The Arrival

by J W Brazier

  Moses smiled, nodding. “That we do, Aaron, that we do.”

  Joshua looked at his watch. “It was nice meeting you two, but I’ve got to run. I have an important meeting.”

  The men smiled, waved, and went back to sweeping.

  From stage left, Joshua entered the auditorium again and walked to the center podium. He looked out over the room’s three sections and saw no one. Judas was still a no-show. The obscured back rows, though, had a clear view of the stage, putting him at a disadvantage. If anyone sat there, he wouldn’t be able to see them. He took his cell phone out of his jacket pocket and was about to call Brenda.

  “Well, well, at long last … the illustrious Mr. Austin.”

  Joshua flinched, almost dropping his cell phone, as if jolted by an electric shock. The sudden statement caught him off-guard. The room acoustics intensified the deep, resonating voice, as if the man were standing in front of him. He put his cell phone away and walked to the edge of the stage.

  A broad-shouldered man sat in the center section’s back row. No distinguishing features stood out other than the dark outline of a shadowy veiled form.

  How’d he come in? he wondered. He didn’t just materialize out of thin air … or did he?

  “No need to strain your eyes, Joshua. I’ve concealed my appearance from you for the present.”

  “Judas, you made your intentions clear during our first phone conversation. What’s changed and prompted you to want to meet with me?”

  “My intentions and plans remain the same. I’ve asked you here in hopes of persuading you to join me.”

  “Judas, lest you forget, I know who and what you are. You may occupy the body of the betrayer, but you’re the same. Evil goes by many names. You chose your path, I’ve chosen mine.”

  “Ah, yes, my name. Your perception is flawed Joshua. ‘What’s in a name?’ as the greatest of your poets said. I will admit, I’ve always liked the old names, but I digress. Let’s move on. It’s your fixation with choices and your ill-advised beliefs … That’s why I’ve come. I want to enlighten you and explain true history. Think of my presence in this form as my divine retribution. I’m making a statement, if you will. I’m following a plan set in motion centuries ago.”

  Joshua watched the veiled form start to pace the back-row aisle.

  “Allow me to explain. I made Judas a promises centuries ago. He did such a nice job on that Nazarene. I keep my promises; hence, my arrival in his body.”

  “Another promise that concerns you will come soon, Satan.”

  “Oh, how I love hearing those old names mentioned. Now to business. Joshua, there’s no need for us to joust over foolish philosophies. I’ve come to praise you as a worthy adversary. A man of your caliber, I could use. Your exceptional talents are rare indeed. I’m offering you a unique position as my direct liaison.”

  Joshua almost laughed. “Not interested. You and I have opposite interests. I would never consider joining with you.”

  “You’re on the wrong side, my friend. You’ve embraced a false narrative. Please, I hope you’re smart enough to realize that Mr. Taylor didn’t just find this body by accident. The arrival of a new redeemer isn’t by happenstance; it’s all ordained.”

  Joshua’s left eyebrow cocked. Judas was a betrayer and what inhabited him was the father of lies, but he wanted to hear more.

  “Okay, Judas. Talk to me about the ordained part.”

  “Wise choice, Joshua, and for an astute man of faith, you’ll understand that I’ve been in the world from its beginning. Religious deceptions are rampant. The world is ready for a new kingdom—a breath of fresh air … one far removed from the enslavement of religions and myths of saviors. I’ve gotten a bad rap, as it were … to use a colorful metaphor.”

  “You mocked God once, Judas. Now you’re back to do it again. Big mistake.”

  “No mistake, Joshua. It’s payback time. God mocked me because the Nazarene lied. When he was alone in the desert, he promised me redemption and eternal life, but wouldn’t use his powers in the ways I asked. We fought and argued for days. It wasn’t until he’d found his twelve disciples that he presented me with my golden opportunity. I found my way back through Judas, then I killed that carpenter.”

  “He’s alive Judas, and you’ll face him soon.”

  “Yeshua is dead, Joshua. I was there. That Nazarene wasn’t what he claimed. I know how it went down.”

  “‘Deceiver’ is an accurate description of you, Satan.”

  The clone of Judas laughed. “I’m amazed how, still to this day, the world believes those men’s lies and elaborate hoaxes created over a lot of wine. They rewrote history according to their view. I knew those eleven uneducated idiots very well. They fled like cowards soon after the Romans killed the Nazarene. They were a ragamuffin band of zealots who didn’t trust the Nazarene and hated the Romans. All those disciples are dead. That carpenter never resurrected as they claimed. Me, Judas, I’m the resurrected! Joseph of Arimathea and old Nicodemus buried that Nazarene. I can take you there and show you your so-called savior’s bones myself, if you’d like.”

  The voice and words of Judas had captivated Joshua’s attention. Judas’s oratory was flawless, hypnotic, and persuasive. Joshua could understand how the charisma of this fallen angel would influence anyone.

  “Why did you choose White River as your own personal testing area?” Joshua asked.

  “Ah, yes, so your religiosity can’t stand the light of truth and you’re ready to change the subject. I’m disappointed. I’d hoped we would make some progress, but as you wish, let’s move on to White River. You’re correct. Operation Chameleon, in essence, was a preparation of sorts, as well as a homecoming. I’ve achieved what I set out to accomplish. The results were better than I’d expected, but I admit, it was a selfish indulgence.”

  “Accomplish? What might that be, may I ask?”

  “I’m glad you asked, my friend.”

  “You keep calling me ‘friend.’ I’m not your friend.”

  “Alright, have it your way. I’m about to change the global perspectives of a world gone mad. My arrival is at an appropriate time. My plan is simple when you consider the world is flush with religious fanatics and dictators. King Solomon said, and I’m paraphrasing, ‘There’s nothing new, nothing old under the sun. It’s all vanity.’ Gotta love it. Vanity works for me every time. So I’ll bring peace to a world ready for my leadership, and I’ll right the wrongs of centuries because of my bad press, as you Americans say. Enough of man’s misguided rebellion against me, and his false religious appetites.”

  “You’ll have a fight on your hands.”

  “Not as big as you might think, Joshua. Those you call your brethren—‘believers,’ as you say—will show their true colors of allegiance. I predict they’ll submit rather fast. Years of hard work indoctrinating American generations has paid off and prepared fertile ground for my arrival. America is now a secular-humanist country. Die-hard rebels just haven’t embraced that inevitable finality as yet.

  “The terrorist attacks on the Ohio River nudged Americans in the right direction. Disdain for religion is growing. I’ll cheer them on and usher them to my table and into a new world order. Once America falls, the rest of the world will follow like dominoes. The true kingdom—my dominion—is about to make an appearance. I want strong fighters like you to join the revolution of change. If you’ll join me, I promise you I’ll make a place for your country at my table.”

  Joshua kept silent and listened close. He had to admit the creature was a powerfully persuasive personality. All of what he’d said sounded true and plausible. A believer’s weak faith would be their undoing, and so would it be for a nation.

  “I’ll never join you, Judas. In fact, I’ll spend my last breath warning others and fighting against you. My answer to your invitation is a resounding no! A thousand times over, no!”

  “Hm. What a pity. I’ve offered you power and wealth unimaginable, yet you cling to the memory of a d
ead carpenter.”

  “Yes, and he’s not dead, but alive, and you’ll see him soon, Judas.”

  Joshua saw the shadowed figure stop pacing and adjust his suit.

  “I’d hoped reasoning with you would have produced a more fruitful outcome for both of us, but I see sterner methods are in order. What a pity, but for now, I must go. I’ve pressing engagements in the Middle East. My al-Qaeda friends are waiting. Our paths will cross again, Joshua Austin. With our business finished, I’ll leave you with a small taste of my displeasure.”

  Joshua stiffened and cocked an inquiring eyebrow at the word “displeasure.” In that instant, he thought he was hallucinating. Two boiling pitch-black clouds erupted from out of nowhere near the entrance doors, but there were no flames. The shadowed figure of Judas Iscariot lifted his arm and pointed a finger at Joshua. He opened his hand, then closed it to a clinched fist. Joshua felt a breeze blow across his face and then an excruciating pain, as if he’d been stabbed in his chest. He dropped to his knees. To breathe seemed like agony.

  Joshua felt his heart being squeezed. The pressure in his chest mounted, like a giant vise ratcheting in on his torso. He raised his head toward his adversary. Two large dark shadows, in the form of men, step out of the boiling black clouds, as if they’d entered this world from another dimension. The two large forms moved toward him. Judas, the clone, lowered his arm and left the room laughing, but the other two figures continued toward Joshua.

  Helpless, Joshua withered in agony on the stage floor. He wondered if he was about to die. Visual images of Brenda and the children flashed across his mind. In unbearable pain, he was able to whisper, “Lord, please help me.”

  His vision blurred, and he felt dizzy, unable to breathe. He knew he was about to pass out when he glimpsed the two janitors in his peripheral vision. Aaron and Moses walked out across the stage and planted themselves on his right and left side.

  Joshua felt Moses touch the left side of his back. The pressure on his heart released, and the burning pain subsided. He gasped deep breaths. He could breathe without pain.

  Aaron on his right side shouted several words in a foreign language. Still on his hands and knees, catching his breath, Joshua raised his head. The boiling black clouds and the other two large forms had disappeared.

  The rear pressroom doors exploded open. Sheriff Frazier and four deputies ran inside the room with their weapons drawn. BJ reached Joshua first and helped him to his feet.

  “Are you alright, Mayor? Shelby gave us a call, worried about you. She was babbling about you meeting with the Devil. What’s this all about?”

  “I’ll explain later, Billy Joe, but first, I want to thank those two workers.”

  “What workers? We’re the only ones here. We arrived within minutes of Shelby’s call, sealing off the entire building. No one could’ve come or gone without us seeing them.”

  Joshua looked around the auditorium, but then started to grin and whispered, “Thank you, Lord.”

  Sheriff Frazier didn’t seem to see the humor. “Joshua, you escaped an assassination. Your secretary calls us hysterical about you in danger over a meeting with the Devil. I find you on your knees in the pressroom. You look like a whipped puppy, and you’re talking about two men saving you who don’t exist, and you’re smiling.”

  “BJ, you’d have to see it to believe it, and I realize this all sounds odd to you. I’ll try to explain if you’ll give me a ride home. I’ve had enough excitement for the day.”

  Chapter 42

  “Punishment Should Fit the Crime” …

  So read the lead headline in a Little Rock newspaper. In agonizing pain, facing imminent death, Ben Archer received what he’d asked for in the woods the moment he cried out. The penalty for his deeds would come in ways he’d not imagined. His convictions for murder and attempted murder guaranteed his imprisonment for life.

  The heart surgeon repaired Ben’s heart, saving his life, but the organ sustained irreparable damage. After his extensive surgery, complications arose. Partial paralysis from a stroke had forever consigned him to a wheelchair, his upper body needing to be strapped in for support.

  The doctors informed Mrs. Archer they’d done all that was possible, and that another stroke or heart attack would take his life. His hearing and sight remained intact, but Ben couldn’t speak. His life spared, his punishment fit the crime: trapped in a wilted body, tormented in mind, but his spirit nourished by way of his faithful wife.

  Olivia sold their home in White River and moved closer to the state prison. She visited with Ben in the prison’s medical facilities on a regular basis once a week. The warden gave her two uninterrupted hours during her visits. Olivia used one of those hours for reading to Ben from the Bible.

  Meanwhile, Chief Farnsworth spent his nights in the county jail alongside his two co-conspirators until space was available in the state prison system. They’d all received the same life sentence as Ben Archer.

  Police Chief Jefferson felt saddened by the man’s plight in that respect, but George had made his choices. Chief Farnsworth would die in prison from either old age, or worse, from an angry prison population happy to greet ex-law enforcement officers.

  *

  During his assistance in the Archer investigation, Agent Rashid found Ben’s office ransacked and his private safe open and empty. Several eyewitnesses reported seeing Angela Newberry in a new car on her way out of town. Angela’s whereabouts were unknown, according to relatives and friends … or so they’d claimed. Jamal’s preliminary investigations proved insufficient evidence to merit filing formal charges or to detain Angela for questioning. She was free to go wherever she wanted.

  Jamal, though, decided to pursue an idea. What better time to test the technology behind the new OWN ID card and its hyped capabilities, he reasoned.

  Angela’s sudden flight to whereabouts unknown presented that excellent opportunity. Her exact location and transaction history were now traceable.

  In a government mobile communications van, Jamal stood behind an overweight, pimple-faced young technician named “Edgar.” Miss Newberry’s positions appeared like bright blimps on a sophisticated radar screen. The precise accuracy and speed with which Edgar plotted her location and movements on a map, astonished Jamal.

  Edgar, though, found amusement with his task. “It’s like looking at guinea pigs in a cage,” he said, looking up at Jamal through thick glasses. Enthusiastic with his work, he showed Jamal how, using the OWN satellites, close-up photos of Angela in motion with sound and color could easily be obtained.

  “Wow. Look at that. She’s hot stuff!” Edgar said.

  “Focus on our task, Edgar, not her body. She’s old enough to be your mother.”

  Angela traveled west from Fort Smith into Oklahoma, using her OWN card for food, gas, and clothing. She stayed in a budget motel in Tulsa, eating breakfast at 7:37 a.m. She ate lunch two hundred miles away, ordering a double-bacon burger with extra cheese, large fries, and a medium soft drink. Angela, of course, had no idea the FBI was monitoring her every move.

  Jamal knew that sophisticated telemetry already existed within the realms of military and NSA surveillance, but only for limited periods as the satellites orbited earth, and only within a small global area. The One World Sat systems changed that with its eight satellites, enhancing any subscriber nation with Orwellian capabilities. Jamal quickly grasped the seriousness of a one-world ID. The fearsome powers of the new OWN system had the ability for precise and instantaneous 24/7 monitoring of every human on earth—a scary prospect.

  The technicians seemed to be into the technology, void of emotion regardless of innocence, guilt, or privacy. Edgar and his cohorts’ fingers glided effortlessly over their keyboards as they chased their unsuspecting prey. The braggarts confessed how they could freeze assets or corner anyone for law enforcement arrests like a caged rat.

  “Geez,” Edgar said when Jamal asked what he thought of his job, “OWN is cool stuff, better than NSA equipment. Let
me show you, Agent Rashid.”

  Edgar exhibited a dramatic gesture with a single keystroke and Angela’s car stopped. She pulled off to the side of a long stretch of isolated road.

  “Look at that. I’ve disabled her car!” He laughed.

  Jamal had seen enough. Operation Chameleon had outdone its seditious intent.

  “Let her start her car and then shut down her surveillance. I’ve seen enough. You’re forgetting our target is a person, presumed innocent, with constitutional rights and the right to privacy.”

  Edgar grumbled under his breath. Then Angela started her car and took off again.

  Jamal walked out of the room headed for his car. The experience had unnerved Jamal. He feared the abuse and consequences of OWN’s sophisticated technologies used in the wrong hands. Jamal stood beside his car. He reached in his jacket pocket and took out his OWN ID card, examining it several times. He’d refused the implant, but refusal would be short-lived, he figured. Implants would become mandatory at some point in time.

  He couldn’t help but stare at his card, wondering if what the Christians believed might be true. Were the card and implants preludes to vindicating that belief? If it were true, then his choice of allegiance would come sooner than later, he reasoned. He’d seen the mysterious, unnerving bloody letters appear at several churches as he’d watched.

  Jamal looked up and gazed around sensing the eerie silence of empty downtown streets. Operation Chameleon was over; the military had gone. The aftermath of forced martial law and the restrictions by foreign military had left its ugly stain on the population. The world to him seemed to be collapsing under the weight of its own strife, into chaos.

  He stuffed the OWN card into his wallet, got into his car, and drove away. He headed back to his office to clear out his desk and pack up cases of accumulated files. Washington had ordered him to close up shop and return for debriefing.

  Jamal’s experiences and the people he’d met while in White River would forever leave a lasting imprint. The red-lettered words he read in the Bible on that eventful day of the Austin shootout still lingered.