The Swords of Babylon

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Russell Cayman had finally come face to face with the true leader of the Shadow Elite. The man’s real name was Zak Block and he welcomed Cayman into his home, explained himself thoroughly, and truly communicated with him as an equal. Times were hard indeed for the Shadow Elite.

The last remaining member of the secret society that ran the world had called in every favor he had ever been owed. His power had been diminished by the loss of his figurehead — the Norseman — and the other members. Many of his contacts had chosen the opportunity to melt away, to cover their tracks, but Block had reached out like never before, reconnecting with the most powerful, the most vulnerable, clawing in every sinner he could find like a devil reaching up from the lowliest pits of hell. His resources were still almost bottomless, enabling him to find many willing partners to walk the jewel-encrusted path to purgatory.

This empire would rise anew. It would be bigger than the first. He would not let it fail again.

On Wednesday, Cayman had sat opposite him, having first deposited the many bones of Kali, carefully wrapped, in an adjoining room. “She has watched over me.”

“As have we.” Block showed no prejudice at Cayman’s words. “We never went away, Russell. We delved ourselves even deeper and returned armed with much more than a chest full of treasure.”

“I need no treasure.”

“Oh, I know. But I could give you the Singen tomb to make your home. What do you think of that?”

Cayman stiffened. It was all he would ever need.

“The doomsday device is the fastest way to regain control of the world,” Block said. “For that I need you, Kali, and one other man of like mind.”

“The pieces of Odin were destroyed,” Cayman said. “Along with the Norseman. What can I do?”

“You will walk the path, Russell. I will see to it. You and Kali will prepare the way.”

“How?”

“We will activate the device, then shut it down. We will show the world our intent and make it squirm at our feet.”

“You sound like one of the Singen gods,” Cayman pointed out.

“I know.” Block grinned agreeably, completely missing Cayman’s meaning.

Cayman had lost none of his investigative prowess during the last few months. “So you’re saying there’s another way to activate the device?”

“Isn’t there always? Of course. Russell, I have men everywhere, you know that. My network of informants, of paid lurkers, of inside men, is wider and far deeper than that of the intelligence agency you once worked for, and any other you could care to mention. Previously, I used the Shadow Elite to help cloak my dealings. Now,” he shrugged, “I no longer have that luxury. But I can rebuild.”

“You have a spy inside the CIA?”

“I have half a dozen. But that is not where my information came from.”

Cayman knotted his brow. “Ah, the tombs themselves?”

“The horse’s mouth is, as ever, the richest procurer of information. My experience has always been — if you need to know something important, go straight to the source, don’t waste your time buying third parties or paying off spies. But Russell, I find myself troubled. I am used to being the man in charge, the man who supervises the supervisor, not the worker and doer of deeds.”

Cayman nodded. He knew a little of this man’s past and his overwhelming passion. Zak Block had spent many years studying people, all types of people, and cataloguing their reactions to different scenarios, by living amongst them. He had engineered life-altering events for ordinary people just so he could observe how it affected them. His study of human nature had come to an abrupt end when the Shadow Elite fell, dragging him away from his latest and last premise in faraway Blackpool, UK.

“I understand, sir.”

“Well, we will all have our roles.” Block shrugged. “You. I. The third man. The cells I am setting up even now to help safeguard our venture. But to help me, you must first understand what has happened. As I mentioned, I have several informers scattered amongst the three tombs of the gods, covering the many skillsets being employed within. My thoughts are that the tombs are being discovered anew every single day, thus giving us the endless potential for new revelations. This view is also held by many of the free world’s governments. They are all over this like carrion worrying at a carcass. My men are experts in their fields, true leaders, thus giving me the edge, I believe.”

Cayman nodded at the pause, wondering if Block’s new found penchant for anxiety stretched to reassurance too. He sipped from a bottle of water, casting a furtive glance toward the room where Kali lay in pieces. It had been hours since he had last admired her.

“With that in mind, it should come as no surprise to learn that my translator of the gods’ languages working inside the Icelandic tomb made an enormously significant discovery a few days ago.” Block licked his lips and smiled icily. “A discovery that he brought straight to my attention.”

“And only he made this discovery?” Cayman tried hard not to make his voice sound skeptical.

“They have four translators working shifts in there. It’s a substantial job. Once they have passed the security checks, these professors and super-geeks are trusted and left to work as they prefer.”

“Alone?”

“Yes, Russell, alone. Mr Jakob Hult always works alone, for obvious reasons.” Block was starting to sound annoyed so Cayman let him speak, moving slightly to keep Kali’s bones within his line of sight.

Block closed his eyes and started to recite from memory, the slight smile on his face showing he savored every single word, “‘And though Odin’s device shall need His nine pieces to activate’.” Block stopped there. “Activate is the wrong word, but my translator assures me it is the closest alternative. ‘There shall remain one more way, this being a double failsafe for Odin and his Gods. And so… place three like minds in three separate tombs with three separate parts of the same God. And thus, this way too, there are nine parts. Do this, and the device shall activate, joining the vortexes, and burning the world to ashes’.” Block stopped expectantly.

Cayman thought it through. “Why is it a double failsafe?”

“Because it’s a second way to activate the device and we also need three men, separated, all with like minds. I guess it’s like not allowing one man to have his hands on the nuke codes.”

“And the vortexes?”

Block pulled a face. “That’s one thing we haven’t fathomed yet.”

Cayman stared at Kali’s bones. “You want to divide her up?”

“It’s the only way. I don’t want to start smuggling gods’ bones out of the tombs, not when we have one right here. And Cayman, you will be a big part of this. A big, bright shining part. Think of the reward.”

Cayman was thinking of the reward. The rest of his life, in solitude, living amongst the vile and sinful, immorally infused old bones of the worst gods in history. “The end justifies the means, I guess.”

“Oh, it does.” Block’s smile widened. “Imagine our power. Mightier than ever before. Once we hold the key to the device we will own everything.”