"Nephilim - 03 - The Revealing" - читать интересную книгу автора (Marzulli L A)

Von Schverdt reached into the box and flipped a switch, waited a few seconds, and then fitted the palm of his hand over a red knob, giving it three turns to the right before pushing it in.
The relative quiet of the hangar was interrupted as the men heard a loud crack. Then, with a rush of air, the large concrete panel in the floor began to open. Von Schverdt led them over to the edge, where the group of men watched as the rectangle dropped a foot beneath them before it disappeared. "Here ... the stairs." Von Schverdt reached down and pulled up the last section of handrail, then fastened it to the side of the opening.
Colonel Dougherty gasped, "I don't believe it."
Von Schverdt chuckled. "You are looking at one of the crafts that was given to us." And he pointed to a metallic-looking silver disk that rested on the floor forty feet below
Von Schverdt saw the mixture of fear and uncertainty as Colonel Dougherty asked, "By them?" and pointed to the sky.
"Yes, but not there." Von Schverdt gestured upward with his index finger. "They are beneath us, Colonel, deep within the bowels of the earth. They have an extensive tunnel system that creates a grid underneath the planet. Like I said earlier, they have been here for thousands of years."
Von Schverdt saw, to his satisfaction, that Snow White and Dumbo looked shaken, as did the MPs. "I have something I think you will find of interest, Colonel," Von Schverdt said, "but you must go to my private office." He smiled.
Dougherty looked to Dumbo and Snow White, and both gave a nod of approval. "Good, then if you will follow me." Von Schverdt began to descend the stairs, followed by Colonel Dougherty and the rest of the men. They reached the bottom and Von Schverdt waited for the group to assemble before he continued. He flipped a switch, and the lights came on. Air ducts and water pipes ran along the ceiling. A cluster of thick electrical cables ran along the floor.
Von Schverdt watched with satisfaction as Colonel Dougherty and his men walked around the saucer, touching it, examining it.
"Where's the power source, the engine?" Dumbo asked.
Von Schverdt shook his head. "I can assure you that it's unlike anything you have ever imagined ... but again, if you will all?? me to show you my private office, much of what you ask is there."
Colonel Dougherty looked tense, as if he expected some sort of trap.
"Colonel, what are you expecting? I'm unarmed, and as you can see, the base has been abandoned, ja?"
"Draw your weapons, men," Dougherty ordered, and the MPs drew their .45 automatics.
"I can assure you, Colonel, that this is not necessary, but I understand. You don't trust me," he said matter-of-factly.
Dougherty tightened his lips and looked to the other men for agreement.
Dumbo cleared his throat. "It might be a trap."
Snow White nodded. "I agree, sir, the guns are cheap insurance."
"The MPs' weapons stay at ready," Dougherty said.
"Suit yourself, Colonel," Von Schverdt said, and led them down a corridor past several prototypes that were in various stages of construction. He showed them what remained of blueprints and schematics that were strewn about the floor, evidence of a hasty departure. Except for the distant whine of a generator, the place was eerily still.
"We have done some back-engineering, as you can see," Von Schverdt offered.
"When were you last here?" Dougherty asked.
Von Schverdt shrugged. "Two weeks ago, Colonel." He stopped and pointed toward an opened door fifty feet away. "My office, just there," he said.
"Colonel, there's something in the doorway," one of the MPs said, indicating the office that Von Schverdt had directed their attention to.
"What's going on, General?" Dougherty asked.
"Look and see for yourself, Colonel," Von Schverdt said. He motioned toward the doorway with his hand and a small figure came into view
"It looks like a child," one of the MPs said.
"I assure you it's not a child," Von Schverdt replied, as a small gray being, with an enlarged head and large black almond-shaped eyes, stepped into the light. It had a thin torso and spindl? arms and pale, gray skin. In fact, the MP's description was accurate, for it did look like a helpless child.
Von Schverdt heard a collective gasp from the men behind him as they got their first look at an alien life-form.
He stopped and turned back. The MPs had dropped their guns and were holding their heads. He saw the terror in their eyes.
"Make it stop," one of them yelled. "Make it stop!"
Von Schverdt tilted his head to one side and observed the men, who had dropped to their knees. One of the MPs had begun to convulse, white foam gathering around the corners of his mouth, while the other started to bang his head against the floor.
"General, what is going on?" Colonel Dougherty shouted.
Von Schverdt raised his hands to the small figure. The MPs collapsed to the floor, both men gasping for breath.
"I could have had him kill you all," Von Schverdt said, as the alien came up next to Von Schverdt. "Now, Colonel, I want you to listen very carefully." His face hardened and took on an air of super?ority. "These are my demands."

?

1

Mr. Wyan was very clever, and so was Azazel, for they were one and the same. A Jekyl-and-Hyde supergen?us manifesting itself in the three-dimensional space-time continuum called earth.
Mr. Wyan moved about in the world of men undetected except, perhaps, for his unusual height and ugly scar that ran across his forehead over his left eye. But he was truly part of another dimension. For he was also Azazel, a fallen angel, a reptilian shape-shifter. He, along with others of his kind, had been cast down from heaven. It had been long ago in another age when he had come to earth the first time. He and the other fallen angels had taken many wives from the race of men and reproduced. Their offspring became known as the Nephilim, and they had spread out over the face of the earth.
When the deluge came, Azazel had sought refuge in the Abyss. He was enraged at the slaughter of his children as they drowned in the Flood and became disembodied sp?rits, or, as men would call them later, demons. His legions were thwarted by the barrier that the Enemy had set over the earth. The barrier had been put in place to prevent him, and the minions of the One they served, from manifesting themselves on the earth. It had been millennia s?nce they had been allowed to roam there.
But that barrier was finally broken.
It was near midnight in the city of Jerusalem. ? crescent moon peeked out through the clouds fora moment and then diappeared. The streets were deserted and Wyan moved quickly, his black trench coat trailing behind like a cape as he walked in the shadows of the closed shops and vendors. He had come to the Old City in search of the ancient scroll.
He thought about the last time he had seen it, as it was handed to a man he had come to kn?? as MacKenzie. Incredibly MacKenzie, along with the help of others, had ruined one of his plans. There were three men in particular that he vowed to destroy. Oh, how he hated them.
He concentrated on the face of the first man, Art MacKenzie, and mulled over what he had come to know about him. Hadn't he been a drunk, tended to by one of the Master's underlings? Divorced from his wife and family, and wallowing in self-pity and bitterness over the death of his son? But then the Enemy had taken an interest in this worthless sod, and the man had become free, and in such a short time had become a real nemesis. And to think ? almost succeeded in killing him. The thought sent a r?pple of pleasure through him.
Now MacKenzie was under the tutelage of the second man he despised, a man he had come to know as Johanen. But not an ordinary man . . . For some reason the Enemy had given this one power over death itself. Over the centuries, other fallen angels had spoken of him as the "Immortal One," saying that he had been assigned special emissaries to guard over him, and that he had done miracles in the sight of men and interfered with many of their Master's wishes.
The th?rd man in this loosely knit confederacy was an archeologist and old Messianic Jew, Elisha BenHassen. He had uncovered under the Temple Mount in Jerusalem one of the last remaining pieces of evidence of the Nephilim. A skeleton over ten feet in length, it was direct evidence of the union between beings like himself and the daughters of men.
Humankind, in general, had come to deny the existence of the spirit world. Good and evil, God and devil, had become things of superstition. But there were those who still knew where the battle lines were drawn. Men like MacKenzie, Johanen, and BenHassen. He thought how wonderful it would be to take these three men's heads in h?s hands and slowly choke the life out of them.