Knowing what she was doing was wrong on so many levels, she tried to pull away, but Ruben held onto her hand.
He pulled her back towards him and she felt her resistance falter. She was desperate to feel something, a connection, anything. And how better than in the arms of an attractive man who cared for her? She leant into him, as he did to her, and brushed her lips against his. He didn’t kiss her back, but he didn’t move away either; he stayed where he was, as if frozen in time.
‘I thought you hated me.’ She moved closer still and kissed him again.
His lips parted and he kissed her back. The kiss deepened and he grasped her shoulders. A second later he’d pushed her to the ground and was gazing down at her with tormented desire.
Sarah thought he was about to leave, but he removed his robe and Sarah found herself tearing off her clothing as they kissed again, his body surrendering to hers and hers to his, past conversations of lust and belief forgotten in a moment of weakness born of despair.
Chapter Two Hundred Five
Sarah and Ruben lay on the ground of the cave, the light of their flashlight casting shadows from their naked bodies on the rock walls. Ruben touched the healing wound on her chest left by Konstantin’s sword, his expression unreadable. His fingers then worked their way over the other scars on her chest left by the Anakim pendant’s entry and subsequent removal. Her body certainly wasn’t what it had been, but Ruben didn’t seem to mind. He caressed the golden cross tattooed into her skin and Sarah said, ‘What does cruce signatus mean?’
‘Why?’
‘You whispered it, when you touched me back at the Vatican.’
‘When I touched this cross?’ he said, resting his hand just below her breast.
Sarah nodded.
‘It means, “One signed by the cross”.’
‘Yes, but what’s its significance?’
‘It’s the phrase that birthed the term, crusade.’ His expression changed and he withdrew his hand and got to his feet.
Sarah didn’t know what to say as she watched him dress. She suddenly felt dreadful for her part in breaking his vow, but equally she didn’t feel as alone as she had done prior to their lovemaking. She thought back to the initial experience and knew sex was a more apt description, for despite his claim about caring for her, his release of sexual tension hadn’t been gentle, as years of pent up abstinence had released with a desperate need that made her wonder how he could have put himself through such torment in the first place. However, after he’d climaxed, he’d continued to pleasure her, his recovery time non-existent, and desperation became a slow burning desire full of soft caresses and reverent heart-stopping kisses. Sarah felt her breath catch in her throat at the memory. One thing was certain; it had eased her craving for her drugs. But as the feeling of satisfaction waned she was left with the hollowness of shame.
‘Ruben,’ she said.
He looked at her and she saw the haunted grief of his expression.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘You have nothing to be sorry for,’ he said, sounding bereft. ‘It was my vow to break.’
Sarah struggled back into her clothes, and as he averted his eyes, her shame deepened. What’s the punishment for defiling one of God’s followers?
‘Death,’ said a voice from deep within her mind.
Sarah approached Ruben as he stood with his back to her. She reached out to him.
‘Don’t,’ he said.
She withdrew her hand. ‘What can I do?’
‘Forget this ever happened. I should never have come here. This place is cursed.’
Sarah once more glimpsed the red cross on the white tunic hidden beneath his brown robe. She glanced back at the fissure and the Anakim carvings within.
‘Cruce signatus,’ she said, making Ruben look at her.
An image from the past flashed before her mind’s eye: an image of the revived Anakim giant, drawing a triangle into the glistening gel that had been applied to its body.
Sarah touched her chest where her own cross resided beneath her clothing. ‘What did you say about the Anakim symbols, that they were like Egyptian writing?’
Ruben nodded, but Sarah was already striding towards the cave’s exit.
She stopped at the lip of the entrance and stared out at the plateau and the other mountains that dotted the flat, sandy coloured landscape.
‘It knew I would come here,’ she said to herself. ‘Somehow, it knew.’
‘Knew what?’ Ruben said, coming to stand by her side.
Sarah gazed out in disbelief at what she was seeing. She laughed.
‘Sarah, what is it? Knew what?
‘The giant on the train, before Konstantin killed it, it drew three shapes on its chest. A pentagon, a circle and a triangle.’
‘So?’
‘The pentagon must represent the pendant. The circle devices are the means by which to activate it. But the triangle, I had no idea.’ She shook her head. ‘Oh my God, I had no idea.’
Ruben moved to stand in front her. ‘You’ve solved it, haven’t you? You know where the other entrance is.’
‘No and yes.’
He looked confused. ‘What?’
‘I don’t know where the other entrance is, I may never know. But I know where there’s another, and it’s close. Very close.’
‘Where? Show me.’
She moved aside and pointed into the cave.
‘It’s just a cave. A dead end.’
‘A cave with a carved stela replete with Anakim inscriptions.’
Ruben remained nonplussed and Sarah laughed again. ‘Oh, my God, don’t you see? They were digging in the wrong place!’ She pointed back out across the plateau to the other mountains and then down to the dig site at the centre. ‘A central plaza where the city once stood, and around it mountains, all roughly the same size and shape, give or take a million years of erosion.’
‘Sarah, I still don’t—’
‘What did Avery say? The Golden Scroll, it called this place the Source of Egypt. What are the Egyptians famous for building?’
‘Pyra ...’ He shook his head. ‘No, that can’t be, they’re too big.’
‘Well over two thousand feet,’ Sarah said. ‘Maybe three thousand, when they were built.’ She gazed out at the terrain and wondered how she could have missed it. She wondered how anyone could have. ‘Hidden in plain sight for thousands of years, maybe a million years.’ Sarah held out her arms. ‘I give you the greatest structures ever built on the surface of the Earth,’ – the clouds parted and the sun glinted off the mountains opposite – ‘the Anakim pyramids of Mongolia.’
Chapter Two Hundred Six
The Vice President of the United States stood outside in the dark, in front of his official residence, Number One Observatory Circle, which was positioned in the grounds of the Naval Observatory. With a head of grey hair, which had gained him the moniker, ‘The Silver Fox’, and an athletic physique, the VP cut a striking figure to all who met him. His dream had been to rule his country, but as events had unfolded over the years that dream was never realised. At times his bitterness at failing to attain the presidency had clouded his judgement. Often, he’d taken his frustrations out on his family, particularly his wife, whom he hated with a passion. How one woman could make a man feel so small was a mystery to him. And yet despite putting her in her place with the occasional beating, she seemed determined to persist in her quest for independence. His sons were no different and he made sure they were carved in his image. No son of his would show weakness in the face of their enemies. He would rather they were dead. Free will, he thought, shaking his head, there should be a law against it.
A woman kissed his cheek and he smiled at his mistress. She, at least, knew how to treat a man: with the respect he deserved.
‘Marine Two will arrive shortly, Mr Vice President,’ said a Secret Service agent.
‘And they’re sure I’ll get there in time?’ He looked at his watch again.
‘Positi
ve, sir, the pilot says we’ll be landing at the surface entrance to USSB New York within the hour.’
‘What about lockdown?’
‘It’s as we’ve been told, sir. They have a special V.I.P. surface-to-interior elevator, waiting and prepped for your arrival.’
‘We’ll be the last ones out,’ the VP said, running his hand over his mistress’s pert derriere. He pinched her bottom, eliciting a squeal of delight. ‘You go get ready, my dear.’ He slapped her bum and she giggled, kissed him again, then went inside to get her suitcase.
The VP turned his gaze on the observatory, which he could just see lit up through the treeline. It had been only hours since John Henry had visited. It was thought the secret was out and various measures were put in readiness in case it was so. But, with the Secret Service doing a good job of cleaning up the mess, the crisis had been averted. It was a shame, though; he’d had his eye on the Observatory administrator. She was a sweet young thing and he’d been meaning to have his way with her. After all, few women found they could refuse him, and if they did, he just took what he wanted anyway. It was a privilege he’d earned. It was as his father had always taught him, work hard and take what’s owed. It had served his family well. They had wealth beyond most people’s wildest dreams.
The sound of an approaching aircraft made the VP look up. An advanced jump jet slowed its flight until it hovered over the front lawn, its navigation lights gleaming in the dark.
The small military troop carrier touched down a moment later and the VP boarded, along with his mistress and his Secret Service detail.
‘What about your wife?’ his mistress said, sitting down next to him in the rear seats.
‘What about her?’ He glowered at the house, where his wife remained asleep in bed, partly thanks to the large dose of sleeping tablets he’d slipped into her bedtime drink. ‘She had her chance and blew it.’ He squeezed the woman’s leg. ‘It’s your turn now.’
The pilot turned in his seat. ‘Are you set, Mr Vice President?’
The VP gave him the thumbs up. The pilot nodded, reached up to the roof and flicked some switches. ‘This is Marine Two, requesting clearance for take-off.’
‘Copy that, Marine Two. You have clear skies and are good to go.’
The whine of the jet engines grew louder and the VP settled back in his seat, feeling pleased with himself. At last, he thought. The new world, USSB New York, home of the brave.
The engines reached a crescendo, but before they lifted off, the VP glimpsed a shadowy figure sprinting across the lawn.
The cockpit door opened, a whoosh of wind engulfed the interior, and the co-pilot was dragged out.
The VP’s Secret Service agents swarmed out of the aircraft, with guns drawn.
Gunfire cracked out and the Vice President and his mistress cowered in their seats.
An agent’s body slammed into the side window and another screamed in pain.
‘Get us airborne!’ the VP shouted. ‘We’re under attack!’
The pilot restarted the take-off sequence, and the VP watched through the windshield as three Secret Service agents fired at an unseen assailant.
One of them went down, and then another.
‘HURRY!’ The VP said, as the third man fell.
The pilot drew his pistol as his door opened. He fired off six shots, but whatever he was shooting at kept coming and he was hauled out of the aircraft, his scream drowned out by the engines’ roar.
Scared out of her wits, the Vice President’s mistress opened the door, leapt out, and ran screaming back to the house, leaving her lover all alone.
The VP reached for a rifle clipped to a bulkhead and jumped down onto the grass. He cocked the weapon and walked round to the other side of the aircraft, where a soldier stood over one of his men with a gun.
The VP screamed in fury and unleashed his weapon.
Bullets ricocheted off the attacker’s armour and the VP realised his mistake. He backed away, still firing, then threw down the weapon and picked up a grenade dropped by one of his agents.
He pulled the pin, but as he did so an armoured hand grasped his wrist and he looked up into a pair of glowing green eyes.
‘Let it go,’ said a voice like gravel.
The VP shook his head. ‘I’ve removed the pin. It’ll kill us both.’
‘Wrong,’ said the soldier. ‘My armour’s shielded.’ He grasped the VP’s fingers and prised them off the grenade. The metal lever pinged off and the VP screamed and turned away.
A second later the grenade exploded, catapulting the Vice President across the lawn.
♦
The armoured Terra Force soldier climbed into the aircraft’s cockpit and prepared for flight.
‘It’s almost time,’ said the voice in his head.
The soldier reached up and flicked some switches. ‘I know.’
‘Are you ready?’
‘I am.’
‘Do you know what’s at stake?’
The soldier pulled back on the joystick and the jump jet lifted into the night sky. ‘Everything.’
Chapter Two Hundred Seven
The Vice President of the United Sates knelt on the ground, nursing the charred stump that had been his arm. Letting out a sob of agony, he stared up at his disappearing transportation and screamed, ‘THAT’S MY AIRCRAFT!’
A bedroom window in his house opened and a woman said, ‘Caleb, is that you?!’
The VP turned round and stared up at his wife. ‘Yes, yes! Call an ambulance!’
His wife held up a letter. ‘This says you’ve just left me for a younger, more beautiful woman and that you’re pleased you’ll never have to see my spiteful ugly face again. Do you know what, Caleb? You cruel fuck, the feeling’s mutual! Call it yourself!!’ The window slammed shut and the Vice President let out another sob of pain and started the long crawl towards the house.
Chapter Two Hundred Eight
John Henry paced the floor of Capitol Hill’s conference room as the delegates around him remained blissfully unaware of the looming cataclysm. Less than three hours, the hacker had said. Three hours! And that was over half an hour ago!!
He glanced over at his Secret Service detail, who continued to block all the exits. I’m being held prisoner by the people supposed to be protecting me.
Is it true, though? John asked himself, still struggling to believe it. Are you sure? How can I trust a terrorist?
You can’t, he thought. But I can feel it, I know it’s true!
Do you? said his inner voice. You thought you knew Ashley, but she’s cruel and cold. I love Ashley! And she loves Dante!
As if he’d sensed her presence, the door to the conference room opened and the First Lady entered unaccompanied.
Ashley walked over to him, her sultry walk drawing the eyes of some of the dignitaries, and the Chinese premier himself.
‘You wanted to see me?’ she said, looking around the room to make eye contact with those who desired her.
An image of her screaming in ecstasy popped into his head. He fought back his fury and grasped her arm. ‘Have you seen Paul?’
She tried to break free of his grip. ‘No, what’s wrong with you?’
He released her. ‘I need him here – NOW.’
‘What? Why? He’s probably helping Dante find the intruders.’
‘No, he was doing something for me.’
She gave him a look. ‘Didn’t you hear?’
‘Hear what?’ he said, distracted as he looked at the doors for signs of his Chief of Staff.
‘Two search teams are missing. They found blood trails, but no bodies. They’ve locked everything down and are sweeping the building with multiple teams, working as one. Dante says he’s never seen anything like it.
‘Dante said?’
‘Yes.’ Ashley looked at him. ‘Shouldn’t you be pleased? The GMRC have given you what you want.’
‘Pleased?’
‘John, your eyes are really wide, people are looking.’
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‘Let them look.’ John suddenly realised how he could find out, once and for all, if Bic had been telling the truth. He leant forward and whispered in Ashley’s ear, ‘I know.’
She stepped back. ‘Know what?’
He fixed his eyes on her. ‘About you and Dante.’
A flicker of fear crossed her features. ‘What? What are you talking about?’
‘I know you’ve been sleeping with him.’
‘What? Don’t be absurd.’ She looked around at those nearby in case they’d overheard.
John remembered the device the hacker had used to communicate with him. He collected it from the table and brandished it before her. ‘I have proof!’
Ashley glared at him and said through gritted teeth, ‘Keep your voice down.’
‘What? WHY?!’ He raised his hands. ‘Why should I keep my voice down?!’
Ashley took a step back as everyone in the room fell silent.
‘Is it because you don’t want anyone to know?!’ John searched through the device, but he couldn’t find the conversation he’d had with the hacker, nor the videos he’d been shown. ‘It has to be here,’ he said, flicking through the screens with more and more desperation. ‘It has to be.’
‘Problems, John?’ Ashley said, her tone condescending.
John continued his search in vain, but just as he was about to give up the device beeped and the video he was looking for displayed on screen, with a message underneath which read:
Looking for this, Mr President? _
John’s hope surged; he pressed the play button and held it up for Ashley to see.
Moans of ecstasy and sex-fuelled screams emanated into the room and Ashley’s face drained of colour.
‘You can’t deny it, can you?’ John said. ‘Can you?!’
Ashley said nothing as she continued to stare at the images, while others gathered at a distance to watch, their expressions a mixture of shock, outrage, and in some cases, amusement.
Ancient Origins: Books 4 - 6 (Ancient Origins Boxset Book 2) Page 108
