“I could go on, but I suggest you study for yourself what’s coming. The bottom line? Everything including the kitchen sink will be thrown at the world,” Jackson concluded, standing to go to his room.
“Awesome. I had the chance to avoid all this, but I refused to see the truth,” Christopher said glumly.
Jackson stopped in the hall leading to his bedroom, saying, “Hey, man, don’t go down that road. We all missed the boat. God is gracious enough to allow us to have the chance to come to Him, even now in the midst of suffering, if we will only ask Him. Don’t wait too long to make things right with God, Christopher. You had no promise of tomorrow before all this started, but you for sure don’t now.”
“Jackson, I know I need to surrender in this one-sided battle I’m waging against God, but I honestly don’t know how to let go of the pain of the past. I’ve been angry with God for so long I can’t remember anything else,” Christopher confessed.
“Pain is a prison that Jesus died to release all of us from. If you would just walk out of the holding cell you’ve made for yourself, you would find the peace with yourself and God that you’re craving. Look, you’ve never made excuses in your professional career, so why are you making excuses personally for trusting the only one that has always been there for you—God?” Jackson asked sincerely.
“I get it, Jackson. I really do, but life is not so black and white, even for me who has seen more evidence of God’s existence in the last few days than I know how to acknowledge. But I do understand that we’re facing a life-and-death battle for the next seven years.”
“No, I’m not sure you do, Christopher. What you need to do is get over your little woe-is-me toddler temper tantrum of believing the pain hurts too bad to accept the only lifeline we have in this situation. Just don’t wait too long, man. In our line of work, and now with the dawning of the tribulation, each day will only get harder. And more dangerous. I’m gonna get some sleep. Wake me in the event of some kind of crisis,” Jackson said drily.
“Now whose sense of humor is horrible?”
* * *
Tapping first, Gabriella eased back into the Oval Office, only to find President Rodgers standing with his arms folded across his chest, staring out into the late-afternoon rainstorm.
“You wanted to speak with me, sir?” she said softly, seeing from his demeanor the heavy burden that sat on this man’s shoulders.
“Yes, come in, Gabriella, and have a seat,” President Rodgers invited, ushering her to a chair in front of his desk. “Mr. Cross has accepted my recommendation for you to become the head of intelligence in his new role as secretary-general of the U.N.”
“I didn’t know the U.N. had an intelligence division, nor that Draven Cross was the secretary-general of the U.N. That must have been some discussion going on in here,” Gabriella replied, shocked.
“Our brief meeting confirmed for me more than you understand at this point. Cross was voted in by the U.N. General Assembly minutes ago on the endorsement of Aguilar. In the meantime, you and I will execute our plan to stay ahead of this man. There seem to be no limits to his power,” President Rodgers stated direly.
“Yes, I can see the value of having insight into his future plans. I will hesitantly admit that Mr. Cross’s rapid ascent in power and authority has me questioning some of the recent descriptions of him that I’ve heard, of the biblical nature. So explain the plan, sir.”
“As we speak, a selection of our nuclear ICBMs are being transported to a remote location in Alaska, just in case they’re needed. Mr. Cross wants the world to denuclearize and send military forces to the U.N. under his control. I can only imagine why he is seeking to disarm the world, but in the same breath arm himself,” President Rodgers related drily.
“What? Are you really going along with that plan, sir? I mean to denuclearize and reduce our military strength seem to place this nation in a very vulnerable position.” Gabriella, astounded by what she had just heard come out of the president’s mouth, struggled to comment without sounding disrespectful of the man’s office.
“Gabriella, I would never willingly sell our nation down the river. However, it seems that others in our government already made a deal with Cross before his ever walking in here today. As a result, I am politically isolated, at least for now. I have a feeling a few other countries are not going to just lie down for Cross. We will plan and hope that a war doesn’t erupt over this. I’m hoping that you can now see the significance of his acceptance of you into his inner circle.” The president leaned forward on his desk as he looked at her.
“Yes, I can. When do I have to report to New York?”
“You start later this week. I’ll hold a press conference tomorrow afternoon, saying we support peace and are committing forces to the U.N. to ensure the stability of the world from a centralized government. This is political suicide for me, but I don’t really see the country as we know it surviving to the next election cycle anyway. I want Omega Group to head to the Alaska site to ensure everything goes well with our hidden nukes.”
“I am on it, sir. And, Mr. President, I hope this goes without saying, but I won’t let my country or you down in this new role,” Gabriella promised.
“I’ve never worried about your commitment to this country or even to me, my dear Gabriella. I worry about your soul. Listen to me for a second. I know that you believe in science and logic, but don’t be blind to all that the Bible is saying about these historic moments you’re now tied to. Please don’t allow yourself to be swayed by Draven Cross. I have a feeling he’s only beginning to demonstrate his power,” President Rodgers stated sadly.
“I can promise only to be open-minded, but thanks for caring. I’ll report in at least once a week via this, a quantum communications device,” Gabriella said with a smile as she placed the device in his hand. “It’s part smartphone, part computer, and virtually impossible to hack. Christopher and Jackson will each have one, and I’m leaving this one with you. The one I’m taking can be my farewell gift from Omega Group.”
“Godspeed, Gabriella. I will be praying for you.”
* * *
Christopher burst into Jackson’s room. “You’ll never guess the message I just got from Gabriella.”
“Man, this better be something serious, like the end of the world is happening, or I am going to shoot you,” Jackson replied.
Christopher laughed. “The world is ending according to you. Anyway, it’s about our next mission. Gabriella wants to talk about it in person, but not at the Pentagon. She’s coming over here.”
“What, here? To discuss a mission? Man, I have a feeling this is going to be something crazy.”
“Get dressed. She should be here any minute.”
“Sure thing, Chris. Anything in particular you want me to wear?” Jackson asked as he threw off his blanket, exposing his hairy arms and legs.
“Oh, man, I swear you’re the missing link. Just wear some clothes, you freak,” Christopher said over his shoulder as he covered his eyes and fled the room.
* * *
About an hour after sending Chris the text saying she was on her way over, Gabriella stood knocking on the apartment door. Though she could hear a noise inside, she had been knocking and waiting for several minutes, freezing in the twilight, when Jackson finally opened the door.
“Hello, ma’am. Welcome to our humble abode. Please enter,” Jackson invited with an outflung arm.
“Geez, what took you guys so long to open the door…and what’s that smell?” Gabriella asked, nose wrinkling.
“Oh, Chris, as you call him, has been vacuuming and is burning some incense. He has a foot-odor problem and didn’t want to offend you,” Jackson replied with a wink.
“Is that Gabriella?” came the loud inquiry from Christopher in the back of the apartment.
“Yeah, it’s me, swamp foot,” Gabriella called back, followed by loud laughter shared with Jackson.
Swamp foot? Christopher thought. What’s that all about? “
Okay, I’ll be there in a minute,” he replied aloud.
Jackson had brought Gabriella a bottle of water and seated himself in the lone chair in the living room, leaving Christopher to sit next to Gabriella on the couch.
“Chris, you didn’t have to clean up or mask your foot-odor problem for me,” Gabriella murmured with fake sweetness.
Jackson choked on his water and laughed so hard he nearly fell out of his chair.
“Is that what you were told? It’s the country boy over there with the foot and other odor problems. I was just trying to save you from his stench.”
Jackson, still laughing, said, “Listen, there are two of us living in this small apartment. I would say the stench is half yours and half mine.”
“I would say your math is half wrong,” Christopher retorted.
“Well, I can see you two are getting along just fine, but a woman’s touch would be nice,” Gabriella asserted, placing her water bottle on the floor after looking around pointedly but failing to find either a coffee table or end table. “I came to tell you the fallout from the president’s meeting with Draven.”
“Look, if you expect me to wear a suit and babysit this guy on a permanent basis, I quit right here and now,” Jackson burst out, reclining in the chair.
“Do you want to hear me out, Jackson, or just keep making wrong guesses about why I came here this evening?” Gabriella questioned acerbically.
“Proceed, ma’am,” Jackson replied with mock penitence.
“Thanks. President Rodgers, like Jackson, believes there’s a strong possibility Draven Cross is the Antichrist. He wouldn’t say it as explicitly as I just did, but I know that’s what he’s implying. So after Congress sold the country down the river to Cross, he’s hedging his bets by sending some of our nukes to a black site in Alaska.”
“What? Slow down,” Christopher demanded, grasping his head.
“You heard me right. Apparently, Cross called the Gang of Eight and worked a deal for their support of his plan for world peace, namely, America denuclearizing and supporting the U.N. militarily. The Gang of Eight, Jackson, are the leaders in Congress, particularly for intelligence matters. But practically, they hold power over what gets passed and what doesn’t,” Gabriella elaborated.
“I am glad you read my mind, but I was trying to hold my questions until the end,” Jackson teased.
“So let me get this straight. President Rodgers is sending nukes to Alaska to hide them from Cross, then—with the approval of Congress—destroying the rest and sending conventional military assets to work for the U.N.,” Christopher clarified, disbelief etched in every line of his face.
“Yes, and the president has asked me to work for Cross to spy on him—I’ve agreed,” Gabriella reported, her face grim with purpose.
“What? You’re going to willingly go work for the devil?” Jackson asked, his disapproval clear.
“Yeah, I agree with Jackson. That is crazy, Gabriella. You don’t know enough about this guy. He seems like he could be ruthless to get what he wants.”
Gabriella stood and moved to the raised fireplace hearth, obviously agitated by the pushback from Chris and Jackson to the plan to which she had agreed. Her frustration clear, she said forcefully, “First, we don’t know who Draven Cross will be as a leader, but I’m willing to bet he is not hiding red skin, horns, and cloven feet—so he’s probably not the devil, Jackson. Next, having a spy in his inner circle is America’s best chance of figuring out his moves and how they might harm our nation. So get on board, guys.”
Christopher changed his tone immediately. “I can see you didn’t come here to hear our thoughts on this plan, Gabriella, so what does this have to do with Omega Group?”
“Chris, you’re the new Omega Group commander with direct reporting to the president. He wants you guys to make sure the nukes sent to Alaska remain secure and ready should the need arise. That’s your only mission for the foreseeable future.”
Jackson pushed the recliner back up and stood, saying, “Okay, I’ve sat here long enough being quiet. First off, ‘I told you so’ about Cross feels so right about now, but I won’t say it. Secondly, Gabriella, you have a lot of nerve acting like it’s no big deal to jump into the unknown abyss that is Draven Cross. That guy is the Antichrist. I don’t care what the president, Christopher, or you think. On top of that, missy, we care about you! Bad as I hate to admit it, that’s a fact. We don’t want to see you hurt or, even worse, dead, especially before accepting Jesus as your Savior.”
Gabriella suddenly crumpled. As the tears started, she began to tremble. Both Christopher and Jackson moved to her side, and somehow all three of them ended up embracing.
She was the first to find her voice. “What the heck is wrong with me, guys? In my desperation to find out who Draven really is, have I accepted a suicide mission?”
“All I know is that we both care about you and about our country. At the moment, it seems that both of you are in serious danger,” Christopher said gravely.
“Gabriella, if he catches on to your being a spy, there is no telling what he will do to you…or to America,” Jackson warned.
Gabriella pulled away from the embrace, saying, “I know, Jackson, but I need to find out whether he is the brilliant, logical person that I’ve always wanted the world to have as a leader or the Antichrist of the Bible.” She paused, then added, “Look, before I go, here are two quantum communications devices. You will be able to securely communicate with me and the president with these. They are GPS, Glonass, and Beidou enabled, solar powered and indestructible for the Jackson types. It makes your smartphone look like a string and cup.”
“Uhh, quantum what? Please tell me I can still play games on this thing,” Jackson begged.
“Don’t worry, country boy, I’ll teach you how to use this tech marvel,” Christopher promised.
Gabriella and Christopher both laughed.“The bottom line is, you have the most secure and capable mobile phone on the planet. I will so miss you two knuckledraggers,” Gabriella said, hugging both men before gathering her belongings and heading for the door. Christopher followed her and stopped her with a hand on her arm before she could open it. She turned back to face him, and they stood close in the entryway as he spoke.
“Promise me you’ll be careful…please. If you feel your cover is blown, just send us the word. We will get you out, I promise.”
Gabriella rose to her toes and kissed Christopher on the cheek before saying, “I know, Chris.”
Christopher walked with her to her car then stood watching outside his apartment complex as she drove out of the parking lot. As he watched her taillights disappear into the chilly night, he hoped that God would at least hear this one prayer. “Lord, please keep her safe.”
* * *
As Air Force One soared out of the DC metro area and up the eastern seaboard back to New York City, Draven was strategizing his next move in the American president’s meeting room aboard the executive aircraft.
“Evan, I need you to prepare the following resolution, as my first official act as secretary-general. I want a resolution pledging seven years of peace with Israel, guaranteed by all nations within the U.N. I also want to begin the groundwork for a single global currency. On the surface, it will be heralded as a measure to shore up the ongoing economic turmoil from the disappearances. However, it will also begin to provide me with more control over the world. Lastly, Evan, prepare to meet with all the major religious influencers and leaders in the world to move the world toward a singular faith, orchestrated by me. I will announce ahead of your conference, in Rome preferably, my full support for this interfaith movement. We need not waste the momentum this crisis has afforded me. I want to solidify my hold on the world immediately.”
“Draven, I’m glad that you brought—” Evan began but was interrupted.
“Excuse me, did you just refer to me by my first name?” Draven asked, getting up out of his seat and moving to stand in front of Evan.
“Yes, I
just assumed it would not be an—” Draven again stopped Evan from speaking, this time by holding up a hand. “I am better than you, Evan, in every conceivable way. What would ever possess you to think we were equals or even friends? If you value your pathetic role in my service, then never assume anything for me. I will tell you exactly what to do, and you will execute it to perfection. If you fail me, you will only make that mistake once. Now apologize to me for causing me to lose my temper with you.”
“Sir, please accept my sincerest apologies for insulting you by insinuating that I could possibly be a peer,” Evan begged, sounding as though he might burst into tears.
Without acknowledging Evan’s words Cross turned his attention to Gemma. In a demeaning tone, he demanded, “Please tell me that you have arranged for my first press conference as secretary-general to take place on this flight.”
“Yes, sir, the press is ready for you at your leisure,” Gemma replied calmly.
“Have you figured out exactly who Dr. Gabriella Costa is? I want to ensure that Rodgers is not sending me some washed-up, tenured bureaucrat,” Draven spat.
“No, sir, I am not prepared to detail anything beyond what I initially provided you regarding Dr. Costa for the earlier meeting with President Rodgers.”
“You vex me, Gemma. In one breath you seem brilliant, and then in the next moment you fall flat on your lovely face. Get it together and provide me an answer by the time this plane lands in New York City. I will meet with the press in five minutes. Both of you, leave me now. I need to collect my thoughts.”
As Evan and Gemma hurried out of the presidental suite of Air Force One, Draven sought his spiritual guide for assistance. “Prince of This World, what should I do next?”
“Consolidate power,” the Prince replied in Draven’s mind.
Rapture Advent of the Last Days Page 18
