03 The Europa Conspiracy

by Tim LaHaye

  “It’s a wonder that he wasn’t killed!”

  “Well, his fall was broken by a huge snowbank. It softened his landing somewhat, and the snow covered him at the moment of the explosion. When I saw him, he was in the cave with me, Isis, and Azgadian. The guardian of the ark not only rescued me but he brought Peterson to safety.”

  “Was Vern all right after the drop from the helicopter?”

  “At first we thought he only had some bad cuts and a sprained ankle. But he was coughing a lot in the cave, and we realized that he must have some internal bleeding. We got him to a small clinic in Dogubayazit. From there he was transferred to the hospital in Erzurum. He’s recovering now in Turkey and should be back in the U.S. sometime this month.”

  “And the ark? Did you find it?”

  Murphy was quiet for a while, then looked around the diner as if checking whether anyone was listening. He leaned toward Wagoner and replied, “It was unbelievable. Fantastic! It was better than anything I could have ever imagined.”

  Wagoner’s eyes grew wide. “You’ve got to be kidding!” he exclaimed. “You really found it?”

  “Yes, Bob. It was there. Half of it was buried in a glacier, but we were able to enter the rest of it.”

  “Did you bring back some pictures?”

  Murphy’s eyes lost their sparkle. “Talon destroyed them all. We have no physical evidence. Talon set a charge and started an avalanche that covered the ark with tons of snow. There are now only four living eyewitnesses: myself, Isis, Azgadian, and Talon. It would take a miracle to find the ark now.”

  Wagoner saw the disappointment on Murphy’s face. He decided to change the course of the conversation. “Speaking of Isis, how’s she doing?” he asked, smiling slightly.

  Murphy smiled back. “She’s doing fine. She went back to work at the Parchments of Freedom Foundation. I think she was a little tired after all the trials we went through.”

  “That’s not exactly what I was talking about.”

  Murphy smiled again. “She’s a very attractive woman, Bob.”

  “Are you interested?”

  “Okay, I’m interested. But I feel a little guilty”

  “Michael, it’s been a year and a half since Laura’s death. Stop beating yourself up. Let me ask you a question: What do you think Laura would want you to do? Do you think she would want you to remain single forever?”

  “Okay, Bob. I’ve got your message. Could we change the subject?”

  “Did you find anything on the ark?” Wagoner asked. He could sense the excitement on his friend’s face. “Well, come on, man! I’m dying to know.”

  “I must have your word that you won’t repeat what I’m going to tell you.”

  “You’ve got it, Michael. I’ll not say a word.”

  Murphy proceeded to tell him about the discovery of the brass plates that held the secret of the Philosopher’s Stone, a discovery that could eliminate the need for fossil fuels. He talked about the singing sword they found and the vases full of self-lighting crystals.

  Wagoner sat there, nodding in amazement. “Where are the brass plates, sword, and crystals now?”

  “At the bottom of the Black Sea with Talon. I think he was chewed to pieces by the propeller blades of the ship … which made me feel sorry for the ship.”

  Wagoner made a face. “I can’t blame you for having such feelings.” He would probably feel the same way if someone had crushed his wife’s larynx. “Is there any way to retrieve the plates?”

  “There might be if we had a minisub and lots of time. However, it’d be like looking for a needle in a haystack.”

  “Doesn’t that ship travel the same route each week?”

  “I’m sure it does,” Murphy replied. “Why?”

  “Couldn’t you get the charts of their route? If you had that and the approximate time of day when Talon went overboard, you could narrow the search quite a bit. At least it would be a smaller haystack.”

  “That’s not a bad idea, Bob. And if we had some metal detecting equipment, it might be possible. I don’t think the pack has had much time to settle into the sand yet. It might be worth a try.”

  Murphy glanced at his watch. Time had flown by. “Hey, Bob, I’ve got to go.”

  The two men walked out to the parking lot. Wagoner said, “I’d like to pray with you before I leave. I want to pray that God will give you great wisdom and courage. He has evidently called you to some very unique and dangerous tasks. I’m also going to pray about your possible relationship with Isis.”

  “Thanks, Bob. I appreciate your friendship, and I can certainly use your prayers.”

  FIVE

  WELL, STEPHANIE KOVACS-Ace Reporter, are you happy?

  She could see the emptiness in her eyes as she looked in the mirror to put on her lipstick.

  Do you like being a mistress? Is it worth the price?

  Now she found herself getting angry. She had sold her own pride and self-image for an extravagant lifestyle, for power and influence, and to further her career as a news journalist.

  She stood up and shook her head a little. It gave her hair that wild-tiger look that Shane liked. She took one last look at her low-cut black dress that gave maximum exposure to her ample chest. She felt sexy. She smoothed the dress over her slim hips and turned and looked at herself from both sides. Pleased, she left the room.

  Barrington was pacing back and forth in front of the penthouse windows when she entered the living room. Behind him the lights of the city sparkled like beautiful jewels in the night.

  “What’s wrong, Shane?” Stephanie asked. He looked a little startled and slightly embarrassed. Shane Barrington was not the kind of man who liked anyone to think that he could be bothered by anything. Frowning, he said, “I was just thinking about something.”

  “Between us?” There was a touch of fear in her voice. Even though they had been together for a while, she didn’t feel secure in their relationship. Barrington was known for his verbal bursts of anger and had blown up at her on several occasions. He had never hit her, but often she felt that she had to walk on eggshells around him.

  “No, no. Of course not. I was just thinking about work. We haven’t had a good news story in a couple of weeks. I like to be on top of any breaking events. It’s good for the ratings and makes the Barrington Network News lots of money.”

  Kovacs nodded.

  “Say, what ever happened to Professor What’s-his-name at Preston University? You know, the one who searches for biblical artifacts,” Barrington asked.

  “You mean Dr. Michael Murphy?”

  “Yeah, yeah. That’s the one. Didn’t he leave on some kind of search for something?”

  Barrington knew full well who Murphy was. He was just trying to play dumb. He didn’t want to come across as too interested. That would arouse Stephanie’s news reporter curiosity. He also didn’t want to reveal the increased pressure that the Seven were putting on him for information. They hadn’t heard from Talon after he had come down from Ararat. He had seemed to disappear off the face of the earth.

  Immediately a red flag went up in Kovacs’s mind. What’s Shane trying to do? she wondered. He knows full well who Murphy is and that he’s looking for Noah’s Ark. He even tried to hire him, but Murphy turned him down. Who’s he trying to fool?

  “Yes,” Kovacs replied slowly, thinking. “He was looking for Noah’s Ark on Mount Ararat.”

  “Whatever came of that?” Barrington, looking out the windows, appeared to be engrossed in a police helicopter flying with its searchlight on.

  “I don’t know.” He’s after something. A spark of enthusiasm surged through her. It reminded her of the excitement she felt when following up on investigative leads. Maybe this was the opportunity she had been looking for.

  Her mind flashed back to that night when she stepped into the room on top of the Barrington Communications Building. It had been filled with huge sprays of flowers, the carpet sprinkled with rose petals. Barrington had said that it w
as in appreciation for her hard work and loyalty and that it was to make up for having missed dinner with her. That night a small crack in his armor of secrecy had been exposed. He had told her that some people had found out about his massive debts and less-than-legal creative accounting. They had invested $5 billion into Barrington Communications, and he was now their pawn.

  Kovacs had wondered who these powerful people were, but Barrington would say only that they were “hell-bent on establishing a one-world government. And a one-world religion too. And people like Murphy, they see it all coming, in the Bible. So they have to be stopped. Before they can persuade others to resist.”

  In the time that they had been together, Kovacs had recognized that Barrington was doing something more than just making money. It was more than just fulfilling a power-hungry ego. It was something… evil.

  I need to get away from this man and his lifestyle, Stephanie recognized. It’s not what I really want. It’s empty. Maybe this is where I can make some kind of difference and somehow redeem my poor choices. I can warn Murphy of the danger he is in.

  “Shane, why don’t you let me check it out for you? There might be a story that you could use.”

  Perfect, she took the bait. Barrington grinned to himself. She’s so easy to manipulate.

  “Well, that might give you a change of pace,” he said. “If that’s something you’d like to do, then go for it. Take one of the cameramen if you need one. You can also use the jet if you like.”

  You can’t let Shane know your true feelings. You need more time to plan your escape from him. You must keep up the masquerade. Kovacs ran over to him and gave him a big hug.

  He kissed her. Great! I’ll have a good evening tonight and get the information I need too. Not bad, Barrington. Not bad.

  SIX

  “MURPHY, DO YOU HAVE any idea how old that white powder and chips were?”

  Shari’s green eyes were bright with excitement. She so loved the joy of discovery.

  “Let me guess, Shari. Hmmm … at least two thousand years old?”

  Shari put her hands on her hips and cocked her head. “You knew, didn’t you?” she said accusingly.

  “I was only guessing, Shari.”

  Murphy proceeded to tell her about his vacation in Colorado. When he was finished, she began, “I—”

  Murphy put his hand up to stop her. “I know. I know. You’re going to tell me I shouldn’t have gone.”

  “You’ve got that right!”

  She knew that it would be a losing battle to go any further. “Well, after all that effort, did you come to any conclusion?” she asked.

  “I have to admit, it took me quite a while. The brass scale at the base of the tree was quite a puzzler. Especially with the broken numbers one and two.”

  “Did the note help?”

  “In fact, it did. I kept repeating the phrase over and over in my mind: BABYLON—375 METERS DIRECTLY NORTHEAST OF THE HEAD. Then it hit me. It was referring to the head of the golden statue that Nebuchadnezzar built. The same one that was taken to the Parchments of Freedom Foundation. Methuselah was giving me directions to another find. It must be located 375 meters directly northeast of where we found the golden head.”

  “What do you think it is?”

  “Hold on to your pigtails. I think you’re going to like this. I think it might be the Handwriting on the Wall that was mentioned in Daniel, Chapter Five.”

  “You mean the one where God used the fingers and hand of a man to write a message to King Belshazzar? You’re crazy. How’d you come up with that?”

  “It was the scale with the broken numbers one and two in the pans. Remember what the Handwriting on the Wall said?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “It said ‘MENE, MENE, TEKEL, UPHARSIN.’”

  “Oh, that’s right. How could I forget? That makes perfect sense. I really understand now.”

  “Okay, okay. Give me a break. The word MENE means numbered. It was repeated twice. That stands for the numbers one and two in the pans. The word TEKEL means weighed. That’s what the brass scales represented. The word UPHARSIN means divided. That’s why the numbers were divided into two pieces. Translated into plain English it means: God numbered the days of Belshazzar’s rule as the king. He found him weighed in the balance scales of God’s judgment, and he was to be punished by dividing his kingdom and giving it to others.”

  “What about the white powder?”

  “It’s plaster. In Daniel Chapter Five it says that the handwriting was in the plaster on the wall opposite the lamp stand. I believe that the envelope held some of the plaster off that very wall. If this theory is true, that plaster is over twenty-five hundred years old.”

  Murphy went to his office and phoned the Parchments of Freedom Foundation for Isis.

  He didn’t realize how nervous he was until he was placed on hold.

  Drumming his fingers on the desk, he thought, You’re like a schoolboy, Murphy. Grow up!

  “Michael.” Murphy could hear the excitement in Isis’s voice. He smiled, wishing he could drown in her sparkling green eyes. Pull yourself together!

  “Isis. How are you?”

  There was a slight pause. “I’m better now, Michael.”

  For a moment her words caught him off guard. He wasn’t usually tongue-tied but now he struggled to collect his thoughts.

  “Isis, I’m in between classes now. I was thinking about you and was wondering if… Okay, you can do this … you might be free Friday and Saturday. I need to fly up to New York. Could you fly up from D.C. and meet for the weekend?”

  “That sounds wonderful, Michael.”

  After hanging up, Isis let out a big breath of air and stared out the window. Just hearing his voice had sent a thrill through her.

  SEVEN

  MURPHY COULD FEEL his Irish temper rising. The closer he got to the lecture hall, the more irritated he was becoming. It had all started when he pulled up in the parking lot and saw the van with BNN on the side. The thought of Barrington Network News being on campus brought a bad taste to his mouth.

  His mind flashed back to the explosion at the church. He remembered trying to comfort Shari over the loss of her brother and Pastor Bob trying to console him over the murder of Laura. A BNN crew had been there. The network seemed always to be butting in at the most inopportune and painful times in a person’s life. All the reporters wanted was a big story. They didn’t care about people’s feelings.

  Then his thoughts shifted to the funeral of Hank Baines. He could remember what that reporter, Stephanie Kovacs, had said as she shoved a microphone in front of his face.

  “Here at the memorial service for FBI agent Hank Baines, I’m talking with Dr. Michael Murphy of Preston University. Dr. Murphy, you were the last person to see Hank Baines alive, is that right?”

  She had tried to pressure him into an emotional response.

  “What is it you and Agent Baines were discussing, Dr. Murphy? Have you told the police? Have you told his grieving widow? Tell me, do you feel any sense of responsibility for his death?”

  Since that time, Murphy’s resentment of news reporters had grown.

  Near the entrance to the lecture hall, he could see Stephanie Kovacs sitting on a bench under the magnolia tree. Students were talking with her. Her cameraman was positioning himself for the best shots.

  She rose as he approached. “Dr. Murphy. Could I have a moment with you?”

  Students were watching, so Murphy did his best to appear cordial. He took a deep breath and said, “What can I do for you, Miss Kovacs?”

  “We happened to be in the area and were wondering if it would be possible for us to attend your lecture today?”

  Right! Just happened to be in the area. Murphy had suspicions that there was more she was after, but all he said was “Anyone is free to come in, Miss Kovacs.”

  “Would it be permissible to shoot some video footage?” She flashed her most charming smile.

  “I suppose, as long as
you don’t disturb the class. I prefer to have the students thinking about the topic rather than what they’ll look like on the evening news.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Murphy. We will be quite discreet.”

  Quite discreet! Now, there’s a change. What’s with this meek and mild approach?

  “Good morning, class. Before we get started today, you may have noticed that we have a celebrity with us—Stephanie Kovacs. Most of you will recognize her as one of BNN’s top investigative reporters. She’s brought along her cameraman.”

  The rowdy students clapped, cheered, and whistled. Kovacs acknowledged the din with a smile.

  “The cameraman will be moving around taking a few shots. Try not to make faces or hand signs or you may be investigated,” Murphy warned with a grin.

  Everyone laughed.

  “That especially goes for you, Clayton.”

  Clayton Anderson, the class clown, turned his palms up and opened his mouth in mock shock. Who, me? he mouthed, pointing at himself.

  “Today we will be considering a new subject,” Murphy said more seriously. “We’ll focus on the ancient city of Babylon. You may want to jot down a few notes. This will he on the test.”

  There was a groan and the sound of notebooks opening.

  “As you will recall from the lectures about Noah’s Ark, Noah had three sons: Shem, Ham, and Japheth. Ham was the son who violated his father while he was asleep. One of his sons was named Cush, and he had a son named Nimrod.”

  Murphy could see that some of the students had a questioning look on their faces.

  “Stay with me. I need to lay this foundation. In plain English, Nimrod was the great-grandson of Noah. The Bible calls him a great hunter or warrior. His name in Hebrew literally means ‘let us rebel.’ This can all be found in Genesis Chapter Ten.

  “The Jewish historian Josephus identifies Nimrod as the builder of the Tower of Babel. This great tower was built to represent the people’s rebellion against God and the setting up of their own power structure. They did not want to come under His influence. It was at the Tower of Babel that God confused the people and created different language groups.”