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Authors: Mike Handcock

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Abbey looked at David with pride. He sure could pitch when he put his mind to it.

“Ask your question, Mr Clark,” said Lone Bear.

David gathered his thoughts for a moment and cleared his throat. He looked around the room. He had the attention of the elders.

“We are aware of the DNA in the Chippewa that is Minoan of nature and we are aware of the Templar Knights that lived among the peoples of the north seven hundred years ago. We know about the runes and the hooked X. Our quest is to find its current incumbent and bring it to the attention of the world. We have been shrouded in darkness for two thousand years. It’s enough. The truth needs to come out… Will you help us?”

David went quiet. There had been no reaction from the room. No one spoke or looked at each other. Then one man broke the pregnant silence.

“It’s myth. It doesn’t exist.”

Everyone looked at the man. He was Chief Brown Child from another Minnesota tribe. He was a man in his sixties. David held his gaze resolute. Again it was the 92-year-old Ghost Wolf who spoke up.

“I like these people. They make waves and waves create life. Tell them, Chief Lone Bear.”

Lone Bear stood and addressed David.

“It is true.” Individuals in the group began to look around and murmur. It was obvious to Abbey even the chiefs had been told otherwise. Lone Bear went on.

“My father had been party to the tests. He had the DNA of the Minoans, which means I do as well. He was the only one. The university of Nova Scotia has some of the best DNA laboratories in the world. He agreed to the tests, but in his heart he knew. He had visions of great ships and the smell of the forge all his life. Not long after he was found to be of Minoan decent he was killed. My tribe blamed you, Chief Ghost Wolf. It is the time when both you and I received these names. I knew you and my father argued a lot, about the past, our legacy, our rights. But in my heart I knew it was the white man that was responsible although they did a good job of framing you. Yet you were never arrested. That evidence was not there. That’s when your tribe called you Ghost Wolf, he who hunts as a ghost. It was an honour for you. I became the Lone Bear, foraging out a life for my people on these desolate shores. I am sorry, Chief Ghost Wolf. I was a young man. My ego would not let me understand the truth, which is why I invited you here today. It has taken me many years to understand the lies I have been told and why I was so wrong in my judgement of you. I knew in my heart if we united and I backed down, that all the tribes would unite. Yet I could not. My ego so wanted to blame you for my father’s death.”

“It is fine,” the old man said. “It just makes today all the more powerful.”

Lone Bear turned back to David and continued. “I have always known of the runes, like the one in the lake just several hundred yards from here. Some of our tribe were even said to have spoken Greek, but that was stopped many years before the birth of my grandfather through fear of the white man. We knew these knights existed and lived as one with our people, but there are many tribes of Lake Superior not just mine and it is very mingled these days. I have heard
the story of the chosen one, that which the knights protected all those years, but they left. I know nothing more. I am afraid I can only offer you a dead end.”

Ghost Wolf spoke up in his quiet raspy manner. At ninty-two he had found energy this day. Old Indians were like that.

“My young friends. It is all in the prophecy. Everything is in the prophecy. It’s been etched on the rock for a thousand years.”

David’s ears pricked up. He had known about the Hopi Prophecy and had even studied it, but he never made a connection between that and the son of God.

“I’m sorry chief… there is a clue in the prophecy rock?”

Carved into a stone in the middle of the desert in Hopi lands is a very normal looking rock. This rock, as David had studied contained the Hopi’s main gift to the world and especially the post-2012 equation.

The rock showed a man standing at the bottom of a rope. The first sign of the Hopi is the coming to an end of the rule of the white skinned race. The second sign is that of wagons coming across the land. The third sign foresees cattle overrunning the land. The fourth is that the land
would be crossed by snakes of iron (railroads). The fifth sign is that the land will be crossed by a giant web (phone and telecommunications). The sixth is that the land will be criss-crossed with rivers of stone (roads). With the seventh sign the sea will turn black and things will die because of it (Industrialism) The eighth sign is about longhaired youth joining the ways of the Indians (the New Age revolution). The dwelling in heaven will fall with an almighty crash.

“Of course,” David said, rationalising what he knew of the signs: “The ninth sign is the fall of the Church.”

Ghost Wolf smiled and said, “You know the prophecy. I told you I liked New Zealanders.” The room laughed and then Ghost Wolf continued: “But David (if I may call you that), to bring the heavens down you must find the blue tripartite. It is the blue tripartite that will guide you.”

David looked at Abbey and back to the men.

“Do you know of the lineage, Chief?”

“No… I do not. But have faith. Find the blue tripartite. I know it lies there. I see it in my visions.”

Lone Bear spoke up.

“Mr Clark, thank you both for making this journey. It is obvious to me what we must do. We must make an announcement to the press of all of the tribes coming together. We must lead them away from the focus on you. We will say we believed you, but know nothing. They will believe us. In fact we do know little. You must go. My people will have the ferry take you, before the others; they can wait another several hours. By then you will be long gone. We will retire and complete a vision quest. It may last several days, but this is the way we can help you. Our spirits of our ancestors will help you find the truth. Good luck.”

With that they were shown to the door, acknowledged by the chiefs. They had a clue. It was true, thought David. It was in the prophecy. He explained to Abbey how at the end of the picture there are four people holding hands, legs wide apart like they are balancing. If they chose to go down, to the old path they will find corn, in other words sustenance. If
they continue as they are the road becomes very bumpy. David felt this was the battle between new age sustainable living in harmony and the system of greed that most of us were brought up in.

Some fifteen minutes later, David and Abbey stepped onto the boat and it took off quickly, the assistants waving farewell from the shores.

The boat cleared the docks and harbour as David and Abbey stood at the rear of the boat waving to those on the shore and contemplating what they had just witnessed in the meeting. The boat headed out into the main part of the lake and away from the island. Above them a grey blue sky hinted at the changing seasons of this part of the world.

David smiled at Abbey. Again they were free and at least they had some guidance even if it was a cryptic clue. Brian Altin and his cohorts had failed in their attempt to discredit them on national television. David guessed they were still locked in the bar. He grabbed Abbey and went to kiss her passionately. She drew away.

Confused David looked at her. She winked back.

“Let’s leave that for now. I’m pretty sure the captain of this boat is not the actual captain.”

“How do you know that?”

“Oh probably because he’s standing at the wheel staring at you holding an axe.”

*
  
http://soundofheart.org/galacticfreepress/content/hopi-elder-speaks-moment-has-come

25

Rocko Rizotto stood with concierge outside the Waldorf at 6pm with a hotel car waiting. He couldn’t work out if he was annoyed at Stacey for being a little late or because his balls were itchy in the suit pants and there was no way he could scratch them in public at that stage.

Stacey emerged from the door and Rocko nearly dropped his room key. Dressed in a tight fitting chiffon dress that hugged her body and was tastefully clingy, yet leaving the imagination going wild, Stacey looked great for a mother of two children that worked as hard as she did. It was her nature not to do anything by halves and health was certainly one of those things. She looked ten years younger and heads turned all around her. The concierge immediately opened the car door and Stacey stepped
gracefully into the limo. The door shut and the car pulled into the traffic bound for the New York Museum.

“Wow, Stacey – you look amazing tonight,” said Rocko beaming.

Blushing Stacey replied. “Why thank you Mr Rizotto, you don’t scrub up bad yourself.”

“Damn suits itchy though,” Rocko said, and with that shoved his hand down the front of his pants and started hankering away at the itch.

“Jesus Rocko… one compliment and you manage to break it in less than five seconds…. That’s gross.”

“Oh let it roll, Stace… you can have a scratch too if you want. I won’t look…much.” He smirked and Stacey thought it wise to change the subject.

“I’m surprised we haven’t heard from David,” she said, looking at a tramp on Park Avenue.

“Aw, he’s probably outta range if you know what I mean,” gleamed Rocko.

“Humph. I don’t think so. He’s normally good; maybe there is no comms on the island. It is pretty remote.”

“Oh well let’s go eat some decent caviar, Stace, and have some cocktails. If Leon organised this it will be a good gig for sure.”

The car sped uptown and through the park toward the museum.

* * *

Leon Gills was a little nervous. Chant had asked him to ensure the bank sponsored the new Ancient Civilizations wing of the museum. Private collectors had donated some pretty amazing pieces, especially one Mr Black, an enigma of a man to the curator of the museum. Black had donated some pieces that came out of Sumeria in the 1930s, well before the wars in Iraq as that country was called now. These Sumerian pieces talked about the great sky gods, the Annunaki, and their wisdom, which reseeded the Earth. The curator was amazed at the pieces that he didn’t even know existed. Gills himself didn’t have much time for “all this old crap,” as he called it. His role was to show the bank as caring for the past. He knew
Chant himself would be there to oversee things and his nerves were on edge. He’d had two Champagnes already to try and break the shakes.

The Slovak killer John, head of William Chant III’s security, was on site. He had organised several others to be there as part of Chant’s force as well. He knew two of the group would be there. He also knew it was the researcher and the linebacker Rizotto.

The New York Museum has a pride of place in the city, just off Central Park. Whilst America had many great museums like the Smithsonian, Guggenheim and of course the Libraries of Congress, the New York Museum was a favoured place for all Americans and a great place to hide a cover-up in perfect view, which was exactly what Black and Chant had done.

The car dropped Rizotto and Stacey at the steps to the museum. He took her arm and confidently they marched up the steps. Everywhere men’s heads turned.

“I do look good don’t I?” said Rocko. “Looks like the whole of gay New York is out to see me.” “Oh Rocko,” said Stacey. “You are one in a million.”

“See…look at this guy. He’s swaggering right up to me. Hell I may as well be in San Francisco.” Rocko’s jokes aside, a man was smiling and coming toward them at a great pace.

“Oh my god, he’s gorgeous Rocko.”

“Gay,” was all Rocko could get out. The man, dressed in a tailored vest, open shirt with lots of necklaces and wrist bands, sporting a pair of Armani skinny legged jeans, sunglasses and a lock of hair draped over his face, was making a beeline for them. As a drinks waiter crossed his path, he pirouetted, took two glasses of Champagne, spun and delivered one right into Stacey’s right hand.

“Hello beautiful, you look parched,” said the man in a smooth confident tone with a hint of an Australian accent.

“Hi,” said Rocko “I see you brought me one as well. Thanks,” and went to take the second glass, but the man was too fast. He spun his hand rotating the glass away from Rocko’s reach without spilling a drop. “Oh come now. The lady’s driver should not be drinking.”

BOOK: Truthseekers
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