Hank Hudson

Prologue - A Shadow Looms

Prologue

A Shadow Looms

March 4, 1933, Washington D.C.

The halls of the capital were silent, like a ghost town. All the staffers and security stood outside, enjoying the festivities of the newly inaugurated president. Almost everyone in Washington D.C. that morning had arrived to attend the inauguration—almost everyone.

President Roosevelt was being wheeled down the empty hall from the East Portico of the capital building, where he'd just been sworn in as the 32nd president of the United States.

"I don't understand why she insisted on meeting with me now. Can't this wait?" the president asked, his voice clearly portraying his stress.

"She said it was of the utmost importance, Mr. President," his secret serviceman replied, pushing his wheelchair along the empty hall.

"Well, let's make this quick. I need to get back to the party."

"Yes, Mr. President."

They wound their way down through the halls towards an office. Every third rotation, the right front wheel of President Roosevelt's chair squeaked.

The door to the office was already open, and a woman with golden blonde hair sat on one of the two couches in the room. She gave a polite smile as the president wheeled in.

"Mr. President, let me express my congratulations to you on winning the election," she said.

"Ms. Cabot. May we dispense with the niceties? I find this quite irregular that we are meeting today," the president said.

The chair was wheeled behind the desk, and the secret serviceman stepped back against the wall, his arms crossed.

"Of course, Mr. President."

Roosevelt squinted his eyes at her and pulled a yellow piece of paper from his pocket. "You know, if your father hadn't sent me this telegram, I wouldn't have met with you at all. And what the Dickens is he doing in Costa Rica?"

She gave an understanding smile, like a mother gives when she explains something to a young child. "I certainly hope what he's doing in Costa Rica won't be necessary." She stood and turned from the president, her hand outstretched.

A man dressed in the robes of a Bedouin stepped forward and handed her a sheaf of paper. The secret serviceman reached for his weapon.

"I wouldn't do that," she said, one hand raised. "For your own safety."

President Roosevelt let out a sigh and nodded to his guard to stand down. "And whom do I have the honor of meeting now?" The president tried in vain to sound hospitable.

"My dear associate, Mr. Grey. He's been in my father's employ since his business with the Ottomans."

The president looked thoughtful, seeming to take stock of the man.

"He's a man of action, not much on words," Ms. Cabot said, as she brought the papers to the president and laid them out. They were crinkled and yellowed with time.

"What's all this? Ms. Cabot, I am certainly not doing business today." The president's voice had lost all feigned hospitality. "I should be with my family and supporters, not here looking at—" his eyes widened. "What is this?"

"Mr. President, how long can you expect to hold this

office with the current decline of the nation? Since the Great War, conditions in our beloved country have only gotten worse. Even people of my class are beginning to feel it, and not just economically." Ms. Cabot turned over a piece of paper. "We are talking about the land being destroyed, people splitting from society, the possibility of the total decline of humanity."

Roosevelt looked through the papers in silence. He took his glasses off, wiped them, and replaced them on his face. "This is utter nonsense. A fairytale. Egyptian mythology. If this is some sort of joke your father planned—"

"Mr. President, do I look like a woman who believes in folklore and fairytales? This isn't a joke. I only work in reality and facts, and these are the facts. In 1918, the Germans began using a new weapon to attack the city of Paris. This weapon fired a projectile so large that, when it hit, it shook the entire city. It destroyed much of the St-Gervais-et-St-Protais Church. This is an old church. They started construction in 1494. They built it to keep something safe, hidden away for humanity's own protection. The Apep."

The president looked at Ms. Cabot and picked up the papers again. "And now you're telling me it's here."

"You know it is, Mr. President. Now you have an opportunity. If we could understand it, control it, we would be the most powerful nation the world has ever seen." She reached her hand back and took another set of papers from Mr. Grey. These were typed on crisp, white paper that bore the seal of the oval office. She placed them in front of Roosevelt. "This is what you need to do, Mr. President."

He began reading through the pages, nodding.

A shadow of a grin appeared on Ms. Cabot's face.