by D. I. Telbat
"Eagle Eyes!"
"Chloe?"
"What happened? Where's Corban?"
"He . . . didn't make it."
"What do you mean he didn't make it? You were with him!"
Annette didn't know how Nathan could answer her. The events in the room that night had been so confusing prior to her passing out. Her memory seemed infected by some sort of nightmarish idea that Titus had released a couple of piglets in the room. She'd been next to Corban, and after two weeks in captivity, that's all that seemed important. For a little while, even with militants in the room, she'd felt safe, and even safer when Titus had shown up—for her. The fact that her last memory was standing next to Corban told her that the soft-spoken spy for Christ had helped save her life.
If there was even a chance that Titus was alive, Annette had to find him. No one else knew where the tunnel was. How would she live another day knowing she hadn't at least looked to see if the man who had come for her was still alive? An arm's length away from Nathan, Annette darted away, her eyes focused on a dark section of ground next to the burning debris of the school.
"Cover us!" she heard Nathan yell to the woman on the roof, then she heard his boots pounding the ground after her.
"Annette! This isn't safe!"
Next to the school, Annette ran through the bushes in the darkness when three soldiers with military helmets rose from their cover. They yelled at her in Arabic, but she could see they wore Israeli uniforms. She slid to a stop, her hands raised. When Nathan charged up behind her, two more soldiers broke cover and there was more yelling.
But suddenly, the first three soldiers flinched and fell over, tranquilized. The next two were incapacitated just as quickly, and then Annette was running again. Corban's people never ceased to amaze her.
That's when she knew for sure. She wasn't the same inside. Nothing she'd done had caused the change in her, but her contact with true people of God had planted a seed. What was in them was greater than anything she'd known in the world. And what was in them, was in her. She was like them. She was a Christian. For eternity, she would never be the same. And for some compelling reason, she wanted to tell Titus, if he was still alive.
#######
Israel
Crac Hassad was losing control. Israel and the Zionists were ruining everything. Even Sohayb had vanished. For years, the youth had obeyed his every word. Now, when Allah needed him most, Sohayb was missing.
"Weak, just like my brother." Hassad spat. He stretched out a piece of duct tape and passed it to his man under the drone.
It was righteous hatred, Hassad told himself—killing his brother's family, but keeping Sohayb alive to raise as his own son. It was a tale worthy of the legends of Allah's greatest warriors. Hadn't he become one of the greatest? Soon, Israel would be the scorn of the earth.
"We have to launch now," Hassad said to his men. Only three of his soldiers remained alive. If there were others, they had scattered into the night on the Gazan side of the tunnel. "It's daylight. The whole world can witness Israel's drone blowing up the Dome of the Rock."
"It won't fly. Not like this."
Hassad turned and looked down at the man he'd thought to be Muhammad ibn Affal. The bleeding and now beardless man was duct taped to a pallet, but Hassad perceived the man was paralyzed; his legs were unnaturally positioned.
"Soon, you will die, and Allah will curse you to the fires of hell. Those burns on your face are a foretaste."
"That drone is a precision instrument. It won't fly with taped wings. You should repair it. Find the right parts."
"You just want me to stall even longer." Hassad slapped the man on the side of the head. "Your sabotage was ill-conceived."
Hassad's men opened the garage doors again, and another operated the controls from a laptop station. The drone's nose propeller came to life.
"Send her into the sky." Hassad folded his hands. He saw in the drone his life's work against Israel—the school, the tunnel, and now this final act. Nothing had gone perfectly, but the finish line was all that mattered. "Send her into the sky with Allah's blessings!"
The technician released the drone's brake. It shot forward on its rail and flew out of the garage door. Hassad ran to the open door and looked into the sky for the death-maker of Israel. But the drone wasn't soaring into the sky. Instead, it remained only a few feet off the street. With fury, Hassad realized even with its fuel replaced, the wings' damage was too great.
The drone arced to the left and slammed into the stucco wall around an Israeli courtyard across the street. The missiles didn't explode since they hadn't yet been armed. Its engine whined loudly for a moment, its nose damaged and stuck in the wall, then the engine died.
Hassad's rage rose within him. Never had he tortured anyone the way he would torture the man who had pretended to be Muhammad ibn Affal.
He stood over the beardless, crippled man and spat on him. They needed to leave the house. It was only a matter of time before the police arrived to investigate the drone crash. The IDF would soon follow. But at least he would have a prisoner, and he would be in Israel. The damage he could do with a few good soldiers, now already in Israel, was a tantalizing thought!
"Load him into the truck," he ordered his men, who stood around in uncertainty since they had failed him. He would punish them later for their incompetence, but for now, he needed them. "We're leaving!"
"I don't think so," a strange voice said from the back of the garage.
Hassad growled at the sight of the charred and ruffled blond man who stepped forward. It was Titus Caspertein, the Serval. Hamas intelligence reports had the smuggler's picture, and Hassad had known he was in the school when it had been bombed.
"Caspertein! You're just the man I could use now. You'll still be paid. Come." Hassad then noticed the strange gun in Titus' hand. "What is this? Caspertein! I didn't know they would attack the school. We have the same goals. Look at me! No one in Gaza is wealthier than me. Hamas will rise again. Last night was Allah's way of telling us to try harder. You'll be paid for even better weapons. What are you doing?"
"Back away from my guy." Titus waved his gun at the man as he hobbled closer. His foot was wrapped, but it left bloody marks on the floor after him. "You okay, Corban?"
"Your man?" Hassad glanced between the two men—the one called Corban and the Serval. "You are with this impersonator?"
"With him?" Titus scoffed. "I'd be lucky to be with him. He's always a step ahead of me. You okay, Corban?"
"A sliver or two. Glad you made it. Meet Crac Hassad. He about launched an Israeli drone against Israel."
Hassad looked around the garage for a weapon. For the last few years, he'd walked around unarmed, daring his enemies. Sohayb and Petra had always been nearby with their guns. Where was Sohayb?
"Crac Hassad, huh? On your knees, Crocker. Hands behind your head." Titus smiled. "Always wanted to arrest someone. Usually, I'm on the other end of that command."
"Allah will avenge me!" Hassad had never been so disrespected. No one ordered him around like this! "The blood of my ancestors—"
"Oh, be quiet."
Hassad knelt and interlocked his fingers behind his head. So, he would be arrested, but he would get word to Sohayb. The fight would go on. Israel could not win! He'd heard of Hamas commanders continuing the fight from prisons inside Israel, and sometimes the UN pressured Israel to release even the most radical Palestinians. Yes, he would not stop fighting!
The sound of running feet approached. Hassad's heart beat with new vigor. A masked man looked in through the garage door with a bearded man close behind.
"My men return to fight!" Hassad rose to his feet and pointed at Titus. "Kill this spawn of a Jew!"
Instead, the masked man removed his mask, and shook out his long hair. It was not a man at all, but a woman! Annette Sheffield! She glanced at Titus, then smiled at Hassad. Hassad's teeth clenched together so hard they felt numb.
"I'll kill you both with—"
&n
bsp; Hassad was hit with a dozen pellets from the strange gun Caspertein held. Involuntarily, Hassad fell to his knees. His arms felt heavy.
"I was wondering where I dropped that gun," Corban said.
"It ain't easy keeping up with you, Corban," Titus said. "Didn't you hear me calling for you?"
Annette ran into Titus' arms.
With his mind swimming, Hassad's gaze fell on Corban. These people were not Israelis. It made no sense. How had they risked their lives against him—and won? He tumbled over, then everything went dark.
*~*
Conclusion
Jerusalem
Corban Dowler lay in his hospital bed, awake now, but he kept his eyes closed, taking in the softness of the bed under him, and the air that smelled like sunshine. The room he was in seemed far too small for so many people whose soft voices he heard around him.
"The doctor said most of the burns will heal within a month, but there'll be some scarring."
"Thank you for being here for him, Chloe."
Chloe and Janice. Corban's heart warmed at the thought of his wife being there to take care of him. She'd not tolerate him lying around.
"The boss'll never be the same without his legs."
"Hey, Scooter, at least you're not the shortest guy in COIL anymore!"
Corban, with eyes still closed, almost laughed as the others scolded Bruno, the bear-sized COIL teammate, for his words.
"I still can't believe you brought a piglet to a gunfight," Nathan said, and several chuckled. "A piglet? What were you thinking? Hassad's people went crazy, shooting at everything, even each other."
"I'm telling you," Titus said, "there were two pigs, and without them, we might all be dead right now. Tell them, Annette."
"One pig or two pigs, I'm staying out of this. I'm just glad to be out of Gaza, and there's a cease fire since Crac Hassad was arrested. But I'm pretty sure there was only one pig."
Everyone did their best to muffle their laughter. Corban was surprised the nurses were allowing them to be so loud yet remain in the room.
"Why does it matter how many pigs there were?" Chloe asked. "Any word on Rasht Hassad?"
"Only the boss knows," Nathan said. "A lot happened in the room that night that only he knows about."
"I still have a question." The room was still, waiting for Titus to continue. "I was gonna ask Corban when he woke up, but he's taking his sweet time. Now that I'm a Christian, shouldn't I join COIL or something?"
"That may be an option down the road," Chloe said. "You have some legal issues to sort out. Again, those are details to talk to Corban about."
"Stick with me," Annette said, "I know the way." There was a kissing sound, followed by a wolf whistle from someone. Probably Scooter, Corban guessed.
"Careful, you two," Chloe said, "or Nathan and Chen Li's wedding won't be the only one we celebrate while we're all here in Israel."
"As long as we all agree on one thing." Titus sounded serious. "There were definitely two pigs. I wouldn't have risked bringing only one. I always bring backup. It's a rule I have. There were two pigs."
"Well, Scooter and I have our own beef with the boss," Bruno said. "We want to know how long we have to put up with this bearded Nathan. I won't believe he's really still alive until I'm looking at the old Eagle Eyes—without all that scruff."
Corban let his mind drift through the laughter and company, and he thanked His Lord he was alive to be with them all again. His spy days were probably over if he was paralyzed now, but that didn't mean he would wash his hands of COIL. Too many Christians around the world were under COIL and his protection for him to just walk away. Or, rather, he couldn't just roll away. And maybe, when things were slow around the COIL office, he would fly to China and see if a wheelchair gave him an edge to smuggle a few Bibles into the closed country. The book of his life wasn't over yet; it was only a new chapter. With Janice at his side, and a faithful team of servants around him, COIL would continue to make a difference for Christ. The gospel would be spread, and God would be glorified.
And somewhere out there was an Italian who chewed more bubble gum than a man ought to chew—who was now a professing Christian. The future definitely held some exciting possibilities.
Corban opened his eyes.
"Hey, what's this about a wedding?"
#######
Rasht Hassad opened the door for Colonel Yasof. The two shook hands.
"Thank you for meeting with me," the colonel said as Rasht led him into the living room. "How's the safe house working for you two?"
They spoke English, but Rasht was already learning Arabic.
"Sohayb is a little anxious, but we both know our stay here is temporary."
"I've reviewed your terms," the colonel said as he set a file on the table between them, "and I've spoken to Corban Dowler, who's recuperating in Jerusalem. COIL will send you and your son back into Gaza undercover."
"We're Christians now, even my son." Rasht gestured to the younger man who stood in the corner. He appeared to be uncomfortable in the strange surroundings. "Sohayb, say something."
"Please forgive me, Colonel," Sohayb said. "I'm still adjusting to all this."
"I understand. Corban's made it clear, as you have, what your humanitarian or religious status will be. All IDF asks is that you warn us of new Hamas uprisings. This is about keeping the peace and saving lives while you're in Gaza. We can help one another."
"You're fighting against an idea called Islam, Colonel." Then Rasht folded his hands. He knew he probably looked like a professor with his clothes pressed and beard trimmed. "Bullets and rockets won't do for us. My son and I are returning to the Palestinian people with love and the Truth. People must be changed by Jesus Christ from the inside out. It is the only way."
"Fine. This isn't the first time I've approved a reformed terrorist to help keep peace between our two peoples, but your son was—"
"He and I both know the deal. We'll take pictures and be in contact. Just don't ask us to compromise our priority for Jesus. We are Christians who work for COIL, and we'll assist the IDF regarding Hamas intel at our own convenience, if we hear about uprisings."
"Thank you." Colonel Yasof and Rasht shook hands. "When I first heard of COIL, I never thought it would have this much influence."
"It's not the organization that holds the power, Colonel."
"What do you mean?"
"Let me get us some tea. My son and I want to tell you about an empty tomb."
###
*~*
WHAT'S NEXT?
I pray you have enjoyed Book Five in The COIL Series. Please leave your comment or review wherever you bought this Christian Suspense Novel. Thank you!
Continue the COIL adventure with The COIL Legacy Series, beginning with the FREE Prequel, DISTANT BOUNDARY! Visit ditelbat.com/book/distant-boundary for direct retailer links to where you can get this FREE download!
Following the prequel is Book One, DISTANT CONTACT. Be sure to scroll below to read a BONUS Chapter excerpt now! Find links to the whole series at ditelbat.com/coil-legacy.
You might also enjoy other D.I. Telbat books. Scroll to find a list of all my audiobooks, eBooks, and paperbacks.
Thank you for reading. I pray the Lord has blessed you through my writing.—David Telbat
*~*
Endnotes
As in my other COIL Series novels, I desire to focus on a Christian ministry that supports the Persecuted Church. This time, I bring you Christian Aid Mission, a ministry that serves indigenous missionaries and ministries worldwide. The following can be found on their website. Visit them at www.christianaid.org. All honor belongs to the Lord. –David Telbat
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CHRISTIAN AID MISSION
Mission Statement: Christian Aid Mission seeks to establish a witness for our Lord in every tribe and nation (Matthew 24:14) by assisting highly effective native missionaries who serve with competent indigenous mission boards based in poorer countries overseas.
Christian Aid Mission is a 60-year-old non-profit organization serving as a non-denominational foreign mission board assisting more than 500 ministries overseas with tens of thousands of indigenous or native missionaries in the field. These ministries are currently engaging more than 1,000 unreached people groups in more than 100 countries.
Our focus is on reaching the unreached—areas in the world where there are few Christians, where Christians suffer because of poverty or persecution, or where foreign missionaries are not allowed.
Reaching the Unreached
More than 40% (2.58 billion and growing) of the people living in the world today are unreached, meaning they have never heard the Gospel and there is no indigenous community of believers within their tribe or people group to evangelize them. Many live in the least developed parts of the globe. Most live in countries that are closed to foreign missionaries.
Christian Aid was first established in Washington, DC as a missionary outreach among overseas students and other visitors from unevangelized "mission field" countries. Since millions of foreign nationals come to the US and Canada every year, our goal has been to reach these visitors while they are away from home, and lead them to a saving knowledge of our Lord and Savior. Hundreds of highly educated men and women have gone back to provide leadership for indigenous missionary ministries among their own people on every continent.
When they return home to spread the gospel, we serve as their supply line. Indigenous missionary ministries do 95 percent of the pioneer missionary evangelism in the world today. Indigenous missionaries know the language, culture, political structure and there is no traveling back and forth to their home country nor down time for adjusting to a new environment. Christian Aid has found them to be the most effective and efficient missionary force for sharing the gospel.
These ministries:
--Train workers and send out missionaries
