“Just pulling your overly sensitive leg. Lay your plan on me, brother.”
Smiling, Christopher began. “All I came up with, truth be told, is that we need a new base of operations. If what you’re saying is true about global war, coupled with the fact we are heading to a secret site to guard nukes, then heading back to D.C. is the last thing we should do after this mission.”
“There is a lot of truth in that statement. You’re absolutely right—D.C., or any major city, won’t work. I have a feeling nukes will be in play during this global war. This war, the second seal judgment, is the foundation for some horrible postwar fallout judgments. The Bible is clear that within the first four seal judgments, one-fourth of the population left on this planet will be dead, which places the death toll well above a billion people. It makes the words of Jesus in Matthew 24:22 all the more real: ‘If those days had not been cut short, no one would survive, but for the sake of the elect those days will be shortened.’ Just accept Jesus, Christopher. Let the pain go. Trust me, life is uncertain now. Stop resisting before you make an eternal mistake.”
“Don’t push me, Jackson. I understand that things are not looking good for any of us right now, but it’s not easy to just let God take over my life, my thoughts, to forgive the hurt.”
“It is that easy to surrender to God, but I will keep praying for you. As far as surviving the next seven years, my family’s homestead in Alabama will probably be a good basing option. I’m gonna sleep on the details. Wake me when we reach the polar bear city.”
“I will let you have your beauty rest, princess, but we need to finalize how we are going to survive,” Christopher said, pushing the now-outstretched legs of Jackson off the seats as he headed back to his row.
“Watch it, or I will leave you out of the final plan,” Jackson threatened, smirking and pulling his ball cap down over his eyes.
* * *
Gabriella’s encounter with Samuel added to her paranoia of the future. How did he know her internal struggles with Draven’s character? It couldn’t be possible that God was speaking to her through Samuel. She rationalized Samuel’s seeming intuition regarding her reservations about Draven as him just projecting his hostility toward her employment with the U.E.
As she sat behind her desk to start working on the list Draven had demanded for the global leaders’ conference in two days, her quantum communicator vibrated, signaling a message had arrived. The display read: “A package from the Eagle will be destroyed in 15 minutes.” Her first thought was, Ugh, that is a poor cover for POTUS. While she could wait the fifteen minutes for the quantum device to automatically erase the message, Gabriella loved the autokill feature, which—with the user’s biometric data, in this case a thumbprint—instantly turned the device into an expensive paperweight.
President Rodgers’s message read, “Gabriella, I’ve arrived unannounced into New York ahead of the global leaders’ conference. If you’re available, message me, and I will respond with where we can meet. I would like to gain your insight into the recent announcements by the U.E. and that snake, Cross.”
Gabriella wiped the message from her device after responding to President Rodgers, laughing at his attempts to work incognito. Sure enough, her phone chirped a few moments later with directions to meet the president at seven o’clock that evening at a small steakhouse in Hell’s Kitchen. Well, I had better get to work. Who knows what tonight holds in store?
* * *
As the chartered commercial plane taxied to a secluded section of Ted Stevens International Airport in Anchorage, Christopher walked back to wake Jackson.
“Wake up, old man. We’re in the polar bear city.”
“What…really? Man, I didn’t realize how tired I was. Wait…is that snow on the ground?” Jackson shouted as he pressed his face against his window to see the snow-covered tarmac awaiting the Omega Team.
“Yeah, that’s snow. Surprise, surprise. Snow in Alaska in mid-November. Put on your big boy pants and jacket. You’ll live,” Christopher replied drily.
Several SUVs with dark-tinted windows and emergency flashers sat at the bottom of the staircase as the frigid Arctic air rushed through the open cabin door.
“Dude, really. I knew it was going to be cold in Alaska, but I am getting frostbite before I even set foot outside,” Jackson grumbled.
“Look, suck it up. You have some of the best winter gear available. I hope you’re not going to complain the whole time we’re here,” a laughing Christopher said over his shoulder.
“I just might,” Jackson replied with a pursed face.
As the other men of Omega began filing off the plane and into the SUVs, a single, hulking figure bundled in a large mountaineering parka waited outside the lead vehicle.
“I am guessing you’re Major Barrett and Sergeant Major Williams,” the human mountain greeted, extending a hand, which looked like a bundle of bananas, to Christopher and Jackson.
“Yes, I’m Sergeant Major Williams, but call me Jackson. I am guessing you’re missing from the local circus.”
Laughing, the man replied, “Nah, my momma just knows how to grow ’em big. I’m Chief Master Sergeant Jim Petty, but please call me Jimbo. I’m in charge of the site’s security.”
“Please excuse the comedian on my team, Chief. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jimbo. Just call me Christopher. I am guessing we still have a little traveling to do before we reach the site.”
“Roger that. We should get going. We have Blackhawks waiting for us at Elmendorf Air Base, just outside of Anchorage. From there, it’s a two-hour flight into the Alaska Range, then we’ll drive an hour from the helipad to the site location,” Jimbo explained.
“Man, this little excursion just keeps getting better and better. Seems to me I remember a television show about some folks being stranded forever in the middle of nowhere starting out with a theme song that said something about a three-hour tour,” Jackson said, smarting off.
Smiling at Christopher, Jimbo asked, “Is he always so motivated?”
“You have no idea. We can get to know each other over the next few hours, but let’s head out. We’re losing daylight standing here.”
Over the next five hours (instead of three, due to bad weather), Christopher and Jackson learned that Jimbo was from Sioux City, Iowa, and had been raised on a hog farm that supported a local processing plant. He measured six feet and seven inches and weighed in at a solid 240 pounds of pure muscle. With golden-blonde hair and blue eyes, Jimbo was the poster child for an all-American farm boy. He had joined the Air Force after high school in search of adventure and became a pararescueman, or PJ as they’re colloquially known. Christopher could see in Jimbo Petty the makings of a great new ally for the troubled days ahead.
* * *
Gabriella arrived a little late to the steakhouse as the disappearances had created complete havoc in the already unpredictable New York City traffic patterns. As she entered the restaurant, she laughed to herself at the disguise President Rodgers had donned for their dinner meeting.
“May I help you?” the maître d’ asked.
“I see my party has already arrived,” Gabriella replied, pointing to an elderly gentleman with a flowing white wig. “I’ll just join him, thanks.” The restaurant the president selected was luxurious but had an older-era charm with exposed wooden beams in the ceiling, elegant white-linen table coverings, and the subtle notes of fine cigars in the air. Laughing as she was seated, she teased, “You’ve got to be kidding me, sir. You look like a senile grandpa that got lost in his pajamas. If it were not inappropriate, I’d take a picture of you and sell it to the tabloids.”
“I get it, I would never pass as a CIA field agent, but it has all these people fooled,” President Rodgers retorted.
“Anyway, it’s good to see you, sir. The first few days with Draven have been interesting, to say the least.”
Putting up a hand to halt her speech, the president said, “Hey, let’s order food first. I am starving.” He s
ignaled their waiter, who moved immediately across the room to their table.
“Good evening. It will be my pleasure to serve you this evening. What may I bring you tonight?” the waiter asked.
“Ladies first,” Rodgers replied.
“I will have your center-cut filet mignon, medium, and a baked potato with butter.” Gabriella couldn’t help but tack on with a grin, “My grandfather will have the steak salad.”
“Grandpa will have the porterhouse, medium rare, with the steak fries,” the president quickly corrected with a grin of his own. As the waiter departed, he said, “Now fill me in on what Draven has been planning.”
“Well, you’ve heard of the name change for the former U.N., but really that was just an element of what Draven calls Project Babylon.”
As they ate, Gabriella detailed Draven’s three-phase plan of consolidating world power and ruling the world. She even relayed her encounter with the group led by Samuel in the U.E. plaza earlier in the day.
“I would be lying if I said I was shocked by what you’ve told me tonight. In my opinion, Draven is, without doubt, Gabriella, the man the Bible calls the Antichrist.”
“Sir, I get that the plan sounds very authoritarian, but it’s hard to contemplate Draven is the Biblical Antichrist. I can’t even say Antichrist without wanting to smack myself for saying something so ridiculous. No, I see Draven moving toward what countless non-Antichrist leaders before him have done, which is taking power for himself. We need to prepare to fight him, sir.”
“My dear Gabriella, your heart is leading you to the truth, but your intellect is in the way. Your soul is screaming God exists, He raptured His Church, and you work for the worst leader the world will ever witness, but you’re trying to suppress the evidence with logic. If the detailed encounter with this man named Samuel today doesn’t resonate with you that God is trying to reach you, well, then I fear for you.” The president’s concern for her was evident in his tone.
“I want to encourage you to continue to challenge your own mind as well as the assertions that there is no way God exists. Start opening your thinking to the genuine possibility that God is at work in the world around us. If I may be quite honest with you, your issue is pride, plain and simple. You see your intellect as superior to perhaps everyone—well, everyone not named Draven. You’ve been carrying an arrogance that you know everything into each argument presented for God, believing that there is no way God could exist. The world around us should tell you that for all your education, you have missed the most precious knowledge any of us can ever receive, namely, that God is real and you—in fact, we all—need Him,” President Rodgers concluded as he signaled for the check.
Gabriella began to tear up, unable to challenge the assertion—for the second time today—about her hesitance to accept God. And both encounters had provided such clear insight into her struggle between reason and God.
“Look, I won’t accept Draven’s plan lying down. I am taking the Lord with me into that meeting on Monday. I’ll play along, but if the opportunity to bring this man down presents itself, I am taking the shot,” President Rodgers stated emphatically and he stood and handed the waiter a wad of cash.
“Nice move, paying in cash. Doesn’t leave a named trail. You seem like you could survive as a field agent. However, there is one thing that’s been bugging me all night. How did you get away from your Secret Service agents?” Gabriella asked, standing as the president placed her jacket around her shoulders.
“Oh, that! Well, take a look around,” Rodgers replied.As Gabriella watched, every other diner in the restaurant stood to escort the president and Gabriella out of the restaurant.“The owner is a lifelong friend, so we had this intimate space all to ourselves tonight,” President Rodgers explained with a smile.
Laughing, Gabriella replied, “You’re a smooth operator. I wish you the best on Monday.” They exited the restaurant into a brisk, cold wind.
“Yield to your heart, Gabriella. You’re missing things all around you that will point you to God. I am trying to pound the same message home to my daughter. Tonight and earlier today should reinforce my point with you. Take care, and I’ll be in touch,” President Rodgers promised, climbing into a waiting SUV and leaving Gabriella alone with her thoughts in the cold.
Gabriella felt overcome with emotion as she jumped into her rideshare car. She would be a fool to deny that Draven was not who he portrayed himself to be to the world. She also couldn’t dismiss her incredible encounter with the stranger named Samuel, when he had detailed the war between her mind and emotions. Gabriella wanted a clear sign from God that he was reaching for her, which seemed outrageous even to her. As the car stopped at a light, she noticed a streetlight pole covered in missing/looking for person posters of disappearance victims.
As she exited the vehicle at her apartment, Gabriella challenged the God of the Universe. “If You exist, show me who Draven really is,” she demanded expectantly, while still doubting God would answer.
CHAPTER 13
Security was tight ahead of Monday morning’s global leader’s conference at the U.E. headquarters. Draven felt a surge of energy and the strong presence of his spiritual guide coursing in his thoughts. “You don’t need to sell your plan. These men will be your servants as pride fills their hearts. Place your trust only in me,” the Prince of This World said clearly in Draven’s mind.Cross felt ready to make the world his and trample anything or anyone who got in his way. “Gemma, the world leaders’ photo with me will happen in the next ten minutes, correct?”
“Sir, we are missing a couple of leaders. I’ve already spoken with—”
“Spare me the excuses. Let me guess…President Rodgers and former U.N. Secretary-General Aguilar. Well, those two should get over the fact that I will usher in an era of peace they only dreamed of achieving. If they are not here in five minutes, we will take the picture without them,” Draven said imperiously, moving toward the elevators.
“Yes, sir, understood,” Gemma responded quietly.
“Sir, hold up, I’ll ride down…” The elevator door promptly closed in the face of Evan Mallory. “It’s a big day, Gemma. Everyone is excited,” Mallory said, in an attempt to maintain his dignity despite the insult he had just received.
“Yes, sir. It’s a big day,” Gemma said flatly, noticing Dr. Costa heading for the elevators. “Oh, glad to see you, Gabriella. Could you please pass the message to the secretary-general that President Rodgers is detained in traffic and won’t make the photo with the other leaders?”
“I’ll handle that, Gabriella,” Evan Mallory said as he held the door to the elevator open. When the elevator doors opened to the U.E. lobby, Evan was shocked to see the photographers already snapping photos of Draven and the world leaders, minus President Rodgers, and him.
“Evan, you’re late, and I wait for no man,” Draven said as the group moved to a conference room adjacent to the main foyer of the U.E. building. As everyone settled in, President Rodgers made a fashionably and purposefully late entrance, his presence bringing relief to many in the room when they realized that the U.S. would participate. Draven produced a fake smile as the two men moved to greet each other.
“I was beginning to worry about you, old man. I’m glad you could make it, though it’s a shame you missed the historic photos. I am sure we could add you in later if you’d like,” Draven offered, extending a hand to President Rodgers.
“Amazing the traffic you can encounter in this city,” President Rodgers replied. “Before I forget, I was wondering where the bill for Air Force One should be dropped off.”
“I’ll just deduct it from your military contributions to the U.E. How does that sound, President Rodgers?” Draven said silkily.
“Shall we get down to business, Mr. Secetary-General?” President Rodgers asked, none-too-subtly avoiding Draven’s extended hand as he moved toward his seat.
“A man always focused on business… I respect that attribute of yours. Yes, let’s get on with our
business. I think you will be inspired before the day is over, President Rodgers.”
“Well, let’s see how the day goes first,” Rodgers responded from his seat at the large conference table before turning to nod to Gabriella, who was seated along the wall with the staff members of the various leaders.
* * *
Christopher felt an uneasiness about the mission Omega was performing in Alaska. As he nursed a cup of coffee in the base command post, he was glad to see the sun emerging after being hidden by a massive snowstorm for the last several days. Christopher planned to get out today to see the base his team was supposed to defend, hoping that would calm his nerves to some degree.
“Good morning, Jimbo. Quick question for you. Do you think we can head out this morning in the SUSVs to take a look at the perimeter of the site? I would like to get the know the area better, but the recent weather has stopped me,” Christopher said as Jimbo entered the command post with Jackson.
“What is an SUSV?” Jackson asked.
“Small Unit Support Vehicle—it’s used for Arctic environment military operations. It’s also known as the ‘big thing,’ as you called it when we rode here in it from the helipad a few days ago,” Christopher remarked sarcastically.
Answering Christopher’s question, Jimbo said, “You read my mind. I’ll go warm up a vehicle. Who knows how long this weather will hold? The last few days are more the norm than today during this time of year up here.” He then left the warm command post to get a vehicle ready for travel.
“I was starting to wonder whether the sun was ever going to show its face again. It was dark when we showed up, and it’s been snowing like we’re in a snow globe for the last two days. To top that off, it’s so cold, Jack Frost called in sick,” Jackson grumbled as he nursed a cup of coffee.
Laughing, Christopher asked, “What does that mean where you’re from?”
Rapture Advent of the Last Days Page 21
