By Killian McRae
The one strategy to store the long run is to decode the prior. the single strategy to decode the earlier is to avoid wasting the future.
Archaeologist Sheppard Smyth has staked his profession and the honorable reminiscence of his spouse and accomplice on proving his largely panned concept: Cleopatra VII, the final sovereign pharaoh of Egypt, used to be no longer a sufferer of suicide as background indicates, yet of a well-concealed homicide. whilst a statue of the doomed Queen is unearthed in a pre-Columbian excavation website in Mexico, Shep rushes to enquire and, optimistically, locate the facts that has kept away from him for therefore lengthy. The statue, besides the fact that, is barely the 1st clue suggesting a mysterious connection among Mesopotamia and Mesoamerica, and probably - past. without warning thrust into the heated competition among attractive and enigmatic antiquities thief Victoria Kent and the notorious Russian mafioso Dmitri Kronastia, Shep reveals himself a typical pawn performed via forces operating to determine out a quest older than the pyramids and cloaked within the Mayan Doomsday prophecy of 12.21.12.
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Extra resources for 12.21.12
Two to each. ” Shep smirked as he walked over to his sleeping quarters. Make that two lottery tickets. Once he was inside, the door closed behind him and was sealed. It wouldn’t be inoperable in the case of an emergency; that Shep knew. If either he or Victoria needed (or wanted) to get out, they only had to take a few simple steps to undo the locks. Shep looked at his cot to the right, and then to Victoria’s—and at Victoria herself—on the left. Under the cots and in every other conceivable nook and cranny in the small enclosure were storage boxes likely filled with official equipment, personal effects, and emergency supplies.
Um, I’ve got the basics, but I left my pastels in the Jeep,” she called up to Shep. “Would you…” Her eyes focused enough to catch Shep’s smile. “Of course, I’ll go get them. It’s my job, right? ” she shouted back as his head disappeared beyond the edge of the hole. She heard his voice trail off in response, but couldn’t quite make out the words. She leaned back and closed her eyes. For a moment, the breeze above blew at just enough of a downward draft to swirl about in the chamber. Her sense of relief as it caressed her face was short lived; in her relaxed posture she had neglected to hold down the sheaths of paper on her lap.
Understand first that this is an undisturbed site dating circa 1100 AD. ” Sheppard sighed. He was beginning to grow tired of the intrusion. “Very interesting, but still I don’t see—” “Ask me where we found them,” Hector interjected. The fragments of the find and the mystery they induced were beginning to form in Shep’s booze-hazed mind. Hector was an Olmec expert. Why would he be doing an excavation in the old world? Shep bit. ” Silence for a moment, then a single paradigm-shattering word. ” Sheppard took a gulp of air as his heart raced.
12.21.12 by Killian McRae