The End

by Dave Lacey

  “The British government have known about it for almost fifty years, ever since the Americans uncovered it in the sixties, and each successive prime minister has been informed of it when they have taken office. Around the world, efforts have been made to prepare for it, and there have always been people who have taken it upon themselves to talk. It is human nature to want to tell people things. Knowledge is power, you know, and so people have talked. So, in addition to those people, there has always been a me.” He gave a humourless laugh at this. “There have always been the people that move in the shadows, cleaning things up, closing off unwanted chains of evidence.

  “It just so happens that on this occasion it is I who has been called in to help out, by your government, by your Home Secretary. My methods are my own, and I have complete autonomy in my decisions. Regardless of what you think, my role is a necessary evil in the secret that hangs over us all. So, in answer, I do not have a hold over him, and it really is Richard Thomas’s fault that his brother is dead, as well as those other poor bastards whose deaths you have been so diligently investigating for the past few weeks. The Home Secretary knew something he told his brother. Who told his closest lieutenant, who told his lover, who told her son, who told his lover. They all died because they knew something that they really shouldn’t have. It is not as if we did it whimsically.”

  “It sounds like you’re trying to justify murdering six people to me, and not very well,” Jack said quietly.

  “Detective, I do not have to justify anything to you. But I will continue. As to why I killed Alphonse? Well, I had intended to be at all of the murders initially. I wanted to question them all, in case they had told others. When you and your partner almost found us, I decided it was too dangerous and brought in help. You know, I didn’t know you were following him that night. I thought we had time with him on the canal, and my plan was to question him further. I had placed two men near the scene to make sure we were not disturbed, unlikely as that was, and they were getting into position when you turned up.”

  “The two drunks fighting?” Jack suddenly remembered.

  “Yes indeed. They had doused themselves with alcohol so as not to stand out too much, and then you came along. They alerted me and my associate, as we stood at the canal side with Alphonse. Obviously this was a surprise to me, so our interaction was speeded up greatly.”

  “How did you get him over the canal wall to where you wanted him?”

  “Ah yes. I called him from a payphone not far from there and told him two men, the men you came upon, where following him, intent on doing him harm. It is very ironic isn’t it, that he actually was being followed, by you? I told him to go over the wall to lose them. He was very suspicious, which I think is entirely understandable, so I used the information he possessed and told him that I knew also and that it was for his own safety. I told him that was why the men were after him. I think you must agree, in a short space of time, I did very well, no? Ah, maybe not. As my associate did what was required, I waited a little distance away for him to finish up.”

  “But I could’ve gone over the wall at any point. I could’ve dropped onto you from the top of the wall.” Jack had calmed down, and was curious as to how it had all panned out.

  “True, but in all honesty I never even expected you to come over the wall. I assumed you would give up and track back to his apartment. I underestimated you then. It was pure luck that you climbed the wall without landing on, or even seeing, me. Then for a few minutes I watched you walk back and forth until your partner arrived. It was stupid of me to smoke whilst there, but it is my only vice, and I could not help myself.”

  “It's not your only vice is it?” Jack said, his nostrils flaring.

  “Maybe not. Anyway, when your partner spotted me, my associate was already on the other side and had called for our car. I quickly dropped over the other side. We were very lucky, Detective, very lucky. I decided in the car that very night to bring in our mutual friend Clarence, because I realised that it would be unwise for me to get caught. It would have become ugly very quickly for your government if my identity was uncovered. Not knowing at the time of course that the both of you would gradually uncover things for yourselves anyway.” Lemac stopped talking and lit yet another cigarette.

  “Why kill them all? Why not just convince them to stay quiet?” Jack asked.

  “Because, Detective Sumner, as I told you earlier, human nature dictates that people cannot keep secrets. Those at the very top, in government, who are aware of everything, are still unable to keep the secret. So what chance do those who are not in possession of all the facts have? No, once this sort of thing starts, it gathers momentum until it becomes unstoppable. Then it is too late, much too late. No, I'm afraid this was the only way .” Jack looked at him darkly, judging him and trying to seek out any hint of compassion or flicker of goodness. He knew his position was precarious, and he knew he was relying on Lemac’s humanitarianism above all else, for his and Smithy’s survival.

  “You’re going to kill us aren’t you?” Jack asked.

  Lemac chuckled again. “Oddly enough, Jack, no, I am not going to kill you. You see that is part of the problem we all face, and the problem I have in keeping this little project of ours quiet. You are not to be touched. Even if I wanted to, I could not kill you.

  Chapter 51

  “Why?” Jack asked Lemac.

  “That is the question. And to answer it, I must go back to the beginning of the story. It is quite a story, and part of it you will already be familiar with.” Lemac paused to rub his hands together and blow into them. “Are you comfortable? Can I get you anything before I begin?” Lemac seemed genuine enough. Jack was puzzled; by this point, he had fully expected to be either tortured or dead. Now his captor was asking him if he needed refreshment?

  “I would like to see my friend. I’d like to see Smithy and know that he’s alive.”

  “Hmm, not for now. I assure you that he is still very much alive. I have not yet decided his outcome. I will tell you what I have to tell you, then I will make my decision.”

  “No, that’s not good enough!” Jack demanded.

  “Detective, do not misunderstand me. I cannot kill you, but there is nothing to stop me from killing every single person you know. Your lovely, if estranged, wife, your son, your mother and father...need I go on?” Jack struggled furiously against his psychological bonds. This was torture in itself, but he knew he had to get a grip on things if he and Smithy were to survive, not to mention his family. Though he fought internally, he gave no outward sign of conflict.

  “Okay, you win, I’ll listen to what you have to say.” He spoke through gritted teeth.

  “C’est bon. I will start at the beginning. We begin in Mexico in the year nineteen sixty-five. It was May, and a man called Carlos made a discovery that would alter the course of humankind irrevocably. Are you aware of the Mayan codices, Detective?”

  “I’ve heard of the Mayan calendar,” Jack offered.

  “Well, the codices are the origin of the Mayan calendar. Carlos was looking for the fourth codex. It was referenced in all of the other three codices that had been discovered before. In all of them, they talked of a prophecy, a prediction. But they never gave any detail as to what that prediction was–”

  Jack interrupted. “Oh, please, are you going to sit there and tell me that the world actually is going to come to an end, as predicted in the Mayan calendar? Are we talking the movie 2012? A biblical event so catastrophic that it’ll destroy the earth as we know it?” Jack said, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

  “Detective, I want you to forget what you have read or seen regarding the calendar and its predictions. Most of it is rubbish, pure conjecture, and in some cases works of fiction. No, my story concerns the actualities of the Mayan codices. I assure you, it is quite true, and by the time we are finished, you will understand a little more of our predicament.” Lemac lit another cigarette and picked up where he had left off. “So, a Mayan expe
rt Doctor Jose Saenz and his friend and colleague, Carlos Munoz, had been involved in the search for the fourth codex for around ten years.

  “The Doctor was a renowned expert and scholar, whilst Carlos managed the workmen used on the numerous digs they carried out at various sites around the known Mayan habitations. As in many archaeological digs where the exact location of an item is unknown, the search became a quest. The Doctor became a little obsessed, and, by association, so did his friend. As time wore on, the chances of making the discovery diminished.

  “As you will know, Mexico is a big place, and they did not even know whether the codex had survived the passage of time. Anyway, they reached the conclusion that it had been lost to the world, partly because their search to that point had been fruitless, but partly because they also had run out of funds. Until a year before, the Mexican government had funded the enterprise, but, due to poor results and financial cutbacks, this was pulled. Doctor Saenz and Carlos were considering calling an end to proceedings when a rich American contacted the Doctor and offered to fund his project for the next five years. He also had information that narrowed down the search to a particular area of Mexico, Nuevo Tortuguero. After consideration, Doctor Saenz accepted the offer. The Doctor never told Carlos where the money had come from.” Lemac paused, inhaling deeply on his cigarette and waving his hand airily.

  “After a further two years, while the Doctor was on a brief vacation, Carlos found the codex. The Doctor kept a few things from Carlos, in addition to the origin of the funding, but there was one detail that stood out. Carlos could not speak English, nor read it, so the Doctor felt no reason to tell him that the codex might contain pages written in that language.” Jack looked puzzled at this statement and was about to ask a question, when Lemac held up a hand. “Please, I know you will have questions, but I would like to carry on. The codices that had been found before, those that were the basis for the calendar, also spoke of a further codex. One that did not contain calendar information, but that contained a prediction.

  “It spoke of the codex in grave tones, and described a language that the Mayan race was not familiar with, a language used by the gods that had visited them. Carlos contacted the Doctor, and the Doctor in turn contacted the rich American, who arranged to collect him and accompany him to a disused airstrip east of Nuevo Tortuguero. Carlos met them there with the codex, but it became apparent to the Doctor during their flight that something was amiss. The American had brought a ‘bodyguard’ with him, which, along with the changed demeanour of his benefactor, made Saenz nervous.

  “So, they arrived at the airstrip and, sure enough, it was there, the fourth codex. Doctor Saenz examined it briefly. The codex consisted of forty-six pages, eleven pages of drawings and a further thirty-five pages of text. English text. From that point, things changed for the worst, I'm afraid. Carlos was killed. He could not be allowed to live after having found the codex...” Another deep inhalation from Lemac brought a natural pause in the story.

  “But he didn’t know what was in it!” Jack shouted. “You people make me sick. He couldn’t read it!” Jack was outraged; he knew it was ridiculous, the murder had taken place forty-six years ago. He fought at his bonds, straining to free his arms.

  “Jack, maybe one day you will understand, but for now just know that the man in charge of the project, the man who funded their dig, is a ruthless individual who takes his role very seriously. So, Carlos was killed and the Doctor was given a choice: stay and die, or go with them and work on the find. It was no choice, I am sure you agree. The man needed the Doctor – there was still translation to be done on the other codices, and they needed to have exact dates in order for the prediction to be of any use. There is little point in knowing something is going to happen if you don’t know when. So he was absorbed into the project.” Lemac paused for a moment, stubbing out his cigarette. He blew out the last of the smoke and crossed his legs.

  “In nineteen seventy-one the Grolier codex was announced to the world and put on display at the Grolier Club in New York City, and was later donated to the Mexican government. Eleven pages were displayed, showing drawings of various figures in outlandish headdresses. The other thirty-five pages were never disclosed, and remain the property of the project. The information contained within their pages was never revealed to anybody outside the project. Except for you, today.” Lemac looked at him hard.

  “And the people you killed?” Jack asked.

  Lemac smiled. “Well, they knew some of it, Jack, but not all. It was a prediction, of an event.” He shrugged.

  “Of what?” Jack asked, frowning.

  “I will come to that.” Lemac nodded and closed his eyes.

  “Okay, but how do you know that the ‘event’ will even take place? What proof do you have? There’ve been predictions in the past, Nostradamus springs to mind, and it’s all bollocks. Why have you all bought into this one? And you clearly have bought into it, because you’ve been fucking killing people to cover it up. And by the sounds of it, you and your kind have been killing people for nearly fifty years.” This was all starting to sound ever so slightly scary to Jack, like another cult. These things didn’t happen; this wasn’t a Jerry Bruckheimer film.

  Lemac frowned this time. “Do you think we are stupid? Do you think we are just... cattle? That we would just blindly believe what was written on a two thousand year old piece of paper? Do you have any idea how stupefying it must have been to have found a two thousand year old document with modern English text in it? With modern language and items in it? That in itself commands our attention, Jack, that single accomplishment should tell us all we need to know. But it contained other predictions, which were accurate beyond doubt. It predicted the fall of communism and when it would happen. And it predicted nine-eleven–”

  “Then why didn’t you stop it?” Jack interrupted.

  Lemac pursed his lips before continuing. “It did not give us the precise dates or locations. But there was enough to get our attention. That was only a latter prediction. There were many other, smaller ones that proved to us that the document contained too much for it to be dismissed. Do not worry, most of the predictions were events that caused no harm to people, they did not make predictions where we would either want or need to intervene. But as I have said, it reached the point where the evidence became incontrovertible, the prediction impossible to ignore. Imagine for a moment that we had ignored it, and it came to be, that we could have done something, but didn’t.

  If it turns out that we were wrong and nothing happens, I would be the first hold up my hand and say ‘Yes, we were right to kill all those people. I am sorry, but we were right.’ Despite what you think of me, I believe we have done the right thing in all this. My belief is that we will be proved right, and that the precautions we have taken over the past fifty years will prepare us for what is coming. Without it, there would have been no hope.” Lemac finished, his face unreadable.

  “Good, I'm glad for you. And I imagine you sleep well at night knowing that you think you’ve done the right thing. But let me ask you this, what could be so bad that the governments of the world would unite in the biggest cover up in human history? And, if it is so bad, what could you and your friends have done to prepare for it? Cheyenne Mountain?” Cheyenne Mountain, Jack knew, was the giant complex of tunnels and caverns carved out of the mountain itself, which has housed numerous departments of the US Military since the late fifties.

  “Very good, Jack, very good. But no, it is not Cheyenne Mountain, though that will be used in part. No, I'm afraid it is much worse than a meteor or solar flares. The prediction told us that it would happen in the year 2012 in the month of December.”

  “What would happen?”

  “Ah, that is the question, no? First, you must know that once I tell you this, there is no turning back. You will instantly become a threat to the project, and therefore, by default, so will your friends and family.”

  “You brought me here to tell me, now tell me!”
<
br />   “Very well, I will continue.”

  Chapter 52

  “The text, recorded over a thousand years ago, Jack, advised us that in December 2012 the earth would suffer a cataclysmic invasion. It advised that a new race would descend from the skies and destroy mankind. It likened it to a swarm of locusts that would devour all before it, raze entire cities, and turn back the clock on man’s evolution.” Silence had enveloped the room entirely, save for a drip somewhere in the darkest recesses. He couldn’t see it, but Jack knew his own expression was caught somewhere between shock, disbelief and doubt. Even Clarence had stopped pacing the far wall of the room. Clearly he had never heard this story before either.

  “Bollocks.” He finally summoned the word that best fit his mood.

  Lemac laughed again. “That is a much more common reaction than you could imagine, Detective. In fact, I would say that, given some latitude on the precise word, it is the usual response. However, I'm afraid it is true.”

  “You can let me go now. Because I can tell you there’s absolutely no fucking chance I’ll be telling anybody else about the massive pile of shit you’ve just dumped on me. Alien invasion? I take it you do mean an alien invasion by the way? This isn’t Hollywood, Lemac. I don’t know who’s been filling your head full of this bullshit, but I’m more than happy to recommend a counsellor.” Jack struggled once more to break free, wriggling in the small amount of room provided by his bonds.

  “Detective, I can assure you this is very real, as real as it gets. They are coming and there is nothing we can do to stop them.”

  “Well what’s your great plan then? What have you muppets been doing for the last fifty years that’s required a cover up?”