Everyone clapped. John Bartholomew and Sir William Merton were calling "Here, here."
"We'll then help the European Union to open liberal trade negotiations with South America, Canada, Asia, India, and the African countries," Mendez continued. "They will turn to the EU for support. Nations around the world will begin to kiss up to Europe. At the same time we will tighten restrictions on American goods. The U.S. manufacturers will have to lay off people due to international boycotts. Unemployment demands and welfare checks will begin to drain the American coffers. Retail spending will decrease as the unemployed have to use all of their money just to survive. More people will be laid off in a vicious cycle of no demand and no supply. The citizens will become restless and hostile toward their own democratic government. In some places we will attempt to help create civil unrest. For example, well plant rumors that layoffs are being caused because of race and religious convictions. It will be chaotic."
"It sounds very good so far," Viorica Enesco said, smiling. "Now for phase four. This plan is to create medical emergencies. We are funding sleeper cells within the
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United States. At a given point they will release a smallpox epidemic. This will tie up medical personnel and many dollars. Other sleeper cells will send anthrax packages to local, state, and federal government leaders... even in small to medium-size communities. It will create pandemonium! This will tie up police, security, and emergency services all over America. More energy and money will be spent. Then, when the crisis seems to reach its peak, our remaining sleeper cells will bomb key larger hospitals. The Americans have a weakness for caring for the sick and needy. They will rally to their aid and will begin to pull in all their resources to protect their own."
"Isn't this wonderful?" Jakoba Werner said, shifting her weight in her chair and sitting forward. "In phase five, to weaken the U.S. stock market, we will then have the Arab sheikhs begin to move their money out of the U.S. market into the European Union. This will help strengthen the euro and weaken the U.S. dollar. We will tell large foreign stockholders to buy stocks on margin and inflate the market with a false upward trend. People will invest and then we'll have them fail to pay on the margin, causing a drop. We will attempt to cause some quick upward and then downward moves in the market. Investors will become nervous and stop investing. After this happens several times, Americans will begin to look at investing in the more stable European markets. More money will drain out of the United States. We may not be able to collapse the market, but we can greatly weaken it."
"Very good," John Bartholomew said enthusiastically.
Werner continued, "We will infuse money into the
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Americans' next presidential election. Our plan is to support those candidates who are more liberal and socialistic in their thinking. Once they are in office and world political pressure mounts, they will cave in to the demands of other countries. They will want to be accepted in the global community, not hated. They will seek peace at any cost. Their independence will decrease as they conform to the flow of the coming worldwide society of man."
Everyone turned and looked at General Li, who nodded. "Phase six is unique. It is called the fire plan. With the threats of war, nuclear proliferation, terrorist bombings, boycotting of U.S. trade, the increase in oil prices, the weakening of Wall Street, and medical emergencies-all of America's resources will be stretched to a breaking point. Certain sleeper cells will then start actual fires, beginning near large metropolitan areas. The first priority in firefighting is to protect people, then structures, then forests. As the fires rage in the cities, other sleeper cells will start forest fires near power plants, in the hope of shutting down large power grids. Then they will start fires in the forests surrounding dams. The plan is to cause erosion problems, which will lead to increased runoff, mudslides, and flooding. Hopefully this will damage crops, structures, and transportation."
Everyone nodded in agreement. The plan sounded wonderful to them.
"The U.S. has already been drained financially with the war in Iraq, tornadoes, hurricanes, and flood relief in its own country. They have been helping in relief efforts in Afghanistan and Turkey, and for the tidal wave victims.
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The weakening of the U.S. economy will affect the entire world. It will strengthen the European economy, and that is exactly what is needed. The only way to conquer a great country like the United States is by dividing it. If we can get it to fight on many fronts, the Americans will finally give up dealing with the rest of the world and will draw in to protect their own. They will become so weak as to no longer be a threat. Especially in the one place we have not yet mentioned: Israel. If we can get the U.S. to cut off aid to Israel, we can destroy and finally eliminate that canker from the face of the earth. The world will be in turmoil and will be crying for a world leader to step in and take control."
Sir William Merton was nodding vigorously. He looked a little warm in his clerical collar. "The seventh phase is to begin the religious movement," he explained. "When the world is in a desperate financial condition, the people will turn to religion for support. Remember, 'religion is the opiate of the masses.' We will begin funding various religious leaders and also begin to call for all faiths to unite. We will push for the universal brotherhood of man. We will support and encourage the homosexual community. Those who oppose them will be ridiculed, threatened, and punished. We can do this by instituting legislation that will take away critical tax advantages for churches and religious organizations. Any who oppose our plan can be accused of hate speech and jailed for nonconformity. That will squelch any opposition. We'll establish a new world religion that will have vast influence over the people." His eyes glowed as he spoke.
John Bartholomew cleared his throat and spoke.
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"Some parts of these plans are already in place and operating effectively. The rest will come into being soon. So far our plan is coming together. If Talon can carry out his assignments, I believe we will be right on schedule. I think this calls for a toast."
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THIRTY-ONE
MURPHY LOOKED UP at Isis as she read, studying her for a moment. There was no question that she was beautiful. Her sparkling green eyes and red hair were striking, but there was more. She was smart, well-read, and could hold her own in almost any conversation. She was fun to be with and was not afraid to try things that were new and different. She was independent and yet at the same time seemed to need his strength. He felt a strong desire to protect her. He knew that he was beginning to recover from Laura's death. He could sense a new love growing, and it felt comfortable ... and good.
Isis looked up and their eyes met. She smiled, and he fought the urge to reach out and embrace her. After a moment she lowered her eyes and began to read again. Murphy took a deep breath and opened a new folder.
As he picked the folder up, he noticed something about the journal he had just placed on the table. A piece of paper seemed to be sticking out in back. Murphy
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picked up the journal again and pulled what turned out to be two pages together. On one was a genealogy of the child Dr. Anderson and his partner had helped to create.
"Look at these!" Murphy exclaimed.
"It seems that Dr. Anderson has done some of the work for us already. Let's see what we can find about these people."
Murphy continued, "Anderson writes that Carmine Anguis, the father of the birth mother, was a Gypsy chieftain from the Rom tribe. They are well-known for fortune-telling. I've heard that some of their members built homes that looked like churches. They would then beg on the street--by showing them pictures of the outside of what looked like a cathedral. They would ask them to help build their church. It was really their home. That scam is still happening today. I've seen many of those types of homes in Romania."
"It sounds like a play on people's emotions. Does it say anything about the mother, Kala Matrinka?"
"Dr. Anderson suggests
that she may have been a prostitute before becoming Carmine's wife."
"What about Alfred Meinrad?"
"He was a scientist and had a Ph.D. in astrophysics and a second Ph.D. in microbiology. He was a very outspoken atheist and evolutionist. I don't believe he ever married. According to newspaper reports, he was killed in a mysterious automobile accident. He was driving in the mountains when all of a sudden he veered off the road and down into a canyon. Does that scenario sound familiar?"
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"That's just what happened to Dr. Talpish!" Isis exclaimed thoughtfully. "Michael, you asked me how Madame Blavatsky, Annie Besant, and Alice Ann Bailey tied together with Dr. Anderson. I think I've found it. Look at the genealogy of the Boy. Zigana Averna was the great-grandmother of Keres Mazikeen. Zigana worked as an assistant for all three of the women. First for Blavatsky, then Besant, and finally Bailey. She died sometime in the early 1940s. She was the mother of an illegitimate child named Mariana Yakov. The father's name was Ivan Yakov from Stalingrad. Ivan Yakov was later imprisoned for murder. Mariana Yakov became a prostitute until her mid-thirties, when she married Aaron Mazikeen. Dr. Anderson indicated that he was a drug smuggler and was shot to death in Istanbul. Mariana Yakov gave birth to a girl named Keres Mazikeen. Later Yakov, an alcoholic, died. Mazikeen provided the egg for the Boy. Alfred Meinrad provided the sperm. Calinda Anguis was merely the host body that gave birth to the fertilized egg."
"Wow!" said Murphy. "Dr. Anderson really had to do some investigating to discover all that."
"Yes," Isis agreed. "He goes on to say that Zigana was an expert in table rapping, séances, fortune-telling, and channeling of spirits. She even exceeded Blavatsky in her ability to do signs and wonders. She became a devil worshipper and excelled in corruption of every sort."
"I don't think I would want her babysitting the grandchildren."
"Michael, Michael! Listen!" Isis exclaimed, reviewing the genealogy. "You know that I can read and speak many languages."
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"Sure. I know that."
"Look at these names. Zigana Averna: Zigana is Hungarian for 'gypsy,' and Averna is Latin for 'queen of the underworld.'
"Mariana Yakov : Mariana is Russian for 'rebellious,' and Yakov is Russian for 'supplanted'--one who takes the place of another.
"Keres Mazikeen: Keres is Greek for 'evil spirits,' and Mazikeen is Jewish for 'elflike beings that can change shapes.'
"Alfred Meinrad: Alfred is Italian for 'counselor to the elves,' and Meinrad is German for 'strong advisor.'
"Carmine Anguis: Carmine is Latin for 'crimson,' and Anguis is Latin for 'dragon.'
"Kola Matrinka: Kala is Egyptian for 'black,' and Matrinka is Egyptian for 'divine mother.'
"And finally Calinda Anguis: Calinda is Latin for 'fiery,' and Anguis is Latin for 'dragon.'
"There's something really spooky about all of this," Isis said softly. "Michael, what do you think the other piece of paper means?"
Murphy looked at the page headed "New Age Movement." "My guess is that Dr. Anderson did some further investigation," he said thoughtfully. "In the Bible, Nimrod was considered the father of all cults against God. He is given credit for instigating the Tower of Babel as a rebellion against God. The various ancient mystery religions came from him. Those gave rise to Kabbalism--something you are hearing about in the news today-Gnosticism, and then the secret societies like Knights Templar, Rosicrucians, Free Masons, and the Illuminati.
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Anderson must have started with Madame Blavatsky and the Theosophical Society and traced its origins back to Nimrod. No wonder he was feeling guilty and wanted to rectify his errors."
"It sort of sounds like the story of Judas and how he felt remorse for being a traitor to Christ. See, I do know a little about the Bible," Isis said with a smile.
"You're right, Isis. It reminds me of a short poem:
"Still as of old
Men by themselves are priced.
For thirty pieces Judas
sold Himself not Christ."
"Michael, this is becoming very scary."
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THIRTY-TWO
RASHAD ENTERED the great hall and paused for a moment as he stroked his beard. A thorough search of so large a building would take some time. He walked over to the card catalog and pretended to be looking up something.
A few minutes later Asim strolled through the doors. He went to the magazine rack, selected one, and then sat down at an empty table. He opened the magazine and held it as if reading. However, his eyes were not focused on the pages; he was looking beyond.
The next to enter was Fadil. No casual observer would have paid any attention to the first two Arabs. They acted quite normal. Fadil, on the other hand, stood out--not his tall thin body, but his nervous mannerisms. He seemed anxious and his body made quick jerking movements. His eyes darted back and forth, and perspiration sheened on his forehead and stained his shirt. He made his way to a bookcase and quickly pulled down a
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book. He didn't even look at it. He just held it as his eyes searched the room.
Alvena Smidt was deeply engrossed in looking up the difference between "quiddity" and "quidnunc" in the dictionary when she heard a voice.
"Excuse me, madame. But could you assist me?"
At the sound of the voice her eyes brightened. She looked into the face of a light-skinned man with a neatly trimmed mustache, wearing a topcoat and gloves. He was tall and wiry-looking. His emotionless eyes were the type that would make most people shiver. But not Alvena Smidt.
"Don't say another word," she exclaimed. "Let me guess. You're from Cape Town, and you speak Afrikaans."
"You are correct," Talon said, surprised. "How did you know that?"
Smidt took off her glasses and stood up. She adjusted her blue polka-dot dress and approached the counter, smiling broadly.
"I knew it. I just knew it! I was born and raised in Cape Town myself. My parents came from a line of Dutch traders that go back to the 1700s. I can always tell someone who is from South Africa. I guess it's the combination of English and Dutch tones in their voice. At home my parents only spoke Afrikaans, and your voice is much like my father's. It is so good to hear someone from home. I moved to the States after college and have been here ever since."
"That is all very nice, but I was wondering if you could help me."
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"Oh, yes. I'd be glad to. Are you needing to look up some book or article? You look like the type of man who loves to read. I bet that you love the classics, don't you? I like classical music. It's so stimulating. Do you--"
He interrupted. "I'm looking for some friends of mine. A man and a woman. They are--"
"Are they from South Africa too? I'd love to meet them. I wonder if they might know any of my family"
"No, they're not from South Africa!" he said firmly. "The man is about my height, six foot three, rugged-looking. The woman is a redhead. Have they been in here?"
"Oh, yes. Who could miss that beautiful woman with the red hair? She looked like a model. Is she a model? And the man with her was so handsome. They made such a striking couple. I thought to myself, now, there's a happy couple. I wonder how many children they have. I just love children. Don't you?"
"Are they still here?" he said through gritted teeth.
"I don't know. But if they are, bring them back to the counter. I'd love to meet them."
"I appreciate your assistance. You're quite solicitous."
Smidt smiled and blushed at the same time. It was not often that she met someone who was polite and knew how to use the English language. Most people would have only said "Thanks for your help." That was okay, but it was so common. She watched him walk away. It's such a joy to have a conversation with someone who is educated ... and from South Africa too.
She continued to watch him as he went over to the short man with the dark mustache at the card catalog. Two other Arab-looking men joined
them.
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He must be a diplomat or something. I wonder if he speaks Arabic also.
Smidt was about to put her glasses back on when she saw the man look back at her, smiling and nodding. She flushed. He was not only educated, he was good-looking too ... and she had been lonely for quite some time.
"Michael, I'll be back in a moment," Isis said, rising. "I need to use the ladies' room."
As he watched Isis walk away, Murphy realized that Dr. Anderson's notes might help them discover more clues as to who the Anti-Christ might be. He knew that if what they were reading was true, they probably were in real danger.
Whoever the Friends of the New World Order are, it's certain that they are powerful and have an evil plan. They succeeded in killing Dr. Anderson. Will we be next? Murphy wondered.
Smiling to herself, Isis turned and looked back at Murphy as she walked off in search of the restroom. When he's focused on something, it would take an earthquake to get his attention.
After passing row after row of bookshelves, she found a sign saying that the restroom was on the second floor. She did not look down into the great hall as she descended one flight. She didn't see the Arabs talking... nor did she notice Talon.
"Rashad, you and Fadil search the right side of the main floor. Asim and I will search the left side. If you find
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them, do not approach. Pretend that you are just ordinary people in the library. One of you stay in the area and the other come and get me. We will move up one floor at a time. Asim and I will use the elevator as we go up; you two use the stairs. That way they will not get by us."