No, her attention was captured by the two that sat in the front row, holding hands, like a happily in love couple. She actually knew what that felt like, for the first time in her life. It was going to make what she was about to do all the more sweet.
Regardless of what Pemberton had paid her for, she had her own agenda. Yes, she would take out Walker. And seeing him come back from the dead, she wanted to kill Grant as well. That one was just going to be for pride. She couldn’t say she actually assassinated the president if he were standing here, now, resuming his office. Now could she?
But her main focus was on Jon Keene and Megan Taylor. Those two had been the bane of her existence for too long. This ended tonight. Only one of them was going to walk out of here alive. She swore to that. And she fully intended it be her.
She reached up under the seat to feel the Tech-9 taped to the bottom of the seat. She reached inside her coat pocket and felt the Glock resting against her side. Finally, she bent over and ran her hand over her ankle, where the PK380 rested. Everything was set to go. Now all she had to do was give Farid the signal.
She was about to move when the Prophet took the podium again. He called for Nolan to stand, but Nolan refused. She was almost jarred out of her seat when the Prophet yelled back at Nolan. She eased up for a moment. Her curiosity had gotten the better of her. She wanted to see where this went.
Suddenly, the Prophet said something about some old guy from the Bible and Nolan, Pemberton, and Irving all dropped to the ground. She could tell right away. They were dead. Immediately, the entire place burst into a panic. This was the moment she had waited for. She caught Farid’s attention and gave him the signal.
Keene couldn’t believe what he’d just seen. He jumped up from his seat and checked Nolan’s pulse. Nothing. He looked to Quinn who just nodded to him, as if to say, What’s done is done.
Immediately, though, the room was stirred. People were gasping and pointing. Some cries were heard, as well as some shrieks and shouting. Just when Keene thought it couldn’t get any more chaotic, he heard the very thing he’d been dreading—no, anticipating—since he got here tonight.
“GUN! GUN!”
Instantly, people began screaming and pushing one another to get out of the chamber. Ramirez and his team immediately ran to the podium and grabbed Grant and Quinn. Suddenly, Keene saw something out of the corner of his eye. Someone had thrown a rope over the side of the gallery. And sliding down it was a woman with short black hair. She had a long, pointed nose and a round face. And she was holding a Tech-9 submachine gun. It didn’t look anything like her, but Keene knew it was Sokolov.
Suddenly the chamber was filled with the sound of automatic gunfire. Everyone screamed louder and began trampling over each other. Keene drew his weapon to fire back at Sokolov. But someone knocked into him the moment he was about to shoot. His gun went flying in the air as he was knocked down. He scrambled over to get it. And noticed that Megan had pulled Eli out of the wheelchair and was taking cover under the first row of seats.
“Stay down!” he yelled to her.
He retrieved his gun and stood up. By this time, Sokolov was on the ground walking toward him. And firing at will. He dove for cover again and got off three rounds. He had no idea if he’d hit his mark or not. He looked to the podium where Ramirez was trying to get Walker, Grant, and Quinn to safety. He was about to stand up again when he saw Ramirez go down. That left Walker exposed. He stood up to fire just as Sokolov unleashed another round of automatic fire right at the podium. Walker’s chest exploded in crimson and he fell immediately. Keene jumped up from behind the seats and started firing. He saw Sokolov spin around and slam into a row of chairs. He’d scored a hit. But where and how bad he didn’t know.
He started moving toward the spot she’d gone down when he saw her pop up a few rows to the side. She was headed right for Megan. Keene panicked. He jumped over the seats and began running at her just as she brought her Glock up to fire at Megan’s head. He pulled his weapon up and let go. Sokolov’s arm dropped as her head snapped back, and she fell to the ground.
The room fell silent. By this time only a few people were left in the chamber. Those who were still there were at the back trying to push their way out the door. Keene walked over to Sokolov’s body and used his foot to turn her over onto her back, keeping his weapon pointed at her the whole time.
As he turned her over, her arm flopped lifelessly to the side, letting go of the Tech-9. He kicked the Glock out of the other hand. She had two bullet holes in her forehead. She had managed to come back from the dead once. But this time, there was no chance.
Once and for all, Alexandra Sokolov was dead.
Keene lowered his weapon and went to Megan. He picked her up off the ground and held her. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said. She had a few tears rolling down her cheek.
Keene reached up and wiped them away. “She’s gone, Megan. For good this time.”
Keene felt a tapping on his shoulder. He turned to see a Middle Eastern man standing before him with tears in his eyes.
“Sir,” Keene said. “Are you okay? Can I get you some help?”
The man just shook his head and began sobbing. “I loved her. And you took her away from me!”
The man took his hands from his pocket and produced a Ruger 9mm. He put it into Keene’s chest and fired three times.
Keene felt the searing hot pain as the three rounds ripped through his chest. He heard Megan scream, “NOOOO!” and then saw Boz, Ramirez, and the rest of Ramirez’s team rush at him and empty their magazines into the man who had just shot him.
The man fell to the ground beside Sokolov. As he took his last breath, he reached out and grabbed Sokolov’s hand.
Keene slumped to the ground with Megan holding him. She was crying uncontrollably, saying, “No, no, no, no!”
He felt his breathing start to become shallow. And then he tasted blood. His lungs were filling with it. He coughed, and blood spilled from his mouth out onto his chin. He started to feel cold. He could hear the alarm in the background: Annnng, Annnng, Annnnng.
He looked up to see Megan crying and shaking her head. “Please, Jon. Please don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me.”
Annnnng…Annnnng…Annnnng…
Suddenly, everything went dim. He could still hear the ringing of the alarm, but everything else around him had been drowned out. And he couldn’t see anything, either. Just blur, everywhere he turned. Megan was gone, Boz was gone, no one was around. What was going on? What was happening?
Annnnng…Annnnng…Annnnng…
Just then, he looked to his left to see a pair of feet walking toward him. Whoever it was stood next to him and bent down. Quinn.
He coughed some more blood up. He could feel his life leaving him. Where was Megan? He forgot to tell her he loved her. Where was Boz?
Annnnng…Annnnng…Annnnng…
Quinn sat down beside him and reached over and grabbed his head and propped it back up so that he was looking at him straight on. “Quinn…What’s happening? Where is everyone?”
“Jon, it was always supposed to be this way.”
Annnnng…Annnnng…Annnnng…
“I don’t understand.”
Quinn held his head in his hands. “You will, Jon. You will.”
He closed his eyes. He wanted to go now. “Quinn…I…have to…go.”
“I know. But I need to tell you something first.”
Annnnng…Annnnng…Annnnng…
“What’s that? I’m…so…cold….”
Quinn smacked him in the face. He opened his eyes again.
“Jon, listen to me. You must remember everything you’ve been shown. Do you hear me? Everything, Jon! Everything! You must remember.”
Annnnng…Annnnng…Annnnng…
“Remember…yeah, I got it….Must remember.”
Jon Keene closed his eyes and exhaled.
EPILOGUE
Annnnng…Annnnng…Annnnng�
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Annnnng…Annnnng…Annnnng…
Annnnng…Annnnng…Annnnng…
Keene sucked in a breath and sat bolt upright in bed. He was covered from head to toe in sweat. Immediately he panicked. He felt around at his chest for the bullet wounds.
Nothing.
He felt for his collarbone, where Sokolov had shot him before, shattering the bone.
Nothing.
Annnnng…Annnnng…Annnnng…
Annnnng…Annnnng…Annnnng…
He was panting as if he’d just run a marathon. He smacked himself in the face a couple of times, hard, just to make sure he was awake.
Annnnng…Annnnng…Annnnng…
Finally, he got his breathing under control and reached over to turn the alarm off.
Annnnng…Annn—
He picked up his cell phone that was lying on the desk next to the bed. What in the world was going on? He felt like he was in the middle of a nightmare. He was completely disoriented.
The phone’s message light was blinking so he turned it on. Maybe Megan or Boz had left him a message telling him what the heck was going on right now. He slid his thumb across the screen and watched it unlock. He pushed the e-mail button where the message icon was blinking.
When it opened, a video was there. It had no sender’s address and no subject. He pushed PLAY.
The video took about a minute to buffer, but then the screen came to life. Quinn Harrington sat in the middle of a room in front of a camera.
“Jon, right now, you must be completely confused. Perhaps disoriented…maybe even nauseous. You should know—that’s okay. I’ve experienced the same thing.
“You’re probably wondering what’s going on. I know that this is going to be hard for you to understand, but you must believe me. What I am about to tell you is true. Every word. So please…trust me.
“Jon, today’s date is June 20, 2025.”
What? How could that be? No, it’s December….
“What you have just been through is something few men in our history have had the privilege of experiencing. Daniel…Isaiah…the apostle John…are just a few of the men whose company you now share. Jon, God has given you a revelation. A vision. Everything you think you’ve experienced over the last four months, though it feels as real as anything you’ve ever known…has all been but a shadow of a future that could come to pass. But make no mistake: what you saw—everything you experienced, even seeing things from your counterparts’ perspectives—is still something that is very much a reality.
“God has chosen you as His instrument to bring this nation to repentance. You have been given every bit of information you need to succeed in doing this. Jon, you have been shown the future. You are the man chosen to be God’s Prophet. Not me. I’m just his messenger to you. You are the Prophet.
“Today, President Grant will call you into his office where he will confront you about the warnings that have been sent to him. It is your job to convince him that those warnings are of God. You must do this, Jon. Because as you already know, you have an enemy waiting at your doorstep. And unless Grant calls the nation to repentance within fourteen days, I don’t need to remind you what will take place. God bless you, Jon. You are truly a blessed man.”
Keene ran to the bathroom and bent over the toilet. He emptied his stomach and fought to breathe. Could this be possible? Could it have all been a dream? It couldn’t have been. No, it was real. If it were a dream—a vision—how then could he be chosen by God for this? Before all of this happened he didn’t even have a relationship with God. What about the prison camp? The war? The…the…Everything!
He finished being sick and ran cold water over his face. He ran back to the bedroom and looked at the phone again. The message was gone. What? How could that be? He hadn’t erased it. It was just there!
He used his thumb to move the screen over to the next screen where the calendar was. He felt his breathing become shallow again as the date stared back up at him: June , .
He fell to his knees and began to sob. He had no idea what to feel. His whole life for the last five months—or at least what he had thought to be the last five months—had been a dream. A vision…whatever. He didn’t know what to call it.
He put his head in his hands and began to pray. God, please…please help me make sense of this. I’m so lost right now. I don’t know what’s going on. I need You, Lord. I need You! Please, God. Speak to me. If this is real, if I’m the one who is to do all of this, then tell me You’re there. Please God. Let me know You’re there.
He sat there for a minute listening for something. Anything. Finally, just before he was about to sit up, he felt something push him back to the ground. And then he heard a voice.
“I’m here, Jon.”
“Hello?”
“Jon, where are you?” Kevin Jennings asked.
“I’m checking something out. Why?”
“I stopped by your place a little while ago. You were already gone.”
“Yeah, I had something I needed to do.”
“Well, finish it up. President Grant just called. Your presence is requested at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. As in, right now.”
“Are Boz and Megan there yet?”
“What? Who?”
“Oh, yeah. Never mind.” Then, “Okay. I’m on my way.”
Keene hung up the phone and rolled the window down on his SUV. He drove out of the parking lot slowly. As he left, he watched Marianne Levy enter the Homeland Security building.
I’ll be seeing you soon, Marianne.
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
ROBBIE CHEUVRONT is the worship pastor of Northpoint Church in Corona, California, and cofounder of C&R Ministries with Erik Reed. He is also a songwriter and formerly toured with BNA recording artists Lonestar. Robbie is married to Tiffany and has two children, Cason and Hadyn, and is currently pursuing a theology degree.
ERIK REED is the lead pastor and an elder of The Journey Church in Lebanon, Tennessee. He graduated from Western Kentucky University with a BA in religious studies. He also graduated with his MDiv from Southern Seminary. Erik is married to Katrina, with two children, Kaleb and Kaleigh.
SHAWN ALLEN is the lead pastor and an elder of The Journey Church in Hartsville, Tennessee. He graduated with a BS in business management from Bethel University in McKenzie, Tennessee. Before vocational ministry, Shawn was previously in management as a police officer in Nashville. Shawn is married to his lovely wife of eight years, Miranda Allen.
THE 13: STAND BOOK TWO Page 33
