While the material was being laid out in the beginnings of a grid pattern, Kincaid noted that a cluster of mechs were in the very center of the location and still digging into the side of the mountain. Excavation and a grid — something tugged at Kincaid’s mind, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He had a strange feeling he’d seen something like this before, but where? And how could he have, given that this was being constructed by aliens on another planet?
Artad stared at the same imagery of Mars, which the Chinese had intercepted via their tap into the American military’s supposedly secure web server. He also had seen the same thing before, except he knew exactly what he was looking at. Startled, Artad put the pictures down and accessed the guardian. He had it run a program to determine how long it would take for the thing being built on Mars to be completed. The answer was somewhat reassuring — more than enough time for his forces to complete their conquest and/or destruction of the humans and Aspasia’s Shadow.
Still — Artad picked up the photo and stared at it. Why would the Airlia on Mars be building this? he wondered.
They were Aspasia’s people. But, then again, Aspasia was dead. Were they allied with his enemy’s shadow? Or were they on their own now?
Possibilities.
Artad composed a message to the Airlia at Cydonia and transmitted it via the guardian.
“We need the Ark of the Covenant along with the priestly robes and crown in order to find out who exactly Dr. Duncan is.”
Sherev stared at the speakerphone, considering the request he had just received.
This Garlin fellow claimed to be from the new Area 51 and he had quickly updated Sherev on Duncan’s status. Sherev had seen her body taken aboard the bouncer after he had led Israeli commandos in storming the Mission’s base inside Mount Sinai. He also remembered Turcotte and Yakov and their bravery attacking the Mission.
“So the Grail works?” he asked. “Yes.”
“It brought her back to life?” “Yes.”
“Where is Major Turcotte?” Sherev asked.
“Currently climbing Mount Everest,” Garlin replied. “And Yakov?”
“Mount Ararat.”
Sherev frowned. “Why is he at Ararat?”
“That is not important right now. Our priority is to figure out exactly who Lisa Duncan is.”
“Why?”
“Because she caused the demise of the original Majestic committee and in essence started all of this.”
Sherev leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers.
The intelligence reports of recent events were as often confusing as enlightening. “I thought the original Majestic started all of this, as you say, when it became corrupted by the guardian they found in Temiltepec?”
“Are you going to help us or not?” Garlin snapped. “I’m relaying this request directly from Major Turcotte. He’s afraid to go through diplomatic channels because he doesn’t want this compromised.”
Sherev knew he was in an untenable situation. What had happened in Jerusalem was a clear indicator that the Ark of the Covenant was a dangerous icon. While it was again safe in his vault, how long would that last? The threat to Israel from the countries ringing it was also growing. There were reports of fighting along the Iranian-Turkish border and also between Iran and Iraq. Egypt was claiming sovereignty over the Sinai Peninsula again and asserting that any artifacts removed from Mount Sinai were Egyptian, as they must have originated from that country.
“You know Aspasia’s Shadow has the Grail,” Garlin pressed. “We need to unlock whatever secrets are inside Duncan’s head before he grows too powerful.” Sherev wasn’t quite following what was so important about Duncan, but he also knew that just sitting there with the Ark of the Covenant locked in a vault wasn’t doing anybody any good. “I will be heading toward your location with the Ark of the Covenant immediately.”
Over sixty years late, the Arizona exited the channel at Pearl Harbor into open ocean to link up with the rest of the fleet. Unfortunately the fleet it was going to join was controlled by an alien force.
The ship glided through the water, increasing speed as it cleared the channel. The acceleration continued, water being sucked into vents built into the sides of the bow by the nanovirus, channeled through large pipes, put under pressure, and expelled at the stern where the ship’s mighty propellers had been replaced, the metal used to help construct the new propulsion system. Soon the ship was moving at over sixty knots.
In place of the turrets where mighty guns had once been, there were cruise missile launchers. The nanovirus had done such an efficient job resurrecting the Arizona that it was more modern than any ship in the Alien Fleet it was going to join.
Captain Lockhart stood on the bridge of the ship, a set of binoculars to her eyes, trained to the right, watching the southwestern corner of Oahu slip by. She put the binoculars down and turned as a crewman handed her a message — the location of the Alien Fleet. She issued the appropriate order to the helmsman and the Arizona sliced through the ocean en route to the rendezvous point.
General Kashir had only twenty-five men left from the three hundred he had crossed the border with. At least the Turkish jets weren’t flying in the darkness. His men had made a miserable camp on the side of the mountain, among the rocks, snow, and ice. He forbade them making fires for fear of being seen by Turkish patrols, which they had spotted below them just before dark. They could see vehicle lights far below as the Turkish army surrounded the mountain, but it didn’t appear that the troops were moving upslope yet.
He pulled a sealed envelope from his jacket pocket and pulled a poncho over his head so that his flashlight wouldn’t be seen. He turned on the light and opened the envelope. A piece of paper was inside, folded in half. He extracted the paper and unfolded it. A set of directions handwritten in Arabic directed him on the final stages of finding his way into the cavern that held the mothership. And then further instructions on how to get inside the mothership and what to do once he was inside. He found it all overwhelming.
He had met Al-Iblis just once and the “man” had chilled Kashir to the bone with his aura. But Al-Iblis had been a valuable ally over the years, the ultimate reason why Kashir held the rank he did and had wealth that far exceeded that which was equal with his rank. At that one meeting Al-Iblis had given him this envelope and told him he must be prepared upon receipt of a certain code word to execute this operation. Kashir had always hoped that day would not come. He imagined the man who had assassinated Hussein had felt the same way, as there was little doubt in Kashir’s mind that Al-Iblis’s long reach had been involved in that.
Satisfied that the entrance to the cavern wasn’t far off, Kashir turned off the flashlight and removed the poncho. The first thing he saw as his eyes adjusted to the dark was the small red dot trained on his chest. Kashir slowly got to his feet, peering about in the dark. Men were moving — men with something on their faces. Night-vision goggles, very advanced, something that Kashir knew his army did not possess. The red dot was still on his chest. Then, as his eyes adjusted further, Kashir noted that his men lay still, too still.
One of the figures came up to him. Kashir now saw that the muzzles of their weapons were bulky — silencers. His men had all been killed while he had read the instructions underneath the poncho. He felt his stomach quake and bile rise in his throat.