King Solomon's Treasure

King Solomon's Treasure



The Mossad agent they called the Controller of The Golem was going to the site of an Israeli archaeological dig.


Normally an archaeological dig wasn't considered a matter of Israeli national security but this was an exception namely because of what was found and where the dig was clandestinely taking place at a very politically and religiously sensitive site.


The discovery itself had been made in a deep subterranean cavern at the site on June 6thof last year at the ungodly hour of 6 AM.


News of the find had still not been made public for obvious reasons.

Aside from those working on the dig (who had been sworn to secrecy), very few in Israel actually knew of the find.

The President of Israel and the Prime Minister of Israel knew of the find.

Most of the Israeli cabinet itself did not.

Most of those in government did not know of the find.

Most of those in the Israeli Army did not know of the find.

Most of those in the Israeli intelligence community did not.

The Controller of The Golem himself did not know of it until New Year's Day this year.

He was assigned to check it out and oversee the final cataloging of the items that were found.



               .              .            .



The subterranean cavern itself was large and spacious.

It would have to be.

Considering what it contained.

"So as you can see," the team's head archaeologist Dr. Samuel Reubenstein told the Controller of the Golem, "modern biblical scholarship which had maintained that the claim 'he was the richest man who had ever lived' was just an exaggeration  and a myth will itself have to be rewritten."



"How much would you say all this stuff is worth?" The Controller of the Golem asked as he looked at the huge quantity of valuables that quite literally went on for miles and miles in the long extensive cavern.

"At today's market value," Dr. Reubenstein replied, "Trillions and trillions and trillions. Would definitely make Bill Gates look like a pauper by comparison at any rate."

The Controller of The Golem shook his head in disbelief at what he was seeing...


... King Solomon's treasures.



                 .           .         .



As Pope Francis prayed in the chapel, he was haunted by a thought which had entered his mind yesterday and seemed to linger there ever since.

Had the Consecration of Russia been properly done like what was requested by the Blessed Virgin Mary at Fatima in 1917?

The world had been consecrated to Mary's Immaculate Heart several times but never Russia specifically by name.

Mary had told Sister Lucy (the only one of the 3 shepherd children at Fatima who had lived on into adulthood) that the Consecration would eventually be done but that it would be late.

What, Francis wondered, did She mean by late?


What would have happened that would cause one to think it had been done late?

How late?

Too late?



             .           .         .


Russian President Vladimir Putin sat in his office in the Kremlin at night.

It was late.


He looked at the old clock ticking on the wall.


Very late.


He looked outside the window of his Kremlin office and took in the night sky over Moscow with its intense darkness.



Too late.


The Russian President rubbed his eyes and looked at the document in front of him.

The document that told the state of the Russian economy as it truly was.

It was even worse than what the government had admitted in public through the media.


Western sanctions.

And the drastic fall in oil prices.

Together the two had dealt a crippling blow to the Russian economy from which the country might not recover for a very very long time.

And what would this do to his place in history?

That he would not be recognized as the truly great leader that Vladimir Putin knew in his heart that he truly was?


Putin took another document from his folder.


This one from a sleeper agent.


Russia had had sleeper agents in various countries throughout the world for a very very long time now.


Since the days of Lenin and Stalin and the old Soviet Union.


This document was from a long-time sleeper agent in the State of Israel.


One who had worked his way up to a position of very great trust and high responsibility within the Israeli state.

With access to all of Israel's deepest and darkest secrets.

The Russian President looked at the photos  in the document.

And seethed with jealousy at the items he saw that had been found in this unpublicized Israeli archaeological dig.


Putin felt extremely covetous at what he saw.


The words of Britain's great World War II statesmen Sir Winston Churchill went through his mind, "Desperate times require desperate measures."



He walked over to another desk while  still holding the document with the photos and remained oblivious to the fact that the beautifully arranged lilies of the field flowers in pots on this desk had died due to the fact he had never bothered to water them.


Lilies of the field of whom a Man a long long time ago had said, "I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these."




              .              .            .


Ripped pages of an old Bible (that had been given intact to a homeless man by a western missionary) blew along the streets of Moscow.


The man had used the pages of the Bible to make himself a fire.


Some of the ripped pages had blown away in a sudden wind and were being carried through the streets of the Russian capital.


A scrap of paper bearing part of a verse from Ezekiel Chapter 38 verse 13 blew against the window of Putin's Kremlin office as he gazed down on the world in eaglesque fashion like a Roman Emperor of old.



The Russian leader was oblivious to the scrap of paper that was held by the wind against the window for a minute.


The words on the scrap of paper that read, "Art thou come to take a spoil? hast thou gathered thy company to take a prey? to carry away silver and gold, to take away cattle and goods, to take a great spoil?".


The Russian leader then clenched his fists as his mind came to a firm and resolute decision on the matter.


The scrap of paper was then blown away by the wind in a southernly direction.


As if it was a tiny foreshadowing of a great tempest to come.



To be continued.



-A vampire novel chapter
 written by Christopher
 Friday February 13th
  2015.


Sent from my iPhone