Shrouded Destiny

by Richard William Bates

  They did not have to be told twice. Fighting panic, the staff scrambled for the stairwells and elevators. Within a matter of minutes, they had vacated the office. Ray walked back over to the window. The mob was getting closer. Cars were exiting the parking garage below them in a steady stream, most of them speeding off once on the street. But before long, the volume of traffic choked off the flow and people abandoned their vehicles and started to run off on foot.

  * * * *

  BENEATH THE STREETS of Paris, a city now in flames and chaos, the Council of Most Highs was safely protected in a deeply buried bunker constructed for just this purpose. Ostensibly, it had been constructed as a bomb shelter during Word War II, but its purpose had always been to serve as a place of safety for the elite Council members during the conflagration that was then occurring.

  The six members focused on and absorbed the hatred and fear spreading like a plague over the globe. Holding hands in a circle, they performed the function of an amplifier, through which all the evil energy could flow, much as a magnifying glass served to amplify and focus sunlight to create a tight beam of intense heat, or as a laser beam concentrated light to create a powerful beam of energy. They directed this energy to the anti-Christ, who sat at the center of the circle. Rays of black energy flowed through them, like spokes on a wheel, each one feeding the energy to Jesus. From the anti-Christ, a beam of intense black light shot out from the top of his head, like a beacon that cut through the bunker like butter, spreading itself out like a malevolent umbrella that spread rapidly over the globe.

  This cloud of evil rapidly moved over the earth, darkening the sky, making the blackness of night even blacker. It permeated each soul, absorbed through the invisible soul matter of each. It intensified. Everywhere, people rioted wildly, destroying everything in their paths like a swarm of army ants devours a rotting animal carcass. Each act of evil fed back upon the Council, which fed it to the anti-Christ, who in turn amplified it and sent it back out into the thought matter which permeated the atmosphere. This self-contained system of regenerating evil grew more powerful and intense with each act of violence, each thought of hatred, each tremor of fear. The world was now, at last, firmly in the grip of the pure evil of the anti-Christ.

  As the black rays shot through Jesus, his body lurched with ecstasy. Moans of intense pleasure came from deep within his soul. His face was etched with an expression of intense sexual release. Gradually, he transformed. His face grew thin, his chin became pointy and his eyes turned slanted and red. His body grew larger, and deeply sculptured muscles started to pop out all over. His shoulder-length hair fell to the ground leaving his head smoothly bald. His ears grew thinner and pointed. His skin darkened to a brownish-red hue. The beard that lined his jaw receded until it was a sharp goatee. With a final lurch, the transformation was completed when his pure white robe became a black cape rimmed with bright gold.

  As a black aura grew around him, the anti-Christ lifted his arms to his side, his voice booming, “I am the Lord of Darkness. Bow before me, my loyal children.” Around the world, loud crashes of thunder sounded. Bolts of lightening struck the earth, blasting buildings not yet devastated by the wanton destruction that had been roaring its way across the planet.

  The members of the Council, hearts pounding with the realization that two thousand years of preparation was at last coming to fruition, fell to their knees in grateful supplication to their Lord.

  * * * *

  THE MOB ADVANCED toward the building relentlessly. Harold and Arnold watched it from their vantage point twenty-two stories up. It would be upon them in a matter of a few minutes.

  "I think we might want to get the hell out of here,” Harold said. “Are there any weapons besides your revolver around here, Ray?"

  Just then, the phone rang again. Ray picked it up. “Yeah, we're about to get out of here ourselves, Pete. Thanks, we may need them. Go on home now. We'll be okay."

  He put the receiver down and said, “That was the security guard for this floor. He is getting out of here. He told me there are a few rifles locked in the storeroom near the guard station. We'd better hurry if we want to make it out of here alive."

  Ray grabbed his pistol, shoved it into a crumpled duffle bag and led the others out the door. They ran quickly down to the guard station, which was located just across from the bank of ten elevators. He spotted the gun cabinet. It was locked. Arnold looked around for something to smash the lock with. The only thing he could see was the guard's chair. Rather than attempt to break the lock, he rammed the chair into the wooden cabinet repeatedly until it finally splintered. There was a shotgun and a rifle propped up inside the cabinet, and several boxes of ammunition for both.

  "Grab as much of that ammo as you can shove in the bag, Ray,” Arnold said, instinctively taking command due to his military experience. Ray grabbed four boxes of shot and three boxes of rifle rounds while Harold picked up the shotgun.

  They could hear sounds of screaming voices echoing through the ventilation shafts overhead, intermingled with the sound of breaking glass and shots being fired. The mob had breached the building.

  "Hurry!” Arnold demanded. Ray zipped up the duffle bag and Arnold grabbed the rifle. They ran quickly to the elevators.

  "Take number ten,” Ray said. “It's an express elevator to the basement. We don't want to pop out into a band of armed maniacs in the lobby."

  An eternity later, elevator No. 10 opened and they stepped in. There was only one button, labeled “Basement.” He pushed it and felt the elevator lurch downward.

  "Come on, come on, come on, come on,” Arnold muttered under his breath. Finally, they were in the basement, facing the wall of a long corridor. To their right, Arnold noticed that the steel fire door at the end of the corridor was unbolted. To their left, he heard voices coming down the stairs.

  "See if there's anybody in the basement,” they heard a voice growl loudly.

  Arnold suddenly ran toward the open door down the hallway on their right.

  "Are you crazy, Arnold?” Harold hollered after him.

  Arnold didn't respond, but ran as fast as he could toward the door.

  "Arnold, don't!” Ray said. Harold and Ray exchanged glances, and then took off after him. They were in this together even if that meant joining their comrade in a suicide charge. They were all probably going to die at the hands of the mob one way or another, so they might as well go out fighting.

  Arnold was almost upon the door when they saw the handle start to turn from the other side.

  "Through here. It's unlocked,” they heard a voice call on the other side of the door.

  Arnold slammed himself up against the door. The force of his impact drove the door closed, pushing back whoever was on the other side. In the same instant, he threw the bolt at the top of the door, locking it. The pounding against the door indicated he had been successful in staving off the onslaught, for the moment.

  "That was fucking insane, Arnold,” Ray yelled.

  "I'm not quite ready to give up just yet, Ray,” Arnold replied.

  Arnold noticed another long corridor and another fire door at the end of that corridor.

  Then they jumped back as gunshots were fired into the steel door in front of them. “Break this goddamn door down,” an angry voice commanded. “There's somebody down there. I want that fucker dead!"

  The mob on the other side was breaking the door down. They would be safe for only a few minutes.

  "What's down there, Ray?” Arnold pointed down the intersecting corridor.

  "The parking garage."

  "Okay.” Arnold thought for a moment and then said, “We'll make a run for your car. What floor are you parked on?"

  "Fourth."

  "Goddammit, Ray,” Arnold hissed. “Is that an elevator to the garage there?"

  "Yes."

  "Ok. Run like hell, boys. Follow me. And don't fucking be telling me you left your car keys in your office,” he called back to Ray as he sprinted for the elevator
door at the end of the corridor.

  Ray's breathed a sigh of relief as a quick check of his pockets revealed his keys.

  Arnold hit the “Up” button as he slid to a halt, with Ray and Harold right behind him. All of them were breathing heavily from both the physical activity and sheer adrenaline.

  At last the door opened and they scurried into the small elevator car. They turned to see the fire door come crashing down and a dozen or more armed men pour into the corridor. As the elevator door closed, one of the members of the mob spotted them?

  "They're heading for the parking garage.” One lifted the rifle he was carrying and fired it wildly at the elevator door. They heard the bullet shatter against the metal door just as it finished closing.

  "Make sure your weapons are loaded, gentlemen,” Arnold ordered. “We don't know what we might be facing when this door opens.” Harold checked the barrels of the shotgun and reached into the duffle bag to grab several extra rounds that he put into his jacket pocket. Arnold did the same with his rifle.

  "All I want you to do, Ray, is get that goddamn car unlocked and started as fast as you can. Don't worry about anything else. Harold and I will take care of anyone we encounter, right, Harold?” He looked at Harold. If the aging senator was feeling any panic, he wasn't showing it. He's pretty cool under fire, Arnold thought with relief.

  The elevator door finally opened as they arrived at the fourth floor of the parking structure. Ray was about to rush out, when Arnold grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and pulled him back.

  "Not so fast, Ray,” he whispered hoarsely. Then he lifted his rifle and stuck his head out of the elevator door for a brief second, looking quickly in each direction. Not seeing anyone, he then gestured for the others to follow him.

  "Where's your car, Ray?"

  "Down at the far end,” Ray pointed. “The dark blue Tercel."

  Arnold shoulders slumped for the slightest instant. It was going to be too damn close. By the time they got to the car, the mob would undoubtedly have gotten to this floor.

  "OK. Let's go.” Arnold said, and ran toward the far end of the garage. Ray and Harold were close on his heels. They were within twenty-five yards of the car when a stairwell door slammed open.

  "There they are!” a voice cried out. “Don't let those Jew bastards get away.” Shots were fired, one whizzing just past the head of Harold, who stopped and turned around angrily.

  A hundred yards away, a tall burly man was aiming a high-powered rifle right at him. Without thinking, Harold fired one barrel of his shotgun. Even at that distance, the pellets hit with impact, taking the man and several people next to him down, but not killing them. The rest of the mob darted for cover behind the few remaining parked cars.

  By this time, Ray had managed to get the car started. Arnold jumped into the front seat and Harold turned and grabbed the handle on the back door and dove in as Ray swung the wheel around. Ray squealed the tires as he put the pedal to the floor and headed for the exit ramp. Directly in front of him, another band of three men stood, taking aim with rifles and pistols. A volley of bullets were followed by a cascading echo of shots. One bullet hit the windshield, blowing it out.

  Harold leaned out the back window and emptied his second barrel. It took one of the men down. The remaining two stood their ground and fired another round that somehow managed to miss all three of them, although one bullet embedded itself in the upholstery, missing Harold by a hair.

  Arnold took quick aim and fired, hitting one of the gunmen in the shoulder, forcing him to drop his weapon.

  Ray downshifted and screeched the tires. The third gunman had a bead on him with his pistol. It was a race between the car and the man's ability to pull the trigger. Ray won, as his car slammed into the man, and sent him hurtling over the car. Harold turned to see his body roll like a log and collapse into a lifeless mass on the concrete floor behind them.

  By then, a screaming band was running after them, firing at them wildly. Ray entered the curving exit ramp without slowing. His car bounced back and forth off the retaining walls and he just managed to keep it under control as they spiraled down the ramp.

  Finally, they were at the ground floor and he raced his car toward the guardrail. He drove right through it. He brought the car to an abrupt stop in the middle of the street.

  For a moment, an eerie silence hung over the night. Then, from their right, a large mob rounded the corner of the building and ran madly toward them.

  "Get us the hell out of here, Ray,” Arnold ordered, pointing left.

  "Where to?” Ray punched the pedal to the floor.

  "Just drive, Ray. Don't stop for anything or anybody until we get out of town."

  The mob came to a stop as the taillights of the Tercel quickly receded. Having no other targets against which to vent their rage, they began turning on each other.

  * * * *

  As they became aware they were finally safe for the moment, Arnold and Harold looked around. What they saw filled them with horror and dread. Everywhere, buildings burned out of control. No sirens sounded, which they all thought odd. They didn't realize then was that even the police and fire fighters had become possessed by the same madness that had gripped everyone else. They became aware of the black cloud that had rapidly blanketed the entire city. They were filled with terror, but each of them struggled to rein it under control.

  As they drove along, they saw bodies strewn everywhere. It was as if the entire city had been bombed from above. A few pitiful souls, who had not been fortunate enough to die quickly, moaned in agony from wounds Arnold and Ray both knew from battlefield experience would take their grisly toll soon enough. How could all of this have happened so abruptly?

  They all grew grimly silent as Ray drove them to anyplace but there.

  * * * *

  MISSILES AND ROCKETS thundered throughout Jerusalem. Within minutes after the first air raid sirens sounded, the first blast exploded. It was followed rapidly by a series of explosions that moved closer and closer to Angelino and the Knights.

  They ran through the streets, heading for the sacred ground of the Temple of Solomon located in the center of the city. Only the archeological remnants of what was generally believed to be the original Temple still stood—the famous Wailing Wall. This was the Temple where Jesus had debated with the Pharisees and had upset the tables of the moneychangers, and a place sacred to Jews, Christians and Muslims around the world.

  * * * *

  The bombs fell closer still, exploding within just a few hundred yards of the twelve. Angelino finally lifted his hand signaling the Knights to stop, and in the next instant, he transported them to the site of the ancient temple.

  The Temple had been built and destroyed twice, once by the Babylonians, and again by the Romans after the crucifixion of Christ. Although many scholars doubted this was actual site of the sacred temple, the people of Jerusalem had no such doubt. To them, it was a given that the ruins were the very Temple of the Bible.

  All around them bombs fell, exploding with devastating effectiveness. Screams of terror echoed through the streets. The cloud of evil making its way around the world was enveloping the city in dark horror.

  The Twelve Knights of the Ascension held hands, forming a solid human ring. Angelino spoke above the maelstrom of fury raging around them.

  "For two thousand years, the world has awaited the return of the One True God in the form of his only begotten Son, The Christ, to vanquish from this earth once and for all the forces of Darkness. The battle, won long ago on the astral plane, and consecrated in the realm of Spirit, will soon be made manifest in the world of physical existence. Then, victory shall be complete!

  "The anti-Christ walks the earth. This is the one final sign the victory of Christ is upon us, for it is written the Christ shall vanquish the anti-Christ. On this Holy spot, the sacred Temple of Solomon once stood. Here was housed the Ark of the Covenant. Here, Jesus, the true Jesus, chased the money changers from this very Temple. Here
, the true Jesus debated the hypocritical Pharisees. And here we, the Knights of Ascension, consecrate our mission as agents of The Christ.

  "Behold, the holy Temple of Solomon!"

  Slowly, appearing first in a haze, the form of a golden structure shimmered faintly around them. The human ring formed by the Knights began to glow with a bright, golden light, as energy was transmitted in and through them, coursing back and forth like a form of alternating spiritual current. The glow grew brighter by the moment, until it totally obliterated the black cloud of evil that hung over them. The ring of gold slowly climbed upward, becoming a cylinder extending up into the sky. The shimmering structure solidified until they stood before the altar within the Temple of Solomon. It was not an image or a mirage, but a solid structure, as real as any material building. The golden cylinder of power rose up through the center of the Temple, extending into the darkening sky.

  Angelino continued, his voice powerful and booming.

  "Just as the spirit of the Temple, which has lived on in the hearts of mankind, has now manifested as the very structure itself, so too, will the Christ manifest and walk again upon the earth, healing the raging of hatreds, removing the darkness of fear, soothing the flames of anger.

  "It is written the anti-Christ's arrival will be heralded by the rising and subsequent destruction of the Temple of Solomon. In that very destruction, out of the ashes of devastation, will the true power of the Christ be forever resurrected."

  "Thy will be done!"

  * * * *

  DEEP WITHIN THE bowels of the earth, the anti-Christ reached out with his psychic senses. Projected in front of him was the image of Angelino and the Knights, holding hands within the newly formed Temple of Solomon. At last, they are all together. His face knotted into a contorted sneer of evil, his eyes flaming red.

  "Now, Angelino, it is finished."

  He closed his eyes and conjured the act.

  * * * *

  As the darkness billowed above, far away at an isolated, unmanned Israeli nuclear missile silo, the silo doors slowly opened, and the armed warhead pointed up into the sky. The engines flamed beneath it, and for a surreal moment that seemed frozen in time, the fire billowed beneath the rocket. Finally, the accumulated thrust of the flaming fuel pushed the rocket upward. As it cleared the silo, the rocket picked up speed, until it became a fiery streak disappearing into the darkness.