A Luciferian Conspiracy: Nimrod Twice Born, #2

By Lyn Pickering

A coveted prize is seized from Austria during Hitler’s Anschluss.

Heinrich Himmler creates the scenario for the seizure of a relic that promises ultimate power for good or evil to the one who possesses it.  The Castle of Wewelsberg, the holder of Himmler’s arcane secrets, is designed for one purpose: to launch the enigmatic leader of the SS into a position of supreme power. Against the backdrop of the Second World War, Himmler is on a personal quest - to find the Holy Grail.

During the occupation of Paris, a prostitute, Ruth Leiman, is abducted from the streets and taken to the SS leader’s castle.  She is a cog in the wheel of Himmler’s design for world domination. 

Simon Magus stumbles upon one of the secrets of the pyramid and his sacred relics are launched into the four corners of the known world.  A new religion is birthed, one that emulates, but undermines, the Christian faith  The Magus extends his charismatic influence to the one man who is able to promote this new faith – Claudius Caesar, the emperor of Rome.  

During the occupation of France, René de Bar an underground agent, meets Simone and a relationship is formed.  Meantime, Reinhard Heydrich, who is on a mission of his own, introduces Marianne von Ingolstadt to Karl Wolff beginning a series of events that involves murder, a change of identity, and one of the greatest double-crosses of all time. 

Well-written, finely crafted, A Luciferian conspiracy, is part of a religious thriller series that one of intrigue, romance, murder, and lust for power. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lyn Pickering
• Release date: Dec 28, 2015
• ISBN: 9781524264130

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© Lyn J Pickering 2014

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Forest of Lebanon Publications

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Published by Lyn J Pickering

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ISBN: 978-0-9946652-1-8

To my father – a soldier.

"I shall give a propagandist reason for starting the war – never mind whether it is plausible or not. The victor will not be asked afterward whether he told the truth or not. In starting and waging a war it is not right that matters, but victory.

Adolf Hitler

Although they may pierce you

Fight, resist, stand by

You yourself may perish

But keep the banner high.

Others may win the victory

When you’re laid to rest

And shall gain the glory

To which you aspired.

Heinrich Himmler

Character List – in order of appearance

PART I

Chapter 1

Gabriele Hoch heard the labouring of the engine as the vehicle approached the hotel and went quickly to the window. The snow had stopped and the first light of dawn was just beginning to filter through the curtains. The landscape was devoid of colour; trees were dark smudges on a blanket of white. She could see the headlights of the car as it negotiated the long driveway to the hotel. Two men in plain clothes took the steps to the front door and she heard the urgent rapping of the door knocker. Two others lit cigarettes and stood with their backs to the vehicle watching the building.

Gabriele sat down on the bed, her heart pounding unnaturally in her chest. Their look was unmistakable – Gestapo! It was about Michael, it must be. Had they caught him? Was he alive or dead? She tried to pull herself together; to prepare herself for what lay ahead, but panic rendered her helpless. When the two officers hammered on her door moments later and burst into the room, she gazed at them mutely, feeling that her inner being had floated away leaving her body unattended.

Where is he?

The question left Gabriele with such a profound sense of relief that she was tempted to laugh. Michael was still alive, perhaps even across the border by now, but it may still be necessary to play for time. At once every nerve in her body was fully awake and aware.

Who?

Where is the Jew!

I don’t know what you are talking about. I’m here with my husband.

The cold eyes suddenly blazed hatred.

Liar! He lashed out with the back of his hand and the blow knocked Gabriele across the bed.

Where is he?

My husband took an early train back to Berlin. Her voice was weak. The men exchanged the briefest of glances. If they had not apprehended Michael on the border, Gabriele realised, there could be only one other source of their knowledge. Her forger, Hans, had turned betrayer.

Search the building and radio an alert to all border posts! The order was issued tersely and it was received with a snap of the heels and a brief salute.

Within minutes, Gabriele heard, above the concerned voices of the hotel owners, the slamming of doors and shouts of the men. Her guard rested his gun within easy reach on the bedside table, and lit a cigarette. His movements were languid and he watched her with detached interest.

Why a Jew, liebschen? Are German men not to your taste? It seems there are always some who would prefer to eat dirt even when they are offered bread!

Gabriele’s eyes narrowed but she remained silent. A sharp rap on the door caused the officer to grind his cigarette out in an ashtray and pick up his pistol.

Come in!

He’s not in the building, Herr Kriminalinspektor!

Then I think this little lady has a few questions to answer, Gabriele’s guard suggested pleasantly.

We know Michael Segal is not your husband, and we also know he is not on the morning train to Berlin, he said. So perhaps it is time for you to drop the pretence and co-operate for your own good. Gabriele thought swiftly. There was no doubt that Hans had informed the Gestapo; there was nothing to be gained in lying. Had she and Michael worked to Hans’ plan and contacted the guide before attempting the crossing, everything would have been lost but there was an excellent possibility that Michael was already in Switzerland.

We travelled here together and had dinner, she said. Michael left shortly afterwards without saying where he was going.

This time it was the junior officer that hit her. Gabriele fell back under the blow and her hand flew to her cheek. Her bottom lip was split and there was the metallic taste of blood in her mouth.

Lying bitch! This bed has been slept in by two people, on that law alone we can convict you. You have cohabited with a member of the Jewish race and you have aided his escape from the authorities. You are a traitor to the German Volk. You won’t get away with this.

She raised her head wearily. Michael and I did not sleep together, but neither was it because he was Jewish and I, German.

The officer’s laugh was unpleasant. What! You have standards? he mocked.

What time did the Jew leave? the Kriminalinspektor interrupted.

Gabriele shook her head vaguely. I don’t remember. Perhaps around ten.

This was important to you! Your lover was leaving, perhaps forever. You would have been vitally aware of the time.

I didn’t check my watch.

Perhaps we can jog your memory? The Kriminalinspektor lit a cigarette beneath a cupped hand, habit causing him to protect the flame. Gabriele watched as he drew deeply blowing smoke from the corner of his mouth. The cigarette glowed red between his fingers as he stepped towards her.

I can give you a more accurate time.

He laughed cynically. So easy, liebling? For all your pretended scruples, you would sell your Jew without a fight?

She lifted her chin and for a moment anger blazed in her eyes. Michael left at midnight. We waited until we were certain everyone was asleep.

How did he get out?

The key was on the inside of the door.

The Kriminalinspektor glanced at his watch, it was already 8.30am. If he had managed to evade the border guards, the likelihood that Michael Segal was still on German soil was negligible. He was a small fish, hardly worth losing sleep over. The guards would have the dogs out and if he was still around they would haul him in. He stifled a yawn.

Take her in for interrogation, he ordered. Make sure they throw the book at her. We don’t need filth like this in Germany.

Chapter 2

Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up.

If the disciples of Jesus of Nazareth had at first failed to understand the implication of his words, certain learned men of the priesthood had not. During the night trial, witnesses were brought who had been prompted to focus on those words alone in order convict him. But their witness proved contradictory and Caiaphas had been forced to back away from this line of prosecution. Though the common people had understood Jesus of Nazareth to be referring to the literal temple, Caiaphas had discerned otherwise.

During Friday, the second day of the Passover and the day following the crucifixion, Caiaphas knew suddenly and with certainty that a guard must be placed at the tomb of the dead man and he waited out the remainder of the day with great impatience gathering a few of the chief priests together at sunset. It was the High Sabbath,¹ the eve of the Saturday Sabbath, a time when Jewish law restricted both work and travel but the high priest argued that the violation was necessary to prevent a national disaster. The delegation went to see Pontius Pilot at once.

Sir, they said, we remember that while he was alive, that deceiver told his followers he would die and be resurrected on the third day. Give us a guard lest his disciples steal the body and tell the people that he is arisen from the dead. Then the last error will be worse than the first.

Pilot nodded shortly, You have a watch. Go your way and make it as secure as you can.

Caiaphas accompanied the priests and the Roman guard to check that the tomb was in order but he was not content to leave it at that. The corpse was rendered shapeless by the aloes and spices that Nicodemus had packed around the body and their smell permeated the tomb cloaking the smell of death.

Uncover the face! Caiaphas ordered.

Somewhat reluctantly his servant approached the body and pushed the shroud to one side. Beneath it, the head was firmly bandaged in the manner of the Jews and encrusted with congealed blood, which had flowed copiously from the nose.

Remove the head covering!

His servant fumbled with the knot. The linen strip had been wound around several times making it necessary to lift the head and disentangle the encrusted bandage from the hair.

Caiaphas moved forward delicately, eyeing the broken face with distaste. He nodded briefly and stepped away.

It is he. Cover him. He turned and left the tomb.

The servant glanced down uncertainly at the bloody cloth in his hands, then, of habit, he folded it neatly and set it down on the earthen floor near the wall. Turning back to the body he drew the shroud over the broken face and followed Caiaphas.

An official seal was placed on the stone and the guard was set. Although he had made himself ritually unclean by his visit to the grave, the high priest slept peacefully that night.

Mary Magdalene, Mary, mother of James, Salome and Joanna set off to the sepulchre just before dawn on the first day of the week, taking with them spices they had prepared after the crucifixion for the anointing of the body. The early hour had been decided on both for fear of the authorities and out of necessity. The body had lain in the grave for three days and three nights already and decomposition would have begun to set in. It was better that they do what must be done before the heat of another day. They had no way of knowing that Nicodemus had already hastily anointed the body of Jesus before the Passover evening began. Nor did they know of the measures that Caiaphas had set in place on the Friday evening. The women would have been startled to arrive at the tomb and find a Roman contingent on guard. Their one concern as they set off on the journey was how they would manage to move the stone in order to do their work. They arrived before the sun had risen and stood in amazement.

It’s open!

Is it the right place?

I came with them when they brought the body. It is Joseph’s tomb!

They crossed the garden, clinging to one another in superstitious dread. The yawning opening of the tomb was black as pitch and, in the semi-darkness they could see, just off to the left, the heavy rock that had sealed the grave. Mary Magdalene plucked up courage and stepped forward bending down to enter the darkened cave and feeling tentatively for the shrouded body, which had been laid out on a flat rock with the head towards the mouth of the tomb. It was empty. Mary blinked in disbelief and went back to the women.

He’s not there! she whispered urgently. His body has gone!

Mary, mother of James laid her bundle of spices on the ground.

Joanna, you and Salome wait here. Mary Magdalene and I will call Peter and John.

By the time the two disciples reached the garden, the sun had fully risen. John outran Peter and arrived at the tomb first. Stooping down he looked inside and saw immediately that it was empty. The linen shroud lay to one side where it had fallen and the napkin that had bound Jesus’ head had been folded and left against the wall.

He’s gone! John said bitterly as Peter arrived breathless from his run.

Where have they taken him?

I do not know, but the others must be told.

Unable to keep up with the men, Mary had followed more slowly and arrived at the tomb after they had already left taking Salome and Joanna with them. All the pent-up emotion of the past week culminated in that moment and Mary Magdalene wept bitterly as she returned to the sepulchre and bent down to enter it.

Why do you seek the living among the dead?

Two angelic beings sat on the stone where the body had been laid. Their radiant presence filled the tomb with light so pure and unearthly that she was unable to speak.

Fear not. The one that you seek has risen. Go and tell the disciples and Peter that he will go before them into Galilee.

Mary backed away slowly; her heart was pounding and, still blinded by her tears she could not comprehend what she was seeing and hearing. As she turned from the grave, a man stood before her on the path.

Woman, he said. Why are you weeping? Who are you looking for?

She shook her head, almost unable to speak. If you have taken him, sir, please tell me where you have laid him.

Mary.

She looked up filled with amazement.

Master! She fell at his feet and reached out to hold him.

Don’t touch me, Mary, he said gently, I have not yet ascended to my Father. But go and tell the brethren that I ascend to my Father and your Father; to my God and your God.

As Mary ran joyfully back to Jerusalem, she thought of Jesus’ words: my God and your God: my Father and your Father, and her thoughts turned to the words of Ruth many centuries before.

Wither thou goest, I will go and where thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my people, and thy God, my God.²

Naomi had taken Ruth from a foreign land and brought her home to Israel. Ruth had adopted Naomi’s family, her people and her God. Mary of Magdala knew with an inner certainty that Jesus was saying she was now adopted into his family. The way had been opened for his Father to be her Father, and the Father of all who believed in the Son.

The Roman guard was in trouble. By fleeing their post when the earth shook and the stone rolled away, they had effectively signed their death warrant. No mercy would be shown under Roman law to soldiers who deserted. It was just before dawn as they re-entered the sleeping city and they faced one another uncertainly.

If we return to the Antonia now, it’s all over for us.

There’s one possibility, one soldier said. The guard was set by Pilot to help the high priest secure a Jewish sepulchre. There’s just a chance that if we go to the priests they may be able to help.

They looked from one to another with a flicker of hope and set off across the city in the direction of the Caiaphas’ residence.

The initial response of the high priest as he met with the men in his cobbled courtyard was fury.

You are lying! he charged them. Pilot will hear of this! No doubt you slept and allowed the man’s disciples to rob the grave.

No sir! the centurion answered definitely. "A Roman soldier does not sleep while on