The Milestone Protocol, Ernest Dempsey [100 best novels of all time txt] 📗

sitting room. His expensive black leather shoes clicked on the white marble floors. The freshly pressed Italian suit barely fluttered in the breeze as he glided through the lavish halls. He noted the gray veins that streaked each of the marble tiles, the white columns that braced the domed ceiling overhead, each cylinder spaced at equal distance in a circle within the room. White leather couches were positioned against the walls with black and red accent pillows. Gunmetal sconces lined the corridor leading into the gargantuan, circular room. Dim yellow bulbs glowed, giving off enough light to illuminate the spaces but also leaving it dark enough to allow a sense of mystery.

Two guards accompanied Buri, one on either side, as he strode into the center of the room where two white leather chairs sat at an angle, facing to a singular point where a shared cigar ashtray stood atop a gilded plinth.

Buri stopped at the two empty chairs and waited. The two guards waited for instructions. They weren’t his personal security team. Those men had been instructed to wait outside the mansion while the host provided his personal bodyguards to escort the powerful man into the palatial home.

It had been a harrowing experience for Buri just to get there.

He ran a hand over his thinning hair to press down any loose strands that might have rebelled against the rest. He had to look his best, after all. Buri answered to few people in life. World leaders were beneath him. The cowering herds of humanity gathered like sheep in his dominion, none ever truly knowing what was going on, who was pulling the strings.

His appointment, however, was the one person he bowed to, the one who gave him all his authority, power, and financial fortitude. Buri knew that this man, the one who led the shadow caste, could build or destroy empires with a single phone call.

Buri had to look his best for this meeting. The man they called Odin appreciated professionalism. And while Buri assumed he was being called in to meet with Odin for questioning regarding the incident at Hell’s Gate, he was confident he had a good explanation for the man who held sway over his life.

Odin, of course, was the name of the All Father in Norse mythology, the great warrior god who reigned from his throne in the realm of Asgard, weighing the fates and determining the destinies of the people of Earth.

This Odin was no god; at least Buri didn’t believe so. He’d been around the man often enough to know that he was mortal and would—eventually—have to pass the torch on to another. Buri coveted the role, as did the other leaders of the various societies under Odin’s rule. The man was no god, but he held information that made him as much to the rest of humanity as any who’d ever walked the earth. And much like the ancient deity, he too held sway over the lives of human beings and governments.

Buri commanded an incredible amount of power, but even he had to kneel at the feet of Odin, the leader of the shadow caste. Only the leader could decide who would take the reins after Odin’s demise, unless he didn’t designate a successor. In that case, the council would decide, and Buri didn’t want it to fall on their judgment. Deep down, Buri held out hope that his determination and persistence with the Quantium experiment he’d conducted at Hell’s Gate would be applauded, but he knew that was unlikely. He’d failed, and done so without permission, hoping to access a gate that would enable him to travel between dimensions, and perhaps even through time itself.

“Hello, Buri.” The voice spoke from somewhere in the room, but the man didn’t appear.

It wasn’t his first meeting with Odin in this way. Buri had only met the man face to face on two occasions. Those meetings allowed him to put an image to the voice.

Buri bent a knee on the floor before an imaginary throne. “Thank you for allowing me into your sanctuary, Great Leader.” Buri’s words echoed off the hard floor and reverberated up into the domed ceiling where they died.

“Sit,” the voice boomed.

“Yes, Great Leader.”

Buri rose from his position and shifted, moving to the chair on the right, knowing that Odin would always reserve the one on the left.

When Buri was sitting comfortably in the chair, the voice spoke again. “Tell me what happened in Bolivia.”

“Well.…” Buri began, his bony fingers lacing together on his lap. He crossed one leg over his knee in an effort to remain calm, but this man was the one person on the planet who made him nervous. A single wrong word, and the two guards who’d escorted him into the sitting room would kill him in a second. “I discovered the stones that were used by the ancient ones at the Sun Gate in Bolivia. I also found enough Quantium to power the gate and open the portal. It should have worked. I’m still not sure what happened.”

“You attempted to open one of the ancient portals without my permission,” Odin said. His voice remained calm, matter-of-fact, though Buri could feel the disapproval under the man’s tone.

“Yes,” Buri confessed. “I thought it unwise to bother you with such matters.”

“This is not a trivial thing, Buri. You could have undone everything we have worked for throughout the ages.”

“I was careful, sir.”

“Not careful enough.” Odin’s voice boomed throughout the room and echoed down the corridor. “There are a few who know what happened, who were there when you failed. Now those people must be eliminated.”

“You speak of the researchers from the IAA, Master. I assure you, they will be no trouble. I will handle it as soon as I get back to—”

“It’s already handled,” Odin said in a foreboding tone.

Buri looked up from staring at the floor. He didn’t know where to look, though he thought one of the cameras perched along the wall opposite him was probably correct.

“You killed them?”