Misguided: The Jesus Assassin

by Jason E. Fort

  This editorial was written by local editor and chief politics and religion correspondent, Jim Marshall. Jim is the author of Atheism Weekly, and has a weekly column in the Times. If you have any comments or questions, please contact Jim at Marshall@NYTIMES.org.

  Knox’s reaction to the Jim Marshall article was not quite as heated as the first time; it was more of a sign of resignation. He finished reading the paper and passed it over to Malik, who was enjoying a cheese Danish brought in by room service for breakfast. Beth had just finished freshening up and came out of her bedroom to sit with Knox and Malik. She could tell by the look on her man’s face that things weren’t good. She reached out and put a hand on his. Knox looked up and smiled, then got up to get his phone. He dialed up the SAC.

  Jones McCoy answered on the third ring, and surprised Agent Knox with calm words.

  “How are you and Beth holding up, John? I read the article this morning.”

  John stayed on the phone with McCoy, but re-joined Beth and Malik at the small kitchen table.

  He spoke up, “Sir – I’m sorry we’ve failed the agency. I don’t know what to say.”

  McCoy cleared his throat on the other end of the line, and replied, “John, it’s not your fault. It’s obvious this is happening from within. This assassin has some really good connections if he can pull off impersonating a member of the Secret Service. Those guys are vetted and checked more than you and I were before working for the FBI. This guy is good – too good. I want you and Beth to take a break from this thing.”

  Knox’s eyes got bigger as he tried to reply, “But, sir” –McCoy cut him off.

  “I mean it. You, White, and that Malik fellow need to take a step back. Come back to Detroit for a few days, step away from the case, and re-group. That is a direct order.”

  Knox started nodding and looked over at his partners with a calming expression.

  “Yes, sir. We’ll do it. And thank you, sir. It probably will be good to take a break from it all.”

  Knox hung up his phone, and Beth said immediately, “Let me guess – the boss says we need a break?”

  Knox nodded, and Malik shrugged his shoulders as he finished off his cheese Danish.

  He added, “Probably not a bad idea, considering we just took a major step backwards. We might as well start again.”

  Beth shook her head.

  “I still think we were going in the right direction with the CIA, and this just confirms my suspicions.”

  Knox said, “That’s what McCoy was saying. The only way for someone to infiltrate as deep as the Secret Service is to already be part of the IN crowd, as in Intelligence. But Beth, we don’t know where to go. Even if Brady or some friend of his were doing this, we have no way of finding him, or even proving that he is still alive. Heck – we don’t even know what he looks like.”

  Malik chimed in, “Well, I can tell you he’s not bald.”

  They all chuckled at that, and Knox finished, “Well, I’ll make our travel plans, and we’ll go back home. Maybe some days at home will refresh our minds.”

  With that, they all went to their separate rooms and packed their things. It was time to take a step away from the Jesus Assassin.

 

  27

  Virginia

  On the Interstate near Blacksburg, VA

 

  The Arab-American man called CIA Director Marks as he was driving down the interstate towards his target’s home.

  Marks picked up on the other end, “You better have good news for me.”

  The Arbiter replied, “It’s Brady. I had visual confirmation at the location of the last assassination; I almost took him out as soon as I was sure – but I lost him. I am on my way to his residence now.”

  Marks continued, “Be sure you fix this. That was quite a spectacle he gave us back in New York. I was hoping you would have him before that last little snafu happened.”

  “How was I supposed to know he would sneak in as a Secret Service agent – especially if he didn’t look anything like himself, and I still wasn’t 100% sure he was our killer. Don’t worry – all connections will be severed.”

  He hung up, and concentrated on the road. The Arbiter was ready to end this job; the activist Robert Brady had become quite a thorn in the government’s side, and if he were to continue his religious quest, he would bring more than embarrassment to his country. He might bring war. The Arbiter couldn’t help but wonder if his target was sitting at home, perhaps planning his next assassination. If he was at his old family home, the Arbiter would at least send him off in a place that was important to him. He felt some respect for his upcoming adversary; the man was a highly decorated Navy SEAL, and responsible for the capture and elimination of an untold number of terrorists who had been enemies of the State. It would be honorable for him to die in a place he cherished. According to GPS, the Arbiter’s destination was only five miles away. He figured that gave the activist a good twenty minutes before he met his end.

  Entry # 31May 25, 2016

  Heavenly Father – I fear this will be my last written prayer to you. I was able to defeat two more servants of Islam for you, Lord. Thank you, Father, for protecting me and giving me safe passage from my last objective – but I think I have been discovered in my mission for you. I sensed it back in New York City as I was escaping the United Nations building. I know not who pursues me, but I pray you have prepared me for whatever I am about to face. Lord, I have not yet completed my task, but I am almost halfway there. Please remain with me throughout this quest, and protect me from those who would try to stop me from completing the mission. Lord, I know I can succeed, but not without your almighty hand. If I should fail, God it will because I turned my back on you ---

  His writing was interrupted by an alarm sound coming from somewhere on the eastern corner of his property. The assassin had wired alarms all around his property, in case anyone ever came snooping around. One of his alarms was going off now, and he knew that this was the unknown evil force that was out to thwart his mission. Brady got up from his desk in his study and ran to the porch to grab his little black bag. All his essentials were still packed; he knew he had enough to survive for a little while as he tried to come up with a new plan to complete his mission. But he wasn’t going to complete anything if he didn’t escape his pursuer. He was just about to head back into the house from the screen porch to retrieve his journal, when he heard a loud crash at the front of the house. Then he heard the clatter of suppressed machine gun fire in several short spurts, and he knew he would not be back inside his home. The assassin had to make a run for it, and he knew the front of the house was out of the question. He didn’t want to give away his position, so he crept out the back screen door of the porch and ran to his reptile shelter. He ignored the containers holding all his reptiles, and went straight for the reserve stockpile of snake venom. He quickly gathered up vials and put them in his bag. He then checked back outside, and saw a clear path to the work shed. He made a run over to the shed, and on the way he glanced back over his shoulder towards the house and saw a silhouette of a man with an assault rifle pass by the kitchen window. He ran faster, and made it to the door of his shed. He flipped the light switch, went inside and grabbed his crossbow, or rather his crossbow parts; he had broken it down for easy storage for his next mission, so it was ready to go. Just before heading out to his car, he grabbed all the modified bolts for the crossbow and stuffed them into the bag as well. He had everything he needed and ran back out of the shed. When he couldn’t see a sign of the intruder, he made a break for his car.

  He climbed behind the wheel of his SUV, a large blue Jeep Commander, and cranked the engine. As soon as he did, the screen door was just about knocked off its hinges as his heavily armed assailant came out of the screen porch and fired shots at the vehicle. Holes riddled the windshield, but Brady was already ducking as he slammed the transmission into Drive and sped away from his house and up his winding driveway that lead out of t
he valley. The Arbiter did not give chase because he had parked his vehicle further away in order to catch his target by surprise by sneaking in on foot. He had a feeling Brady would have alarms set up around the property, but he had no idea they would be so hard to detect. He was just going to have to catch up to his target later. As he saw the tail lights of Brady’s SUV pull off in the distance, the Arbiter scanned his surroundings. He decided since he had full access to Brady’s property, he would take a closer look around.

  The Arbiter was already outside, so he walked around the house, and he was finally able to spot several booby traps and alarms that had been rigged by Brady. He then noticed a small wooden shed, and he walked over to the large door in the front that had a padlock hanging through the latch, unlocked. He realized that the activist, Mr. Brady, had been in that shed most recently, and had left the door hanging slightly open. He must have grabbed things in a hurry, which meant there might still be things of importance in the shed. He pulled the door open and stepped into a small work area. Brady had left in such a rush he left the light on in the shed. The Arbiter looked around at Brady’s work area. He saw empty gun magazines; small brass casings scattered about on the floor near a reloading machine; long arrows that looked to either be arrows for a professional archer, or possibly even large crossbow bolts. He also saw an assortment of tools spread out in organized fashion hanging in holes on the wall behind the work bench. Several hooks were empty – probably some important tools that Brady had grabbed before his escape.

  The Marine Recon government ‘fixer’ had seen enough of the work shed; there was nothing else of note for him in there. He walked back outside and saw a larger building with a flat roof. He knew it wasn’t quite large enough to be a guest residence, but the building was large enough to contain an office or two. He walked over to a black door on the long side of the building. He tried to turn the doorknob and found it to be unlocked. He pushed his way in, and immediately felt the difference in temperature between the interior and outside. The inside was hot and humid – almost like being in a jungle. As he crossed the threshold, a motion sensor made the lights turn on and illuminate a long room full of shelves containing large plastic crates and large glass tanks. As he made his way down the row of shelves, he came upon the first glass tank. As soon as his face passed the front of the tank, he heard the unmistakable sound of a small rattle. He peered in and saw one of the largest Eastern Diamondback Rattlesnakes he had ever seen. The next glass tank contained a long, slender serpent, smoke-gray in color, with a small head and large black eyes. When the snake struck at the glass as the Marine waved his hand in front of it, it displayed the inside of its mouth; a deep, bluish black color that gave the Black Mamba its name. The Arbiter had heard from Director Marks that the Jesus Assassin, a.k.a. Robert Brady, had used snake venom to kill his targets. He could only assume that either one of these two snakes could have been the culprits the assassin used to extract venom. He also assumed that the other large boxes and crates in the room contained more venomous snakes. He would have to remember how dangerous and resourceful Brady was when he confronted him; he very well could face some kind of weapon of Brady’s that puts the venom to use.

  After seeing what he wanted to inside the reptile house, the Arbiter went back to the cabin. He walked through the quaint but somewhat spacious cabin and wondered room to room, carefully observing family pictures and newspaper clippings that had been framed and placed on various walls in the house. It was obvious that Brady loved his family. There were photos of various sizes throughout the house; some containing pictures with his wife and daughter; some with just his wife; some of just his daughter. He was hoping to find a photo containing Brady himself, but he was coming up short. He eventually came to the living room, and saw a silver TV, sitting in an entertainment center that was pretty bare – with the exception of a DVD that was simply marked ‘My Reasons’. Having piqued his interest, the Arbiter turned on the TV and put in the DVD. It was a grainy video, but the Arbiter could definitely tell what was going on. The speaker in the video was your stereotypical terrorist, rambling along about America, and Allah. Then the camera panned to two females strapped down into chairs. The Arbiter immediately recognized the wife and daughter of Robert Brady – two people with very beautiful faces; the mother with her big blue eyes, and the little daughter with her bright green eyes. The Arbiter realized the terrorist was back in the picture, rambling on some more with his anti-American rhetoric. Then the scene included both the girls again, and the terrorist was handed two scimitars. Suddenly the terrorist in the video swung the scimitars down through the air and made a sweeping arc to abruptly end the lives of Brady’s little family. Even the Arbiter flinched at the gruesome sight, and immediately turned off the TV. He had seen enough.

  He shook the images away and walked into the study. He was looking for something to help identify the assassin; the Arbiter had an idea that might help him catch up to the Jesus Assassin quicker. He had just about given up, when he saw several old military photos scattered about on the floor in the corner of the room. He walked over and ran his hand through the pile. He found several pictures of different soldiers posing together, but Brady had to be the redhead standing in almost all of the photos. They were definitely photos of a younger Robert Brady, back when he was a SEAL. The Arbiter picked up a picture that had Brady posing all by himself, standing next to a patch of bamboo trees. He had a full head of red hair, a full beard that he obviously kept trimmed close, and bright green eyes that were almost cartoon-like. The Arbiter gathered up a couple of the pictures. Although he wanted to erase the images of Brady’s family from his thoughts, he couldn’t help but understand why Brady was doing what he was doing. He headed out the door and took the photos with him. He had a feeling they would come in handy later. He happened not to notice the small leather-bound journal sitting on the desk as he left the cabin.

  28

  Detroit, Michigan

  Agent White’s House

  Agent Knox stood at Beth’s front door, waiting for her to come in response to the doorbell. He held a bouquet of red roses behind his back. Beth came to the door and gave herself a look-over and patted her clothes down as if to fix herself up one last time before letting Knox see her. She opened the door and smiled. She was wearing a perfume that smelled like a combination between mountain flowers and vanilla sky; Knox couldn’t quite decide which one.

  He returned the smile, then swung the bouquet of roses around from his back and said, “I picked these up on the way…couldn’t help but think you needed to know I can be romantic every now and then.”

  Beth’s eyes lit up, and she planted a short, wet kiss on his lips.

  She took the roses from him, and as she did, she said kindly, “Thank you so much, John. Let me go run and put these in a vase with some water – then we can go.”

  Knox just waited out on the front porch with the front door left open, and heard Beth moving around the house near the kitchen, opening and closing cabinet doors, and running some water to fill up a vase. She rushed back out front, and pulled the door closed behind them. She hit some buttons on her cell phone and her door automatically locked.

  “New alarm system?” Knox asked.

  Beth nodded and answered, “A girl can’t be too careful these days. So, where is my knight in shining armor taking me for a romantic dinner this fine evening?”

  “Well, you know I don’t cook…but I know good Italian when I taste it. We’re going to this new place over on Elsie St. It’s called Cardone’s, and I swear they have the best calzones and fried lasagna in the world.”

  Beth was getting hungry, and she was glad that she and her man both loved Italian food.

  They rode to dinner in Knox’s big cherry red pickup truck. Knox tried to play the part of a gentleman, opening Beth’s door for her both when they left her house and when they arrived at the restaurant. The place wasn’t crowded because the usual dinner crowd had already left. Knox and Beth both ord
ered fried lasagna, and Knox added an order of Italian potato soup. The conversation was kept light, and the two agents just enjoyed one another’s company. They had both decided before Knox came to pick Beth up that they would not talk about work; conversation about the Jesus Assassin was strictly off-limits. Instead, Knox asked Beth about her likes and dislikes, and she asked him about his family, and his days at the University of Alabama. Finally the talking became a little more serious.

  “Honey, I’ve been thinking…about our special night back in New York,” Knox began.

  Beth grinned at him and replied, “Funny you should mention that. I was feeling – well – guilty about it. I mean it was my fault, John. I know what a weapon seduction can be, and let’s face it; I seduced you that night.”

  Knox nodded with a blush, “Well, that you did. But that’s not what I am getting at. I don’t want you to feel bad or guilty. I just want you to think about the meaning. I’ve been pouring my heart and soul out to you about my spiritual life, and trying to tell you why I try to walk a straight and narrow life. And then as your mentor I go and sleep with you! I am the guilty one here, Beth. I guess what I’m getting at is – did it mean enough to you, that if we didn’t do it anymore for quite a while…say, ‘til we’re married…would it be okay?”