"What would that serve, Anthony? We are all on the same side here, are we not?"
"I don't know,” MacArthur responded. “I'm still trying to figure out which side you are on. It was you who brought the anti-Christ into the world, after all."
"Gregory, I know we have had our differences throughout the years. I know how much I frustrated you and Ronald. But you must know what I have done I have done because I love God, just as you and Ronald loved Him."
"I just don't understand why you had to bring the anti-Christ into the world. That was reckless,” MacArthur said heatedly.
"It may not be as reckless as you think. This way, we knew who he was. His arrival was inevitable ... and imminent. One way or another, he was going to appear. This way, we were able to identify him. That is an advantage the Council continues to underestimate. We have been able to watch his every move."
"For all the good it will do you. Do not take the Council lightly. It is a most formidable force."
"Nobody knows that better than I do, Gregory. I was a member once."
"What?” The Pope was clearly taken aback by that statement. “What do you mean?"
"I mean exactly what I said. I was once a member of the Council. It was about two hundred years ago, I think."
MacArthur studied Angelino suspiciously. “You're mad!"
"Actually, I'm feeling rather happy, Gregory."
"Don't make jokes, Anthony.” MacArthur's voice rose, attracting the attention of the others in the room. They all grew suddenly quiet, which made MacArthur self conscious.
"Well, I guess this is as good a time as any to fill everyone in,” Angelino said, with a shrug of his shoulders. He addressed the group, and proceeded to recount his history, beginning with his life as Francis. Then he told them about his stint as a member of the Council.
"It was roughly two hundred years ago,” he began. “As you know, that was the so-called ‘Age of Enlightenment,’ which was a primary influence on the formation of the United States. It was a difficult time for the Council. The formidable distance which separates Europe from America impeded its control over the American colonies.
"During that time, I spent an entire lifetime as a member of the Chambleau family. My objective was to become a member of the Council. I played the role of Claude Chambleau. It was tricky, but I was able to convince existing members of the family that I was a lost cousin. In time, I was welcomed by the Chambleau family as one of their own. After many years, I was finally appointed to fill a vacancy on the Council, created by the death of a ‘cousin.’ My purpose was to learn of their methods and their agenda, rather than to influence it, although I was successful in slowing down the Council's influence in the colonies.
"My position on the Council was that of Number Seven, the last and least powerful seat. The frustration over what the Council termed ‘the American problem’ was deep. Between the burgeoning rise of the ‘Age of Enlightenment’ and the remoteness of its location, Americans were becoming a unique people. Virtually all colonists had been born there and any ties they felt to the Mother Country were traditional rather than personal.
"I was able to help accelerate the rising discontent over the treatment of the colonies by the Crown, by arguing for England to exert more and more pressure on them. As power and its application by force appealed to the natural inclinations of the Council, it was not a difficult task to convince it to act in that manner. The Council vastly underestimated the new ideas of the Americans and their power to capture the imagination. The idea of government by the consent of the governed was monumentally revolutionary. Of course, such an idea was dangerous to those accustomed to authority by birthright. The Council mistakenly believed it could crush this idea in its early stages and reclaim philosophical victory over the minds of the colonists.
"Of course, they were clearly wrong in that belief, and I capitalized on it by arguing strongly in favor of it. Under the Council's influence, England began initiating more and more authoritarian policies, among them the Stamp Act and the Tea Tax, which only served to inflame the outrage of leaders like Samuel Adams and Patrick Henry, men of fiery temperament to begin with.
"King George and the Council grew increasingly perplexed at the resistance of the colonies. Army troops were dispatched to Boston and New York, further infuriating the Americans. Things eventually came to a head at Lexington and Concord near Boston, and the rest, as they say, is history. The Council did not recover from this setback until the early part of this century.
"To fight the anti-Christ, a nation in which free thought and expression could flourish was necessary. It was clear to me then the battleground between Christ and anti-Christ would take place in America. But as the Council influence rapidly gained ground in the Twentieth Century, there were moments when I questioned that decision. America was being corrupted by the Council with dazzling speed. The advent of modern communications greatly accelerated its successes. Brilliantly, the Council manipulated the Great Depression, which in turn created the desperate cry for a strong leader. With Franklin Roosevelt, the power of the American presidency began to expand.
"You see, for the Council to dominate and for the anti-Christ to be able to rule, the people must be conditioned to the idea of a strong leader. America had always respected its presidents, but at the same time, usually made sure their powers remained confined. That would have to change, of course, and the process accelerated with the election of Woodrow Wilson, and continues to this day. The President in America rules now more than governs. The so-called ‘consent of the governed’ is fiction. Government enlists big business by buying it off with subsidies and regulations designed to hamper competition. When the people get a little stirred up, the government will ostensibly respond by increasing taxes on businesses, raising the minimum wage, conducting showcase antitrust trials, and other empty gestures which pacify the people. Once the furor dies down, eventually a tax increase is placed on the people, ideally without their knowledge by inflating the currency through the manipulation of monetary policy—hence the importance of the Federal Reserve. Those increased government revenues are then channeled back into the business alliance in the form of increased subsidies or further tax incentives. In this way, government maintains the fiction of being accountable to the people, while in fact being the source of great largess to its corporate allies.
"You will see this pattern being played out throughout the history of the Council-dominated Twentieth Century. Only one vestige of the original design of America remains ... that of the right of the people to speak freely—as long as they don't speak too loud or with too much influence. Voices of individuality are given the apparent ability to be heard, but they are in other ways ridiculed and ostracized by the most powerful ally of the Council, the American press. The government could never get away with arresting those who speak out. However, in recent years, it has gotten much bolder about proposing initiatives which are clearly targeted at weakening the influence of the First Amendment.
"The anti-Christ's day has arrived. He has come in the cleverest of all disguises—within the body and form of the man who manifested the Christ on earth two thousand years ago. As you know, that was engineered by me with the assistance of Steven Hamilton and John Barber, who unwittingly were working for the Council leader, David Warrenger. The astute are aware something is not right with the Jesus who walks among them now, but their conditioning to honor the man himself, rather than the Christ that dwelt within him, has clouded their ability to see the error of their devotion. The Council's conditioning of the peoples’ acceptance of a central authority figure has made this possible.
"The Council has brilliantly created an era of prosperity for the American people. It understands in times of comfort, people are unwilling to upset the applecart. Indeed, they will often support or pretend to ignore even the most despicable acts by their leaders, as long as they just leave them alone to enjoy their prosperity. The anti-Christ could not have asked for a more agreeable world in which
to enter, thrive and prosper."
Everyone was clearly entranced by this rendering of Council history, abridged as it was. MacArthur once more was being assaulted with information that simply overwhelmed him. His face wore an expression of bewilderment. Angelino was Francis of Assisi? That simply was not possible. Saint Francis lived eight hundred years ago. He had known Angelino virtually all his life, had seen him grow older, had watched as he moved from gawky young adulthood to maturity. This simply could not be!
Angelino sat down beside him and placed a hand gently on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, my old friend. You have had to face more disturbing information in a short period of time than any one man should have to endure. I would have much preferred to ease you into all of this, but there is no time for that."
"You were Francis?” Angelino nodded. “But how...?” MacArthur stopped himself in mid-sentence and fell back in his chair, shaking his head in wonderment. “So then, Father O'Brien knew you were a Knight of the Ascension. He was not showing favoritism toward you like I always believed."
"Yes, Gregory. I was not his student. He was mine. But when the Council had him eliminated, I had no choice but to remain and take up his work. There was no time to train another."
"All this time, I thought that you were the biggest sonofabitch to ever join the Church. Why did you continue to let me believe that?"
"What else could I do? The existence of the Knights had to remain secret until now."
"Eight-hundred years,” MacArthur sighed with awe.
"Gregory, the power of God is without limit. To know the full nature of God in one lifetime is a formidable undertaking. You have had but one lifetime in which to discover that nature. I had an advantage you and others do not have. Someday, perhaps I will be able to tell you more, but for now I ask you to overcome the conditioning of your mind and listen to the voice of God which dwells in your heart. My mission here is almost complete. Susan Morgan will need your strength. She will face difficult challenges. Raji will be here for her, but she will not be able to hide here in Indore forever. She will have to venture back into the secular world and she will need people she can trust. Can I count on you, Gregory?"
"I don't understand what you are saying, Anthony. Your mission here is complete? What does that mean?"
Angelino faced him without responding to his question.
"I need to know I can count on you, Gregory."
"I don't know, Anthony,” MacArthur said with some frustration. “I don't even know what is going on here half the time.” He sighed with resignation. “I'm an old man, Anthony, long past his prime. I'm tired.” He grew thoughtful. “When did it all pass me by?"
Angelino looked at his old schoolmate with compassion in his eyes. “I know how hard all of this has been for you.” He patted MacArthur's hand warmly. “These are difficult times for Mankind. No one is going to be untouched by the dramatic changes the world is about to undergo."
"I just don't know if I'm up to it, Anthony.” Sadness filled the Pope's eyes.
"Gregory!” Angelino said with a firmness that startled MacArthur. “You pledged your life to the service of God nearly fifty years ago. You have been fortunate. You have not had to endure many hardships in your rise to the papacy. It has all been pretty smooth sailing for you. The worst challenge you have had was me.” He smiled wryly and then continued. “Now it is time to find out how deeply your pledge to serve God was. The measure of a man is determined by the size of the obstacles he can overcome. Small men overcome small obstacles; great men, great obstacles. Serving God has never been a walk in the park, Gregory. In the coming days, things will get harder, not easier. I will not pretend it will be otherwise, for you or anyone else."
He looked deeply into MacArthur's eyes and said, “Your God needs you now, more than he ever did when you sat in the Vatican. I hope you will be able to come to that conclusion for yourself, in time."
Angelino left MacArthur's side and said the others, “We must leave in the morning. There are two more Knights to gather. It is time.” With that, he stepped outside into the cool evening air.
* * * *
HAROLD BENNETT HAD known political defeat many times in his thirty-year career, as he had also known victory. Never before had he felt a defeat so deeply as that which he now faced. The New York Times lay strewn across the floor of his Washington apartment. The headline, “JESUS INITIATIVE PASSED 98-0 BY SENATE,” gloated at him from the front page. They had taken the vote without him. He had done his best and failed. Now, all he could do was hope his fears were unfounded.
A knock at the door shook him from his reverie. He opened it to find Ray and Arnold. Ray produced a bottle of Jim Beam.
"We thought you might need some company, Harold,” Ray said with a friendly smile. “Care to join us?"
Harold smiled in spite of himself as Ray and Arnold stepped past him and headed toward the kitchen. He had come to regard them both as honorable men and good friends. He was glad they had shown up.
They emerged from the kitchen with three glasses. Ray filled each halfway and passed them out.
"To the end of civilization as we know it,” he said, raising his glass in a mock toast. The two raised their glasses automatically in response and each took a long drink.
"Do you really think it's that grim, Ray?” Harold asked
"Don't you, Senator?"
"I keep praying I'm wrong. I want to believe this is a bad dream and that I'll wake up with a sigh of relief."
"Oh, it's a bad dream, alright,” Arnold said. “But there won't be any waking up from it, I'm afraid."
Harold gestured for them to sit down.
"Any news on the Israeli situation?” he asked.
"Well, you know the panel found the documents presented by the Syrian ambassador to be authentic. Prime Minister Sahrat protested, but it was to no avail. The UN issued a formal condemnation of Israel and ordered it to withdraw its troops immediately. Sahrat angrily stormed out of the chamber in protest. Now there have been unconfirmed reports of shots being fired over the Israeli-Syrian border. It's getting ugly. Some of the reporters on my staff seem to feel an all out war is imminent."
Harold absorbed the news thoughtfully. So, suddenly a region which had been relatively quiet sat poised for war. How quickly things can change, he mused to himself. “You know,” he said, “we should have seen all of this coming."
"How do you figure that, Harold?” Arnold asked. “How could we have anticipated Jesus being cloned?"
"Well, we couldn't have anticipated that, but we certainly should have seen the time was ripe for a demagogue to come on the scene. The way the public let Crowley slide repeatedly despite the clear evidence he was a scoundrel should have been a big clue. We've been on a collision course with despotism for quite a while now. The day of reckoning is now upon us, it seems."
"But what if everybody is right and we're wrong?” Ray offered. “I mean, maybe we're throwbacks. Maybe the era of the individual is over and we are meant to move into a more collective society?"
"You can't really believe that, Ray,” Harold said heatedly.
Ray swirled the ice in his glass for a moment. “No, I guess I don't. Like you, I'm just trying to make some sense out of all of this."
"Let's not forget who Jesus is, gentlemen,” Arnold reminded them. “We have the anti-Christ running the show now. There's no way anybody is going to tell me following him is the way society is meant to go. Let's not give up here."
"You're right, Arnold,” Harold responded. “I'm not giving up. I'm just worn out and tired. I haven't slept much since all of this began and I'm totally at a loss as to how to fight something like this. I mean, how the hell do you fight the anti-Christ?"
"I guess you fight the anti-Christ with the Christ,” Ray said wryly.
Harold looked up at him. “I suppose. Now, what's keeping him?"
* * * *
THE ROOM WAS pitch dark, except for one solitary black candle that burned in the ce
nter of the room. Jesus sat in deep meditation. He was growing stronger as hatreds grew in the Middle East. The delicious dark energy of fear and hate caressed him. Yes, it was growing stronger. Soon it would be unstoppable ... very soon.
He emptied his mind and brought forth an image. In thought, he held the vision of an Israeli rocket launcher. The picture clarified. Sitting beside it, smoking a cigarette, was the soldier charged with firing the missile. Soon the image became so clear Jesus could feel the very same breeze the soldier felt, the very same heat from the sun the soldier felt. His consciousness honed in on the rocket launcher itself.
* * * *
IT WAS HOT, but not as hot as Corporal David Greenberg knew it could get in the desert. There was not much more to do then smoke cigarettes, and Corporal Greenberg produced one from the half-empty pack he kept in his shirt pocket. He lit it and took a slow, deep drag off of it. A light breeze blew against his skin, cooling him as it evaporated the sweat from his brow. Suddenly, he felt someone standing behind him. He turned quickly to look. No one was there. Getting jumpy, he told himself with an inward smile. It was the waiting that did that. You began to imagine things alone out in the desert. His Commanders had given them clear and unequivocal orders: Do not fire unless fired upon, and then, only with a direct order from your Commander.
It happened too fast to register. Corporal Greenberg could not believe it was happening. From behind him his missile launcher fired on its own.
"What the hell?” He jumped up and ran back to the launcher. No one was there. He looked up into the sky and watched the trail from the Tomahawk missile grow as the trajectory arced eastward. He stared in disbelief and horror. If the missile was heading toward its programmed target....
His field phone rang next to him. He knew the Lieutenant would be on the other end. He picked it up.
"What the hell is going on there, Soldier?” the voice screamed at him through the comlink. “Who gave you the order to fire?"
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