Excerpted from 'The Serpent's Seed' by David Maring.
Chapters 1-4
PROLOGUE
The Fallen Angel, given the name Serpent by man, looked at the earth spinning
on its axis. How many eons had elapsed since he corrupted God’s plan by sowing
his seed within the Maker’s creation.
The Serpent looked forward to the events described in Revelation, when he
would return and exercise dominion over the earth.
God, bound as with a chain by the irrevocable spirit of free will given to the
creatures below, watched from the heavens.
CHAPTER 1
Timbuktu was once a center of learning that boasted a library in ancient times
rivaled only by those existing in Alexandria and Rome. Political upheaval contributed
to the city’s downfall, but the changing climate provided its death knell.
The approaching sands threatened to bury what remained of this once great civilization.
In the underground basement of this former great library, on a hot windy day
in June, Professor William Weston discovered the map; his goal at last accomplished
after years of tedious work. No longer would he have to suffer eyestrain,
looking through dusty materials in obscure places and following trails that frequently
led to dead ends. Enoch was now within his grasp.
Rachael Goldstein’s knowledge of ancient languages allowed her to interpret
the document for the Professor under the light of a candle held by the old custodian.
When she finished translating, this old man took a fistful of American dollars
and turned his back as they departed with the document. With the ancient
map in hand, the pair traveled to their tents on the outskirts of Timbuktu where
Imnah, their servant, waited with tubs of hot water to remove the day’s accumulated
dirt and sweat.
----
After several shampoos, the sand finally came out of Rachael’s hair. The task
completed, she reached in her trunk and pulled out the only outfit she brought to
this backwater besides baggy pants and work shirts. There was cause to celebrate
their last night in this godforsaken land, and Professor Weston had promised to
open the wine Imnah recently purchased at the marketplace.
When Bill Weston stepped out of the tent that evening, he saw that Imnah
had placed the folding dinner table near a blazing fire. Strange, he thought, how
the desert, so hot during the day, always freezes at night as the temperature plummets.
Shivering, he stepped closer to the warmth of the fire. A moment later, the servant
brought him a goblet of wine. The warm sensation produced quick relief
from the cold.
Emerging from her tent, Rachael saw the Professor standing in the distance.
Pausing a moment, she observed him. She had learned little from this man about
his personal life during their time spent together during the last year. Always so
deeply engrossed in his project, that if one didn’t know better, it might be said he
was obsessed by it. She did discover from other sources that her employer was
forty and divorced. Apparently his wife left him for another man. Maybe, she
thought, that is why he buries himself in the pursuit of biblical archaeology and
doesn’t seem to have an interest in the opposite sex, or perhaps his wife left him because
of it. A handsome man, but probably a little too old for me. Nevertheless, this job
had so isolated her socially that perhaps, if he would show a little interest, she
might reciprocate.
Bill saw her coming toward the fire. How beautiful she looked in the black
skirt and light blue blouse, so much better than in those loose fitting work
clothes. For the first time, he noticed her as a woman. Perhaps it was the wine or
maybe just the loneliness he felt.
“I’m glad you’re here, the food’s ready. Imnah, pour Ms. Goldstein a glass of
wine.”
At the table, they indulged in the prepared goat meat and rice. As they
devoured the food, she noticed how the light from the fire, dancing in the background,
caused his blue eyes to sparkle. Her tongue loosened by the wine,
Rachael talked about her past. Her family immigrated to Israel when she was
three. Her father, Dr. Benjamin Rabon, fled Yemen one-step ahead of the death
squads bent on killing the Jews and seizing their property. It had been emotionally
devastating to her Dad, whose ancestors had been in Yemen since they fled
the sacking of Jerusalem by the Romans centuries earlier.
Rachael’s interest in archaeology began at an early age. She was encouraged by
her father—Department Head of Middle Eastern Studies at Hebrew University.
As the only girl with three older brothers, she was doted upon. The death of her
mother when she was nine left her living a sheltered life under her father’s watch
ful eye until she entered the university. There she fell in love with a student
whose family had emigrated from America. Her family approved of the marriage,
provided she postpone the wedding until after graduation. But a year later when
her fiancé, Jerome, received his six months mobilization order as a member of the
Israel Self-Defense Force, they decided to ignore the wishes of family. The day
after their wedding, Jerome reported for active duty. A week later, he was dead,
killed by a device exploding beneath his personnel carrier. Mourning his death,
she buried herself in schoolwork until graduation.
Rachael’s present position as the Professor’s assistant required her to accompany
him through the barren lands of the Middle East and North Africa. The job
not only entailed personal hardship but also the dangers always present in the
politically explosive environment. Americans and Jews weren’t the most popular
people in this part of the world.
That evening she learned only the bare bone-dry details about her employer’s
personal life. She wondered why he couldn’t loosen up—show a more compassionate
side. Perhaps the desire to scratch the surface and see what lay beneath
attracted her to this introvert.
Rachael heard the Professor announce it was time to turn in. Their plane was
leaving at noon the next day. As they stood up from the table, he leaned over and
kissed her, then turned and walked in the direction of his tent.
Bill was in turmoil. Why did I kiss her, he thought. Perhaps the wine clouded
my judgment. He didn’t want to get close with Rachael or any other woman. He
still hurt inside thinking of Mary Belle, his college sweetheart, whom he married
the summer before entering graduate school. At Harvard, a student from a
wealthy New England family caught her attention. Buried up to his eyeballs in
pursuing an advanced degree, he didn’t realize she was having an affair until the
day she moved out.
CHAPTER 2
After loading the luggage in the jeep, Imnah drove Bill and Rachael through the
crowded bazaar toward the small airport without incident. The servant had been
so helpful during their stay, Bill knew he would miss him as he watched the man
glide the vehicle with ease through the traffic mingled with people and livestock.
He felt fortunate that Imnah wandered into their camp the day after the person
who had originally been recommended as a guide by the local authorities died in
On the way to the airport, Imnah, a man who had only spoken before in a
local dialect, asked in broken English if he could join the expedition to Enoch.
This man is more than the illiterate peasant he pretended to be, Bill thought. Had he
eavesdropped on my conversation with Rachael? Suspicions aroused, Bill
remained noncommittal about the request.
Their twin-engine plane arrived several hours late at the dirt landing strip that
passed as an airport. The plane finally lifted off to Cairo where they would take
connecting flights, Bill to the States, while Rachael would travel to Jerusalem.
Later, she would join the Professor for a meeting with Walter Henley, an antiquity
dealer in New York City.
The possibility of obtaining funds from the university to finance an expedition
to find Enoch was nil, so Bill had gone outside his familiar academic circles. An
acquaintance had placed him in contact with Henley. His appointment to meet
with the man in a few weeks could not have come at a more opportune time. The
discovery of the map should enhance his chance of getting approval for an expedition.
***
Henley met with the investors in the backroom of his antiquity store to discuss
the request for funding from various individuals. He formed this group ten
years ago. It proved to be profitable to all concerned and provided a cover for his
other activities. Many times skirting the law, the group used Henley's store and
business connections to fence artifacts from around the world.
"So what?s the situation on this biblical archaeologist?" asked Raymond Jones, a multimillionaire from Chicago.
"I?m meeting with him next week," Henley answered.
"How much is he asking us to contribute to his project?" Raymond inquired, intent on pursuing the issue.
"The last conversation I had with him, he indicated five hundred thousand."
"Is anyone else going to share in the cost of this expedition?" asked Ron
Moses, a banker from San Francisco.
"I don't think our Bible scholar can find anyone who will offer him financial
support for what many will see as a hair-brained fantasy."
"Why are we interested?" asked Sam Mendel, seated at the far end of the table.
"I have a person working with this scholar who keeps me informed. I can tell
you, Professor Weston?s extensive research has finally paid off. He has it."
"Has what?" Raymond asked.
"The map."
"What map?" asked Robert Osborne, an antique dealer from New Orleans.
"A map which shows the exact location of the City of Enoch; the first city on
earth built by man."
"If he locates it, what does he expect to find?" Mendel asked.
"I don't know what items of value might be there. It's a gamble, but since
we'll only chip in a hundred thousand apiece, it's a sum we can all easily afford to
lose. So, do I have your commitment?"
The men nodded in agreement.
***
Rachael had solitude at last on the long flight to New York. She had just spent
two weeks with her family in Jerusalem and visited Jerome's grave. They begged
her to stay longer, but she wanted to be at the meeting. If the funds were not
forthcoming, she would be out of a job. There weren't many positions for her
line of expertise outside of teaching. Her mind wandered back to the hours spent
over the last year translating ancient texts. She had enjoyed the challenge and the
professor had become dependent on her expertise. She greatly admired the man
professionally. Although he had only limited knowledge in the area of dead languages,
he was an impressive biblical scholar.
***
Bill waited for Rachael at the coffee shop next door to his hotel, Acropolis, a
new architectural marvel located near the site where the twin towers once stood.
He looked down at his watch. Rachael should be here soon, he thought. Otherwise,
he would have to go to the meeting without her. He was surprised how much he
missed her, the short time they were apart. Perhaps it was because they had been
constant companions since he hired her; deep down he knew it was more.
"Sorry I'm running late," Rachael said, carrying a wet umbrella as she
approached his table. "Didn't think I'd ever get a taxi this morning. With the bad
weather, I guess everyone is trying to catch a cab."
"You look like you got drenched from the blowing rain. Sit down and have a
cup of hot coffee. It'll shake off the chill of this air conditioning."
"Do we have time?"
"Yes. Henley's place is only four blocks away. I arranged with the hotel for
transportation when the weather turned nasty."
On the way over, Bill couldn't help but notice how the stylish outfit Rachael
was wearing, damp from the rain, clung to her body as she sat across from him in
the hotel limousine. The skirt rose slightly above her knees, revealing a pair of
lovely legs hidden from his view for the past year.
Entering the shop, they were directed down a corridor by an employee who
said Mr. Henley expected them. In the back was a spacious room dominated by a
large conference table. Their prospective financier, a short round man with a
deep brown complexion, dressed in an expensive suit, sat at the far end smoking a
cigar. Rising from his chair, the man crossed the room to greet them. In contrast
to his clothes, he had on cheap cologne, which reeked. The scent reached them
while he was still several feet away.
"Good morning, Dr. Weston." he said, grabbing Bill's hand in a firm handshake.
Then turning to Rachael, he introduced himself while his eyes stripped her.
She did not like this man. He had an aura of evil about him.
When they took their seats, Henley wasted no time in getting to the heart of
the matter.
"You want five hundred thousand dollars of my investors' money to fund an
expedition. Tell me why I should give it to you."
"Since this is the first time we've met, I'd like to tell you in detail about my
research, but I don't know how much time you will allow me to present my
information."
"You have one hour to get my interest. I can tell you the investors gave me
complete authority to make a decision. So give it your best shot."
Bill had been up most of the night preparing. He swallowed hard.
"The Bible recounts God's creation of Adam and Eve recognized by the three
great religions of the world: Judaism, Christianity and Islam. According to biblical
accounts, their firstborn, Cain, killed his brother, Abel. Afterward he fled to
the Land of Nod where he took a wife. The firstborn of this relationship was
named Enoch. In honor of this child, Cain built the first city in recorded history
and named it after his son. That is all the scriptures contain. There are, however,
other ancient texts that tell us more. My assistant and I have traveled throughout
the Middle East and to Africa studying old manuscripts, clay tablets, and tracing
down local legends. Not only have we found the Land of Nod, but we also know
where the site of Enoch is located. If successful, our expedition will unlock the
history of man's early ancestors. It will allow us to fill in the blank pages of the
origins of all civilizations that followed."
Then Bill focused on where he thought the investors interest lay.
"According to an ancient legend, the first accumulation of wealth by man was
in Enoch. The story speaks of gold and diamonds in large quantities buried by a
catastrophe."
"What kind of catastrophe?"
"It's unclear. It could have been an earthquake or maybe a volcanic explosion.
Perhaps it was man-made. Whatever happened, Enoch disappeared from history.
The people were killed or dispersed by the calamity."
"Then the riches must still be there," Henley said.
"I'm afraid we won't know the answer until we dig."
Henley tried to appear attentive, although he already was aware of this information
and more. He knew he would approve the funds and had known it for a
long time.
"Rachael, are you going on the expedition?"
"Why yes, Mr. Henley, I'll be assisting Dr. Weston."
"In that case I'll approve the funds," he said, with a smile that showed the gold
fillings in his teeth.
"Professor, if you'll send me a detailed account of your expected expenses, I'll
have my accountant go over them and work out a method of periodic payments
to your bank account as those needs arise."
"I can assure you the money will be carefully spent."
Chuckling, Henley said, "I have no doubt that my accountant will make sure
of that. Now, let me walk you to the door."
At the front, Henley handed a white envelope to Bill.
"Just a little advance to cover your initial expenses."
Opening it, Bill saw a cashier's check for fifty thousand dollars.
"This means we can get started."
"Don't forget, my lawyer is preparing the terms of the contract that we discussed
over the phone last week. He will be forwarding the document to you. We
will expect fifty percent of any gems, gold and artifacts which you are entitled to
after the Iranian government gets its share."
As they were walking out of the door, Henley leaned over and whispered in
Rachael's ear.
"We need to get together next week for dinner if you're still in town. I'd love
to talk ancient languages with you. It's always been a subject of great interest to
me."
Somewhat stunned, Rachael was at a loss for words. She did her best to give
him a pleasant smile and without answering, stepped onto the street.
"I heard Henley," Bill said when they were in the limousine.
"I don't have a good feeling about that man..."
"Are you going to have dinner with him next week?"
"Not unless you order me to. Of course, I don't want to jeopardize our funding."
"Once we get this check deposited, I can afford to send you back to Israel to
finish our research before the expedition. That way you won't have to make
excuses to avoid Henley."
A smile came over Rachael's face. "That would be a relief."
On the way back to the hotel she said, "I need to talk to you about someone I
recently met in Jerusalem, who might be interested in helping us on our project."
She told him about Irad Lamech, a graduate student at Hebrew University in
Jerusalem whom Rachael's brothers had introduced her to. The two had
quickly discovered a common interest - dead languages. Rachael knew Irad was
attracted to her in other than a professional way; the attraction wasn't mutual.
CHAPTER 3
Rachael was back in Jerusalem only a few days before she convinced Irad to
obtain a leave of absence to assume a position with the expedition. Impressed
with his knowledge of the ancient world from their previous conversations, she
believed he would be a great asset in making the dig a success.
The professor had sent her back to track down a lead obtained earlier. An artifact
important to their research might be available in a small village lying in a
place known as the Wilderness of Judaea.
Because of numerous military roadblocks, it was a long trip to the outskirts of
the village. One officer encouraged Irad and Rachael to turn back because of fundamentalist
Muslim attacks in the nearby countryside. It was dark by the time
they arrived. Knowing nothing could be accomplished that evening, they set up a
tent on a hill near the village and settled in for the night. The next morning they
were up before sunrise. Sitting near the campfire Irad built, Rachael decided it
was time to give him more details. She reached into her backpack and pulled out
a sketch of the map found in Timbuktu.
"Irad," she said. "The professor has given me permission to show this to you."
Rachael moved closer to him so they could both view the sketch. She observed
Irad as he studied it. He was taller than most men. She had to look up to see his
face and couldn't help but notice how incredibly attractive he was. Why is he still
unattached, she wondered. Maybe he's like the professor, putting all of his energy
into a career. Of course, to an outsider she might also appear that way, but she
knew better.
Irad continued to study the map as Rachael talked about the professor's
project. She described what they had uncovered concerning the location of the
Land of Nod, and she explained that the first step in the process was to locate the Garden
of Eden.
"Eden lay north of four great rivers that converged at the Persian Gulf?miles
inland in ancient times from where it is located today," she said. "Two are well
known, the Tigris and the Euphrates, but the location of the others referred to in
the Bible as the Pishon and the Gihon have been lost in antiquity. The professor
believes ancient documents and new photographs from space, when examined
together, provide crucial information about their location."
Pulling a geographic map from her backpack, she unfolded it and spread the
document on the ground.
"You see the river Gihon flowed through western Iran and today is called
Karun. Experts have been on the wrong track trying to locate the Gihon. For a
long time they believed it was the Nile because it flowed out of the land of Cush,
which is Ethiopia. The professor is convinced that the Gihon is the Karun
because the Kassites, descendants of Cain, dwelt along its banks and called the
land Kush. You can see why scholars were confused."
"What about the other missing river?"
"The Pishon, according to the Bible, flowed around the land of Havilah,
which the professor feels is part of Saudi Arabia and Kuwait. Satellite pictures
have recently confirmed his theory. They show a concealed riverbed beneath the
sands. This river, now dried up because of climatic changes, once originated in
the Hijaz Mountains near the city of Medina and flowed into the Persian Gulf
where the other three joined it."
"So the Land of Nod lay east of Eden," Irad said. "And within its boundaries,
Cain built Enoch. If the map is authentic, it will confirm the professor's theories."
The next morning when they entered the village, Irad and Rachael were
dressed in clothing that blended well with those worn by the people of the region.
Making their way to a mud hut on the outskirts of a cluster of similarly built
homes, Rachael knocked on the old wooden door that bore the address they were
seeking. A young boy answered.
"We have come to see Shimar," she said in the local dialect that she learned
from her father. "Tell him Oreb has sent us."
Oreb, a friend of Bill's father, knew Shimar through family contacts.
The boy disappeared for a moment. When he returned, they were invited in,
and led to a room at the back of the hut. Inside on the dirt floor lay an old man
on a cot.
"Ismal," he said, directing his comments to the young boy who had answered
the door, "Get tea for our guests."
Motioning for them to have a seat on a rug beside the cot, he sat up just as the
boy brought in a wooden platter. On it were three cups of steaming hot tea with
ginger.
"Oreb sent you?" he asked.
"Yes," Rachael said.
"What do you want?"
"We understand you have an old staff that came from Enoch."
"Well, what if I do?" asked the old man before launching into a coughing episode,
which eased when he drank some tea.
"We would like to buy it."
The old man thought for a moment. I promised my ancestors never to part with
the item. It has been handed down in my family for many generations. My grandson,
Ismal, and I are the last of the family line. I don?t have long to live. What
good is the staff to me anyway? It is cursed. Maybe this instrument of the devil
brought on the calamity that has almost wiped out my family line.
Looking at Ismal standing in the corner, he knew the boy was penniless. A few
gold coins would keep his grandson from starving when he was gone.
"How much are you willing to pay?"
"We need to see it first."
"Get it, Ismal."
When the boy returned, Irad and Rachael examined the staff. It was eight feet
long, most unusual for a staff to have such height. That, with its large circumference,
made it extremely heavy. The wood was of an unknown origin. Attached to
the top was a golden knob. A serpent was engraved on the staff and a map carved
into its wood.
"How much do you want?"
As was the custom, the old man asked for more than he thought the buyer was
willing to pay. She was surprised at the demand. It was less than she had
expected. Not wanting to offend him, she haggled until the price was lower. She
paid in gold coins from a bag she carried hidden on her person.
"Can you give me the history of this staff?" Rachael asked.
"It belonged to the Nephilim at one time. My ancestor took it from the
descendants of Cain at the battle of Enoch in the ancient days, and it has been in
our family's possession since that time."
How strange for the man to use the term Nephilim, Rachael thought. Her
mind raced back to Old Testament class. They were mentioned in Genesis, which
said the sons of God mated with the daughters of men and produced these giants.
"I always thought that was nothing but a myth," she said to Irad.
The old man began to have another coughing spasm, which even the hot tea
did not seem to alleviate.
"Perhaps you could come back tomorrow," the young boy said.
"Yes. I'll be feeling better then," the old man said. "Come and see me tomorrow,
and I will tell you the legend of the Serpent."
"We'll be back to hear your story," Irad said.
Rachael was glad to be at the campsite. She would be even happier to get back
to Jerusalem where she knew the staff could be safely stored. If word got out
about the staff or the gold coins, their lives would be forfeited in this sinkhole.
Irad was kind enough to offer to protect the item that evening, but Rachael
didn?t want it out of her sight. The excitement of the day and the discomfort of
the staff under the blanket kept her from sleeping most of the night. Irad seemed
concerned. She saw him sit up several times in his cot during the night and gaze
at her. Just before daybreak, she finally dozed off to sleep.
The sound of vehicles passing on the road nearby awakened Rachael. She
stepped out of the tent just in time to see an Israeli military convoy pass by driving
toward the village where the old man lived. Looking around, she realized that
Irad wasn't there. For the next hour she worried that something might have happened.
Then she heard him call. She turned and saw him coming down a sand
dune a few yards away.
"Where have you been?" she asked when he reached the tent.
Holding up two canteens he said, "When I got up this morning, I noticed a
hole in our water bag, so I went into the village to replenish our supply."
Rachael looked at the canvas bag attached to the side of the jeep and saw it was
empty.
"It must have sprung a leak on the rough terrain getting here," she said.
Handing her one of the canteens, Irad went over and added more wood to the
Fire, so he could cook breakfast. Later that morning they examined the staff
together.
"The inscription is unlike any of the dead languages I've studied," Irad said.
"Perhaps the infrared light at the university could enhance the marking."
"I don't recognize it either. Maybe my father or one of his colleagues might
have a clue to its origin."
That afternoon the jeep's short wheelbase allowed it to travel along an old
rocky path, which Irad discovered that morning. The path took them around to
the far side of the village and ended a few hundred yards from the old man's mud
hut where there was a disturbance taking place.
"I think it best if I go down alone," Irad said.
A few minutes later, he returned.
"We've got to get out of here. Shimar and Ismal have been killed, and the villagers
are blaming it on the Jews."
"A military patrol passed our tent this morning going toward the village,"
Rachael said.
Later that day on the road toward Jerusalem, they stopped for a military roadblock.
The officer in charge was the same one who had warned them not to go
into the area.
While a private checked their identity cards, the officer said, "I see you have
finished your business down there."
"Were your troops in the village this morning?" Rachael asked.
"One of our units was there. Seems an old man and a boy were brutally murdered.
Strange."
"What do you mean?" Rachael asked.
"The man had his tongue cut out and the seal of a serpent branded upon his
forehead."
"And the boy?"
"Strangled."
CHAPTER 4
The meeting with the Assassin that first week in July was short and to the point.
"Imnah will be arriving in New York this weekend for a meeting with me on
Monday. I do not expect him to make that meeting. Is that understood?"
"Yes," said the assassin, who didn't anticipate any problem eliminating the
drone. After all, he was trained in the art of killing. In his profession there was no
room for error. A mistake could not only cost him a place in the hierarchy but
also his life.
When the assassin left, the man sat down at the table in his conference room
and lit a cigar, then reached over and picked up the letter he received that morning
by special dispatch. He slowly read the contents for the second time that day.
The secrets of the ages, lost even to us, are about to be uncovered, he thought. It's
good one of our own is now on the inside. That meant the drone, Imnah, was no
longer needed. He served his purpose and could now be eliminated.
That same weekend, Bill was in New York City to see a colleague. Sam Rison
was known as the authority on the Nephilim and, in fact, he had written several articles
on them. That is why, when the call came from Rachael about the staff, he
contacted him immediately.
Anxious to meet with Sam, he stepped outside the airport that Saturday to
catch a taxi. Was that Imnah getting into a cab across the street? He started to
yell, but before a sound had time to leave his lips, the door on the cab closed, and
the vehicle sped off. I must have been mistaken, he thought. After all, what would
Imnah be doing in New York?
Sam lived in a small apartment downtown. It was all the space he needed after
his wife died.
"Please be patient with me, Bill, if I seem somewhat long-winded. I haven't
had many visitors since my retirement. Some of what I am going to say is old
news. Perhaps I can sprinkle it with enough new information to keep this from
being a wasted trip."
"I've never had a conversation with you that didn't give me new insight."
"The term Nephilim is often used interchangeably with the term giant. The
term literally means the fallen ones or those who came down. Other biblical
terms used to describe them are Rephaim and Serpent. It would be intriguing to
ascertain the origin of these creatures. The first mention of them is in Genesis.
Suddenly, there appears a passage "the sons of God came down and, finding
the daughters of men attractive, had intercourse with them". According to the
scriptures, children born of those relationships were not only giants but also
heroes of the ancient world. Many theories have been espoused over the years on
the meaning of those passages. One is that angels sent by God cohabitated with
the women of the earth. Another is that they were fallen angels. According to the
most recent interpretation by theologians, they are the descendants of Seth who
called themselves the Children of the Lord. As you know from the seminar materials
I sent, my research leads me to believe the various theories are off the mark."
"I have read your articles and your theory certainly makes more sense than the
others. Tell me more about your idea that the Land of Nod was inhabited by people
who were large in stature."
"When Cain took a wife, legends outside the Holy Scriptures describe the offspring
of Cain as larger than Seth's descendants. The passage in the Bible, which
talks about the Sons of God coming down, is in my opinion simply a geographic
matter. I believe the Land of Nod, lying east of Eden, was situated on a higher elevation.
Perhaps in the Zagros Mountain chain. I have theorized that they came
down from the mountains and mated with the inhabitants of the Babylonian
Plains who were of normal size and perhaps Seth's descendants. Of course, those
scholars who believe the flood of Noah's time covered the whole earth think the
Nephilim drowned with everyone else. I don't prescribe to that logic because the
flood was only a local catastrophe limited to the plains of Babylonia. Besides,
there are numerous references to them in the Bible after the flood."
"I agree. Logic supports a limited flood. So, the descendents of Cain, which
would include the Nephilim, may still exist today among us."
"Like I told you earlier, the Bible says exactly that. After the flood, they are
mentioned in Genesis, Numbers, Joshua and Samuel. However, my favorite source
on that point is the passage contained in Deuteronomy where it describes various
Nephilim, including King OG, whose iron bed was thirteen and a half feet long
and six feet wide."
"Their existence after the flood only strengthens your argument that it was a
local catastrophe," Bill said. "Let me give you some information that lends even
more support to your theory."
Bill told him about the staff Rachael purchased and the information she
learned from its former owner.
"That's interesting, and if true, it goes a long way toward proving my theory."
Bill reached into his briefcase and withdrew sketches of Cain's staff.
***
It was Sunday morning when the assassin entered the lobby of the hotel.
Avoiding the personnel at the desk, he went straight to the elevator and rode to
the fourth floor. Locating Imnah's room, he put his ear to the door. Hearing no
sound, he inserted a master key into the lock. Opening the door slowly, he peered
inside. The sound of the shower running in the bathroom told him that his
quarry was there. When the drone emerged, the assassin wrapped one arm firmly
around his neck and with his hand pulled the head back until he heard the neck
snap. Letting the limp body drop to the floor, he rummaged through the room to
give it the appearance of a robbery and then quickly departed. Another assignment
successfully completed for The Society.
***
It was the second homicide scene Detective Thomas O'Conner had viewed
that Monday, and it wasn't even noon yet. Just back from a two-week vacation,
he had found a stack of paperwork waiting on his desk, and now it didn't seem
like he was going to get a chance to look at it.
"What do we have here, officer?" he asked upon entering the hotel room.
"It looks like a robbery, detective," said the young man in his crisp new uniform.
"I believe the man's neck is broken."
"Any identification?"
"Not a thing except a tattoo of a snake on his torso. His wallet is missing and
the other personal items have no trace of anything that gives a clue who this victim
was or where he came from."
"What about the hotel registration?"
"Personally made by a corporation, but surprisingly the payment was in cash."
"The corporation should be easy to trace from the address on the registration
book."
***
Tuesday morning on the way to catch a plane back to Charleston, Bill picked
up a newspaper from the coffee shop. Later, seated comfortably in first class, he
read the headlines. Finished, he began to browse the smaller articles to see if anything
there might be of interest. His eye caught a story on a murder at a hotel.
The article described the deceased and commented that he had no identification
on him. The story had a small photograph of such poor quality that it was barely
visible. The police requested anyone who knew the victim to contact Detective
Thomas O'Connor of the New York City Police Department.
Could it be Imnah, Bill wondered, staring at the picture? No, of course not,
was his immediate thought. But it wouldn't hurt to make a call.
***
Tuesday morning Dr. Benjamin Rabon was with his daughter in his study
examining the staff. The inscription resembled the ancient writing in southern
Yemen, the ancestral home of his people. But not close enough to those ancient
writings for him to decipher.
"We need to contact John Elesbaan and arrange a time to meet with him," Dr.
Rabon said. "He is an expert in this area."
"I want Professor Weston involved when we meet with John," Rachael said.
"In the meantime, we can take the staff to the university and examine it under
the infrared equipment to get a better view of the marking," Dr. Rabon said.
***
Thomas had never been to Charleston before. The view as he flew over the
Carolina coastline was beautiful. From reading a book on the plane, he knew this
city was established in 1670 and had the most preserved historic district on the
east coast. As the plane circled, he saw the gleaming white structures of the Citadel,
a famous military college founded in 1842. He planned to spend an extra day
and take a tour.
When Thomas first spoke to Dr. Weston, he thought it was just another caller
with useless information. However, his interest was piqued when, in response to
the photo faxed him, the professor replied with an affirmative identification.
Thomas knew it might lead to a suspect in the murder. He wanted to meet with
the professor in person. He had learned from years of experience that the best
way to evaluate a witness or suspect was eye contact. The time of the landing was
perfect for the luncheon scheduled at noon.
The restaurant was on a side street near the locally famous Four Corners of The
Law, so named because federal, county, municipal, and church buildings were
erected on its four corners. When he entered, the waiter led him to a secluded
area in the back of the restaurant.
Bill saw the detective enter the room. His soft voice on the phone had projected
an image that could easily mislead one into thinking the person on the
other end of the line was somewhat effeminate. Nothing could be further from
the truth, Bill thought, as the man approached. The detective looked to be in his
early forties with the beginnings of a receding hairline. Bill could tell by Thomas?
physical appearance that he obviously spent time keeping his six-foot frame in
superb shape.
"Thomas O'Conner, I presume," Bill said, as he rose from the table to greet
his guest. "I hope you had a good flight."
"It was a pleasant trip down. I?ve always wanted to visit your fair city, though
not under these circumstances. Let's talk business later. I don't want to spoil the
delicious meal I'm sure this restaurant has to offer."
An hour later, pushing the empty plate to the side, Thomas said, "Tell me
everything you know about this man called Imnah."
"Like I said on the telephone, there is little information I can give you. The
first week we were in Timbuktu, the person hired through the local authority was
killed in an automobile accident, or so an official informed us. The next day this
small man, Imnah, showed up at our campsite right after breakfast. He indicated
he was experienced as a guide and servant. So I hired him. He was handy to have
around."
"What was his full name?"
"You know, he never said. Moreover, since he was paid in cash, I never had a
reason to ask. Imnah didn't talk about himself. Now that I look back, it does
seem somewhat strange the way he took care of our needs without ever letting us
know anything about himself. It was almost like he was a mindless automaton."
"Is there anything else that drew your attention?"
"Yes."
"What's that?"
"The day we left Timbuktu, he asked if he could join our expedition. And that
was the first time he spoke English. It aroused my suspicion. I wondered at the
time if he had been eavesdropping on my conversations with my assistant."
"Expedition?"
"A project involving an archaeological dig in Iran."
"Who's your assistant?"
"Rachael Goldstein. She's in Israel now. She couldn't add anything to what I
have just told you."
"I have to ask you this. Why were you in New York, and where were you the
morning of the murder?"