Chase Baker and the Seventh Seal (A Chase Baker Thriller Book 9) by Vincent Zandri Page B
Authors: Vincent Zandri
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severe weather, starvation, plague, financial collapse, too many people and not enough food, possible nuclear war . . . Need I go on?”
“There’s a seventh seal then,” James says. It’s a question.
“Yes,” Magda says. “The seventh seal is intact.”
Stealing another sip of the whiskey laced coffee, I jump in, “You see, James, apparently the seventh seal — the most important seal — is impossible to break. The metal utilized in its construction is something that’s out of this world.” I throw up my hands. “So I’m told.”
“But it exists nonetheless,” Magda says. “And if we don’t find it and transport it to someplace where it will be safe from all humanity, and from men and women who might be able to develop a technology to break the seal, then the world as we know it can, and will, finally be wiped clean by the wrath of the new Messiah.”
James sits back, runs his hand over his tight face. I get the sense he believes our story but that he’s on the fence with the end-of-the-world bit. Can’t say I blame him.
“You two ever heard of the Megiddo Valley?” he says.
“Up north, above the Jordan Valley,” Magda says. “It’s where the final showdown between good and evil is supposed to occur.”
“Just recently,” James says, “the Israeli government announced they will be drilling for oil and natural gas in the valley, thereby eliminating any need for foreign oil.”
“In other words,” I say, “they are thoroughly pissing off the Arab states that surround them, setting the stage for a pretty decent fight of Biblical proportions.”
“It all comes down to oil . . . energy . . . who controls it,” Magda interjects.
“Those Arab states not only depend on the oil trade for their fortunes, but they also want to see Israel wiped off the face of the earth.”
“And now the codices appear after two thousand years of being hidden away,” Magda says.
“As if God wanted it to happen that way.”
“Could be the stage is already being set,” James says.
“For what?” Magda asks.
“The end of the world,” James says.
CHAPTER 25
We finish our coffees, stand.
“You said you saw the codices with your own eyes once before, Magda,” James says.
“Yes,” she replies. “In the bookshop inside the Old City. The shop where we were almost murdered.”
James pulls down on the brim of his old hat so that it covers his forehead entirely. “And when did you say you last saw them?” he questions.
“Last summer when I was working on the dig just around the corner.”
“You might have mentioned that to me at the time.”
“I didn’t realize their significance, other than their archaeological importance, James.”
He holds up his hands in surrender.
“Okay, okay,” he says, “but things have changed. Now, whoever revealed them to you is gone, perhaps murdered. And the new caretakers are guarding them as if they were priceless.”
“I’m not so sure this is about money,” I add, “any more than I believe it’s about oil and who controls it.”
“How’s that?” James says.
“I think this is about power, plain and simple. Whoever possesses the seventh codice, or book, essentially rules the world.”
James bites down on his bottom lip. He says, “If it were to get into the hands of the wrong people, say a doomsday cult, it could bring about a really bad day for all humanity, now couldn’t it?”
“Those men who were wearing black,” Magda interjects, “their hair cut into Mohawks.”
“They were soldiers belonging to some kind of army,” I say. That’s when a vision comes to me. The framed photo on the wall above the safe in the back room of the bookstore. “The picture of Ansar al-Mahdi on that wall. Was it there when you were last in the shop?”
Magda shakes her head.
“Mahdi,” James says, “The expected one. The Muslim God who will usher in the end of the world.”
“The god who will break the seventh seal,” I
“There’s a seventh seal then,” James says. It’s a question.
“Yes,” Magda says. “The seventh seal is intact.”
Stealing another sip of the whiskey laced coffee, I jump in, “You see, James, apparently the seventh seal — the most important seal — is impossible to break. The metal utilized in its construction is something that’s out of this world.” I throw up my hands. “So I’m told.”
“But it exists nonetheless,” Magda says. “And if we don’t find it and transport it to someplace where it will be safe from all humanity, and from men and women who might be able to develop a technology to break the seal, then the world as we know it can, and will, finally be wiped clean by the wrath of the new Messiah.”
James sits back, runs his hand over his tight face. I get the sense he believes our story but that he’s on the fence with the end-of-the-world bit. Can’t say I blame him.
“You two ever heard of the Megiddo Valley?” he says.
“Up north, above the Jordan Valley,” Magda says. “It’s where the final showdown between good and evil is supposed to occur.”
“Just recently,” James says, “the Israeli government announced they will be drilling for oil and natural gas in the valley, thereby eliminating any need for foreign oil.”
“In other words,” I say, “they are thoroughly pissing off the Arab states that surround them, setting the stage for a pretty decent fight of Biblical proportions.”
“It all comes down to oil . . . energy . . . who controls it,” Magda interjects.
“Those Arab states not only depend on the oil trade for their fortunes, but they also want to see Israel wiped off the face of the earth.”
“And now the codices appear after two thousand years of being hidden away,” Magda says.
“As if God wanted it to happen that way.”
“Could be the stage is already being set,” James says.
“For what?” Magda asks.
“The end of the world,” James says.
CHAPTER 25
We finish our coffees, stand.
“You said you saw the codices with your own eyes once before, Magda,” James says.
“Yes,” she replies. “In the bookshop inside the Old City. The shop where we were almost murdered.”
James pulls down on the brim of his old hat so that it covers his forehead entirely. “And when did you say you last saw them?” he questions.
“Last summer when I was working on the dig just around the corner.”
“You might have mentioned that to me at the time.”
“I didn’t realize their significance, other than their archaeological importance, James.”
He holds up his hands in surrender.
“Okay, okay,” he says, “but things have changed. Now, whoever revealed them to you is gone, perhaps murdered. And the new caretakers are guarding them as if they were priceless.”
“I’m not so sure this is about money,” I add, “any more than I believe it’s about oil and who controls it.”
“How’s that?” James says.
“I think this is about power, plain and simple. Whoever possesses the seventh codice, or book, essentially rules the world.”
James bites down on his bottom lip. He says, “If it were to get into the hands of the wrong people, say a doomsday cult, it could bring about a really bad day for all humanity, now couldn’t it?”
“Those men who were wearing black,” Magda interjects, “their hair cut into Mohawks.”
“They were soldiers belonging to some kind of army,” I say. That’s when a vision comes to me. The framed photo on the wall above the safe in the back room of the bookstore. “The picture of Ansar al-Mahdi on that wall. Was it there when you were last in the shop?”
Magda shakes her head.
“Mahdi,” James says, “The expected one. The Muslim God who will usher in the end of the world.”
“The god who will break the seventh seal,” I
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