As assistant to Under Secretary Robertson at the time, she had been privy to the meeting of the National Security Council with newly elected President Clark. The North Koreans, of course, cried foul to the United Nations and gathered enough support from the General Assembly to garner a formal protest, charging blatant piracy on the high seas against the United States.
The political grand-standing by the President’s detractors on Capitol Hill, along with the bleating of the media, resulted in the ship being released and allowed to proceed unimpeded to its destination.
At the time, Abby protested vehemently to her superior, who just smiled at her and said, “Abby, you will learn in time that things such as these have a way of resolving themselves.”
She did not understand what he meant at the time, but it became all too clear to her when the North Korean merchant ship disappeared somewhere in the Indian Ocean. North Korea protested vehemently again, but without proof, nothing ever came of it. However, the crew of the Los Angeles Class hunter killer sub definitely enjoyed their practice that day.
“I’ll take common sense to political correctness any day,” she told herself at the time.
This morning, Abby was finishing her report for Under Secretary Robertson. She had come in early to assure its completion before his meeting with the National Security Council next week.
Abby always enjoyed the early mornings in the District, as she called downtown D.C. She looked out her third story office on C Street, which afforded her a spectacular view of the Lincoln Memorial and the Potomac River. Her mind wandering, she thought of how she loved her job at the State Department, which enabled her to meet many dignitaries over the last eight years, but left her little time for a relationship.
Maybe it's time I should think about settling down?
She considered this as she watched the cars heading west on C Street towards Alexandria.
I am quite taken with that lovable archaeologist who's off gallivanting in the Canary Islands, of all places. Eli is such a sweet man.
Maybe someday….
Her reverie was cut short when her phone began to ring.
“Under Secretary Robertson’s office: Abigail Conger speaking.”
“Hello, Abby,
it’s
Eli,” the voice on the other end of the line replied. “I’m so glad I was able to get through to you.”
“Hello, Eli. I was just thinking about you. How goes your search for the Holy Grail?” Abby asked jokingly. “You were all over the news here. I saw you’re—”
“Abby,” Eli interrupted, “we’ve got a serious situation here. I must speak to Robertson. I couldn't think of anyone else to call.”
“Situation?
What are you talking about, Eli?”
“Abby, I’m talking about the possibility of massive destruction and loss of life to millions. We’ve stumbled onto a terrorist organization here on Tenerife that is planning to trigger a tsunami from the island of La Palma. If it isn't stopped, it will devastate the coastline of the western hemisphere,” he said, as a stunned Abby fell silent.
“Abby? Are you still there?” Eli asked.
“Yes—yes I’m here, but my God, Eli, how in the world could anyone accomplish that?”
“I don’t have time to explain the whole situation to you right now, Abby. I do have a scientist with me who knows the details of the plot. He can help validate the threat for Robertson. I
can
tell you that we're certain it will happen today. If it does occur, you will only have a 5-6 hour window to mount an evacuation of the east coast. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Eli, I do,” she said hesitantly. “I…uh…I’ll put you through to him right away. He’s in his office.”
She placed Eli on hold, shocked by this revelation, but still not believing such a thing could happen.
This all sounds so crazy
, she thought, wondering how her boss would react. “So help me, Dr. Elias Turner, if you get me fired for this,” Abby said nervously as she transferred the call to Under Secretary Robertson.
Ten minutes later, James Robertson exited his office and was a picture of doubt to Abby.
“Abby, cancel my morning schedule and set up a conference call with the directors of Homeland Security and FEMA.”
“What do you think, Jim?” Abby asked her boss and friend.
“Abby, it’s the wildest thing I’ve ever heard of; something out of a crazy fiction novel. Mr. Turner says he knows you, and now I must ask
you
. Do you trust this man’s credibility?”
“I know Eli Turner is a lot of things, James, but crazy is not one of them. He wouldn’t risk his reputation over something like this unless he was absolutely sure of himself,” she answered as she pulled up a phone list on the computer at her desk.
“I sure hope so,” he said as he turned to head back to his office. “If not,” he sighed, “I may be out of a job real soon. Put them through when you have them on the line, Abby.” Robertson went into his office and shut the door behind him.
20
A
fter finishing his conversation with Secretary Robertson, Eli Turner strolled back into the huge library, scratching the back of his head and wearing a troubled look.
“Well, Son,” he said. “I was able to get the warning out to Washington, but I don’t know if they are going to take the threat seriously. Abby’s boss, James Robertson at the State Department, listened to what Yashiro and I had to say and promised to pass it up the line to the proper government agencies.”
“That’s what scares me,” Turner replied. “By the time they go through all the red tape and actually take action, it may be too late. Or, they may not act at all.”
“He told me that he would give us a reply as soon as possible. I guess that’s all we can expect from them for now,” Eli said, pouring a hot cup of coffee from a large ceramic pot that Julia served following their meal. “I couldn’t find your rum, Carlos, so I guess this will have to do.”
“We’re not finished on this end. Not by a long shot,” Turner said as he finished the last of his coffee. It gave him the boost that he so desperately needed after almost a day without sleep. “Samuel and I have business to attend to at the
luncheon with Professor Santiago, and then we will meet up with Captain Saune later; just in case the cavalry doesn’t come to the rescue.”
“Here, Son, take the Global Star phone with you in the event the cavalry needs directions,” Eli said tossing his son the phone. “I told Robertson at the State Department to expect you when he calls back, and that we were going to try to stop these mad men from here.”
“Not we, Dad; you, Maria, and Mr. Burr are out of this, as of now. I want you to promise me that you’ll stay clear of any trouble from this point on,” he said, rising up and tossing Samuel the holstered 45-automatic.
“Gee, thanks. Just what I’ve always wanted,” said Samuel, rising up after throwing down the last of his hot coffee. “Thank you, lovely lady, for your hospitality,” he added in Spanish to Julia as he kissed her hand in a courteous fashion and caused her to blush.
“Oh, man, you’re too much,” Turner said, teasing his friend. “Come on, Yashiro, you’re a major player in this caper too. We have a job for you.”
“Be careful, Son,” Eli said seriously. “These guys play for keeps.”
“That goes for me, too, Josh,” Maria added, embracing him tightly. “Remember, we have a date.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll pick you up at seven,” Turner replied, smiling as he softly stroked her cheek with his finger.
“Let’s go, amigos,” Samuel said from the now open front door. “Oh, and by the way, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine,” he added in mock jealousy, causing everyone in the room to burst out laughing. Maria watched the three men leave the house, head down the walkway, and then disappear from view into the busy streets of La Laguna.
“Well,” Eli said with a sigh, “looks like we just lay low until we hear from them.”
“I don’t know about you, but I feel useless not doing anything,” Maria admitted as she came back into the room. “There’s got to be something that we can do.”
“Sure, you can do something,” Alton Burr said sarcastically as he came out from the study room, “if you want to get yourself killed. I say we follow young Turner’s advice and keep out of sight, Miss Santiago.”
“I have to agree with the gentleman,” Carlos Santiago said as he put on his trademark white cotton coat. “You’ll all be safe here. I have to leave now for Pencor’s presentation at the main hall.”
“You’re actually going to have lunch with that monster?” Maria asked incredulously.
“If I don’t, he’ll suspect something is amiss. Don’t worry; I’m a sly old goat, my dear. I can take care of myself,” he said, giving his daughter a kiss on the forehead then walking out the front door, leaving the remaining three in an awkward silence.
“Damn,” Eli finally said wistfully, “I’d give anything to be done with this mess and scrambling atop La Palma looking for Simon’s hidden artifacts.”
“Simon?” Burr asked curiously. “Oh, yeah, you did mention that you made a discovery in the tomb. What does it have to do with La Palma?”
“It seems as if the artifacts we were searching for may be on La Palma instead of Tenerife. Maria, did you say that you may know where they are located?”
“Yes, Dr. Turner, I believe I do.”
“Oh, stop with the doctor stuff. You’re making me feel like an old man,” Eli said jokingly. “Just call me Eli, okay?”
“Fine, Eli,” she replied with a warm smile. “Let me get out my father’s map of La Palma.” She walked over to the library map case and pulled out a tube containing a detailed topography map of the island. Clearing the coffee table, she unrolled the map showing the highly detailed terrain of La Palma. The three gathered around the table as Maria began to speak. “On the second parchment that Josh translated last night in the cave, Simon specifically mentioned the island of Junonia. Like I said earlier, that was the name given to the island of La Palma back in the first century,” she said, pointing to the volcanic ridge line that segmented the island from north to south. She went on saying, “Here is the Cumbre Vieja ridge with its volcanic craters running north to south. The most recent eruptions occurred in 1949 at the Crater del Duraznero and Crater del Hoyo Negro. Just south of the island’s midway
point below Duraznero is the four-meter fault line from the 1949 eruption,” she continued, gliding her finger down the slope drawn on the map. “It’s my guess that here is where Pencor’s plan comes into play, utilizing this fault line on the ridge. At this location, just north between the two craters, is a rock formation that was once known as the Rock of the Blessed Virgin, named by the conquering Spanish in the late 1300s. Much of it was destroyed in the 1949 eruption, but I’m positive that this is the Hand of God that Simon referred to in the parchment.”
“Who was this Simon?” Burr asked, a plan forming in his mind as he spoke.
“Evidently, he was an unknown disciple of Jesus of Nazareth. According to the scroll, he was charged by Joseph of Arimathea to protect and safeguard not only the Holy Grail, but also the crown of thorns used to mock him at his crucifixion, and, most importantly, a document written by Jesus himself,” Maria replied.
“Mr. Burr, I know from your history that you, of all people, have no interest in such a find. You and your group are out to remove all aspects of religion from our society; why now the sudden concern?” Eli asked, troubled by the man’s abrupt interest and change of heart.
“We all seek the truth, Dr. Turner,” Burr replied, belying his real motives. “Our efforts in the Secular America Movement have been, simply stated, modeled to protect the separation of church and state as provisioned in the U.S.
Constitution. We want to assure that religion of any sort is kept in a non-public forum, as it should be,” he said, his voice rising in crescendo, knowing that his true plans were far more reaching in scope.
“Well, for your information, Mr. Burr, you and your cronies
have
been touting that ridiculous ideology for years. Most Americans do not know the truth: that those words, ‘separation of church and state’ appear nowhere in the Constitution. In the first amendment, it clearly states that
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion or prohibit the free exercise thereof. Any first year high school student with a decent history teacher should see that it meant there would be no established national church for the colonies of the United States at the time. In layman’s terms, Mr. Burr,” he stated, pointing his finger at him, “no church of the United States period.”
“I don’t agree with that premise, Turner,” Burr said, his anger now clearly visible.
“The federal government,” Eli continued, enjoying his taunting of
Burr,
“was prohibited from setting up a state religion, such as Britain had at the time, but there was no restriction against the practice of religion. That is where people like you have twisted the truth. Thomas Jefferson’s comment concerning the separation between church and state was made in a letter to a group of Baptist clergymen in Danbury, Connecticut around 1802, a group that feared a state-sponsored religion. Jefferson assured the Baptist
Association that the first amendment guaranteed there would be no establishment of any one denomination over another. It was never intended, as you and your group continues to suggest, that our governing bodies be divorced from Christianity and its founding principles. Rather, its purpose was to protect the church
from
the state. Your group, and, the likes of it, has perverted the true meaning to a public that doesn’t know the real truth, so don’t give me that song and dance that you’re serving the public interest.”