A Pale Horse

  “The Nephilim are hybrids, the result of a deliberate genetic experiment thousands of years ago. The result of intercourse between the physical, corporeal manifestation of the fallen angelic host and the ‘daughters of the Race of Men’—women living at the time of the great flood.

  “In Greek mythology, they were known as Titans. In Rome, demigods. The Fallen’s aim, quite simply, was to contaminate our human gene pool, mutate our DNA. The great flood, referred to in the tales of Noah and Gilgamesh, quite literally cleansed their lineage from the earth. But their spirits still roamed the earth, seeking embodiment.”

  Nick held out his hand to Lawrence, who passed him a steel canister that was connected to a small monitor at his right hand. “There is evidence, not in the public domain, that the fallen angels’ banishment led to a definitive change in the basic structure of their DNA,” Nick explained “The addition of what we term a ‘Luciferian gene’—a gene that is found only in the Fallen. A gene our scientists identified in all twenty-two of the Nephilim housed here in our archaeological crypts.”

  Nick plunged the steel canister into a vat of liquid that seemed to be emitting small flashes of electricity.

  Jason watched as Nick held the canister to the creature’s neck and pressed a flashing red switch, releasing a thick needle that plunged directly into the creature’s neck.

  The monitor readings flew into the red.

  Nick pulled the needle out of the fleshy neck. “It takes a few minutes to work. Brace yourself.”

  They watched in silence as suddenly, the creature’s huge manacled arms thrashed about wildly.

  “It can’t be!” Jason gasped.

  “Wait.”

  The creature’s top layer of flesh started to smolder, then burn until the entire expanse of its flesh was blistering. Jason watched the creature flailing around, his expression a mixture of absolute terror and fascination.

  The creature’s skeleton began to disintegrate before their eyes.

  A horrifying scream reverberated around the chamber. Then complete silence.

  Lying on the operating table was only a handful of what looked like dust.

  “You’ve destroyed it!” Jason uttered in horror.

  Nick pulled off his gloves and threw them in the incinerator. “We’ve destroyed all twenty-two.” Nick nodded to two monks who stood in the doorway, and they entered the chamber. The steel doors shut behind them.

  Nick followed Jason and Lawrence out of the crypts. They retraced their steps back into the corridor, then turned into the vast underground monastery archives. As they turned a corner, the scent of myrrh cascaded through the corridor.

  “We discovered the twenty-two Nephilim remains in a dig near Babel, Iraq,” Nick explained. “For the past two years, I’ve been involved with a team called Project Iceman, working with one Gabriele Alessandro as a consulting archaeologist. Alessandro dedicated his life for the past two decades to tracking down the Nephilim deposited in the earth’s crust and destroying them.

  “We unearthed twenty-two mummified Nephilim, untouched by humans for thousands of years. We didn’t have time to destroy them before Guber’s militia arrived, so we had no option but to transport them to the underground chambers here at the monastery.”

  Jason followed Lawrence past perhaps a hundred monks who were meticulously packaging ancient manuscripts and tomes into enormous steel crates. Lawrence continued walking, then rounded another corner and went through another door.

  “Our Secret Archives,” he said. “Sister to the Vatican’s own. Not for public consumption. Where we keep the church’s more ‘controversial’ artifacts.”

  Ancient manuscripts, tomes, and scrolls were meticulously stacked on shelves reaching up to the very dome.

  “But why destroy them?” Jason asked. “Their value to the scientific community must be immeasurable.”

  “Yes, priceless,” said Nick. “Maybe the greatest discovery in the history of our planet. What is not in the public domain is that both the military-industrial complex and the shadow elite have up till now exercised total control over the world’s antiquities and archaeological findings. We’re talking deep, deep black, Jas—black ops beyond deep black.

  “They release to the public only the archaeological findings that they select. What the general public is totally ignorant of is that they—the shadow elite—are looking for specific artifacts. They sponsored Hitler’s explorations for the spear of Longinus—the Spear of Destiny—and the Ark of the Covenant. They control the bona fide men in black since the Roswell crash. Their deep-black program was thrust into another gear in the early 1980s. Today their specialized black-ops teams in the military search Iraq, Afghanistan.”

  “What are they looking for?”

  “Stargates. Searching out coordinates of portals that connect to wormholes—access to parallel dimensions. The keys to time travel. CERN is only the tip of their proverbial iceberg. They are searching for the very secrets of our universe. They’ve spent billions searching out areas of Nephilim deposits under the earth’s surface.” Nick stopped for breath. “Lawrence . . . ”

  “Because if they can obtain the Nephilim DNA,” Lawrence continued, “they can not only create Nephilim clones—create a supersoldier Nephilim army—but they also would have the ability to mutate the genomic code of the entire human race.

  “Gabriele Alessandro has been tracking down Nephilim on behalf of the Illuminus for the past two decades. Up until now, we have successfully exterminated every trace of the Nephilim race on Earth. Over seven hundred individual creatures, discovered in Iraq, Afghanistan, Israel, Syria, China, and, finally, the Antarctic.

  “Until seventy-two hours ago,” Lawrence continued, “Adrian De Vere’s mercenaries murdered Alessandro and seized the final cargo of a hundred and six Nephilim. What his intention is, we’re not completely certain, but I can assure you, it’s not benevolent.”

  “So,” Jason said dryly, recovering his composure, “who was that back in the crypts—Goliath?”

  Lawrence pursed his lips. “It would serve you well to pay attention, Jason,” he said a little too sharply. “In light of what you have just seen with your own eyes.” He looked at Jason meaningfully. “You have heard of Flavius Josephus?” Lawrence gestured to the twenty volumes on the shelf above him.

  Jason nodded. “He wrote—what was it?—Antiquities of the Jews.”

  “He was a Jewish historian of priestly and royal ancestry who recorded first-century Jewish history. Author of The War of the Jews and The Antiquities of the Jews. The oldest of these manuscripts dates from the eleventh century. They are all Greek minuscules, and all have been copied by Christian monks.”

  Lawrence nodded, and Father Innocentus removed a manuscript from the shelves and laid it out before them on the table.

  “The text of Antiquities that you have in front of you was copied by monks from this very monastery,” Lawrence continued. “Josephus wrote his Antiquities of the Jews to educate the Roman-Hellenistic world. In it, he recounts the tale of the Watchers.

  “Father Innocentus!” Lawrence smiled. “Pray, a brief overview on the Nephilim for our esteemed visitor Mr. De Vere. Time runs down as we speak.”

  Father Innocentus bowed to Jason, then bent over the manuscripts and read:

  “‘For many angels of God accompanied with women, and begat sons that proved unjust, and despisers of all that was good, on account of the confidence they had in their own strength; for the tradition is, that these men did what resembled the acts of those whom the Grecians call giants. But Noah was very uneasy at what they did; and being displeased at their conduct, persuaded them to change their dispositions and their acts for the better: but seeing they did not yield to him, but were slaves to their wicked pleasures, he was afraid they would kill him, together with his wife and children, and those they had married; so he departed out of that land.’”

  “Thank you Father Innocentus. Philo of Alexandria, if you please.”

  The old mo
nk carefully removed a second manuscript. “This is Philo of Alexandria’s commentary on Genesis six, called ‘Concerning the Giants.’” He started to read: “‘And when the angels of God saw the daughters of men that they were beautiful, they took unto themselves wives of all of them whom they Chose.’ Those beings, whom other philosophers call demons, Moses usually calls angels; and they are souls hovering in the air. And let no one suppose that what is here stated is a fable.”

  “Thank you, Father Innocentus.” Lawrence walked over to a far shelf and delicately took down The Book of Enoch, an ancient Jewish religious work ascribed to Enoch, great-grandfather of Noah.

  “Wild, bro.” Nick looked over at Jason. “Before Lawrence showed me the documents I thought it was all fables—no substantiation.”

  “Look . . . ” Jason held up his hands. “No offense. I realize this holds great weight with you both, but this religious stuff goes completely over my head.”

  “Microfilm,” Lawrence muttered, ignoring Jason’s comment. “Of the eleven Aramaic-language fragments of the Book of Enoch found in cave four of Qumran in 1948. In the care of the Israel Antiquities Authority today:

  “‘And it came to pass when the children of men had multiplied that in those days were born unto them beautiful and comely daughters. And the angels, the children of heaven, saw and lusted after them, and said to one another: ‘Come, let us choose us wives from among the children of men and beget us children.’ They were in all two hundred. [They] took unto themselves wives, and each chose for himself one, and they began to go in unto them and to defile themselves with them, and they taught them charms and enchantments . . . . And they became pregnant, and they bare great giants, whose height was three thousand ells . . . . And there arose much godlessness, and they committed fornication, and they were led astray, and became corrupt in all their ways.’ Chapters six through eight.

  “The Codex Sinaiticus, the earliest known version of the Bible. An ancient handwritten copy of the Greek Bible, Alexandrian text-type manuscript, written in the fourth century. Until last year, its contents were divided between four institutions, including St. Catherine’s Monastery and the British Library. Now it resides with us, in Alexandria.”

  Jason sighed.

  “Read it yourself,” Lawrence urged. “Genesis six, verse four.”

  Jason studied the verse, then read it aloud: “‘The sons of God came in unto the daughters of men, and they bare children to them.’ ‘Sons of God’ could mean anything.”

  “To an unenlightened reader, to an uneducated mind,” Lawrence replied, “yes. But it doesn’t.

  There is, however a train of unenlightened thought that insists the sons of God were the line of Seth. Thousands of us, however, concur with a multitude of scholars of the ancient Hebrew text who conclude that ‘sons of God’ is clearly used of angels in Job thirty–eight, verse seven. I quote from the original King James Version: ‘When the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy?’ The Septuagint (seventy) here translates ‘sons of God’ as ‘angels of God.’ The term translated ‘the sons of God’ is, in the Hebrew, B’nai HaElohim, ‘sons of Elohim,’ which is a term consistently used in the Old Testament for ange . . . ” He stopped in mid sentence.

  General Kareem stood at the entrance of the library, followed by Alex. Nick exchanged a long look with Lawrence, who nodded.

  “The Hercules is fueled and waiting, Your Honor,” General Kareem said, then saluted Lawrence.

  Nick looked at him in exhilaration.

  “Jordan. The regime change has been successful?”

  Kareem nodded. “The corrupt Prince Faisal is dead,” he said quietly.

  “Jotapa’s older brother,” Nick said to Jason. “He banished her and Jibril, the crown prince, to Saudi Arabia.”

  “Faisal was executed by his own security forces at dawn,” General Kareem continued. “Our Jordanian special forces will commandeer the King Fahd Airport, eight miles northwest of Damman, then move on to the royal palace to capture Arabian prince Mansoor and his thugs, who have been holding Jotapa and her younger brother, Jibril, captive for over three years.”

  “Alex and I leave now,” Nick said. He exchanged a look with Lawrence, who put an arm around his shoulder.

  “When will you be back?” Jason asked.

  Nick stared at him, strangely silent.

  “Three days,” Kareem answered. He gave a broad smile, revealing brilliant white teeth. “We’ll be in and out before you know it. And the royal princess, Her Highness Jotapa, and Crown Prince Jibril will take their rightful place as rulers of Jordan.”

  Nick lowered his gaze. He kissed Lawrence on both cheeks, then embraced Jason so tightly he could hardly breathe.

  “Hey, hey, it’s only three days,” Jason said, grinning. “Unless you’re planning another disappearing act.”

  Nick smiled, but his eyes were distant. He and Alex followed General Kareem into a second elevator. Then Nick stopped. He spoke without turning.

  “I love you, Jas.”

  The elevator doors closed as a second elevator opened. Dylan Weaver stood in the doorway.

  “What is it, Weaver?” Lawrence asked, walking toward him.

  Dylan held up his cell phone. An emergency series from the alert systems sounded. Then it from each of their cell phones.

  “It’s the DHS handheld alert system,” Weaver said. “The alert pops up automatically on every cell phone across the world in the receiving area of the AXIS Ten nations. We can’t block it.”

  Jason followed the professor and Weaver into the elevator. It opened into Weaver’s lower laboratories. A second set of emergency alert systems sounded from each of their cell phones and from a large screen transmitting network news.

  Adrian’s face came onscreen from Normandy.

  Weaver grabbed the remote and turned up the volume. They stared silently at the screen.

  “We interrupt this broadcast with an emergency announcement from the president of the one-world government, Adrian De Vere.”

  The camera zoomed in on Adrian, impeccably dressed as ever, today in a subdued blue suit that highlighted his steel blue eyes. He held up his hands benevolently, then turned to the ten leaders who stood somberly in a semicircle around him.

  “President Mitchell, President Hong Zou, President Alexandrov, revered clergy . . . ” Adrian looked straight into the camera.

  “My fellow citizens of the world . . . ” He paused, looking grave.

  “I am called as your leader. And each one—mother, father, son, daughter—listening to the sound of my voice is called to give testimony in the sight of the world to our absolute faith that our future shall belong to the free.”

  He paused again. “Tonight, friends, patriots, we stand faced with a worldwide pandemic. As your leader, your sovereign, your ruler, my mind harks back to the inaugural covenant I pledged to you, my fellow citizens: to protect and to govern—to fulfill this vow to you the people of the world, no matter the cost, the price . . . the sacrifice.

  “I have just been informed that at this very moment, unmanned terrorist craft carrying weaponized black plague, flying close to the speed of sound, are headed toward every major city within the footprint of the ten-kingdom axis. This includes Rome.” He hesitated.

  There was a long silence. Adrian stared down at a screen in front of him, placed his hand over his eyes, then rapidly regained his composure. “Dehli, Chennai, Mumbai, and Lahore . . . ” His voice grew soft. “ . . . have just been hit.” He sighed. “As have Berlin, Hamburg, Zurich, Rome, Paris, Amsterdam, Johannesburg, Nairobi.

  “I have been informed that this particular form of weaponized plague is antibiotic resistant. I am talking about the plague, the black death, which wiped out over a third of the entire population of Europe in the year 1348. One of the single most dangerous bioterror weapons in existence.

  “The unnamed terrorist faction has informed us that a second wave of Dolphin submarines, with cruise missiles carrying nucle
ar warheads filled with weaponized Yersinia pestis, will be launched at twenty cities across the United States and Russia within the hour.”

  He hesitated once more as he was handed a document. He held up his hand to the camera, then breathed deeply.

  “Forgive me,” Adrian whispered. He stared down at the document, his hands trembling. “I have just been informed that Washington, D.C., and Colorado Springs, Colorado, have been hit by the black plague. As has the city of San Francisco.” He raised his eyes to the camera. “And Houston, Texas. Cruise missiles have also been launched against Egypt, Syria, China, the Korean peninsula, Russia.

  “In the past eighteen minutes, individual nations have been visited with a violent, cataclysmic assault upon their citizens. Each nation represented here in our ten-kingdom axis is at this moment facing the evil onslaught of a treacherous and unrelenting enemy who has brutally attacked the very fabric of our free and democratic society, represented by our One World Confederacy, in an act of terrorism—a most savage and inhuman strike.

  “The entire ten-kingdom axis is about to come to a standstill. Let me waste no words.

  I have declared a state of emergency, conferring extraordinary powers to myself as president of the one-world superstate. Martial law, emergency law, famine law have been implemented across the world. Curfews are in operation in all member countries. Places of worship, places of gathering, are closed. House-to-house searches are now in operation. All civil aviation flights have been grounded. From London to Hong Kong, New York to Cape Town. I have personally instructed WHO, FEMA, the UN, and the UN Civil Guards throughout the ten-kingdom federation to release immediately to every member of the public our one-world government’s vaccines against Yersinia pestis—the antidote to this pandemic. Included in our vaccine is the most sophisticated antibody, with the ability to counteract and reverse every pandemic known to man, including all forms of bubonic and pneumonic plague.”