Television commentators had begun describing the scene to their worldwide audiences, with the all-news network securing the honor of providing a simulcast transmission, which was not only displayed on large monitors to the masses around the Temple Mount but also streaming around the world via the Internet. The Jewish religious elite were in place at the Temple Mount, where a deep-purple sash hung between two columns. The sash was emblazoned with two bowing cherubims, their wings touching at the center point, similar to the cover for the Ark of the Covenant. A select group of Jewish high society took their seats with Draven Cross and the officials arriving on the dais.
The two chief rabbis, one Ashkenazi and one Sephardi, overseers of the Chief Rabbinate of Israel, opened the ceremony with remarks and prayer. Cross’s comments were to follow before the purple sash was cut. Although sacrifices had already begun on a temporary altar nearby, the ribbon cutting was to mark the official opening of the temple construction project.
Just as Draven stood to speak, a fierce wind blew across the Old City and engulfed the Temple Mount, pushing some of the VIPs out of their chairs and sending hats flying. As the wind ceased, two older men suddenly appeared behind the purple sash—now torn in two within the framework of the rising temple of God.
The voice of the taller man rang out across the assemblage as he addressed Draven Cross. “You will not speak at this holy site today, son of perdition. Woe to you, Israel, for you have denied the true and living God. You have played the role of a harlot with the beast, leaving the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. The commands of the LORD your God were given to your forefathers. Is it not written that if you obey God, He will be your God and walk among you? Did He not break the bonds of Egypt from around your stiff necks and allow you to walk with your head high among the nations? You are a stiff-necked people who have greatly offended the true and living God, with whom there is no equal.”
Utter silence fell across the adjacent Old City and Temple Mount in response to the booming pronouncement of the first witness. Even Draven ran from the dais toward his security detail. The vast throng stood in shock as the man continued while his shorter companion stood quietly beside him.
“You missed the signs of the Messiah, whose name is Jesus, whose name is the name above all names. We will proclaim His glory for 1,260 days, to be a witness against your hypocrisy, Israel, and to urge you to repent of your sins against God.”
“Who do you think you are?” Draven Cross shouted in a moment of courage.
“Silence, evil one, for your very breath is at the mercy of El Shaddai. Today is not yours, but belongs to the God of Heaven,” the shorter witness bellowed authoritatively.
With this proclamation, Draven clutched his throat and fell to the ground. Security forces rushed to his side before carrying him from the Temple Mount to his vehicle, which sped off.
The shorter witness continued. “We are two olive trees and two lampstands, which stand before the Lord of the earth. We proclaim God’s glory and authority. A weary world should listen now to the decree of the LORD. It will not rain again in Israel until God allows. We are unmovable until our time is complete.”
The two men walked toward the staircase that led to the Wailing Wall plaza below, where they had first appeared, parting the crowds and security forces, as God had done to the Red Sea thousands of years before. After descending, they seated themselves in front of the ancient temple wall as the people of Israel formed a broad but distant semicircle around them. Israeli security forces called out to the men to surrender or face death. However, the two servants of God sat in complete silence. As a squad of policemen advanced and aimed their weapons, the two men stood, causing the policemen to stop their advance momentarily.The police captain called out, “This is your last warning.” But his threat was met only with silence. “Open fire,” the captain shouted. As the rifle reports rang out, seemingly announcing the demise of the two self-proclaimed witnesses, an intense wave of heat and flame engulfed the entire squad. As the intense flames consumed the policemen, reducing them to ashes, the two witnesses of God sat down again as if nothing had happened.
Observers and security forces alike ran away in fear, their shrieks and cries heard all over Jerusalem as a result of the impressive display of power by the God of Israel.
* * *
Christopher was impressed as usual with the methodical and cerebral approach to intelligence collection the Israeli’s undertook to discover Draven Cross’s plans. It seemed that General Havid had orchestrated a plan to recruit a source in the construction firm from Dubai that had been awarded a recent significant contract from the U.E. That contract was in fact for the building of the U.E.’s new home, near the ruins of ancient Babylon in Iraq.
“So as you can see, we are confident of the location for the new U.E. headquarters. I think your mission is complete,” General Havid said confidently.
“Wow, that was a great rundown, but…” Christopher stopped as the doors to the small, isolated meeting room flew open and a frantic staffer rushed into the room.
“What is the meaning of this disruption?” General Havid demanded.
“My apologies, sir, but Secretary-General Cross was attacked at the temple ceremony, just moments ago,” the staffer replied, touching a button on the desk near General Havid. A flat screen descended from the ceiling, and the staff member changed the channel to the event coverage on the all-news network.
“If you’re just joining us, we’re continuing our coverage from Israel. Moments ago, Secretary-General Draven Cross was rushed to Hadassah University Hospital in Jerusalem where his status is unknown after being attacked by two unidentified males. The two men then proceeded to attack several policemen near the Wailing Wall, where they remain. We have footage of the attack, but we wish to offer a word of caution to sensitive viewers due to the graphic nature of the content,” the anchor warned.
Christopher, Jackson, Havid, and the aide watched in awe as the two men proclaimed their condemnation of Israel and their allegiance to God. While it was clear one of the men had told Draven he could not speak, it was unclear just exactly how they had attacked him. The most chilling scene was the fire that engulfed the policemen; the cameras had zoomed in and enhanced the footage, focusing on the two men. A flame had appeared to come from out of their mouths, or perhaps just near them—it was hard to tell precisely, but the end result was clear.
“Please tell me I am not the only one who knows who these two guys are,” Jackson said excitedly.
Christopher and General Havid both looked at each other in obvious puzzlement.
“Man—” Jackson began in disbelief, but he was cut off by Christopher.
“I know, I know, I need to study my Bible,” Christopher agreed before Jackson could finish his chiding.
“Well, at least that message is getting into that thick skull of yours,” Jackson joked.
* * *
“Gentlemen, perhaps we should finish this conversation in my office upstairs,” General Havid suggested, directing Christopher and Jackson out of the conference room and toward a bank of elevators, hitting the button for the twelfth floor when they entered the first available car.
Gabriella and Gemma both stood watching in horror as Draven was being carried off the Temple Mount after a tense exchange with two men who called themselves messengers from the God of Israel.
“Do you think he’s dead?” Gemma asked.
“I don’t know, but we’d better start trying to figure out what just happened. I’ll call Evan…never mind, he’s calling now. Call the staffers on the ground and find out Draven’s status,” Gabriella directed Gemma as she answered the call from Evan Mallory.
“No, Evan, we don’t know if he’s alive or dead. Well, we’re trying, but he took most of the staff with him, minus Gemma and me. Wait! I said wait, Evan! Gemma’s trying to tell me something,” Gabriella explained as Gemma passed her a note.
The note read, “Draven is alive and mad. He’s being evaluated at H
adassah University Hospital. Expect taskings to follow shortly.”
Gabriella relayed the message to a relieved and overly dramatic Evan. “Yes, I am sure we will exact justice for the attack. Okay, I’ve got to go. Good-bye, Evan.”
“Who are those two men?” Gemma asked.
“I’m not sure, but they have just made themselves a deadly enemy, that’s for sure. The only thing we can do now is await further instructions,” Gabriella responded thoughtfully.
* * *
Draven Cross wished he could yell and scream at the medical attendants caring for him. Instead he was limited to pushing and shoving people away. He gestured an unmistakable demand for pen and paper. A junior U.E. staffer handed Draven her pen and pad and watched him write furiously.
“I am fine, minus not being able to speak. Someone tell me, are those two old fools dead?” Draven wrote.
The female staffer began writing something back to Draven, who ripped the pen and pad from her hands.
“I am unable to speak. My hearing is fine, you twit,” Draven scrawled angrily.
“My apologies, sir. The two attackers are still alive and killed several policemen according to Israeli reports,” the staffer responded hastily.
“I am leaving this horrible country. Make sure my plane is ready to depart. We’re heading to Rome,” Draven wrote before grabbing his suit jacket and storming out of the hospital, leaving a stunned crowd of doctors and nurses in his wake.
* * *
General Havid instructed his aides to wait in the reception area outside his office as he closed the door.
“Now, Jackson, tell us what you know of these two men who attacked Mr. Cross today,” the general requested.
“Boy, oh, boy, what a trip this has been. I can’t believe y’all don’t know who those two men are,” Jackson said with disbelief.
“Well, we don’t, so just tell us,” Christopher instructed shortly.
“I believe those two men are none other than the prophets of God described in Revelation 11. If you consider the whooping they put on old Saint Cross and his cronies, then add in their message, you have all you need to identify them. Dressed in sackcloth to indicate mourning, they will prophesy God’s glory to a fallen world and tell mankind about the cure to the fatal disease of sin. But sadly, the world will reject their message. The two prophets will be a shining light in this dark time, and the world will hate them,” Jackson explained.
“What can I do with them?” General Havid asked. “The prime minister will demand their removal from the Wailing Wall. This is the second time Israeli lives were lost.”
“You can do nothing. Remember, gentlemen, the witnesses said God numbered their days to 1,260. Their demise will be at the hands of the Antichrist, and not until the Word of God says so,” Jackson informed his friends.
“Sir, my advice to you is to take what Jackson says is going to happen as fact. The best thing you can do is try to keep the people at a safe distance,” Christopher counseled.
“Fine, I will do my best to convince the prime minister and others to stay away, but I feel that I will lose that fight. We need to get you two on your way to Iraq.” Havid pushed a buzzer to summon his executive assistant. Before the man arrived, he continued, saying, “I have arranged for you to fly into Baghdad this evening, where you will connect with one of our best Mossad agents, Gilana Edri. She will help you get near Babylon so you can conduct your reconnaissance mission. I wish you well and will be in touch after the mission.”
“Thanks, sir,” Christopher replied. “We really appreciate your help and hospitality.”
“Yes, sir, thank you,” Jackson added.
“My friends, we have only just begun our journey. May Yahweh bless you and keep you on the journey ahead. Now go,” General Havid urged. “We all have a mission before us to accomplish.”
Christopher cast one last longing look back over his shoulder at the stately old warrior as the door to the office closed before he and Jackson were led back to the vehicle that had brought them to the Ministry of Defense. Christopher hoped that General Havid was right—that their journey together had only begun, as he longed to find a positive wave in the midst of the sea of disaster around him. He needed something or someone to trust, because he had let himself down too many times to be trusted any longer.
CHAPTER 18
As Evan Mallory looked out from the foyer balcony of the Palazzo Caelum, an ancient Roman palace located along the banks of the Tiber, pride swelled within him. Grand imams and ayatollahs intermingled with priests, preachers, and rabbis; men and women were all chatting amicably, a pleasing testament to Evan’s efforts throughout the week of the World Religious Leaders Conference. Leaders from every significant faith rallied around the Interfaith vision Evan had laid out for them throughout the week—a religious creed stating that God is within all of mankind and, despite revealing Himself in different ways to various cultures, He is the same God to everyone.
The attack on Draven by the two religious fanatics served only to bolster among the spiritually influential crowd gathered below Evan that the world needed one faith. He had even made plans to exploit the attack on Draven, as suggested to him in a dream last night by his spiritual guide, the Prince of This World. So when the unquestioned leader of Shia Islam, after hearing about the attack in Israel, told the entire session, “The world needs one faith, centered on the unity and peace found in all spiritual expressions, to bring us together and not apart,” he and many of the others at the conference were shocked.
“Gentlemen, I want to thank you for the heartfelt outpouring of concern and well wishes for the secretary-general, who was savagely attacked yesterday. The great news is that he will be joining us within the hour to conclude this historic conference. Please finish your refreshments and make your way to the conference hall. We will open the morning with communal prayers, invoking the spirits of the universe to grant us a successful close to our meeting,” Evan announced grandly before making his way into the main foyer.
* * *
Gabriella grew more concerned about what Christopher and Jackson were up to in Israel given the bizarre exchange between Draven and the two witnesses, a moniker given to them by the media. President Rodgers’s latest message only drove home the point that he was looking for a reason to attack Draven. She sat at her desk, wearing the same clothes she had put on thirty-six hours earlier, staring at the American president’s most recent communication.
“Gabriella, I know you’re in a tough situation, but I wouldn’t have asked you to do the job if I didn’t believe you were up to it. I have been purposefully keeping communications between us at a minimum to protect you as well as the mission I feel must be accomplished, which is stopping Draven Cross at all costs. Right now, I have Christopher and Jackson in Israel working to find the location of the new U.E. headquarters. I know I could have asked you, but I also needed to get a feeling for whether General Havid is the trusted ally I hope he is, and my prayers have been answered. The boys are on their way to the suspected new U.E. headquarters site now.
“I pray that you will decide one day soon to make Jesus Christ Lord over your life, that you will finally surrender that fifty-pound brain of yours to its creator. I don’t believe we will ever meet face-to-face on this side of eternity again, but please know I care for you like a father and it has been a privilege to serve our nation with you. I will send you a message before any attack to give you a chance to shelter. Just try to stay away from that new HQ. It is my earnest and heartfelt prayer that we will meet in Heaven one day. Your devoted friend, President Rodgers.”
Tears welled up in Gabriella’s eyes as she sat at her desk helpless to prevent the seemingly inevitable war and worried about the future for herself and her friends Christopher and Jackson.
“God, please help us,” was all Gabriella could muster as sobs rose up from somewhere deep within and the tears spilled over to flow unchecked down her cheeks.
* * *
Christoph
er and Jackson’s travel had been strictly commercial and comfortable. However, the major’s attention was quickly caught outside the small passenger terminal at Baghdad International Airport. Seeing the familiar, small, poorly maintained vehicles driving around wildly, he knew things were about to become a lot more uncomfortable. Fight-or-flight response kicked in as a tall, raven-haired, fair-skinned woman wearing a brown abaya and matching al-Amira accompanied by a muscular man in a black thawb and sandals approached him and Jackson as they stood near a taxi stand.
“Get ready for a fight,” Christopher told Jackson. “Potential trouble coming right at us.”
“I’m always ready,” Jackson retorted, but Christopher knew he was paying attention.
The woman paused about ten feet from Christopher and Jackson and stared, while the man kept coming toward them.
“General Havid sent us to take care of you,” the man said in a thick accent. “We should go.”
“General Havid told us that we were meeting a woman. What’s your female friend’s name?” Christopher questioned as Jackson moved to the left side of the man.
“Her name is Gilana Edri. You know women cannot speak to a strange man in public here without drawing attention, so please let’s go,” the man urged nervously. “Now.”
“Okay, we will go with you, my friend, but just know if you try anything, you’re losing a kidney,” Jackson warned, poking the man with the butt of his field knife as they followed him to the woman.
Christopher and Jackson followed the odd couple away from the airport terminal and into the parking lot, toward an antiquated van.
“Okay, that’s far enough. Before we get in that van, let’s see some ID,” Jackson instructed, pushing the man against the van, drawn knife in hand.
“Relax, Sergeant Major Williams,” the woman said, holding up an Israeli Defense Forces identification card. “My name is Gilana Edri, the lead Mossad agent in Iraq. This is my lieutenant, Uri Hadad. I obviously could not approach you or speak in such a public place.”
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