The Alboran Codex

by J C Ryan

  The analyst who’d questioned Carter’s thought process took up the flag. “That sounds about right, especially in light of the passages where Algosaibi states his dissatisfaction with the Council’s hands-off policy with regard to Middle Eastern politics and any form of religion. That would keep them under the radar unless and until they made a move.”

  “Here’s something else,” said a woman halfway around the vast table from Carter. He cocked his head to better hear her. Noticing it, she raised her voice. “From what I can see, it’s pretty much this tight group, this council of 12 members, who have run the organization from the beginning, under threat of death if they reveal the secrets. They could have thousands of operatives around the world, but all it would take is a buffer of several contacts between the principals of the organization and the people who are doing the work, but have no idea who they’re working for. Or even, for that matter, what their little tasks might accomplish when part of a whole. Probably the business end of the organization is so disseminated that the big picture is impossible to see.”

  Carter nodded. “That makes sense.”

  Bill tapped his water glass with his spoon to call everyone’s attention back to him, as low-volume conversations had broken out all around the table. “So, to summarize, what we have determined so far, although it’s unverified as yet, is that it’s highly probable these Nabateans have infiltrated not only finance and technology interests, but likely governments across the globe. Perhaps to the extent that they’re in a position to give orders to those governments. Moreover, it’s potentially true that our own government is among those they have the means to control.”

  Carter, who had continued to pull together threads of information, some of which was unknown to most of the participants, was suddenly convinced beyond all doubt. “Yep, that’s about the size of it,” he said, staring over the heads of the people across from him as he drew his own conclusions, unconscious he was stating them aloud. “This Council of the Covenant of Nabatea is not unlike any dictatorship or totalitarian government or organization under the guise of religion, be it Nazi, fascist, communist, or even Muslim. It exists for one purpose and one purpose only — to amass power so they can control world events for their own advantage. What may have begun as a noble enterprise eventually succumbed to human nature. They must be stopped.”

  One by one, the analysts began to applaud. Soon, the applause broke through Carter’s daze of rumination.

  “My boy, you’ve hit the proverbial nail right on the head,” Bill said. “Now let’s go repeat that to the President.”

  Bill would have been appalled had he known his elaborate precautions for secrecy had done no good at all. All the technology in the world couldn’t make up for one mole on the team.

  Chapter 43 -

  The biggest crisis

  It was midnight in Paris, not all that late in some quarters, as locals ventured back to their favorite haunts for the night life after the terrorist attacks of the previous year. Despite the time differences and the distances that separated them, Graziella Nabati waited for each member of the council to check in. This was a mandatory meeting, and it wouldn’t begin until they were all present.

  There was no chatter and no friendly banter between council members as, one by one, they all made their presence known. Beijing, Geneva, Washington DC, London, Moscow, New Delhi, Paris, Riyadh, Shanghai, Syria, Tehran, and Tokyo. For some, the meeting was taking place in the dead of night, appropriately for its content. For others, it was midday, the juxtaposition of the somber mood not at all in keeping with the sunlight streaming in their respective windows.

  Though most of them didn’t yet know what was wrong, it was the second emergency meeting within a week. Something was clearly wrong. Graziella wasted no time in getting to the point. After the opening ritual, she skipped the usual welcome and greetings, her agitation plain for all to see over their secure links.

  “We have a serious problem. One of our operators in America has sent a message about a top-secret meeting held just five hours ago, this afternoon in Washington, DC. Such elaborate precautions of secrecy were taken that our operative was lucky to have been included in the planning; otherwise we would not have the recording of the meeting. However, he was able to place several sophisticated bugs in the meeting place, so we have a complete recording of the proceedings.

  “Please bear with me while I play that recording. It will explain everything.”

  Not a reply or cough was heard as she clicked the icon with her mouse. No question was raised as each member of the council listened with growing apprehension to the clip in its entirety. The first part they already knew; Durand had obtained the laptop and flash drive with which their former colleague Algosaibi had betrayed them and their ancient secrets.

  The shock was that Durand had gone to the American CIA and traded the information on them for his life and protection. The CIA now knew everything — all their secrets, of their assassination of Algosaibi’s children, and of their mission and goals. The Council’s biggest threat to existence — the CIA — now knew something about the advanced technology the Nabateans had, along with the extent of their influence. Most alarming, they knew the names of the leader of the group and her son, Graziella and Mathieu Nabati, and disturbingly much about the location of their headquarters.

  The meeting at hand was to determine what to do about it. But Graziella wanted to talk about the future of the council first.

  “This has come about because we didn’t take effective and immediate action against Xavier Algosaibi when he insisted on following a political religious agenda. I warned you at the time that he should be sanctioned.

  “The principles of our Council have always been to steer clear of politics and religion. The famous American author, Mark Twain, said ‘I am quite sure now that often, very often, in matters concerning religion and politics a man's reasoning powers are not above the monkey's.’ This proves it. By his stubborn meddling in matters that don’t concern us, Algosaibi has brought us to the brink of disaster, and although he has paid the ultimate price for it, he also set in motion this catastrophe. Before we do anything else, we must be certain it never happens again.”

  Graziella’s solution was that the very moment any council member stepped out of line again, he or she would be terminated without warning. The Council members immediately acceded in unison. Not a few of the members silently gulped as they remembered voicing political opinions about the status of their ancient homeland in Jordan, but they all assented anyway. Assuming the Council survived this crisis, they would all be under threat of death if they developed agendas like that of Algosaibi.

  Naturally, it was decided, again without dissent, also to spare no effort to locate and eliminate Durand. Even if he was no longer in possession of their secrets, he knew them. He and everyone else who came into that knowledge would be summarily dealt with, until the last fading echo of a rumor about it was silenced.

  Only then came the discussion of what they should do about their immediate danger. Graziella and Mathieu of course had to disappear, and with them every trace of records of the Council located in the catacombs below Graziella’s residence. The others weren’t certain their identities had been compromised, but those two knew everyone, not only their public personas, but also who they really were. They could not afford to be interrogated.

  Briefly, they considered making their move for world domination immediately. They had achieved a superior position regarding power and influence. They had access to advanced technology in the fields of computing, energy, and medicine. If they wanted to move, albeit prematurely, they could probably succeed.

  There was no question they could collapse the Internet and satellite communications worldwide. They could probably collapse or control most if not all world stock exchanges and money markets. They’d long since mastered a way to predict, with their über-powerful quantum computers, the appearance of an unlikely correlation and had grown exceedingly wealthy on that
knowledge. They could probably use it now to create chaos in the markets, for a short time anyway, before the regulatory agencies shut them down.

  Or, they could flex their muscles and use the evidence of their superiority to form alliances with existing governments, although that idea didn’t float long because of their aversion to politics. And because they would likely have to trade their exclusive knowledge for the protection. In the end, they decided the chance of failure meant they could not move before the fullness of their plan was in place. It was best to fade into the background, as they’d done so many centuries before, and protect all of it so they could use it when the time was right.

  It was just as in the old days, when the ancient Nabateans had withdrawn from conflict and survived on so many occasions in their past. And just like they did the last time, in 106 AD, when they quietly ceded their empire to the Romans, they would lie low, suspend activities, and bide their time. The American Secretary of the Treasury who resided in Washington, DC, pointed out that he was in the very bosom of the enemy. He’d have to disappear, too, but in a way, that didn’t excite speculation. If it became known he’d been a member of the council, everything he’d touched in a long and illustrious career in the capital city would be brought under suspicion. Discovery of only some of it would dismantle a significant portion of their network and cripple them.

  Again, the decision was made without discord.

  There was one agenda item remaining, and that was the most important of all.

  It hadn’t escaped the attention of anyone on the Council, least of all Graziella, that the most accurate assumptions being made in that meeting were those of someone whose research focus they knew well. Carter Devereux.

  Ever since he’d gained credibility with the discoveries of the ancient city in Peru, outside Cusco, and then the City of Lights in the Egyptian desert, the man had been a thorn in their sides. They knew, through their spy networks, about all his top-secret research. They knew he was in possession of the library of the giants, and their most coveted goal was to get their hands on it.

  Only the Council had known for all those centuries that there was a record somewhere of technology so advanced it put even theirs to shame. And then in one stroke of luck, Devereux had found it before they could put someone in place in the dig to retrieve it once the city had been located. Worse, he had defied every rule of honest archaeology by removing the precious artifacts that comprised the library from their environment! It went against his nature, so they hadn’t expected it and were not prepared for it.

  They knew his reasoning, because they’d listened to him talk it out with James Rhodes many times. He still felt guilty for it, though he knew taking it was the only way to keep the ancient knowledge of nuclear fusion technology out of the hands of terrorists and fanatics like Algosaibi.

  Over the last few weeks they learned that Devereux had in his hands everything they themselves had been hunting for, for nearly two millennia; greater advances in quantum physics, zero-point energy, medical technology, and more.

  And to crown it all, now he was aware of their existence, as well. And he’d predicted with deadly accuracy the threat their goals represented for his country and indeed the rest of the world. The only hope they had of fulfilling those goals was to get their hands on Devereux and that library. Or, in fact, they didn’t even need him. They had their own brilliant scientists and translators. All they needed was the library, and they’d stop at nothing to get it. Even if it meant killing him and his family and anyone else who dared to stand in their way.

  Aside from disappearing and sweeping their tracks behind them, it was their top priority. Durand had forced their hands—they had to get that library immediately and no cost or effort would be spared.

  Chapter 44 -

  Counter measures

  Even though they didn’t know their summit meeting had been compromised, the revelations about the Nabateans and what they were capable of gave everyone the jitters. Especially Bill, James, and Sean. The three of them agreed they had to take drastic measures to safeguard their communications, as well as the translation efforts and the research the Devereuxs were doing.

  After studying the facts, there was only one way to secure those things. Everything important had to be taken offline. Even with the most sophisticated anti-hacking security known to them, the Internet was still a huge threat. Since they’d reluctantly conceded the Nabateans had superior snooping technology, they couldn’t afford to connect anything sensitive to that vast labyrinth of secret and not-secret connections. Who knew? Some people speculated that “the Internet” was some semi-sentient entity on the verge of becoming self-aware. Maybe they were right. Stranger revelations had been proven to them that very week.

  So, no device containing sensitive information could be connected to the Internet for even a fraction of a second, the wireless network features on those devices were disabled. Furthermore, all electronic means of communications, even secured and encrypted cell phones, were off-limits. No written records, whether electronic or the old-fashioned paper kind, were allowed. Everyone’s memories, except Carter’s of course, would be taxed to the limit.

  James remarked, “Carter is the only one who won’t have a problem with these new measures. His brain is already a mass-storage device.”

  They all had a good laugh at Carter’s expense, but when the decree was implemented, he was the one with the last laugh.

  When the Executive Advantage leadership considered the safety of the primary people involved in the translation or research, Sean’s assessment was they couldn’t keep them safe and happy both anywhere near Washington, DC, and that included Boston. It was either lock them in a concrete vault, or take them to a remote location whose perimeter could be secured.

  Faced with this assessment, Carter brightened. “Of course! What better location than Freydís?”

  “We have to assume they know about Freydís,” Bill countered. James and Sean exchanged looks. They had a feeling Bill was about to have his ass handed to him, and Carter didn’t disappoint.

  “We have to assume they know everything about everyone and every place,” he began hotly. “Freydís can be secured. Sean’s outfit has their training camp there, and every precaution to keep it secret and camouflaged has been taken. I have the financial means to provide whatever other buildings we need, and don’t forget Mackenzie's freaky clairvoyant wolves to warn us of trouble. I insist.”

  The stubborn set of his jaw convinced even Bill that any further argument would be futile. “All right, you win. But you have to let us help your security team prepare.”

  “Not a problem.” Carter didn’t bother to say so, but he’d been missing the daily training he and Mackie were doing with the commandos before they’d left for the States for the translation effort. Mackie had told him on the phone that she missed their home, too, despite enjoying her visit with her parents. He’d have to think about whether Mackie’s parents were in any danger from the Council. If so, they’d better think about bringing his “outlaws” to Freydís as well.

  Once the decision on the location was made, it didn’t take long for James and Sean’s team in the person of Dylan to determine that Liu, Rick, and Samantha were critical to the translation and should be moved there as well. Dylan was over the moon. To be full-time on Freydís, and Liu with him? Don’t throw me in the briar patch, Brer Fox!

  In fact, before the previous plan had been interrupted by the need to take the translation project to the States, work had already begun on a nice little cabin for Dylan and Liu at Camp Tala. The finishing touches were just now being added.

  The move was made in stages, as the work couldn’t be interrupted to get all the plans in place. With the bulk of the coding on the translation software done, Rick and Samantha were detailed to Freydís to oversee the planning of an addition to the main homestead to accommodate a server room with temperature and humidity control, along with a couple of secure rooms for the research projects. Fiber opt
ic cable would be utilized to network everything, so the more insecure wireless technology wouldn’t create a vulnerability to snooping.

  Carter arranged for prefabricated offices to be flown out. All the planned facilities would be housed in them and become the translation center. Dylan’s team of trainees would place both physical and electronic security devices to protect the outbuildings, all hooked up to Camp Tala’s electronic guard system.

  He also approached Mackenzie about the idea he couldn’t shake — that leaving her parents and brother unprotected was as good as an invitation to the Council to take them hostage and force one or both to give up their secrets.

  Her eyes went wide. “Do you really think that?”

  “Mackie, I would never joke about such a thing. I think we need to persuade them to move to Freydís with us. At least until we have the Nabateans neutralized. The only problem I see—”

  “—is that we’ve invited them before and they refused,” she completed for him. It was true. Her parents had both recently retired, and before the extended visit occasioned by Carter’s need to be focused on the translation project, she had begged her parents to join them on Freydís. They hadn’t thought long enough, in her opinion, before reluctantly turning her down. It was too isolated, they’d claimed. And although they’d love to be around Liam and Beth more, they felt they’d miss their friends.

  “We’ll have to clue them in on why we’re insisting,” Carter said. “But it’s imperative. And your brother needs to come, too.”

  “What about his job?”

  Ray Anderson, a horticulturist, was Mackenzie’s younger brother. He’d spent most of his twenties “finding himself”, and it had been a relief to Mackenzie’s parents when he settled down to a career. She was worried that uprooting him from his job would send him drifting again, professionally anyway. She wasn’t at all sure even Carter’s powers of persuasion would be enough to convince them or her brother.