Ancient Footprints of Evil

By Herman Lloyd Bruebaker

When two tombs are discovered above Egypts Valley of Queens, it takes only a few days before one tomb, dated six hundred thousand years old, becomes the core of deception and bloody treachery. Multiple nations try to decipher its strange hieroglyphs. Agents are murdered and political treaties are breached. Violence threatens to explode when new evidence is uncovered. In the end, United States Naval Intelligence, bonding with Israels Mossad, stop the political wave of death.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 19, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524548124

Herman Lloyd Bruebaker

Herman Lloyd Bruebaker lives in Riverside, California with his wife and two sons. Currently he has three major projects in progress that will be released during 2018.

Book preview

Ancient Footprints of Evil

Lawrence Loughner resided in an exclusive affluent suburb not far from the national capital. It was tucked among towering forests promising the privacy he wanted. For this man finding himself frequently in the news media this was a true blessing. In his role as Assistant Navy Secretary of special covert operations, Lawrence attended frustrating conferences all day and was mentally exhausted. When negotiating with the Russians on delicate Middle Eastern affairs, the talks always ended in bitter disagreements. The last nine hours spent behind closed doors proved no different. The two super powers had suspiciously agreed Iranian influence had grown too strong after the Arab uprisings. But neither nation could agree on a strategy to halt their expanding political powers.

Ever since departing his office, Lawrence was unable to shed his uneasiness about another meeting. Four days ago, the admiral was briefed on another disturbance in the Middle East. When an minor official from the Russian embassy contacted him outside of normal channels, he suspected American troubles were heating up. Though the Iranian situation was briefly discussed, Lawrence suspected there was another undercurrent that wasn’t talked about.

There was something Lawrence needed verified. Picking up his mobile phone he was surprised it was inoperative. Then dialing the office number on his cell phone, it too was not working. Having one communication link not functioning wasn’t suspicious. But when two links suddenly were inoperative, that was cause for worry. In his line of work, this was suggestive trouble was in the winds. He patted the right waist holster for its comforting feel of his .38 revolver. After suspiciously looking around he saw no threat among the idling cars on the stalled expressway. Accidents on this roadway leading away from the capital were not uncommon.

Minutes later the traffic slowly moved forward while Lawrence kept his alertness in high gear. A quick check of his communication links revealed they still weren’t working. There wasn’t another off ramp for two miles so Lawrence knew until then he was trapped. While driving he kept a close look on the cars around him. This was unreasonable after the traffic started moving faster.

He was nearing the off ramp when two sedans quickly passed several cars behind him. Having worked ten years in naval intelligence minor things like this captured his attention. In his suspicious mind, the two cars behind his Rolls Royce were trying to catch up. He wondered if this was connected with the jamming of his communication links? It was clear somebody was electronically jamming his phone. Then from the corner of his eye he saw another car pulling alongside him. Everything was now happening too fast. With his alertness upgraded, he reached for his holstered revolver behind the suit coat. Then the passenger in the other car was motioning at him to pull over.

Not giving Lawrence time to consider the request, the automobile in his rear lightly bumped the Rolls Royce. Before he could speed up another car quickly passed and swung directly ahead of his Rolls. The director was now boxed in.

Trying to run was out of the question. With no other option Lawrence pulled onto the shoulder. Staying in his car, the naval intelligence director suspiciously watched the other cars pull off the expressway. Aggressively leaving their vehicles three men approached the black Rolls Royce.

Though no guns were visible he knew they were armed. Passing traffic paid little attention to the cars parked alongside the highway. When a short, husky business suit motioned Lawrence to step from his car, this was obeyed after seeing a revolver in his shoulder holster. This situation was not running in his favor when the suit asked for his .38. After standing outside Lawrence did so with caution.

For the moment it was folly resisting. Who are you and what do you want? Lawrence growled.

By now he was angry with himself for not resisting. But the admiral knew such a reaction would have been unfavorable for him. In a few seconds he thoughtfully appraised the situation. Two business suits were standing behind him. Another one was keenly observing his movements. No further action was taken until a short man stepped from the one car up front. Shrouded by darkness cast by nearby trees, Lawrence found it hard identifying the man.

We need to talk. informed the silver-haired man stepping from those shadows. His words were heavy with a Russian accent.

Aleksandr Pyadyshev. exclaimed Lawrence after recognizing the Russian from his past Eastern Europe clandestine operations. Once his surprise faded the naval spy chief demanded in a cold harsh tone. What’s the meaning of this?

Aleksandr mocked his shock. Is this the proper way to greet an old friend? Are we not walking the same shadowy profession?

Lawrence frowned. I hardly think so.

The Russian held up his hand for silence. Have I ever pointed out you carry grudges too long? This isn’t good for your mental health.

You didn’t stop me to discuss my mental health. So what do you want?

Be patient and shortly you’ll understand why we need to talk in private. His friendliness was abruptly replaced with a harsher mask. For a few moments the Russian thoughtfully observed the passing cars. Two days ago my agency was handed some disturbing information. But after serious discussions, my superiors found little enthusiasm for the archaeologists’ report and declassified its contents. After that, the report was downloaded to our Foreign Minister with a low priority.

Lawrence suspiciously stared at the man. What does the report have to do with naval intelligence? There was a short silence. Especially how does it involve the United States Navy?

The Russian remained stern-faced. I can assure you this report has no military connection with your country. Or for that matter, it has no linkage with political issues concerning our governments. It’s strictly an academic issue.

Lawrence was reluctant to accept his arguments. If this isn’t a sensitive issue, then why wasn’t it diplomatically dispatched through regular channels?

During a short pause Lawrence curiously watched one stony-faced gunman remove cartridges from his gun before handing it back. The forecasted storm clouds were gradually fading. Now the night wasn’t so dark and he could better see the men stopping him from going home. The agents possessed typical Russian facial features. Their expressions suggested no nonsense would be tolerated. During his nearly thirty years in the espionage game he had often seen those cynical emotions.

Lawrence, I know the relationship between our countries aren’t the best. And because of the alarming Middle Eastern situation, I again assure you this has no political or military overtures.

Clicking his fingers sent a Russian hurrying to his car and returning with a thick manila envelope which was handed to Pyadyshev. There was a short silence between the two men distrusting one another.

Strangely enough this information is more of an academic nature than anything else.

Lawrence was quick to point out. You already said that.

Yes, so I did. After reading the contents I believe you’ll be intrigued. With that said the envelope was thrust into Lawrence’s hand.

The naval official was beginning to feel he wasn’t in a dangerous position as formerly suspected. He knew this former KGB agent was currently attached to the Russian Embassy. It was Lawrence’s job to know such matters. So he thoughtfully studied this Russian whose charm was well known in Washington’s social circles. He was considered handsome and witty by the women. But this wasn’t shared by those in naval intelligence, especially by the British and American agencies.

Twice in Eastern Europe Lawrence clandestinely challenged Aleksandr and the score sheet was currently one and one. The elderly Russian had put on at least 30 pounds since their last meeting in Eastern Europe. His suspicions were elevated after Pyadyshev mentioned Moscow wasn’t interested in the information. Those cars speeding by gave little attention to the four cars stopped on the shoulder.

Then what precipitated this unorthodox meeting?

This matter is of an unique interest. But I can promise, if the matter isn’t solved no nation will fall nor will armies clash. Pyadyshev forced a weak smile. Whether or not this can be solved, the power balances between our countries will not change.

So what are we talking about?

The information contained in that envelope dates back to 1943 in Nazi Occupied Egypt. But the situation itself originated centuries ago.

A few moments passed during which Lawrence simply stared at the Russian with raised eyebrows. After holstering his empty gun the covert manager looked at the nearby gunman. When Aleksandr shrugged his fleshy shoulders, the stony-faced gunman returned the cartridges which Lawrence dropped into his pocket.

Do you mind elaborating on that? the admiral suspiciously requested.

I prefer if you thoroughly studied the file in your office. I promise you’ll make some phone calls to confirm the contents.

This was the first time Lawrence noticed the envelope had Top Secret printed in red across its top.

After reading that file I’m certain you’ll be interested. Unfortunately, my superiors failed to understand its importance. They’re too preoccupied with our air strikes in Syria and other global situations.

Walking to his car, the Russian stopped and thoughtfully turned around. Of course, this meeting never took place. With a devilish grin he waved and climbed into the black sedan.

Moments later Lawrence was left standing alone by his car wondering what in the hell had just happened. He kept thinking about that Russian’s wretched expression. Aleksandr Pyadyshev from the old KGB intelligence was the best field operative in the Soviet Union. In fact, sometimes he was too good. But those years behind a desk was showing in terms of fleshy arms and the awkwardness shown when climbing into the sedan. But there was no doubt Aleksandr Pyadyshev still had a cunning mind. If this mysterious matter was so serious then he needed the resources at his office.

While driving back to Washington, Lawrence was uncomfortable with the handful of politically sensitive coverts his agency was investigating. He certainly didn’t need another one.

A brief glance at the envelope lying on the seat raised his suspicions. Russian intelligence never offered a gift without conditions. He wasn’t surprised when his communication links were again operating. General Pyadyshev stepped outside the political box when making certain their meeting wasn’t interrupted. The closer he got to his office his impatience increased.

Chapter Two

Due to an increasing shortage of Pentagon office spaces his small command was relocated to a suite of offices on Twenty First Street. He personally preferred these arrangements because they weren’t crowded, yet, they were linked with all the electronic systems needed in his trade. His covert command was small when compared to its parent agency, the Office of Special Naval Intelligence.

Few people in the Navy knew about this small intelligence organization codenamed Zulu/Whiskey. When counting the handful of agents and administrative types, Zulu Whiskey had only sixty personnel with most working in the building and not the field. The command occupied the second floor of a small commercial building. Only authorized personnel were permitted past the lobby.

When he came in Chad Watson was waiting. After signing the security log supervised by two poker-faced security officers, they passed into their small world. Because the agency’s executive officer spent long hours in the office, Lawrence always wondered how he managed a family life?

While walking down a long hallway discreetly monitored by cameras and motion sensors, the admiral glanced at the lieutenant commander. Man, you look like hell. When was the last time you were home?

Chad ignored his question. We have trouble in the Pacific.

Their suite of offices contained a large working area crowded with desks and central communications center. It was busy around the clock seven days a week. They had thirty special coverts currently active in the field.

Update me.

I have two operatives in Yokosuka working an operation involving illegal arms shipments to Iran. Four hours ago, Japanese intelligence arresting our agents booked them on a flight back to the States.

I thought this was an American/Japanese joint operation?

It was.

Lawrence pondered the issue until reaching his office. As usual his secretary working late at her desk handed him a fistful of messages. Once inside his office, Lawrence closed the door after Chad followed him in.

After they were seated the Assistant Secretary studied his weary staff member. Chad Watson was of medium height with a firm muscular body. His black hair was always neatly trimmed while the brown eyes were enhanced by fashionable glasses. Lieutenant Commander Watson, a fifteen year veteran of naval intelligence, had worked for Lawrence the last eight years. Lawrence often visited the Watson household for dinner. Darlene Watson and Lawrence attended the same University. He had introduced them. The only thing that kept the family together was both were work obsessed. While Darlene worked in a sensitive research laboratory in Washington, D.C., Chad supervised the chasing of bad guys all over the Far East. They both worked incredibly long hours.

For a moment Lawrence stared at the envelope then made a decision. I’m pulling you off the Japanese covert. Another matter has come up. He gestured at the thick file lying on his desk.

In the following fifteen minutes he detailed his strange meeting with Aleksandr Pyadyshev. Chad quietly listened though a surprised frown did settle on his narrow face. Tonight’s temperatures in the national capital was causing the building’s air conditioning to be adjusted.

When Lawrence finished his briefing there was a disturbing silence. Not knowing the contents of that package created a suspicious reaction from the lieutenant commander.

That’s all I know at this point. Whatever this information represents has the Russians running scared. He paused for a few moments while thumping the file with a finger. How old do you think civilization is?

Chad indifferently shrugged I guess it all depends on whom you’re talking to. I’m not into archaeology like you. Brad was the one knowing all of that. But I do remember reading about finding a sunken city off India’s coast dating back 50,000 years. If Dwaravati really is that old then it predates the ancient Chinese and Egyptian cultures by several thousand years. But, of course, those believing civilization started in the Middle East will argue that point. So I guess everybody has their opinion about who is the oldest.

He tapped the file. According to archeologists there were skulls found in that area dating back 500,000 years.

Chad was confused. You’re talking in circles. How does the Indian discovery connect with whatever is detailed in that envelope? Chad suspiciously asked while pointing at the package.

I won’t know. Having smashed several Soviet coverts, I don’t remember them doing something like this.

It doesn’t make any sense. Chad argued.

I agree. Far back as Stalin the Russians were always deeply interested in ancient historical dates. So the question is why would they hand over something like this without asking for something in return? While driving to the office, I gave that question some serious thought.

And did you identify a reason?

Not one possibility. This is already raising red flags in my mind. I’m certain the Russians are sinisterly up to something and Aleksandr is its core.

Will SecNav approve involvement in Pyadyshev’s scheme, whatever that may be?

The admiral suspiciously stared at the envelope before muttering. We’ll soon know.

* * *

The admiral made a secured call and during the short connection only spoke twice. Chad found it easy observing Lawrence’s silent disagreement with his party.

After his call was disconnected the admiral was in a bitter mood. That was the SecNav. Lawrence gruffly said. He was inquiring if we were preparing a file on General Pyadyshev’s request? Hell, I haven’t even opened the envelope and already the SecNav knows about it.

Sounds like the general wants to make sure you respond to his request?

Yeah, and that has me worried.

What about the old team?

He was silent during which Chad quietly waited.

The team in question was disbanded five years ago. Stepping over to a black file cabinet Lawrence placed his eyes against a security plate. There was a brief pause while his eyes were monitored before the drawers were unlocked. After their last assignment each member went their own way in the civilian world.

Pulling out a file, he then sat at his computer and typed in a password. A single page appeared on the screen. Although our current operational files are electronically recorded, you still have to open this page to review the ops. Our operational team was involved in some nasty top secret ops during their short service. He pointed at the screen. Their operations were so secret only the SecNav and I knew what went on.

He gestured at a few names listed on the page. Do you recognize any of those names?

Esmeralda Salvador I have met several times over the last three years. When Lawrence raised his eyebrows Chad explained. Navy Intel was working with the CIA on a highly sensitive operation in the Middle East. She was called in to assist with a culture problem.

And your opinion of her?

Chad thought over the question. It all depends on what you want to hear? Performance related, the woman is a cold, nonsense bitch. Once hooked on a problem, she becomes obsessed with successfully closing out the operation. Her level of intelligence soars through the rooftop. He smiled. And she is beautiful. Where is she now?

Doctor Salvador teaches Biblical sciences at the University of California’s San Diego campus.

But she’s a Biblical archaeologist, Chad dubiously replied. How will that help us?

Lawrence was slow in replying. We may need her special skills which includes ancient linguistics. There was a short break while Lawrence gave this matter some serious thought. The SecNav scheduled a 0900 hours meeting tomorrow. At which time he wants to see our proposal for this operation. He then changed the subject. Know any of the other names?

Yes. Bradford Fisher. His expression gradually became one of surprise. Bradford is a well-known novelist. But to be truthful, I never pictured him as an intelligence agent.

Brad was an excellent agent. Like his novels, the man was always full of surprises.

When the phone rang Lawrence answered and after a brief time motioned Chad to leave the office. Afterwards he gruffly stated. Notify team Delta Foxtrot that India Romeo Victor is now operational.

* * *

After leaving Lawrence, Chad went to his office and sat down to work magic with the computer. First, he called Darlene to inform her he wouldn’t be home for several hours. There was a message saying she was at a San Francisco conference and not expected to be home until day after tomorrow. He indifferently shrugged off her departure without first calling him. This wasn’t the first time, she attended an out of town conference without telling him.

Two hours later and three cups of old coffee, Chad wearily leaned back in his chair and stared at the monitor screen. When Lawrence came in Chad was studying another cache of data scrolling across the monitor. It was proving to be another blind wall.

What are you working on?

Chad shook his head. I’m not sure. There’s strong disturbing undercurrents in the Middle East that’s not associated with terrorists. French and British operators out there are expressing the same concerns.

Well, keep your hand on their updates. But we need to concentrate on our problem. What about the team?

As ordered by the SecNav, they’ll be here tomorrow morning.

Chapter Three

Next morning precisely at 0900 hours, Admiral Loughner walked through their suite of offices. The weariness plastered across his features warned Chad, the hadn’t found a peaceful slumber and that would be right. Lawrence couldn’t put aside Aleksandr’s wretched expression during their freeway meeting. Before walking into their conference room, Lawrence felt strong jolts this mission was going to be nasty.

Even before he sat at the table his secretary brought a cup of strong coffee, laid down a operational file for his attention, smiled then silently departed the office. She had learned long ago it was brutal meeting Lawrence before his first cup of coffee. He nodded when the first team member arrived.

Bradford Fisher was tall with a face familiar with bookish people. There was something about this man that was favorably contagious, yet, at the same time suspicious. He graciously accepted a cup of coffee. The admiral quietly noted Brad outwardly was friendly, but behind those eyes lurked a spirit that could become vicious. His ten years with the United States Navy SEALS provided the sharp disciplines of a warrior. Another ten years fighting America’s enemies gained him a cloaked reputation.

Good morning, Brad.

The middle-aged man dressed in a brown tailored suit smiled. Admiral.

Brad, it’s nice seeing you again. Lawrence replied. I see your successful streak of best-selling novels hasn’t tarnished your impatience. What about your new novel what’s it about?

Brad doubted if the admiral was truly interested. It’s about a Nazi plot to uncover oblong skulls.

Did they find some?

Supposedly such a skull was discovered by the Germans while invading Egypt in 1943. The Nazis were doing more than storming across Egypt. Heinrich Himmler, as head of their SS, was obsessed with uncovering ancient mysteries. This skull raised a lot of attention. While he rambled on the admiral thoughtfully listened. There was a bushel of strange projects the SS were pursuing.

He paused and frowned. Most were so bizarre you wouldn’t believe them. But their search for the skull, according to documents, was interrupted when a stone fragment was found in Egypt. This discovery was flown to Berlin with five fighters escorting the transport.

That’s interesting.

According to a 1946 document, the crated stone was stored in a vault somewhere in Berlin. Brad helplessly held up his hands.

What happen to the skull?

Nobody knows. After the stone fragment was discovered excitement about the skull faded.

Which part of Berlin?

It would have to be East Berlin after Hitler’s Reich fell.

Does Moscow have it?

Brad was silent for several moments. Everything about that stone became distorted after Berlin’s fall. I did find a Soviet document dated January 13,1949 concerning a heavily-guarded crate transferred to Moscow.

Was that the stone?

Once the crate reached Moscow it vanished.

So in reality, you don’t know whether that crate contained the skull or stone?

Something like that.

Well, it sounds like your vague research matches our mystery operation. the admiral thoughtfully said. This package was hand delivered to me last night by General Alekandr Pyadyshev. Well, actually his men forced me off the highway.

What’s in the package? Brad wanted to know.

A few moments passed while the rear admiral again examined the pages and several photographs. Since last night he had studied the contents several times. The Russians may not control good documentation, but they’re skillful schemers when hiding something. But what bothers me is why the Russians are spacing themselves from this information?

Another few minutes passed while Brad studied the black/white photograph of a stone fragment with strange lettering. After a short time he shook his head. These inscriptions are from a language I have never seen before. He looked at the admiral. When did you say Esmeralda is joining us?

Her flight from San Diego was delayed by poor weather. She’ll be arriving later tonight. Chad informed.

Good. the novelist said. She has a way with ancient languages. Hopefully, she can decipher the fragment. But what is our operation’s objective? He kept studying the photograph of a stone fragment measuring three feet wide by three feet long.

The admiral asked. What can you tell me about that print?

It was a few moments before Brad speculated. This print is obviously from the forties or even earlier. It’s poor quality is the result of a cheap camera.

How about this report?

When Brad questioningly looked at the pages, Lawrence handed them across the table. After a couple minutes Brad laid them down. Well, the first thing I can tell you is this summary was hastily written. The second thing is the language from these pages and stone fragment are the same. The two men at the table curiously watched Brad finger the paper. I can tell you right now this paper isn’t ancient. The coarse paper probably came from the forties. Egyptian grade I suspect. But the fourth sheet is parchment of a much older date.

Lawrence finally said. I keep questioning why that stone fragment frightens the Russians?

"Hopefully Esmeralda can translate its language.

We all know understanding a Russian is disbelieving half of what is said and suspecting the other half. Shaking his head the writer returned his attention to the grainy print. It’s very disturbing General Pyadyshev would present this information without conditions. He skeptically shook his head. That’s not the way Russians does things. They always attach conditions to everything they do, especially when concerning global intelligence."

Sighing his disgust the admiral tapped his finger on the table’s surface for several moments. Until Esmeralda arrives we need to paper trail the general. Brad, find out everything you can about the man. What’s he doing in Washington? Who came with him? When did he arrive from Moscow? What department is he assigned to. What has he been doing for the last three years.

Brad cautiously asked. Why three years?

Three years ago General Pyadyshev abruptly dropped out of sight. It was rumored he was working on a project having to do with ancient Iraqi relics. That’s why I was startled seeing him last night. It was like seeing a ghost stepping from the shadows. He briefly looked at the questioning writer. We need to know everything we can quickly assemble on this former KGB official. There’s one thing that I know for sure. Alekandr Pyadyshev only investigates major issues. For him to emerge after three years is a troubling concern for me. For the general to distant himself from an ancient mystery is cause for major red flags to pop up. After my emergency meeting with the SecNav and DOD, it was agreed this matter should be thoroughly examined.

Brad became very suspicious. Are we expecting a military respond from Russia? When the admiral didn’t reply, the writer thoughtfully regarded the table’s occupants. Is there another threat moving underground?

The vice admiral did not answer at first. "Both SecNav and DOD ordered the second layer. We don’t know what Moscow is planning. We do know five hours ago the Russian chief archaeologist went behind closed doors.

Whatever was discussed definitely changed their political mood."

Do you think that meeting concerned the stone fragment?

Lawrence slowly shook his head. We don’t have a clue.

But this is chasing an ancient piece of stone?

I’m well aware of that, Major Fisher. The writer knew when the admiral addressed him by his Marine rank it was best to shut up, which he did.

Chapter Four

Deciding he needed field intelligence outside his agency, Lawrence walked to his car while thinking about Aleksandr’s his strange request. Because Aleksandr was old KGB, the Assistant Secretary of Navy would never fully trust him. After getting into his Rolls the director sat for a few moments debating what course of action to take. For the most part naval intelligence was involved in the Far East and rarely conducted clandestine operations inside Eastern Europe. So why did Moscow think his department could help them? Having no answer, Lawrence decided to confer with somebody currently conducting operations in Eastern Europe.

After making a phone call Lawrence drove to a popular restaurant to meet Bobby Webster. If anybody would know about Russian coverts, this man would. He only had to wait thirty minutes before Bobby walked in and with a thin smile sat in the booth. They both ordered breakfast.

Bobby was short with an eagle nose and oval shaped face. Those not knowing this former Navy SEAL prejudged him to be meek because of his soft spoken manners. But those few knowing his fifteen years military record, knew he was an adventurous and aggressive man driven to successfully terminate his every assignment. The brown eyes thoroughly scrutinized his surroundings without anybody any wiser. Spending twelve years as a Navy SEAL he still kept his body trim.

So what’s up? Bobby asked in his Midwestern accent. You sounded upset over the phone.

I have a good reason to be upset. I need to know what coverts the Russians are working in the States?

That’s something the FBI would know and not the CIA.

Maybe not this time. Lawrence briefed him on his meeting with Aleksandr, then waited after seeing his faint recognition of the name. So do you know if the Kremlin is running an ops in the States?

The CIA agent slowly smoothed jelly on his toast while thinking. I know Aleksandr Pyadyshev is involved in a covert trying to decipher Mohenjo-Dara.

The admiral didn’t respond at first. What’s that?

Our sources confirmed the Kremlin’s efforts were unsuccessful. From what I hear their deciphering was never completed because the language largely remains unknown. Today’s archaeologists have no idea what Mohenjo-Dara is all about?

Lawrence finished his coffee and waited while the waitress refilled. Did you know during the forties the Germans found a stone fragment supposedly mentioning Mohenjo-Dara?

The toast was near his mouth when Bobby stopped the movement. Where did you hear that? he suspiciously asked.

Without comment his abrupt question raised mental red flags. From reliable sources. the admiral slowly said.

Lawrence’s guarded reply warned Bobby that was all he was admitting. There’s such a mysterious cloud around that myth most archaeologists choose to leave it well alone. After slowly chewing a toast bite the CIA agent thoughtfully said. Did you know Mohenjo-Dara isn’t recognized as a confirmable subject and not readily talked about among respected archaeologists?

Lawrence toyed with his coffee cup. No, I didn’t know that. But I’m more concerned over Langley’s interest?

The CIA agent thoughtfully chewed another toast bite while studying the admiral. Why should the Company be interested? I never said that.

The admiral grinned. Why don’t you tell me what Langley knows about the myth?

Bobby was silent before solemnly speaking. While in the Navy, I was with a SEAL team sent into Eastern Europe on a clandestine mission. Our mission was extracting a Japanese scientist who defected to the Soviet Union at the end of World War II. This was 1997 when the Soviet political climate was more than terrible. We located the frightened little man, but during our extraction he was terminated by Russian intelligence. I always thought that event was puzzling. We were caught red-handed with the scientist. But after killing him in cold blood, the KBG showed no intention of detaining us. In fact, after the assassination we safely made it home.

Do you by any chance remember who that scientist worked for during the war?

Before our mission, we profiled Japanese Unit 731. Frankly, that World War II research/development unit scared the hell out of me. That was 1997 and now in 2010 the Russians are resurfacing with questions about the unit. His expression became very serious. I always thought the Nazis was the benchmark on sadistic experiments. That was before I knew about Unit 731.

Unit 731 and Mohenjo-Dara, Lawrence asked. How are they connected?

I don’t know. There was a faint menacing silence. "But if I was you, admiral, I would walk away from