He was thoughtful over the fact that Cal knew nothing about this famous place. “That's the place where giant heads of our past presidents are carved into the mountain, Cal,” he said, considering to himself that the man truly seemed to be from another world.
“I have a suggestion, Rick,” Cal said, almost forgetting to not say sir, “They are expecting those bases to fire on them. It looks to me like over a hundred planes will be on their way tomorrow, July 4th. If we could send our forces in the sky fast enough, from a direction they wouldn't expect, we could shoot them down while most of them are still over areas that have already been destroyed by the nuclear plant explosions.”
“Which bases do you mean?” asked Agent Foley.
“We have four in New Mexico, five in Arizona, and twenty-three in California,” said Cal, “although not all are fully functional. “If you added a few more from along the Gulf Coast states, they would surely be overwhelmed, especially since they can't imagine we're on to them. They may think all our bases to the east are destroyed already. But there was probably limited physical destruction. They may have knocked out their power, but military bases have back up sources. They dropped poison gas and contaminated our food and water, but the military have bio-hazard suits and their own food supply as well as underground safety. It may not be as expansive or elaborate as ours, but I'm sure every military base has a minimum defense force. Enough to leave them capable of striking within an hour if given the order.”
“I'll get through to the President right away,” said Agent Foley with excitement. He even hi-fived Cal like they were long-time buddies.
“Surely, you're not going to do that, Rick,” Cal said in disbelief. Rick looked into Cal's face, seeing his expression of horror. Cal looked as if he had been stabbed in the heart by a loved one.
“What you're suggesting is treasonous, Cal,” he said, almost holding his breath. “I agreed with you and your friends theoretically, and that we needed to prepare, to train, and to be ready to fight. When it comes to actually disregarding protocol, that's another thing altogether. You want me to order military action, send in troops, without going through the proper chain of command? They won't obey those orders anyway unless they have originated from the Commander in Chief of this nation.”
“Yes, sir. I mean Rick,” he said gulping with a nervous feeling in his stomach. He suddenly realized he could probably be put in jail for what he had just asked Rick to do.
“I can't do it,” Rick said, pleading for Cal's understanding. “What you are saying makes sense to me, Cal. I've almost thought the same thing. But my whole life has been based on an oath I took to serve this nation. I can't do what you want. If I could give orders to my own men, I would do it. But unless established chain of command is followed, it's just not going to happen. I hate this, too, Cal. What else can I do?”
Agent Foley walked away, whether to think or to call the President, Cal did not know. This part of the plan, he had not understood. He thought Foley had the authority to command strikes, but he did not. He wanted to call each of the commanders on the list of military bases himself and explain the situation, plead with them. Perhaps they would believe him, but probably not. They didn't know him from Adam. Funny, he thought, coming from the “new” Adam. Perhaps they were as frustrated as he was. If only Agent Foley would make those calls, there was a chance to put their plan into action. Since he wouldn't act, it was hopeless.
He went back to his computer and looked at the map. It made him angry that all these people would die because of regulations, because of hierarchy, because of respecting an office when the man holding that office was worse than corrupt, worse than a traitor, worse than most would believe. This man was the anti-Christ—the enemy not only of Christianity but of all humanity. And thinking through all of this, he realized that no commanders were going to believe him, even if he were able to contact them.
There was no point in telling the others about any of this. Agent Rick Foley was going to inform the President and that would prove disastrous for them. What good would there be in telling anyone, he thought. It would upset them to no purpose. He silently tip-toed toward the bed where Abby lie nursing their son. He did not want the burdens on his mind to disturb her when all she needed to be concerned with was mastering the womanly art of breastfeeding.
* * *
In early morning, July Fourth came and the Willow Creek Ranch community slept soundly in their exile except for Cal. He quietly eased from the bed where Abby tried to sleep for a few hours before the baby wakened for his next feeding. Using his key card, he went up the elevator and to the computer floor where a round-the-clock staff monitored the vast network of military operations—from supply line accommodations to nuclear war. He watched surveillance video from the thirteen bases in Texas on multiple split screens as explosions began erupting in El Paso, Del Rio, and Abilene. He heard the bombs blasting and clicked off the sound, unable to bear it. He viewed an obscured screen as the dust covered every lens of the surveillance cameras. It seemed to never settle. It wouldn't for days, as the ricin powder permeated the air killing whatever managed to escape death from the nuclear blasts or the radioactive fallout.
Losing the sound didn't matter, he still heard the horror of it all expressed through the moans and gasps of the men and women in their cubicles who watched from their own monitors. It should be clear now to Agent Rick Foley that his President was an enemy of his beloved nation; regardless of whether or not he could also accept that he was, indeed, the anti-Christ.
The question in Cal's mind was whether or not his new pal Rick would now join their side one hundred per cent in the war to preserve the human race. Or, not being a believer, would he at least recognize the fact that the President was in league with our enemies. A remote chance remained Foley still retained loyalty to the president's orders. Would he even after the takeover was complete? Would Foley even be willing to serve the new Islamic nation with its new leader—the President himself?
Such was one of the ways the anti-Christ controlled his followers. Most of them did not believe in his evil nature at all. They obeyed because of his lying promises of a peaceful world. Would it not bother Foley if the people of this nation worshiped a demon he did not believe in? It would not be until much later that the anti-Christ would reveal his true nature. Not until it was far too late for rebellion against him.
His phone signaled that he was receiving a text message. It was Agent Foley beckoning him to his office. He wasn't sure he felt up to seeing him just then, and he considered ignoring the text and going back to be with Abby. He felt a need to snuggle next to her and gaze upon the beauty of his newborn son.
When he got onto the elevator something compelled him to press the number for Agent Foley's floor. He might as well get it over with. Human as it was to relish being right, this was not something which he looked forward to, supposing that Foley would grant him as much. Surely, Foley had no choice but to acknowledge that the bases were being attacked in the exact manner in which Cal had predicted. This held no satisfaction for Cal whatsoever.
“What can I say,” said Agent Foley, as Cal entered his office, “I don't think I will ever get over this. Men have died before under my watch, Cal, but never so many, and I'll never forgive myself. This was my fault… all my fault… because I didn't listen to you. I promise I will not make this mistake again.”
“What does that mean, exactly?” said Cal. “Are we going to begin fighting back? How do we do that without following a proper chain of command? What about your President?”
“Do you know what his excuse was?” fumed Agent Foley. “He said we could not invade Mexico, a sovereign country. He said that the attacks by Syria and Iran were enough to deal with and that we did not want to provoke a war with Mexico.
“When I pointed out that it wasn't only Iran and Syria, but Russia, Cuba, and all the Arab countries. He said there was no proof of that. When I said that Russian and North Korean fighters had already compromised M
exico given that they were launching from within their boundaries and had been housing the planes secretly for no telling how long, he said that Mexico probably had no choice. He added that we have no choice diplomatically.
“It was then that I realized he is not capable of leading this country,” Foley admitted. “I can't accept that he is the enemy, or that he is the anti-Christ. Not without proof. But I am willing to risk my career to save this country. Hopefully, someday history will validate that we did the right thing. I figure, when the rulers that come out of hiding after it's all over, they can decide my fate. So what's your plan for dealing with our last stand?”
“My plan is to win. To defeat them,” Cal said. “Regardless that we're outnumbered and surrounded, or soon will be, and that there are no allies that can help us anywhere in the world.”
Grim as it seemed, Cal felt that God was on his side. He looked upon Agent Foley, who held no such belief, as one who could be used to fight the war but did not believe in its utmost goal—defeat of the anti-Christ. Other warriors would, men and women of faith, so he decided that what he had to work with would have to be enough.
“While they are engaged in the third phase of their operations,” said Cal, “and we've blown our chances to defeat them. I say, since we know where they're going next, we set up an ambush for them while they're not looking.”
“By we,” said Foley, “you mean the community of Willow Creek, some two thousand people.”
“Half of those are women and children,” said Cal, “and even the able-bodied men may be rusty, they may be soft, but what else do we have? We have the element of surprise. We have a lot of big guns and people who now know how to shoot them. Are you not just as dead if an office worker shoots you? Or and engineer? Or a cook? They are coming up Interstate 15 with ground troops. What's the strongest explosive you have?”
“That would be PETN,” said Rick, “It's the most powerful military grade explosive known to man. But we might be able to do better than that. Our twenty-three California bases, depending on how viable they remain, are perfectly positioned to surprise them from the west and drop some Mark 82 bombs on their butts coming from behind. If any do proceed in our direction, we'll be ready for them.
“All we have to do,” he continued, “is figure out a way to send them an order that appears to be from someone with authority, someone they would believe. I don't know how to do that, but a computer expert might.”
“We need another meeting, Rick,” said Cal, “and how about inviting some of your best computer nerds. Only we need to be sure they're not spies, that they haven't been compromised. I wouldn't be surprised if one or more have been. Could you get me a list and allow me to also look into their profiles?”
“I'll unlock that information for you right now,” answered Rick, “just go to your computer, and I'll email you the file-names. And I'm not even going to ask what you're intending to do. I trust you completely, and I hope you will find you can trust me, too. It's understandable if you're not there yet.”
“You trust me, Rick” Cal said solemnly, “in spite of not knowing who I am, assuming that you still don't believe in the repentant demon story. But I will show you the same courtesy and trust you in spite of your reluctance to believe.”
“So, we're a team,” said Agent Foley, reaching to shake Cal's hand, “a repentant demon and a reluctant believer. Don't think I don't believe in God, Cal. I've always believed God is on our side, there's just a lot I don't understand. I may have fallen away, but I haven't denied God.”
When Cal got back to his desk, he saw the email waiting for him as soon as he logged in. It contained links to the files he wanted, as well as a message: “Let me know when you are ready for the meeting. We can use the conference room.”
Cal printed the list of computer professionals, then he went into the database and started looking at the backgrounds of each one, reading about the schools they attended, their awards, their interests. This promised to take hours, which was frustrating to him, especially considering how efficiently he usually completed tasks on a computer.
This was different. He was not entering information, but extracting it. He looked through files beginning with the “A” list watching for signs of being a rule-bender who was also a believer. That wasn't easy. It's not like there was a check mark on a form for such a category. He looked for organizations, recognitions, extra-curricular activities, and even references, not even sure about his method. Show me a sign, God, he thought inside himself, exhausted, hardly realizing that he had just prayed his first prayer.
Another text message came through, this time from Abby. It just said, “You OK?” He answered, “Work. Busy. Tired. Back soon.” Suddenly he wanted badly to be with her. Not for sex; that had to wait a while, he knew that. But just to touch her silky hair and kiss her soft, smooth skin. He felt a strong and sudden need for that. He hoped he could grab a nap beside her and possibly renew his failing sense of direction. His plan wasn't working. Maybe she, or one of the others, would have a better idea.
As he gathered his things, he heard a distinct “pssst” coming from the cubicle behind him. Peeking in that direction, he saw a bespectacled man motioning to him. He pointed toward the snack lounge and pretended to sip an imaginary cup of coffee with his fingers. Cal motioned thumbs up, and left to wait for him there.
For all the jokes about government workers goofing off and gossiping around the water cooler, it didn't happen here. A strictly enforced rule against talking to co-workers made for a very quiet work environment. That was the purpose, as well as security. This work was too serious to tolerate the typical lackadaisical office environment. There were no name tags, no decorated cubicles with family pictures or silly nick-knacks. The workers rotated shifts and desk spaces to emphasize and ensure that no personal business was to take place on the government owned computers on government owned time. Lunches and breaks were taken on a solitary basis, and no talking was allowed even in the snack lounge. This strange little man must have something very important to say taking such a risk, thought Cal.
“Hi, thanks for meeting me,” he said, talking to him from the next table with his back facing Cal. “My name is Sebastian Lovelace. I know I'm not supposed to be talking to you, but at this point, if they fire me, so be it. Looks like we're all going to be dead soon anyway.”
“So what can I do for you?” asked Cal.
“I'm wondering if you have any of the same concerns as me,” he said. “Namely, we're not even trying to win this war! We are just sitting on our hands here like idiots. I saw you talking to Foley one day. I am aware of the recent weapons training, only because I snooped. I also noticed you have a military-style phone. The rest of us don't have those, so you must be part of the Willow Creek Ranch community. I thought you must know something, and I just want someone to tell me what's going on. If I'm going to die, I want to prepare myself for it, and I'd like to know why.”
“How do you prepare for death?” asked Cal. “You mean a will or insurance policies? I think those things are not going to count for much when this is over.”
“I meant spiritually,” said Sebastian, “If the world is coming to an end, I'm going to do a lot of praying. Actually, I've been doing that anyway.”
“You are a believer then?” asked Cal. He answered that he was, saying that he hadn't been to Mass in a while due to his work schedule, but that he was a devout follower and willing to die for his faith.
“Would you be interested in a covert action to kick some terrorist ass?” asked Cal, “even if it means bending some rules and taking some risks?”
“I'm your man,” answered Sebastian, “I might look like a chubby little nerd, but my brain is all ninja.”
“How do I contact you?” asked Cal, as Sebastian wrote something on his candy bar wrapper and walked away. It was his email address: [email protected]
Cal no longer felt tired. He rushed to the elevator to get back to the others and apprise them of recent
developments. It was nearly six in the morning. Brady and Uma, always early risers, were already dressed and had come back from having breakfast. Abby walked over to them carrying a sleeping baby Jonah in her arms. Cal kissed him on the head, then his wife received a passionate kiss on her luscious mouth and he embraced her completely, not even caring that people were watching. Normally, he blushed easily and was embarrassed about displays of affection in public.
“It's upon us,” he said, to all of them there. “Our final stand is beginning. We need to have another meeting. Let's get everyone together, decide who will stay with the children, and meet in the conference room with Rick about ten.”
“I want to be there,” said Abby, “and I'm sure Jonah will be fine. He won't cry or disturb the discussion. I promise.”
“I was hoping you could be there,” said Cal. “I'm used to you being by my side through everything. If Jonah gets fussy, let them deal with it. There is much worse things ahead than a crying baby.”
It was decided that Ruthie would take all the kids to the pool. Anne Marie Talbot went along with them so that her husband Jacob could join the meeting. Jerry and Jodie decided to attend the meeting together, too. Nathan promised to tell Ruthie every word of their conversation. Cal texted Rick Foley about the ten o'clock meeting and informed him that they would have a new member present, Sebastian Lovelace. He didn't explain their encounter, but just told him that this man was their newest recruit. A man who might have some solutions and was a dedicated Christian soldier. “Trust me on this,” he told Rick.
The Last Stand (Book 3) (The Repentant Demon Trilogy) Page 16
