EARTH PLAN (26 page)

CHAPTER 42

The rescue team from the Guild made it its business to be ready at a moment's notice.

They'd been standing by, ready to deploy out to find Lang and his group, so they'd had extra time to make sure their gear was in fine shape. It was a team of four men, all former members of elite military forces who had a crisis of conscience when ordered on some very questionable missions.

These missions had to do with killing innocent people, namely some monks in a remote village who refused to give up their sacred books. The soldiers thought it was strange that they were airdropped into the Amazon jungle to take some books from some old monks. But that was the mission. And they were told to use whatever force was necessary to achieve their goals.

That was not the sort of mission the men had in mind when they had signed up for duty. Of course, they had thought they'd be safeguarding their country and protecting it from invaders. But this was the furthest from that they could imagine. They had to go along with the mission, or face court-marital, or worse...several members of other special ops groups had disappeared after they questioned missions just as strange.

So, the four had boarded a small private plane in Rio. They wore camouflage fatigues with no markings on them, nor did they carry any ID. They were Americans, but their own country would do nothing to help them, officially, if they happened to run into any trouble. Some other covert soldiers might be sent to get them out of whatever jam they might get into, but that was not guaranteed. And, if the four happened to be captured by a foreign military, then all bets were off, as no help would be coming at all.

Knowing all this, the four elite soldiers went on their mission into the jungle. The plane flew them out there at night and kept low over the spot where the village had been found. The village had been unknown until that time, due to its remoteness and the heavy foliage that had obscured it from view. Only a recent tropical storm had taken down enough trees that a military plane flying over had spotted the huts on the ground.

Some civilian researchers had been sent in, hired by a company at arm's length but controlled by the military. What they had found sent the hairs on the back of the necks of the high command on end. It turned out that the isolated village numbered about a hundred people and was led by a couple of shamen who had extensive knowledge of plant medicine and how to navigate in the psychic realms.

The researchers were able to piece together that the shamen knew all about the modern world, and even about the researchers themselves! They told the researchers about their lives, including intimate details that they couldn't have known, except by mind reading abilities. The researches didn't stay in the village long, as they were so shocked.

They returned to make their reports, which were read by the secret ops commanders. In the reports, the shamen had said things that they knew were going to be read by the commanders. They said that they knew their military was being run by the Dark One, and that their time on Earth was coming to a close; the spiritual war was about to reach a fever-pitch and destroy them.

Of course, the commanders were shaken, as the shamen had spoken true. The commanders were demon-possessed and evil, and they knew what they were doing—at least the entities who were possessing them knew what was going on.

Dropping a huge bomb on the village would have been their first choice to eliminate the shamen, their knowledge, and their people, but that would raise too much attention and too many questions. So they sent in an assassination team to do it on the quiet side. “Bring me their heads!” was what one of the commanders had actually said to the four-man team, who didn't know if their commander was kidding or not.

The four men parachuted to the ground in the village at night, with their night vision goggles on. To say they were surprised to find the village awake and with a hundred spears pointed at them would be an understatement.

The soldiers knew they could start shooting and would kill a number of the villagers, but there was no way they could get them all before having to reload. Then, they'd be stabbed to death with the sharp spears. So, they didn't shoot.

The villagers took the four men prisoner. First, the four men were stripped of their uniforms and weapons and placed in a hut. Then, they were given a plant medicine brew in their water by the shamen, who watched over the men as the strong mixture took hold of them.

Once the men started to become intoxicated, they tied the men down to stakes, as they were all carrying around demons and needed to have them exorcised. The two shamen danced around the four men all night, shaking their rattles with shells and bones, beating drums, playing flutes, and singing.

The men's spirits came out of their bodies, and the men were shocked! The shamen could clearly see demons attached to the men and chased the demons away, then they cleansed the men's spirits before they went back into their bodies.

The men woke up the next day feeling better than they had in years but also bewildered. None of them had had such a spiritual experience before. The shamen talked with the men, for they knew their language. Somehow, the shamen seemed to know many languages.

They counseled the men, helping them understand what had happened to them, how they had been possessed by demons and that the evil deeds they had done were not strictly their faults.

The men felt remorse and asked what they could do now, to make amends for the terrible things they had done in the service of their demonic masters. The shamen told them about the Guild, and that they should leave their military and join them, so they could fight on the side of good.

The shamen devised a plan where they would leave their village and lead their people deeper into the jungle, to another uncharted place where they would not be found for years to come, they hoped. They said they had received spiritual guidance to move to a new place that would be safe.

The shamen would let the four men go, as they were now cleansed and transformed. The men agreed not to go back to their old lives, having been through what they had experienced—now that they had a spiritual awakening.

There was some fear on their parts that their old employers would track them down, but then again, these four men were hired killers, so they would be able to defeat most any attacks coming upon them. Plus, with some spiritual techniques the shamen had taught them, like how to use their ESP abilities, they would be almost undefeatable warriors.

The four men watched the villagers disappear into the jungle, taking their wisdom with them, then they found their own way out of the jungle, on the run from their own people. Luckily, each man in the team had been young and single, without a family to be threatened by their desertion; a requirement that the special ops group liked in their members, as then they had fewer restrictions on their missions.

The four men knew their old lives were over, and they wanted it that way. They were skilled in building new identities anyway, as part of their training, something they'd done countless times in foreign countries they worked in. They would now be able to use those skills to survive on their own.

Once they got back to a city, they disappeared into the crowd and made contact with the Guild, just like the shamen had instructed them to. From then on, the four men became valuable members of the Guild, training others with their special ops knowledge and also psychic tools they had learned, forming the armed division of the organization. The Guild didn't prefer violence or force, but they did use it to protect and defend themselves when needed. 

Now was such a time.

It was night. The four men boarded a helicopter on the roof of a Guild building in Mexico, nearest to where the RV was found, where they had been waiting for the order to move out. The helicopter looked like any other vehicle used by the rich to move about. It had landed on the office tower and picked up the four men in business clothes, whisking them away.

In the 'copter, the men changed into their battle gear, all black fatigues and night vision goggles. They checked the weapons that had been waiting for them and donned their backpacks filled with gear they might need to rescue Lang and the others.

The men were let out of the helicopter at the remote farm where the RV was. The 'copter then took off again, going into hiding in an area near the edge of the restricted zone, close to the mountain they would be heading for soon. 

The RV was unguarded and hadn't been opened again since Lang had left it, the readout that one of the men carried said. He had the code and popped the door open. They drove the RV near the mountain, then parked it by the side of the road.

They then walked quickly in the other direction, leaving the RV as a decoy. The plan was to walk right up to the hidden mountain door, which was accessible from a roadway.

They knew that they only had minutes before they were apprehended, skeleton crew on a drill or not, so they set the explosives quickly but well, in several locations around the mountain.

They blew the charges on the door first, as that would be their best way in. The other charges went off right after, causing damage to other areas of the mountain and would be good diversions for the few guards that were on duty.

Then, the four men waited by the door. Sure enough, the guards from the base came tearing round the rubble in ATVs to see what was going on. They were easy targets, and the four men took their IDs and ATVs, and went in the way the men had come out.

Since the base was understaffed, the blast doors had been left open in the inner tunnel of the base. Once the four men had gotten through the outer door, it was a straight shot right inside, shooting all who opposed them as they rode on in.

The leader of the four drove them forward, tossing hand grenades around corners, taking out any opposition, and there was little with the few soldiers on staff. Most at this base were technicians or researchers, who went running for their lives at the first sign of trouble. It wasn't long before the four came to the holding area.

They broke open the holding cell with plastic explosives and led Lang and the others outside, where the helicopter was waiting for them. They had to run, as word had come from the helicopter that backup troops were on their way, the invasion having been reported. Also, the action had been seen on the cameras inside the mountain by another base. The RV was already on the move, driven by one of their associates who would hide it.

As they got onto the helicopter, Lang saw military trucks arriving in the distance, their headlights bouncing along. They had gotten away just in time. “Thank you,” Lang said to the four. “But I don't even know who you are. The Guild sent you?”

“That's right,” the leader of the four said. “But no names, we prefer to keep a low profile. Ben Veers sent us. Just call us The Four.”

“Alright. Good job, Four!” Lang smiled.

The helicopter flew low and fast over the landscape, taking the passengers to the village near the seaport. From there, they were loaded on a truck and driven to the port where they would find a ship waiting to sail them away, all arranged by Veers.

“Thank goodness we have friends like Ben Veers,” Lang told them, as they rode to the seaport. Charles looked out the window at the towns going by, wishing he had time to stop and enjoy them, to get to know the way of life there a little, as it looked like a tropical paradise. But maybe another time, he thought.

What he didn't see, nor did any of the others, were some of the Watchers floating nearby in their energy bodies. They had made themselves invisible, just wanting to watch the rescue operations. They did, by virtue of their high vibrations, lend an aura of luck to the rescue, but they didn't directly interfere. They were pleased that these good people had been rescued, and that the work of the Watchers was going to continue on with them.

They did permit Lang a momentary glimpse of a flash of light out of the corner of his eye, as he was sensitive to the Watchers and had spoken with them in medium sessions over the years.

He felt an urge to lift the flap over the back of the truck and look behind them. Maybe seeing if they were being followed. He noticed the flash of light and felt the vibration of the Watchers, who he had felt many times over the years on his spiritual journey. He smiled to himself as the truck whisked along, no one else being any the wiser, he knew.

CHAPTER 43

The truck arrived at the port just as dawn was breaking and parked behind a busy market area where many vendors were unloading their wares for the day. Amongst the strong smell of fish, The Four, now changed into civilian clothes and with no obvious weapons, led Lang and his group through the market.

They were able to grab some food to eat as they passed by, as some of it smelled so tempting, like hot waffles. They'd not eaten since their capture, so The Four permitted a few minutes to get some food to go while they stood watch.

Then it was across the dock and straight into a ship that had been arranged to carry them, the Destiny. It was a large shipping vessel, empty after delivering its cargo from Europe and now bound back home. There was ample room on the ship, as most of the sailors were not there; it was running with only a lean crew for the journey back. The captain of the ship was in the Guild, so he'd made sure there were plenty of cabins for his new passengers. There was even a helicopter on the ship, should they need to make a quick escape.

The ship cast off at once, The Four and the captain on the lookout for any trouble at the pier, but there was none. It seemed they had gotten away just fine. The captain then went below deck and checked that his passengers were comfortable and had all they needed for the journey. Even The Four were able to relax a bit, knowing that all the crew on the ship were armed against pirates and anyone seen trying to intercept their ship that was not a government boat would be seen as a pirate.

Lang lay in his bunk and thought things through. He didn't expect that the government would try and stop the ship, if they even knew about it. He didn't even know which government for sure had the base he and the others had been held in. It could have been from any country, not just the physical country the base was located in, he knew. And, in these days of “globalism” the borders between countries and governments was quite blurred anyway. He took a brief nap before what the captain had promised to be a large dinner in their honour.

When dinnertime came, the captain was good to his word, putting his chef to good use—and the chef was a much more accomplished one than usually worked on a ship, the portly captain had seen to that! After dinner, the captain took everyone topside for a look at the sunset, drinks in hand, and cigars for who wanted them.

“To a great future!” the captain said and clinked glasses with them all.

“I'll drink to that!” Lang said. He noticed that the captain was careful not to speak about any details of their escape or capture out in the open, and he was glad of that. There were still a few crewmembers on the ship and not all of them were Guild members, but some were.

“How long will the trip take?” Charles asked, then puffed on his cigar, the smoke drifting out over the open ocean.

“About six days, should the weather hold. We're not built for speed, lady and gentlemen,” the captain said with a flourish and bowed, indicating the professor's wife Wendy.

“You've been sailing a long time?” Charles looked over the captain with his white hair and white beard.

“Most of my life, aye matey!” the captain boasted.

“Never fallen off the edge, yet, huh?”

The captain looked at Lang, then back to Charles. “No, have not. But, if you really want to see something...”

Lang burst in, “I thank you for your hospitality, captain. But, I need to have a conference with my scientists, here. We've fallen behind in our urgent work, as you know.”

“Certainly.” The captain straightened up, growing more sober.

“There's a secure computer and phone I can use?”

“My office has them, come, I'll show you.” The captain led them off the deck.

“Charles? Professor? Could you come meet with me, won't take long. Half an hour at most, just to get caught up with Prague and find out our next steps,” Lang said.

“Sure. Be back soon, honey,” the prof said and kissed his wife.

“Alright,” Charles said, following after them, puzzled at what the captain was going to say. They clanged down the metal steps to the below deck area of the ship, deep inside the hull.

The computer setup was the same in the captain's office as Lang had been used to: a military-grade laptop that was specially constructed to not only be impervious to physical harm like drops, water, vibrations, and dust, but imbued with sacred geometry symbols, crystals, and advanced spiritual technology.

“What’s all that stuff on the laptop?” Charles asked. “The other one you've had was the same. It looks pretty custom.”

“Yes,” Lang said, sitting down in front of the computer and touching it. “This is another very special machine. You won't find it on the open market.” The captain watched, smiling, and puffed on his cigar.

“Why's that?” Charles asked.

“It's very expensive for one, a military-special order that we were able to get through some connections. Once we get them we install our own custom operating system and encryption tools, plus security features on special chips. Then, we get into the etheric protections.”

“Etheric?”

“I don't have time to go into it all now,” Lang said, opening up the machine and having his fingerprint read by it. “Suffice to say it has to do with sacred geometry and spiritual energy, for now.” The machine turned on and prompted him for a code. “Please turn away while I enter the code.” The prof, Charles, and the caption all faced the other way. Lang entered the code. “Thank you.” They turned back.

Lang opened up some menus on the screen, connecting to Prague.

“I'll see you all in a bit,” the captain said. He waved and left the room.

“So, what’s with this computer?” Charles asked, still curious.

Lang patted the side of the computer. “This machine has not only hard, physical defenses against intrusion, but it has protection on the astral level, by way of these symbols that are on it. They are sacred geometry forms, and also forms of our own designs. We've also added certain crystals to it that have been programmed with certain protective thought forms.”

“Thought forms?” Charles looked closer.

“Yes,” Lang continued, “and also certain technology that contours the orgone energy field to our advantage, for our protection.”

“I'm not sure if I believe in all that stuff...” Charles said.

“This coming from the man who had his own astral travel experience back through time via his DNA and found evidence of alien tampering on the genetic level?” Lang smiled. “It's not easy to get used to these sorts of things when one has been brought up their entire lives to believe in something other. But I assure you, these things are very real, and we know how to work with them. If we get a chance after our work is done, I'll be happy to give you a course of instruction on all of these esoteric matters. But right now, we need to push forward with our work. Our enemies don't rest and neither can we.”

Charles and the prof looked at each other and shrugged, then looked back at Lang.

“So,” Lang said, reading a message on the screen, “it appears that Prague has been making good progress on our DNA repair mission.” He scrolled through a few screens, looking at charts and graphs. “Good, good!”

“What's it say?” the prof asked.

Lang spun around in the swivel office-type chair. “I think that we're in pretty good shape. The work both of you have done has advanced their understanding, but they have some questions for you. Sit down, we'll go over them, and I'll type your answers back to them.”

“You mean this thing doesn't just read your mind?” Charles grinned.

“Not yet, but maybe the next model!” Lang said. He spun back around to the screen.

Charles raised his eyebrows and looked at the prof again, not sure if Lang was joking or not. Thoughts of getting technology from aliens crossed Charles's mind, but he'd have to wait until another time to ask Lang about that one!

“So, when are they planning to start releasing the cure?” the prof asked.

“Cures,” Lang corrected him. “There is going to be a multi-phase approach. The one you are working on is going to be ready soon, they tell me. They want to know about certain protein binders...”

The meeting went on longer than anticipated, and by the time they were done, Wendy was already in bed in one of the cabins. The professor made his way inside and undressed as quietly as he could, but he needed to put a light on in the strange place.

Wendy stirred. “How'd it go?”

“Oh, sorry to wake you!”

“That's OK. I wasn't really sleeping anyway. Must be seasickness, or maybe something I ate.” She rubbed her stomach.

“They must have some pills for that around here. I'll go ask.” He started to button his shirt up again.

“No, it's fine. It's not that bad. So, what happened? I'm curious.”

“Well,” he said, sitting on the bed. “They've made some real progress in working out the cure. We answered some concerns they had, but really, I think they've got it about sewn up at this point. I think we're just along for the backup crew, now.”

“But your work was very important to them, don't forget that.”

“Oh, I'm not. There's just not a lot for us to do right now. But, I guess if anything goes wrong we can lend a hand.”

“That's a better attitude.” Her face brightened.

He finished getting undressed and slid under the covers with her. “Are you sure you don't want me to get you anything?”

“Just you.” She hugged him. He reached out and shut off the light. They lay together in the dark, listening to the sounds of the big ship moving in the sea.

After a time, she asked, “What's going to happen when they let out the cure?”

“I'm not sure. It's going to be hard to get every person, and every plant, and animal with it at once, of course. I think they're going to start in one area and spread out from there. Eventually the species that are cured will reproduce and spread the cure to their offspring, so it will propagate that way. But they are also going to distribute the cure in different ways, I understand.”

“Like what?”

“Well, our cure is centered around actual physical interaction with the DNA and certain substances, so it will have to be put into the body somehow. This could be in water, in air, in food, in medicines—or all of those ways at once. But they are using more methods than that. Some kind of energy medicine that I don't quite understand yet, to do with frequencies...shooting the healing frequency into the subject's bioelectric field. It makes sense to me in theory, but I've yet to see it done. There are other things, too, which they are keeping to themselves. I wish they'd spill the beans!”

“I'm sure they will in time. They probably are just keeping things quiet to safeguard them from their enemies.”

“And we know those are real. I'm sorry I got you into this, lost our house, and everything...”

She touched his face with her hand. “It's alright. We can get those things back. This is a very important thing you are helping them with. I'm proud of you and wouldn't want you to give it up.”

“Thank you,” he said, and kissed her. Then they tried to get some sleep, which wasn't hard, as they were exhausted.

Lang stayed up late that night, alone, working on the computer, getting caught up on assembling the plans for the first stage of the cure.

He made several trips back and forth with his teacup to the kitchen of the ship, which had been left open for his use. There was some food for him to munch on too, some tasty leftovers from the chef. Lang stood in the kitchen under the fluorescent lights, holding open the door of the big fridge, taking out things to eat.

The captain came into the kitchen, startling him. “How goes?” the captain called out.

“Oh! You scared me!” Lang fumbled with the food in his hands, almost dropping it.

“Sorry! Midnight snack. Past midnight!” The captain checked his watch.

“I hope I haven't been keeping you up?” Lang had been worried that the office attached to the captain's state room would offer too little sound protection to be working in it while the captain slept, or tried to.

“No, no! That office is pretty sound proof,” the captain said, pouring himself some coffee.

Lang looked at the coffee pot. “Good. Won't that stuff keep you up? It's got to be a few hours old, at least!”

“Naw. Take more than that to keep this old captain from his rest. How's your work going?”

“Fine.” Lang sat down at one of the tables and let the food tumble out of his arms.

“Good chef, huh?” The captain pointed at one of the chocolate desserts that Lang had selected.

“Very good.” He dug into the dessert. “I need my energy. I've fallen behind with our plans.”

“Things are still on track?”

Lang nodded. “I think we'll be fine. The first window of opportunity is coming up, and with any luck, and no further major delays, we'll make it.”

“Good, and just in case you were going to tell me any more details, don't!” The captain looked around the room. “I have this place swept for bugs on a regular basis, but you never know.”

“I won't say another word about the details. Suffice to say that I'm very happy for your help. We really couldn't have done it without you.”