by J. M. LeDuc
The Bishop drank like the man found on the road to Samaria.
Seven pulled it away from his lips. “Small sips, padre or you’ll cramp up and toss your cookies.”
He again nodded, pulling the thermos back and again brought it to his mouth. This time being more careful to take small amounts.
He took a deep breath, as if starved for air. “The idea of fasting goes back to the earliest day of the Jews in the Old Testament.” He again huffed in a deep breath. “It helps clear the mind of all else when in prayer and while doing the Lord’s work.”
“That’s all fine and good,” Seven said, “but with this room closed off for the last three days, the oxygen levels are fairly low and the temperature is about a hundred and five. You’re lucky you didn’t get heat stroke and pass out.”
Bishop Jessup wiped the dirt from his robe. “I wasn’t that lucky. I would have called you all sooner, but I fainted earlier and just woke up a bit ago.”
A closed lipped smile came to Brent’s face as he lowered his head and shook it back and forth. “You are resilient, if nothing else.”
Seven spit into a cup. “I was thinking stubborn, myself.”
Bishop Jessup wiped the dirt from around his mouth and pointed to the Seven’s cup. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t spit in the holiest of all places.”
With a respectful motion, he turned from the group and emptied his mouth of his tobacco.
“If you’re able, Bishop, we’ve all been waiting to hear what you found out,” Brent said.
Bishop Jessup collected his thoughts and cleared all the paperwork from the table. “If you remember, when we placed the gold foil from the arks of the Endowment and Enlightenment the etchings changed into something completely different.”
Brent and nodded, but everyone else just stood—wide eyed.
“I was the only one with you when you showed us the miracle,” Brent said. “Could you show everyone else what you found?”
Fingers trembling from dehydration, the Bishop meticulously placed the two pieces of the puzzle together. “Watch carefully as the two make contact with one another.”
Upon contact the etchings on both appeared to morph into a liquid like state before reforming into a solid of entirely different etchings. Mumbling could be heard from all present. “We know that these etchings are now in the languages of all the major religions and they tell us the name of the first messenger and where to look for him.”
He looked up from the table to see everyone staring. “The hard part was trying to fit the final piece of the puzzle in with the others. No matter how I tried, I couldn’t make it fit. Out of desperation I tried every trick I could think of. Not until I turned them over, did the third and final piece fit.”
To prove his point he separated the two pieces, each morphing back into their original state. He then turned them over and spun them one hundred and eighty degrees, not letting their edges touch. “Now if I flip over and slide the gold taken off of the Ark of the Covenant, it fits perfectly into the jagged edge left by the other pieces” He carefully moved the gold piece over so it fit perfectly into the other pieces. Again he left a slight space between the pieces.
Before touching their edges, he again spoke to his friends. “I advise you not to stare directly at the gold when I touch their edges. I did and was blinded for most of the day when I did.”
“That’s why you asked us to bring sunglasses with us when you summoned us?” Maddie asked.
Bishop Jessup drank once again and nodded. “I doubt it will be enough, but I hope it will stop the indirect light from blinding us.” They all took out the glasses they brought with them and handed the Bishop a pair.
“How will you not be blinded when you match them up?” Brent asked.
“I have done it so many times in my mind, I think I can do it with my eyes closed. We’ll know if I’m correct because even through sunglasses and eyes closed we’ll be able to see the flash.” The Bishop didn’t look up, but kept on talking. “Please study what’s before you. When I place the first two pieces together nothing will happen.” He moved the first two pieces together, nothing happened.
Bishop Jessup placed the sunglasses on and the others followed his lead. “I admonish you to please follow my directions. Before I join the final piece, close your eyes.” He then placed both hands on the final piece, closed his eyes and methodically moved it into position, touching its edge with the others. A flash of white light caused everyone to look away as they were stricken with a sudden headache. Thunder struck and the room shook when the light flashed. The flash and noise were so quick that if they hadn’t witnessed it, they would swear it didn’t happen.
“Damn,” Seven yelled, covering his eyes and looking away.
The Bishop shook his head. “There is always one doubting Thomas. I should have figured it would be you.”
Seven, not having closed his eyes, was blind to all around him. His head throbbed as if it would split down the middle. He dropped to his knees, covered his eyes and then the sides of his head, squeezing with all his strength, hoping it would stop the pain. It took fifteen minutes for his sight to return and his headache to begin to subside.
The Bishop’s attention was glued to what was on the table. He wrote and rewrote the script etched into the gold. Brent saw his confusion and asked what he found.
“I can’t make sense of any of this—well almost any of it.”
“Meaning?”
He showed Brent what he had written. Everything was exactly as it appeared on the foil except for one sentence.
Only the one who is chosen can read the glory of God.
“I think that means you,” he said, staring at Brent.
Brent bent over the table and looked at the three pieces of gold. “I don’t see anything. Only what’s written.”
“You must believe you can read what God has to tell you,” Bishop Jessup said. “Don’t look at it with the eyes of a soldier or even with the eyes of a man, but with the eyes of The Chosen.”
Brent cocked his head to the side, not quite understanding the Bishop’s words.
“Believe in who you were chosen to be and try again,” the Bishop prodded.
Brent walked to the altar and touched all that was on it. With each touch his mind raced back to the memories that each brought with it. He touched The Ark of the Endowment and memories of meeting Lucille for the first time came to him. He saw Chloe again and realized how deep his love for her was. Finally, his reunion with the Phantom Squad flashed through his mind.
Touching the Ark of the Enlightenment, he saw Lucille telling him that she was his mother and warmth filled his soul. He witnessed hearing Bishop Jessup preach for the first time. He felt the awe of finding and entering the Holy of Holies deep inside the Endowment tunnel.
As he gripped the Sword of truth, his mind raced to his fight for the Butcher’s’ soul; a battle lost. His mind raced and he saw Satan being sent back to Hell through the Book of Sufferings.
Finally, Brent laid his hand on top of the Ark of the Covenant and all went dark. No memories filled his mind. He somehow felt great power and great fear and even greater despair with his touch. His hand began to burn and he quickly withdrew it from the ark.
He grabbed his hand and fell into a deep squat in front of the altar. His head fell forward and the world went black.
When he awoke, he was high on a mountain top. Wind blew with fury and he stood knee deep in snow. He was still dressed as he was in Palm Cove yet he didn’t feel the cold that he knew had to be there. When he exhaled, he could see his breath and felt the cold in his lungs.
“Where am I?” he asked.
“You’re where you need to be at the moment,” came a voice so loving, yet it caused fear to shiver down to his core.
Brent dropped to his knees in honor of who he was speaking to.
&nb
sp; “Why am I here, Lord? What do you want of me?”
“You’re here because this is where it all began. This is where you will find meaning to it all. You were chosen before the beginning of time to deliver a message to all who believe and all who do not. You accepted your destiny months ago on the sands. I am here to tell you that your destiny is yet to be fulfilled. You will witness many miracles along the way, but you will also suffer much loss. Do not loss you faith in moments of despair.”
“I could never lose my faith in you, Father.”
“Words spoken from Peter, David and others greater than you.
You’re faith will be tried. Even though you sent The Dark One back to Hell, he still has his eyes on you. Don’t be deceived and stay strong, my son.”
Before Brent could ask what Jesus meant, he was back in the Holy of Holies. All around him, he could hear his loved ones calling his name and shaking him. He opened his eyes, not knowing if what just happened was real or not. He exhaled and he saw his breath. His question answered.
“I’m alright,” he said, raising his hands symbolically.
“What just happened?” Chloe asked, wiping his sweat from his face with the hem of her dress.
Sorrow filled his eyes. “What happened is between me and our Lord. I don’t think it was meant for anyone else.”
She read his face and nodded her understanding and mouthed the words, “It’s alright.”
Brent pulled himself up off his knees and returned to the puzzle. He closed his eyes and blocked out all he knew. The Bishop’s words: Believe in who you were chosen to be and try again, were all he concentrated on. Opening his eyes, he placed his hands on the puzzle. The etchings did not change, but he could read God’s spoken word.
You are to gather the religious leaders of all religions and ask the questions that need to be asked. If their free will is in concordance with the will of God, you may open the Ark of the Covenant.
If not, you will know what to do. Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.
Brent removed his hands from the table. He looked over at the squad. His eyes passed to Maddie, Joan, Lucille, Joseph and finally settled on Chloe. “Follow me. We have a great deal of work to do and little time to do it in.” His gaze then fell of Bishop Jessup. “Can you place the gold back on each ark, or do you wish for help?”
“I’m the one who took if off. I know each and every fold that must take place for it to fit correctly. I’ll be fine.”
Brent nodded. “Someone will be down with food and drink.”
“No,” the Bishop admonished. “I must stay in fast to be accurate.” Reading the faces of his brothers and sisters, he squeezed the water bottle. “This can stay. I’ll be fine. Now, go and do what you must.” He hugged everyone and asked for them to pray for him. Each said a silent prayer while reaching out to touch him. When they were finished they turned and left.
CHAPTER 77
At Endowment headquarters, Brent told all what he had planned. What he had to do.
“That’s a big undertaking,” Joan said, typing like a woman possessed.
“I know, that’s why you will spearhead the assignment, giving each person their orders.” Joan’s eyes squinted, she bit her lower lip and drew her mouth to the side. Brent saw self-doubt in Joan’s expression. “Look at me.” She kept on typing. “Please,” he said softly.
Joan looked up, the same doubt in her expression. Brent walked over to her and placed her face in his hands. “All your training, all your guile and intelligence have led to this assignment.” He bent down and kissed her diminutive forehead. “I have faith in you, God has faith in you. You just need to have faith in yourself.”
Her icy expression showed signs of melting. She rested her head on his chest and said she would try. A sudden thought came to her. She looked up at Brent, knowing he already knew the question. “How much time to I have?”
“It is December twentieth. The broadcast goes out at exactly midnight, Christmas Eve. You have less than four days.”
She stood ramrod straight, “In that case I need complete access to the inner and outer circle of the Endowment.”
The side of Brent’s mouth rose. “I know you’ve hacked the encryption. You have my permission to use all that is at your means.”
She returned his smile with a mirror image. “Give me two hours and we will all meet for our assignments.”
Brent swept his hair from his face, nodded and led the others to the tunnel. “We’ll wait for your call.”
Inside the tunnel, Chloe fell in step with her husband. Taking his hand, she asked, “Can you tell me anything?”
He stopped, looked her in the eye and said, “Yes, I can tell that I love you—and that you are to do exactly what your doctors and Nurse Collins instructed you to do. You will be part of the broadcast, but until then, you’ll remain in bed.”
The look in his eyes told her there was no use fighting about it and she acquiesced.
CHAPTER 78
At eleven p.m. on Christmas Eve everything was in place. Thousands of miles had been logged in flight time by the team, but they were able to get everyone they needed hooked up by satellite for the meeting. Everyone they contacted was excited yet skeptical.
Joan, a woman possessed, stormed the Holy of Holies. She was flipping pages on a clip board while talking into a blue tooth. “I need everyone to check in one more time. There are no second chances. One glitch and we’re screwed.”
Each member reviewed their assignment and gave the go sign.
Brent was going over the equipment when she walked in. He couldn’t help thinking about the scared little girl he met in Washington ten years ago. His thoughts went back to her mom. She is a lot like you, Monica. You’d be so proud of your daughter.
She looked up from her clip board.
“Is everything ready?”
Her expression was full of sarcasm. “That’s what you pay me for, isn’t it.”
Brent smiled. “I don’t pay you at all. That’s Uncle Sam’s job.”
“In that case, you owe me big.”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he smiled.
Joan smiled back and then started going over the equipment with him.
“Are you sure this can work?” he asked.
“Have I ever let you down?” she answered.
Brent gave her a fatherly peck on the cheek. “Never.”
“Then it will work,” she said, giving him a peck back. A rare show of emotion.
At twelve midnight, the sanctuary was black. The television cameras went live and all who watched saw a blank screen. Brent started talking. His voice was calm and authoritative. “You have all been invited here for one reason. The Ark of the Covenant holds a prominent place in all of your religious beliefs. Tonight, we find out the truth.”
In every corner of the world, religious leaders of every major faith were watching. They searched their screen, trying to see something in the blackness. They saw nothing.
“You have all been given microphones, but I ask you all not to interrupt what you are about to see and hear,” Brent said. His voice was fed through modulating equipment. It was distorted, but could be heard clearly. “You will all have a chance to speak after the presentation.”
With those words, the room was lit. The grandeur of the sanctuary caused each person watching to start mumbling and asking questions all at once. Brent stood in back of the altar. His face was blacked out with a mask. He was clothed in all black. No facial or bodily features could be seen. There was no way he could ever be identified. He held up one gloved hand to stifle the murmuring.
“I’ll answer the one question you all have and then I implore you to restrict your talking. If interrupted, the screen will once again go black and this broadcast will end.
“I am standing in the Holy of Holies of Solomon’s Temple. Before you i
s what is known as the Trilogy of the Arks.” Brent took the Sword of Truth and touched each of the Arks. “You were all given a report on each Ark.” He used the sword to pull the sheet off the first. “The Ark of the Endowment.” He did the same to the one in the middle. “The Ark of the Enlightenment.” Touching the third, he could feel the electricity of excitement from each viewer. He removed the sheet off the last one. “The Ark of the Covenant.
“The scrolls found tell a story of great power when these three are reunited. Not a power given to one, but the power of God.”
Omar, watching in Khan Younis balled up his fist in rage. He was not on the list of those who were invited, but Brent made sure that word would get to him. He knew he would be watching.
“There are those who feel differently,” he said. “Those who feel the power of the arks should belong to them and them alone. I’m here to tell you different. These people have found ways to steal important religious relics. I implore you to give them back. If you don’t, they will be taken from you. You will never possess the power you seek and,” Brent’s voice bellowed, “you will never be God.”
He brought the sword down hard on the altar causing a thunderous boom.
The special effects were controlled by Joan. She was sitting off camera, behind a sound board.
Omar’s face twisted in fury. He knew that those words were pointed directly at him.
The one person watching who was not a dignitary or religious head was Alana. A knight of the Endowment had shown up at her home the day before with a letter from the Ambassador telling her what was to come and inviting her to watch. She agreed and the equipment needed was installed in her home. She was glued to the screen. She could not take her eyes off of Brent. Emotions from hate to love stirred inside her as she watched.
“I will open each ark in sequential order as decreed by the true scrolls. If the scrolls are correct, we will see God’s power strengthen with each opening,” Brent said. “As they are opened, I will read from the scrolls as they were written. Before I begin, I will read what the messenger of the Lord has written.”
