I will not go through the various deceptions, assassinations, alliances, and betrayals that boiled in Jerusalem for the next several hundred years.
In 587 B.C., the Babylonians seized Jerusalem and razed the temple, taking the people into captivity. It is written that Jeremiah, a prophet, hid the Grail on Mount Nebo in the Abaraim Mountains. That is the last time the Ark or the Grail is mentioned in the Old Testament. A sect grew, the Essenes, who kept knowledge of the Grail’s location a secret. It is possible the Essenes were a group of Watchers.
And then the Romans came.
At first, the Romans came not as conquerors, but as allies. They were invited into Jerusalem, the lesser of the many enemies that had to be dealt with.
As expected, the Romans assumed more and more power, making the state a Roman vassal. And as expected, the Jewish people eventually rebelled.
And here you must bear with me. For I think there was a rebellion of another sort. That the inner priesthood, those who watched the Grail in secret chambers and kept it safe for hundreds and hundreds of years finally reached a state of desperation. I believe some of these priests were renegade Watchers, for as you will see later in my account, this was not to be the last time the Grail was sought as a solution to a current problem by those men who knew where the Grail was, hoping it could be used in their struggle, and perhaps the ultimate solution to stop both The Mission and The Ones Who Wait by renegade Watchers.
A figure arose in the land who became a leader, not by force of arms, but by preaching love and peace. He had knowledge beyond anything ever seen before.
And the Romans helped their lackeys kill him. But it was said he could not die.
Whether it was God or access to the Grail that brought this about I do not know and do not pretend to tell you.
It did not achieve the immediate desired result but it did change the course of man from then forward. History will give the final answer to this.
Che Lu pushed her chair back. She pressed her hands against her eyes and held them there. Yakov was silent. There was no longer the clack of Mualama’s keyboard — he too was sitting still, looking at the words he had translated. “Well.” Yakov’s voice shattered the silence, but no one went further than that. No one could. What they had just read was so overwhelming in its implications that there was another long silence.
They were all surprised when Che Lu spoke. “Nothing is as it seemed. Nothing.” She looked at the others, dismay all over her face. “Who are we? Where did we come from?”
“More importantly,” Yakov said, “who should we trust?”
“I think we should trust Artad,” Che Lu said. “From this journal, it appears he tried to do good.”
Yakov shook his head. “Not entirely. It looks to me as if both sides were manipulative and deceitful.”
“A war is coming,” Che Lu said. “Do you think we should align with Aspasia’s Shadow? Everywhere he has been, his influence was negative. Artad was only trying to stop him.”
“Why think a side has to be chosen?” Mualama asked. “Perhaps we have to fight both sides and be true to our species.”
“Artad unified China and led the building of the Great Wall,” Che Lu argued. “That is a far more positive thing than Aspasia’s Shadow is credited for.”
“We shall have to see what the rest of the manuscript has to say,” Mualama said.
The runway was blacked out, allowing the bouncer to arrive unseen except by the commando guards wearing night-vision devices. They had the airfield surrounded, guarding against attack out of the surrounding desert.
Turcotte watched through his own night-vision goggles the floor of the bouncer as the pilot gently set down the large containers holding the team’s equipment, released the lines, then floated the craft to the side and set it down. He was the first one out of the hatch, the rest of Graves’s team following.
A small group of men waited for them on the tarmac next to a dim light, just in front of the Combat Talon. Turcotte recognized the flight suits of the talon crew, but there was another man dressed in unmarked khakis also in the group.
The tallest of the men in the flight suits stepped forward as Turcotte approached. “Colonel Maher, pilot in command.”
Turcotte took the offered hand. “Mike Turcotte, mission commander.” The colonel didn’t bother to introduce the rest of his crew, instead ordering them to get the aircraft ready to take off. Graves’s team was already carrying the cases containing the TASC-suits and other gear over to the open back ramp of the aircraft.
That left the unidentified man in khaki, who finally spoke. “My name is Sherev.”
“We appreciate being allowed to use the airfield,” Turcotte said.
“That is not why I am here. I am from Dimona.”
Turcotte recognized the name and what was thought to be stored there — nuclear weapons. “What can I do for you?”
“There is a problem we have, that appears also to be your problem.” Sherev paused, as if considering what to say. “Someone in my government has given up two items that I think have something to do with your target.”
Turcotte waited, hoping Sherev would get to the point.
“I would not have allowed this to happen if I had known who was involved on the other end,” Sherev continued, “but I was cut out of the loop. It was only after the items were given up that I discovered who we were dealing with. Have you ever heard of a man named Al-Iblis?”
Turcotte felt a chill come over his body. “What did you give him?”
“Two artifacts from our archives at Dimona. They are known as thummin and urim. They are two stones, the exact nature of which we never ascertained.”
Turcotte remembered Che Lu mentioning those names. “When did he get them?”
“They were delivered to an intermediary in Jordan four hours ago. We were not able to track them further.”
“Why?” Turcotte asked. “Why did you do this?”
“Al-Iblis had Saddam Hussein assassinated as his part of this bargain. There were those in my country — powerful people — who felt the loss of two stones that were apparently not worth anything was an excellent trade.”
“They were wrong,” Turcotte said.
“I feared so. That is why I am here.”
A whine split the air as one of the Talon’s four turboprop engines came alive. Turcotte’s nostrils flared wide as the familiar smell of burning fuel wafted over him.
“What can you do for me?”
“I got you this airfield and you’ll get counter-electronic-warfare support from our experts all the way into your drop zone and we’ll cover the plane coming out,” Sherev said. “We have a bit more experience than your Air Force in infiltrating Egyptian airspace.”
“That will help. We’ll have an AWACS flying support so your people can coordinate through it.”
Sherev handed a small slip of paper to Turcotte. “That’s how you can get ahold of me via secure SATCOM.”
A second engine started.
“How did you know the deal was bad?” Turcotte asked.
“It has been my experience that no one offers something of value unless they can get something more valuable in turn.”
“So what are these stones?”
“They are Airlia artifacts,” Sherev said. “The rabbis believe they are an important part of the garments the High Priest wore when attending the Ark of the Covenant.”
The third engine was powered up, the noise making it difficult to talk, the wind blown back from the blades causing them to lean into it.
Sherev shouted. “It seems as if legends are coming alive.” Turcotte nodded, anxious to be going.
Sherev grabbed his arm. “Have you ever wondered why there has never been peace in this part of the world?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “There are evil forces about — these aliens and their human servants, I think they have spent much time here causing us grief. It is time we got rid of them. Anything you need, you call me.”