Shrouded Destiny

by Richard William Bates

  "Sir, I didn't fire. The goddamn missile went off by itself. I wasn't even standing near the launch mechanism,” he yelled excitedly.

  "What?"

  "That's right, sir. I don't know what happened. It just went off."

  Suddenly, Greenberg saw several streaks, other missiles taking off from their positions down the line. One after another, they were launching.

  "Lieutenant!” He was on the edge of terror stricken panic. “Do you see them? They're going off all down the line. Oh, God, Oh, God!"

  "Corporal, calm down,” the Lieutenant commanded. “Take it easy, son. I'll call you back. In the meantime, keep that goddamn launcher unloaded."

  "Yes, sir,” he barked back automatically. He hung up the comlink and watched in horror as one rocket after another flew toward their unwary destinations across the border in Syria.

  * * * *

  THE ANTI-CHRIST SMILED with satisfaction as he watched the missiles gain altitude, from deep within his own meditation. His focus jumped to the Syrian side of the border. Any minute now, their radar would report the trajectories of the incoming rockets. There was no reason to wait for that. One by one, rockets launched from the Syrian positions, heading on their destructive course through the sky toward Israeli military positions.

  Ten minutes later, missiles were exploding throughout the Middle East. It had begun.

  The anti-Christ emerged from his deep meditation and opened his eyes. He threw his head back and laughed loudly in triumph.

  * * * *

  SUSAN STARTED FROM her mediation with a gasp.

  "Father Angelino!” she called out.

  Angelino quickly appeared at her side.

  "Yes, Susan? What's the matter?"

  "Something terrible has happened. I don't know what it is, but I'm certain of it. I felt it."

  Angelino sighed. “Yes, my dear. I felt it, too. The war in the Middle East has begun."

  He stood up and said, “The Knights and I must leave immediately.” He walked quickly out of the temple.

  Susan stood up quickly and followed.

  "Father Angelino."

  He stopped and turned around.

  "Please be careful.” Her eyes pleaded with him. “I don't want to lose you."

  Angelino moved toward her and placed his arms around her, embracing her tenderly. “There is no death, Susan."

  She pulled back a bit to look him in the eye. His eyes were alive with vitality and power. Susan was simultaneously reassured and troubled by what she saw in them. Her heart was racing and she was short of breath.

  Angelino took her hands and said gently to her, “Remember what Raji and I have taught you. Fear and hatred are the tools of the anti-Christ. Cultivate love, especially when love seems like the least appropriate response. You have learned power, now you must envelop that power in a blanket of love."

  He gently touched her cheek and just as suddenly her heartbeat and breathing returned to normal. She smiled up at him, then kissed him softly on his cheek.

  "May God be with you,” she said.

  "And with you,” he responded. He let go of her hands, turned, and began to walk rapidly toward Raji's home.

  "Billy, Raul,” he called out. “Gather up the others. It is time for us to leave.” The Knights scurried obediently to join him. Nicole emerged from the house, appearing a bit hesitant.

  "Nicole, you will join us this time,” Angelino said firmly. She nodded in agreement.

  Within moments the ten of them were assembled in the courtyard. Moments later, they were standing outside a small Zulu village in the African province of Natal, on the shores of the Indian Ocean.

  "It's hot here, of course,” Cassidy smiled wryly. “I should have known."

  Billy laughed.

  The village was called Bombatha, named after the last tribal chief to have waged war against the British conquerors, and the materialization of the ten Knights did not go unnoticed by the villagers. In a matter of moments, news of the mysterious arrival of the strangers had circulated through the village. Soon, as had been the case wherever the Knights made their appearance, a crowd had quickly gathered around them.

  A tall man emerged from the throng, dressed in what appeared to be ceremonial chieftan garb. Nicole was impressed with his raw male ruggedness. He advanced toward them, his face frozen in a stern stoic expression. He finally stopped a few paces in front of Angelino.

  "I am Setha, chief of this village,” he said proudly to Angelino.

  Angelino nodded a greeting. “I am honored to meet you. Do you know who I am?"

  "Yes, I know,” Setha said, without any change in expression. “We have been expecting you."

  Cassidy whispered to Billy, “Friendly sort, isn't he?"

  Setha studied Angelino intently. Then his eyes swept across the others, coming to rest on tiny Nicole. Nicole did not flinch, but met his gaze with equal intensity. The chief broke into a wide grin and said, “This little one is powerful.” He gestured broadly to them.

  "Please, join us. Malla is readying herself for her journey with you.” He turned and headed back to the village. Angelino and the others followed.

  "I'm glad to hear she is ready, our time grows short."

  * * * *

  SUSAN FELT ALONE and empty with the disappearance of the ten Knights, on what was presumably their last journey, to gather the remaining two. She had grown very close to Nicole and knew she would miss her very much. At the same time, she assumed they would not be gone long.

  Even as that thought passed through her mind, a chill ran up her spine. What if I never see them again? The anti-Christ was capable of anything and was certainly not above acting upon it.

  Susan shook off the chill. Clearly it was nervous tension. This was a critical time for everyone and it was natural to be jittery. Suddenly, a hand touched her on the shoulder from behind. She jumped and turned around to see MacArthur.

  "Don't worry, Ms. Morgan,” MacArthur said kindly. “He'll be back. Anthony didn't live this long by being careless. Reckless, maybe, but not careless."

  Susan attempted to smile at the Pope's effort at humor.

  "I'm sure you're right, Your Holiness. But I just can't seem to shake this horrible feeling of dread that keeps coming over me lately."

  "Please, call me ‘Gregory,’ Ms. Morgan. There will be no more Popes."

  As he said that, he was hit by the enormity of that realization. Whatever might happen now, the papacy had been rendered irrelevant, its sole purpose having been to serve as the religious arm of the Council. He could never have imagined he and his good friend Ronald Johnson would be last in the line that extended back nearly two thousand years.

  "Thank you, Gregory,” Susan said gratefully. “You are a kind man."

  "Oh, I don't know about that,” MacArthur said with resignation. “I know my shortcomings, and unfortunately unkindness has too often been among them. I'm afraid I have been an old fool who now must face the realization he wasted his life for a counterfeit cause."

  Susan saw the deep sadness in his eyes. She took his hands in hers and said, “Gregory, don't say that. The whole world has been fooled. That is how evil often works ... it hides within our most cherished dreams. The world the anti-Christ has entered could not have been so ripe for him if all of us had not played a role in making it so prosperous for evil to dwell in. We are all responsible for what we have sowed because we all had a part in planting the seeds which are being reaped."

  "I'm afraid that doesn't give me much comfort, Ms. Morgan."

  "Please call me ‘Susan.’”. He smiled weakly and nodded. “We're all in this together, Gregory."

  MacArthur nodded in agreement.

  "How did we come to this?” he said, hanging his head. “What have we done to ourselves?"

  Chapter 29

  "RABBI GOLDSTEIN! RABBI Goldstein!” Paul Myers, a young member of the synagogue, frantically ran up to the Goldstein's door. Gertrude greeted him, still wearing her apron and wiping dishwa
ter from her hands.

  "What's the matter, Paul? Rabbi Goldstein isn't here. The Prime Minister called him away about an hour ago."

  "Mrs. Goldstein. The war has started!” he said, his eyes filled with fear and confusion. “What are we going to do? Missiles have been fired across the Syrian border."

  So, that was why her husband had been called away so urgently, she thought. Thank God Jacob and the Omanis had left for America that morning. Her son was safely halfway there by now. She quickly said a silent prayer of thanks to God and then sought to comfort the frightened young man.

  "Come inside, Paul. Let me make you some tea."

  Ten minutes later, Gertrude placed a cup of hot Earl Grey tea in front of a trembling Paul Myers. He was just barely out of his teens. They both knew what he was thinking. He was going to be going to war and he might never see his family or his fiancée, Rebecca, again. She put her hand on his shoulder to comfort him, doing her best not to reveal her own fear.

  "Do your folks know where you are?” she asked.

  He nodded his head, taking a sip of the hot tea, barely noticing its rich flavor. “Yes, Ma'am. They sent me here to see if there was anything you and the Rabbi needed."

  "The Rabbi should be home soon, Paul. Finish your tea and go home. You should be with your mother. She needs you at a time like this."

  Paul took another swallow of tea and then noticed young Jacob was nowhere to be seen.

  "Where is Jacob?"

  "He is safe. He left for America with his friend, Rashi Omani, and his family early this morning."

  Paul stiffened at the name of the Arab family. He stopped trembling and his face hardened into a mask of hatred.

  Gertrude noticed the dark expression that covered the young man's face. Her heart grew sad. Another young generation lost to the ancient hatreds that forever clouded their land.

  "Yes, Paul. I know how you feel about the Omanis. Your hatred will not bring your father back. He died fighting for his country. You will not honor his memory by hating. He would not want that if he were still here."

  Only Paul's deep respect for the Rabbi and his wife kept him from unleashing the barrage of venom that churned in his stomach. It was easy for the Goldsteins to feel that way, he thought angrily. It was not their father who had died by a bullet to his head in a Syrian prison camp.

  Paul stood up and said as politely as he could muster, “Thank you for the tea, Mrs. Goldstein. I must be going now.” He turned and quickly left the house.

  Gertrude's gaze followed him down the street. She knew many young men like Paul Myers were not going to be alive much longer. That was the way of war.

  * * * *

  "THANK YOU FOR coming, Rabbi Goldstein,” Prime Minister Sahrat said. “I'm afraid the news is not good."

  "What's happening, Ishmael?” Goldstein asked his old friend and college roommate.

  "Sam, the shooting has started. We are now at war."

  Goldstein saw the despair in the eyes of his friend. Sahrat looked old and tired. The burden of command had taken a heavy toll on him.

  Samuel led the Prime Minister over to an isolated corner so he could talk to him without being overheard.

  "Sam, all reports indicate we fired first. I want you to know I issued no such order,” he looked anxiously into the eyes of his friend instead for a sign he believed him.

  "If you say it, then I know it to be true, Ishmael.” Goldstein smiled sympathetically. “Do you know how it happened?'

  "We're not sure. At first we thought it might have been a jumpy new recruit, or a defective firing mechanism on one of our missile launchers. But that doesn't explain what happened after the first missile went off."

  "What happened?"

  "All the launchers along a two mile line went off simultaneously. All of them. Each commander swore no one touched the firing mechanisms. One misfire, I can understand. But all of them?"

  Rabbi Goldstein looked at his old friend sympathetically.

  "You are not surprised. Why not?"

  "Come and sit, my old friend,” Goldstein said. “I have some things to tell you about ... things I have had to keep from you all of our lives. It is time for you to know."

  * * * *

  THE ZULU NATION is highly matriarchal. The men of the tribe tend to the traditional male tasks of hunting and tending to the cattle, while the women take care of most of the crops. In each family, the woman usually controls the money. This extends to the village economy in general. The religious leader, the Diviner, is usually a strong woman.

  One such woman was Malla Kumbata. The Zulu religion is based on ancestor worship, and the Diviner is the one who is granted the power to communicate with the ancestors through a divination ceremony.

  Setha led them to centrally located hut. Standing outside was the tall and haughty Malla Kumbata, attended by a small army of attendants. Her entire demeanor transformed when she caught sight of Angelino.

  "Angelino!” she called out, her face suddenly altered to one of hypnotic ebony beauty by a wide, happy smile.

  Angelino beamed back at her. “The beautiful Malla.” He walked up and embraced her. The villagers murmured among themselves, startled by this open affection. It was not Malla's nature to be so demonstrative. Even Setha seemed surprised. “You have become even more beautiful than the last time I saw you."

  She responded by embracing him yet again.

  Angelino turned to face the other Knights. “May I introduce Malla Kumbata, a force to be reckoned with,” he announced.

  They all gathered around her. As with all the Knights when they were first introduced, an immediate rapport was created among them. Malla, despite the first impression she had given of haughty arrogance, was very warm and gracious.

  They were invited to remain for dinner, but Angelino declined. “We must be on our way. It is almost time."

  * * * *

  "SO, YOU SEE, Ishmael, what has been happening to Israel is being orchestrated by the Jesus clone ... the anti-Christ,” Samuel finished his explanation.

  "What about this Angelino fellow? Does he really think he can stop Jesus?"

  "Angelino will not be a lone agent in this struggle. Although he is the one charged with the Gathering, as a Knight, he personifies only one aspect of the true Christ-mind."

  The Prime Minister mulled that over for a moment and then responded, “I'm disturbed it takes the collective power of twelve men and women to challenge the power of the anti-Christ, Samuel. That seems to concede the superior power of evil."

  "Well, that is one way of looking at it. Let me offer another. The power of the anti-Christ lies in the collective evil of the entire world. The more evil which exists in the world, the greater his power. To be able to counter that with only twelve speaks to the power of the Christ to prevail."

  "But the Christ power has not prevailed. Our people, and the people of Syria, are dying because of that.” Sahrat countered.

  "The power which made the anti-Christ possible has taken many years to concentrate. Do not forget, prophecy says the anti-Christ will have his hour, but the Christ will prevail in the end. All things in their season, my old friend."

  "I am not sure I believe in prophecy anymore, Samuel,” the Prime Minister said sadly. “If the anti-Christ has grown as powerful as you say he has ... if this war is manufactured by him in the manner in which you say ... I do not see a way to overcome such pure evil."

  "Do not give in to despair, Ishmael. Every negative thought of despair, of hatred, of anger, of resentment, of fear, of avarice, or of greed, serves to strengthen the legions of the anti-Christ. He is here now because mankind has made those things powerful by the manifestation of their collective energy. Each thought of hope, of joy, of compassion, of forgiveness, or love ... especially love ... withdraws power from the darkness of evil. Darkness cannot exist where light is. Hate cannot exist where love is."

  "I wish I had your faith, Samuel. It does you credit. If the other Knights are as stalwart as you are,
perhaps there is hope after all.” The Prime Minister allowed himself a weak smile.

  Suddenly, the room was ablaze in a white glow, and before them stood Angelino and the other Knights. At last, the entire twelve were united.

  Saul jumped back in fright.

  "What's going on here, Samuel?” he exclaimed, his eyes wide.

  "Prime Minister Sahrat,” Angelino said with a smile. “Forgive the intrusion, but our time is short. I hope I did not startle you."

  "Oh, not at all,” Prime Minister Sahrat said, grasping his heart. Rabbi Goldstein smiled wryly.

  "I couldn't help but overhear some of your conversation,” Angelino said. “We intend to do all we can to reawaken God's love in the heart of man, and restore His presence to the world once more."

  "You have a big task ahead of you, Angelino,” Sahrat offered. “One wonders if it is even possible, given the extent to which we have descended. I was just sharing that thought with Rabbi Goldstein when you appeared."

  Angelino said, gravely, “Our success is by no means guaranteed. But I will say this—the Law is on our side."

  "Which law is that?"

  "The Law that says we reap as we sow, Mr. Prime Minister. It is as unfailing as any law of physics, and just as demonstrable."

  "I think I see. Evil begets evil, which begets even more evil, until it all collapses in upon itself."

  "Something like that,” Angelino smiled. “But there is a price to be paid. Part of that price, unfortunately, is being borne by your country now. If it is any consolation, you will not be alone. Few corners of the world will be untouched, so pervasive is the decadence upon which the anti-Christ feeds."

  "The dark before the light,” Sahrat said, understanding.

  Angelino nodded. Then he said to Rabbi Goldstein, “I am sorry to have to rush you, but we really must leave. Are your wife and son safe?"

  "Jacob is safe in America, but Gertrude is still here. I have not been able to convince her to leave. Now Jacob is safe, that's all she cares about."

  "Come, we will pay her a visit. We must convince her to leave. Now. Please forgive us, Prime Minister Sahrat, for our hasty departure.” With that, the twelve vanished in a blaze of white light.