© Johny Noer -

Chapter 17

At the summit meeting, the EU newly returned president became aware of the opposition to the ‘global constitution." It was spreading throughout the world, and Christian leaders seemed to be behind the revolt. They pasted rebellious letters on their church doors, just like Martin Luther did in 1517.

Mr. Clark was curious as to what they were about. He was told: "They refuse the authority of bishops who accept the global constitution." It’s antichristian", they say, "it denies God as Creator, teaches godless humanism and gives preference to sin."

"What does that mean?"

"You should talk to bishop Valentin about that."

"The homosexual bishop?"

"Yes, Mr. President, the homosexual bishop."

The president grew thoughtful. "I will talk with the bishop", he said.

At the same time EU vice president, John Edwards, was informed of ‘Christian fundamentalists trying to delay the May 25th deadline’…

"They’ve found out that team no.6 is proposing a design copied from a painting of the tower of Babel by the Flemish painter Pieter Brueghels", he was told. "The same design used for the EU parliament in Strasbourg?" asked John Edwards.

"Yes, Mr. Vice President, inspired by the same painting."

"Where did the painter get his idea?"

"From the bible, Mr. vice president. In Genesis it’s written: ‘The whole world was of one language…and the people planned to build a city with a tower reaching to heaven, but God prevented them, and the work was never finished…"

"We’ll finish it!" said John Edwards.


Early that same morning in Jerusalem, Adolf Engels was informed that ‘Christian fundamentalists are supporting the return of the original Ishta Gate to Babylon’. The gate, 12 yards high, was an arch of triumph over the processional boulevard in ancient Babylon’, he was told. "It’s to be reconstructed for September 11th in new Babylon!"

"Why are the fundamentalists so interested in the return of this old gate from a Berlin Museum to Babylon?" he e-mailed to his agent.

"It’s decorated with 337 snake heads", was the answer.

"… and that means?"

"337 is the Hebrew number for hell. They call it ‘The gate to hell’ and want to remove it from Europe. It will insure the doom of Babylon", they say.

"Mischief on September 11th?

"That’s right, chief; mischief!"


At the same morning hour secret service in Brussels had a visit by a young, blonde informer. "That’s about what’s going on in the ‘salon’ on Rue Neuve in Drogenboss. They are preparing for riots on September 27th". According to the words of the apostle in the 2nd letter to the Thessalonians they want to stop ‘antichristian developments’. ‘Let’s hinder the world dictator from appearing before his time…" they say.

The agents listened to the young, blonde man.

"Mr. Dirk van Honthorst", they asked, "you want money?"

Dirk indignantly stood up. "Keep your money", he answered. "I came because of plans that I don’t agree with!"

"What plans?"

"Plans concerning The Temple site in Jerusalem.

"Tell us!"

Dirk hesitated, then lowered his head and bit his lips. His hands

were fists under the table; his breath labored. Someone brought a glass of water. Dirk drank slowly.

"In trouble?" said one of the ladies and took his hands. "You aren’t here for money? Nothing will be repeated. Relax and tell us…"

Stuttering and seemingly out of context Dirk van Honthorst talked about an altar of Pergamon. "Must be taken from Berlin to Jerusalem!" he said. "The bible calls it ‘Satan’s throne’. Found by archeologists! Taken to Germany. The new world government will try to erect it… in the Jerusalem temple!"

"What do your friends plan to do?"

"I don’t know! They speak of the terrible happenings in the temple; destructions

"Aha, where did He get that from?"

Dirk contemplated the questioner.

"From the prophet Daniel", he whispered, "and from their New Testament."

"…that ‘Satan’s throne’ will be moved from Berlin to Jerusalem?"

"Something like that. Horrible things!"

"And your friends’ plans?"

"I don’t know."

"You did right to tell us."

Dirk arose, pale, silently exiting the room. He burst into tears. The sympathetic lady got up to follow him.

The agents looked at each other. "Don’t think he is crazy …" one of them said. "Before World War 2 Adolf Hitler had a huge copy made of this altar, and put it up in Nürnberg. From there he announced the ‘Nürnberger Laws’ that brought about 6 million Jews to the death camps. He himself was worshipped in front of that altar as the coming Messiah."

Another secret agent said: "Find out what they’re planning. They want to destroy three dead lines: May 25th, September 11th and 27th. They must not succeed."


After trying to flee from the Hanging Gardens, Jan spent 24 hours in the Babylonian prison outside the city. In a security cell with eight men. One of them was 16 years in jail for murder. But of the 6000 prisoners, most of them were jailed for political or religious reasons. Many more prisons in lonely regions, in deserts and woods held opposers to the system. Nobody returned from there…

The cells were provided with bunk beds and shelves for personal belongings: Books, towels, food, prayer carpets and clothing. A TV screen was on continuously with special programs. The most read book was the Koran, but lately more people with bibles appeared. Jan was one of these.

"You will be called in a few minutes," a prisoner informed him. "Be ready for the worst! No convention is of account here; they have their own methods…"

"What do you mean?"

"You will see…"

A key turned the lock and the cell door opened. Two ‘gorillas’ in camouflaged colors stood in the doorway. They looked like West African apes: Six feet tall, wide shoulders, short legs and long arms. Their green shirt sleeves were rolled up; hairy arms! Flat noses with large nostrils. Large eyebrows. Shining, vigilant black eyes, gleaming with hatred; one of them called out: ‘Jan Apostolou’.

Jan arose and went to the door. The room followed him with sympathetic glances. They stepped aside. One walked before, the other behind. The silence was paralyzing. Nobody moved. The ‘beep’ of the closing door broke the tension.

The two ‘gorillas’ continued along a scaffolding of steel bars. Their prisoner between them. Behind the barred cells hundreds of eyes followed them. In a few hours the prisoner would be carried back….

Someone called from behind the bars: "On September 27th we will have new laws. Then what you’re doing will be forbidden!"

Scornful laughter. Spoons and tin cups drummed against the prison bars. The ‘apes’ snarled and frowned. One of them struck with a black stick between the bars. Hands grasped it. It disappeared behind the lattice, to the anger and fury of the ‘beasts’, who tried in vein to retrieve it. "Later", they said. They continued down the corridor until they reached a steel door. The first ‘ape’ entered and turned to grab Jan! Jan jumped aside, evading the ‘gorilla’ behind him. Both of them stood stock-still in shock, as their prisoner began to run. A few seconds later they came too and started running after him.

As he reached the prisoners, they held out the black stick to him, he grasped it. The prison filled with excitement. Jan jumped on to a steel railing and shouted: "Listen!" Everybody quieted down. Meanwhile the ‘apes’ had reached him, but he successfully kept them at bay. Sirens blared and lights blinked. Jan shouted: "You know what they will do to me, it happens everyday here! Help will come before September 27th!"

Jan was torn from the railing and disappeared into a crowd of camouflaged men. Long, hairy arms with black clubs descended on him. Furious roars! At last it ended. Jan was carried through the bitter silence of the corridor. The unconscious Greek was taken for ‘further treatment’…


President Pierre Henri Clark was driven to his suite in the Babylonian Center. Here he was greeted by nine chiefs of government. The awesome story of his miraculous rescue in Saudi Arabia, the hostaging and the dramatic flight by a parachute jump were the headlines of the day. Nebuchadnezzar’s throne room was the setting for the celebrations. But first he was taken to his suite in the palace.

On entering the elegant salon, he noticed the unusually magnificent flower bouquet, prepared by Ursula. He gazed long at the bouquet, then took three glasses, poured wine from a silver carafe and, without turning or looking around, said: "Welcome, Mr. Robinson and Miss Clemens. Pleased to have you as my guests. Would you join me in a welcoming drink? Also, we have some business to talk over…"

The young pair appeared from a corner of the room, visibly surprised. Mr. Clark turned, smiling, and offered the glasses.

"I have awaited this moment since my arrival…!"

"But, Mr. President…" Ursula wanted to interrupt, looking for an explanation.

"Please, Miss Clement, relax," Mr. Clark spoke in a fatherly tone. "We don’t understand all now; in time you will."

"What happened, Mr. President, you are not the same?" The former bodyguard gazed with wonder at his chief.

"No, Jack!" Mr. Clark put down his glass. "I am not the same. Something happened to me in the desert." He motioned for them to sit down. "They are waiting for me in Nebuchadnezzar’s throne room…friends and foes…nine government chiefs …and the cameras! Do you know the story of Nebuchadnezzar?"

Jack and Ursula’s eyes were full of questions…

He continued: "Nebuchadnezzar became proud. One night he took a walk on the roof of his building and said: "I did all this! It is my work!" Mr. Clark looked meaningful at them. "In that moment a voice came from heaven to say that the king would be driven from his throne to live with the wild beasts of the desert…"

Mr. Clark smiled to himself. "That happened to me! I landed among hyenas, jackals and bandits, but (like the Babylonian king) that’s what brought me to my senses! There in the wilderness…" Mr. Clark tried to master his emotions," that’s where I met Him!"

In the silence of the room, Jack Robinson looked as if he saw a ghost; Ursula wiped her eyes.

"Enough," Mr. Clark interrupted himself. "Let’s talk business!" I expected to find you here. You have two requests, yes? First, the freedom of Jan Apostolou. Too bad, Jack, you should have taken better care of him! What will Antoinette Dupont say to that?"

Jack still gazed dump founded at his former chief.

"Secondly, you want free entrances to museums in Vienna, Brussels, and the National Gallery in London to…" the president cleared his throat, "steal some paintings!"

Jack stood speechless. He was overwhelmed.

"Here, the necessary documents. That should help solve your problems…."

The president arose.

"They’re waiting for me, I must say goodbye! Besides, Jack, your job with the words on the wall was fantastic!"

Mr. Clark turned again. "Now I’m on your side! he said. "It’s good to have a Nebuchadnezzar in the back."

At the door once again he stopped. More unfinished business? He pulled Jack aside. "I have something important to tell you."

"Mr. President?" Jack used the same address as when he was bodyguard. Now full of respect.

"The name I gave you when you took me hostage…"

"I’m sorry, Mr. President"!"

"Let’s not talk about it! The NAME is more important. Remember! You forced me to write it down. The name of my successor?"

"The devil?"


Jack took a crumpled paper from his pocket. The president reached for it. "Please give it to me. It’s not the right name…"

"Not the right name? Did you lie to me?"

"No, I didn’t; I believed! But now I think differently!"

Jack held on to the paper. "I wanted to get rid of him!"

"The biggest mistake of your life!"

"What changed your mind?"

Mr. Clark did not answer. He pondered a moment, and then quietly said: "Jack! I don’t understand much about spiritual things, but I do know that many people try to guess that name! They try to discover his number, but they fall short! Wisdom is needed to find out who he is. The name of the beast. The number of his name! Neither you nor I have this wisdom. The name shall never be given in that way. No, we are in a process; in time we’ll learn what it’s all about!"

Jack stared at his former chief with amazement. Never had he heard him speak in this manner. He gave him the scrap of paper. The president tore it up and threw it out of the open window. Returning to the door, he said: "Lieutenant Wilhelm brought me here. He has orders to take you all safely to the Arava. A young lady is waiting desperately there. Hurry! The Babylonian prisons never waste time!

After Mr. Clark had left, Jack and Ursula embraced.

"Jan will be free!"

"Yes, Jack, let’s go! We must hurry!"

"They don’t waste time in Babylon!" called Jack….

Beneath the suite in the Babylonian palace, the security chief was waiting. Looking up, he saw scraps of paper floating into the wind.

"Business is done," he called out. "They’ll soon be here, and must be arrested at once. We’ll bring them to their friend, who right now…" he looked at his watch, "is begging for mercy."