Washington, D.C.
“Got it,” Ed said loudly as he touched the screen. He then stretched out for the first time in over two hours as far as the interior of the armored car would allow. He moaned as his aching joints creaked.
Alex noticed him moving in pain and commented, “Truth be told, your bones are getting too old for these types of extended missions by at least ten decades.”
Ed leaned forward toward his screen and replied, “Yes, of course, bones, very funny.”
Natalie leaned back, clearly exhausted herself. “You found something?” she asked.
Ed cracked his knuckles, “I think so.”
She sat next to him. “Okay,” she leaned sideways to see the screen, “may I?”
Ed pointed at the screen, “This possibly may be a lead...”
“You mean an out-of-order lead,” Alex added.
“Well, yes,” Ed replied. “Now pay attention. Going with what we have, and deriving the age of the bones of, let’s say, over one hundred years, I began my primary search here on the east coast.”
“Oh,” she said, “what prompted you to look for a geographical location?”
He pushed over his handwritten notes and then touched the page, “Here.”
She looked at the notes and then at the screen and asked, “The two hills divided?”
“Yes,” Ed said, scrolling through several pages of satellite pictures. “I did a scan with satellite imagery of the entire east coast of the United States and Canada.” He then explained, “I came up with several locations that would fit the phrase two hills divided.”
Alex seemed surprised by his comment. He then leaned over also to get a better look at the screen. “So you convinced yourself that it’s a physical location?”
“Well, not entirely, but I decided it was a good place to start.”
Natalie nodded, “I like it.”
“The computer and I,” Ed continued, “examined over seventy possible locations once I told it what to look for. And,” he said, “once I narrowed it down a bit, I told the program to replace hills with valleys and vice versa and the number dropped to just over half.” He paused and pulled up another image on the screen. “Alex,” he said, “can you please take a look at this one?”
Alex glanced at it. After a few seconds, he asked, “What am I looking at?”
Ed pointed at the picture. “This satellite image here in the lower part of West Virginia caught my attention immediately.”
“I’m not following you. This is the hill you’re interested in?”
“Yes, because if you observe how the hills cross the valley and suddenly stop, and then continue as if...”
“It’s been divided,” Natalie answered for him. “Oh, I’m sorry for interrupting, but could it be that simple?”
“Sometimes it is,” Alex answered, looking more closely at the picture. “Typically when we find clues or hints of clues, mysteries, or even ancient writings, we almost always have to decipher their meanings and more often than not the answers are right in front of us.” He paused a moment and focused on Ed’s work, “Okay, I am following your rationale. So what was your next clue to focus on this mountain range?”
Ed tapped the screen’s lower section, “Now look at that.”
Alex leaned in to read it, “The town Gap Mills?”
Using a pencil as a pointer, Ed said, “If you look here, the hills are unusually divided—hence the name of the town, Gap Mills.” He then traced the pencil around the south side of the divided hills and continued, “Now look at this.”
Alex and Natalie both leaned in to see. Alex looked back up and said, “Hand me the writing on the bone stuff again.”
Ed handed it to him.
Alex read it, “A page between the Presbyterians and Methodists.” He glanced up at Ed and handed the page over to Natalie, and uttered, “Remarkable.”
She grabbed the page, looked it over, and responded with an excited “What?”
“How in the world did you find this,” Alex asked.
Ed laughed, “I more or less stumbled on it.”
“Yes, you said that,” Alex said. “But seriously, old boy, how did you find this?”
Ed reached back over and gently touched the page with the point of the pencil. “After I found a list of hills that more or less fit the description of being divided, I then cross-referenced each one with Presbyterian and Methodist churches. Lo and behold, I found a perfect match.”
“Ha,” Alex said with his eyes fixed on the page, “so you did stumble on it.”
He continued glancing down at the page and said, “A Presbyterian and a Methodist church right next to each other with a small cemetery between them that appears to be a page from a book.”
Natalie looked closely at the satellite image. “I’m sorry, I still don’t see what you two are talking about.”
“I can’t say for sure,” Ed said, “if it’s what we are searching for but it certainly looks like it.”
Alex moved over and said to Natalie, “Let me take a stab at it. If you look here,” he said, running his finger along the screen, “there is an obvious row of two adjacent hills that run parallel to each other for many, many kilometers and stop right here.” He then ran his finger across the hills, “You see this road?”
“Yes.”
Alex then traced his finger, following the road around the gap in the hills, stopped over an image and asked, “Do you see this?”
“Yes, I guess,” she said, and then asked, “but what is it?”
Alex pulled the page over with Ed’s notes and read one of the phrases, “A page between the Presbyterians and Methodists.” He then explained, “I’m not sure if you are accustomed to viewing satellite images, but if you look closely you can see both of these small colonial-style structures.”
“Those are the two churches?” she asked.
“Yes, they are. Now if you look directly between them,” he touched the page, “this is a graveyard.”
“Oh crap,” she said excitedly. “I see it. The small graveyard is laid out just like an open book. It’s so obvious, with the small road bisecting it and the tombstones lined up like words. I feel embarrassed that I didn’t see it.”
Ed chimed in, “Do not feel embarrassed, I doubt the old Masons expected their clues to be solved from outer space.”
Alex leaned back, “Don’t get too excited yet. We still need to get someone over there to verify Ed’s theory. If not, then we can embarrass him.”
Ed glanced at Alex, smiled and nodded, “Which happens often.” He then quickly changed the subject, “The next message reading, ‘the tavnit is,’ is also puzzling, but seems to fit.”
“Tavnit?” Natalie inquired.
“Which I might speculate,” Ed continued his thought process, “possibly brings up what the Masons were attempting to hide.”
Natalie immediately perked up, “ What is it? ”
“Tavnit is a peculiar Hebrew word,” Alex explained, “commonly translated as a pattern in the Bible.”
Ed began entering something on the computer. “I first had to ask myself what tavnit could possibly mean here?” He paused a moment, contemplating, “I mean, why use the word tavnit?”
“Could be the pattern of the graveyard,” Alex said.
“No,” Ed said, “I think it’s something else.”
He looked up the word in their database and sat back, “I am going to conclude that the word tavnit is intended to mean pattern or plans of some sort.”
“You mentioned it’s a Biblical term,” Natalie asked.
Ed opened the bible, flipped to I Chronicles Chapter 28:19. “It says here that David gave his son Solomon the pattern, or tavnit of the temple with all its parts and chambers.”
“If I’m not mistaken,” Alex said, “the term could also mean image or form.”
“Impossible to say,” Ed replied. “If what those Masons were guarding is hidden somewhere in the vicinity of that cemetery, then the Brotherhood is or will be searching for it.”
“That may explain the second attack under D.C.,” Alex said. “They believe something is still down there.”
“What if they find out that what they are seeking is at the morgue?” Ed added.
Alex glanced at his watch. “We left the morgue and Dr. Hamilton two hours ago.” A concerned look came across his face, “And I don’t recall seeing any security there.”
That reality hit Ed like a brick. He hammered his fist against the metal ceiling and yelled out, “Driver!”
Ed’s yelling caught the driver off-guard and the armored vehicle swerved to a halt. He turned his head and answered, “Yes?”
Ed quickly changed seats to see him, “Get us back to the morgue as fast as you can. Call ahead and get armed men there now.”
“Yes sir,” he said as he took a sharp turn. “Hang on.”