by Mark Romang
His hands still linked together in handcuffs, Brennan watched the sniper nearest him. Each time Brennan saw the marksman peer through his scope-mounted rifle, a piece of him died. They intended to kill Andrew Maddix, not arrest him. Maddix’s past as a Navy SEAL frightened them too much to consider any other option. They viewed him as a dangerous threat that needed to be terminated before a firefight ensued.
What a waste. The world will lose a good man today, Brennan thought as he looked out the open door. The fog was thick as pea soup. Fog and rain hampered infrared cameras. But would it be enough to hide Maddix from those hunting him? He didn’t think so.
Brennan turned to Nick Loomis. He sensed the FBI agent was a good man at his core. He wasn’t anything like his brutish partner. Agent Shank enjoyed being a jerk, and was quick to tell you his viewpoint was the only one that mattered.
Brennan had been around men like Shank before. They usually suffered from low self-esteem and had to build themselves up by tearing others down. But agent Loomis seemed a decent sort, even reasonable. Maybe Brennan could plant some doubt into his head. “This weather is getting dangerous to fly in, Nick. You better call off the search until later in the day when the fog clears. We’ll all die if this bird crashes,” he said into Loomis’s ear. Shank and Loomis didn’t wear the radio headsets like everyone else on board. Their secondary role in the operation wouldn’t start until after Maddix was either dead or captured.
“Are you scared, Caleb?”
“I am scared, Nick. We’re going to crash in these hills. We’re out in the middle of nowhere. Hardly anyone lives out here. There are no house lights or street lights to help the pilot. How is he going to tell which way is up and which way is down in this fog?”
“He’s an experienced pilot, Caleb. We’ll be fine.”
“I’m just saying it would be easier to find Maddix in the daylight, and we wouldn’t be risking a crash.”
Agent Shank touched Brennan’s leg. “We wait until daylight and Maddix will give us the slip. We’re not stupid, Caleb.”
“Nick isn’t stupid. But I don’t know about you, Shank.”
Loomis grinned. “Caleb, do you want to come clean and tell us why you helped Maddix, why you gave him and Sara new identities and flew them down here to New Zealand. It might help your case to tell us everything.”
Brennan sighed. He didn’t know whether he should continue his tightlipped silence or spill his guts. Either way a jail cell awaited him. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“There’s only one way to find out, Caleb,” Loomis said.
“Maddix is special. He’s going to do something that will help the world, or more specifically, God’s people.”
“Are you saying Maddix is some kind of savior?”
Brennan shook his head. “The Savior has already come. I don’t know what Maddix is going to do. But it’s all part of some ancient prophecy.”
Eric Shank burst out laughing. “You’re right, we don’t believe you,” Shank said between laughs.
Loomis asked calmly, “What gives you the impression Maddix is going to do something on a grand scale that will affect the world?”
“My mother told me ten years ago before she died.”
Agent Shank laughed so hard tears rolled down his face. “You’re a piece of work, Brennan. You really are.”
Brennan turned his back on Shank and addressed Loomis. “My mother suffered from schizophrenia. She often told us she heard voices. She spent a lot of time in psychiatric hospitals while I grew up. Once I reached sixteen she was institutionalized permanently. My dad basically raised me and my sister himself.
“Once I entered the service I didn’t hear from my mom for a long time. But then when I became a SEAL instructor she started mailing letters to me everyday. The letters always contained the same message. My mom wrote that God was going to send me a young man named Andrew Maddix. I was to train him harder than any other SEAL candidate because God was going to use Andrew in a mighty way to fulfill an ancient prophecy.
“It got to where I stopped opening the letters and simply threw them away. This went on for years; day after day a letter would arrive from my mom saying the same thing. And then one day I received a new group of SEAL candidates to train. Andrew Maddix was among them.” Brennan took in a deep breath. “I think it’s safe to say this wasn’t a coincidence.”
“Is she still writing you the letters?”
Brennan shook his head. “She died shortly after Maddix arrived at Coronado Beach.”
Agent Shank broke in. “Let me get this straight. You’ve risked your lucrative business, your beautiful ranch, and your freedom to help a murderer escape apprehension?”
Brennan looked at Shank. “We’ve been over this before. Andrew Maddix has never killed anyone except on a battlefield.”
“Apparently you take after your whacked-out mother, Caleb. You’re just as much a nut job as she was.”
Brennan shot Eric Shank a withering look. “You’re lucky I’m in handcuffs and surrounded by policemen, otherwise I would throw you out the door of this helicopter.”
“Did you hear that, Nick? Brennan just threatened to kill me. That’s just one more charge against you, one more nail in your coffin, Caleb. You know what, Caleb, you may have once served America honorably while in the military, but now your country will be serving you…three square meals a day from behind bars. And when your home forecloses I think I’ll put in a bid to buy it. Who knows, maybe I’ll be sitting on your front porch someday. I promise I’ll think of you every time I open up a new can of beer. Heck, I’ll even recite a toast of gratitude to you and your stupidity.” Shank grinned and held up an imaginary beer can. “To Caleb Brennan, a SEAL who lost his way. He was once a patriot, but now he’s a felon. God have mercy on his soul.”
Nick Loomis patted Brennan’s knee. “Forgive my partner, Caleb. He gets a little carried away from time to time,” Loomis said. The FBI agent leaned in closer. “Tell me about Adam Thorn, or excuse me, Andrew Maddix. “You once said you’re on the same wavelength as him. So what is Maddix thinking right now? What will he do, where will he go? Will he surrender?”
“Does it matter, Nick?” Brennan looked over at the sniper. “Will Maddix be given a chance to give up?”
“I don’t know, Caleb. I can’t promise you he will.”
“You have to do something. You at least have to talk with the police inspector. He’s running this operation.”
“They have jurisdiction, Caleb. You know that. We’re not in America.”
Brennan sighed and closed his eyes. “Maddix is trying to find temporary cover, a defensible position where he can regroup. Eventually he will try to meet up with his wife and son. He has no desire to engage in a firefight.”
“Like I said, Caleb, I can’t promise you there won’t be a firefight,” Loomis said.
Brennan opened his frosty-blue eyes. He glared at Loomis. “Then you didn’t bring enough men. You’ll need at least a 30-1 ratio in your favor. Any less and you’ll be wasting time and ammo.”
“We nearly have that many men.”
Brennan shrugged his shoulders. “And it probably still won’t be enough.”
“Okay, I’ll go have a word with the inspector.” Loomis stood and made his way through a phalanx of heavily armed policemen toward the inspector sitting in front next to the pilot.
Brennan watched him go, knowing in his heart it was a wasted trip. Melancholy washed over him as Brennan thought back to the day he’d first met Andrew Maddix. When he received his roster and saw Maddix’s name, Brennan had nearly fainted. He realized then, not without shame, that all those letters from his sick mother were truly prophetic and his invitation to participate in something life changing, maybe even world changing.
Back then Maddix had looked unassuming, a little skinny for his tall frame. He wasn’t packed with muscle and didn’t resemble the stereotypical tough guy. But Brennan would never forget the look on the SEAL candidate’s
face. Instead of looking nervous and scared like all the other candidates, confidence and enthusiasm burned in Maddix’s dark eyes.
Right from the get-go, Brennan rode Maddix unmercifully, harder than any other candidate he’d ever trained. Truth is he’d verbally and physically abused the young man without letup. He tried everything in his bag of tricks to get Maddix to quit, but failed. A fantastic swimmer and a tireless runner, Maddix breezed through Hell week as if it were nothing more than a grade school P.E. class. Even sleep deprivation failed to sap his energy. The man was unbreakable. And his unbridled enthusiasm made the other SEAL candidates better. A record amount of candidates in Maddix’s class graduated from Hell week and went on to the next phase.
Brennan swallowed thickly. But even with all Maddix’s physical attributes, special op skillset, and indefatigable mental toughness, he couldn’t possibly survive an extended manhunt now that his cover was blown. This depressing thought ate at Brennan. And understanding fled his mind.
If Maddix was supernaturally anointed to fulfill some mysterious prophecy, why was he being hunted down like an animal? Time was running out on him. The last grain of sand was about to pour out the top bulb in his hourglass.
I have to do something, Brennan thought. Somehow, someway I have to stop this madness before an innocent man is killed.
Chapter 27
Spencer tugged at his mom’s sleeve. “Why is dad such a good fighter?”
Sitting on a ledge in the cave, her son beside her, Spencer’s query roused Emily from her scattered thoughts. She’d been daydreaming, fantasizing they were all together somewhere safe and secluded with no one chasing them, laughing and eating a nice dinner, just the three of them. “Your father was once in the military. He fought in the Afghan War. It’s how he lost his leg. He stepped on a landmine.”
“I saw something on his dresser. It looked like a gold pin,” Spencer said.
Emily looked down at Spencer sitting close beside her. Their arms touched. The lantern light made his face and blonde hair glow. Her heart melted. If this cavernous room could be filled from floor to ceiling with gold bars, the monetary value wouldn’t come close to the treasure Spencer was to her. “That pin is your father’s trident.”
“What is a trident?”
“Well, in your father’s case it’s a Special Warfare insignia. He was given his trident when he finished his training and became a Navy SEAL.”
“I don’t understand, Mom?”
“What is it you don’t understand?”
“Navy SEALS are from America. We’re New Zealanders.”
Emily put an arm around Spencer. “Your father and I aren’t New Zealanders, we’re Americans. We lived in Utah, a state in America, and came here almost six years ago.”
“Why did you and dad come here?”
Emily’s chest hurt. Her leaden heart pounded. She swallowed over a lump. It was time to come clean and tell Spencer everything. “An angel told us to come here.”
Spencer’s eyes grew large. “Why did the angel want you to come here?”
“I think it’s because New Zealand is a good place to hide. There aren’t many people here.”
“But why do we need to hide?”
Emily gathered her courage. She’d been dreading this moment for so long. How could she tell Spencer his mom and dad were fugitives? “Well, a few years ago your father was wrongly accused of committing a horrible crime. He’s innocent, but the evidence points to him.” She watched Spencer digest her words for several seconds.
“That’s why dad is such a good fighter. That’s why he can fight demons. He’s a Navy SEAL,” Spencer said proudly, ignoring for a moment her admission Adam was a suspected criminal.
“Well, even Navy SEALS are no match for demons. Your dad can fight the demons because he has the Holy Spirit living inside him. Jesus gives him the strength and courage to fight them.”
“And don’t forget the sword and the manna.”
Emily smiled. “Yes, those two things definitely help. But scripture is our best weapon. It’s our sword of the spirit.”
“Have you seen the Eden sword when it’s burning, Mom?”
“Yes, I have. I’ve even held it once while it flamed,” Emily answered, not bothering to mention to Spencer she once stabbed three demons in an abandoned warehouse in Las Vegas.
“Cool. But Mom, what happens if we’re caught by the law?”
Emily felt her eyes well up. “I don’t know, buddy. Let’s just take it one moment at a time and try not to think of what will happen, okay?” She looked at her watch. Twenty minutes had gone by since they entered the cathedral room. The canoe was inflated and ready to go. She and Spencer had eaten snacks and shared bottled water. But Adam still hadn’t showed up. It was time to move on and hope Adam would meet up with them at the second rendezvous point. Annie slipped her backpack over her shoulders. “Come on, Spencer. Help me drag this canoe over to the water. You grab the front and I’ll grab the back,” she instructed while she carried the two paddles under the crook of her left arm, and the lantern in her left hand.
“But aren’t we going to wait for dad?”
“Your father and I have already worked this out. There’s another spot in this cave where we can meet up. It’ll be okay,” Emily answered, hoping and praying Adam was still alive and headed this way.
At the edge of the room a stream cut a channel in the cave floor. The stream was a tributary of the Whanganui River and flowed underground for miles. Emily carefully dropped the paddles onto the floor by the stream bank. “Okay, Spence, let go of your end.”
Spencer obeyed and Emily guided the canoe into the water, holding it fast near the bank so it wouldn’t float off into the current. “Okay, Spencer, now I need you to put the paddles into the canoe and then get in.”
Spencer placed the paddles carefully into the canoe but then turned and faced her. “The water is moving really fast, Mom. It looks dangerous. Maybe we should stay here and wait for dad to show up.”
“It’s okay. Believe it or not I’m really good in a canoe. My dad owned a whitewater rafting company in Colorado. I grew up on the river. And I almost made the U.S. Olympic Team in kayaking.”
“What’s kayaking?”
“It’s a sport where you paddle a one-person boat that looks like this canoe through fast-moving water. And in my event I had to paddle around gates.”
Spencer looked at her, a puzzled look spread across his round face. “You and dad sure have a lot of secrets.”
Emily laughed. “I just told you the last secret, I promise. Now get in the canoe. We have to paddle several miles before we make it out of the cave.” She watched Spencer climb into the canoe and settle in near the bow. Emily handed Spencer the lantern. “You have to hold on tight to the lantern, Spencer. Otherwise we’ll be in the dark.” Emily shivered at the thought of navigating the cavern stream in total blackness. The cave was scary enough with the lantern illuminating it. Rock formations jutted out everywhere, forming shadows and silhouettes that seemed alive and moving.
“Don’t worry, Mom, I’ll protect the lantern,” Spencer said and positioned the lantern between his legs.
Emily took a deep breath and climbed into the back of the canoe. She said a quick prayer for protection, and then pushed off the bank with her left hand. The canoe entered the current.
Chapter 28
Adam Thorn raised the Eden sword defiantly. His action appeared courageous on the surface, but the truth was he’d never felt more fear than now. He felt so small and insignificant, a tiny and frail human trying desperately to mount a brave front against hell’s worst: an intimidating warrior demon, hulking and brooding and so…supernatural.
The flame billowing from the Eden sword licked the black sky. The holy fire spotlighted the demon, revealing a perfect musculature impervious to earthly decay and malaises. And yet the flaming sword also revealed the demon’s wickedness, the blasphemous rebellion that led to its banishment from heaven.
“Aren’t you a long ways from home?” Thorn said, his voice cracking like a pubescent boy. Thorn forced himself to look at the demon. He had to find a weakness, and take a quick inventory of his foe’s weapons. But from where he stood, he saw nothing that could be mistaken as a weakness. Underneath strange looking body armor, rippling muscles filled out the demon’s chest and limbs. Its magnificent wings were pulled back behind its back, yet the demon appeared poised to take flight at any moment.
“I’m right where I’m supposed to be,” the demon said in a deep voice that sounded oddly pluralistic.
“Who sent you?” Thorn spotted a flail in the demon’s claw-like left hand. Having always been fascinated by medieval times, Thorn knew a flail was actually a combination of two medieval bludgeoning weapons: the morning star and the mace. The flail was a spiked ball attached by a chain to a club. Only in this case two leaden balls dangled from the demon’s club, and the menacing spikes on each ball looked six inches long. Looking at the spiked balls made Thorn’s head throb.
“I think you know the answer. But I’ll tell you anyway. Lucifer sent me. He doesn’t want you to enter the cave.”
Thorn nodded. “I suspected as much. But I’m curious, why does he always send someone else to fight his battles?”
The demon raised his flail a few inches. The spiked balls clanked against each other. “Do you wish to fight Lucifer?”
“Haven’t I already been battling him all along?”
“You have foolishly mounted a resistance against my master. But your fight ends now at this moment. Tonight, Andrew Maddix, you will take your last breath.”