by Alana Terry
Seeking Refuge
Precarious Yates
Chautona Havig
Jennifer Crosswhite
Traci Wooden-Carlisle
Alana Terry
© 2019 Seeking Refuge: A GraceReads Christian Suspense Collection
The individual titles of this collection remain the intellectual property of the author and are used by permission in this collection.
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The events and people in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual people is purely coincidental
Fonts: Garamond, Eras Medium, Charcoal CY, Alex Brush, Eterea Pro
Cover photos: snvv/depositphotos.com
Cover Art: Chautona Havig
Table of Contents
Seeking Refuge
The Elite of the Weak,
Part 1
Chapter 1: The Packet
Chapter 2: Minister of Justice
Chapter 3: The Chase
Chapter 4: Evidence
Chapter 5: Such a Time as This
Chapter 6: Debrief and Dinosaurs
Chapter 7: Assignment and Departure
Chapter 8: Early Graduation
Chapter 9: The Phone Call
Chapter 10: Need to Know Basis
Chapter 11: Kelley’s Diner
Chapter 12: Paradigm Shift at NoCaHoP
Chapter 13: Priscilla
Chapter 14: Icebreakers and Blessedness
Chapter 15: Hyun
Chapter 16: Christina
Chapter 17: The Missing
Chapter 18: Paul
Chapter 19: Jealousy
Part 2
Chapter 20: The Lighthouse
Chapter 21: Classified Lessons
Chapter 22: Jumps
Chapter 23: Bridal Paradigm
Chapter 24: A Visit from Mom
Chapter 25: Preparing for the Philippines
Part 3
Chapter 26: Operation Double-edged Sword
Chapter 27: The Midnight Swim
Chapter 28: First Reunion
Chapter 29: Operation Patient Endurance
Chapter 30: “Sir, are we in heaven?”
Chapter 31: Navigating the Way
Chapter 32: Resort
Chapter 33: Confessions
Chapter 34: All the Options
Chapter 35: Operation White Stone
Chapter 36: The Recording
Chapter 37: Plans and Tunnels
Chapter 38: La Bestia Alata
Chapter 39: The Device
Chapter 40: The Rescue
Chapter 41: Aftermath
Chapter 42: Interrogated
Chapter 43: Separated
Chapter 44: Zach
Chapter 45: Jerusalem
From the Author
Manuscript for Murder
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter-25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
From the Author
Promise Me
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
From the Author
Missing Destiny
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Epilogue
From the Author
Frost Heaves
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
From the Author
The Elite of the Weak,
Book 1 of Revelation Special Ops
Precarious Yates
© 2011 UNDER MY PEN name Precarious Yates.
Edited by assistant English Professor Nicole Cober-Lake.
Cover © 2011 Wayne Roulez, Roulez Photography
Scripture verses taken from:
THE HOLY Bible, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®, NIV® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author.
Dedication
To my sister Amanda, and to Olivia, you inspire me more than you know.
To Shoshanna, and to the Lilies: you know who you are...
Part 1
GOD CHOSE THE WEAK things of the world to shame the strong. ~ Paul (1 Corinthians 1:27)
New York City, NY, USA
Sometime in the near future, maybe five years from now, maybe twenty-five.
Chapter 1: The Packet
WITH A SMILE AS WIDE as the Brooklyn Bridge, Hadassah skipped down the steps outside the house of
prayer and wove through the crowds to the subway station. She hoped to make it to the F line in time. And before any new earthquakes hit. Her heart pattered. Coffee with Dad on Thursday afternoons was her favorite, but she never let her excitement show. Not like this. With the packet in her arms, she knew what she had to say as soon as she got home. She needed the excitement to keep her on course, no matter what argument he brought up.
Wisps of her black hair tangled in her eyelashes. She didn’t dare let go of the packet, not even to get these hairs out of her face, so she blew them away. Why did I forget my hairpin? Mom’s right—I shouldn’t leave the house without it. Another strong breeze, hot as the rest of the air around her, whipped through corridors made by the skyscrapers and pushed her along.
Crowds swelled. They always did at this time of day in New York, and every face carried a flicker of fear. The earthquakes never caused significant damage, but each quake felt like labor pains growing more and more intense. After all, this was New York, not California, and quakes weren’t supposed to be an issue. But earthquakes were happening everywhere. So much for feeling safe on the East Coast.
She ducked her head and rushed to the shadow of the nearest skyscraper, hoping to hide from the searing sun as she made for the subway station. The shade brought no relief. With humidity this high everyone sweat, including the business women in flawless attire. And everyone wore the same fatigued and stressed look—stocks must have plummeted again. That would make the ninth business day in a row.
But Hadassah couldn’t think about this—not now.
Hugging the packet in her arms a little tighter, she recalled every detail of its contents, glancing at its frayed edges. She never felt this confident, except about her love for Yeshua and for her parents. In her fervor, she scraped her thumbnail against the tip of her index finger while she waited for the train. The possibility that Dad wouldn’t give his blessing whispered at the edges of her exhilaration, but she hushed this away.
All the training from Mom flooded her as she hopped across the gap from the subway platform into the car. Perfect balance, even when jostled by a large man in a blue silk suit.
As soon as Dad learns about Revelation Special Ops, he has to give his blessing. She bounced on the balls of her feet and gripped the metal bar as the subway car jolted back and forth. A sea of faces around me, and I’m sure not one of them can guess what put this smile on my face. But they must wonder. No one smiles on the F line.
When she walked through the door of her apartment, Dad looked up from the sea of books on the dining room table, his face glowing at the sight of hers.
“Haddy! Shalom!” He stood. “I love seeing you sparkle like this. What a gift you give to the world. I can’t wait to hear what has you so happy. But—” He raised his hand just as she opened her mouth to blurt the news. “Coffee first.”
“Do we have any Ethiopian blend left in the freezer?” she asked, still bouncing on the balls of her feet.
“I’ve already prepped the machine, all I need to do is press start.”
“You mean you’ve made the coffee all by yourself?”
“Oy, vey! Seeing as I’m your favorite chef, I figured you’d trust my coffee making skills again.”
“That pot you measured and brewed last year was proverbially undrinkable.”
“Oy yoi yoi! I followed the directions this time. Besides, I know how to make coffee. If you remember, I was born before the press-two-buttons-and-it’s-done machines, back in the days when we always measured water and grinds and fiddled with filters.”
“It’s okay, Dad, you don’t have to remind me that you’re old.” She grinned and threw her arms around his shoulders, pressing her cheek against his ear. “How was the Rabbi’s day?”
He shrugged. “Cerebral.” Then he smiled again. “But blessed. All the research is done for my trip to the Middle East this winter, and now I can work on my sermon for Shabbat.”
“What are you gonna preach on?” She popped a grape into her mouth and sat upon a stool at the counter while she listened.
“First John. Abba Father’s perfect love casting out our fears. I’ll be preaching to myself since we’re sending you off to Liberia the next day.”
In all her excitement about the packet she had forgotten. She was going to Africa for three weeks to work in the orphanage their congregation sponsored while her friends Isabella and Danny picked up their soon to be adopted daughter. “That’s a great topic to prepare us, Dad.”
He poured two mugs before taking a seat at the counter beside her. “Okay. Now you can tell me what this packet is all about. I’ve held my peace ever since the envelope arrived yesterday. Then you were gone before I woke this morning.”
Hadassah sighed, pressing her lips together. “I know it’s unconventional, Dad, but I want to do it. I feel like I was made for this.” She slid the envelope to him. “Ever since you had Mack MacArthur come to the church four months ago, I can’t think about anything else. All those kids sold as slaves across the globe—it’s horrible!”
“I know, Haddy. I think about it a lot, too, so does your mom.” As he opened the contents of the envelope his eyebrows narrowed at the “CONFIDENTIAL” stamp on the top and subsequent pages.
“Whenever I thought about what happens to children sold as slaves, I wanted to hit something. Or someone. You know me, Dad, nothing stirs my emotions—not like this. I felt like a fire had been lit within my bones. The fire is still there, stronger than ever, but I feel such peace now too.”
His lips pursed, and his forehead wrinkled as he read.
After a few minutes of trying to interpret his expression, all the while hoping it would change, she asked, “Can I apply?”
He looked up at her. “You’re only sixteen, Hadassah.”
“I’ll be seventeen in two and a half weeks.”
“The training starts in January; you don’t graduate until June.”
“I know, but I was going to talk to the principal about that since I’ll have completed all my requirements by December.”
“If anyone talks to your principal, it’ll be your mom or me. You are more independent than any sixteen-year-old—”
“Seventeen.”
“Still, let me be your dad a little while longer.”
“You’ll always be my dad. But I know I’m made for this. Think of all the self-defense lessons Mom has given me for how many years now? Both of you have trained me to take care of myself.”
He rubbed his forehead with his fingertips and sighed. “Have you talked to your mother about this?”
“I was going to tonight. I just... I wanted to talk to you first because I have a feeling Mom will say yes.”
“I do, too.”
“Will you?”
Their coffee cups began to rattle on the counter, and they stared at them until the rattling stopped. She rested her eyes and mind in a long blink then took a deep breath. Dad glanced at her knowingly.
He looked through the packet further. “Huh. It’s connected with Ronny Gibbons in Greensboro.”
Ronny Gibbons was one of his favorite teachers. Her smile returned. “If you look at the fourth page, they discuss their guiding principles.”
He raised his eyebrows as he stared at the page. “I know. I’m looking at those right now.”
“They teach the exact same things you do, that the church will be on the earth during the tribulation and we need to prepare now. I love the quote there about preparing.”
“I see the one you mean, ‘We’ll prepare ourselves, not by stockpiling weapons, but by building our relationship with God through watching and praying—’”
“‘—We’ll prepare by setting our faces like flint, to love no matter the cost. We’ll prepare by partnering with Jesus to release the oppressed from their bonds of slavery. The greater the darkness across the world the brighter the light of Christ will shine through us.’ Isn’t that awesome, Dad? It sounds like one of your sermons.”
“It also sounds like
Ronny Gibbons. I like what they say about recruiting the elite of the weak.”
With a bittersweet smile, Hadassah quoted it from memory. “‘Weak because of a broken heart for the slaves and hostages around the world, and weak because the plight of one person is significant enough.’ That’s what convinced me I want to be a part of Revelation Special Ops.”
“Do you think you’ll have the stamina for the training? It says it’ll be similar to the Marines or the CIA.” Then he rolled his eyes and shook his head. “I forget who I’m talking to, of course you’ll have the stamina. And the ability to get into and out of—what did they say here?—high security facilities.” He rolled his eyes again and sighed. “You’re just like your mother.”
She grinned. “I know. Does that mean I can go?”
“That means I’ll consider it. I want to talk it over with your mother. She may want you working with her instead since she does similar work here in the City.”
“When I was in the prayer room a few months back, praying about this problem of young girls sold as prostitutes, I wept for three solid hours.”
“I remember.”
“I couldn’t tell if it was rage or God’s own tears boiling inside me. And you know me, Dad, I never cry.”
“I know.”
“That was the night I found out about Revelation Special Ops. To this day, I don’t remember who told me, but I knew it felt right.”
“And I’m still considering it, but I don’t think I can say ‘yes’ yet.”
DINNER WAS FILLED WITH all the parental concern Hadassah had hoped to avoid.
Mom’s years with the Mossad, the Israeli foreign intelligence, left her permanently scarred with skepticism. “It doesn’t give a contact name, just an address.” She set the packet down on the table beside her plate and stared at her food. “Whoever this is, he’s former intelligence.” She shook her head, took a small sip of her Kosher wine and looked up again. “I’m not saying no, but I won’t have you send in an application based on mere feelings.”
Hadassah swallowed her marzipan cookie before she finished chewing, then chased it with a swig of water. “That’s fair. I guess I can understand.”
“Let’s see how things go in Liberia first. We’ll talk about sending off this application when you get back.” She gave the quickest flash of a smile Hadassah had ever seen.
Dad grinned as if he read his wife’s thoughts. “What is it?”