The 13th Enumeration (27 page)

Read The 13th Enumeration Online

Authors: William Struse,Rachel Starr Thomson

Tags: #Christian Books & Bibles, #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery & Suspense, #Religion & Spirituality, #Fiction, #Mystery, #Religious & Inspirational Fiction, #Christianity, #Christian Fiction, #Suspense

Chapter 59

 

Tel Aviv, Israel

Marcus had been putting it off for several days, but he knew he could do so no longer. He had to call the number.

Marcus picked up the phone and dialed. On the second ring, the cold, dark voice answered. Marcus repeated the code phrase and proceeded to give a report on the investigation of Contact 13. They had located the apartment complex where Contact 13 lived, and in a few more days they would have his identity.

“How much longer until you know the destination of the messages sent by Contact 13?”

“Possibly a week or more,” said Marcus.

“Very well, notify me the minute you know more.”

The line went dead. Marcus put away his phone and sat thinking. Whenever the Guardian had an interest in something, dead or missing people were soon to follow. Marcus just hoped he didn’t become a person of interest. There were some fates worse than death, and the Guardian knew most of them.

 

* * *

 

Sir Peter Herschel sat alone at a desk in his London library. He considered the information provided by Tacitus. The code name of Marcus Nayat, if his memory served him well. Over ten years ago he had been sponsored by a member of the Order. Once a prospective member was sponsored, a one-year probation was started, during which the new prospect was carefully watched and his background investigated. At the end of this probation period, the thirteen-member governing council voted whether to approve the new member. If the vote was unanimous, the prospective member was allowed to join.

The Order, in keeping with tradition, gave each new member a code name. Members of the Order were chosen from the top echelons of the secret societies of the world. Each member committed to the cause of mankind’s enlightenment. Their motto: “Enlightenment is the end which justifies our means.” Once a member of the Order, each new devotee progressed through thirteen additional degrees of initiation before being trusted with the secrets. New members were never told about the additional degrees. Each new degree was portrayed as the final initiation.

Peter Herschel looked up the status of Tacitus. Nayat was only a first-degree member; therefore, the extent of his knowledge was limited to collecting information related to any communications or symbols using the number thirteen. So far he had proved loyal.

Sir Peter Herschel was sixty-five years old and a mountain of muscle, bone, and sinew. His massive frame was better suited for a coat of armor than the wool Armani suit he was wearing. He had a well-deserved reputation for being cold-blooded and ruthless. Despite his incredible size, he moved with the ease and stealth of a cat. He was in prime physical shape, and there was very little fat on his imposing three-hundred-pound frame. He was an incredibly imposing man, and he used that for every ounce of effect.

Luormus, the company which Sir Peter Herschel had founded, was the world leader in human genetic research and modification. It pioneered genetic research related to the modification of human DNA through atomic chemical stimulation, its stated goal to bring about the next step in human evolution.

He often thought about the irony of his life. He had been raised by devout Christian parents and had a reasonably normal childhood, except for his size. In college, Peter Herschel rejected Christ and Christianity, instead embracing the secular humanistic philosophy of his professors. There he had joined his first secret society, and from that point forward he had begun a personal quest. This quest had brought him full circle to a realization of the relative accuracy of the biblical record. His parents had been partially right—only they had chosen the wrong side.

Looking up, he read out loud the quote above his desk on the wall, from Albert Pike, one of his heroes and one of the most esteemed members of the Order:

 

Lucifer, the Light-bearer! Strange and mysterious name to give to the Spirit of darkness! Luci
fer, the Son of the Morning! Is it
he who bears the Light, and with its splendors intolerable, blinds feeble, sensual or selfish souls? Doubt it not!

 

Peter Herschel had learned from his own research that Yahweh, the god of the Bible, was not a true myth. The story of Eden and the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil was a metaphorical story of the real-life struggle between Yahweh and Lucifer for mankind’s enlightenment. It was Lucifer, so the story went, who had shown the early humans that to become gods they must eat of the fruit of enlightenment. He promised them that once they ate the fruit, their eyes would be opened. Ever since that day, those who had joined Lucifer in his struggle to enlighten mankind had paid homage to the biblical story by use of symbols. In Peter’s opinion, only naïve fools who were willingly ignorant would not see the symbolism. The symbols were everywhere: the open eye, representing the enlightenment promised by the serpent; the apple with a bite taken out of it, representing their choice to eat the fruit of enlightenment; the yin and yang, representing the struggle of good and evil in the quest for godhood.

Sir Peter Herschel knew that the longer the “feeble, sensual, and selfish souls” were kept ignorant of the true nature of the struggle, the better the chance the Order would have of succeeding in the enlightenment of mankind. Albert Pike, the great philosopher of Masonry, had explained it to some of his Masonic brethren this way:

 

Masonry, like all the religions, all the mysteries, Hermericism and alchemy conceals its secrets from all but the adepts and sages, or the elect, and uses false explanations and misinterpretations of its symbols to mislead those who deserve to be misled, to conceal the truth, which it calls light, from them and to draw them away from it. The blue degrees (that is the craft degrees) are but the outer courts or portico of the temple. Part of the symbols are displayed there to the initiate, but he is intentionally misled by false interpretations. It is not intended that he shall understand them, but it is intended that he shall imagine he understand them. Their true explication is reserved for the Adepts, the Princes of Masonry. The whole body of the Royal and Sacerdotal Art was hidden so carefully, centuries since, in the High Degrees, so that it is even yet impossible to solve many of the enigmas they contain. It is well enough for the mass of those called Masons, to imagine that all is contained in the Blue degrees; and whoso attempts to undeceive them will labour in vain, and without any true reward violate his obligations as an Adept. (Albert Pike’s
Morals and Dogma,
104, 105, and 819)

 

Tradition had it that in 46 AD, the apostle Mark made a convert of an Alexandrian sage named Ormus, along with six of his followers. With their conversion, they brought into Christianity the Zoroastrian, Mithraic, and He
r
metic philosophies of the ancients. This new brand of Christianity chose the symbol of the red cross. These enlightened Christians called themselves the Sages of Light. The official version of the story was that these Sages of Light or enlightened ones eventually became know as
Rosenkreutz,
or Rosicrucians, after their red cross symbol. Peter had learned that Rosenkreutz was a clever concealment for
raz karowz,
which was Aramaic for “Heralds of Secrets.” The Sages of Light, the Heralds of Secrets, kept the Luciferian doctrine of enlightenment alive for the next one thousand years until they passed the torch to the Knights Templar.

The Sages of Light did their work so well that in just a few decades the rites and rituals of Zoroastrianism and Mithraism had become inseparable from early Christian teaching. Both sides had lost part of their identity in this marriage.

By the time of the Crusades, the quest for the lost secrets was begun again in earnest. In 1118 a group of nine knights led by Hugues de Payens formed a monastic order for the protection of pilgrims to the Holy Land. They became known as the Knights Templar. King Baldwin II of Jerusalem granted them residency on the Temple Mount in a wing of the royal palace. Tradition had it that the Knights Templar excavated under the Temple Mount and found Solomon’s buried treasure, as well as rediscovering many of the lost secrets of the Sages of Light. Those secrets became the basis for the legends of the Grail. The Order of the Knights Templar became the new
raz karowz,
or Heralds of the Secrets. This new order also carried the symbol of the red cross.

In addition, the Knights Templar also discovered a secret which would shape the Order and its offshoots for the next nine hundred years. Peter Herschel believed the Knights Templar had rediscovered the secret of the 13
th
Enumeration. A secret so powerful it had the power to overturn nine hundred years of progress in the enlightenment of mankind. As a grave reminder, de Payens created thirteen degrees for the Templar order. These degrees reminded them of their new mission: a bold quest to keep the secret of the 13
th
Enumeration.

Today Sir Peter Herschel and his organization were the military arm of that ancient Order. They were a twenty-first-century version of the Knights Templar. He and his group of men and women protected the secrets of enlightenment and purged the pages of history of the knowledge of the 13
th
Enumeration.

Sir Peter picked up his phone, dialed a number, and waited for an answer. After the third ring a voice answered, “Yes?”

“Anton, this is Sir Peter. We have a situation that needs tending to.” Sir Peter explained for a few minutes. “I want you to take a team to Israel and stand by, ready to clean up any loose ends. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. I will provide you with more details after you arrive in the Holy Land. I want you on-site in twenty-four hours.”

Sir Peter put down his phone. He still didn’t know if Contact 13 was relevant to the secret, but Peter had not kept it for thirty years by taking unnecessary chances.

Chapter 60

 

Tel Aviv, Israel

David arrived on an El Al flight from New York to Tel Aviv early on the morning of July 31. He was met by a low-level agent from the Institute for Intelligence and Special Operations, better known as the Mossad. The agent was an attractive woman David estimated to be in her midthirties. She had the no-nonsense attitude of a military officer. She walked up to David and without hesitation said, “Welcome to Israel, Mr. Johnson. Please follow me. Your bags will be waiting for us at the car.”

David had been told he would be met by a Ms. Ulatowski, but he did not like being led around by the nose, so he extended his hand and asked, “Ms. Ulatowski?”

The agent replied with a curt yes and ignored his offer of a handshake.

“Ms. Ulatowski, could I see some identification please?” David asked with professional courtesy. Without a word, she withdrew her credentials from her pocket and extended them, her face an emotionless mask. David took his time in looking at the identification. Several times he looked at the picture on the ID, then up at the woman extending it. This agent was well-trained, David thought to himself. She had tested him immediately to see if he would do her bidding without question. Mind games were the stock-in-trade of intelligence officers. David had purposely drawn her out to see if she would react. She just stood there without a trace of emotion, watching his every move.

Finally David said, “Very well, Ms. Utalposki, I am ready to go.” She started to say something after David purposely mangled her name, but she stopped herself almost in time. So she was human after all, David thought, smiling.

Turning, she walked toward the terminal exit and a waiting car at the curb. The car was unmarked with flashing lights on the top and had been left unmolested by airport security. Obviously, they knew who it belonged to.

David opened the front passenger door and stepped in. Sitting down, his large frame barely fitting inside, he couldn’t help but wonder if they had purposely chosen such a small car. He wouldn’t put it past some clever spook to know how big David was and then find the smallest car in the fleet to pick him up in.

His knees practically at his chest, David barely managed to pull his briefcase in after him and close the door. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed just a hint of a smile on Ms. Ulatowski’s face.

“Please fasten your seat belt, Mr. Johnson,” she requested with barely suppressed laughter in her voice.

With a good-natured laugh, he replied, “Ms. Ulatowski, you will just have to drive carefully. Under the current circumstances, I do not think I can reach my seat belt. So who was the wiseacre who picked this circus ride?”

She replied with a sly smile—her first show of obvious emotion. “I chose the ride, Mr. Johnson. Make yourself comfortable; we will be on our way now.”

Fifteen minutes later they arrived at Mossad headquarters, and David unfolded himself from the car. Inside, they both showed their IDs to the security personnel at the checkpoint. Once the guard was satisfied, Ulatowski led David down a series of corridors and turns until they finally arrived at a conference room in the heart of the building.

“Please wait here, Mr. Johnson. Mr. Yadin will be with you shortly.”

After she left, David looked around the nondescript room: conference table, standard government-issue metal and plastic chairs, three white walls, fourth wall with one-way window. David knew Nigel Yadin, the Mossad chief, was likely behind that mirror looking him over right now. Never one to be intimidated, David walked naturally over to the mirror, brushing off his suit jacket and straightening his tie, and then smiled into the mirror and checked his teeth for any stray food. When he had finished, he turned his back on the mirror and sat down to wait.

On the other side of the glass, Nigel Yadin grunted and said, “Confident young man, this American.”

Standing a few steps away, Marcus replied, “Arrogant, if you ask me.”

“No,” replied the chief, ”I don’t think so. Just confident. The American director called me last week and told me this young man was an up-and-coming intelligence analyst, one of the best he’s seen in years. Our own profile on him says he is an intelligent, big-picture thinker who plays by the rules.”

Marcus laughed cynically. “In our game that is not necessarily a good character trait. His profile also says he is a devout Christian. Just what we need—another messianic nut job getting in our way.”

The chief looked at Marcus in an unfriendly manner. “You’re a fool,” he said. “Our existence would be very lonely if weren’t for those ‘messianic nut jobs,’ as you call them. They have been unshakable supporters of our nation since the beginning. Their voice in support of Israel has had incalculable political impact over the last sixty-five years. And don’t forget they also support us with their money. Christians like Mr. Johnson account for fifty-four percent of all tourism to our nation. Now, let’s go see what this messianic nut job has for us.”

David looked up as the director of the Mossad and another agent walked through the door. He stood to greet them, and after introductions were made all around, they sat down at the table. Nigel Yadin started the conversation by saying, “Your director called me and said he was sending us some information concerning a terrorist network related to the attack in New York. He indicated there might be a link to that organization here in Israel. We would be interested in what you have found.”

David opened his briefcase and withdrew a folder. Removing two copies of the report from Sam’s virus scan showing the locations of computers in Israel that were actively using the Anaj network, David explained, “What you are looking at are computer addresses of people who are using a modified form of a commercially available encryption software. The modified version is called Anaj. Once or twice a week, members of this network download a junk mail picture off the Internet. This junk mail is sent to millions of Gmail accounts all over the world—it ranges from mail-order Russian brides to over-the-counter pharmaceuticals. It’s originating from a Ukrainian Internet company.”

He paused to see if they were following him so far. Chief Yadin nodded, indicating he should continue. “What’s unique about these pictures is that we have found one picture can contain multiple messages, each encrypted using the Anaj software. We have learned much of this thanks to the investigative work of one of our FBI contractors, who happens to be the creator of the original encryption software upon which Anaj is based. Thanks to his foresight, he left a tagging option in his software which has allowed us to determine those who are using it without authorization. We assume once the recipient of the software downloads the picture into his Anaj software, he enters his password and receives a message specifically addressed to him. Based on records we have obtained from Google, we have learned that Joe Douglas—who, as you know, was responsible for the attack in New York—was also downloading these pictures off Google’s servers. So we believe he is related to this network in some way.”

Indicating the paper reports they were holding, he continued, “As you can see, we have been able to trace each of the computers using the Anaj software to a specific address. Five of those computers are right here in Tel Aviv. One is a bakery, two originate from an apartment complex, and the other two are private residences.”

Nigel Yadin and Marcus looked at each other, both recognizing the addresses for the bakery and the apartment complex. If they were in fact related to the attack in New York, they must proceed with caution. They didn’t want to spook the contacts into acting before they learned what was intended for Israel.

Turning to Marcus, Nigel said, “Put teams on each of these addresses immediately. I want to know everything about these people by tomorrow morning. All surveillance is to be discreet. We don’t want them to know we’re on to them until we are ready to arrest them.”

Turning back to David, the chief said, “Mr. Johnson, as part of my agreement with your director, in exchange for this information we are allowing you to be an observer on our operations related to the information you provided. Two of the addresses you provided are already under surveillance. They have found a way to pass information through our sewer system. Marcus will fill you in on the details in due time. Understand this: regardless of the agreement I have with your director, if at any time you get in the way or step out of line, you will be on the first flight back to the States. Is that understood?”

David looked coolly into the Mossad chief’s eyes and replied in a quiet, confident voice, “I understand, sir.”

Nigel motioned for Marcus to follow him. “Please excuse us for a moment, Mr. Johnson. I need to speak to Mr. Nayat.”

Once outside, Nigel turned. “Marcus, let him in on the investigation, but watch him closely. If he steps out of line, I want him gone. But Marcus, listen to me carefully: I want you to treat this man with respect. His director places confidence in him, and they have provided us with an intelligence coup. If we play this carefully, we may strike a major victory against our enemies.”

Marcus was not happy with the arrangement, but he acquiesced. “Yes, sir. I will not push the boundaries on this one, but if he steps so much as one toe out of line . . .”

Nigel turned away without another word.

Marcus returned to the conference room. “Mr. Johnson, we have made accommodations for you in Tel Aviv. At seven sharp tomorrow morning, Ms. Ulatowski will pick you up and bring you to our field operations command center. If you are not waiting for her out front at seven a.m., she will leave. We have limited resources, and we cannot waste them waiting for you. Ms. Ulatowski will be here shortly to take you to your lodgings.”

Marcus left the room without another word. David waited, thinking about what he had learned and the impressions he had gathered. One thing was for sure: these folks were all business.

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