barrel. He looked back at the two bodies tumbling over and over like rag dolls i
n a washing machine. Methuselah had disappeared.
THREE
“I THINK WE NEED to make a toast to Mr. Bartholomew. He has selected another wonderful location for our meeting place. Cape Town is always beautiful this time of year.”
“Hear, hear!” said Sir William Merton, the oldest member of the Seven. “I couldn’t agree with you more, General Li. It’s much warmer than China this time of year, wouldn’t you say?”
The portly English cleric lifted his wineglass high as he slouched on a lawn chair like a white-collared sea lion. He was physically repulsive but quite brilliant.
Everyone lifted their glasses. General Li gave a slight bow, his powerful frame hidden by his finely tailored suit. His manner was unfailingly gracious and polite, but there was something cruel and relentless in his eyes.
Ganesh Shesha cleared his throat. The bright sun had turned his usual cold stare into a squint. His gray hair was deeply contrasted by his dark skin and hatchet nose. Massive corruption and shrewd manipulation had enabled his rise to prominence in India’s Parliament.
“Most beautiful. Although India is not very far away, this is my first visit to South Africa.” Shesha looked out across the harbor and pointed. “That island in the distance. Do people live there?”
Jakoba Werner smiled. Her blond hair was tied back in a bun. In fact, no one in attendance could ever remember seeing her with her hair down. She was half laughing as she responded, her curt tone and German accent punctuating each word. “That is Robben Island, the home of a maximum security prison. It is no longer in use and has now become a tourist attraction. It is similar to Alcatraz Island in the San Francisco Harbor, only Robben Island is much larger. Nelson Mandela spent a number of years incarcerated there.”
“It’s too bad they let him out of prison,” stated Bartholomew. “I’ve grown weary of his rhetoric about apartheid and his suffering through racial segregation. For the life of me, I can’t imagine why they awarded him the Nobel Peace Prize.”
Viorica Enesco nodded in agreement, brushing her red hair out of her eyes. “Enough about that.” Her Romanian accent was strong. “I have no desire to visit the prison on Robben Island or anywhere else. I’ve personally seen enough prisons.”
“How about a ride up toward Table Mountain, behind our estate?” asked Señor Mendez. “I hear there’s quite a view of the Cape from up there. And then perhaps we could drive over to Lion’s Head. It is quite famous.”
“This is not a vacation,” said Bartholomew. His British accent had a chilling tone to it. He was tired of all this useless banter and anxious to start the meeting. “We are here to discuss business. Our attempt to blow up the George Washington Bridge did not succeed quite as we had hoped. It did, however, fulfill our plan to drive the leaders of the United Nations out of America. They have started their relocation plans to Babylon. The European Union is functioning well, Europa is rising, and we are still on course.”
“Well, I must add that the George Washington Bridge plan did put quite a scare in the Americans. That was a great bonus for us.”
“True, Jakoba. That, along with Talon eliminating Stephanie Kovacs. That reporter was getting too inquisitive for her own good. She was on the verge of finding out about our payments to the U.N. leaders. Besides, she was giving too much information to Murphy.”
Sir William Merton quickly sat forward. His face began to change and his eyes flashed with hatred. “We have two loose cannons to be concerned about. The first is Dr. Michael Murphy. He knows too much about the Bible and has discovered too many ancient artifacts that can help to prove the Bible to be true. But what worries me the most is his talking with Dr. Harley B. Anderson. There’s no telling what information he acquired from him before Talon killed him. We don’t know what he learned about the birth of the Boy from reading Anderson’s notes.”
“The Boy!” said Viorica. “You know he’s not a boy anymore! He’s a man, and it’s almost time for the Friends of the New World Order to expose him and unite the people of the earth under his leadership!”
“And the second loose cannon?”
“Yes, Ganesh, that is our old enemy Methuselah. His hatred for the Seven is matched only by his great wealth. We have been unable to get close to him. He has too many bodyguards. Yet he keeps getting information about us somehow.” He studied the faces of his six compatriots for several moments before continuing. “There has been a breach of security in our organization. You will recall that we had Talon steal the tail of the Bronze Serpent from the Parchments of Freedom Foundation and bring it to our office in France. We were going to then transport it to the castle. However, someone stole it from the safe in the office and sent the tail back to the Parchments of Freedom Foundation. I’ve instructed Talon to get it back. Whoever did this is through. Once we discover who it is … he’s a dead man.
“Or woman! Who do you think that might be?”
“I don’t know, Señor Mendez. But you can be sure that we will find him or her. It’s just a matter of time. We’ll all have to be on the alert for anything suspicious. Meanwhile, we need to focus on the future. It would be good to eliminate Dr. Murphy, but for now, we must concentrate on empowering De La Rosa.”
“What do you suggest?” asked Mendez.
“We shall invite Shane Barrington for a visit. We will get him to promote De La Rosa through the vast Barrington News Network. Between his television stations, his newspapers, and his magazines, we will get excellent coverage.”
“Will he cooperate? After all, we did have Talon kill his live-m lover … Stephanie Kovacs!”
“That is true, Señor Mendez. But remember, we also killed his son. He betrayed his own blood relation to obtain enough money to keep the Barrington News Network from going bankrupt. He is not a man of morals. He is as greedy as Midas. He wants everything he touches to turn to gold. And if it does not turn to gold, at least he wants power and control over it. His own pride and arrogance and lust for money will keep him under our control.”
“I hope so,” said Merton. “If he turned on us, he would be a powerful enemy.”
“He wouldn’t dare. He has too much to lose.” Bartholomew took a long sip from his wineglass. “And speaking of losing, Talon has lost some articles from Noah’s Ark. We need to send him to see if he can retrieve them from the Black Sea. They may contain the secrets of the Philosopher’s Stone, and we need to know more about Potassium 40. I don’t know about all of you, but I find the possibility of extending life very intriguing.”
Sir William Merton’s eyes seemed to glow again. “Yes, we all want to live to see De La Rosa and our Master come to power.”
FOUR
MURPHY SHRUGGED OFF the pain in his gut and looked around. The faint illumination revealed a sign pointing to a doorway. The sign read:
Having fun yet?
How about a game of roulette?
The next room contained a large spinning wheel like a merry-go-round without any animals or poles. The wheel was low to the ground and covered with polished wood. He had a vague recollection from childhood that people would sit on the wheel and it would turn faster and faster until the centrifugal force threw the riders off the wheel and into a low, curved wall. The only way anyone could remain on the wheel was to be in the exact middle. Murphy could see that something was in the center of the spinning wheel. It looked like another one of Methuselah’s three-by-five cards.
The next clue.
As Murphy started forward, he heard a grunt. An enormous man in crimson emerged from the darkness. At least, Murphy thought it was one man. He was dressed in red wrestling tights and must have weighed in excess of three hundred pounds. He was at least six and a half feet tall and looked like he had been lifting weights since the age of five.
Murphy took a few cautious steps backwards. He had been trained in boxing and the martial arts, but had never faced an opponent of this size. He had to stay out of the giant’s long reach.
Murphy hurled the impact case at the wrestler, and he
batted it away without flinching. But it bought Murphy a few precious moments to open his backpack. Water, compass, first-aid kit…
As he fished inside for a weapon, the man charged. Murphy’s fingers brushed against the handle of the knife just as the wrestler barreled into him like a Mack truck, sending him to the ground and his backpack flying onto the roulette wheel.
A pair of huge hands grabbed for Murphy. He rolled and kicked at the man’s muscular legs. It was like connecting with two tree trunks, but he somehow managed to sweep the wrestler’s legs out from under him. He went down hard.
The bigger they are, thought Murphy. He leaped onto the man’s back and held his face against the spinning wheel. The enraged giant roared and swung, and suddenly Murphy found himself airborne.
He landed a few feet away. Before he could recover, the giant seized Murphy, lifted him over his head, and slammed him against the wall. Through a dull haze of pain, Murphy saw the wrestler moving forward and reaching for him on the floor. He scooted between his thick legs and rose to his feet. He looked for his backpack, and finally spied it in the center of the roulette wheel. The one place where it won’t spin off. Just great. He had to get to his weapons or he was done for.
Murphy ran over and hopped onto the wheel, staggering forward in a low crouch. He reached for the backpack, just nicking it, but could not maintain his balance. He flew off and spun into the curved wall.
The wrestler charged, and Murphy was in no position to defend himself. He waited for the crushing blow, but instead something crashed into the wall nearby and burst, spraying them both with liquid. The wrestler looked behind him, and the squashed water bottle landed at Murphy’s feet. Then his first-aid kit skidded across the floor. The open backpack had fallen on its side and its contents were flying out at great velocity. The wrestler turned back to Murphy and moved in for the kill.
