“Works for me,” said the man pulling her hair.
“Hold this,” said the first man, as he handed his rifle to his companion.
“Hold it yourself,” the other answered as he let both their weapons drop to the carpeted floor.
Attempting to push her to the bed, she resisted, scratching the first man across his face.
Recoiling, he felt his face, and the blood on his hand revealed the extent of his wound. “You dirty slut!” he screamed as he struck her across the face and then grabbed her left hand, twisting it behind her. Taking hold of the bandaged stump of her right wrist in his other hand, he twisted both of her arms and gave a hard sharp jerk downwards, dislocating her left shoulder and making that arm useless. Her missing right hand fouled his grip and so as the woman screamed in agony, he shifted his hold and with the stump in one hand and her elbow in the other, he countered the one against the other, and with a nauseating snap, broke her right arm at the joint. Quivering with unbearable pain, she prayed she would lose consciousness as she was thrown to the bed and the two men tore off her pants and dropped their own.
Suddenly there was a flash of motion from behind, as the woman’s husband who had been hiding elsewhere in the house, ran crazed with anger into the room toward the two men. In his left — and only — hand was a large claw hammer, the only weapon he could find.
With a single stroke, he drove the claw deep into the skull of the first soldier. Then, ripping it from the man’s head, he attempted to do the same to the second, but instead hit the man’s arm raised in defense. The force of the blow knocked the soldier back, and being unable to catch himself because his pants were down around his knees, he fell to the ground and became easy prey for the relentless blows of the hammer.
Down on the floor, the adrenalin compelling him to continue bludgeoning the soldier though he was already dead, the woman’s husband nearly missed the sound of others coming into the apartment. At the last moment, he dropped the hammer and reached for one of the rifles on the floor. Not suspecting what had happened, the second pair of UN soldiers appeared at the door, and four shots rang out. The two men collapsed as their blood spilled out upon the floor.
Breathing hard and barely able to stand, the man turned his attention to his wife and didn’t notice a moment later as two more soldiers entered the apartment.
They came through the bedroom door shooting. When it was over, the woman’s husband lay with the four soldiers, dead on the floor. Unseen on the other side of the closet from where she had hidden, a stray bullet had pierced the closed door and the small body of her four-year-old daughter. The woman had been wounded in the side, but she didn’t feel it for the pain in her shoulder and arm . . . and for the pain in her heart.
As blood ran from her wound, the two soldiers completed what the first two had started, raping her, and when they were done, they put a bullet through her head.[257]
From his battle headquarters on the Mount of Olives, General Kerpelman peered through his binoculars down at the city of Jerusalem. What he saw didn’t please him, and the reports he was receiving pleased him even less. The Jews were fighting as people possessed. Though each had only one hand, even the frail and elderly had proven difficult to subdue.[258] Now as he cast his view toward the Temple, he saw three men on the pinnacle at the base of Christopher’s statue, planting explosives.
[Photo Caption: Mount of Olives seen from Jerusalem]
“I want those men dead,” he shouted, pointing in their direction with his ever-present baton. But it was too late. Before marksmen could be dispatched, the sound of the explosion echoed in the hills around them. As Kerpelman watched in horror, knowing how upset this would make the secretary general, the statue fell to the street below and crashed in a heap.
General Kerpelman screamed irately and cursed God. His cursing had nothing to do with any belief that in doing so he would weaken Yahweh’s control of the situation. Rather he cursed, as he always had, in anger.
“Colonel,” he shouted to his second in command, “direct the artillery to target the Temple. Give our people two minutes to get out of there, and then I want that entire structure turned into a blazing crematorium! I want to smell their flesh burn!”[259]
Chapter 24
The Epic of Eight Millennia
Outside of Petra
“You didn’t say anything about this!” shouted American Ambassador and Security Council primary, Jackson Clark.
Secretary General Christopher Goodman sat calmly and confidently despite the verbal challenge.
Clark continued his assault. “Or didn’t you think the destruction of Babylon and thousands of cities around the world was important enough to mention?!”[260]
There was unanimous agreement from the other members of the Security Council who were equally angered and distressed, most stunned beyond words by the reports of worldwide destruction.
“In a single day, a single hour,” Ambassador Gandhi charged, holding nothing back, “everything we have worked to build is in ruin. All because we trusted you!”[261]
“I understand your concerns,” Christopher at last responded. “And in truth I’m surprised that Yahweh would use this tactic. It makes no sense, except perhaps as a distraction.”
“A distraction?!” Clark howled incredulously. “You consider a 12.9 magnitude earthquake, hundred pound hailstones, and millions of deaths a distraction?!”
Christopher refused to respond in kind. Calmly he answered, “All that Yahweh can possibly hope to accomplish is to use this to distract us from our real mission here.”
“Well, it’s working!” Clark spat, and the others supported with vigorous nods of approval and a chorus of “yes!” or “exactly!” and various other guttural utterances.
Christopher looked around at each of the members of the Security Council and then unfalteringly into the eyes of Jackson Clark, then answered slowly and firmly, “Tomorrow, when this battle is over, I will restore Babylon: everything and everyone in it. And within three days time I will do the same for every other city that has been destroyed. By the end of three days, no evidence will remain that there ever was an earthquake, or fires, or hail.”
Clark and all those around him were momentarily struck dumb by Christopher’s bold assertion. Despite its seeming audaciousness and unbelievable magnitude, from all they had seen, they couldn’t help but wonder if Christopher was, indeed, capable of fulfilling this promise.
“If we’re not all dead by then!” Clark ventured finally, shaking his head. There wasn’t much else he could say.
The Mount of Olives, overlooking Jerusalem
When the bloodbath in Jerusalem and the surrounding areas ended, thousands had been killed. Hardly a girl or woman hadn’t been raped several times.[262] The Jewish dead were dumped outside the city for wild animals and birds.[263] Those who hadn’t been killed were held captive, with half taken from the city to execution facilities and half temporarily held[264] in the Kidron Valley below General Kerpelman’s headquarters on the Mount of Olives. On the hill between Kerpelman and the captives, the construction and assembly of guillotines brought in for the occasion went on at a feverish pace. General Kerpelman had vowed before the fight that the Kidron Valley would flow with the blood of the Jews, and flow it would. Other forms of execution were quicker and neater, but beheading had become quite popular with the troops, and General Kerpelman was always conscious of the importance of maintaining troop morale.
At gunpoint, Prime Minister Gabrielle Ben-Judah, beaten and repeatedly raped and with her arms tied behind her back, was marched by two blue bereted soldiers up the hill to where General Kerpelman waited, relishing the moment. This wasn’t the first time they had met. As general in charge of UN forces assigned to Israel, Kerpelman had regular contact with Ben-Judah in her role as prime minister. Though Kerpelman had never trusted the Jew, then she had worked with the UN, supporting Secretary-General’s Goodman’s initiatives to open the city and the Temple to non-Jews. Somewhere Ben-Jud
ah had changed sides, or perhaps she had always been an agent of the KDP. Kerpelman didn’t care which; he was glad to have the Jew where he wanted her at last.
Soon the two stood face to face.
Heaving a sigh of disgust, Kerpelman looked over his captive, paying particular attention to the stump that had been her right hand. He had given some thought before their meeting to what he might say, but now realized that whatever he said would be a waste of his breath. Kerpelman didn’t want to communicate with the Jew; he wanted to humiliate her, then to crush her. He would no more have anything to say to Gabrielle Ben-Judah than one would say to an irritating insect before smashing it.
Finally, when Kerpelman was satisfied with his silent examination of his enemy, he set his footing, and with all the strength his anger and disgust could marshal, he struck Ben-Judah across the right side of her face with his baton, knocking her to the ground.[265]
Kerpelman laughed and shared a smile of accomplishment with the two UN soldiers who had escorted Ben-Judah to him.
Bleeding and dazed, with her arms still tied behind her, Ben-Judah rolled to her side and struggled to get to her feet. Having at length accomplished the task, she stood and faced Kerpelman again. For a long moment the two looked each other in the eye. And then, without speaking, she turned her head and silently offered the latter day Nazi her other cheek also.
“Get her out of my sight!” Kerpelman ordered the soldiers.
Petra
Inside Petra, word of the destruction of the Temple and the fall of Jerusalem reached Chaim Levin, who immediately called for the people to assemble for prayer. Addressing the gathering, he read from the Psalms:
“O God, the nations have invaded your inheritance; they have defiled your holy temple, they have reduced Jerusalem to rubble. They have given the dead bodies of your servants as food to the birds of the air, the flesh of your saints to the beasts of the earth. They have poured out blood like water all around Jerusalem, and there is no one to bury the dead. We are objects of reproach to our neighbors, of scorn and derision to those around us.
“How long, O Lord? Will you be angry forever? How long will your jealousy burn like fire? Pour out your wrath on the nations that do not acknowledge you, on the kingdoms that do not call on your name; for they have devoured Jacob and destroyed his homeland. Do not hold against us the sins of the fathers; may your mercy come quickly to meet us, for we are in desperate need.
“Help us, O God our Savior, for the glory of your name; deliver us and forgive our sins for your name’s sake. Why should the nations say, ‘Where is their God?’ Before our eyes, make known among the nations that you avenge the outpoured blood of your servants. May the groans of the prisoners come before you; by the strength of your arm preserve those condemned to die.
“ . . . Return to us, O God Almighty! Look down from heaven and see! . . . Let your hand rest on the man at your right hand, the son of man you have raised up for yourself.”[266]
The Mount of Olives
General Kerpelman looked down from the Mount of Olives on the row of guillotines and the thousands of captive inhabitants of Jerusalem who would shortly feel the blades upon their necks. To his right and left on the hillside, his soldiers stood by in raucous anticipation of the bloodletting. The exhilaration of the moment filled Kerpelman with power and faith in his own destiny.
[Photo Caption: Jerusalem seen from the Mount of Olives]
Farther up on the hillside, only a hundred yards behind Kerpelman, where no one had been a moment before, a man clothed in a white robe stood silently looking down on the scene.[267]
Suddenly, Kerpelman felt his knees buckle beneath him and everything within his range of vision began to shake violently. Trembling with the massive quake, the guillotines jerked and heaved from side to side, breaking apart or toppling over, many of them falling on those who had been assembling them.
UN soldiers and Jewish captives alike struggled to stand and were thrown from their feet by the massive aftershock of the quake that had consumed Babylon. Kerpelman’s headquarters tent twisted and collapsed, bringing down with it the flag of his rank and the flag of the United Nations. And then, as he rode out the upheaval, a small crack opened in the dirt at Kerpelman’s feet.
At first it wasn’t even noticeable with all else that was happening around him, but quickly it grew to a span of several inches. Seeing the fissure, Kerpelman attempted to right himself on one side of the split or the other, but the quake continued so strong it proved impossible to shift his weight entirely to either side. And still the crack continued to grow. Watching as it did and yet unable to compensate for the shaking, Kerpelman called out for help.
Doing their best to respond, two aides tried to reach him, first attempting to run and then finally crawling on hands and knees, but neither came close enough. At his feet, the cleft became wide enough that he could now see that it ran to a depth of more than a hundred feet. A moment later, unable to keep his footing any longer, he toppled and fell headlong into the chasm, flailing as the breach swallowed him. Coming down with nothing to slow his fall, Kerpelman landed with tremendous force against a large jagged rock. The wind knocked from his lungs, he realized he couldn’t move: He had broken his back.
The stone ramparts of the city tossed with the quake and then finally collapsed, rolling huge stones down upon the thousands of soldiers in the Kidron Valley who had assembled there for the executions.[268] Those who weren’t crushed were forced to flee the valley to the east and west, leaving the captives nearly unguarded.[269]
General Rudolph Kerpelman caught his breath, but he could no longer feel his body as it shook with the mountain around him. The fracture into which he had fallen was now more than ten feet wide and it continued to expand. Despite his situation, Kerpelman felt himself begin to grow tired. Unaware of the massive bleeding, which drained him of his strength, and only vaguely sensing the warmth of the flow of blood from his mouth and down his neck, he was at a loss to understand his sudden fatigue. Slowly his eyes drooped shut, but opened again when he heard voices coming toward him.
Rescue had come; he was sure of it.
But it was not rescue; those approaching were escaping Jews.
The gulf had swollen to fourteen feet, entirely cleaving the mountain from east to west, and as the earth continued to heave, the split grew wider.
Suddenly the paries of dirt next to Kerpelman collapsed, covering his body with earth and rocks. Only his face remained exposed, and it so well concealed that those approaching didn’t see him.
At first only a few, then scores ran past him, fleeing through the canyon that had formed.[270] Buried only a bit prematurely, his mission thwarted, Kerpelman looked up at those passing by.
He didn’t call out for help. Even if they had offered, he didn’t want their help. He desperately tried to hold on to consciousness, and though it sickened him to watch the Jews escaping, there was something he hoped to see before he died. Finally, his patience paid off as he saw Gabrielle Ben-Judah running through the valley toward him. On her face, a huge bloody welt had formed where Kerpelman had struck her. Kerpelman smiled to himself, spit up some blood, and died.
Monday, September 21, 4 N.A.
Petra
Inside Petra, prayers for deliverance and rescue continued throughout the night. Now, more than an hour before morning, Chaim Levin ended his prayers and called for Sam Newberg and Benjamin Cohen. “It’s time,” he told them, though they knew it as well as he. The whole of Petra seemed to know, for they rose as one and followed Levin, Cohen, and Newberg as they started up the steep winding path toward the top of Jebel Haroun, where, according to tradition, Aaron, the brother of Moses, is buried. It was a long hard climb on this warmer than usual[271] September morning, but no one thought twice about going.
“Yom Tov,” Levin told his companions, for the day was Yom Kippur.[272]
“Yom Tov,” Newberg and Cohen responded.
Robert Milner woke early and breathed deeply of
the air of victory’s dawn. This was the day of the end and the beginning. By nightfall, Christopher and those who followed him would utterly destroy the final remnant of the Cult of Yahweh, and at last the Earth would be free. Never again would shadows of conscience or whispers of guilt enter into his mind. Never again would his feelings, his desires, his thoughts, or his actions be measured by any standard but his own. Soon the world would forget there ever was a Yahweh. It was the work, the dream, the quest of his lifetime, and today it would all come to pass.
As those who followed Levin, Cohen, and Newberg reached the summit of Jebel Haroun, many saw for the first time in the predawn light the incredible size of the force that Christopher had led against them. Their camp spread out like a thick blanket around Petra, extending out for forty miles. To the east and northwest the procession of those coming against them still seemed to stretch on forever.
And there was one other thing — birds, hundreds of millions perched still and silent on every branch and rock of the mountains around them for as far as the eye could see.[273]
Finally, with all assembled, Chaim Levin began to read from the prophet Isaiah. He didn’t read to the people but faced away from them, looking toward the east.
“Oh, that you would rend the heavens and come down, that the mountains would tremble before you! As when fire sets twigs ablaze and causes water to boil, come down to make your name known to your enemies and cause the nations to quake before you! For when you did awesome things that we did not expect, you came down, and the mountains trembled before you. Since ancient times no one has heard, no ear has perceived, no eye has seen any God besides you, who acts on behalf of those who wait for him. . . . Oh, look upon us, we pray, for we are all your people. Your sacred cities have become a desert; even Zion is a desert, Jerusalem a desolation. Our holy and glorious temple, where our fathers praised you, has been burned with fire, and all that we treasured lies in ruins.”[274]
The Christ Clone Trilogy - Book Three: ACTS OF GOD (Revised & Expanded) Page 36
