Pagan's Spy by Matt Eaton

Author:Matt Eaton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: aliens, top secret, spy thriller, majestic-12 ufos
Publisher: Matt Eaton
Published: 2021-07-13T16:00:00+00:00

THIRTY TWO

Sunday August 23, 1953

Sherman Adams woke early to a shock. Standing at the foot of his bed was the tallest man he had ever seen. For quite some time Adams was convinced he must be dreaming.

“Good morning Mr Adams. My name is Paolo Favaloro.”

Adams had no idea what this giant intruder could want and figured it could be nothing good. But being a man who hung his hat on his powers of persuasion, he decided diplomacy might be the thing that saved him. “Good morning, Mr Favaloro. Would you mind telling me what you’re doing in my bedroom?”

“First of all, and most importantly,” said Favaloro, “you should know I am not really here.”

This gave Adams pause. “You’re not?”

“No.” Favaloro took a step closer.

Adams sat bolt upright in bed. “That’s close enough, please.”

But Favaloro didn’t stop. He sat upon the edge of the bed close enough to touch. “Please, reach out your hand,” he demanded, holding out his own. Adams moved slowly toward a handshake, suspecting this was a precursor to violence, but knowing he was trapped. To his shock and astonishment, he found only thin air where Paolo Favaloro’s hand should be. He began to wave his hand about more freely and found it moved through him like... he wasn’t really there. It was at that point Adams realized there was no indent on the bed where Favaloro’s backside touched the sheets.

“What the hell?” he cried out, suddenly scared he was seeing a ghost.

“I wish you no harm, sir,” Favaloro assured him. “In fact, as you might surmise, I am incapable of inflicting physical injury.”

“How...?” Adams began, his question derailing upon the first syllable uttered.

“While there are many secrets in this world to which you and your president are privy,” said Paolo, “there is much you do not know. First of all, I am not dead. I am very much alive.”

Adams wished his wife Rachel was here to see this, instead of back home in New Hampshire. He found himself flummoxed, but sensed she would know what to make of it.

“I come to you,” Favaloro continued, “on behalf of the Verus Foundation’s representative, Edna Drake. She wishes to meet with you in her office, but circumstances currently prevent her from arranging the meeting in person.”

Adams blinked hard. He knew exactly why Drake was indisposed — the latest CIA report was still in his briefcase. She was the last person he wanted inside the West Wing. “Who are you, Mr Favaloro, and what do you have to do with any of this?”

“I am a man of old. In the Bible, my kind were called the Nephilim. We were the sons and daughters of Anu, the children of the Ryl who lay with human women to produce hybrid offspring. I have been alive on Earth for six thousand years.”

Adams rubbed his hand through his hair, realizing with some degree of annoyance he was not looking his best. Nobody ever saw him this way. “Steady on now, this is all a lot to take in.

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