World Order

by Mark Goodwin

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  Technical information in the book is included to convey realism. The author shall not have liability or responsibility to any person or entity with respect to any loss or damage caused, or allegedly caused, directly or indirectly by the information contained in this book.

  All of the characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 Goodwin America Corp.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote short passages in a review.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  All glory, honor, and praise to the King, my Savior, Jesus Christ.

  I would like to thank my Editor-in-Chief Catherine Goodwin, as well as the rest of my fantastic editing team, Stacey Glemboski, Sherrill Hesler, and Claudine Allison. Thanks to Daniel Hesler, M.D. for consultation on medical terms and procedures.

  CHAPTER 1

  Blessed is he that readeth, and they that hear the words of this prophecy, and keep those things which are written therein: for the time is at hand.

  Revelation 1:3

  Early Monday morning, Josh Stone pulled the butt of the AR-15 rifle closer to his wife’s shoulder. “Keep this tight.”

  Stephanie Stone looked past the open sights to the cardboard target across the field. “Okay.”

  “When you’re ready, squeeze the trigger slowly. Remember, take up the slack first, breathe out, then squeeze.” Josh stepped back to stand beside his sister, Nicole, who patiently waited for her turn to shoot.

  Seconds later, Stephanie’s rifle barked out a shot.

  “Good,” said Josh, seeing that she’d hit within a few inches of the target. “At least you’re on the paper.”

  She turned to look at her husband. “You’re not worried that the gunfire will draw attention to the fact that we have weapons?”

  “We have two more weeks of amnesty on the new gun laws,” said Josh. “But even after that, people will be able to pay a fee and register single-shot shotguns, tubular fed .22 rifles, and small caliber revolvers with a capacity of six rounds or less. People will still be shooting.”

  Nicole said, “These rifles don’t sound anything like the guns on that list.”

  The group had been at the compound a little more than a week. They’d had no trouble so far, and everyone was feeling more settled than when they first arrived.

  The Global Union peacekeepers had managed to quell the rioting in all but the most hostile cities. Long queues to acquire government assistance in the form of food staples and basic hygiene items served to keep the population occupied. People had time for little more than standing in line for the next meal or roll of toilet paper. The military presence was huge in major metropolitan areas, yet with the exception of outliers like Detroit, Baltimore, and New Orleans, curfews had been dropped. Peacekeepers were primarily tasked with handing out food and supplies. Many of the big box stores were still open, but less than half the population had the means to purchase even the most basic of needs. Most depended on the GU entirely for their subsistence.

  Josh motioned to his sister. “Nicole, you’re up next. Same thing as Stephanie. Keep it tight, take your time, and squeeze slowly.”

  “Got it.” Nicole raised her weapon.

  The training session was interrupted by Josh’s radio.

  Micah’s voice came over the walkie. “A vehicle is coming up the drive.”

  “I’m on my way. Stay out of sight until I get there,” Josh replied.

  “Should we come with you?” Stephanie asked.

  Josh shouldered his rifle and nodded at his sister and wife. “Yes, but keep back at least ten yards. Don’t let your presence be known unless we have to engage.”

  He sprinted toward the old farmhouse to see an older model Nissan Altima with faded blue paint coming up the gravel drive. The vehicle slowed to a stop and a large man stepped out.

  Josh lowered his rifle. “Emilio.”

  Nicole came out of hiding with her rifle slung behind her back. She ran past her brother and embraced the visitor.

  Emilio picked her up off the ground and kissed her.

  “We’ve got young people present,” said Stephanie after the public display of affection had become uncomfortable.

  Emilio put Nicole back on the ground, but their eyes remained locked.

  Micah stepped out from hiding with Lindsey close behind him. He rolled his eyes. “Please, Mom! We’ve seen people kiss before.”

  “Well, I don’t want to watch it.” She let her rifle hang from the sling over her shoulder and walked closer to the car. “So, are you here to stay?”

  “Probably not,” Emilio answered. “But I brought a present.”

  “What is it?” Nicole asked as if expecting a gift for herself.

  Josh inquired, “How is your secret investigation going?”

  “That’s the present.” The towering man walked to the trunk of the vehicle and put in the key.

  Josh stepped around the back to see the contents. Expecting some type of provision or weapon system, his eyes opened wide in amazement when he saw a man in the boot of the car, bound and gagged. “What’s this?”

  “One of the Saudi nationals I’ve been surveilling.”

  “Why did you bring him here?” Stephanie asked in a bemused tone.

  “We need to interrogate him. Find out what they’re planning.” Emilio looked down at the frightened man.

  “I thought you were going to hand this off to Brian in Tampa once you figured out what was going on.” Deep lines set in Josh’s brow. “DHS has been absorbed by the Department of Global Security. They decided to keep the Tampa field office open. I’m sure they retained Brian as Special Agent in Charge. He has the resources to handle this. Let him deal with it.”

  “I am,” Emilio insisted. “But I don’t have anything to tell him yet.”

  Josh’s jaw tightened as he looked at the man in the truck. “How about, hey, Brian, here’s the address and phone numbers for a terrorist cell operating in Cincinnati. Send in a unit to pick them up.”

  Emilio shook his head. “Coming from a supposed anonymous source? No way. Would you send in a team if you were the SAC?”

  Josh knew he was right, but refused to validate his claim.

  Emilio continued, “We need to provide actionable intel. We can’t expect Brian to take the tip seriously if we don’t give him specific information.”

  Josh gave an annoyed sigh. “Even so, this location is intended to be a safe house for my family. I never planned for you to use it as a base of operation for your side hustle.”

  “My side hustle? This was your bust! You saw the equipment they were working with. This is serious—National-Security serious.”

  “Which is why you should have turned it over to the Joint Terrorism Task Force like you were supposed to.” Josh lowered his brows.

  “Yeah, well, there was an issue with a phone being mistaken for a gun. Forgive me for trying to keep a buddy out of hot water.” Emilio scowled.

  “What’s he talking about?” Stephanie asked.

  “Nothing.” Josh was eager to change the subject. He turned back to Emilio. “But those are two separate issues. Both of which you created.”

  “Can we stop the bickering?” Nicole stepped between the two men.
“What’s done is done. Josh, why don’t you let him do what he needs to do, so we can get this guy out of here?”

  “Fine.” Josh huffed at being dragged into another of Emilio’s cockamamie schemes. “We have a run-down barn on the back side of the field.” Josh pointed toward a thicket of trees obscuring the view of the dilapidated structure.

  Emilio shook his head. “He’s going to be making a lot of noise unless he spills his guts right off the bat. Didn’t you say you have a cave or something?”

  “Making a lot of noise?” Stephanie’s eyebrows lowered. “What are you going to do to him?”

  “We need a few words in private.” Josh put his arm around Emilio and escorted him away from the others. “I hope you see what a bad idea it was to bring this guy here.”

  Emilio looked back to the trunk of the old Nissan. “I hope you see that I didn’t have any other options.”

  “You had plenty of other options—giving the info to the JTTF, for one.”

  “Yeah, yeah. We’ve been over that. Are you going to help me or not?”

  “I can’t take him into the cave. I’ve got all my supplies there. I can’t risk him coming back and stealing everything I own. We need those provisions to keep the people here alive.”

  “For starters, he has no idea where he’s at. Secondly, I doubt he’ll be going anywhere once I’m done with him.”

  “You’re going to kill him?” Josh looked at Emilio with concern.

  Emilio shrugged. “It’s not like I can just give him a Band-Aid and send him on his way when we’re finished.”

  “Cuff him to a tree on the side of the road and tell Brian where to find him!” Josh shook his head. “I can’t condone the killing of a suspect! I won’t have any part of it!”

  Emilio put his hands up. “Okay, okay, by all means. We’ll make sure the terrorist planning the demise of America is treated with the utmost courtesy and care. Not a hair on his head will be harmed—once I get my information.”

  Josh growled at the sour humor. “Get him up. I’ll show you where the cave is located.”

  Emilio’s serious expression slowly grew into a smile. “Thanks, buddy. I knew I could count on you.”

  ***

  Twenty minutes later, Josh walked into the cave where Emilio was getting the suspect ready for interrogation. “I brought the hammer and the pliers that you asked for.”

  Emilio tightened the zip ties securing the man’s arms to the side of the chair. “What about the drill?”

  “Too messy.” Josh shook his head.

  “I’ll clean it up. You’ve got a creek running right through here.”

  “See what you can get out of him without it. If he doesn’t want to cooperate, I’ll get the drill.”

  The Saudi’s eyes shifted from Emilio to Josh. He appeared nervous. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, but he said nothing.

  “This situation is about to get really bad for you,” said Josh. “It’s in my own best interest to implore you to tell us what we need to know now, before things have to get messy. As you can see, I’ve done a lot of work to this cave. I’d hate to have blood and guts splattered everywhere.”

  The man’s voice cracked as he spoke with a thick middle-eastern accent. “I assures you. If I know something, I tell you. Unfortunately, I think you finded wrong person.”

  Emilio pressed his lips together and nodded empathetically. “We got the wrong guy. Sorry about all the confusion. I’ll give you a ride back to Cincinnati.” Emilio pressed a button on his phone and played a recording of a middle-eastern man speaking in what sounded like his native tongue.

  Emilio stopped the recording. “Now, I’ll admit, I’m not fluent in Arabic, nor am I an audio expert. But what I can tell you is the computer has that as being a 99 percent match for being your voice. And, my interpreter tells me that it’s a conversation between you and your friend, Hassan, planning an attack on American soil.” Emilio pulled the chair, to which his captive was attached, over to the creek running through the cave.

  “I understand that King Abdullah is going to be disappointed if you talk, but you’re going to tell us one way or the other. And King Abdullah will never know the agony and torment that you endured trying to hold out. Everybody breaks. Do yourself a favor and tell us what we need to know.”

  The prisoner’s face reflected a great deal of remorse. “I am sorry. I cannot.”

  “I understand.” Emilio wrapped a towel around the man’s face and pulled him backward into the creek. He held the man’s head under the flowing stream for half a minute. The detainee bucked against his restraints. Emilio violently jerked him back upright and removed the towel from his face. The man coughed and spit water out of his mouth. His eyes were red and bloodshot. Spittle dangled from his lower lip.

  “Would you like to try that again? I can go for a whole minute. Of course, it’s easier to watch than it is to actually be the one under the water.” Emilio smiled.

  “Please! No!” begged the man.

  “You ready to talk?” asked Josh.

  The man looked as if he were ready to cry. He said nothing, and Emilio lowered him into the icy cold water. The man struggled and squirmed as if panicking. Emilio held him down longer this time but eventually brought him back up. The man coughed up water, gasping violently for air in between the hacking fits.

  “He’s going to drown if you keep that up,” said Josh.

  “Bring me the pliers then,” said Emilio.

  “No, no, please, no,” the man pleaded.

  “It’s not up to me,” said Emilio. “I have a job to do. You’re the one who decides when I’m finished.

  Josh handed the pliers to Emilio.

  Emilio held the dirty instruments near the man’s face. “Open your mouth.”

  The man clenched his lips and closed his eyes tightly.

  “Open your mouth, or I’m going to rip off your nose,” said Emilio.

  “No. Don’t do this!” The man lowered his gaze.

  “Then tell us what we need to know,” said Josh.

  “You can give me immunity?” asked the prisoner.

  “This isn’t that kind of negotiation,” said Josh.

  “I cannot go back to Saudi Arabia if I talk to you. King Abdullah will kill my family.”

  “We’re limited on what we can give you in return.” Josh crossed his arms.

  “I go to American prison. No black site. No Guantanamo,” begged the man.

  “We’ll put in a good word for you,” said Emilio.

  The man looked at Josh for confirmation.

  Josh nodded reluctantly. “We can’t make any promises, but we’ll do what we can.”

  “Okay.” The man seemed to realize he had few good options. “I tell you.”

  “We’re listening,” said Josh.

  CHAPTER 2

  And when he had opened the second seal, I heard the second beast say, Come and see. And there went out another horse that was red: and power was given to him that sat thereon to take peace from the earth, and that they should kill one another: and there was given unto him a great sword.

  Revelation 6:3-4

  Josh opened the recorder app on his phone and pressed the red button. “Let’s hear it.”

  Still bound to the chair, the man took a deep breath and began talking. “Martyrs will infect themselves with new virus called Sword of Allah. Once they have symptom, they will ride public transportation all day, then go to airports at night.”

  “Where will they fly to?” asked Josh.

  “No. Not necessary to fly. They buy ticket but don’t get on plane. Only go to bars and restaurants in airport. The people they infect will travel all over world.”

  “How many martyrs?” asked Josh.

  “Four,” said the captive.

  “What cities?” Josh listened close.

  “Cincinnati, Tampa, Newark, and Los Angeles.”

  Josh looked at Emilio. “That’s consistent with the locations where you observed activity.” />
  Emilio nodded. “When is this going to happen?”

  “Two weeks from today. Mawlid.”

  “October 18th.” Josh quickly did the math in his head. “What’s that? Mawlid?” he asked the man.

  “It is the prophet’s birthday, according to Sunni tradition.”

  Emilio looked up at Josh. “Sorta like a big piñata for Mohammad.”

  Josh drilled the man for more information. “What kind of virus is this?”

  “I told you, it is Sword of Allah.”

  “Yeah, great. But what does it do? What’s the fatality rate, incubation period, how is it communicated?” Josh raised his voice.

  The man looked away. “I don’t know everything about virus. Only I can tell you that it is very contagious once the infected person becomes symptomatic. Many people will die. The martyrs will be injected next Wednesday by the four Guardians of the Sword. I guess so, incubation period is about five days.”

  “Where is the virus being kept?” asked Emilio.

  “Four vials are being kept with guardians. No one knows where is guardians staying. They will come to martyrs at appointed time.”

  “Okay, then. Where are the martyrs staying?” asked Josh.

  “Only I can give you address of Cincinnati martyr.”

  “What about names? If I show you the names on the phone, can you tell me the martyrs of the other three cities?” Emilio took out the phone.

  The man nodded as if ashamed of how much information he was divulging.

  Josh said, “If we know where the martyrs are next Wednesday, then we know where the guardians will be.” He turned toward the captive. “We’re going to turn you over to someone we trust in Tampa. Continue to cooperate with him, and he’ll do what he can to get you in a decent prison. He’ll also do what he can to make sure your name stays out of everything so King Abdullah doesn’t take revenge on your family.”

  “Thank you.” The man’s response was hollow and defeated.