“There it is,” Henri Farbeaux said from the backseat of the rental car.
“Yep, Maritime Welding,” Ryan confirmed as he squinted through the water runoff at the old and battered sign.
It wasn’t as large as most welding outfits, but they were made aware by their link with Europa that some of the more profitable companies flew under the radar as far as labor pricing went. Maritime Welding of Metairie was one of the lesser known but established shops.
The main workshop was a light as was the second, and only a single light shown in what they assumed was the office. Will pulled up and parked.
“It doesn’t look like anyone’s home,” Ryan said as he heard Henry in the back seat chamber a bullet into his nine-millimeter. “No one’s home Colonel. What are going to do, shoot up the joint for fun?”
Farbeaux didn’t answer. His eyes went from the office to the surrounding workshops. His eyes tried in vain to penetrate the rain.
“Okay, you’re managing to creep me out,” Will said, tempted to pull out his own service weapon.
“Something is wrong here,” Henri said as he opened the car’s door. “The Madam said this is a small operation but runs twenty-four hours a day while they have contractors in the field. Plus, do you see that?”
“What?” Mendenhall asked, growing nervous at the accurate way the Frenchman had by way of intuition in dangerous situations.
“Cajuns aren’t typically trusting like us French. They usually don’t leave their office doors ajar. And if you can hear through the rain, for a twenty-four-hour place of business, there doesn’t seem to be any noise.”
Will looked at Ryan. This time he did pull out his Glock nine-millimeter. Ryan did the same as Farbeaux left the dry confines of the car.
“I almost hope he’s right,” Mendenhall said. “Because if he’s not, I guarantee you that most Cajuns here ‘bouts can outgun and outshoot anyone of us.”
“Oh, great,” Jason said as he followed Mendenhall out.
* * *
Henri reached the office door as he sent Mendenhall and Ryan to the two workshops. The colonel eased into the office. He aimed his weapon as he scanned the area. No one home as Ryan had said. He saw a coffee cup and sandwich on the desk and a name plate—Bobby Joe Prendergast. Henri reached out and felt the ceramic cup. The coffee, while not steaming, was still warm to the touch.
Next, he checked the bathroom and the superintendent’s office. No one. He reached out and tuned off the CB radio used to communicate with the welding companies field teams. He saw the diagram on the wall and walked over. It was a blueprint of a platform in the Gulf. The name was instantly familiar because the news on the radio had been blaring its name for most of the day—Mystery Deep.
“Interesting,” Henri said.
Farbeaux left the office and spied the backdoor. He eased into the rain—weapon extended. He saw Ryan and Mendenhall exit the first of the two workshops, hesitating only long enough to glance into the windows of a large step-van parked near a fence. He quickly joined them.
“Anyone in the office?” Will asked.
The Frenchman shook his head. He dipped his head at the workshop they had just exited.
“No. But whoever was there must have left in one hell of a hurry. A cutting torch was still lit and leaning on a sawhorse and a radio was blaring country music. Several lunches were still out in a break room. It looked like someone’s meal was interrupted.”
Farbeaux started for the last building. The door was of the large sliding variety. Henri pulled it open. The three men entered. Farbeaux suddenly held up his left hand into a balled fist, stopping both Ryan and Mendenhall immediately.
Henri scanned the room with the high overhead fluorescent lighting creating shadows everywhere. The pistol went right, indicating one of them go that way and an index finger left for the other. The trio split up. The shop was silent as Henri checked the darkened corners where steep fabricated for offshore rigs sat finished ready for painting.
“Oh God!”
Henri nearly collided with Ryan as they ran to the sound of Will’s voice. They skidded to a halt on the wet cement floor as the vision of what Mendenhall had seen stopped them full force as if striking a brick wall.
Eight men were hanging upside down from the old wooden rafters of the workshop. Their stomachs had been eviscerated as cleanly as chickens. Their arms hung low and each man had a symbol cut into their chests just below their necks. Stepping over the soiled intestines of the welders, Henri spied the double triangle with the line through it. It was as though the men had been sacrificed in some form of brutal ritual. All three men, Will, Jason, and Henri, had all seen the most horrific battlefield wounds, but this was something they were never prepared for. Farbeaux shocked both Mendenhall and Ryan when he used his cell phone and started taking pictures.
“Jesus, Colonel,” Jason said shaking his head.
“Commander, do you want to wait until the authorities arrive and use their photos. Or do you want to get these to your complex as soon as possible. If you insist on waiting for the police, by all means. If not, I suggest we allow the local authorities to take over and for us to leave this place now.”
Jason quickly saw the colonel’s point. He was envious that the Frenchman could think so clear-headedly in the roughest of times.
All three turned to go as thunder rumbled and shook the roof’s corrugated steel. They froze.
“What the—”
Another clap of thunder drowned out Ryan’s exclamation.
Standing at the now closed door was the largest Grey any of them had ever seen, and they had seen a lot. Standing next to the Grey was the smaller form of a man. The dark-haired man was smiling, the Grey was not.
“Gentlemen, our Russian. And it looks like he has a friend,” Henri said and began firing almost immediately. Will and Ryan, shocked at first, quickly caught on that the thing and man in front of them were responsible for the sacrificial slaughter of the men hanging in the rafters. They too laid down a withering fire as they ran for cover. The Grey stepped in front of the much smaller man and swirled both of its four fingered hands in a circle. The air was moist with a watery haze as the alien spun a vortex. The bullets from the Glock nine-millimeter’s stopped mere feet from their target. They reversed in midair and then screamed toward the very men who had fired them in the first place.
As Farbeaux raised his head above several wooden pallets he saw the Grey stride a few steps into the workshop. It raised both hands and then the corrugated tin roof started shaking. The Grey slammed his arms and hands downward. Finally, the nails holding the roof in place were shot from the tin like bullets leaving a gun barrel. The roof crashed onto the three men.
All that was heard was strange laughter and the rain striking the fallen tin.
* * *
Event Group Complex,
Nellis Air Force Base, Nevada
As the department heads spoke among themselves, Jack Collins was growing frustrated. While they debated the meaning of the photo Alice had passed on, Jack felt valuable time was being wasted with the various departments bickering over where to start looking for Charlie, Matchstick and their captor, Elsbeth Barlow, whom the world’s informational systems, including the most advanced computer on the planet, Europa, says doesn’t exist. For Collins and the security department the departments had virtually nothing to go on. With Alice clinging to life in a Las Vegas hospital and not being able to provide any advancing clues as to the whereabouts of Matchstick and Charlie, Jack was anxious to get out to the east coast to start the investigation the old-fashioned way.
Collins was just getting ready to pull he and Carl from the meeting, when Xavier Morales rolled into the conference room.
“Quiet please,” Niles said as he instinctually turned to his right and left and the two painfully obvious empty chairs. To his left, Alice’s vacant spot, to his right, the chair belonging to Virginia Pollock. He cleared his throat as Naval Ensign Helen Torrez sat uncomfortably in
the seat to the directors left side. She had her electronic notepad out and ready to record the minutes of the meeting. Ensign Torres felt sheepish and very much out of place in her replacement of a legend. Niles looked at Xavier and the head of the computer center nodded his head. “Before we begin with a report from Doctor Morales, I have an announcement to make.” Niles cleared his throat and his eyes went down the table to each of the sixteen department heads. He stood up.
Jack exchanged looks with Carl as Niles looked to be having a hard time doing what he had planned. Again, the director tried to clear his throat.
“Sarah Collins,” Niles said. He then pulled out the large high-backed chair to his right side. “I know you don’t want this, but through previous discussions with both Alice Hamilton, and…,” Niles coughed, as it seemed his words were choking him, “…Assistant Director Pollock, you are hereby appointed to the position of Assistant Director, Department 5656, salary package and security clearance to be adjusted at a later time. Please come forward and take your chair please.”
Sarah was wide-eyed as she turned to look at Jack. With a barely perceptible nod of his head she could see that he agreed with Alice, Virginia, and Niles assessment. She began to stand but hesitated. Her legs felt weak and rubbery. She looked up and fixed on Niles who gave her a slight nod of his head. Sarah finally regained the strength in her legs and stood and slowly walked to the front.
Jack looked over at Carl and Anya. Both looked almost as proud as he was. It was Carl who started the soft hand slap on the conference table. Soon all department heads lightly tapped their hands in agreement. As she approached Virginia’s chair, Sarah wanted to turn and run from the conference room. Niles held the chair out and nodded that it was alright to sit where her good friend had for many, many years. Niles placed his hands on her shoulders and patted lightly his encouragement. He leaned over and whispered. Jack couldn’t hear what the director said but he could see his new wife of three days swipe a tear from her cheek. If he knew Sarah, that would be the last tear she would ever shed in front of the assembly.
“Sorry Colonel Collins, I feel like I’m interfering in your marriage already, after all, I just promoted your new wife over you and that makes her your boss at home and place of business. Apologies.” Niles joking manner gave the Group a chance at a rare smile and then he sat down.
“Quite alright Mr. Director, if you think I have it bad, just wait until she disagrees with you.”
The lighthearted moment from the roughest man in the Group went a long way in breaking the black spell cast by Virginia’s sudden death.
“Doctor Morales, I suspect you have some news?”
“Yes, sir. I have managed to decipher some of the symbols using non-historical records. It seems whoever we are dealing with is quite knowledgeable in ancient Sumerian sand-script. I have pinned down the symbols as having come from Northern Iraq and has been considered a dead language for at least seven thousand years. This is why there is no documented historical context to the symbols.”
“You said you deciphered some of them, Doctor?” Sarah asked, immediately jumping into the fray just as readily as Virginia Pollock would have done. Jack smiled inwardly as Sarah proved him to have been right about his choice of loves from the beginning.
“Europa, please display research paper 190-224.”
In the center of the room a large, ten by ten pad rose from the floor as the new and ingenious holographic display system was used for the first time, replacing the antiquated misting-projection hologram from years past. Soon Europa had the symbols displayed in a blue, red, and yellow replica of the symbols found at Alice Hamilton’s house. Xavier rolled his backless wheelchair straight into the revolving display.
“Now, you’ll have to excuse Europa, it seems out friend doesn’t care for the symbols all that much as it interferes with her entire system as if the symbols themselves were acting as a mode of electrical interference. As soon as I know how this is possible, I will inform you all. “Europa, suspend your audible and visual systems please. That’s for her own protection until we find out exactly what we’re dealing with.”
‘Yes, Doctor Morales.’
“Let’s take the most prevalent symbol first, shall we?” Xavier moved his wheelchair to the right and the hologram showed the four-pointed star with the triangle surrounding it. It slowly spun in a circle as the view was augmented for all to see clearly.
“A Pentangle?” Niles Compton asked.
“Yes. That is what I and the ancient languages department thought. But through her knowledge of gypsy lore, Major Korvesky,” he nodded his head at Anya, “says that while there are many versions of the ancient symbol, the basic design has always been that of a four-pointed star surrounded by a circle. As you can see, this pentangle has a triangle around it. Major Korvesky says that modern cults and devil worshipers use this more modern symbol because, well,” Xavier smiled and shook his head, “frankly speaking, they’re idiots. Gypsy lore says that the triangle pentangle is far more ancient than this modern version. Seven to fifteen thousand years old.”
Whispers and talk began immediately.
“You say the original is ancient Sumerian?” Niles asked, keeping the meeting on track.
“Yes. A variant, smaller, larger, more detailed has been found on ruins that date back to the time before Moses and even before Babylonian society. Some historic markers have been found in cave systems in Iraq between the Tigress and Euphrates rivers. The late and brilliant Doctor Halpern of the University of Akron describes the symbol as mostly a symbolic symbol by early civilized man in reference to a subterranean deity, or God if you will. But he never developed any proof of his thesis before his death.”
“What is the name of this God?” Sarah asked.
Jack was proud as he knew Sarah spent most of her professional life deep in the underground world of the planet and had come across many strange and wondrous thing in our geological past. The woman knew caves and geology.
“Europa come back online please,” Xavier said as he rolled further away so he could view the next hologram.
‘Online, Doctor.’
“Access the Halpern thesis from January of 1937, please. Please name the deity in correspondence to the symbol.”
A new hologram of a rotating cave opening appeared and circled the room. Then the CGI display morphed into a view deep inside the cave itself. ‘Ancient Sumerian text decipher the symbol as representing the deity known ten thousand years ago as Asmodius. This name corresponds with modern texts from ancient Egyptian and a lessor known Hindu form of the same name. This has been confirmed in Greek, Sumerian, and ancient Hebrew texts. Asmodius—known as, the Prince of Demons.’
“Okay Europa identify the double linked triangles with the horizontal line piercing both, please,” Xavier said and then watched the gathered department managers for their reactions.
‘The symbol is known for ancient royalty and was sometimes associated with biblical text from the earliest age of man and retranslated in the old testament. The two triangles represent father and son. The horizontal line has been known to depict the relationship to royalty. Father and son in this context as explained by Professor Halpern, suggests that in his opinion is misleading at best. His description is as follows. The father and son reality is of King and Subject. This father and son symbol represents a passage from the Old Testament described in Ezekiel 28:12 and Isaiah :14—,”
“Europa, summation please,” Xavier said, trying to keep his supercomputer on point without reciting the entire biblical passage.
‘Yes, Doctor. While many biblical scholars concede the modern point of view that the references from the old testament refer to a real human king of Babylonia being cast aside from the sight of God, it is Professor Halpern’s opinion that the biblical account was right from the beginning and that the more redux version by modernists is wrong. Halpern then was influenced by a text that has been met with skepticism that was originally placed in the old testament claiming
that the archangel Asmodius Modai was cast from heaven for rebelling against God.’
“Doctor Morales are you suggesting that the symbol is describing a fallen archangel named Asmodius Modai? It sounds suspiciously like you’re describing Lucifer and his fall from grace.”
“Correct, Professor Freeling. That is exactly what I and Europa are claiming. You are a theology professor and you know as well as I that Asmodius means prince of demons. What greater demon and villain in human history is more so than Lucifer himself? Place the symbols back to back and you have the name Asmodius Modai, an alias for the men and women here that are skeptical. Ladies and gentlemen, I may not believe in the fairytales a lot of people in this room do. But I do believe in facts. Are we dealing with someone, or something that is in all actuality, Lucifer? Probably not. Are we dealing with an insane entity that that it believes that very thing? In my opinion, yes.”
“Then you are saying that our friend and colleague, and Colonel Collins four security men, were murdered by some nutcase that thinks he’s the fallen one, or should I say the Prince of Darkness?” Professor Freeling scoffed.
The room erupted and Collins exchanged looks with Everett who merely shook his head.
“Regardless, Doctor Morales and Europa has put a name to our enemy. Suggestions Doctor?” Niles asked.
“No evidence other than the ancient symbols left at the crime scene. Four of Colonel Collins more experienced security men caught off guard and crushed to death? I’m leaning toward a more fantastic reality than your normal criminal type. I believe the miraculous rising of Matchstick and the kidnapping of Charlie, coupled with what happened at Mrs. Hamilton’s home, have to be related somehow.”
Suddenly three tones sounded, and the complex inner-communications system came on.
‘Colonel Collins, a disturbance is being reported at Gate number one. Complex Security is currently observing an intruder. The intruder is currently being detained by Air Police elements from Nellis. Please advise.’
Season of the Witch Page 18
