Agent M: Testament (The Agent M Series Book 2) (13 page)

Adriel didn’t dare speak this time. Perhaps he already knew that his guest was already uneasy with this whole encounter. That or he caught a glimpse of Michael’s clenched fist after reminiscing of a prior battle in a place like this. Their destination had finally approached. Adriel led Michael towards the left side of the building. They walked crossed the pew in the front row and approached a large wooden door of similar design as the entrance.

“It appears our time together has ended. This is the entrance to our library. The one who has been waiting to meet you is inside.”

Adriel gestured for Michael to continue on without him.

“If you please.”

Michael reached for the golden handle without giving Adriel a final glance. He had reserved his continually growing list of questions up until this point. It was time to get some answers. One way or another, Michael always got what he wanted. He turned the handle gently but in one smooth motion. The door pulled back to reveal a large room. Every single wall, edge, and corner were covered in shelves; each of which were filled to the brim with books. This was no ordinary church library. There easily several thousand of book stored in this room, most of which appeared older than Michael, others appeared older than the country they currently resided in. Michael initially expected to see nothing but Holy Scriptures and religious tomes but that barely encompassed a fraction of what this room held. The history of the entire world, either genuine or still under speculation and debate, was contained within these walls.

In the center of the room, another young man sat quietly at a large wooden desk. His eyes were glued to the open book before him. Pages of notes and doodles were scattered across the open area. His focus did not waver even after the sudden change in the room’s pressure. Michael stood there waiting calmly but for what seemed like one extended moment. It wasn’t until the door gently shut behind him that the man at the desk even bothered to look up.

“Oh, you’ve finally arrived,” he said with a touch of excitement spilling from his tongue.

He stood up from his desk and calmly walked towards the FBI agent. His attire was similar in design to that of Adriel’s only he wore a white cassock in lieu of black. However, this one shared a few dissimilarities as well. It appeared to look more heavily armored then that of the others, as if each piece were carefully crafted separated only by carefully sewn lines that bound the cassock into a suit of armor of sorts. The fabric itself looked stronger and more durable. It bore a striking resemblance to the spider-silk Kevlar weave Michael would wear underneath his Kevlar trench coat. The familiar silver symbol of the cross was outlined throughout most of the front and similarly shaped necklace sat squarely in the center of his chest. It looked to be made of pure silver and hung from a chain of pearls of the same color. His face was young but he carried himself as if he was a man with thousands of years of experience. Though his carefully cut and styled blonde hair would ring different.

“Forgive me, I was in the middle of my studies,” he extended a gentle yet firm hand out towards Michael. “My name Davis Tristan LeClair but please, call me Davis. It is an absolutely pleasure to meet you Mr. Curtis.”

Once Michael locked eyes with this man he did not waver for a second. Not even to give him a proper greeting. They were the ones that screwed with his head during an important operation and essentially dragged him out here only on the notion of explaining their motives further. As far as he was concerned, they could forgo any immediate courtesies and get right down to business.

Davis almost shamefully pulled his hand back.

“My apologies Mr. Curtis. I know contacting you was sudden but the opportunity to do so was marginal. We’ve been waiting for this chance for almost a year now.”

This reeked of something foul. Michael could account for hundreds of times between assignments where he was left all alone in the confines of his apartment. They chose today, tonight, and now for a specific reason. The only thing Michael can officially confirm about this organization is that they knew exactly what they wanted and how to get it.

“Spare me,” Michael hissed.

“Right, pardon my manners Mr. Curtis. I believe an explanation is in order and you rightfully deserve one. I apologize for the secrecy but that is something our organization heavily regulates. Possibly to a fault, but I digress.”

Davis pointed to a nearby chair next to the desk.

“Would you like to have a seat?”

After a brief moment of dead silence, he took the hint.

“Very well. I’m sure you have many questions. The first of which is who are we and the next, why did we bring you here? Rest assured Mr. Curtis, you will get your answers.”

Reaching towards a nearby shelf, Davis pulls from within a fairly large book bound in black leather and gold trim. He takes it in both hands and offers it to Michael for examination. The title reads Nostradamus written in ancient Latin and dated 1549.

“I’m sure given your history you are fully aware of the works of Nostradamus.”

Michael gave a short nod and proceeded to open the book. Davis casually continued.

“In the mid-1500s, Nostradamus had quickly established a legacy as a seer or prophet, if you will. Some of his earliest works gained the attention from nobles and politicians from all over Europe. His fame quickly spread and though he only lived for another sixteen years after his first almanac was published, his legacy still lives on to this very day.”

History lesson aside, Michael felt like Davis was about to get into very heart of the matter momentarily. The book only confirmed his suspicions. It appeared to be an autobiography of the famous French seer.

“However,” Davis continued, “The man you’ve read about was merely a mask of the man he truly was. Nostradamus was more than a fabled seer. He was the savoir of humanity.”

That comment drew Michael’s eyes away from the book. For the first time since they have been together, Davis had an aura of seriousness the likes of which only rivaled that of his guest.

“It is known amongst those in our organization that before Nostradamus ever touched pen to paper to write his famed list of prophecies he was struck with a vision. He saw detailed imagery of our earth and the tragedies that would begin to curse these lands. They were so vivid and real that the very morning he awoke after seeing these visions he wrote down everything he saw.”

Davis paused for a brief moment to allow the gravity of his next words to sink.

“In that very book you are holding.”

Michael’s brief moments with the book soon confirmed Davis’ story. He knew of some of the most famed prophecies of Nostradamus given the nature of his being and the relation to the project that created him but this writing was different. It wasn’t just a book with flat out and bold predictions. It told a story. As Michael poured through the pages he started to see things written in here in great detail that the books published in his name have only hinted at. They were no longer vague writings or brief explanations open to interpretation. These were highly descriptive and named accounts of some of the greatest tragedies the world has even known. The book itself appears to have the age to support Davis’ claims yet it predicts the very year Adolf Hitler rose to power and the day that President John F. Kennedy would be assassinated. All of which have undoubtedly come true.

“A normal individual may have passed off these visions as a simple night terror. Nostradamus was an educated man and didn’t want to think any of these things could happen. It wasn’t until his first vision came true, France declaring war on England, merely three days later did he take them seriously.”

It was the first thing Michael read. On the very first page it detailed France’s defeat against England in the siege Boulogne. One could only imagine seeing a vision like that and not taking it seriously. It was only after confirmation of this incident did the seer begin to trust what he had seen. Michael could empathize with that at the very least.

“In his infinite wisdom, Nostradamus knew that these visions were too dangerous to share with the world all at once. He began to release them slowly, to test the waters, if you will. He shared a few choice prophecies, ones that wouldn’t do much harm and masked them in vague literature as to not arouse suspicion from the church. One who could literally predict the future may be seen as someone dabbling in areas that may go against the teachings of God.”

The church was very unforgiving back in those days. They had more authority and control over the population that most governments could only dream of. If only they could see the world we live in today.

“Nostradamus always made sure to throw in a few minor fallacies with each prophecy. Some more glaring than others. He didn’t believe the world was ready to know all of the tragedies that lie ahead so he masked them so that future generations may be able to decipher what may befall them and perhaps, give them a small chance to stop it.”

A clever deception but somehow the story doesn’t check out. Nostradamus was famous enough in his own time but in today’s world, he’s almost considered a joke. Most people haven’t even heard of him and the ones that do only know him as a man who told wild stories that can be construed as truth. Something in this puzzle was missing and Davis had the pieces lined up and ready for placement.

“Despite his good standing with the public and a growing adulation of fans across the country, the church kept a wary eye on his activities. They knew there were more to these writings than meets the eye. It wasn’t until 1555 that the church decided to secretly raid Nostradamus’ home and find that very book with all of his works. Normally, a transgression like that would bring upon immediate excommunication but surprisingly enough, the church took a different approach. They wanted to work with Nostradamus and use his writings as a tool of good rather as one to potentially warn of tragedies. The collected mass of some of the highest ranking church officials banded together in a secret meeting. All which shared the same vision, the protection of God’s earth.

“At that very moment, Nostradamus shared the entirety of his vision to the church. All of his secrets were laid out. He spared no detail. In that light, the church began to see him as something else; something more. He wasn’t a man driving mad with hysterical visions. Rather, Nostradamus was a genius. He desperately wanted to cure and save our earth and went about it in the most logical way possible. The church commended him for his efforts and, in a complete turn of events, offered their aid.

“Throughout the discussion, everyone pooled together ideas on how to proceed. The first of which was to completely disregard the workings of Nostradamus. The idea here was to tweak his writings even further to make him appear to be more of a blind optimist than a prophet. They didn’t want the world to know the tragedies that would befall them for it may cause rise to much undo panic and worry. One of the first orders was to have an aid completely rewrite his work for the next few decades under the guise of Nostradamus himself to further discredit his previously published works.”

Davis heavily sighed in remembrance.

“In order to vindicate our savior we had to turn him into a fool.”

The memory of the former seer still weighed heavily in his heart as he continued.

“Afterwards, they discussed the idea of creating an organization solely dedicated to guarding these events, watching over them as God himself would. Then, when the time was right, intervene in order to save humanity from the brink of tragedy. That single moment gave birth to Testament.”

The Catholic Church has had its fair share of secrets in this world’s history. However, creating an organization like this didn’t sound like it was in their best interests. Davis immediately confirmed that speculation.

“However, the Church’s motives became quite clear during our organization’s infancy. They wanted to use us as a tool to allow fear to spread to the masses. The Church ordered us on which prophecies to follow and which to ignore. They believed that in spreading the fear of death among the people would drive them to seek out God and create a population that would continually serve him throughout eternity. They reasoned this by stating that God does not put anything on our plate that we could not handle. Some things had to happen in order to defer away from greater tragedies, no matter how bad they may seem, were still in the best interest of the greater good. This was not a sentiment shared by neither the creator Nostradamus nor his colleague, the Father.

“In a bold move, Nostradamus and the Father split from the church, taking the secrets of the world with them in order to create an organization free from man’s will and one closer to God’s. They retook that book from the church’s grasp plus the names of six children who were destined to become the first Paladins of this organization. Those eight men began something that is destined to save the world.”

Davis extended his arms outward, as if he were holding the entire weight of the planet within his waiting hands.             

“We here at Testament are the guardians of God’s earth. Each of us chosen for our unique gifts in order to bring everlasting peace to this planet. Only one goal remains now, to seek out the unfinished prophecy of Nostradamus and make sure it does not come into fruition.”

Those words hit the FBI agent hard. Michael started to flip through the remaining pages of the book, not so much as read a single one until he came to the end. The last paragraph spoke of the end of the world in great detail. The complete decimation of each great city. Darkness befalling the one evil nation. And finally, the complete extinction of humanity. Nostradamus did not end his book with great details of these events or even give a single clue as to how they would happen. His great book of prophecies was finished in just four words.