Incarnate: Mars Origin "I" Series Book III (9 page)

Langley, Virginia

Major
Jack Hughes took the drive over to NASA in Langley, Virginia instead of having
Dr. Phillips come to his office at the Pentagon. After speaking with Justin
about her meeting with Senator Bruce Cook he’d gotten suspicious.

It
had been years since the first - and only time - he had spoken to Mark
Phillips. At that time, Jack had worked under senior counterintelligence agent
Robert Kevron. It was he who had informed Mr. Kevron of the nuclear activity
they found in the soil samples that had been sent back from Mars. That was in
1997.

Robert
Kevron, at the time, was in charge of public relations between NASA and the
general population. That department, due to budget constraints, was now
defunct. But it appeared that the problems caused by letting out information on
NASA’s space program were not. And he still had to put out fires every now and
then.

Justin
had called him and told him about her unplanned chat with Senator Bruce Cook
and what he told her he wanted.

What the heck did he know?
And how did he
know it?

Those
thoughts had Jack’s brain going in a loop. It was all Jack could think about
once he hung up from her. He decided he would look into it. It wouldn’t take
much of an investigation, there was only one place the Senator could have
gotten his information.

Jack
flashed his badge at the guard in the gatehouse and guided his car into a space
in the Visitor’s section of the parking lot.

Senator
Cook’s activities had been on secret watch lists for a while. Mostly because he
was in a group that half the government was a member of and the half that
wasn’t in it felt threatened by it. No need to guess which side put him on the
list. And no need to guess which side Jack was on.

“I
got wind of a report that you sent over to the Subcommittee on Science and
Space over at Capitol Hill.” Jack had found Dr. Phillips in the hallway near
his lab.

“I
beg your pardon?”

Jack
realized that maybe he didn’t remember him. He stuck out his hand. “I’m Major
Jack Hughes. I work for the Pentagon. I spoke to you about seventeen years ago
concerning some findings your Mars’ probe sent back.”

“Seventeen
years ago? I spend all my time thinking about Mars and what happened billions
of years ago. Sorry, can’t say that I remember you.”

“I
can’t say that I would have remembered you either, except I just got word that
you spoke to a Senator recently about the information you told me about back
then.”

“And
what information would that be?”

“Soil
samples. On your billion year old planet.”

“Mars
is much older than one billion years, Major.” He stopped walking and looked at
Jack. “I didn’t think I had to go through the Pentagon to let the Subcommittee
on
Science and Space
know what I’d found.”

“You
didn’t.” Jack followed him into the lab. “But I do have an interest in this.
For the public’s sake. I need to know what it is you’ve found, Dr. Phillips. I
mean other than the radioactivity you’ve known about for nearly two decades,”

“I
don’t know if I should – can share that information with you.”

Jack
let a half smile curl up on his face. “You are not obligated to share anything
with me. Personally. But in my formal capacity . . .”

“How
is it that you,
personally
, are interested in rock formations on Mars?”

Jack
hadn’t been completely on board when he first heard about Dr. Justin Dickerson
from his twin sister, Addie. But Addie was convinced that what Justin had
written in her book was true. And he trusted his sister. Initially Justin
seemed like another alien enthusiast crackpot. But she had shown him proof of
what she had found. He believed in it so much that he followed her to
Jerusalem, even taking a bullet that was meant for her.

And
now he felt like he needed to protect Justin. But it looked like who he needed
to protect her from was his own employer. Whatever Senator Cook was up to it
seemed to be his own agenda and not that of the United States – at least the
agenda he had sworn to defend.

After he
finished with Mark Phillips, he decided, he’d have a visit with the Good
Senator of California.

Caracol, Belize

Simon
Melas had taken one of the two copies of Justin’s book
The Dead Sea Fish
from Hannah Abelson’s house after he had killed her. He hadn’t been aware of
the other copy or that an edition of her first book was there. He hadn’t been
looking for that one when he spotted it.

He
only took the book to see what Justin Dickerson was working on that would so
consume the maniacal little woman, Hannah, that she would want Justin dead.

Ending
Justin’s life had so consumed Hannah that she had forgot about helping him. He
thought he knew some of what Justin was working on because she had called him
and questioned him about the Book of Enoch. But he had thought wrong. What he
found out was more than what he bargained for.

He
sat in his green, topless Jeep Wrangler in the tangle of jungle growth at the
foothills of the low, thickly forested mountains of Belize. From there, every
day, he’d watch the excavation site that surrounded the main pyramid.

Leaning
back in the jeep, with his legs hanging over the door he peered at Logan
through his binoculars.

He
was going to use her to lure Justin to him.

Simon
had truly learned to like Justin when he first forged their friendship even
though it had been predicated on an arrangement with Hannah.  But those
feelings were long lost. Now he just wanted her dead. And he knew that if he
ever saw her again, dead is what she would be.

Pulling
his eyes away from the binoculars he glanced over at his glove compartment
where he kept his gun. Smiling he thought
, Justin wouldn’t have it so lucky.
Nothing as quick or impersonal as being shot. No. He wanted to see death in her
eyes as it crept up on her. He wanted to feel her soft skin as he wrapped his
fingers around her throat . . .

Putting
Logan back in his site, he saw her as she stood speaking to one of the workers
on the outside edge of the square grids marked off with orange string. She was
smiling, doing her job. A newly minted archaeologist. And she had fit in with
his plans perfectly.

Dr.
Hannah Abelson, when she was first hired at Case Western Reserve University as
a Professor Emeritus of Semitic, had recruited him to watch Justin. She was
hard pressed to find out whether Justin knew about a set of manuscripts found
with the Dead Sea Scrolls in 1997. Hannah had left Israel and moved to
Cleveland in order to keep tabs on Justin. It was just that serious to her. And
she refused to tell him what the manuscripts contained, how Justin might know
about them, or her interest in them. But it hadn’t mattered, Hannah turned out
to be an unexpected ally in what he wanted to do.

And
he and Justin became fast friends. Ten years his senior, she had a personality
that had a youthful edge, and her smile was warm and genuine. He soon learned
that she had a good heart and loyal to a fault to her friends. And she was
smart.

And
what had made him and Justin kindred spirits was her belief in God and how she
had professed her love for Him even in her choice of professions. They had
enjoyed long, erudite discussions about the creation of man as opposed to
evolution and the proof of it that she had spent years digging up. And as it
turned out, she never mentioned anything about the manuscripts. And what he
observed
was that he liked Justin and soon forgot all about Hannah’s covert snooping
mission. It became more like a joke to him - that is until Hannah found out
about Justin’s book.

He
pulled his legs inside the jeep and set up. Logan had finished talking with the
worker and was headed toward the pyramid. He watched her as she walked up the
steps of Caana – the largest pyramid – and disappear inside. He watched her
every move, every day. Just waiting. And each day for the first two weeks he
had watched her walk into the pyramid and then come back out hours later. And
after she left he’d go in and try to figure out what she would do in there by
herself for hours at a time. And each night, searching in the dark and trying
not to wake her team sleeping in the tents that surrounded the site, he saw
nothing she could have be doing all day. Now, with no reason she had changed
her routine.

She
was as sneaky as her mother.

The
smart Biblical archaeologist, Dr. Justin Dickerson had turned from a
respectable biblical archaeologist to a crackpot alien theorist. The author
page of Justin’s second book had told him that her first book had been written
as a fictionalized account of a different origin for man than the one in the
Bible. But, she admitted, the alternative history she told of in that first
book was true and that she would provide irrefutable proof of it. He had got a
hold of a copy and what he read cut at the very core of his being. It was pure
agnosticism.

He
hated her even more after that. Hated what she had become and what she’d done
to him. To his life. If it hadn’t been for her Hannah would have had time to
tend to his needs.

Simon,
an anthropologist, archaeologist and linguist, was Harvard educated. He had
been a lead research scientist at MIT in anthropology helping the institution
forge critical acclaim in an area other than engineering. But he had gotten
caught siphoning grant money from his projects. Hannah didn’t have time to help
him, as she had promised to restore his good name, but once she found out that
Justin had published a book on the manuscripts all bets were off. She became
obsessed. It was about that time that he also realized that Hannah wasn’t
playing with a full deck.

And
that fact - that Hannah was crazy - had become over time, a comfort to him when
he’d agonize over killing her. And the anger he felt for Justin, although not
based on any of her actions toward him, was enough to make him want to kill
again. And he vowed he would the very next time he crossed paths with Justin
Dickerson.

He
had tried to help Justin when Hannah first set her sights on her. Without
giving away his relationship with Hannah, he had tried to discourage Justin
from pursuing the proof that she sought to prove her incredible claims. But
that hadn’t worked. She wouldn’t stop and Hannah wouldn’t either. So he killed
Hannah. And he tried to set Justin up to die too. That hadn’t worked.

But
now, he had another plan.

And
it took stealing government money - again - to get it done.

A
cacophony of noises skirted its way out from the green canopy hills of the hot
and humid rainforest and shot into his ears, banging into his brain giving him
a shiver. He ran his fingers through his shoulder-length, coal black hair that
had drawn up from the humidity, and wiped his sweaty palms down his white
cotton shirt.

He
picked up the binoculars and aimed them at the backside of the pyramid. There
he saw Logan coming out of the pyramid and heading over behind to the
astronomic observatory and into the jungle.

Although
he had searched the pyramid each night after Logan left to see what she was up
to, he didn’t much care. Nor did he care why she took to the jungle now every day.
She was green, new to the world of archaeology. It wouldn’t be long before
being in charge of such a large endeavor would be more than she could handle.
Overwhelmed she would need help. She would have to call her mother.

He
couldn’t wait for that to happen.

It
might have seemed like an elaborate plan to kill Justin, but in his mind it
worked. Kill her in a jungle. Bury her in ancient structures. No one had any
idea he had killed Hannah. He was sure he could get away with killing Justin,
too.

“Where
did you find it?”

I
had to start the conversation. Logan seemed lost in thought as she drove. We
were in Logan’s rental car heading out from the Belize City International
Airport. She started rushing me as soon as I arrived. I hadn’t seen her when I
got off the plane, so I went to the restroom. Before I could squat, she was
calling my phone.

“Where
are you?” was what I got from the other end. Not, a “
Hi, Mommy. Thanks for
coming. I’m here to pick you up.
”

It
was so hot and the breeze that met me when I stepped off the plane made me wet
and my clothes sticky. I had needed to take a minute and catch my breath, go to
the restroom, but she was ready to go. I threw some water on my face and dried
my hands. But once she got in the car, she got quiet. And now she wasn’t
answering my question. So I asked again.

“Where
did you find it?”

She
glanced at me while she was driving. “You know that a lot of the area around
the excavated pyramids have shown, through ground penetrating radar, that a
large part of the complex is still unexcavated, right?”

“No.
I didn’t know that. But go ahead.”

“Hold
on, Mommy.” She took a quick left, missing the exit out to the highway. “I’ll
tell you all about it in a minute. I want to trade this Focus in while I’m here
at the airport. I need a 4x4. This car is not practical at all out in the
jungle.” She pulled into Hertz. “I already have the reservation, won’t take but
a minute. Just stay there until I pick up the jeep, then we’ll transfer your
stuff.”

She’d
left the car running and the air conditioner on. Thank goodness. I ran my
fingers through the tangle of the curls on my head frizzled out by the
humidity. I noticed her phone in a hard vinyl covering with a huge, thick black
antenna. I picked it up, just as she was opening the car door on my side of the
car.

“What
kind of phone is this?”

“Satellite
phone. That way I can use it out in the jungle. Otherwise I wouldn’t have any
reception. It’s really a good thing to have. Now, c’mon. I got the jeep. Grab
your satchel and I’ll get your luggage.”

I
handed her the phone, and pulled myself out of the car. “Are you going to leave
the car running?”

“Yeah,
they’re coming out to get it. Here’s the new car.”

The
Hertz attended pulled up and jumped out of the black jeep. He tossed Logan the
keys and we loaded me and my stuff in. After few minutes after we took off, it
was Logan that started the conversation about what she had found.

“So.
You asked me how I found it. Okay. I decided to just go out and walk around in
the area still unexcavated. Just to get a feel of it. Possibly expand this
session out farther. Show some initiative.” She glanced over at me. “Cover new
ground.”

“Yeah,
I get it. And?”

“And
I found a large – I don’t know, it must weigh at least three thousand pounds –
carved stone panel. Laying face up. From the looks of it, I’m thinking at some
point it had to have been attached to a pretty large pyramid.”

“Like
the one where you’re excavating?”

“Yeah.
Maybe that one. Maybe one not yet discovered. I did go back and look to see if
there was an area on the pyramid at my dig where it could have been attached at
one point.”

Logan
was maneuvering through the streets like she had lived there for years. I
pulled at my clothes trying to get them unattached from my damp skin.

“Did
you find one?” I asked her.

“Not
definitively.”

I
frowned and looked over at her. “What does that mean?”

“You
know, I could see a lot of places where something could have fallen off. And I
did find one spot . . .”

“Yeah?”

We
pulled up to the hotel and Logan turned into the underground parking garage.

“Come
on, Mommy. I got a room for you already. I’ll grab your suitcase and satchel.”

I
looked at my daughter as she got out of the car and threw her canvas knapsack
over her head, stuck her arm through and let it rest on her hip. All grown up
on a dig of her own. She looked just like an archaeologist. Her long black hair
pulled back in a ponytail pushed out the back of a baseball cap that had “DIG”
written across the top, khaki-colored cargo shorts, and a white cotton shirt.

“So,”
she said as we headed toward the elevator to take us up into the hotel. “The
slab could have come from this one part and then slid – on its own, or was
pushed down one set of the steps. There were some areas on the steps that
looked as if the stone had been dragged over it.”

“So,
what’s the problem with that being where the slab fell from the pyramid?”

“Because
of what else I found.”

“So,
wait.” I interrupted her. “This stone slab was just laying out in the open? How
come it hadn’t ever been found before?”

“No.
It wasn’t laying out in the open.” She let her eyes roll back and let out a
sigh.

Dumb
question I guess.

“I
stumbled on the edge of it. And then I uncovered it. Well, I uncovered part of
it.” She paused and looked at me.

“Go
ahead.”

“That’s
how I found it.” She shot a couple of glances over at me out of the side of her
eye, but said nothing more. She pushed the button for the hotel elevator.

I
didn’t say anything either.

 “So.
That’s what you asked. Right?”

I
guessed I was supposed to say something “Uhm . . . So . . . What? It had
inscribed on it “Follow the Corn?”

“Yeah,
it did.”

We
got on the elevator and off on the main lobby before I spoke again. “Logan. I
don’t get it. What’s the big deal?”

“What’s
not to get?”

“It
was written in Mayan hieroglyphics?”

“No.
I mean, yes. That’s the problem, Mommy. I mean it had hieroglyphic text carved
in it, more than anything uncovered at the site in years. It was quite a find.
But I couldn’t let anyone know about it.”

I
raised an eyebrow.

“Because
on one of the edges was carved . . .” She looked down at the floor and then
back up at me. “There was an inscription, ‘Follow the Corn. L.S. II 1968 AD.’
In
English
.”