“How are we going to do that? I’m not a special agent or a cop or anything like that.”
“I know. And the people we’re dealing with—” Sean paused and considered whether he should tell Kevin everything. He decided the archaeologist deserved to know. His friends and coworkers had been murdered by a ruthless organization, and would have killed him the previous night had Sean not stepped in. “They are not easily dispatched.”
Kevin waited with his head cocked to the side like a dog awaiting a treat. “What are you talking about?”
“When I worked for the government, I heard rumors. Once or twice when I was on a mission, I overheard my targets talking about them. I’ve heard stories in Washington, too. I thought it was too big, that the scope of something like that wasn’t possible.”
“Scope of something like what?”
Sean’s voice disconnected from his body, sounding distant as he spoke. “For several years, Tommy and I have discussed the possibility of an overarching elite class, a group that all other secret societies bow to. This ruling class determines the fate of nations; they can manipulate economies, health care systems, the stock market, pretty much everything and everyone. No one knows them by name, but you can see their influence everywhere.”
“Secret societies,” Kevin echoed.
“Yes, but they all serve a master. Many conspiracy groups call this master a deep state. But it’s more than that, and far more sinister. In the darkest circles, they are known only as the shadow caste.”
“Shadow caste?” Kevin asked. Confusion seeped out of his narrowed eyes. “What do you mean?”
“The shadow caste,” Sean explained, “is much more than a deep state that rigs elections or, as many have suggested, tips the balance of certain economic factors. They control everything and everyone, pulling the strings of the entire planet. Wars have been waged at their bidding, the winners and losers predetermined by them as if it were all some grand experiment or game in a lab. Tommy is in Sweden right now, speaking on the subject at a symposium.”
Kevin huffed derisively and took another gulp of water from his bottle. “Yeah, that does sound a little crazy. One group controlling everything that has ever happened? Seems like a big job. Too big.”
“You’re right,” Sean said, still sounding like he was in a faraway place. “It does sound too big, which is precisely why no one ever considers it to be a legitimate hypothesis. I haven’t even really given it much credibility. It’s relegated to conspiracy-theory forums or discussed by drunk friends around a campfire. I’ve never believed it was true; one entity controlling all others. I blew it off as much as anyone else. Until last night.”
Kevin almost looked sorry for Sean, like someone visiting a loved one at a mental institution. “You okay, man? Need me to get you something?”
“You don’t understand, Kevin. The inscription on that tablet reveals the truth about this elite ruling class. Whenever I heard the rumors about them, certain words were always used to describe their actions—measure, watch, calculate, weighing the sins of man. That last one is eerily exact. We found a scroll that mentioned those words about three years ago in an abandoned monastery in France. Then I saw them again in a diary from the mid-nineteenth century. All of this points to a singular truth, one that I hoped wasn’t plausible.”
Sean paused for effect, though it was probably more from the heavy reality of the situation than for dramatic buildup. “The shadow caste is real, and the fact that they have stepped out into the light to attack your dig site, and gone to the trouble of tracking you to Bulgaria, tells me they are about to make a big move.” He kept the text from the president to himself, thinking discretion the better path.
“You’re making some pretty big leaps there, Sean,” Kevin said. He stared blankly in disbelief, locking eyes with Sean’s concerned gaze.
Sean acknowledged the comment with a nod. “I know. And I’m also aware of how insane it sounds. Just like it sounds insane that modern humans may have been here for hundreds of thousands of years when historians tell us it was less than fifty. We have discovered evidence of civilization at Göbekli Tepe that goes back nearly thirteen thousand years. We know that people existed in Australasia and South America over forty thousand years ago. Assumptions that have been handed down for generations are being dashed on the rocks of new discoveries almost every day now.”
Kevin arched his right eyebrow. “There are those in my circles who would dispute those ideas. And I thought you were Christian. How does that jibe with the Bible stuff?”
“It’s the timeline I question, not the message. The first humans may have lived a hundred thousand years before being kicked out of the Garden of Eden. We’d have no way of knowing it. The antediluvian world could have been extremely old. My point is,” he said, getting back on track, “the things we believed impossible yesterday are being proved today. Many would say that this ruling-class theory is impossible. Yet we see it playing out all the time. Some people who can barely string together a coherent sentence are nominated for the highest office in the land. One must wonder why, and who is pushing this stuff?”
“So, you think that this…shadow caste affects free elections, the voting process of free Americans?”
“Not just Americans, Kevin. All elections. Maybe they don’t dabble with the votes themselves. Then again, they don’t need to. Think about it. Why are there only two choices in the United States? Those two options have been preselected for us. We get virtually no say in the matter. Even when a candidate is winning on their side of the aisle, that doesn’t mean they will get the nomination. We’ve seen people with big leads abruptly drop out and offer their support for someone that, just a week ago, they loathed. And if you tell people you’re voting for a third party, you’re mocked and told that you are merely throwing your vote away.”
Kevin’s head bobbed absently. “I see your point, but what does any of that have to do with me or my team, or that tablet over there?”
“Maybe nothing,” Sean admitted. “Maybe I’m wrong. I honestly hope I am. But when you said those words from the inscription, it set off a light bulb.”
“What if it’s talking about Nephilim or some other kind of supernatural group? Perhaps the Anunnaki. It could be an ancient myth. Nothing more. In fact, I would hedge my bets that’s all it is.”
“Could be.” Sean took a sip of his coffee.
The two fell silent and were consumed by their thoughts as they drank. Sean could tell Kevin was trying to wrap his mind around all of it.
“You said they’re about to make a move or something. What did you mean by that?”
“They’ve already made it,” Sean said, indicating the tablet with a slow nod. “Like I said, when they attacked your dig site and then came after you. They followed you here, didn’t they?”
Kevin blinked, and his silence signaled he understood.
“Look.” Sean leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “Maybe I’m wrong about the shadow caste being involved here, but the bottom line is that someone wants you dead, and wants that tablet. Perhaps it’s a secret society. Or it could just be some Russian goons trying to take an artifact they believe they can sell on the black market.”
“Possibly.”
“Yeah. Except that Russian guys probably wouldn’t have known what you found. You said you didn’t tell anyone except your contacts at the university. Right?”
“Yes.”
Sean pulled out his smartphone and flipped it around so Kevin could see it. He’d kept the screen on an article from Volgograd.
Kevin’s mouth dropped open and fear shot through his eyes. Disbelief trailed the initial emotion, and he began shaking his head at what he saw.
“All of your contacts at the university are dead, Dr. Clark. This is not the work of the Russian mob. It’s something far more sinister. And I need to find out what they want with that tablet. My initial guess is they’re after the weapon it mentioned.”
A horn honked from
the street below, and then an engine whined as the car drove away.
“What kind of weapon is it talking about?” Kevin asked. “I mean, I realize you don’t have much to go on.”
“I’m not sure, but from the sound of that text, I would venture it’s some kind of doomsday weapon. And it sounds like this rose stone is the key to unlocking its power.”
“Doomsday weapon? Like a bomb?”
Sean leaned back and drank the last gulp of coffee. “Unlikely. It’s more probable that we’re talking about some kind of bioweapon. The few people who believe in the shadow caste think that they not only manipulate politics and finances but have also used diseases, pandemics down through the ages. And as I said before, wars, too.”
“Sounds like an awful lot of work,” Kevin admitted. “And for what?”
Sean blinked as he stared out the window at the city rolling through the hills. Hundreds of thousands of people went about their day without a care in the world, or without concern that they were in any danger.
“Population control,” Sean managed.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You know what it means. We do it all the time with deer and other wildlife, thinking that we humans know what’s best for the planet. We intervene and cut down the population to protect farms and other wildlife. Is it so outrageous that there is a group out there that does the same to people?”
Kevin scoffed at the notion. “So, you’re saying this ‘shadow caste,’” he used air quotes, “is doing the same thing with us as we do with deer and other wild game?”
“The earth can only hold so many people, Kevin. It has a finite number of resources. Those are facts. I don’t know who is a part of this group or the extent they reach into individual lives, but I know they are out there. I can feel it.”
“I’m sorry,” Kevin said and slapped his thigh. He stood up and walked over to the coffeepot. Once there, he picked up a fresh packet of coffee and placed the filter into the machine. After filling the reservoir with bottled water, he hit the button, and the pot gurgled to life. “That’s just crazy. I’ve heard some pretty wild conspiracy theories before, but that one is bigger than anything reasonably possible.”
Sean tilted his head to the side as if almost agreeing. “Perhaps. I’ve seen some pretty weird things since I started working for Tommy. I’ve seen a golden helmet in India that makes people kill each other. I’ve seen pyramids in places no one ever thought they could be. Prophets’ cloaks of power, priestly vestments that can predict the future, even an ancient Greek device that—at first glance—appears to only be a navigational tool and then turns out to be a window into things yet to come. I’ve come to appreciate that things we considered impossible are quite the contrary. But think about this. If the human population continues to grow unchecked, how are we going to feed everyone? Where will everyone live? How will we sustain this way of life we’ve established?”
Kevin assumed the question was rhetorical, so he didn’t respond.
“The answer is we can’t.”
“All of this from a passage on an ancient Mongolian tablet?”
Sean shrugged. “And the fact four guys tracked you from Russia to Bulgaria and tried to kill you. Then there’s the little problem of their tattoos.”
“The ankh?”
“Don’t think that I missed that symbol along the bottom edge of the tablet.”
Kevin blushed. “I was wondering if you saw that.”
“Of course I saw it. Hard to slip anything past me. Everything is in Classical Mongolian except that symbol.”
“So, you think that the men who tried to kill me are somehow connected to the Golden Horde?”
“I don’t know,” Sean confessed. “But I intend to find out.”
“And just how are you going to do that?”
Sean pointed at the tablet. “That message is a code, a clue for us to follow. The questions are, where does it lead, and do we want to go there?”
Kevin stared at him, a million thoughts running through his head. “You’re saying that we should try to figure out what this message means and find this saint or the rose stone? I have to be honest, Sean, I don’t really like the idea of putting myself back in harm’s way again. We were lucky to get away alive last night.”
“We weren’t lucky.”
“Fine. Whatever. I know that you and Tommy do things like this all the time. You see hidden messages and then hunt down some lost treasure.”
“Artifacts,” Sean corrected.
“Either way, I want no part of this. I just want to go home to my study, drink some scotch, and figure out what to do next.” His face paled as thoughts of his research team returned to his mind. “I have to honor the others somehow. I think bringing this tablet to a museum, putting it out there that we discovered it, would be the best way to remember them.”
“That would be a mistake,” Sean said. “You might as well fire a flare that explodes into seven different colors. They will find you, and they will kill you. Your best chance of survival is with me.”
Kevin pulled his head back, drawing his chin flush against his neck. “And what, your plan is to unravel some mystery left behind by Jani Beg Khan? It’s a wild goose chase, Sean. Not every symbol or message is a treasure map.”
“That’s true. But it seems to have worked out pretty well so far,” Sean’s Southern drawl came through along with a trademark wink.
Kevin stared blankly at Sean for three breaths. “Is this what Tommy deals with all the time?”
“Nope. It’s usually him doing the roping.”
Sean already knew he was hooked, but he decided to drop one more chunk of bait in the water. “Kevin, have you ever been on an adventure? I mean a real historical adventure where you’re afraid for your life and your survival depends on solving a bunch of ancient, sometimes nonsensical clues?”
“No.”
“Well, it’s terrifying.” Sean paused. Then his lips creased, and he laughed. “But when you find something that’s been hidden so long ago, something that a person from another time purposely hid, it’s an amazing feeling. And it puts us in touch with our past in a way we might have easily missed. Know what I’m saying?”
Kevin pressed his lips together. He reluctantly blew air out through his nostrils. “You’re saying we have an obligation to humanity to make sure every piece of history we can find should be brought to the public eye, so that we can learn more about who we are and where we came from.”
Sean’s eyes darted around the room. “You actually put that way better than I could. I was just trying to tell you it’s a rush.”
The ice melted from Kevin’s face, and he started to laugh. Sean laughed with him for twenty seconds.
When the laughter died, Kevin set his jaw. His eyes drifted to the window, and he looked out over the city as Sean had been doing. “So many people. You really believe something bad might be coming?”
“I hope not. But I think we are in a position to, at the very least, see what we can find out.”
Kevin hesitated, still gazing out over the city. When he spoke, it was full of reluctance. “Fine, Sean,” he surrendered. “Where do we start?”
Sean’s grin nearly touched the tips of his ears. “I thought you’d never ask.”
“So, where are we going?”
“First place we need to make a stop is to see an old friend. In Sweden.”
9
Stockholm
Tommy scanned through the latest news on his phone as he waited behind a light-blue curtain. The speaker was going through a series of announcements and updates to some of the policies that had recently been changed at the museum, most of which revolved around the safety of museum visitors.
The first article Tommy noted was one from Prague where a well-known billionaire had apparently been involved in a gruesome murder/suicide. Reports suggested that the man had gone to visit his mistress, and that there had been some kind of disagreement. It was unclear—from the report�
�as to whether the man committed the murder or the mistress, though investigators believed he had been the killer.
Tommy didn’t know the man, but he’d seen the name many times before in international news headlines. It was always strange to Tommy when people who seemed to have everything ended up doing something so extreme.
Here was a man who had built up a billion-dollar company. He could buy anything he’d ever wanted, go anywhere. Life’s menu was his for the ordering. And now he was dead.
Tommy ran his fingers through his thick brown hair and considered the issue while he waited to give his speech. He’d long believed that money couldn’t buy happiness, though it could certainly afford a person certain freedoms in life. Perhaps, in some cases, it was too much freedom.
What could have driven such a powerful person to commit murder and then take their own life? It was one of those questions that might not get an answer.
Tommy heard his friend’s name called and knew that his would soon follow.
“I present to you, the founder of the museum, a man who has done so much for the preservation of history in Europe, and indeed the world, my good friend and colleague Dr. Magnus Sorenson.”
The crowd erupted in applause, just as Tommy knew it would. His friend Magnus had been one of the leading voices in making certain that history was preserved and honored. While many philanthropists donated their time and money to protect historical monuments, ruins, tombs, buildings, and other important features, Magnus Sorenson worked to prevent the destruction of those things by employing teams all around the world to uncover the past before someone else did.
He’d spent hundreds of millions of dollars to buy property where important ancient sites may have existed, sometimes with no proof other than stories from ancient texts or from satellite imagery that suggested the possibility of something under the ground. Lidar technology had been around since the 1970s, but with time the technology vastly improved. Several ancient sites had been discovered with Lidar that may otherwise still be hidden.
The Milestone Protocol Page 9
