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During WW2 with the British army engaging the remaining Italian Forces in Abyssinia, a group of disgruntled Italian soldiers

stumble on a hidden and guarded ancient religious relic possessing awesome powers and an almost mythical reputation.

An Italian Officer, realising the true identity of the icon, gains the help of two Vatican Cardinals who in turn broker an agreement with a powerful Nazi SS Officer. A plan is hastily devised to secure its divine influence and attempt an arduous passage in order to spirit it away from the advancing Allies. At the end of the war it's whereabouts are unknown.

In the early part of the 21st century, Daniel Hart, after many years in the forefront of action, is the dedicated Director of a special unit in the newly invigorated United Nations. He finds his lifelong intuitive abilities taking on a new magnitude with the sudden

appearance of an enigmatic stranger, a 'Guide' from 'The Other Dimension'. Together with the UN, they set out to locate the ancient icon in order to safeguard the irrevocable and explosive destiny of The Creator's Conduit, before the Earth's environment is beyond salvation and religious zealots instigate an unstoppable holocaust.

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When the two forms appeared the Sgt. and his men stopped dead with surprise. The only sound came from the Abyssinian prisoner who proceeded to cross himself and quietly mutter a string of Amharic cantations.

After a few seconds a clear positive voice emanated from the direction of the hooded forms. Amazingly this was understood

simultaneously by the Italians and the Abyssinian in their own dialects.

"You are welcome travellers. Please rest awhile in the shade. We will bring you some food and water to refresh and sustain you and enable you to continue your journey." With this, one of the figures indicated an area shaded by rocks and accommodating a simple wooden table and stools on the other side of the little plateau.

Sgt. Petroli had no time to waste on such niceties and promptly aimed his pistol in the direction of what he considered to be a

couple of pseudo religious cranks.

"Enough of that crap. Move out of the way. We'll leave after we've relieved you of the gold, and whatever other wealth you've

accumulated." He laughed out loud as he and the others moved towards the chapel entrance.

Both hooded figures now raised their arms and the same voice rang out but in a much firmer and authoritive manner.

"There is nothing here for you. Our only purpose as guardians is to ensure the sanctity of this place and the well-being of travellers who come this way. Please do as we say and rest before you continue on your journey. Do not attempt to desecrate the inside of this special place."

At this point the Sgt. shouted out, "Get the fuck out of the way or we'll open fire. We're not leaving without the treasure inside."

The two figures now moved slowly towards the Italian soldiers, who for a second or two stood motionless, before the Sgt. pulled the trigger on his gun and sprayed bullets into the two black shrouds. This was immediately followed by two of his men opening fire, and the black robes in front of them quivered and shook with the onslaught of bullets.

When the gunfire stopped there was an unearthly silence but the robed figures were still upright. Then there was a strange noise from all around them. It seemed like a combination of a loud sigh and the sound of a breeze rustling through the leaves of a tree. At the same time the two black hooded robes folded gently down onto the ground.

By now the Abyssinian prisoner was on his knees with his forehead on the ground babbling incoherently and his hands drumming the sides of his head. Sgt. Petroli, who initially, along with his men, had been pretty shaken up by the spectacle in front of them, pulled himself together and muttered derisively.

"More local mumbo jumbo trickery, meant to keep the natives away. Come on you lot let's get inside. Tie this gibbering monkey up first." The almost incoherent prisoner was trussed up with rope to ankles and then to his arms behind his back, and left on the ground a few metres from the chapel.

The Italian soldiers went through the porch and the Sgt. was surprised to find the heavy old wooden door unlocked. When they pushed open the door the group filed into the gloomy interior that was lit only by three candles, one on each of the side walls and one at the back.

What they found inside the small chapel was a simple stone altar standing in the middle of the room. The only other object was a plain cross, similar to the one adorning the roof outside, which stood in the centre of the altar top. Apart from this the interior was completely bare and devoid of any decoration or furniture.

The soldiers scrambled around the room in an effort to find doors, cavities or anything to indicate hidden apertures, but to no avail.

Sgt. Petroli's dreams of riches and a new life back in Calabria were rapidly disappearing and he cried out in anger.

"We've been fucking tricked. There's nothing here." He gave the altar front a vicious kick and at the same time grabbed the cross on the top. The cross was not loose, as he expected, but seemed partly attached to the altar and his lunge caused it to fold flat onto the top slab. This happened to coincide exactly with his kick on the altar front and to his amazement he found himself carried over the top as the front and back seemed to slide into the ground and the top angled down and slowly slipped into the stone floor at the back. All of this caused him to tumble in a cartwheel fashion over the altar and finish in a tangled heap on the other side of the floor.

As his head cleared he got shakily to his feet and turned to face his men. They were all standing there like manikins in a shop

window, totally motionless, their faces showing a mixture of fear and awe. Petroli realised that he too was also standing frozen to the spot with his jaw wide open as they all gazed at the spectacle before them.

In between the two remaining upright sides of the altar stood a chest covered partly in sheets of gleaming metal, and its top or lid appeared to be constructed almost entirely of the same material. But the most staggeringly beautiful sight were the two large winged objects that stood towering at each end of the top, facing each other as if protecting what seemed like a seat in the centre. The whole room seemed to be shimmering in the reflected light from the flickering candles.

The Sgt's senses gradually returned to him and he realised that he was staring at an artefact of incredible value. Even in the

candlelight it glowed with that deep yellow warmth that only pure old gold can.

Petrolis' men, standing in a semi-circle around the altar, had not moved an inch since the apparition-like object had seemingly materialised in the room.

It suddenly came to Sgt. Petroli that if all this artistic gold and ornamentation had been used on the outside of the chest, what

treasures lay within it?

He stepped up to the chest and called his men over to help him. After some hesitation on their part, they gathered round and

examined it with him. There seemed no obvious way of opening the top as it didn't seem like a traditional lid with a line or gap

indicating that the lid did indeed open. There were no top handles or latches and no key-opening either.

The instinctive reaction of the capacious Calabrian NCO was to grasp the two towering gold winged objects to see if they could be easily removed to save damaging them before somehow forcing the chest open.

Try as he could they would not budge, although he thought he discerned some slight movement. Suddenly he seemed to be

overcome with a mixture of intuition and anger as with a cry of frustration he stretched out and grasping the wings of the two figures leaned down to-wards the centre of the chest top. As he did so both figures slowly turned and a loud crack was heard in the confines of the room as the Sgt. felt the lid move.

Outside in the bright sunshine the tethered guerrilla heard the Sgt.'s bellow of annoyance and he peered fearfully towards the gloomy covered porch of the chapel. He then witnessed something that was to stay with him until his dying day. From within the chapel there came a sound like rushing wind and then the entrance porch was wreathed in tentacle-like smoke or vapour. At the same time the air was filled with the most demonic-like screams emanating from within the chapel. Finally there was a burst of

incredibly intense bright blue/ white light that left the Abyssinian prisoner blinded. His last recollection, as he collapsed unconscious on the dusty rock, were noises similar to a person sucking in a deep breath of air and then a loud slamming sound which reverberated across the ground.

A lone hawk circled down from the clear blue sky and gently alighted upon the cross above the chapel porch. It settled itself and balefully peered down on the small plateau, watching the plump little mouse that scuttled across the rocky ground, but didn't move from its position. The eyes of the bird of prey took in everything from its vantage point as it waited patiently in the silent heat.