Armageddon and the 4th Timeline: A Spiritual Odyssey through Time and Eternity

Armageddon and the 4th Timeline: A Spiritual Odyssey through Time and Eternity

by Don Mardak

ISBN: 9780964422810

Publisher Grand Circle Publications

Published in Literature & Fiction/Metaphysical, Religion & Spirituality/Fiction, Mystery & Thrillers/Mystery, Science Fiction & Fantasy/Fantasy, Literature & Fiction/Contemporary, Mystery & Thrillers, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Literature & Fiction

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Book Description


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In a world faced with violence and the potential of cataclysmic annihilation, what if the only means to save mankind existed in an alternate reality?

Armageddon and the 4th Timeline, is a fast-paced mystical fantasy with three thought-provoking themes: the war on terror and the potential of a nuclear holocaust; travel through time to alter future events; and new-age spiritual principles that affect the way mankind coexists. The book is a must-read for Truth seekers and those who have been searching for answers to the most basic questions about life and the nature of ultimate reality.

Sample Chapter

Terrorism, Confusion, and Hope



It had been four months since the last al-Qaeda attack: a dirty bomb detonated near the center of Hamburg, Germany. More than 24,000 innocent people were killed, and nearly 56,000 were injured, many critically. The death toll continues to mount.

On that gloomy Thursday in Langley, an unincorporated community located along the Potomac River a few miles west of Washington, D.C., CIA director Scott Cunningham was addressing his Counterintelligence Center Analysis Group, the Director of National Intelligence (DNI), and a few other members of his agency.

Standing five feet, eleven inches tall, Cunningham had a trim and fit physique to go along with his brown, wavy hair and handsome, movie star looks. The former Navy SEAL, at 48, had also spent twelve years in the field in covert operations, and was considered by colleagues to be a true American hero.

The director opened the meeting by saying, “As all of you know, since the attack in Hamburg, the terrorist chatter has been at a fever pitch. We have intercepted threats against at least a half dozen major western capitals. It appears that something huge is imminent. You are also aware of the three al-Qaeda cells that recently were disrupted in the planning stages: one in Yonkers, New York, one in North Chicago, and one in Ventura, California. Yet the threatening communications continue, and are getting stronger every minute. And even though we don’t have any specific information, I intend to inform the President and the Joint Chiefs of Staff about the severity of the situation. Unless any of you disagree, I will suggest that the Secretary of Homeland Security raise the National Terrorism Advisory System’s threat level from its present status of ‘Elevated,’ to ‘Imminent,’ our most critical condition indicating a strong threat of an attack.”

Assistant CIA director Lori Colbert then spoke up. “Do we really want to go there, Scott? I know the chatter has been high, but we’ve seen that many times before . . . and in this case, we don’t have any specific dates, times, or places. In the past, these noisy periods turned out to be nothing more than idle chitchat. There hasn’t been a major hit on America since 9/11/2001. If we raise the threat level to Imminent, we could cause panic in the streets, not to mention wreaking havoc on our air traffic system. The airport delays and missed connections could be staggering. And what would Wall Street’s response be tomorrow morning? Do the nine people in this room have the right to negatively impact hundreds of billions, if not trillions, of dollars of the nation’s wealth? Our economy is just getting back to normal since the Bush-Obama recession. Only recently has the dollar stabilized against the other major currencies. So why would we want to take such risky action?”

A no-nonsense, divorced mother of two college-age sons, Lori was totally committed and devoted to her job as the CIA’s second-in-command. In fact, some agency employees believed she was the power behind the scenes of the organization, often implementing the minute details of each mission, while Scott Cunningham was the high profile, public face of the agency. The five-foot, seven-inch, slightly overweight assistant director took a deep breath, tugged at her rumpled navy blue blazer for emphasis, and concluded. “Anyway, those are my opinions. I think we should wait for more concrete information.”

“Thank you, Lori,” Cunningham replied. “Does anyone else have some thoughts?”

Retired General Sean Larkin, Director of National Intelligence, commented, “I appreciate your concerns, Lori. But from all that I’ve seen, I believe this is the most menacing threat we have yet encountered. These jihadists are serious; they really want to bring America down. Wouldn’t it be worse to not give our countrymen some warning? And even more important, what if going to our highest threat level actually helps us prevent an attack, or mitigate the damage if there is one? I believe we have to do it.”

Cunningham surveyed the eight, all of them earnest and focused, then asked, “Any other comments?”

Dennis Jacoby, the five-foot, six-inch, intellectual and bookish director of the National Clandestine Service (NCS), responded, “I agree with Scott and Sean. We can’t just sit on this news; it’s much too volatile. We have a responsibility to the American people and to the rest of the world to help them take every precaution. I think you should request the action, Scott.”

Lori Colbert raised her left hand as she slowly looked around the table. Speaking up again, she said somewhat apologetically, “Sorry, guys, I get a little emotional sometimes. Maybe the other considerations are more important than mine. As compilers of intelligence, it is not our job to make the decisions; we just need to share our information with those who actually have the power and the duty to do that—and who may even have to walk the plank if they are wrong. Feel free to do what you have to do, Scott. I withdraw my objection.”

“All right, then it’s settled,” Cunningham replied resolutely. “I will be meeting with the President and VP, the Joint Chiefs, the Director of Homeland Security, and the other important players tomorrow morning. I’ll let you know how they react to the news.”

After those comments, the group adjourned for the day, with each of them returning to his or her regular duties.



Kathy and I arrived in Lhasa Tuesday afternoon on a direct flight from Beijing. Since our ride to Shimahn’s residence would not be available until Friday, we spent much of Wednesday and Thursday sightseeing around the ancient capital city. A good part of our first afternoon was devoted to studying the heritage and history of the Jokhang Temple, one of the city’s most famous landmarks. The temple, which was built early in the seventh century CE during the reign of King Songsten Gampo, is regarded by many Tibetan Buddhists as the most sacred shrine in the country.

Jokhang Temple is situated on Barkhor Square in the old section of Lhasa, with the entire four-story complex covering approximately 25,000 square meters. Having roofs covered with gilded bronze tiles, the temple was originally constructed to house a revered image of Siddhartha Gautama the Buddha. That statue is still enshrined in the temple today and is considered to be the most hallowed object in all of Tibet. The interior of Jokhang Temple is quite dark, but is illuminated by a number of votive candles, and there also is a constant, fragrant aroma of burning incense.

On Thursday, we spent some time touring the majestic Potala Palace, the former residence of the Dalai Lama. Resting atop Marpo Ri—the Red Hill—the structure rises more than 300 meters above the valley floor making it the highest palace in the world. It consists of thirteen stories of buildings containing over 1,000 rooms, 10,000 shrines and about 200,000 statues. This majestic Tibetan landmark is composed of two parts, which are referred to as the Red Palace—located in the center of the complex and devoted exclusively to religious study and Buddhist prayer—and the White Palace, consisting of two wings, which formerly made up the living quarters of the Dalai Lama. Today, the palace is a museum housing a remarkable collection of classic art. Some of the scriptures and paintings date back more than several thousand years.

Kathy, my wife of seven years, loves history and could spend hours delving into ancient documents, monuments and structures. I, on the other hand, am more intrigued by pondering abstract metaphysical principles and practicing other consciousness-expanding exercises.

Though following my beautiful blond wife around is usually a pleasure, palace gazing, temple watching and general sightseeing were not our real purpose in coming to Tibet. Since the takeover of the country by the People’s Republic of China, the ancient city, along with the rest of the nation, had lost much of its luster as a center of enlightenment. The Dalai Lama was living in exile in Dharamsala, India, in the foothills of the Himalayas. Numerous Tibetan monasteries and ashrams had been forced to shut down, and the citizens now walked the streets with one eye constantly over their shoulders. While they no longer were being outwardly persecuted for their religious practices, memories of the past still haunted the older residents, as they often reacted in fear whenever they were in the presence of their hostile, pagan occupiers.

When I first received the unexpected, urgent request from Shimahn, I thought I was dreaming. I hadn’t seen nor heard from him since my parents and I had traveled to the Holy Land when I was just twelve years old. At that time, I experienced a profound spiritual initiation in the presence of this illumined Himalayan mystic. I had become separated from my parents during a tour of the Old City section of Jerusalem. After visiting the Church of the Holy Sepulchre on Golgotha, our family was walking down the Via Dolorosa with a large group of other tourists. As we were strolling down the crowded street, I became distracted when I saw a very old man sitting silently in meditation a short distance off the main road.

The sight of the man was so intriguing that I slowly approached him and started a conversation. With his long white beard and drab, ethnic clothing—specifically the long gray robe and worn-out sandals he was wearing—he looked much like the historical patriarchs often portrayed in biblical movies. A bit surprised by my intrusion into his inner peace, the old man gently opened his eyes and greeted me with a warm, endearing smile. He said his name was Nehemiah. He also told me that he was there assisting a man named Shimahn, whom he described as an enlightened Himalayan Master. And that intrigued me even more and set my youthful, inquisitive mind into overdrive.

After a few moments of additional small talk and pleasantries, Nehemiah bid me goodbye, as he claimed he had to meet someone. By that time, I was so captivated and inspired by what I was hearing that I secretly followed him to the building where Shimahn was residing. I then had an opportunity to spend several hours with the two men, discussing spiritual truths and learning mystical principles I had never heard before. Among other things, I learned about what they described as “the nature of ultimate reality,” and I was introduced to a very special book of ancient wisdoms they possessed. But most importantly, they taught me how to meditate and gave me some unique spiritual insights on the true meaning of existence.

That entire episode was an overwhelming spiritual awakening for me. By the time the three of us had finished our animated conversation, my head was spinning. I wondered how I would remember all the profound truths I had heard that afternoon. But Nehemiah told me not to be concerned, as he confidently assured me that I would recall most of the principles. I still remember his final words to me. He said, “Your real teacher is within you and will always be available to instruct you.”

As a result of that incident in Old Jerusalem, my life has since become a series of adventures in mysticism, and I have witnessed many unexplainable miracles in my daily experience.

Kathy and I first met as young teenagers during one of my family’s trips to St. Louis, Missouri. After that first meeting, we lost contact with each other for more than six years, but were fortuitously reunited as undergraduate students at Purdue University in West Lafayette, Indiana. In my collegiate studies, I majored in business administration and marketing, subjects that I never had an opportunity to utilize in my future life’s work.

Because of that unexpected encounter with Shimahn and Nehemiah in the Holy Land, and as a further consequence of my later reunion with Kathy, I was ultimately led to my true spiritual destiny. I have become a practitioner of spiritual healing and have spent several years sharing and teaching the mystical message that has continued to unfold in my consciousness.

Our reunion at college was quite remarkable, as I learned that Kathy, too, was an exceptionally receptive soul and had also had several unique mystical experiences of her own. We were married just six months after Kathy’s graduation from Purdue.

Shimahn’s letter asking us to come to Tibet was rather short, but projected a very mysterious, and ominous tone. Hand-written on an old, wrinkled piece of yellowed paper, the document was quite disconcerting. Because I had not had any contact with this enlightened mystic since the day he and Nehemiah left me in Old Jerusalem, I wondered how he possibly could have known where to find me . . . yet somehow he did.

The first words of the letter were: “Eric, it is important that I meet with you. Please try to come to Tibet as soon as possible. You may also bring your wife along to share in the important decision I will be asking you to make. This is of great significance; the future of mankind could be at stake.” And then he closed with directions on when and where to meet him.

I wondered how he knew that I was married. Kathy also was quite perplexed by the letter and its inexplicable content. She realized how much I had longed to see Shimahn again; for many years, I spoke of nothing else. But since I had left this Himalayan Master in Old Jerusalem all those years ago, I never knew where to find him—until today. So now that we had a location and directions, she readily agreed that we should make the trip.

On Friday, August 14th, Kathy and I were to take the train ride on the Qingzang railway to Nakchu, a fairly large city in northern Tibet located about 100 kilometers from Lhasa. Shimahn told us that two of his students would meet us at the railway station in Nakchu and would drive us to the ashram where he was living. We later learned that it is one of the few ashrams still remaining in Tibet but, because it is so small and far out of the way, the country’s Chinese rulers were allowing it to continue operating.



After Indonesia, the Islamic Republic of Pakistan has the second largest Muslim population in the world. The northern and western highlands of Pakistan contain the towering Karakoram and Pamir mountain ranges, which incorporate some of the world’s highest peaks. In 2001, after the September 11th attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, the Taliban and al-Qaeda began leaving their sanctuaries in Afghanistan and entering into the nearby FATA region, the Federally Administered Tribal Areas.

As they gradually infiltrated the region, these two violent terrorist groups virtually achieved the same level of organization and sophistication they had before 9/11. And it was here that the newest plot against the civilized world was being hatched. On that foreboding Thursday in August, the small, ragged band of mujahedin was gathering in the cave for the third time that week. Their patience was wearing thin. Ever since the capture and killing of Osama bin Laden, they had become galvanized and totally committed to this undertaking. But now, they were primed and ready to give the signal to implement “Project World Capitals.” Their guerrilla insurgents were in place in the various locations, prepared to begin the attacks. It was amazing that all of this could have been accomplished without detection. So why was their revered leader holding them back? Most of their lives had been lived primarily for this day and this project. Soon they would bring the Great Satan to its knees.

Their cause is just. Allahu akbar! (God is great!)

Shortly after noon on that hot, dry day in the lower mountain range, Hasan Mohammed Farouk, the second highest-ranking figure in the al-Qaeda network, entered the cave. The somber, heavily bearded terrorist leader was wearing a soiled turban, a lightly woven, dark brown field jacket and loose-fitting khaki fatigues.

Looking around at his group of zealous freedom fighters he said, “The hour is almost at hand. We want to have the most damaging impact possible, so the attacks will begin in Europe on a busy morning next week. Then, while the Americans are still reeling from the bad news of London and Paris, the first blows will be struck in their precious homeland. Before they can react, the horror will be upon them, as their vile pagan monuments come tumbling down.”

Unconsciously tugging on his graying beard, he then said, “The rest of the week should create a great deal of confusion and indecisiveness, and will completely destabilize the world’s financial markets. We believe several western economies will collapse under the weight of this burden. I know that all of you have been waiting a long time for this moment. But soon your waiting will be over. Our glorious leader, along with all the other devoted servants of Islam thank you for your commitment to this very worthy and just cause. We will prevail.”

Then the sinister-looking jihadist bent over to grab his rifle, held it high in the air, and shouted, “Allahu akbar! Death to the infidels!”

The little band of devotees couldn’t hold back its enthusiasm as a great roar went up in the cave, and the dusky sandstone walls of the arid cavern echoed with the cries of twenty-three rabid warriors. Finally, the time had come. Just five or six more days to wait.


Excerpted from "Armageddon and the 4th Timeline: A Spiritual Odyssey through Time and Eternity" by Don Mardak. Copyright © 2011 by Don Mardak. Excerpted by permission. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher. Excerpts are provided solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
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Author Profile

Don Mardak

Don Mardak

Don Mardak has been a student of Christian mysticism and the Infinite Way writings by Joel S. Goldsmith for more than four decades. He also has conducted classes on Living the Mystical Life, and has been a successful entrepreneur for most of his working years. Don credits his success in his business dealings and relationships to his application of the mystical principles outlined in his books. The results have been quite amazing- with the proper person appearing or the right event unfolding with little effort on his part, making each day a divine spiritual unfoldment. Don's greatest desire is that those who are truly receptive to the messages in his books will open themselves up to the inflow of the Spirit. Accordingly, the answers to your deepest questions will come, and you will be led on your own search for Truth, and ultimately your spiritual destiny.

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