Prologue
Midnight
Greywacke Knoll
Central Park
New York City
The lightning bolt struck Peter Hillyer with such ferocity that it knocked him to the ground, causing him to drop The Brimstone.
Cleopatra’s Needle, the ancient Egyptian obelisk, towered above him like an ancient monolith. Besides the burning sensation in the back of his neck where the bolt struck, his body trembled with spasms as the excruciating pain flooded through him.
He reached for the object and clutched it to his
chest. He knew there would be thunder and lightning, but he never expected it to be so intense. There hadn’t been enough time for him to find shelter, but there was nothing nearby even if he could. He was sprawled on a deserted stretch of grass two hundred yards behind The Metropolitan Museum of Art at the stroke of midnight.
With the pain intensifying, he knew he would be dead momentarily. He wondered if he had done the right thing. Eliza had asked him to do some basic fact checking for her and he’d discovered much more than he had ever imagined possible.
He’d been secretive about what he’d been involved in these last few months, more out of ego than anything else. The dark side of having a great reputation was the need to preserve it. He shared what he was doing with only one person under the condition that he tell no one, not even Peter’s son, Dalton.
With great difficulty, he turned over onto his stomach and craned his neck, searching desperately for the person who’d been with him at the obelisk, to give him permission to tell Dalton everything.
He was nowhere in sight.
His final thoughts turned to his son. His greatest regret was that he hadn’t reconnected with him after four years of estrangement. He hoped that Dalton would find a way to learn why, and how, his father had left this world after uncovering what was surely the single most astonishing discovery in modern times.
Barely able to breathe, his eyes glazing over, he knew he had to contact Dalton and give him the name of the person who could explain everything.
He reached for his BlackBerry and with trembling fingers attempted to text a final message to his son. With great difficulty he managed to type in only a few letters of what he needed to say. He wasn’t even sure if he had hit the right keys. He hoped it would be enough to point Dalton in the right direction.
call qi mdfo lxg
He managed to press Send, then exhaled his last breath.
