Noah II The End of the Rainbow

By Andy Kinane

Noah II is a 64,000-word international murder mystery/adventure set in the near future. Papa Jon, a beloved father and an icon of democracy, is murdered in financially trouble Greece. Following the funeral, his family pursues the killer across Europe and the Middle East.
The family travels to Egypt to rescue Jon's daughter and pursue the murderer. In the process they discover a sinister international organization (NEOCAP) that almost captures them, and visit a newly discovered Noah’s Ark. Meanwhile there are increased deteriorating and business and economic concerns worldwide.
Eventually, they return to the United States where they face a financial collapse. People turn to barter, coops and script to survive. As international conditions become worst, especially in the Middle East, leading to nuclear war and a comet of chastisement they take refuge with other small God-fearing groups. They are miraculously preserved and survive to fulfill the prophecy of Isaiah in the Bible.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Andy Kinane
• Release date: Apr 15, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301613700

Andy Kinane

Andrew Kinane was born in Chicago and currently resides in California. He graduated with a degree in City Planning/Civil Engineering as well as Liberal Arts. As community and regional planner for over 20 years, he prepared and published a number of community studies and futuristic plans. He is also a student of economics, history, politics and philosophy, with a keen interest in prophecies regarding our times. He drew upon all of these to write his novel: Noah II, the End of the Rainbow.

Book preview

Noah II

The End of the Rainbow

By Andrew Kinane

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 Andrew Kinane

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 Tarta Greece

Chapter 2 Theopolus

Chapter 3 Pleasanton, CA

Chapter 4 Cairo, Egypt

Chapter 5 Angels Camp, CA

Chapter 6 Return to Egypt

Chapter 7 Jerusalem, Israel

Chapter 8 Home Again

Chapter 9 Paris, France

Chapter 10 The Orient Express

Chapter 11 California North

Chapter 12 Last Call to Paris

Chapter 13 The Darkness

Chapter 14 Omega and Alpha

Chapter 1 Tarta, Greece

In the early morning, the salty mist rolled in off the ocean. Jon Annatolis scanned the houses for signs of life. He rose before dawn and walked in the cool morning air as he had for decades. In spite of his age he is considered an icon of democracy by many in the village for his efforts to save the republic in Greece during the dark days of the Cold War and his efforts to solve the financial crisis in modern Greece. He became a regular sight over the years, many people had come to think of him as part of the their own family. Some fifteen years ago, as a young woman was sitting in the sun, with her child in a stroller, he offered the baby girl a chocolate mint stick surprise, a village favorite. She accepted and gleefully called him, Papa. The name stuck. From that moment on, he was Papa Jon.

A cool mist blew past Papa Jon’s face. It quickened his step, refreshed his spirit and added life to his morning walk. As his thoughts drifted to the coming day, the hollow echo of footsteps on the ancient cobblestone street snapped him back to the moment. He spun to face the approaching sound. A sneer on his face, two eyes full of anger and hate stared back at him. He recognized the dark eyes, but from where, from when?

A black object shone in the man’s hand!

A flash of light!

Papa Jon started to speak, but the words never formed. He heard the loud explosion as a bullet tore into his body. An intense pain knotted his stomach and radiated outward. He gripped his chest. His knees buckled. The world turned black, as the sound of the retreating footsteps faded.

*****

Papa Jon’s oldest son, Fred, who lived nearby, heard a knock at his door. When he opened, a neighbor shouted, "Your father been shot!

Fred ran to the scene. A priest, he knelt by his father’s body. He starred at him in disbelief. No, no, he sobbed. Dear God, why?" Tears streamed down his face as he gave the Last Rites to his own father. As his father lay dying, Fred thought back to the very day when he first became a Catholic priest, never imagining he would be administering the last sacrament to his own father.

Shortly, sirens blaring, the police responded to the shooting. Papa Jon was barely moving when they arrived. Dying, he turned to Fred, whispered in his ear; clenched both fists hit them together and died. After giving Fred a little time to recover from the shock, the policeman asked Fred, What did he say and what do you make of the clenched fists?"

Fred bent back over his father, who lay there with his two hands still clenched. He said, "His last word was Susej. As for the clenched fists, my guess is that it’s a sign of conflict.

*****

Two days later they buried Papa Jon following a funeral mass held in the village church. A classic country church with two Greek columns at either side of a small entryway, it was complete with steeple, topped by a gold cross.

Dave, Papa Jon’s younger son, gave the eulogy: "I am sure everyone in the village knew and loved my father. He fished in the Aegean Sea with many of you. His efforts to preserve democracy in Greece during his lifetime and especially during the early Cold War period are well known.

Even though we disagreed about staying in Greece when I left for America, I still loved him. And let there be no doubt, I and my family are personally committed to pursuing his killer and bringing him to justice."

Following the service, Papa Jon’s family and several of his friends gathered around the burial site adjacent to the church. Dave, the younger of Papa John’s two sons stood by his wife Jane and their son Mike.

She was petite compared to Dave and tastefully dressed in black except for her red hat, reflecting an independent streak. Their son, Mike, also was there. He managed a borrowed sports coat for the occasion, evident from the fact that it did not fit.

As a group, the mourners were packed with emotional but most were subdued – still recovering from the shock of the murder. However, Fred’s eyes' watered and Jane sobbed. She was overcome with emotion as her thoughts flashed back to Papa Jon’s visit last summer when Dave and his father were reunited after being at odds for many decades. Their final hug at the airport, the memory of Papa Jon yelling Go Mike! at the soccer game and his morning walks with their daughter Sue Ann (as Sue Ann said, "Grampa had some whopper fishing tales) and Jane, herself, enjoyed his interesting tales of Greece. Sue Ann was extremely disappointed she was sick and unable to travel to the funeral.

Dave shifted from one foot to the other as he nervously scanned the crowd for anyone who looked suspicious while at the same time felt guilty for worrying about his business problems back in California, he almost canceled coming at the last minute.

Following the eulogy and burial, Dave asked Fred, Have the police any idea who dad’s assassin is?

Not much, said Fred. A neighbor looked out when he heard the shot. He saw only a dark figure fleeing in the early morning as the sun came over the edge of the mountains.

Before Fred could continue and while he was still shaking hands with the mourners that were leaving the cemetery, a van pulled up in front of the church. Stopping too fast, its brakes squealed. Painted a light blue with a green logo, a circle with the letters JB inside, the van had a sign in yellow splashed over the side: JAZZ ANYONE? Out popped a woman and three men dressed in black and white carrying brass musical instruments. Fred waved to one of the men, who came over to Fred and asked, Are you ready?

Fred nodded, pointed to a strip of sidewalk in front of the cemetery, Why don’t you set up over there. We’ll begin shortly.

With that they gathered together and started blaring out jazz while the woman sang, When the saints come marching in.

Dave, taken by surprise, blurted, "What’s this all about?’’

Oh, I forgot to tell you, this was dad’s last request before he died. You know he was always a fan of jazz. He said we should have a party for his funeral, not a dirge.

Dave smiled, Something like an Irish wake.

Yeah. Pointing to a couple of red and white sawhorses furnished by the village to barricade the street, Fred continued, "Can you give me a hand with them?

Soon they set up tables in the street and started serving food and drink, featuring gyros and carpuzzi. The band played, so it quickly became an old-fashioned street dance and party. As they relaxed at one of the tables together, Fred reached into his pocket and handed Dave a letter from their sister, saying, Oh! By the way, Mira sent a letter from Egypt to Papa Jon shortly before he died. It included a sealed green envelope addressed to you. It was in his pocket the day of the shooting.

Dave looked at the letter from his sister, smiled and put it in his pocket. He queried after a moment, Is there any possibility that someone locally could be involved in Papa’s death?

Leaning on his elbows and pausing a minute Fred said, It’s possible, I suppose. Why don’t you stay on a few more days? There’s a folk festival in a nearby village. I think you’d enjoy it and you would get a chance to meet some of the local people.

I’ve an important business meeting back in California but perhaps Jane and Mike will take you up on your invitation. He didn’t show it but he had mixed feelings about leaving. Even if he and his father had drifted apart he was anxious to help find his killer. However, a phone call he’d received from his business partner was urgent, so he just couldn’t stay.

Jane and Mike agreed. Mike turned to Dave, Dad, can you loan me a few euros before you leave? Dave nodded indifferently, reached for his wallet, pulled out a bunch of ten-euro notes and handed them to Mike.

*****

A little while later, Dave was driving the curvy road leading to Athens, but still wondering about the mysterious death of his father, he ran off the road and nearly crashed into Tarta’s welcome sign. He quickly looked up, and as a smile came on his face, he was amused and slightly melancholy as he read its claim: The Birthplace of Greek Democracy. The overcast and cloudy weather sure fit his mood. As clouds of dust followed behind the car, he remembered that he was Greek and proud of it. He had classic features but his face was marred with a short but noticeable scar above his left temple - a daily reminder of a nearly fatal car accident years ago. He still carried the resentment against those early days in California when, as a new immigrant to America, he wasn’t always welcome. Dave certainly had mixed feelings about coming to the funeral. He and his dad had been at odds when Dave left Greece and the family business years ago.

So while he had done the dutiful thing and had come to the funeral, he was happy to be going home. Smiling, he suddenly thought of his daughter Sue Ann and wondered what mischief she might be up to this time.

*****

A few days after Dave’s departure for California, Jane and Mike went to the festival by the sea. At the top of a cliff above the beach and fishing harbor, they stopped to overlook the scene. Fred pointing to his left said, There’s the fishing village and its small harbor. Immediately below us is the beach where we hold the festival.

Jane inhaled the fresh salty air from the sea, reacted with a pleased expression, So colorful, just as I pictured it.

Mike shaded his eyes from the sun and looked towards the water. Are those the fishing boats lined up along the beach?

Yeah. Fred looked the other way and pointed, That channel opens to the Mediterranean Sea.

His wife Thera nudged Fred, Tell them about the Christ statue.

Oh yes. It is proposed to erect a statue of Christ in the middle of the channel as a means of blocking winter storms.

Thera added, with a smile, They hope to have people make pilgrimages to pray at the site. They are hoping prayer will help the people of their village spiritually as well.

Glancing at Thera, Mike, a young man in his twenties and more interested in sports than religion, said, Sounds like the statue might block the storms but as far as the people making pilgrimages praying for the villagers, I doubt it.

This remark upset Jane but she only bit her tongue and smiled.

However, Fred countered, Others suggest a small monastery.

Now I like that idea, said Mike, now smiling again. The monks could catch fish right outside their door.

Turning to Mike, Thera said, It is said monasteries bring good fortune while prisons bring bad.

Mike was amused but getting hungry. He rubbed his stomach as he asked Fred, How about those fish you promised?

O.K., Fred said. To our right is the path down to the beach. He turned and started along the path.

They worked their way down the steep cliff by a series of steps following terraces cut into the side of the cliffs that led them to the beach. The sky glowed, the setting sun reflected off fluffy clouds on the horizon. As they reached the beach, the multicolored boats caught Jane’s eye. She said, A Greek sunset with fishing boats along the shore, just as I would have imagined it. When is the folk dancing?

The tradition here is food first, then dance, answered Fred, as he pointed to the tables being set up a little ways down the beach.

Sounds good to me! Mike agreed. When do we eat?

Soon as the blessing of the fleet is finished, answered Fred.

As he glanced along the beach, Mike spotted a plane in the sky coming over the beach. What’s that plane doing up there?

Fred said, What do you mean? They fly over this area from time to time.

Yeah, but it looks like something’s coming out of it.

Jane had heard of troubles in the Middle East and nearby in the Balkans. Showing alarm and glancing up, she asked, Not bombs, are they?

This got Fred’s attention. He didn’t know what they were but he didn’t think they were bombs. He answered, No, looks like multi-colored balloons. No sooner than he had finished saying that than blue, green, yellow and red balloons began hitting the beach.

Mike ran down the sandy beach and picked up the nearest one. Something’s inside. It says Neocap on the outside. He popped it and inside found a flyer about a meeting in Athens:

"FRIENDS NEIGHBORS COUNTRYMEN

Are You Tired of Foreign Bankers Telling

Us What to Do? Controlling Our Economy?

Want to Have Your Own Business?

Join NEOCAP!

Meeting this Weekend across from Pnyx

9:30 A.M. to 6:30 P.M. each day

666 Odus Way"

Fred said, More Neocap propaganda. They don’t care for our festival either.

Mike and Jane gave questioning glances but Fred didn’t say anything.

Jane asked, What is so bad about Neocap?

Fred’s face turned serious. The Neocap organization is intrinsically evil, a diabolic force in the world masquerading as benefiting mankind. He paused, It is central to the Neocap belief system that God doesn't exist.

This response shocked Jane, her face turned pale, but she didn’t question him further.

*****

While Fred and Jane were discussing Neocap, Mike meandered off down the beach to join his cousin George in a game of soccer. At the conclusion of the game, George grinning to Mike said, A good game even for an American. I’ve heard you’re interested in philosophy, you should meet my friend Pepi.

George called to her and waved her over. She was dressed in a black two-piece swimsuit with silver stars; her curves were in the right places and she definitely was easy to look at. Mike felt uncomfortable, sifting his feet about, in the presence of good-looking women, especially one like Pepi who sent signals that she was interested in getting closer to him.

Mike smiled, asked, What is your philosophy?

This direct question caught Pepi by surprise; she stepped back. My personal philosophy or my organization?

His eyes narrowed, as Mike asked, What organization?

This brought a mysterious smile to her face. I’m a member of a secret society.

Curious, Mike asked, What does it do?

Smiling, she replied, It’s out to make everyone a capitalist. After a pause, she added, It advocates materialism. It means everyone owns property and a business or livelihood, not just the rich.

Sounds like an ideal materialistic society, Mike said sarcastically.

She frowned but before she could answer, a friend pulled her away saying, We’re late, let’s go.

She is an attractive girl, thought Mike, his eyes lingering as he watched her get in a car and drive away. As he turned, he saw his mother waving.

George nudged him saying, Hey, you hungry?

You bet. Hurrying back down the beach towards Jane, they were just in time.

Fred had finished the blessing of the bountiful food from the sea. A procession with children carrying colorful banners went from boat to boat, ending at the banquet table.

Hope you like fish, Fred said with the aroma of freshly cooked fish filling the air.

Both Mike and Jane reacted with a smile and started eating the mackerel.

As twilight fell, Fred and Mike lit the torches. Their flame not only lit up the beach but their scented smoke created a romantic setting that brought a smile to Jane’s face. It seemed to fit her. She was still attractive in the torchlight, at least in her son’s eyes.

Commenting on the scene, Jane said, Great food, bring on the dancers!

After the festival was in full swing, Fred pulled George aside and asked him about Pepi. Is she still involved with that secret society?

Don’t worry, he answered. We’re just casual friends.

*****

Even though she had been there a few days, and knew Eastern Rite priests could marry, it still seemed rather strange to Jane to be staying as a guest at a parish house where the priest came complete with wife and children. Smelling some good coffee, she joined Mike for breakfast in the main room of the house. A large crucifix and a strikingly beautiful painting of the Virgin Mary hung on an adjacent wall. As Fred sat down to a continental breakfast of coffee and rolls, Jane pointed to the painting. Is that an original?

Fred was smiling and enjoying breakfast but at that question, the smile left his face. Yeah, a parishioner painted it, after he returned from Medjugorje.

The eyes look so imploring but yet mysterious.

Fred relaxed slightly, They do have singular beauty. The painter sketched them after talking to the Medjugorje visionaries.

Visionaries? Mike asked.

They claim to have seen and talked to the Virgin.

Mike’s eyes narrowed. Do you believe in the apparitions?

I‘m on the fence. Parishioners come back with varied opinions.

What’s the Virgin’s message? Jane asked.

Fred paused. The main message seems to be personal reform.

However, Jane persisted. Some claim that there is a certain urgency that if we don’t reform soon it will be too late.

That could be, but individually we don’t know when we'll die, so reform is always urgent, isn’t it? answered Fred.

On that point they were about to drop the topic but Jane had a final question, Yes, but that being so, why would Our Lady be appearing at Medjugorje?

Fred looked her in the eye with one of his penetrating gazes and said,