Ancients

7

Coalitionist Zoenfeller, representing Austria, and the members from India, Canada, and Poland, along with main council, sat in the main conference room of the factory. Caretaker was on the main monitor from a location other than Oslo.

The richly appointed area was semidark, which was close in color to the mood of the four men and one woman gathered there. In front of each of them sat open file folders that had been forward to them from the Coalition's new headquarters in Chicago. The information contained in the folders was an insult. It bordered on treason and had been done so brazenly that the gathered members actually feared for their lives for the first time since the thinly veiled coup had started.

William Tomlinson was declaring war on the world almost three full years ahead of the schedule set by the whole of the Coalition members five years earlier.

"Caretaker, we have the grounds to remove Mr. Tomlinson from the council and expunge him from the Coalition, do we not?"

The elderly man cleared his throat and looked uncomfortable on the monitor.

"You have the right of law on your side as set down by Juliai writ. However, you gentlemen and lady," Caretaker nodded in deference to the Indian representative, "I'm afraid you will not have the votes. Many of your colleagues have joined the young American in his actions. I have learned they are very close to finding one or even all of the Atlantean Keys."

Zoenfeller could not help but notice that Caretaker kept saying you and not us or we.

The old man picked an eight-by-ten photo from the file in front of him showing the aftermath of the Korean air attack on the American task force and slapped it with his fingers. "This is madness! The loss of life on those two American warships was horrendous! He is weakening someone the Coalition needs to maintain continuity in the world until we consolidate."

Knuckles rapped on the table in agreement.

"It's not I you have to convince. I would recommend, secretly of course, that you contact the members of the Coalition who are teetering on the fence. Get them to commit to a more subtle approach. For now I must take my leave." Caretaker reached to turn off his laptop camera.

"Where are you going? We have other matters to discuss," Zoenfeller said angrily.

"Until you do receive the needed support of the rest of the Coalition, I am obligated to advise only the ruling body of the council. Thus far, with all due respect of course, you are not it. I am sorry."

With that quick apology, the image of the Caretaker of Coalition law vanished. The four members looked at the table in stunned silence.

Without preamble, a six-sided monitor slid up in the middle of the conference table. The test signal was a sharp and clear picture of a golden eagle on a red background. It soon vanished and the concerned face of Tomlinson appeared on the screen.

"Good morning." He looked at his watch. "Awful late to have a meeting the rest of us weren't informed of, isn't it?"

"You have done a grievous injustice to our plans. You have moved on the leadership of Germany and Japan, who are now stunned and running scared," Zoenfeller said as he stood and leaned over the table, making sure that his face was framed in the camera lens on top of the monitor.

"They are not running anywhere. Germany's replacement, a Coalition designee, is already in place. He has already issued a statement saying all is well, assuring the German people that the terrorist element he is holding responsible for the assassination will face swift German justice. Japan in the meanwhile has but one choice in this matter and can only turn to our candidate in the next few days. By Japanese law, they can do nothing else."

"You're going to bring the entire free world down around our heads!"

"You're worried about the attack on the American task force? Well, even that has its benefits. While it weakened the NATO response in Korea, it has also guaranteed Kim Jong Il's destruction sooner, rather than later."

"And how is that--by giving them the military courage to cross the border?"

"Exactly. The American theater commander, once the Second Infantry Division and its South Korean allies are overrun, will have no choice but to deploy battlefield nuclear weapons to stop them. As for Russia and China, they will soon cease to be of concern, as their countries lie in ruins, smashed beyond all ability to govern their own populations. There will be no assistance rendered to North Korea by her allies."

Zoenfeller sat back heavily in his chair, amazed at the calm demeanor Tomlinson was showing.

"After that, the assassinations will continue in later weeks until we have all of our people in place in the capitals of the West, and then our two-thousand-year-old charter will be fulfilled. We will have done what every Coalition Council has failed to do since the time of Julius Caesar. It gives me chills to think it was our Council that did this great feat."

The elder members looked horrified but remained silent.

"When the great Julius Caesar threw off the shackles imposed on him by the weaker members of our Ancient family, he couldn't have the foresight to believe the power his children would someday wield. His murderers, in their vain attempt to stop his desire for one rule for all the people, have finally led us to this momentous occasion."

Zoenfeller tried one final effort to bring the lion of the Coalition to the table of reason.

"Surely we can wait until the Atlantean Key is recovered. If we continue to accelerate beyond planning, things could spiral out of control and these great dreams of finally gaining all that was lost by our ancestors fifteen thousand years ago will be lost, possibly forever."

Tomlinson smiled and then looked into the camera. He now had Zoenfeller and the others right where he wanted them, and he would use the old man's fears and words to silence his voice in the Coalition forever.

"The recovery of the plate map is happening as we speak. The Atlantean Key will be found in no more than a week, and then our greatest enemies will be bashed to pieces by the very earth they walk upon."

"You have already been found out!" the old man said incredulously as he lost all control.

"You are referring to the supposed audiotape of the wave?" He laughed, and then he seemed to look into the monitor hard enough that the members thought he was staring directly into their souls. "The aerial platform will no longer be used. We will not need it. With the tone receptors already in place, we will strike at the world from a lair they would never, could never find--the very birthplace of the Wave itself."

Tomlinson saw the look of utter surprise on their faces. Even a few of his junior members were stunned.

"That's right. We have not only succeeded in finding part of the Ancients' city intact, we have already started naval operations to use the sunken city to conduct operations against Russia and China, even the United States, from one and a half miles below the floor of the Mediterranean."

Zoenfeller slammed his aged hand against the polished tabletop. "No! We won't allow it. If you destroy Russia and China, they will react. There are always survivors to a massacre and believe me they will want retribution. You have taken a carefully orchestrated plan and accelerated it until no one in the world will believe the Wave was a natural occurrence. We will stop you."

William Tomlinson smiled and leaned back in his overly large chair.

"I understand your timidity. All four of you have the Coalition's respect and gratitude for assisting us in planning the new order. I have tried to keep you informed out of respect, but we will not allow you to betray the new reich. From the time of Caesar, through the Crusades, Napoleon, and even Hitler, we have strived to bring a sense of justice and continuity to all people and eliminate those that curse the name of order, that Gaius Julius Caesar saw in the barbarians of the world. Now, at the very moment of triumph, you have failed our cause. Old friends, you are hereby expunged from the Juliai Coalition. Your services to the Ancients will be remembered with honor and respect. Good-bye."

The monitor went dead. There was not even the image of a blank signal on in Tomlinson's place. Every member present on both sides of the Atlantic knew what was about to happen. It did not take long.

There came a light knock on the door. Without waiting for permission to enter, a thin man dressed in an Armani suit stepped in. He looked around the meeting room and then half bowed and then closed the door.

"I am here to accept your last requests, which will be written out on the notepads in front of you," he said with a thick Spanish accent.

Zoenfeller closed his eyes, and the others, including the woman from India, just stared at the man sent to kill them.

"I ask that you believe me when I say it is an honor to be chosen for this duty. You in this room are much respected, and Mr. Tomlinson offers his sincere gratitude for all that you have done for the cause."

They all saw that the man actually managed to look magnanimous and sorrowful as he pulled a large handgun from his suit jacket.

Tomlinson leaned back in his chair, knowing that he would never have to deal with the older faction of the Coalition again. Since the formation of the Coalition, after the split of the Ancients, never had they been so close to finalizing the plans for the formation of one order to rule all.

Tomlinson knew that some thought him mad or at the very least unbalanced. They also knew that he was the only man capable of carrying out the dreams of Julius Caesar and his original ancestors. Caesar had been a man of vision who wanted nothing more than justice for the children of the Ancients, to once again live in a world ruled by men of vision and race responsibility.

The thought that maybe theirs was a warped and intolerant view never entered their thinking. Tomlinson always tempered the argument with his own: absolutely nothing in this world had worked as men thought it would. Pure races and economic power equaled stability the likes of which the world had not known since the time of the Atlanteans. He was not a hater of lesser people. On the contrary, Tomlinson knew that every race had its place in the order of things, just as his ancestors and Julius Caesar had envisioned. They just could not be expected to reach beyond their grasp. The Coalition would be there to make sure they were fed, clothed, entertained, and taken care of. Their positions would be those of servants of the order and they would be happier for it.

His assistant who entered the office and made his way to the large desk interrupted his thoughts. That was when he noticed that Caretaker had not left after the meeting. He just sat quietly in the corner, watching him. Tomlinson looked at him and Caretaker just nodded his head.

"Sir, these were faxed to you earlier during your meetings. I thought you might be interested."

Tomlinson accepted the clear folder and then excused his assistant. As he opened it, he momentarily turned his attention back to Caretaker.

"I'm sorry, I thought you had left. Can I help you with something?"

"As you must be aware, sir, as Caretaker of the law of the Juliai, I am obligated to remain at the chairman's side until dismissed for personal down-time. That is the way of things."

"I see. I didn't realize I'd been elected to such an exalted office."

"You haven't been. But I, like yourself, am a realist, and I feel it is only a matter of time before such distinctions are finalized."

As Tomlinson pulled the pages from the envelope, he had to stop and look closer at the older man before him. The surprise on his face was hard to hide.

"I would have thought you would be leaning more toward the letter of Juliai law. So you think we are taking the right path by moving forward with the attacks?"

"No, sir, it is not that at all. My job is to make sure you follow the path of the Coalition and its aims. You have not deviated from that as of this moment."

"Good, I am--"

"However, that does not presuppose that your plan will succeed. If there is a setback in finding the plate map, or the Atlantean Key, the plan must be terminated immediately. Then, after time has passed, a new council will start afresh. I believe that is a fair interpretation of Coalition mandate. The whole must be protected at all costs."

"You have made your point. Now, if you will excuse me, I have business to attend to that does not concern Coalition mandates."

Caretaker stood, buttoned his jacket, and left the office.

Tomlinson stared at the closed door for a brief moment and then looked at the faxed pages.

The photos were the first to catch his eye. The three men captured in them were formidable in stature. The notes tagged to each of the five photos said that they had possibly been involved with the raid in Westchester; thus, these men might have been connected with the botched attempts to collect the Key in Ethiopia. Dahlia claimed, in her attached note, that it was a logical step in the chain of actions to this point. She also wrote that she was hoping to run into these three again.

Another note was attached, reiterating what she had told him earlier about tracing the plate map to Hawaii. She foresaw no problems in attaining the artifact soon.

The second note had been timed thirty minutes after the first. This one made Tomlinson clench his teeth. He was not used to Dahlia making errors in judgment, but this time she had. Instead of making sure that Keeler's journal contained the complete list of the remaining Ancients, she had killed the man. She informed him that Keeler had ripped out the last page with the names of the surviving members of the children of Atlantis.

"Damn," he said as he laid down the note. The fact that they had missed a chance to rid the world of the remaining few old ones made his skin crawl.

As he shook his head, the picture of one man in particular caught his attention and he picked up the close-up taken from the second floor. The man looking out the landing window was a serious-looking man who was different from his companions: he was more focused as he looked around. This intrigued Tomlinson and he felt a chill pass through him as he memorized the face.

"If Dahlia is right, you have cost me valuable time, my friend," he said as his index finger popped against the fax paper right over the face of Jack Collins.

Jack Collins and Carl Everett were waiting for the Europa technician to arrive from the computer center. Pete Golding was angry that he had to release one of his people from duties involving the investigation of the seismic occurrences, but he calmed significantly when he was told that it was Jack requesting the Cray-computer time to assist in the New York incident.

Everett looked at his watch, furious that it was taking so long. Jack, meanwhile, was calm, his face showing none of the angst that Everett was dealing with.

"Damn techs, they think they run this place."

Collins finally looked at him without much emotion. "They do run this place."

"Yeah, I guess so."

Finally, the elevator that led down to the clean room opened and a familiar face stepped out.

"Ah, shit," Everett mumbled under his breath as he rubbed his forehead.

Dr. Gene Robbins was the assistant director of the computer center under Pete Golding. His performance in the use of the supercomputer Europa in the Event with the UFO a couple of years back had endeared him to Niles and the rest of the sciences departments. But he was a royal pain in the rear as far as Europa protocols were concerned, as Jack and Carl had found out personally.

The bespectacled Robbins looked up and grunted. "I should have known."

"Look, Doc, we don't have time for all of this clean-room stuff. We shaved this morning and are ready to go," Carl said as Robbins slid his ID card into the electronic lock beside the door.

"Gentlemen, today you don't have to put so much as a lab coat on." He opened the door and then stepped aside to allow the two very shocked men into the sanctuary that housed the Cray supercomputer Europa.

"What happened, Doc, you get electrocuted or something? I mean, you're almost like the rest of us humans."

Robbins pulled out one of the eight chairs that sat in front of the thick glass that housed Europa and her automatic program-loading system. He hesitated for a moment and then removed his glasses to look at the two men.

"Colonel Collins, Captain Everett, I requested this detail from Pete Golding. Sergeant Sanchez was always kind to us when he was on duty in the comp center. You see, while you only suspect we are human, he actually treated us as such." He placed his glasses back on and almost choked on the rest of his words. "He was my friend."

Jack stood silent and Carl felt like an ass. He just nodded and sat next to Robbins.

"He was a better and kinder soul than most of us jerks, Doc."

Jack nodded at Everett and took his seat.

"Think we start by digging into the New York Police Department files on the attack at the warehouse? Then maybe their crime-scene computer reports, blood type, ballistics, things like that?" Jack asked Robbins, who was already logging in to Europa.

Before Robbins answered, the large steel partition behind the wall of glass slid up, and Europa was there in all her glory. The automated loading system was idle, but her brain used her enhanced optics to view the three men.

"Good morning Dr. Robbins. I see we have company from the Security Department today. Colonel Collins, Captain Everett, how may I help you?"

Carl rolled his eyes at the female auditory system. He still wanted to get to know the person whose voice had been synthesized, because she sounded just like Marilyn Monroe.

Jack leaned forward in his chair and spoke into the microphone.

"Europa, we have lost many people to an act of murder and have many things to investigate and we will need you to break the security guarding police systems. We must find the people responsible for the deaths of Event Group staff. Is this understood?"

Robbins was curious as to why she didn't respond directly. The automated loader sprang into action as the robotic arms manufactured by the Honda Corporation started sliding programs into the bank of hard drives.

"Europa is ready to seek out your requested inquiries, Colonel. Shall we begin?"

Robbins smiled and looked at Everett.

"Europa was well aware of the murders because she references every daily newspaper in the world. She obviously knew the names listed in the reporter's story as killed and crossed them with her data files. She knows Event personnel have been lost."

Jack gripped the small microphone in front of him tightly at its base. His knuckles turned white as the pressure increased, but his calm features never changed.

"Yes, let's begin."

Sarah McIntire was getting frustrated with the twenty-five people in her group. Theories, no matter how far out, were discussed, and one by one they all lost credence.

Most present were of the opinion that earthquakes could not be manipulated short of placing a nuclear weapon beneath a fault line. Sarah thus far had to agree. Every computer model that Europa had built for them had failed. It was beginning to look as if they'd hit a dead end.

Virginia came into the room and kneeled next to Sarah's chair, and listened to the current argument of hydrodynamics and its effect on fault lines.

"Most fault lines are stable to the point where we would almost have to call them extinct, just a gouge in the earth's surface. While others, like the San Andreas, for instance, are active as hell. But we still couldn't get it to move unless the forces beneath it forced her to, by pushing water through the strata, weakening it, or an outright eruption of magma."

Sarah listened to the young professor from Virginia Tech whom the Group had recruited to earth sciences over a year ago. Then she smiled when Virginia mouthed the words keep at it and then moved to the door.

Sarah saw the young, long-haired scientist stand and go to the wall and pull down a large chart. It was a color picture of the earth laid out flat. Several hundred red lines were depicted as they coursed through the continents and oceans. They swirled and eddied, going in no particular direction.

"As you see, it's not just the fault lines around the world. It is my opinion that you have to attack not the faults, but the very plates beneath them that make the faults on the surface unstable."

Sarah closed her eyes. Something about the professor's explanation danced in her memory. She opened her eyes and looked at the chart that showed the world's known fault lines, but couldn't for the life of her remember what it was she had seen that connected the dots for her. She let the thought slip her mind as disagreement exploded in the room.

Jack watched as Europa entered three programs. Robbins did not understand what it was Collins was digging for. Even Carl was growing concerned.

"Europa, query: the two weapons recovered from the crime scene. They are definitely not in the inventory of Department 5656?"

"According to armory records, one Beretta 9-millimeter, serial number 587690, one Ingram automatic pistol, serial number 153694073-2, were not listed as issued to Department 5656."

Jack had one answer after hours of dead ends.

"Query: are you still into the ATF mainframe, Europa?"

"Yes, Colonel Collins."

"Can you check serial numbers against the two weapons you just gave us for stolen data?"

"Items were listed by ATF as destroyed by reclamation, batch number 45786-B90, on December 3, 1999."

"Both weapons were listed together in the same destruct batch?"

"Now that's weird. What would you say the odds were on that?" Carl commented.

"I wouldn't care to bet," answered Robbins.

"Europa, query: how many weapons in the ATF destruction batch dated 12-03-99?"

"Two thousand five-hundred, maximum weight allowance for melting furnace."

"Someone crooked at ATF, Jack?"

"Okay, we know where two of the weapons used against our people came from, but what in the hell does that get us?" Jack asked, instead of answering Carl's question.

"Europa, query: have you yet acquired access to the NYPD mainframe?" Collins asked.

"Yes, access was gained through unsecured backdoor in Albany, New York, used for the NYPD Widows Welfare Fund."

"Pretty good," Everett said, looking at Robbins.

"She has her ways," he said proudly.

"Has a ballistics report been issued on bullets removed from Event personnel?" Jack continued.

"A report has been generated by the team of officers assigned to case number 4564893-23 for Boston Police Department Robbery-Homicide Special Investigations Division."

"Why Boston?" Robbins asked, and then caught himself. "Europa, query: is there a case in Boston that warranted such a request for ballistics information?"

"Boston Police Department requested any ballistics match through the National Crime Database and received the NYPD report. Expended 5.56, 7.56 and 9 millimeter ammunition used in NYPD report matched exact specifications of ballistics report generated by Boston Police, Robbery-Homicide, dated this day."

"The bastards hit someone else up in Boston, Jack," Everett said as he leaned closer to the glass.

"Europa, query: is there a report of the crime filed by BPD?" Collins asked hurriedly.

"Formulating."

As the three men watched, crime-scene photos started to pop up at an incredible rate on the large monitor screen. Scenes of murder filled the frames. The corpses lay on bloodstained carpets in grotesque stillness.

"My God," Dr. Robbins said aloud.

"Looks familiar," Jack said beneath his breath.

"Europa, query: what is the location of the Boston crime scene?"

"Crime committed at the law offices of Evans, Lawson and Keeler, Attorneys at Law, located at 4967 Wayland Avenue, Boston. Thirty-seven known deaths occurred at approximately one forty-five Boston time."

"Europa, query: any motive stated for the murders at this time?" Everett asked, heading Jack off.

"Robbery has been listed as motivation for the deaths."

"Round up Mendenhall and Ryan, tell them we're taking a quick trip out to Boston. I want to see could have been so important that these bastards committed another slaughter of innocent people. Tell them to draw side arms and ammo from the armory. Inform Alice we need ATF identification. That should get us through the front door of wherever we need to go."

"You got it," Everett said.

"Is there anything I can do, Colonel?" Robbins asked hopefully.

"You've done enough, Doc. Just get back to Pete and help him. He seems lost without you in the comp center."

"Colonel, you watch your ass. From the looks of things, whoever these people are, they don't let anyone get in their way."

"Hmm, I know some people just like that, Doc."

Robbins watched the colonel leave and knew exactly whom Jack had meant. Everett joined Collins at the door and the two men left together to meet up with Ryan and Mendenhall.

"Yeah, I guess we do have people that are just as serious as those murdering pukes," Robbins said to himself and then closed the terminal with Europa.