The Babylonian Chronicle: Discovery

By Michael John Dillon

As the dawn began to break, James tried to imagine how the next few scenes would play out. The Iraqi Military, armed and dangerous, were honing in on their position and would be there within the hour. David offered protection in a bid to save the artifacts, though he was still half a world away. Tom would meet with David three days hence in Greece and arrange safe passage for the artifacts, provided they could get themselves and the artifacts to Greece. Those monitoring David and Tom's recent NETSAT communications, now had those same three days, enough time to plan and intercept the artifacts en route. Their whole team was presently stuck among the ruins of Babylon with limited resources, one commercial helicopter, and a single truck heavily laden down with a ton and a half of priceless artifacts. Together, these provided little protection against a nondescript and clandestine people, hell-bent on forcibly wrestling from them, everything they had in their possession. Should they make it to the border, how do two foreigners in hostile terrain explain to a border patrol, why they must steal a part of Iraq’s national heritage and take it with them to a safer place in a foreign land, without everyone being killed in the process, and without knowing exactly where safe was!
James knew this was going to be a very, very long day... and the sun had not yet risen!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael John Dillon
• Release date: Aug 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9780463515921

Michael John Dillon

Michael is originally from Australia and currently lives in Charleston, South Carolina, with his wife Rosemary. Together, they have raised eight children and care for three of their four grandchildren. An avid student of history and eschatology since his college days, Michael brings decades of research and established facts to his writing, and weaves them together in a clear and captivating story, always posing the question: What if?

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This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are not intended to refer to specific places or living persons. The opinions expressed in this manuscript are solely the opinions of the author and do not represent the opinions or thoughts of the publisher. The author has represented and warranted full ownership and/or legal right to publish all the materials in this book.

The Babylonian Chronicle - DISCOVERY

The New World Order Series – BOOK 2

All Rights Reserved.

Copyright © 2021 Michael Dillon

Cover Photo © 2021 Michael Dillon.

This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

ISBN: 978-0-4635-1592-1

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

ZERO MINUS 75:00 hours

NEW YORK CITY

Wednesday, 9:00 pm

Linda Cooper stood before the burly, overweight Sergeant seated behind the front desk. Look, lady, I don’t make the rules, he said. "I can’t just dispatch a couple of New York’s finest on some wild goose chase, just because some crack pot comes in here and tells me they lost a body on their way to the City Morgue..."

The Desk Sergeant had lost all patience to deal with any more blithering idiots, as he always referred to anyone who irritated him, even though this one seemed at her wit’s end and appeared as flustered as he, nearing the end of Second Shift. It mattered not that she wore the medical credentials of a fellow city employee.

... and if this happened last night, lady, why the dickins did it take you a whole day before you came in here to make a report?

I had to be sure first, Linda replied softly, her expression, withdrawn and distant. If she noticed the unwelcomed don’t bother me and I don’t care expression on the face of the Police Sergeant frowning back at her from across the front-desk, she never let on. No one at the hospital knows anything about him! Not even his name!

Even now, her mind was still trying to piece together what actually happened over the previous twenty-four hours.

The Sergeant continued his blank stare, not even pretending to listen, his eyes occasionally fleeting back and forth as he was determined to find a way out of this one.

I spoke with him and he spoke back... Linda continued, … no one knows what happened after that...

She stopped speaking as she caught him looking away, appearing quite distracted. Regaining his eye contact, she snapped at him.

Look here, Sergeant, I hope I’m not disturbing you. She had raised her voice to make sure he was listening. "I’m not one of your so-called crack pots! I’ve worked in autopsy for the past sixteen years and I know dead bodies don’t talk unless they are still alive!"

If it had been anyone else being accused of not doing their job or not concerned enough to care, especially with someone standing right in front of them, clearly visibly distraught and upset, it might have made a difference and caused them sit up and take notice. But not with this Sergeant who had less than an hour to endure until his shift was over. It had already been a very busy afternoon and evening. He was tired and bored with his job for the day, and most days for that matter. With his overweight frame being required to sit on an ill-fitting stool for hours on end, he was now far from being mentally or physically alert, at this hour of the evening. Besides, he detested paperwork, especially so late in his shift, and this conversation was shaping up to be just that! Paperwork! Loads and loads of paperwork! As far as he was concerned, his mind had already left the Precinct for the day and his body was about to catch up.

The thought of having to deal with details, fragmented information at best and coming at him from all directions in disjointed statements, was simply more than he wished to delve into at that moment. Whatever it was going to take, he knew he had to do everything in his power to make this incident quickly, and absolutely, just go away.

Sliding slowly off his stool, the Sergeant gathered himself and gestured his index finger squarely at Linda, directing her to stop. Wait here, lady, he said, pausing to see that she responded to his casual order. I’ll be right back.

Leaving her standing at the front desk, the Sergeant headed straight for the snack room hoping to find someone, anyone, whom he could pass this crack pot off to, and let them deal with whatever missing body she was raving about.

To his immediate relief, Detective Ryan was there, adding sugar to his coffee and about to start Third Shift, the shift for rookies. "I’ve got a real hum dinger for you this time, Ryan, a certified nut case with a missing body and all. Just what you homicide boys like to sink your teeth into. Please do the right thing and rescue me from this schizoid before I lose it, he begged. Besides, you have to get that shiny new badge dirty sometime. You can’t stay a green-nosed rookie forever." There was decided sarcasm in his voice, as the two of them had history between them.

A woman has finally gotten you all unraveled, eh Sarge? Ryan was exacting silent pleasure from the Sergeant’s immediate dilemma. However, his statement was more of an extended joke between them than a returned sarcastic reaction.

Before his promotion to Detective only this week, Ryan had worked under this particular Sergeant for the last two years, enough time for