David Berko [Berko - The Prognostication

Foreword

This is a continuation of the Before the End Series , the follow-up to The Great Deception.

The Prognostication centers around the battle between evil Uncle Ephraim, his nephew Azriel, and his brother Seth Markov. Theres also a plot twist in the Berlin Mission. Suddenly not everyone is playing on the same team.

After a surgery alters his memories Azriel is trained to go on a mission to take out the only threat to Scorpions plans of taking over the world.

Prologue

Today, the sun forgot how to shine. It was a dark day. Very, very dark day.

Having had several millennia to plan this, the forces of evil were finally ready to yoke humanity into their fixed schemes for the end of days.

Sector 3 or Washington D.C. (the districts historical name) grew very rich from private funding. When the revamped city got off the ground, quite literally, it wasnt too hard to see why this location off the Potomac River could serve as the New Babylon.

04/24/2041: 6AM, S3

Esmeralda Westover had just started her day.

The warm sunshine of that particular morning shoved its way into the unprotected living areas that werent outfitted with blackout shades. The natural sunlight was one of the things Esmeralda appreciated most about her residence up in the clouds. Every room except her master suite got an overdose of the friendly UV rays.

She enjoyed it most though when her routine took her out to the floor garden/green area which was simply there for the complexs residents to bask in its radiance. Every ten floors of the massive building she lived in had one of these. It existed at the center of the cylindrical tower in a greenhouse environment.

All in all the place she called home shone with an emerald radiance. The floor to ceiling windows of the tower expressed that color in its tint.

The flaky sleepies still occupied the corners of her eyes. Esmeralda hesitantly draped her legs over the side of her bed, anticipating a jolting drop to the floor: all twenty-eight inches.

When she had finally left the comfort of her master bedroom, the first thing that greeted her were the morning rays. The sun felt better than it should have over her bodya warmth that awakened the senses before the first pot of coffee even finished brewing.

She didnt have anything booked for that day. Yet.

It wouldnt be extremely unusual though to say yes to another shoot on the whimjet to the set. These sort of things were as whimsical as her personality.

Still in her robe, she padded over to a vanity with its coordinating makeup mirror. The mirror doubled as a screen where she viewed her calendar, among other things.

A sudden low rumble startled the woman. Her drowsy figure searched for the source of the noise. Unsuccessful at first, Esmeralda returned back to the mirror. As soon as she sat down on the little stool the disturbance from before reared its ugly head again.

This time her instincts prevailed; they knew right where to take her. The missing phone, the one she had searched high and low for last night? An incoming phone call functioned as the homing beacon to draw her to the devices location.

Esmeralda found herself in a mini trance when she spotted it. The inbound call had nearly made it all the way to voicemail again. That is until she flipped the device up to her ear to answer.

Hello?

Mom? Listen to me, its very important you look out your window!

Confusion came before blind obedience. Wha--?

Just do it, her daughter Amanda said more firmly.

The reluctant mother didnt have to go very far to get to the nearest window. That beautiful sunrise she woke up to? Gone.

At that moment long foreign shadows stodgily moved across the various living spaces in her apartment. Where there had previously been an overabundance of natural sunlight now was blotted out by several immense objects loitering over Sector Three airspace.

Esmeralda clutched her robe in a defensive posture as she cautiously traipsed over to the nearest window to get a better look.

Oh, myGod. escaped her lips

--

Masada: Tel Aviv, Israel

Azriel briefly looked away from Ephraim Markov to notice the strange room he stood in.

Dad, where are we?

Home son. You are home, he repeated a little softer and more distant than the first.

Even though he had heard Ephraim, he continued to walk past the man and out into a more open area, away from the room he spent the last twenty-four hours in. Azriel swiveled his head in a full three-sixty like an owl.

What is this place? he asked again.

Ephraims eyes shifted to Stacy. They were both doing the same thing: smiling at the boys curiosity--amused at his juvenile line of questioning.

Ephraim cleared his throat and calmly approached on Azriels left. He then wrapped an arm around the boys shoulders and gave him a little shake.

Were in Masada, son! The modern day fortress no one knows exists except for the good folks at Israels intelligence agency, Mossad.

Azriels face brimmed with exuberance.

Tell me about it!

Stacy craned an ear towards Azriel and said, What?

Mossad. Tell me more, he clarified.

Stacy passed the buck on to Ephraim to fill in the blanks.

Ephraim Markov nodded at her non-verbal request; not before running his fingers through his silver-streaked hair to fix a side part, though.

Come walk with me son. Ill show you around, he said with a twinkle in his mischievous eyes.

What about mom? Azriel replied, looking up to Stacy who stood a few inches taller than he did.

Stacy smiled softly at her stepson and patted him on the back.

Ephraims eyes moistened a little at the sight. Youll see her soon. Come, come. I think youll wanna see what I have to show you. Lots to go over.

Okay! he replied with youthful exuberance.

The hallway straight ahead bloated into a cavernous open air atrium. Up or down, left to right, one could glimpse a complete cutout of the one hundred plus story supertall.

Ephraim leaned over the railing that looked down into a deep abyssthirty-nine stories to the lobby. He placed more weight of his than he should have in his elbows. If someone happened to bump into the Head of Kidon at that moment hed wind up a bloody mess on the marble far below.

Azriel fearlessly perched at the same waist-high rail as the man he now called father did.

The cerebrum transfiguration had changed so much about the young man. His fears and insecurity? Gone. Replaced by an adaptable personality that used any methods or means possible to overcome obstacles.

Before the transformation Uncle Ephraim was one of those obstacles. Now, the boy knew the man to be his father. He didnt know any different. Though that would only be just scratching the surface of the changes he had borne under the knife.

Manufactured memories of a happy childhood with Stacy as a nurturer and Ephraim as the caring father played in the boys mind.

He looked over at his new dad. When can I start doing what you do around here?

The suddenness combined with the absence of a preamble startled Ephraim.

Boy, where did that come from? He didnt know what else to say.

What do you mean, father?

Nothing, he said quietly while shaking his head ever so slightly.

Theres so much to say. I dont know where to start, Ephraim said after an interlude of silence.

Start where it seems logical to, the thirteen-year-old suggested.

Ephraim smiled at this. Getting offered advice from a youngster seemed so foreign to the old-hand agency man. However, this teenager was his son now.

It would take time to reconcile the new change. These things took far longer than the operation itself. Much longer. No program, equipment, or medical miracles could facilitate familiarity among a newly-formed family. Again, time would be the conduit through which the cerebrum transfiguration patient (Azriel) and his new family would have to travel through in order for them to become a unit.