The Solomon Key (35 page)

As the American ambassador to France, Franklin’s ideas can be credited, to a large degree, for leading to the French Revolution. And since Franklin managed to get the King of France to fund America’s revolution, it’s ironic that its success later inspired the very revolution in France that overthrew the King!

The Currency Act of 1774 plunged America into depression and led to the revolution...

The raindrops were falling more regularly now, and Scott was forced to randomly skim the rest of the book.

…Thomas Paine, a friend of Franklin and a Mason, wrote “Common Sense” and helped inspire the American Revolution… Voltaire was a Mason, and his writings helped lead to French Revolution…

…The “virtuous” revolution was, however, something new. No one had ever thought it okay and proper to rebel against kings that were supposedly appointed by God…

…Manly P. Hall stated that the secret societies helped establish the country for the peculiar purpose that was known only to the initiated…

…During the American Revolution, there existed a secret order in Germany that many believe was responsible for most of the wars and conspiracies that took place over the next few hundred years. General William Huntington Russell created the Order as a means to reconcile the esoteric orders with the mainstream European movements, since he believed that Rosicrucianism and Freemasonry started to drift away from its roots. He brought his Order to North America, and we know it now as Skull and Bones… Keep that in mind as we look further into the role revolution plays within the establishment of the New Order...

…Intended to change the organized system of religion and government, the revolutionary ideology of the 18th and 19th centuries was shaped by German occultism and not just the rationalism of the French Enlightenment…

Scott forced himself to slow down when he saw stuff about Pythagoras again, how he was driven from Greece to southern Italy and had purportedly established a religious-philosophical brotherhood that was intended to transform society. Isaiah then revealed the relation between Pythagoras and the French Revolution by pointing out that Pythagorean symbols dominated the revolution, that Adam Weishaupt — the leading revolutionary/Bavarian lawmaker who founded the Illuminati — wrote a blueprint for politicized Illuminism during the first years of the revolution that he called “Pythagoras.” And though the Illuminati was disbanded by the Bavarian government in 1786, their doctrines made it all the way to America, for in a response letter written by George Washington to Rev. G. W. Snyder (who sent Washington a copy of Robison’s
Proofs of a Conspiracy against All the Religions and Governments of Europe
), Washington admitted that he was in fact persuaded of the Illuminati’s active presence within America. He also associated the Illuminati with Jacobinism, the radical group that was responsible for starting the French Revolution.

…But, in point of fact, the Illuminati was the power behind the Jacobins! The Bavarian Illuminati put a “fire in the minds of men,” compelling them to join in the global revolution that would change the world! But can we show that this was intended to be America’s role? Let us consider that the Jacobean hat is found on the seal of the US Army, on several other figures of liberty within the Capitol Building, and all over the Library of Congress. And just what is the Jacobean hat? The Phrygian cap, dating back to ancient Rome and said to have been worn by the slaves who had obtained their freedom, became the symbol of liberty.

It is also associated with Ganymede, the mythical figure carried away by Zeus and made cup-bearer to the gods, Zeus giving him a place within the heavens where he became the constellation Aquarius. It is worth mentioning now, though it will become of greater importance and textual relevance later on, that throughout the 20th century, esoteric teachers have declared that mankind is now in the process of entering this New Age, or the Age of Aquarius… The caps are depicted in paintings as being worn by the Magi who followed the star to Christ (though Freemasonry teaches that this star was Sirius and that the Magi were followers of Zoroaster, it is more likely that they were simply in the east when they saw the star in the west, and that they were biblical scholars well versed in Daniel’s prophecies)…

Benjamin’s words came scrolling back through his mind.
How could one know all that the Devil has been up to for the last six thousand years, and that within every society of which he has been working to prepare the way?

The heavens opened, and Scott closed the cover on a subject that his mind wanted to reject as sheer nonsense. But the day in which he lived made such an easy dismissal almost impossible. At least he now understood what Isaiah was trying to tell him about the Rosicrucians, and what Father Baer’s warning was meant to be. The rose and the cross. The deception lurking within the shadows of a patriotic religion. Satan’s workings throughout the centuries to bring about the platform on which his New Order would arise, the promise of liberty his
modus operandi
...

Tucking the book beneath his jacket, he ran down the main street and made it to the tent just as thunder shook the forest. As he walked past Mossad agents planning their attack on the prison camp, he subconsciously felt the form of the phone through his jeans, the same phone Malachi told him to get rid of. But he couldn’t do that. Not just yet.

“Hey.”

Scott looked up and saw Malachi coming into the tent.

“It’s confirmed.”

And he sat up straight, everything he’d just read disappearing like a shadow struck by light. “What’s confirmed?” His heart was racing.

“She’s there. Your wife, Jennifer May Cavanaugh. She’s in the prison.”

“The same one?”

Malachi nodded.

For some reason, warning bells started going off in Scott’s head, but he ignored them, the desire to save his wife and the hope he could once again be with her blinding him to anything negative. He
needed
it to be true. “So you’ll help me?”

“If you help us.”

“When?”

“Tonight.”

36

T
hey were on foot, all fifteen of them, and well into the five mile journey to the prison camp. The rain had turned to sleet as the sun dipped below the earth, and now, within the pitch black hours of night, big flakes of snow were beginning to flutter through the trees. They were all in black and equipped with silenced weapons and grenades, their night-vision gear transforming the darkness into green daylight. The idea was simple: neutralize the prison’s guards, infiltrate the structure, and find the scientist. And somewhere in there they would find Scott’s wife. Once she was secured, they would fade back into the night.

Or something like that.

But as Scott followed the men in front of him, concerns were being raised by his conscience — concerns about the fate of the prisoners they’d be leaving behind and of the community that was sure to be targeted as a result of their raid. Malachi would use the old adage, “the end justifies the means,” or the one about the greater good. Both of which could not erase the simple fact that real innocent people were going to be slaughtered. He adjusted the silenced submachine gun that was slung over his shoulder.

The Mossad had equipped him with black attire — jacket, pants, boots, flight gloves, and ski mask. They’d also given him the submachine gun, a silenced pistol, three grenades, a combat shotgun, and two knives. Clips for the submachine gun were tucked in sleeves across his chest, shotgun shells and clips for the pistol filled the ammo belt hanging low around his waist, and a knife was positioned at the base of his spine, another strapped to his ankle.

It was around 3:00 AM by the time they reached the edge of the woods, the fence enclosing the camp just beyond. The snow was falling hard now, covering the distant mountains and the evergreens descending their sides in sheets of white. There was an open space of one hundred yards between their position at the edge of the woods and the fence running below the two guard towers in the corners of the camp closest to them. But the cloud cover would prevent night’s silver light from reflecting off the snow beneath their feet, and the heavy snowfall would hide their approach while also covering their tracks. Not that the guards in the towers would even be looking in their direction. They were there to monitor the happenings within the camp, not to protect it from some unknown enemy outside.

Scott tried to recall his bird’s eye view of the camp from earlier in the day. He knew the train tracks ran east to west and passed the prison’s entrance, and that the large loading platform stretched along most of the front fence. Three large antechambers were constructed on top of the platform and led to fenced off areas within the camp, separating the men, women, and children. He shuddered, thinking of Jennifer stepping off the train and onto the platform, being separated and herded toward one of the three tunnels like an animal, standing in a line with women screaming for their husbands and children.

Malachi gave a signal, and everyone readied their weapons. Another signal, and they were moving out.

They took off in a straight line, moving fluidly as a single shadow gliding across the white floor. The two guards up in the towers were dead before the Mossad team even reached the fence, which wasn’t electrified and proved easy enough to cut through with a pair of bolt cutters.

Once through the fence, two of the men immediately broke off in opposite directions toward the guard towers they’d just cleared, each climbing up into position. Then they coordinated a silenced attack on the guards that were standing in the two remaining towers across from them on the other side of the compound.

Scott and the other dozen men stood still beside the fence, waiting for the towers’ new occupants to signal that it was clear.

“
Two targets, northwest corner.
”
The whispered voice crackled over the radio from one tower to the other.

“
Affirmative. One southwest, another walking your way.
”

“
Got him.
”

Scott saw a muzzle flash up in the northeast tower. Then another. Two seconds later, and after a shot from the other tower, a third and final flash blinked through the quiet night.

“
All clear.”

“All clear.”

Scott followed the men in front of him to the southern corner of a large warehouse. From there they could see the front of the camp, the train tracks on the outside of the fence and the loading platform stretching out past the three antechambers to meet them. Scott could see signs on the fence designating specified zones. But whether they were for new arrivals or those moving on, he didn’t know.

They broke into groups, one group heading for the other towers, another to search for the scientist, and the third group to find the computers. Scott was on the team designated to find the computers, hoping for a record of interns.

Malachi was in front of him, two others behind. He had the submachine gun up tight against his shoulder, sweeping it back and forth through the night. They were moving north toward the back of the camp, making their way between the warehouse on their right and a few other buildings to their left, one of which was two stories high, its windows boarded up with plywood.

The ground they were traversing was void of any other footprints, and Scott thought that strange. Just four guards in the towers, a handful of waltzing soldiers, no electric current running through the fence, no lights, and no LZ for a helicopter? No wind markers, no dogs…

They came upon a row of trailers lined up against the back fence, one of which had a light glowing from inside. Malachi ran up the wooden steps leading to the trailer’s door and spun his back up against the wall beside it.

Scott went to the opposite side of the door where he could try the handle. It was unlocked. He pushed the door open a centimeter, just far enough so the latch remained free from the wall. A line of light filled the crack. He flicked the night-vision off.

He raised a finger. Two. Three.

He kicked the door open and spun back out of the doorway as Malachi quickly went in with the other two agents on his heels, their silenced weapons coughing.

By the time Scott got in after them, an NAU officer was lying on the floor next to a desk, blood pooling around his head. The room contained some filing cabinets, a bookshelf, and a multi-touch desk that was already being worked on by an Israeli agent.

As everyone stood around the computer table, Scott went back to the door and stared out across the grounds, thinking. He remembered the agent in the helicopter telling him the camp was positioned over an underground facility…

“I’m in,” declared the one working the touchpad.

Scott turned and looked at him, held his breath.

“Melisa Strauss,” Malachi whispered, pointing at the image before them.

Scott took a step toward them. “What did you say?” He walked over to the desk, suspicion in his eyes. “What’s going on?” He found it hard to believe that the very woman who’d stolen the ring from the government just so happened to be here too.

Malachi’s gaze lifted to take in Scott’s concern. “She was the one who brought the ring into the country. She was part of the research team preparing a diagnostic report on it for the NAU.”

“I know who she is.”

“She could know how it works.”

Because the Messiah wouldn’t be able to figure it out when He got here, would He? “Where is she?”

The guy at the desk answered. “General population. The ground floor of the two-story building.”

Scott pointed back to the monitor. “And what about my wife?”

His fingers danced over the glass surface, each letter button he pressed lighting up in response. He shook his head. “She’s not listed here.”