Page 14 of The Dauntless (Spy Girl 5)
“I was wondering the same thing.”
“The only clue as to why it is where it is has to do with it being placed near the thirty-third parallel, which is a meridian that orbits the Earth at exactly thirty-three degrees from where the sun dissects Earth—the equator. On the thirty-third parallel, it is believed, the bloodline of the world exists.”
“The bloodline?” she scoffs.
“Yes. This bloodline is thought to bring enlightenment and magic that aren’t known to many on this earth, but the energy is believed to manifest powers and abilities in those who seek it. The ancient Phoenicians were the first to discover this strong life current. Other advanced cultures—such as the ancient Egyptians, the ancient Orient, and the Pueblo Indians—have all built their centers on the thirty-third parallel. And there are numerous other important places throughout history situated on this line. That also brings us back to the Masons, who have thirty-three degrees to enlightenment, much like the pyramid on the back of the United States dollar bill.”
“Where does The Society fit in?” Amanda asks astutely, tying it back to my mission.
“They are an elitist group, I guess.” Who also placed the first TerraSphere on the thirty-third parallel, if Battleground Ares is to be believed.
“So there’s something going on within The Society, but since Daniel and your brother say they’ve seen no indication of anything nefarious going on in the group, maybe it’s like a faction. A group within it who—”
“The upper echelon,” I blurt out as I continue circling the Guidestones.
“What’s that?”
“I didn’t really put it together until just now, but it makes sense. The rings. The group. Medici.”
“Medici?” Amanda says. “Now, you’ve lost me.”
“Lorenzo the Magnificent, who became the first King of Montrovia, was a Medici. He was given the land by his father. He lived during the Renaissance and was obsessed with the idea of working toward a Utopian society. But he was also practical. He knew war was an issue, and he created a secret society—The Society. The start of the group that your son is in today.
“When we were in Florence, there was this secret room. A circular table. Only ten chairs. It was said to be where he gathered the upper echelon who would basically run the world. He wanted Montrovia to start a new world order. One world where peace, art, and living with nature thrived.”
“That sounds a lot like what’s on these stones,” Amanda says. “Did this new world have a name?”
I stop in my tracks. “Arcadia.”
“Which you said was the name on the currency found with Ophelia and Alessandro on it.”
“Exactly,” I reply.
I have to say, I’m really impressed with the First Lady’s ability to so clearly remember all the facts that I spewed out to her during my breakdown a few days ago. So far, she’s kept her promise of not telling anyone.
“Arcadia starts in Montrovia,” she mutters, sitting down on the ground and staring up at the imposing structure.
“Yes, but how?” I ask, sitting down next to her.
“The Renaissance was a time of free thinking. The guides speak of leaving room for nature. Nature could be considered Mother Earth or Gaia. Some believe—”
“Wait,” I say, holding up my hand. Something is on the edge of my brain. “When we were at Peter Prescott’s home in London, he showed me his father’s vault.”
“Vault? As in bank vault?”
“As in gold—among other things. He told me that The Society recommends each member has a vault in their homes. When I asked why, he said, ‘Smart men have always been prepared for the end of the world as we know it.’”
“That’s what your mom told her handler the night before she was killed, right? What else did he say?”
“That his father—and, apparently, The Society—believes in doomsday planning. He mentioned that, for a time in the United States, it was illegal for citizens to own gold. During the Great Depression, people had to hand over their gold to the government. He believed it could happen again because some of the most powerful countries in the world right now are also the ones with the most debt. He also said that, since Ares Von Allister was in The Society, we probably also have gold. But there was more—like barrels of water, caches of food, medical supplies, and vault drawers full of seeds. That ties into the photo my mother left of the doomsday vault that was built on a Norwegian archipelago in the Arctic Ocean. It was financed by the rich and powerful and endorsed by the United Nations as a frozen Garden of Eden. Peter also said, if we don’t make some changes in our population, that we’re going to cause our own extinction event.”
“In the 1970s, Henry Kissinger declared, ‘If you control the oil, you control the country; if you control the food, you control the population.’ I mean, think about it. If you control the water, you control the world. Really, you control life itself.”
“And someone is tired of waiting. They want it now.”
“So you think that there’s a small but powerful group who has a plan to fulfill the prophecy of the Guidestones and reduce the world’s population by over ninety percent?”
“Yes. My mom was killed six years ago. But I think they’ve been working on it for longer than that,” I say, quickly telling her about the video clip in the game.
“Every time I hear someone talk about your father, particularly in the government, they mention he was a pacifist. It doesn’t make sense.”
“It might if he wanted to create his new world by using seeds—or food—to kill everyone instead of guns.”
MISSION:DAY SIX
We arrived back in Omaha last night around the time that both the president and his parents did. We had a spirited dinner together, and they made me feel like part of the family, which is a moment I will always cherish. That feeling of belonging.
Daniel and I had an instant spark when we met, and my feelings for him have deepened this week. Peeking under his cocky exterior and seeing him so vulnerable and hurt has touched me. Bonded us. We’ve been there for each other.
“Chin up,” I tell him this morning. “You’ll do awesome today. And watching you swim the butterfly is ultra sexy.”
“Oh, you think?” he says with a little grin.
“All those muscles. Girls will be screaming.”
“Will you be screaming, Huntley?” he asks, moving closer to me.
“Of course. I’ve also worn your lucky shirt every day. My time as a fashion icon is officially over.”
He pulls me into a tight hug. “I don’t know what I would have done without you this week. And I have a confession. I had a dream about her last night. Woke up, wanting to text her. Couldn’t allow myself to do it, so I snuck out and played Battleground—as you.”
“That’s okay, Daniel. I don’t mind.”
“Don’t you want to know what happened? What I did and saw?”
“Did you not record it?” I tease.
“No, I was too depressed. Okay, so after the dream, I went through my phone, looking at photos we had taken together. That made it even worse.”
“You should have woken me up. I could have distracted you.”
“Distracted me in bed?” When I let out a sad sigh, he says, “I think we should date. Actually, I think we should do more than date.”
“I’m not ready for that, Daniel.”
“I’m not talking about a real relationship. I’m talking about getting engaged.”
“What? Why would we do that?”
He points out of the skybox window. “Because there are lots of cameras here.”
I bite my lip, understanding. “You want to make Lizzie crazy jealous.”
“Lorenzo, too. They need to know what it feels like when the person you love gets engaged to someone else. Maybe one of them will call the whole thing off.”
“Or it could piss them off and solidify their decision.”
“Either way,” Daniel says.
“And the video game made you
want to propose?”
“Yes. I found a whole bunch of gold—we’re talking national treasure proportions—and then was promptly shot. Sorry, I mean, you were shot. Dead. When I started a new game, all the loot you had collected, including the ring, was gone.”
“And you want to apologize by proposing?” I tease.
“No, it was more like a life lesson. There I was with a mountain of gold. I had everything. Then, boom, someone shot me. Lizzie was my mountain of gold. I need to teach her the same lesson.”
My hand moves to the charm at my neck, sliding it across the chain. “Maybe you should just call her.”
“All I’m saying is, if I propose, you’d better start crying and say yes. At least for the cameras.”
“You want it to be a very public proposal.”
“Absolutely.”
“Let me think about it. On another subject, have you noticed anything different today? Felt different?”
“I’m not following.”
“You might not be, but I think someone is following me. Has been for a few days. Like someone is just behind me, but every time I turn around, they are gone.”
He points out at the stadium filled with people. “There are a lot of people here. Not to mention, all the extra Secret Service.” He lowers his voice. “When my dad’s in town, they have snipers on the roof, spy plane and fighter jet flyovers, and lots of extra plain-clothes protection. You’re probably just feeling that.”
“Yeah, probably,” I say as he heads down to the locker room to get ready for his upcoming heat.
But as I look out into the crowd, I know that I have to trust my gut. I see lots of people. I can point out every Secret Service agent, even those in plain clothes. It’s the person who I can’t spot that has me worried. Because I know he’s there. And he’s watching me.
Daniel wins his hundred meter butterfly heat race and makes it to the semifinals. I’m going back to the box when I get a phone call.
