Alex’s ears turned red from the evoked memory. “That isn’t the same.”
“Why not?”
“Stealing money is not like torturing people,” replied the prophet.
“But would you say the child should be punished?”
“Yes,” answered Alex. “Children have to learn that stealing is wrong.”
“If a sixteen-year-old boy is pulled over too many times for speeding, should his parents intervene with a punishment—grounding him, for instance?”
Again, Alex remembered an incident that made the analogy more vivid. He could almost hear what his parents had said to him. “If he doesn’t learn to obey traffic laws, he could hurt himself or die,” Alex replied with a grin. “It’s out of love for the child that his parents punish him.”
“Perhaps, the parents believe that the boy will never learn to drive within the confines of the law,” the voice added, “and, instead of grounding him, they take away the license for good. Maybe, they feel that he is a danger to not only himself, but others on the road.”
“How would he ever get the chance to prove himself if they never gave him the opportunity?” Alex asked. “How could he show that he’d learned his lesson?”
“So you do understand. Punishment should never be used as an end, Alex. Punishment is a means for learning. Punishment should be only implemented out of love. How could Jeremiah learn if I punish him in another life? How could he ever make amends? How could he be better the next time around?”
“Well, what about the demons in Hell? Is there hope for them to learn from their mistakes?”
“Hell is different, Son; it isn’t a punishment. When you struggled in your early education, and your parents held you back a grade to make you better equipped to move forward, did you think that was a punishment?”
He considered this. “I think I resented them for it, for watching my friends move on without me. At the time, I might have thought of it as a punishment.”
“And now?”
“No,” Alex answered confidently. “I think they were probably right, that I wasn’t ready.”
“If the fallen view Hell as a punishment, it’s because they torment themselves. I have an open-door policy. When and if they stop punishing themselves, I will accept them back with all the love I give anyone else. But they simply cannot see beyond the pain of the moment. If they want to serve me, they must have faith. Faith is what keeps an angel from falling. Faith is what keeps a fallen angel from plummeting all the way through to Hell. And faith is what can help a fallen angel ascend.”
“So it doesn’t matter if they do something wrong, as long as they have faith?” Alex asked. “What about those they hurt along the way?”
“Those who have faith in me don’t hurt other people.”
“But Jeremiah did,” insisted the prophet, “and Metatron still does.”
“Faith in me necessitates faith in my ways. Love is a tenet behind everything that I do. When Jeremiah hurt people, it was because he hated them. Hope is also a tenet behind everything that I do. When Jeremiah hurt those people, it was because he had lost his hope. He did not have faith that my ways were the best, so he made mistakes.”
“And you’re just going to forgive him?”
“You would prefer me to be a vengeful God?”
“There are just some things that are unforgivable,” Alex stated.
“I have yet to find those things,” his father replied.
“It doesn’t seem right that he should be allowed back into Heaven.”
“I assure you, Alex, that he will not return to Heaven before he learns his lesson.”
“He may have learned his lesson now,” contended the prophet, “but that does not excuse his actions.”
“There is no need to excuse his actions.”
“They were wrong,” argued Alex.
“They were,” the voice agreed, “and excusing them will neither make them right nor change the acts. However, humanity would seem to disagree. To you, excusing a mistake means that it is accepted as correct or simply accepted. It makes you feel better, more comfortable. In reality, an action is either right, or it is wrong. I would never call a wrong action right.”
“But you will forgive it.”
“Yes,” the voice replied, “I will.”
“The heinous things he did should keep him out of Heaven forever.”
“Then, we are back to punishment as an end,” the voice calmly reminded the prophet. “I realize that it defies what you believe to be just. You think that punishment should be meted out to fit the crime. But I love everything I have made so much that I can’t bear to hurt them, unless I know that they will grow from the experience and be better for it. Jeremiah would not grow from what you suggest, just like you would not have grown from never being allowed to drive again. Hell was not designed to be eternal. No purpose would be served by that. Only Heaven is eternal.”
“But you did make Hell,” said Alex.
“I did,” the voice agreed, “and the demons shaped it into what it is.”
“I don’t know if I can forgive him.”
“I’m not telling you what to do,” the voice answered, “only what I do. Sleep on it; you have some time to decide.”
Alex nodded and lay down on the bed. His eyes closed, and he fell into a very deep sleep.
***
“Who’s he talking to?” Higgins asked, as he and Matt watched the security footage closely.
Matt smiled. “God. Okay, I think I’m convinced.” He walked away from the screen, but Higgins remained stationary. “C’mon, Higgins,” Matt said.
“With all due respect, sir,” Higgins replied, “I’m not sure I trust him, yet.”
“Take my word for it, Higgins. I know him better than anyone else here. He’s all right.”
“If you say so.” Higgins looked a little while longer at the screen, and then apprehensively turned away. “But he could just be faking it because he knows we’re watching.”
“If he isn’t, and he really did defeat Metatron, I don’t want to piss him off,” Matt countered.
“Good point,” Higgins conceded, though still a little skeptical. “What do we do now?”
“We wait until Abbie gets back. Then, we decide what we can and should do for Jeremiah. Though, I’m not convinced that there’s much we can do.”
“Dylan’s on the phone,” Elizabeth informed him as she walked into the security headquarters. “What should I tell him?”
“Did you tell him what has happened so far?” Matt asked.
“Yes,” she said, “but we’re not in any better position than we were in before he left.”
Matt thought for a moment and replied, “Well, I’m going after Jeremiah. He said he would have done the same for any of us, and I believe him.”
“So do I tell him to meet us there?”
Matt shook his head. “Us? Uh-uh. You aren’t going.”
“Bullshit. We’ve already been over this. You aren’t going to Vienna by yourself.”
“I agree,” said Higgins.
“I can’t authorize a rescue mission without Abbie’s consent,” Matt said. “I’m not going to be responsible for everyone’s lives. Tell Dylan to wait.”
“She already consented to one for Alex,” Liz reminded him. “I don’t think that much has changed, just who has been captured. We knew that we might have to rescue both Alex and Jeremiah; now we just have to rescue Jeremiah. It almost seems easier than what we had predicted.”
“Then, did Dylan make contact?” Matt asked, remembering what the mission was.
“Oh, yeah,” Liz said.
“I suppose it went well...”
“If ‘well’ is the word you want to use.”
“Okay,” said Matt, finally. “Tell him to give us an hour. Abbie should be back by then, and we can discuss our strategy.”
Elizabeth nodded and walked out the door.
***
Lao Shi tried not to think about the lux
ury of first-class that he was afforded on his trip back to Las Vegas and how it differed from the mundaneness of coach as he reflected on the last twelve hours. He was grateful that he could persuade the council of lamas that the choice was a good one. They had debated for hours. Many of them did not want to accept the wisdom of the young Panchen Lama. They said that they could not accept that the incarnation of the Buddha of Compassion would be found in the United States. They said that the boy was too old. But Lao Shi would not be dissuaded. The decision was finalized, and Lao Shi was assured that the process of training the new Dalai Lama would begin immediately. He had ordered them to keep the identity a secret for a while, for the boy’s own safety.
Lao Shi was relieved that the council did not fight him anymore than they did. His dreams of late had been very disturbing. The choice had to be made and accepted in a timely fashion, for the sake of the Buddhist way of life. Time was drawing short, and he had to be getting back to Las Vegas, for everyone’s way of life was in danger.
Chapter 2
Alex came back from Vienna a different person. Jeremiah told me once that the change reminded him of one that Jesus underwent after his first conversation with God. Alex was taken from his home as a child, where he relied on his parents for nurturing and guidance. After spending a few months in the company of prophets and demons, he found that he had a gift in nurturing and guiding us. Nevertheless, the boy was no longer a boy. He was colder and a little sadder. Within weeks, it was obvious that he bore a terrible weight that he had no intention of seeking help for. Though, in the history of wars, our war was rather mild—in terms of death, each casualty affected Alex. That kind of pain never goes away.
--Abigail Martin, Through the Eyes of a Martyr
Metatron looked at his watch. He had been pacing back and forth in his library, waiting for a message of surrender from the dungeon. Jeremiah must have known that there was no possibility of victory at this point. Metatron never planned to let the prophets live, but they were the only bargaining chip he had against a demon who was content to die for his cause. A part of him really hoped that he could leave Jeremiah’s cohorts alone, but the reality of the situation was that they would never stop fighting him, and he couldn’t afford to contend with them and Lucifer at the same time. Apparently, the lie concerning Alex’s death had touched Jeremiah very deeply. Was it anger, confusion, denial, or depression that consumed Jeremiah’s thoughts now?
Sadly, it no longer mattered. Metatron had waited a long time to accomplish many things, but this was an instance in which he could not afford to tarry.
“Time’s up, Jeremiah,” he said to no one in particular. He pulled out a cell phone and dialed a number. After a few rings, he said only two words: “Do it.”
***
An explosion took out the front gate at Jeremiah’s mansion. There were no screams or gunfire. The four demons looked at each other in bewilderment. They’d expected a host of men to come pouring out of the demolished gate. But there was no sign of forthcoming retaliation.
“It’s a trap, Zagan,” one of the demons warned.
“What difference does it make?” Zagan asked. “The four of us should be able to capture four children.”
“Children?” Abbie inquired as she walked through the remains of the front gate. “There are no children here.” She held up her hand, and the one talking to Zagan fell to the ground, screaming.
“You die now, prophet,” Zagan said, smiling.
His head exploded into a red mist, and his body fell, revealing a gruff old man in ragged clothes standing behind him, holding a bloody mace in one hand and a jagged dagger in the other. The dagger was quickly plunged into another demon’s head. The final demon transformed into a monstrous creature with red scales, long talons, and a barbed tail. Garrett looked amused.
The tail came soaring at Garrett. The demon hunter’s hands were a blur. He dropped his mace, grabbed the tail as it whistled through the air at him, and sliced it off with the blade. The demon wailed from the pain, turned, and ran.
“Stop,” Abbie commanded, and the demon obeyed.
Garrett landed on top of the demon, knocking it to the ground. With both hands firmly positioned on either side of monstrosity’s head, the hunter twisted and pulled. A moment later, he dropped the detached head with mild satisfaction.
“I guess you should be going, now,” Abbie said, heavily.
Garrett nodded and retrieved the shard from the sword of Lucifer. “This is yours,” he told Abbie.
“No. You should keep it for a little while. I think you’re going to need it.”
Garrett said nothing. He picked up his mace, and, with a weapon in each hand, he disappeared.
Higgins and Marla walked out of the gate moments later. Abbie was still standing over the bodies of the demons. The two mortals looked at each other, at the bodies, and then at the Elder Prophet.
“I have a very bad feeling about this,” Abbie confessed.
***
Jeremiah sat on a cold iron bench in a cavernous dungeon. Surrounding him were six demons. He knew them all. He had commanded three of them during the Crusades. He could have been devising a way to kill them, but there would just be more. And what was the point? Alex had been killed. He could try to find another prophet like him, but Metatron would just kill that one too. So he waited. He waited for the next time that Metatron came to talk to him. When that time came, one or both of them would die. He was drawn out of his meditation by the faint sound of four explosions that probably hit the side of Metatron’s castle. It was then that he remembered that there had been a rescue operation planned.
He sighed. The prophets had not heard from him, so they assumed the worst, and they were right. Now, everyone he cared for was probably outside, fighting a battle they could not possibly win. He toyed with the idea of torching the six demons standing around him, who had been distracted by the explosions. He knew they were thinking about what they should do. Should they see if their help is needed or stay to guard him? Two more explosions shook dust down onto Jeremiah’s head.
One of the demons, Imamiah, pointed to the three youngest. “You three go. We’ll stay and see that Jeremiah doesn’t escape.”
Those three nodded and left. Jeremiah smiled inwardly. He might be able to kill the remaining demons. Then, he would find Metatron.
Imamiah turned to Jeremiah. “Don’t do anything stupid. You were a good general, and you can be one again, but those upstarts of yours must die. When this is all over, I will fight for you, but not against Metatron.”
Jeremiah was about to respond, when something happened that left him speechless. Alex appeared and was standing between two of the remaining demons. He touched one on the arm, startling it.
“Sleep,” Alex commanded, and the demon fell to the ground.
Another demon pointed a gun at the prophet, but when Jeremiah sent the bench he had been sitting on flying into him, the gun fired, harmlessly, off to the side. Jeremiah wasted no time; he burst into flame and tackled Imamiah. The demon struggled, in vain, to get out from underneath the pillar of fire. Punch after punch rained down onto Imamiah’s skull, until nothing was left of it. Jeremiah stood and picked up the gun by Imamiah’s side. He unloaded it into the demon he had hit with the bench. It wasn’t killed by the barrage, but it was stunned. Jeremiah lifted his hands into the air. Then, all three of the fallen angels who had been left to guard the seemingly innocuous Jeremiah simultaneously caught on fire.
Jeremiah extinguished. “Alex! You’re alive.”
“Yes, I am, Jeremiah,” agreed Alex, sullenly. “Now, we need to get out of here because I’m not sure how long our distraction will last.”
***
“Fire,” Matt commanded.
Ten sniper rifles opened fire in succession. Men on top of Metatron’s castle, along with men standing at the bottom fell.
“Begin phase two,” ordered Matt.
One hundred fifty of Matt’s best trained men ran toward the castle
. After six carefully placed shots from RPGs and the sniper shots that were continually picking off anyone within eyesight, the castle was already beginning to look like a battle zone. Elizabeth was close by in a van that was loaded with various forms of jamming technology.
It was necessary to keep Metatron from calling in any more help than he already had. However, that meant that Matt could not communicate with his men, so he hoped that the orders he had already given would be sufficient. The goal was not to take over the castle; that would be nearly impossible. They were only to create a diversion so Alex and Jeremiah could escape.
“I guess we should be getting up there,” Matt told Dylan, Lao Shi, and Garrett. He looked at the contingent of mercenaries who still stood there. “You need to stay here and protect the van. It can’t fall. If other demons in the vicinity or the Austrian government learn of what we’re doing, we’re doomed. And the armored cars,” Matt added, motioning to the fleet they had arrived in, “are our means of escape. They must be protected too.”
“Understood,” the commander of that force replied. “We’ll guard it all.”
“The demons are coming out,” Garrett grunted.
“Right,” Matt said, returning his attention to the castle. “Phase three.”
***
Metatron laughed at the display. They had sacrificed everything to save Jeremiah. There was no way that these children could assail this castle, not with any amount of technology, not with any number of human mercenaries, not with the best weapons, and not with a handful of young prophets. It was suicide, and it saved him the effort of hunting down Jeremiah’s students. Metatron knew that his war against Jeremiah would soon be over.
“Kill them all,” Metatron commanded Ose, his highest-ranking demon. “At this point, I don’t need any more prisoners. I will join the battle momentarily. Right now, I need to tie up some loose ends.”
The Elder Prophets (To Absolve the Fallen Book 2) Page 3
