by Sean Salazar
“We heard,” Vance said.
Chris was visibly agitated as he hesitated a few seconds before asking, “This is the same bunch of masquerading guys that did those church massacres in Europe and the Middle East, isn’t it?”
Al knew that lying to a CIA therapist wouldn’t work and answered, “Yes, we believe they are connected, but you have to keep this quiet. The media hasn’t caught on yet.”
“The media will make the connection eventually,” Vance added. “But will probably pin this as a retaliatory attack.”
“This is bad,” Chris said. “This is going to lead to a full-scale religious war.”
At that moment, Al noticed that Dr. Zohar and the officer were gone. “Shit, where did she go?”
“You mean the doc that just left?” Chris asked.
“You know her?” Al asked, motioning for them to follow him outside the facility.
Once outside the main door, Chris responded, “Yeah, besides just casually bumping into her once in a while, she was in a class I taught about six months ago.” He paused a moment and continued, “I would guess that by now she should be finishing up her Ph.D.”
“In what exactly?” Al asked.
Chris thought about it for a moment and answered, “Not sure, but what is her involvement in this?”
“Don’t know yet,” Al replied.
“I remember now,” Chris suddenly said. “She was majoring in ancient languages or something like that. The old language department here is small, and that’s why I thought it was odd.”
“What’s odd about that?” Vance asked.
“Normally students at that level have taken my class or classes like it long ago.”
“Do your students know that you’re CIA?” Al asked.
“Absolutely not,” Chris answered, and then asked, “Why? You don’t think...?”
“Like you said,” Vance interrupted, “it was odd for a student at her level to take your class.”
Chris shook his head and said, “Okay, I get it. Give me about an hour and I will help tie up a couple loose ends. I’ll do a little snooping to find out why or who had her take my class.”
“It could be just a coincidence,” Al said, “but while you’re at it, see if you can quietly find out as much information about the organization that used that room you met us in. There is a missing doctor that the knights may have been looking for and from what Dr. Zohar said, had several meetings in there.”
“Yeah, I can do that. If nothing else, now I also want to know.”
Al nodded, “Good.” He wrote down his contact info and put Chris’s info into his PDA. “If you discover anything call me as soon as possible. If you can’t get ahold of me, contact Director Churchill immediately.”
Chris nodded. “Thanks, and if there is anything else, let me know how I can help.”
“Will do,” Vance said.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Washington, D.C.
“Got it,” Ed said loudly as he touched the screen. He then stretched out for the first time in over two hours as far as the interior of the armored car would allow. He moaned as his aching joints creaked.
Alex noticed him moving in pain and commented, “Truth be told, your bones are getting too old for these types of extended missions by at least ten decades.”
Ed leaned forward toward his screen and replied, “Yes, of course, bones, very funny.”
Natalie leaned back, clearly exhausted herself. “You found something?” she asked.
Ed cracked his knuckles, “I think so.”
She sat next to him. “Okay,” she leaned sideways to see the screen, “may I?”
Ed pointed at the screen, “This possibly may be a lead...”
“You mean an out-of-order lead,” Alex added.
“Well, yes,” Ed replied. “Now pay attention. Going with what we have, and deriving the age of the bones of, let’s say, over one hundred years, I began my primary search here on the east coast.”
“Oh,” she said, “what prompted you to look for a geographical location?”
He pushed over his handwritten notes and then touched the page, “Here.”
She looked at the notes and then at the screen and asked, “The two hills divided?”
“Yes,” Ed said, scrolling through several pages of satellite pictures. “I did a scan with satellite imagery of the entire east coast of the United States and Canada.” He then explained, “I came up with several locations that would fit the phrase two hills divided.”
Alex seemed surprised by his comment. He then leaned over also to get a better look at the screen. “So you convinced yourself that it’s a physical location?”
“Well, not entirely, but I decided it was a good place to start.”
Natalie nodded, “I like it.”
“The computer and I,” Ed continued, “examined over seventy possible locations once I told it what to look for. And,” he said, “once I narrowed it down a bit, I told the program to replace hills with valleys and vice versa and the number dropped to just over half.” He paused and pulled up another image on the screen. “Alex,” he said, “can you please take a look at this one?”
Alex glanced at it. After a few seconds, he asked, “What am I looking at?”
Ed pointed at the picture. “This satellite image here in the lower part of West Virginia caught my attention immediately.”
“I’m not following you. This is the hill you’re interested in?”
“Yes, because if you observe how the hills cross the valley and suddenly stop, and then continue as if...”
“It’s been divided,” Natalie answered for him. “Oh, I’m sorry for interrupting, but could it be that simple?”
“Sometimes it is,” Alex answered, looking more closely at the picture. “Typically when we find clues or hints of clues, mysteries, or even ancient writings, we almost always have to decipher their meanings and more often than not the answers are right in front of us.” He paused a moment and focused on Ed’s work, “Okay, I am following your rationale. So what was your next clue to focus on this mountain range?”
Ed tapped the screen’s lower section, “Now look at that.”
Alex leaned in to read it, “The town Gap Mills?”
Using a pencil as a pointer, Ed said, “If you look here, the hills are unusually divided—hence the name of the town, Gap Mills.” He then traced the pencil around the south side of the divided hills and continued, “Now look at this.”
Alex and Natalie both leaned in to see. Alex looked back up and said, “Hand me the writing on the bone stuff again.”
Ed handed it to him.
Alex read it, “A page between the Presbyterians and Methodists.” He glanced up at Ed and handed the page over to Natalie, and uttered, “Remarkable.”
She grabbed the page, looked it over, and responded with an excited “What?”
“How in the world did you find this,” Alex asked.
Ed laughed, “I more or less stumbled on it.”
“Yes, you said that,” Alex said. “But seriously, old boy, how did you find this?”
Ed reached back over and gently touched the page with the point of the pencil. “After I found a list of hills that more or less fit the description of being divided, I then cross-referenced each one with Presbyterian and Methodist churches. Lo and behold, I found a perfect match.”
“Ha,” Alex said with his eyes fixed on the page, “so you did stumble on it.”
He continued glancing down at the page and said, “A Presbyterian and a Methodist church right next to each other with a small cemetery between them that appears to be a page from a book.”
Natalie looked closely at the satellite image. “I’m sorry, I still don’t see what you two are talking about.”
“I can’t say for sure,” Ed said, “if it’s what we are searching for but it certainly looks like it.”
Alex moved over and said to Natalie, “Let me take a stab at it. If you look here,” he said, running his finger along the sc
reen, “there is an obvious row of two adjacent hills that run parallel to each other for many, many kilometers and stop right here.” He then ran his finger across the hills, “You see this road?”
“Yes.”
Alex then traced his finger, following the road around the gap in the hills, stopped over an image and asked, “Do you see this?”
“Yes, I guess,” she said, and then asked, “but what is it?”
Alex pulled the page over with Ed’s notes and read one of the phrases, “A page between the Presbyterians and Methodists.” He then explained, “I’m not sure if you are accustomed to viewing satellite images, but if you look closely you can see both of these small colonial-style structures.”
“Those are the two churches?” she asked.
“Yes, they are. Now if you look directly between them,” he touched the page, “this is a graveyard.”
“Oh crap,” she said excitedly. “I see it. The small graveyard is laid out just like an open book. It’s so obvious, with the small road bisecting it and the tombstones lined up like words. I feel embarrassed that I didn’t see it.”
Ed chimed in, “Do not feel embarrassed, I doubt the old Masons expected their clues to be solved from outer space.”
Alex leaned back, “Don’t get too excited yet. We still need to get someone over there to verify Ed’s theory. If not, then we can embarrass him.”
Ed glanced at Alex, smiled and nodded, “Which happens often.” He then quickly changed the subject, “The next message reading, ‘the tavnit is,’ is also puzzling, but seems to fit.”
“Tavnit?” Natalie inquired.
“Which I might speculate,” Ed continued his thought process, “possibly brings up what the Masons were attempting to hide.”
Natalie immediately perked up, “ What is it? ”
“Tavnit is a peculiar Hebrew word,” Alex explained, “commonly translated as a pattern in the Bible.”
Ed began entering something on the computer. “I first had to ask myself what tavnit could possibly mean here?” He paused a moment, contemplating, “I mean, why use the word tavnit?”
“Could be the pattern of the graveyard,” Alex said.
“No,” Ed said, “I think it’s something else.”
He looked up the word in their database and sat back, “I am going to conclude that the word tavnit is intended to mean pattern or plans of some sort.”
“You mentioned it’s a Biblical term,” Natalie asked.
Ed opened the bible, flipped to I Chronicles Chapter 28:19. “It says here that David gave his son Solomon the pattern, or tavnit of the temple with all its parts and chambers.”
“If I’m not mistaken,” Alex said, “the term could also mean image or form.”
“Impossible to say,” Ed replied. “If what those Masons were guarding is hidden somewhere in the vicinity of that cemetery, then the Brotherhood is or will be searching for it.”
“That may explain the second attack under D.C.,” Alex said. “They believe something is still down there.”
“What if they find out that what they are seeking is at the morgue?” Ed added.
Alex glanced at his watch. “We left the morgue and Dr. Hamilton two hours ago.” A concerned look came across his face, “And I don’t recall seeing any security there.”
That reality hit Ed like a brick. He hammered his fist against the metal ceiling and yelled out, “Driver!”
Ed’s yelling caught the driver off-guard and the armored vehicle swerved to a halt. He turned his head and answered, “Yes?”
Ed quickly changed seats to see him, “Get us back to the morgue as fast as you can. Call ahead and get armed men there now.”
“Yes sir,” he said as he took a sharp turn. “Hang on.”
Chapter Thirty
The armored car screeched to a stop and the three of them, along with the driver, jumped out. Ed eyed several police cars already parked in front of the main door with lights flashing. They quickly walked past the first car as two of the police officers were exiting the main door. The look on their faces said it all.
The driver stepped out in front, flashed his ID badge to the officers and said, “What happened?”
The officer glanced at the card and said, “You called this in?”
“Yes,” the driver answered and then asked, “What happened?”
“Got two bodies in there.”
“I have a dire feeling about this,” Ed said, exchanging glances with Alex. He then stepped up and asked, “May we take a look inside?”
“This is a crime scene,” the officer answered.
Ed stepped closer. “It is of the utmost importance that we take a quick look inside.”
The CIA driver stepped over and whispered to the officer.
The officer listened, nodded, and replied, “Okay fine, but only one of you; but you cannot enter the room.”
“Very well,” Ed said, “lead the way.”
The officer led him into the building and to the door. Yellow tape crossed the entrance into the lab room and what immediately came into view were the two female bodies lying on the floor. The blood-stained white lab coats sprawled about indicated that they might have been tortured. Ed’s eyes went from table to table and they were all empty. Every single skeleton was gone.
“That will be all,” Ed said.
Chapter Thirty-One
Georgia
Al slowed his pace halfway to the police cruiser and said in a low tone, “This is probably a good time to conclude that the knights attacked the university to get their hands on that scroll that Dr. Golb was working on.”
Vance was silent for a moment as they walked. He lit a cigarette. “I would definitely agree that was their main objective.” He went silent again and then stopped walking. “Do you want to know what I think?”
“What?”
“This whole scene seems suspicious. This attack happened at the same time Dr. Golb was unrolling the so-called scroll. How in the hell did the Brotherhood know this was going on?”
“You think there has to be a double-cross going on here?”
“There has to be,” Vance said, glancing over at Officer Shandra as she stepped out of the car. “Golb has gone running and Zohar is behaving like she has something to hide.”
Al noticed Officer Shandra and he held up his hand halting Vance’s comments. He could tell that she had something to report.
“While you two were inside,” she said, “Dr. Golb’s car was found abandoned near a warehouse.”
“How far is that?” Vance asked.
“Northeast, about three hours away.”
“Any sign of a struggle?” Al asked.
“I don’t know, it just came in.”
“Any other leads that we should know about?” Al asked.
“Right now,” she said, “I would say no because all the attention is on the Islamic center massacre.”
Al put his hands on the roof of the car. “We need to go see the Islamic center.”
“That’s fine,” she said. “I’ll take you there now.”
Within minutes, they were approaching the immediate vicinity of the massacre. Police cruisers, camera crews, and crowds of onlookers were everywhere. Once the car stopped, the three of them climbed out and headed in the direction of the Islamic center.
Al noticed more and more news crews in the immediate area but more disturbing were multiple groups of people dressed in traditional Islamic clothing apparently on a warpath. Several, mainly women, were yelling at the police and shaking their fists in the air. “Not good,” Al said.
“This can get really bad,” Vance replied.
“What would you like to do here?” Officer Shandra asked, concerned.
“Whatever we do we need to tread lightly,” Al responded. He then noticed another group of Muslims approaching from the east.
Vance noticed them too and slowly responded, “Yep.”
“This looks like the beginning of a riot,” Al said.
&nb
sp; “How do you know that?” Shandra asked.
“I spent many years in the Middle East during good times and bad times,” Al said, “and when times are bad riots can occur out of nowhere.”
“And this,” Vance said casually looking around, “is going to be one.”
“Should we do anything?” she asked.
“Maybe just let your department know to be ready,” Al said. “What happened here was a travesty so emotions are going to run high.” He then eyed the building, “Can we go inside?”
“Yes,” she said. “Follow me.”
Al tried not to look any of the people in the eye and kept his head partially down as they entered the main door. The last thing he wanted was to have some of the anger directed at them. They made their way towards the crime scene and Al noticed a section of blood-stained carpet a few feet from the auditorium doors. Crime scene tape had the section of carpet blocked off but it was clear that the blood trail came from the main room. Al led the way into the auditorium and stepped to the side between the first two rows of seats. The room had scant lighting, a small stage, and two aisles with rows of seats in between.
Dozens of small markers had been placed where spent shell casings lay. There were so many of them that the three of them were prevented from going down the aisle so Al stayed where he was. He could see where the carnage took place—not only from the blood-soaked theater seats but the fact that the seats had been chewed to pieces by the bullets.
Officer Shandra spoke up, “The knights entered through the main doors and filed down both sides of the auditorium, trapping the students in the center, and began firing.”
“They didn’t stand a chance.” Vance shook his head.
“There was one survivor,” she added.
“A survivor or a witness?” Vance asked.
“Two students were entering and witnessed a huge knight walk out of the auditorium and exit through a side door on the north side of the building.”
“That’s what they do,” Al said.
“Oh?”
“If this is who we think it is,” Vance said, “they always leave one or two people behind to tell the story.”
“What do you mean by always?” she asked.
