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The Milestone Protocol

Page 27

by Ernest Dempsey


  “Tattoo?” Dak asked abruptly. “It wouldn’t happen to be an ankh, would it?”

  June nodded.

  “Sounds to me like I’m the newest arrival to this party.” Dak panned the room to meet everyone’s gaze. “Would someone mind telling me what exactly is going on?”

  Emily looked at him with a commanding stare. “You might want to sit down for this,” she said.

  “I’m good. Not much I haven’t heard.”

  “Suit yourself.” Emily helped herself to a wooden chair from the dining table and sat down. She crossed one leg over her knee and leaned back as if about to tell a fireside ghost story.

  “John is abroad right now, doing some charity work, so he was light on the details, but I spoke to him earlier. He’d already gone to bed for the night. I fear now he won’t be able to go back to sleep.”

  John Dawkins was the former President of the United States, and since his last term in office he and Emily had been involved in a romantic relationship, though they kept most of the details of their personal lives out of the limelight—more for her protection than for his. As the director of one of the most covert, secretive agencies in the world, she tried not to put a target on her back.

  “He told me he’d heard of a group, the Fellowship of Thoth, that supposedly permeated everything in the world from wars to businesses and even to the rise and fall of nations.”

  “A deep state,” Carolyn realized.

  “Yes, the deepest. This shadow caste, as I’ve heard Sean refer to it, is easily dismissed by most. They call it a conspiracy theory or a harebrained notion from people who have too much free time and too little imagination. John couldn’t tell me much, and it sounds like he sincerely doesn’t know, but he said he always suspected that his election wasn’t won just by hard work, that it always felt like some other force was involved, swaying the minds of the people one way or the other.”

  “The Hermetic Cult of Thoth,” Tara blurted. “We’ve studied them, not in depth but enough to know they’ve been around a long time.”

  “Except I was under the impression they haven’t been doing anything for the last, oh I don’t know, few centuries?”

  “Sean believes that they operate under guises, that they use other names—secret societies—to conduct their business. He claimed that the Illuminati, the Bilderbergs, and even the Thule Society and the Ahnenerbe were all part of the same bloodline—from the Cult of Thoth.”

  “Ahnenerbe?” Tara asked, her voice suddenly distant.

  “That’s one he mentioned, yes.”

  Dak looked over at Tara and then at Alex.

  “We had a run-in with them down in South America,” Dak said. “As far as we can tell, anyway. They didn’t show us a membership card.”

  The last comment diffused a portion of the tension in the room.

  “He’s right, though,” Tara said. “We thought the Ahnenerbe were extinct or defunct. No one has heard anything about them since the war.”

  “Until we did,” Alex corrected.

  “They were after that new element, right?” Helen asked.

  “Quantium,” Tara answered. “Yes. And if I were a betting woman, I would wager that the two attempts to steal it from our lab was ordered by the Ahnenerbe…or rather, the Cult of Thoth.”

  No one said anything, and the only sound came from the fireplace with an occasional crackle or pop.

  “Do we know where Sean is right now?” Emily asked.

  “Last we heard, Moscow,” Alex said. “There’s no telling now, knowing him.”

  “True.”

  “And Tommy is with him?” June asked, evident concern for her husband muting her voice.

  “Last we heard.”

  June looked relieved at the answer, but only slightly.

  “Do we know what they’re up to?”

  Alex filled the group in on what they knew, which wasn’t much. He and Tara had been dealing with their own issues.

  Emily looked down at her watch. “It’s early morning hours over in Russia right now. I imagine they’re asleep. We’ll need to check in on them in the morning.”

  “I’ll take first watch,” Dak said, biting back the weariness that tugged on his eyelids.

  “I’ll join you,” Emily said. “Two pairs of eyes and ears are better than one. The rest of you get some sleep. If this cult was able to find you here, it’s a good bet they can find you again.”

  “I’m sorry,” Carolyn said, “but do any of you know what this has to do with my boy and his friends?”

  Tara fielded that one. “They sent Tommy a text message about an explosion at the cave they discovered. Best we can figure, someone tracked the message and flagged it. Then they sent a team to pick up the kids. Luckily, the children saw what they assumed were federal agents and got spooked. They ran away and called us.”

  “Smart and brave kids,” Alex added. “We called Corin and Diego’s parents earlier to let them know they were okay and safe, having a cabin sleepover. Naturally, they were concerned, but when Tara spoke with them they felt better.”

  The compliment regarding the kids sent a beam of pride through Carolyn’s face. There was also pain there, a struggle in her eyes that only a parent could feel knowing that their child was in danger.

  “Good idea,” Mack said.

  Carolyn took out her phone and stepped out of the room, walking into the hallway as she updated the other parents.

  “What’s the plan?” Daniel asked bluntly. “You guys are talking about staying up all night to keep watch in case these goons send reinforcements, but we can’t stay here forever.”

  Dak had the answer, or part of it. “You can use my cabin up in Tennessee, just past Chattanooga. It’s not much, but there’s enough room there for you, the kids, and Mack and Helen if they want.”

  “We’ll be fine here,” Mack insisted.

  “I’m sure you would be. This isn’t for your protection. It’s for theirs. They’ll need a couple of folks who are good with firearms, just in case.”

  Helen and Joe looked at each other and acknowledged the suggestion with a nod.

  “Okay,” Helen said. “We can do that. If you think that’s what’s best.”

  Mack considered saying something about them being safe there at his cabin, but the attack had already disproved that notion.

  “We’ll take good care of them,” Mack said.

  “What are you going to do?” Carolyn asked.

  Dak turned his gaze to June and Emily. “Well, I’m not sure what you two are up to later, but it might be a good idea if we locate Sean and Tommy. From the sound of it, they could use all the help they can get.”

  32

  Moscow

  The night before had been a restless one for Sean. While he was glad to share the bed with his wife again, the things she’d told him were deeply troubling. She had confirmed that his and Tommy’s theory about the Cult of Thoth was correct. Adriana had even been impressed that they’d figured it out in pretty close detail. She’d heard his ideas about a shadow caste before and had wondered herself about the plausibility, given that the scope of the entire world being played seemed impossibly big.

  He could see it didn’t make her feel better to confirm his fears, fears that had grown into a very real and present danger. On top of that, learning of Adriana’s family and the secret order they’d maintained over the centuries was both bewildering and, well, awesome in a weird way. Sean found himself a little jealous about his own origins as she relayed the tale of how a sect of Shinobi had trained her family down through the ages to be the warriors against the scourge of the Fellowship of Thoth.

  Everything made sense now, in Sean’s mind. That included some things he wished weren’t true. There was no fighting the truth at this point. Billions of lives were at stake, and this wasn’t something he could ignore and wait out on the sidelines. He and his wife made an unlikely couple in that two extreme scenarios had to play out before they would have had any chance to meet. But tho
se events had happened, and fate brought them together.

  When he’d mentioned that before finally falling into a shallow slumber, she explained to him the way her master had; that fate brings you decisions that lead you on the path of your destiny. You make the choices you make, and that directs your path until your last breath—the ultimate destiny for all.

  The biting cold slapped Sean and the others across the face the second they stepped out of the rental car. He’d been in a daze thinking about the conversation with his wife. It consumed him at the moment, and he knew he needed to stay alert.

  The group cinched their coats against the harsh breeze. Snow dust sprayed over them and cut against their exposed faces. Across the street, the golden domes of the Epiphany Cathedral of Yelokhovo gleamed in the bright morning sunlight.

  “That’s an interesting color choice,” Sean said, staring at the white and seafoam-green exterior of the church.

  “Definitely not a quiet look,” Tommy quipped. “And not as big as I would have imagined.”

  Behind them, another building was painted in similar colors. Several of the shops along the street featured ostentatious color schemes, tributes to the village’s past before the communist era swept away all vibrancy from the nation to replace it with bland, colorless, uniform architecture.

  After the Soviets took over, many of the churches were closed or even destroyed. The lucky few that survived were turned into museums or kept around merely for historical perspective. With Christianity and religion in general banned, it was a wonder places like this had survived at all.

  Construction on the Yelokhovo Cathedral was completed in 1731, and like most older buildings in the world, it had received several additions and renovations throughout the decades. The last major additions were done in the mid-nineteenth century, giving it the look it still displayed.

  “You think they’re open?” Tommy asked to no one in particular.

  “They are,” Adriana answered. “But we’re going to have to come back when things die down.”

  “Why is that?” Tabitha wondered, facing the other woman.

  “Because,” Adriana said, keeping her eyes on the building, “it’s easier to steal something when no one’s around.”

  “Steal?”

  Adriana turned to the MI6 agent and winked. “You don’t think they’re going to just let us borrow it, do you?”

  At a loss for words, Tabitha could only offer a confused and disapproving stare.

  “It’s for the greater good,” Sean added. “Or we could just let the Cult of Thoth have it and wipe out two-thirds of the planet’s population.”

  He pivoted on his heels and started up the sidewalk to the nearest intersection. Adriana and Tommy followed, leaving Tabitha behind for a second. She finally sighed and hurried to catch up to the others before the light changed.

  When given the signal, the four walked across the street and around to the entrance of the cathedral where several other visitors had gathered in a line to enter the building.

  Most of the people were locals, or at least Russian—based on their language. There were a few tourists sprinkled in from other parts of the world as well, and Sean hoped none of them were American—simply because he didn’t want to strike up a conversation with some talkative type.

  Sean wasn’t sure how other Americans knew he was one too, but it had happened more than once, and every time it was with someone who couldn’t figure out how to shut up.

  Fortunately, no one seemed to recognize his nationality, and as they entered the cathedral, he felt a trickle of relief.

  Once through the doors and into the building, the cold from outside melted away with the warmth the cathedral offered. The smell of incense washed over them, its tendrils pulling them forward like invisible fingers.

  A priest stood to the right, welcoming people and accepting donations in a gilded box. He nodded and bowed in thanks to visitors who dropped coins or bills into the slot. Straight ahead, another priest—this one dressed in flowing white and golden robes—welcomed everyone with smiles and nods. He held a higher office than the priest at the door, and Sean realized it was probably the bishop.

  As the group proceeded deeper into the confines of the cathedral, the other visitors splintered off into different areas.

  Tommy halted in the center of the room, overwhelmed by the assault on his senses.

  All around them, the curved archways, ceilings, walls, and columns were all gilded with gold, or at least made to look like real gold. Images of saints and great religious leaders from throughout the centuries gleamed from behind shining glass, framed with more golden filigree. Everywhere they looked, homages to honored men of the Russian Orthodox Church filled nearly every space.

  Straight ahead, the main portion of the sanctuary opened up wide. The gilded walls, covered with more pictures of influential religious figures, climbed high to the towering dome above.

  “Should we ask someone where the relics of Saint Alexius are?” Adriana reckoned.

  “Good idea,” Sean agreed. “Although considering what we’re here to do, it might be better if the priests don’t have a face to go with the crime.”

  “They won’t even know it happened.” She passed him an insistent look. It was a silent message he’d received before, and Sean knew better than to question it. With a snorting laugh, he nodded and ambled over to the bishop—a portly man in his mid-forties with a black beard—who was directing traffic.

  “Excuse me,” Sean said in Russian, “I was wondering where I might find Saint Alexius, Metropolitan of Moscow.”

  “Yes,” the bishop said in a brusque voice. “His reliquary is just over there.” The man pointed to an area off to the right of the main thoroughfare.

  “Thank you.” Sean bowed gracefully and returned to the other three in his group. “Follow me,” he said.

  He led the way through more incoming traffic to an alcove set in the wall to the right of the entrance. There, the image of Saint Alexius in a white robe with a golden sash hung over the archway. Another visage of the man at the bedside of the Khan’s wife was fixed to the wall on the right. To the left was a third picture, this one of Saint Alexius ministering to a group of people gathered around him.

  “Looks like he was a busy guy,” Tabitha chirped.

  A glass partition flush with the walls on either side kept visitors from entering the alcove where a golden box, about twice the size of a shoebox, rested atop a table covered in a golden fabric. The cloth draped down to the stone tile floor underneath.

  “That box must be the reliquary,” Tommy realized out loud.

  “Thanks, Captain Obvious,” Sean muttered.

  Tommy winced. “Yeah, I soft-tossed that one to you.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  Adriana took a step forward, ignoring their interaction.

  “They always like this?” Tabitha asked, shuffling closer to Adriana as she looked into the reliquary, beyond the wall of glass.

  “Usually.”

  Adriana kept her eyes locked on the glass. She brushed a finger against it. The right corner of her lips creased ever so slightly. The glass was thin, barely a quarter of an inch thick. She was surprised the trains passing by on the street outside hadn’t shattered it by now. Getting through it would be simple enough. She had tools in her kit that could cut through glass twice as thick, and there were others she’d used before that could cut through far thicker.

  Her eyes scanned up the seams along the walls on both sides, then where the glass met the ceiling, then down to the floor. Adriana couldn’t believe what she was seeing. There were no sensors in place to keep anyone from simply shattering the thin barrier and walking right into the reliquary. She leaned close and noted the same strange absence of security sensors on the gilded box.

  “It can’t be this easy,” she whispered.

  Sean had drawn up next to her and overheard the comment. “What?” he asked, leaning close.

  “The lack of security in th
is place is almost unnerving.”

  “That’s a good thing, though. Isn’t it?”

  “For us, it is,” Adriana said.

  “So, what’s the problem?” he whispered into her ear.

  “No problem. Just curious, that’s all.”

  “What are you two gossiping about?” Tommy asked from behind them, standing between their adjoining shoulders.

  “Just wondering when your wife is going to be back so we can get a little peace for a few minutes,” Sean replied.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing. Hey, don’t forget to miss the train out of third-wheel station. What time does it depart?”

  “Okay, you’re hilarious,” Tommy glubbed. “Can you just be serious for a second?”

  Sean hummed a laugh. “We’re here to find some stone that could potentially unlock the most powerful weapon ever created. I think things are serious enough.”

  “Good point.” Tommy paused, looking hurt. “Do you really think I’m a third wheel?”

  “Only if it makes you take a step back. People are staring at us with you over our shoulders like that.”

  Tommy abruptly shuffled back and looked around. He couldn’t tell if anyone was looking at him or not, though he could have sworn there were several pairs of eyes locked on him.

  Adriana swatted Sean’s shoulder. The reprimand only made him chuckle.

  “So, what’s the plan?” Tabitha asked, trying to ignore the banter. “Come back later tonight?” She shook her head and looked back through the glass. “I cannot believe I’m saying those words. I’m literally talking about committing a crime. Out loud.”

  “A touch too loud, actually,” Sean hissed. His eyes darted around the immediate area, but it didn’t seem anyone had heard them.

  “No,” Adriana answered her question. She scanned the room, her eyes rolling along the ceiling and walls. Then she found what she was looking for in the corner. “Tommy?”

  “Yeah,” he stepped forward again. “What’s up?”

  “See the red box over there in the far corner?”

 

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