Misguided: The Jesus Assassin

by Jason E. Fort

  After hearing the words ‘submit’ and ‘Allah’ too many times in one sentence, Brady had determined that it was now or never. He shimmied his way out over the cross support over the imam’s head. He hoisted himself up where he was supporting all his weight on his forearms as he peered down below to make sure he was lined up with his target. Just as he heard someone shriek up at him, as if he were about to attack them, the man dressed in black dropped down upon the Imam’s shoulders. The 240 pound assassin made the 190 pound bean pole (Ahkmed was 6 feet, 6 inches tall) collapse like a house of cards. Although he knew his descent probably broke several of the imam’s bones, he withdrew a syringe from one of his inner pockets and planted the needle right into the man’s neck.

  He leaned in close to the imam’s ear, and whispered “How’s this for Allah’s will?”

  He pressed the plunger all the way in, and then dropped the Imam’s head like a sack of potatoes. He observed the short gasps for breath as the fast-acting snake venom raced straight to the brain. He took out a gold cross, and flung it on the floor next to the Imam. He had no time to waste, and he ran towards the back of the stage. The front side of the stage sounded like pandemonium, but several of the crowd knew the assassin was the famed Jesus Assassin who had killed so many imams already. He already had people running up to the stage as he jumped over some equipment and then pushed it down behind him as he began his escape.

  Although Brady knew he had to evade the on-coming crowd of outraged Muslims in order to complete his mission, he let rage drive him forward. Just the mere thought of Islamic terrorists and the harm they had brought to his entire family made him keep pumping his arms and legs. As he used his arms to boost himself over the wall before climbing the rear steps of the stadium to the top of the bowl, a crazed follower of the Imam grabbed at his ankle. He ruthlessly kicked the guy between the teeth as hard as he could, seeing the instant gap in the top row of teeth as he fell back down to the field. The assassin reached the steps in between rows of seats, and began the fastest stadium run ever. There were loyal Muslims true to Allah’s cause who were banking in on him as they had cut across the rows of seats. Brady batted one away with an elbow to the forehead. He jumped and kneed one would-be attacker up under the chin, ending his state of consciousness. Brady started to take three, sometimes four steps at a time, and he kept running. The crowd kept coming as well. As Brady reached the top row, he made a turn into a crowd of six robed men by planting two hands down on the top of the chair and then swinging his legs around in a circular whirlwind of motion, as if he were an Olympic gymnast. Four more men discovered what it felt like to get knocked out, and the other two lost their desire to catch this mad man known as the Jesus Assassin. Brady found open space and made a run for it. Although he got quite the head-start on the crowd watching the stage, just the large number of spectators was sweeping him into corners of the top deck, and he knew he needed to exit the stadium before he was trapped and pummeled by the mob.

  Brady saw his way out as he approached the fence where tickets were usually collected on game day. He boosted himself up and scaled the fence like a ninja, and the on-coming crowd hit the fence and almost came to a dead-stop. That gave the assassin the momentum he needed to run to the parking lot. By this point, campus security had heard about the commotion, and a small golf cart with headlights began bearing down on Brady’s position as he cut through the large parking lot. He split down one row, ducked down and rolled under a pickup truck, and temporarily lost the security officers. He got back up and took off down the same row on top of vehicles; he could see where he parked his Jeep Commander. The security officers made a sudden U-turn in the golf cart, almost flipping in the process. Brady found his Jeep at the last second, jumped in, and fired that puppy up. Just as the golf cart pulled up next to his Jeep, Brady swung the Jeep into reverse in a wide arc, punched the gas pedal to the floor, and left the guys in the golf cart wondering if anyone ever caught that license plate.

  37

  Langley, Virginia

  Outside CIA Headquarters

  Malik told Knox as he stood outside the front doors of the CIA headquarters, “Let me try my contact I made the last time I was here. He worked just down the hall from Brady; he probably doesn’t even know it’s Brady.”

  Malik dialed up the phone number that Agent Rutter had given him the last time.

  “Rutter here. Who’s speaking?”

  Malik re-introduced himself, and Agent Rutter acknowledged him, “Oh yes, Malik...good to hear from you again. What can I help you with today?”

  “Well, I’m outside with two other agents and we wanted to talk to you in person; ask you some more questions about someone that works on your hall.”

  Rutter told him to check in with the security personnel, and he would have three scan cards made for them. The agents all scanned into the building, and then scanned their cards again to get on the elevator. Knox and White just followed Malik; this was his show since he had been here before. Once they arrived on the fourth floor, Malik immediately turned to the right and walked confidently down the hall, like a man on a mission. Instead of turning around the corner to the left and going to Rutter’s office, Malik made a bee-line to the office at the corner of 4B and 4C. He walked straight up to the door, turned the knob, and walked right in. He came right back out, then headed right to Rutter’s office. Knox was following behind, with Beth on his heels.

  “What gives, Malik?”

  Malik ignored his cohort for a moment and immediately addressed Agent Rutter with some concern.

  “The man who was in that office last time I was here…where is he?”

  Rutter shrugged, and replied, “You mean Maxwell? He transferred to a different department. That’s all I was told. One day he was here; next day – he and his things were gone.”

  Malik looked over at Knox and explained, “He was here when I was, Knox. He was in that office, and he and those deep green eyes – he looked right at me. Son of a…I could have had him.”

  Rutter jumped in, “Excuse me…could’ve had who? Maxwell? He was in logistics, just like me. He worked for me, or under me anyway. What’d you need with Maxwell?”

  Malik finished, “Agent Rutter – I know you said you never saw him, so you wouldn’t know…but his name wasn’t Maxwell. That was Robert Brady, and he’s our assassin.”

  Rutter took a moment to digest the information.

  In the meantime, the agents all walked back to the old office previously occupied by ‘Maxwell’. The office was so clean and bare, the three of them could have sat down and eaten a meal off the floor. There was no trace of the previous occupant. Malik pointed out that he had at least noticed a large Bible sitting on the corner of the desk before Brady had gotten up to close the door that day. Knox shook his head and bit his upper lip.

  Beth knew that perplexed look.

  He didn’t worry often, and Beth was one of the few that could tell when he was worried.

  She asked, “What’s wrong?”

  Knox responded, “Somebody bigger than the FBI doesn’t want us finding this Brady character. If I were a betting man, I’d say they already have someone trying to take care of him as we speak.”

  Just then, his cell phone buzzed. Coincidentally, so did Malik’s. They looked at each other strangely as both of them answered to the glorious sound of upset supervisors.

  McCoy asked as soon as Knox said ‘Hello’.

  “Agent Knox…have you been watching the news? Have you been checking your e-mails? Better yet, have you climbed out from under that rock you and your cronies have been hiding under?!” the SAC finished erupting.

  Knox tried to add with a calming effect, “It’s Robert Brady, sir. We know it’s him. We have evidence that proves it’s him. That’s where we’ve been sir. We found his family cabin. We found the snakes. We found everything sir…except him.”

  The SAC seemed to be absorbing the information slowly on his end of the line. Finally h
e sounded more relaxed, but still concerned.

  “So that’s why you weren’t at the crime scenes of the small town assassinations?”

  Knox nodded and answered, “Affirmative, sir. We’ve kept abreast of media information, but we got a clue sent to us by an undisclosed informer.”

  McCoy fired back, “Undisclosed informer? Is this guy working with someone else? Why would someone want to help you catch this guy, but not identify themselves?”

  Knox thought for a minute. “Sir – there’s more. Malik had seen Brady the last time when he was here…back when White and I went to Fort Benning. He was posing as some analyst. Well, now his office is cleared out and he has vanished without a trace. Sir, I think this is bigger than you and me.”

  The SAC took a second or two to take this new info under consideration.

  “Nevertheless, follow the course he’s on, John. Catch this guy…put a stop to him. You probably missed this last assassination; being as busy as you guys have been. You near a TV?”

  Knox asked Rutter if there was a TV nearby, and he motioned the team to his office.

  Meanwhile, Malik walked and talked with his boss. The Chief, Holcroft, stated plainly, “Sharif – what is the meaning of this? Your killer is running amok in the US!”

  Malik tried to reassure his Chief Inspector.

  “Sir, we almost have him pinned down. We know his identity. His name is Robert Brady”-Holcroft cut him off in a thick German accent.

  “I don’t care if he’s Mickey Mouse – Catch him before he kills again!”

  Holcroft once again hung up abruptly, leaving Malik worried about being taken off the case if they didn’t catch this guy soon.

  He paid attention to his team, and they were all looking up at the TV screen in Rutter’s office. The headline that rolled across the bottom of the screen said it all: JESUS ASSASSIN KILLS IN FRONT OF THOUSANDS ON TV BROADCAST. Those words kept scrolling across the screen underneath some disturbing footage of what looked like some modern-day ninja storming through a crowd of people, injuring them as he went. The scene then cut back to the video clip that caused the headline. The television showed the same black figure drop from the scaffolding that held up the stage lights, right onto the Imam standing below him. It also showed the man bend down and inject something into the Imam’s neck…and then again jumped to the scene of panic in the football stands. The investigators all stood there staring at the screen, when Beth finally spoke up.

  “So that’s in Durham, North Carolina…right?”

  Knox nodded at the screen. Beth continued, “I know Virginia pretty well; as well as North Carolina. He is following the Interstate 95/85 corridor. If we can look at a map, or even the internet – maybe we can guess the next large Muslim site in his path.”

  Malik snapped his fingers and added, “You’ve got it. I’ve got a road atlas in the car.”

  With that, the agents left Agent Rutter standing there, dumbfounded and asking himself what just happened.

  Before they rounded the corner, Malik yelled back to Rutter, “Sorry – almost forgot. Thank you for all your help, Rutter. You helped more than you know.”

  The team left and went to the SUV. Beth opened the road atlas, and the next major city in the path was Greensboro. Knox googled the city, and specified the search to Muslim mosques in Greensboro. Once several choices popped up on the screen, Knox and Malik perused the images and words for each location. Finally, Knox pointed at one in particular, and Malik nodded; if they were trained killers of imams, that’s where they’d go. It was time to find the Jesus Assassin.

  38

  Greensboro, North Carolina

  Islamic Mosque of Greensboro

  Brady put the Jeep Commander in park, with its beat up fenders and a windshield riddled with bullet holes. It was about ten in the morning, and he found a hidden alcove of trees along a gravel path not far from the mosque he intended to stake out. Brady knew whoever the Activity had sent after him was well behind him by now, so he had time to prepare. He parked just far enough away from the main roads to remain inconspicuous. He decided that he would stalk and hunt down the next imam at the mosque nearby, just outside a heavily populated part of the city of Greensboro. He knew the place and area would be new to him, so he would observe the coming and going of the various people at the mosque throughout the day. Brady was a master at finding a place to hide, in almost any conditions and environment. He would treat this like any other mission – like he was trained to do. He felt like a novelist who was almost finished with a story; the end of his mission was within sight…and he could hardly contain himself due to his excitement. It would be rewarding to possibly help bring about Christ’s return by putting all these cogs in motion for the Lord. Brady had considered himself God’s tool. The way he saw it, God used his mission objectives to bring more spiritual unrest between God’s people and the rest of the world. If he could get the rest of the ungodly world angry at Christianity, Jesus would have to come back in order to save His people one last time. Brady also thought about the reward that mattered most to him, personally. Brady just knew that a merciful God would allow him to see his wife and daughter, and parents again – despite the sinful actions he had been forced to take along the way.

  Brady crept through the trees that lined a frontage road to a minor highway. He looked at the GPS on his cell phone, and could see that he would have to make his way around a sewage treatment plant to get to his objective. He used the satellite picture application on his phone to zoom in on the layout of both the property of the mosque and the plant, and carefully visualized the path he needed to take as he lightly touched the screen. He saw on the map a thin trail that cut a path between the properties through another copse of trees. He got his bearings and headed in that direction, finding the trail about two minutes later. Brady was getting closer to more civilization; he could hear the traffic from a nearby convergence of main thoroughfares into and out of Greensboro. He was getting close.

  As he came to a clearing at the end of the trees, there it was; the Islamic Mosque of Greensboro. It didn’t look like the typical mosques you see and read about in the Middle East – but it wasn’t exactly small. It was built in similar fashion to an American elementary school from the 1980’s. It was a large, spread out, one level complex - but with obvious high ceilings inside. Brady looked to the other side of the parking lot and saw that the Mosque was about to grow. He wasn’t sure what was under construction until he noticed a construction company’s large white sign, showing a depiction of the completed project and labeling it COMING SOON: MUSLIM SCHOOL OF GREENSBORO. There were several buildings and structures of two to three stories, with some structures more complete than others. What a great place to hide….once the construction workers had left for the day.

  Brady ran to a corner of the building, and saw two large air units that would keep him concealed during the day, provided nobody needed to mess with the air conditioning that day. He looked around and saw a few cars pulling into the distant entrance to the parking lot. They must be coming for the Midday prayer. He waited until the cars parked and were facing away from him, and made a mad dash for the large air units. Once again, Brady would play his waiting game. Snipers had been practicing this for decades now…finding a hide, and waiting for their target to reveal themselves; sometimes waiting days at a time. Brady had no intention of sniping this imam, though. He would wait for the moment to strike when he was alone and vulnerable. Now he would become a people watcher…and wait.

  Malik pulled into the parking lot of the mosque. The International Mosque of Southern Muslims was not expecting a visit from the FBI today, but Knox figured it was as good a place to start as any. They were just past downtown Greensboro, and this mosque was the one they found on the internet that was in the most direct path down Interstate 85.

  Knox spoke to the group.

  “Okay gang, I contacted all the local authorities, and I also have North Carolina’s FBI office in with us.
They are putting out extra patrols on all 15 public Islamic sites in a 30 mile square radius of Greensboro. I thought that would raise our probability of finding Brady. What we’ll do here, and every location we come to, is separate and spread out and search for any signs of Brady, and speak to anyone we encounter along the way that thinks they saw anything suspicious. We’ve been grasping at straws, guys…but Beth’s hunches have gotten us further in this investigation than anything else.”

  Beth slapped Knox on the back from the back seat, “Aw – that’s a sweet thing to say.”

  Malik offered, “Um, hello? It’s true. Beth, you’ve been the brains of this operation from the start. May I just say, I am honored to have worked with both of you on this.”

  With that, he abruptly exited the SUV and walked towards the mosque itself. Beth pulled Knox back in his seat from behind with one hand and planted a quick kiss on his lips.

  “That really is sweet. But you guys have contributed just as much. Now – let’s find this whacko.”

  She opened her door, and started heading to the far side of the complex and began a walk around the perimeter of the building. Knox decided he would monitor the parking lot.

  While waiting, he couldn’t help but ask himself, ‘Is this assassin really whacko? Is he really that different than me? If I lost everyone I loved, my temper would send me after the killers for sure. If that lead me into a crusade against an anti-Christian religion, so be it. No,’ he decided.

  ‘He’s not crazy. He’s just as misguided as all of us.’

  He decided that he was going to approach this assassin with caution, but also understanding. That little video at the cabin had more of an impact on him than he thought. Of course, to approach the assassin, they would have to catch him first. Little did he know that this would be the first of a few stops that day where they would come up empty-handed. He didn’t know what the day had in store for them. He also didn’t know that they were being watched.