The Rozabal Line (24 page)

. . . two . . . three . . . four . . . five . . . Okay, Vincent, where are you?'

'I'm an Inca warrior protecting Sapa Inca Pachacuti. I am the bodyguard for Mama Anawarkhi, the wife of Sapa Inca Pachacuti.'

'You like her?'

'No. I am killing her. I have to. She is plotting against the Sapa Inca. She's Swakilki!'

'Anyone else familiar?'

'Yes. General Prithviraj. He is the Sapa Inca. I protected him. That's why he is protecting me!'

'I will again count forward from one to five. You will move forward in time . . .

one . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . five . . . Okay, Vincent, where are you?'

'It's 1794. I'm in France. The guillotine is bloody with the heads that have rolled.'

'Anyone you recognise?'

'The woman, Charlotte Lavoisier, she is being guillotined; she looks like Swakilki.

Her executioner, Sanson, looks like Terry Acton. He takes her head in one life . . . she will take his in another.'

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'Counting forward . . . one . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . five . . . Okay, Vincent, where are you?'

'I'm a doctor in London. World War Two is going on. I am working for the Red Cross. I can see the Sossoon home, which is a supply depot.'

'Anyone familiar?'

'Clementine Sossoon. She is very sick . . . cancer. Her face is like yours, Nana.

Wait. It is you, Nana! I took care of you, that's why you love me so much. Isn't that so?'

Martha smiled as she continued: 'Counting forward . . . one . . . two . . . three . .

. four . . . five . . . where are you?'

'In the backyard of my parents' home in New York. My dad and I are playing catch in the backyard. My mom is barbequing hot dogs in the corner.'

'Moving forward . . . one . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . five . . . where are you?'

'At my parents' funeral. It's raining. I cannot make out whether my face is wet because of my tears or on account of the rain.'

'Moving forward . . . one . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . five . . . where are you?'

'In captivity. Swakilki is holding me prisoner. She leaves me inside a windowless toilet in the Shaitana nightclub. It's stifling hot inside.'

'Moving forward . . . one . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . five . . . where are you?'

'Back in Megiddo.'

'What are you doing?'

'I am at a kibbutz in Israel. The hill that overlooks the valley of the kibbutz is where the final showdown will happen.'

'Where is this hill located?'

'Very close to the intersection of Highway 65 and 66. Nearby is a large prison holding many Palestinians who have been arrested for terrorism against the Israeli state.'

'What do you see?'

'A mosaic.'

'What sort of mosaic?'

'It belongs to an ancient church. It was uncovered recently. It belongs to the third century. It has a sign. It says that Gaianus donated his own money to build this church.'183

'The same Gaianus you saw earlier? The one you were chasing when you were a Roman soldier?'

'It's him!'

'Who?'

'Him! Gaianus! Ghalib!'

'What else do you see?'

'Little boy.'

'Who?'

'A bomb. It looks like the one used in Hiroshima. It was called Little Boy.'

'Are you sure?' asked Martha.

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'Yes.'

'Anyone familiar near the bomb?'

'This can't be! No! You?'

'Relax--Vincent. Who are you seeing?'

'Jesus! Gaianus! Ghalib!'

'You see Jesus?'

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'Vincent. I need you to float above the scene. Speak to me in English, not Arabic!' instructed Martha.

'Hey, you! What are you doing? Think of what this will do to the world!'

'Who is saying this? To whom?'

Blank. Vincent was completely quiet.

Martha realised she had reached a blind spot. She continued, 'Moving forward . .

. one . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . five . . . where are you?'

'I can't say. It's deserted here. No food. No water. Corpses and vultures. It's as if the world has been laid waste byfire.'

'Is it war? Famine?'

'I warned everyone that religious polarisation was going to get us nowhere. No one listened. See what happened. We now have nothing left to fight over.'

'Can you identify the date?' asked Martha.

'An extremely close conjunction of the winter solstice sun with the crossing point of the galactic equator and the ecliptic path of the sun.'

'When is that, do you know?'

'21 December 2012.'

Pandit Ramgopal Prasad Sharma nodded; the very date that he had seen as the end of the world.

'What can you see?'

'The radiation produced by the explosions has destroyed all the vegetation.'

'What else?'

'Burning trees. Burning grass. Rivers and oceans of blood. Complete darkness.'

'Can you see anyone else?'

'I can see him.'

'Who?'

'The man who started it. The man who finished it.'

'What did he start or finish?'

'The end of the world.'

Waziristan, Pakistan-Afghanistan border, 2012

The Sheikh needed to reconfirm the contents of Ghalib's note. He asked his loyal attendant to fetch him his mirror. When this was in front of him, he held the note up and re-read it from the mirror image:

OH.IMAM.MY.OATH.TO.YOU

TO.HIT.ATOM.AT.ATOM.TWO

AIM.AT.THE.MOUTH.AIM.AT.THE.TEETH

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HIT.HIM.AWAY.WITH.WHITE.HOT.HEAT

AYE.WITH.MY.TOY.TIE.HIM.TO.WOE

TO.THY.WHIM.MY.YOUTH.I.OWE

OUT.WITH.HIM.OUT.WITH.ME

I.AWAIT.THY.TIME.TO.ATOMIZE.ME

Chapter Twenty-Five

Zurich, Switzerland, 2012

Herr Egloff, the investment advisor from Bank Leu, was sitting in the dining room of his chalet near Lake Aegiri consuming his usual breakfast of Birchermuesli mixed with fruit and yoghurt. This particular batch had been made with chopped filberts, chopped almonds, sweetened wheat germ, rolled oats, dried currants, and dried apricots. Herr Egloff attributed his good health to this wonderful concoction that had been invented by the renowned Swiss Dr Bircher-Benner.

The other reason for Herr Egloff's good health was the excellent state of his clients' portfolios. More specifically, the portfolio managed for Brother Thomas Manning.

A single-sheet summary lay on the dining table.

Next to it lay an unsigned draft press release. It spoke about a nuclear threat in the heart of the Middle East. The fallout of such an event would be a reduction in the production and supply of oil in the region. Prices would further rise. Brother Manning would be pleased.

Crude Oil Future Contract Number One that he had purchased for his clients at $51.06 per barrel was now trading at $203.11 per barrel.

He had made a similar investment for his biggest client, a radical outfit called the UNL Militia. Herr Egloff did not ask too many questions about where the money came from. It was just one of the reasons for his tremendous success.

Before doing anything else, he had an important assignment to carry out for His Eminence. He transferred $30,000 from the Oedipus account to that of Iscariot. He then took a phone call from Washington DC and transferred a million dollars from the UNL Militia to Iscariot.

Jerusalem, A.D. 27

Then went one of the twelve, who was called Judas Iscariot, to the chief priests.

And said to them: 'What will you give me, and I will deliver him unto you?' And they appointed him thirty pieces of silver.

Srinagar, Kashmir, India, 2012

She had come here to Srinagar to meet him. It had taken several months of effort to finally get him to agree on a deal. He was the junior assistant director of Archives, Archaeology, Research and Museums for Kashmir. His name was Yehuda Moinuddin a.k.a. CIA Trois a.k.a. Iscariot a.k.a. Judas.

As such, he had complete access to the former director's work--the work of Dr Fida M. Hassnain. A person listed in the Who's Who of archaeology and having complete control over the entire body of ancient Kashmiri documents. One of Dr 154

Hassnain's bestselling books had been A Search for the Historical Jesus, written in 1994. This phenomenal work of scholarship had contained tonnes of painstaking and verifiable research to prove that Jesus had not died on the cross and that he had spent the latter part of his life in Kashmir.

Yehuda had worked in this heady environment of scholarship and research for quite some time. Over many years he had absorbed each and every little detail that was available regarding the Jesus-in-Kashmir theory.

However, there was one extremely important difference between him and Dr Hassnain. Dr Hassnain was a true scholar. He was a Sufi, a mystical proponent of Islam, and was never out to discredit Jesus or the Christian faith. In fact, it was his love for Jesus Christ that made him want to distinguish fact from fiction. Yehuda Moinuddin, on the other hand, was a different matter. He was one of the key members of the Lashkar-e-Talatashar. He was Ghalib's most trusted aide, who managed all the financial matters of the group and lived on the houseboat Barabbas that belonged to Ghalib.

He was sitting in the balcony of the houseboat moored on the Dal Lake sipping a cup of kahwa, a delicate Kashmiri tea flavoured with saffron and almonds. 'I must find him before Vincent Sinclair and the others can reach him,' Swakilki said to him.

'I have spent the last two years researching everything there is to research on the subject. I already know whatever there is to know. I simply need to lead you to him. For that you must pay me my price.'

Swakilki handed over a thin white envelope containing a slip with an account number at the Bank Leu, Zurich. Yehuda Moinuddin took it and looked at the slip eagerly. Thirty thousand dollars. He smiled a sly smile of satisfaction. 'I won't confirm with Egloff because I trust you,' he said.

Swakilki shot back, 'You won't confirm because I can kill you.' He laughed. 'No, you won't. I'm the only one who can take you to him,' he said as he thought of the last meal he had with Ghalib.

Duly washed, they sat down and were served the lamb. Ghalib took the hot naan and, breaking it into pieces, lovingly served it to his men. He then spoke to Yehuda,'In Srinagar, there is a Japanese woman looking for me. You will go, find her, and tell her that you will deliver me to her.'

The trip westwards from Srinagar towards the Poonch district of Kashmir, along the Indo-Pakistan line of control, is very scenic. One necessarily has to travel through what is commonly called the 'Valley of Kashmir', a strip that is about eighty miles long and thirty-five miles wide, straddling the river Jhelum at an average elevation of 5,500

feet. Looking at the verdant hills and orchards and endless miles of swaying chinar trees, Swakilki found it difficult to understand how Bill Clinton could have called this 'the most dangerous place on earth'.

The rugged India-made Mahindra Commander 650, an extremely basic 4x4, was ideal for the difficult roads that they were traversing. Yehuda was at the wheel. Swakilki sat on the uncomfortable bench seat in the rear of the vehicle wearing an Afghan burqa that covered her entirely from head to toe. Swakilki was looking forward to finally being able to see the man in person.

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Vatican City, 2012

'One can never trust Muslims!' shouted His Eminence Alberto Cardinal Valerio.

Brother Thomas Manning was silent as he listened to Valerio venting his anger.

'We transfer funds from our Oedipus trust to the Isabel Madonna trust. We convince Dawood Omar to part with the first bomb of the series, only to be told that Osama plans to use Ghalib as the trigger! God curse his soul to eternal damnation!' he thundered. Silence greeted him.

'Don't you have anything to say? Do you realise what could happen to the Church if word got out?' he demanded furiously.

'Your Eminence . . .' began Thomas Manning.

'Yes. Say whatever you want quickly!'

'Does it matterwhether Ghalib is delivered to us alive or dead?' asked Manning delicately.

'What do you mean?' asked Valerio.

'Well, wasn't the intention of this exercise to prevent word from getting out that Christ had not died on the cross and that he had not been resurrected. Wasn't it our intention to ensure that the story we have fed our faithful flock for centuries remains intact?'

His Eminence wanted to be angry; instead, he smiled at Manning's logical mind.

Maryland, USA, 2012

Stephen Elliot and Prithviraj Singh were with their friend from Mossad, Zvi Yatom. They were not alone. Around fifty people were in the darkened room along with them. The poorly lit room had walls that were padded in dark velvet. The sweet smell of incense pervaded the atmosphere. The room was accessed through a single passageway, the entrance to which was camouflaged by a portrait of Benjamin Franklin, painted in 1759 by Benjamin Wilson. Inside the secret hall, one could observe in the dim light, thirteen passages that led to thirteen separate rooms. Each of these rooms was used for very specific ceremonies.

The Grand Master spoke. 'Achaita, divine revelation. Rome will pass away, Jerusalem will burn and the reason will become broken. And my Law, the Law of Zion, will be acclaimed by the whole of humanity.'185

'Achaita!' said all those gathered in unison.

'Oh Illuminated, Brothers and Sisters of the Great Hidden Lodge, of the Night, of the Star, of the Light! Zion is the Law!'

'Achaita!'

'Elevate and proclaim the Light, and break the chains of death, with the force Zion, oh Illuminated. I am the creator of worlds. I am the Great Architect of the Universe. Nations and governors are dust in front of me!'

'Achaita!'

'The next centuries and millennia will only know one word: Zion. And one Law: Zion. The next millennia will be of freedom and light, life and creation, love and kindness, under the Law of Zion, the Law of the Eternal One!'

'Achaita!'

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'Proclaim Zion, oh Illuminati, and lead the slaves to the footpath of freedom. The brave ones will be free and eternal, to image and similarity of God. The cowardly ones will die forgotten and surrounded in their chains of ignorance and sin!'

'Zion! Zion! Zion! Zion! Zion! Zion! Zion! Zion! Zion! Zion! Zion! Zion! Zion!'

The Grand Master, dressed in scarlet robes, thrust the knife into the dummy that had been placed on the large black granite slab in the centre of the room.

'Zion! Zion! Zion! Zion! Zion! Zion! Zion! Zion! Zion! Zion! Zion! Zion! Zion!'

After the dummy had been 'sacrificed', each member went up to the Grand Master, bowing and kissing the Grand Master's ring. As they kissed it, they swore their allegiance to Novus Ordem Seclorum, the New World Order.

'We have lost our colleague Terry Acton to the forces of the evil Church. Fear not! His sacrifice was not in vain. As we speak, the forces of Islam and the forces of Christianity are positioning themselves for the greatest conflict ever. At the end of this conflict, they will both destroy themselves. And then will arise the New World Order--the power of the Illuminati!'

Ceremony over, the Grand Master retreated through the secret passageway till it ended at the secret door that was camouflaged on the other side by the painting. The Grand Master placed both palms on the scanners by the sides of the entrance and waited till the door swung open.

The forty-fourth President of the United States of America then went and settled down behind the antique desk in the study of the official 125-acre retreat in the centre of Catoctin Mountain Park in Frederick County, Camp David.

The forty-fourth President, the SAS director Stephen Elliot, RAW chief Prithviraj Singh and Mossad operative Zvi Yatom were all peas from the very same pod.

The Illuminati.