He could already hear the unborn children crying out to him from the grave for justice. The very thought caused his temper to go from zero to mach speed in the blink of an eye.
They ruined my week-long celebration!
This was the second time his enemies had tried ruining his plans. First it was the failed sneak attack on Israel. Now this, on Universal Children’s Day? Whereas what happened in Israel was a coalition of many nations, this was a coordinated attack carried out by Muslims only, and no other demographic.
On the failed attack on Israel, their goal was to kill many Jews. Had they succeeded on that front, Romanero would have silently rejoiced. But the attack on the West placed many who did matter to him in the path of their destruction: pregnant women.
He looked up at the ceiling, “Why didn’t you warn me in advance?” he shouted to his master, feeling completely betrayed. “The world expects me to be omniscient, especially after the earthquakes miracle! Some may now question my deity again for not seeing this coming? How could you let this happen to me?”
The fact that Satan was his master, but certainly not his Maker, meant Romanero should have been looking downward instead of up when communicating with Satan.
The final straw was when Romanero watched one of the “last testament” videos made by a now-dead terrorist. He said, “Every hardship we face is but a test of our faith and an example of our ceaseless dedication to Allah. It’s the duty of every Muslim to defend the brotherhood of Islam.
“While we expect mass retaliation for our actions, we will not fear. Our lack of fear is what unites us and divides you. In the end, our fate doesn’t rest with Salvador Romanero or the infidel world he is creating, but in the hands of Allah. To Allah alone be the glory!”
The comforting glow that was on Romanero’s face all day was replaced with a fury that was mostly dormant up to this point. The Miracle Maker wanted blood!
An hour later, Romanero appeared on live television. Gone was the total elation everyone saw on his face a few short hours ago, after the first child was born.
Without greeting anyone he said, “The attack carried out on the West a few hours ago was done in the name of the Islamic religion. The so-called infidels they massacred were our precious citizens! I’m told as many as one-million unborn children were among those killed at their hands!
“Now Muslims everywhere will pay for their actions. For every person they killed, three Muslims must die! And for every pregnant woman they killed, a thousand Muslims must die! If I must kill every-last Muslim on the planet to finally bring those who did this to justice, I will do it!”
“Since the next generation will be our torchbearers, nothing can be more important than protecting life in the womb! It’s with that in mind that I wish to announce an international law abolishing abortion. From this point forward, anyone caught in the act will be punished by death. This includes doctors, nurses, and all who are deemed enablers and supporters.”
“Further, anyone causing harm to a child already born must die. No exceptions! This universal law supersedes the laws of all countries, including dissident countries. May all who are with me be blessed in my name...”
Within minutes of Romanero’s universal declaration, Islamic mosques, universities, and religious training centers were being set ablaze by fire. Anyone found inside those buildings were ordered outside then killed by firing squad.
This was only the beginning...
48
TEN DAYS AFTER THE ATTACK ON AMERICA
AS IT TURNED OUT, the only silver lining found behind the dark cloud that had invaded America was that no radiation clouds were registered anywhere in the U.S.
After ten straight days of constant testing and not finding a single trace of radiation in the capital city, the President and First Lady were cleared to return to Washington.
President Danforth considered it a minor miracle that they were able to outsmart so many in the U.S. Government, and the media, by making them think he was in Colorado all this time when, in reality, he was only 50 miles away from the White House.
The President was notified by Vice President Everett Ashford that the First Lady had boarded Air Force One and would be en route back to Washington in a matter of minutes.
The ten days spent apart from each other was the longest Jefferson and Melissa Danforth had gone since their college days.
They yearned to see each other again.
Because the world thought the Danforths were together out West, and with two shadow governments in place, communication between them the past ten days was kept to a bare minimum. Even the most secure lines couldn’t be trusted at this time.
As it turned out, President Danforth wasn’t alone underground. The adjoining sub-terrain shelter was already full of ETSM and AFK members when he arrived. Shock filled their faces when he made a surprise visit and explained to them what had just transpired on their side of the planet.
Upon learning that more than 30,000,000 American citizens were killed, and another 70,000,000 were killed all throughout the Western Hemisphere—totaling 100,000,000 human beings—there were many gasps, followed by tears and deep grieving.
Their mood only worsened when they were told they might be stranded underground an additional three weeks.
Everyone was relieved when President Danforth—who made sure to spend a few minutes with them each day to update them—explained ten days later that the air outside was finally safe and they could leave the underground bunker.
After personally witnessing the last busload of passengers escorted from the mountain and taken to their vehicles, the President returned to his sub-terrain location, to meet with National Security Adviser Nelson Casanieves and Joint Chief of Staff, William Messersmith.
Afterward, all three would drive back to Joint Base Andrews together. When Air Force One landed, the real President would already be on board Marine One waiting for Melissa and the President’s body double.
Upon landing on the White House South Lawn, the real First Family would enter the White House together, as the President’s body double remained on board the chopper.
This final underground meeting was centered on the handful of military options they were considering. While everyone was in agreement they had to retaliate, the question was where could they possibly strike? Thanks to Salvador Romanero, many of the countries in which the perpetrators had lived already lay in ruins.
There was a knock on the door. “Who’s there?”
“Sir, it’s Agent Sullivan. I need to speak to you. It’s urgent...”
“Come in, Sullivan...”
Agent Sullivan entered the room with an expression on his face that brought President Danforth straight back to Camp David. He was the same agent who informed him that people were missing on the day of the disappearances, and that his mother had died of a heart attack. What he saw on the secret serviceman’s face nearly stopped his heart from beating.
“What is it Agent Sullivan?”
“Sir, there was an explosion on board Air Force One over Kansas.”
President Danforth gasped, then blinked hard. “Primary or decoy?”
“Primary, Sir,” said Agent Sullivan, closing his eyes and slowly shaking his head.
For security purposes, whenever the President of the United States of America took to the skies on Air Force One, an exact replica accompanied the President’s plane, to throw any potential danger off his scent, so to speak. Hence, the decoy...
“Oh, no!” cried the President. “What kind of explosion?”
“Don’t know, Sir, but it appears to have been an inside job. The fact that there was no evidence of vapor trails coming from the ground or in the air means the bomb was most likely detonated from inside the plane. This points to an obvious security breach in Denver.”
President Danforth closed his eyes. Panic rose in his voice, “Were they able to safely land the plane?”
Agent Sullivan dropped his head. “It crashed to the ground soon
after the explosion. It’s believed everyone on board was killed. I’m sorry, Sir.”
This can’t be! The President buried his face in his hands and sobbed uncontrollably. “Not my Melissa.” The room grew eerily silent until Jefferson Danforth said, “Take me back to the White House immediately!”
“You can’t go there, Sir,” Vice President Everett Ashford implored. “At least not until we think things through. Everyone thinks you were in Colorado with the First Lady.” He paused. “Mister President, if this was an inside job as it appears, it means there’s a coordinated effort to, well...you know...”
“The Vice President’s right, Sir,” Agent Sullivan said. “For now, the V.P. needs to get back to Washington immediately. Until your fate has been confirmed one way or the other, the appropriate measures must be taken for the continuity of government.” Seeing his boss lower his head and shrug his shoulders, Agent Sullivan felt like weeping. “I’m sorry, Sir, but that’s how it must be for now.”
The room grew silent again. The anguish on President Danforth’s face had little to do with the fact that his days as President of the United States may have just ended.
That wasn’t it at all. It all came down to the seven words he kept hearing in two separate dreams before coming to faith in Christ: This is your last shot at redemption...
Only this time it was eight words and they were now past tense: You missed your last shot at redemption, Melissa...
The President wept uncontrollably again...
49
ELEVEN DAYS LATER
AFTER BEING LOCKED DOWN in total isolation for 21 straight days, the thousands of jihadists responsible for the widespread carnage in America were ready to carry out their next round of attacks on the Great Satan.
Forbidden from making contact with anyone while in hiding, they were totally unaware of the widespread carnage their actions had created on Universal Children’s Day.
Upon hearing that more than 20,000,000 Americans had died as a result of the quarter-million toxic packages they had placed all across America, they rejoiced.
When they heard another 10,000,000 American infidels were killed by the explosions, they saluted their fallen comrades who blew themselves to pieces for the cause.
When they heard another 70,000,000 had died in all other Western Hemisphere countries, they praised Allah with everything that was in them for delivering overwhelming victory into their hands.
A hundred-million infidels dead at their hands...
What more could they ask for?
Would they even need that many slaves in the afterlife?
Their mood quickly soured after seeing footage of millions of their Muslim brothers and sisters being dragged out of homes, mosques, universities, and even out of prisons—starting the day of the explosions—and killed by firing squad.
The news hit them hard. They expected serious blow back for their actions, but this was beyond the scope of anything imagined.
The more they watched the more enraged they became.
When they saw the file footage of Salvador Romanero ordering the killing of three Muslims for every infidel killed, and a thousand Muslims for every pregnant woman killed that day, they were incensed like never before.
When Romanero declared if every last Muslim on the planet had to be killed to finally bring those who did this to justice, they shook their fists toward heaven, crying, “Salvador Romanero is the devil incarnate!”
They were even more determined to carry out Phase Four. They prayed without ceasing that Allah would bless this next wave of attacks on the Great Satan.
They left their hiding places and piled into passenger vans with tinted windows. Now that Romanero had declared war on Muslims everywhere, they wore protective gear to conceal their identities.
If seen out in public, they would be shot and killed on the spot.
The last man out of each hideout struck a match and lit a fuse which slowly made its way to the kerosene-coated walls.
From there, they firebombed many other houses in America’s largest cities. It didn’t take long before thousands of buildings were engulfed in flames all across the United States of America.
This coordinated “Scorched Earth” campaign—scorched America to be more precise—would honor the fallen heroes of flight 93 whose efforts fell short when brave Americans stormed the cockpit and crashed the plane in a field in Pennsylvania, thus curtailing the terrorists’ efforts.
With firefighters stretched to the limits battling numerous blazes nationwide, these terrorists roamed the American countryside looking to cause as much death and destruction as they possibly could, before being caught in the act and forever silenced for their efforts.
With chemical-laden bombs hidden beneath the protective gear they wore, they would go out with one last bang, hopefully taking even more infidels with them in the process.
With their home cities in ruins and so many slaves awaiting them in paradise, these brave soldiers were more eager to leave this world than ever before and be ushered into paradise.
And what better slaves to have in the afterlife than Americans?
Or so they thought...
What they would learn upon slipping into eternity was the wretched place to which they would be sent wouldn’t be paradise. Nor would they be welcomed warmly as heroes. There would be no slaves to serve them in the afterlife.
No friends.
No allies.
Only suffering.
They would also learn the man they hated more than any other back on Planet Earth—Salvador Romanero—actually served the same master as them.
Eternally speaking, they were on the same side all along.
Even worse, they would learn the god they worshiped was merely Satan in disguise, and the prophet Mohammad they faithfully served was nothing more than one of the Master Deceiver’s many false prophets used to deceive humanity.
If their souls had skin upon learning this, it would crawl or shrivel up, seeing the false prophet Mohammad cowering, begging all who followed his teachings to repent of their sins and trust in Jesus before it was too late; not out of compassion for them, but because those who died following his false teachings would heap even more judgment upon his soul.
For all Muslims sent to that dreadful place, the false prophet they loved and venerated back on Earth would be someone they would detest for all eternity, even more than the so-called infidels they were bent on killing back on Earth. This hatred would only intensify as the ages passed without end.
To hear the desperation in their fraudulent leader’s voice echoing throughout the deepest chambers of hell, would cause them to hate him even more...
Only those now executing Phase Four back on Earth couldn’t hear his desperate cries. All they had were the written words the false prophet had left for them to follow; words that would ultimately lead to their eternal destruction. The moment they breathed their last in human form, the torment would begin.
Without mercy, they would share the very same fearful expectation of judgment and eternal fire as every other condemned soul sent there. The wrath of God would burn against them forevermore. Only they would never die.
Totally blinded to what awaited them on the other side they marched on, hellbent on killing millions of more Americans, not knowing they were being duped by Satan all along, disguising himself as the god they called Allah...
MEANWHILE, IN JERUSALEM, THE number of Jews sitting under the direct tutelage of the Two Witnesses had grown exponentially. Despite the many Jews cramming the Western Wall to protest against the two men, this group of young virgin Jewish men listened very carefully to everything they had to say.
These were the first of the 144,000 prophesied in the Book of Revelation, who would soon be responsible for leading a multitude that no one could number from every nation, tribe, people and tongue to faith in Christ Jesus.
Only they didn’t yet know it...
50
FOR NINE MONTHS CHELSEA Mulrooney did
her best to cope in this strange new world. Nothing worked.
Even the online community she was part of—virtual friends she spent copious amounts of time with—couldn’t pull her out of the rut she felt trapped in. How could they possibly help her when they were just as lost themselves? As it was, suicide frequently came up during their chats.
With her family in shambles and the planet crumbling all around her, as a last-ditch effort, Chelsea thought that perhaps seeing children again would rescue her out of this rut and give her a reason to feel hopeful again.
When Salvadora Patel was born, Chelsea’s spirit soared with the rest of the world. For a brief-moment, she even saw a bright future in the eyes of an innocent child. It was enough to convince the divorced woman that she should have a child of her own.
All she had to do was find the right man. Even though most women cared so little about who impregnated them, Chelsea wasn’t the type to sleep with just anyone. She wasn’t wired that way.
But the thought of living vicariously through someone she could actually bring into the world outweighed the fact that she was a divorced woman who hadn’t been on a date in years.
When a chat mate from Sweden offered to impregnate her, Chelsea seriously considered traveling there for that very reason.
The very thought filled her with hope again. She felt energized and wanted to start living her life again.
She even planned on going to the fireworks festivities in New York City, to celebrate new life with everyone else, but she fell asleep and woke up just as it was starting.
Watching America falling under attack on her TV screen took all the wind out of her sails again. Not only that, it convinced her that her brother, Brian, was right on at least one front: life wouldn’t get better on Planet Earth, only worse!
The long and winding road the youngest Mulrooney family member had traveled on all those months now felt more like a grave with both ends kicked out.
The Countdown Begins Page 33