by JD Dutra
Dark Ages: 2020
Copyright © 2015 by Sophistworks, LLC. All Rights Reserved.
ISBN-10: 0-9966901-0-7
ISBN-13: 978-0-9966901-0-2
First Edition: September 2015
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written consent of Sophistworks, LLC.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons – living or dead – is entirely coincidental.
For more information about the author, please visit
JDDutra.com
Table of Contents
Acknowledgements
A note from the author
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
To my children, this is for you. You're too young to read this novel, but when you're old enough, read it regularly. I've hidden a few little secrets inside this work that may come in handy for you someday. I have no doubt you'll find them all, in time.
I'd like to express my gratitude to Graham Schofield, David Schofield and Jean Jones for your time and guidance. Without you, this novel wouldn't exist.
A note from the author
Hi there, I just wanted to say thank you for reading this novel! I’d love to hear your opinion on it, good or bad. Would you drop me a line? I answer all my emails within just a few days. My email is [email protected].
Also, if you want to be notified as soon as Book 2 is available or find out more about the ideas behind this novel and more about me, visit my website - jddutra.com.
I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I appreciate the time (and money) you spent on this novel.
Have a great day, and hope to hear from you soon!
Sincerely,
JD Dutra
Prologue
Grand Resort Lagonissi, Athens Greece
Saturday, July 4th 2020
8:03 P.M.
The video that shattered all previous YouTube records was filmed with a hidden camera, concealed in a pair of reading glasses. The video wasn’t clear at first, it was hard to tell what exactly was being filmed. When the picture cleared, the first image was that of a luxurious meeting hall, with large and artistic marble columns and huge sparkling crystal chandeliers. The people in this spacious room matched their surroundings; they exuded wealth, sophistication and elitism.
There was certainly a very interesting mix of backgrounds, styles and ages and among these people were famous and familiar faces. There were high level European and North American politicians, a world renowned singer from South America, a celebrated French artist and an internet mogul from the United States. They mingled and talked to one another and with people who weren’t recognizable at all. Everyone in the room had an air of superiority about them, and they regarded one another with the artificial etiquette only known to the rich and powerful, no matter where they were from in the world.
A beautiful brunette, who looked like she’d spent days at a luxurious spa getting ready for this event, turned to the camera and smiled as she greeted the person behind it. The image of the video froze for a moment and a name appeared under the woman’s face - Erika Darya Galchev, daughter of a Russian natural gas tycoon. Next to her was an elegant, middle aged Asian woman and the picture froze once again and another name appeared. This was Jiao Meifeng, the wife of a high level Chinese army commander.
Expensive looking chairs, set out in neat rows, faced an ornate lectern decorated with exotic flowers from different parts of the world and as a figure approached the raised platform everyone began to sit down. From a distance the person wasn’t immediately recognizable; a bald white man in his mid-40’s perhaps, with dark rimmed glasses, wearing a sports coat and golden chains and rings. He placed his hands on the lectern and few seconds later, the room, filled with hundreds of people, fell into complete and absolute silence. The only sound was the heavy but controlled breathing of the person behind the camera.
“Greetings my brothers and sisters, what an honor it is to be before you this evening,” began the man behind the exotic lectern. His voice was calm, yet filled with the forcefulness of a determined man. His English sounded clear and fluent, yet his accent was easy to place; this man was Italian.
“To stand before you as a group, because of what you collectively represent, and before each of you as individuals because of who you are… because of your role in this world and in the world to come.” The picture in the video froze again, and the name Enzo Mario Lamberti appeared on the screen. He was the son of the last Governor of the Banca d’Italia, the Italian Central Bank which had been dissolved into the European Central Bank during the birth of the Euro currency.
“I hope you have enjoyed our meeting, the panels, and the speakers and our opportunities for networking. My favorite, as always with our gatherings, is the food and I have to say that the local Greek seafood, when prepared by the hands of the Chef de Cuisine here at the Grand Resort Lagonissi, it is transformed into something worthy of the old Greek gods themselves. I will miss it and I’m sure so will all of you.”
The crowd chuckled lightly, he continued.
“Isn’t it amazing what people can do with raw materials? I believe it all starts with someone’s imagination. When it comes to food, someone simply imagines what a raw material, let’s say escargots, can taste like, if mixed with certain ingredients, if cooked a certain way. The creativity of man can elevate the mundane into something the gods themselves will envy.”
As the speaker took a sip of water there was absolute silence in the meeting hall, the breathing of the camera holder sounded a little heavier.
“Take for example our hosts, the Greeks. Their creative experiments in democracy started not far from here, about 34 kilometers or so, about 2500 years ago. What a raw escargot that was. Time and many adjustments were needed in order to turn democracy into what it is today, a ravishing dish so irresistible, millions have killed and died for a chance to feast on it. I believe they love it because democracy is the hope for equality, everyone is equal under the law… except for us. Because we mak
e the laws and they benefit us above all other citizens in our countries.”
Lamberti paused to allow the murmurs of assent and nodding of heads before he continued. During the brief silence the camera momentarily turned and when it stopped, it was focusing at the main door, where three rough men wearing fine tuxedos and earpieces stood, glancing at the crowd. One of them looked in the direction of the camera, and the camera discretely turned towards the speaker once again.
“Because of the way we have shaped true democracy around the world, this very day you and I, in this beautiful resort, have experienced comforts and foods not even Caesar or Nero in all their splendor, could have imagined.”
“My brothers and sisters, I am here to confirm to you, as the last speaker of our conference, that yet another phase of ‘experiments’ in democracy is about to begin. I know that, as Nero and Caesar couldn’t dream about our lives today, what the future holds for us and for our individual posterities can’t be even dreamed or imagined by you or by me.”
Enzo Lamberti took another sip of water, and continued.
“Over the last 15 years we have entered a cycle similar to the one at the end of the Roman Empire and there has been a shift in the mindset of the people where democracy reigns all over the world. While in the past, entrepreneurs and hard-working people fought for their own individual independence from us and created products and services that pushed our civilization forward, now, we are seeing an exponential shift into the opposite direction. Entrepreneurs and other industrious individuals are simply giving up and joining in with the rest of the population. They content themselves with a slice of someone else’s work and productivity, instead of producing their own.”
“This entitlement mindset we have worked so hard to create through our educational systems and the media has now taken deep root within our cultures. We have established a majority of people within each democracy who are now entirely dependent on us, so that we can steer them in whatever direction ‘The Ones’ who guide us desire. This majority has now reached the point where they are holding back the progress and innovation in virtually all the countries which are important to us.”
“Of course, ‘The Ones’ who guide us have warned in past meetings that this day would come - they’ve told us to prepare. Our governments have been preparing - they are ready and our organization is ready… the time for a complete reset is at hand.”
All this was said with the vigor and confidence of a man who knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that his words were true. The crowd stayed completely silent but, by the expressions of the people around the camera, they all understood exactly what he meant.
“All please rise!”
As well as sounding confident and serious, his tone when he gave the order held a hint of vibrant excitement. He smiled as he watched the crowd stand, his hands left the lectern to form symbols with each hand. The cameraman stood up then looked down to those around him; everyone’s hands formed something that looked like the ‘OK’ sign. The thumb and index finger curved, touching at the tips, forming a circle, the other three fingers of each hand pointing straight into the air.
Everyone brought their hands to their eyes, as if looking through a lens held in the circle of their fingers. The cameraman formed the same symbols and brought them to his eyes, causing the video to go out of focus for a few moments, but the sound still worked.
“Repeat after me” Enzo Mario Lamberti said with solemn decorum, holding the ancient and mystical symbols with each hand around his eyes.
“My eyes have been opened to the truth of this world, never to be closed again.” The crowd repeated the phrase with firmness, their voices in unison as if rehearsed. The cameraman’s voice sounded low and smooth, he spoke the words with a heavy American accent, likely from Boston.
“All I am and all I have, I gained through the knowledge of this truth. All I have and I am, belong to those who enlighten me,” Lamberti continued, and the crowd and the cameraman repeated.
Lamberti’s hands now fell from his eyes to his chest, right over his heart, his fingertips and thumbs touching, as if holding the outline of a small pyramid, palms facing away from his chest. The attendees did the same and the man with the hidden camera followed. Lamberti began to speak again.
“The One Seeing Eye is always watching me, my thoughts and actions. ‘The Ones’ who guide me will not let me betray this oath. Curse and death fall upon me and my bloodline if I am unfaithful.”
As the crowd repeated the words, the smooth Boston accented voice trembled ever so slightly as it finished the reciting the final oath. Then Lamberti’s voice filled the luxurious meeting hall again, the solemn tone giving way once more to a friendly one.
“Farewell brothers and sisters, may you stay faithful and true to our cause and may you remember your oath, ‘The Ones’ who guide us, and history itself. What is coming has happened before, it is necessary, it will happen again - it is for the greater good of humanity. The ruins of past civilizations and the splendor of our new modern civilization to come is a testament to this truth. We deserve our place, but we are all humbled to be at the forefront of this organization. I will see you in five years’ time, farewell!”
An immediate standing ovation followed the closing of Lamberti’s speech, and the cameraman looked around some more, his masculine hand bringing a handkerchief to dry up sweat around his forehead and behind his neck. The video’s image then began to tremble more as the cameraman walked towards the massive, ornate wooden exit doors with quick steps, dodging the masses of the rich and powerful who more casually headed in the same direction. As the cameraman walked through the doors one of the three security guards locked eyes with him for a brief moment. The name that appeared under the guard’s face was Reza Mansoor, an active duty Iranian Army General.
The Iranian’s face frowned with suspicion, and as he opened his mouth to speak, a man dressed in a lavish Middle Eastern attire embraced Reza, kissed his cheek and began speaking with him. Reza broke his gaze at the camera and smiled broadly at the man, apparently recognizing him. The cameraman faced forward and kept on walking, his pace a little faster now, the sound of his footsteps against the ancient marble tile drowning out what was being said all around him.
Greek art pieces in the Grand Resort’s extravagant and luxurious lobby came in full view, along with a large banner that read ‘Welcome Bilderbergers’. Some of the people in the meeting hall stood in the lobby, chatting with one another, and others were outside waiting for their drivers. The video then showed a brand new Escalade limousine pulling up in front of a group of Asian businessmen. As the driver held one of the doors open and ushered them in, the cameraman walked briskly towards the front passenger door of the limousine. His arm reached out to grab the handle, and before his face could reflect off the door’s glass, the video ended.
Chapter 1
Inova Fairfax Hospital, Falls Church, Virginia
Tuesday, October 20th, 2020
9:23 A.M.
As she walked the halls of the Inova Fairfax Hospital once again, Robyn Soetoro marveled at the advances of modern medicine. The machines looked so modern and robot like, the décor and staff were gracefully refined and pleasant. Maybe it was her position that demanded such good manners from the hospital staff. Maybe it was her entourage of assistants, bodyguards and secretaries that was intimidating. She was feeling great about herself, wearing a stylish designer blouse and skirt. Her makeup was done to perfection and the gold jewelry she wore on her wrist and fingers accentuated her ebony skin elegantly.
The best hospital in the country was a fitting place for her husband to recuperate from his accident. She was shocked when she first heard of what happened, even more so when she showed up at this hospital for the first time and found out that her husband was in a medically induced coma and that he had had emergency surgery.
That was over three weeks ago.
Today, his doctor had called her hours before, asking her to come in, her husband’s med
ication was being cut back and he would be waking up sometime this morning. As she put the phone down a few ideas passed through her mind; she wondered yet again what had really happened that night when he was rushed to the hospital.
Now she needed a good explanation as to why she had only been to the hospital twice since her husband was admitted, the first being when the accident first happened, then now.
Maybe I could blame it on the children and their needs…Yes, that would do.
“Doctor Singh, how are you?” She said with a polite smile, extending her hand to the turban wearing doctor.
“First Lady Soetoro, thank you for coming and welcome once again,” he held her hand in his, bowed and when his turban blocked the view of her hand, she felt his lips press softly between her knuckles.
“How is my husband doing?”
“He is doing well. The surgery is healing nicely and we plan on letting him go home over the next few days. He is being heavily medicated because of the pain and there is also a risk of infection, but he should wake up any moment now; I’m sure he’d love to see you by his side.” His English came with only a slight accent, and he was doing his best not to look her in the eyes.
“I’m sure he would love to see me too, where is he?” She gave an amused look at Elaine, one of her secretaries, who winked back at her.
“Room 100 is right down the hall. I need to ask that you be the only person to visit him, he tried to wake up a little earlier but the medicine was still in his system, he was disoriented. It is best if you go by yourself, First Lady Soetoro.”
She smiled at the doctor and thanked him, then allowed her assistants and staff to take a break. Her bodyguards were to coordinate with the bodyguards at her husband’s door and take breaks too.
When she slowly opened the door to his room and entered, he was still asleep. She sat down and opened a gossip magazine; the front page story was about the mysterious robbery turned murder of the world famous actor John McAdams and his family. The gossip magazine said that it was actually a drug deal gone wrong which involved one of his teenage sons.
