The Spear of Tyranny

by Grant R. Jeffrey

  Sarah gasped in horrified surprise, then laughed.

  “I don’t know if that was such a wise move,” Danny Melman said, his eyes narrowing. “We could use you as an informant in Romulus’s camp. It would almost be worth your going back to have a man on the inside—”

  “Absolutely not.” Sarah lifted her chin and met Melman’s gaze straight on. “Isaac will not work for Romulus, not under any circumstances. It’s too dangerous.”

  Melman shrugged. “Surely you don’t believe everything we read this morning.”

  “Even if there is but a slight chance it is true,” Sarah answered in a rush of words, “I would not risk my husband.” Her tone softened as she glanced around the table. “I care for each of you and hope none of you will ever submit to his plans. Romulus is right—there is a resistance movement, but his own actions have given birth to it. He is evil and opposed to all that is holy. As the people of God, we must resist him.”

  “Hear, hear.” Ephraim lifted his glass. “Well spoken, Daughter.”

  Smiling, Isaac lifted his glass and drank, too, but already his mind had begun to consider an urgent next step. Romulus’s jet was scheduled to leave Jerusalem within the hour, and Archer would be waiting for him at the airport. When he did not arrive, Archer would initiate a search.

  “Today went well,” Isaac said, setting his glass back on the table, “but you know we are outcasts from this hour forward. I do not dare go home—they’ll be looking for me before sundown. And thirty days from now, none of us who lack the Universal Chip will be able to operate freely in any modern city. Life as we have always known it will end.”

  A silence settled over the group as each person at the table considered the full implication of Isaac’s words. Standing in the prime minister’s office, Isaac had weighed the facts and made his decision, but now he saw a host of considerations play across his friends’ faces. Who among them would choose to stand and resist Romulus?

  “I suppose,” he added softly, lowering his gaze to the table, “I will need a place to spend the night. Sarah is safe for a while, I think, because Romulus thinks we are estranged. But General Archer will be searching for me soon, if he isn’t already.”

  Isaac’s father nodded decisively. “A son should stay with his father in a time of crisis.”

  Danny Melman lifted his hand to the rim of his glass. “No, Dr. Ben-David. Your apartment is the first place they would look.” Featherlike lines crinkled around his eyes as he shifted his gaze to Isaac. “You will call them and say you need to take a few personal days to work out a family problem. You will give them your father’s phone number, so they will assume you are staying with him. And then you will stay with me. My apartment is the last place they would expect to find you.”

  Ephraim put out a hand in protest. “But if they think he is staying with me, why can’t he? A son’s place is—”

  Isaac dropped his hand over his father’s. “Thanks, Dad, but I don’t think it’s wise. They’d put us under surveillance, and neither of us would be able to move without Romulus knowing of it. As it is, they’ll watch your house long enough to realize I’m not there, then they’ll move on and search for me.”

  Melman nodded. “Believe me, Dr. Ben-David, it’s better that your son lie low for a few days. He needs time to make plans for the future.”

  Though Melman was the last man on earth to whom Isaac wanted to be indebted, he knew the director was right.

  Though he hated saying good-bye to Sarah in the restaurant, Isaac did not complain as he rode with Melman to the small apartment complex where the director lived. He gaped in astonishment, however, when the director unlocked the door and dropped the key into Isaac’s hand.

  “Sarah told me what you were led to believe,” he said. Something that looked almost like bitterness entered Melman’s face. “I won’t lie to you—I would have given anything to make Sarah look at me the way she looks at you. But you’re the one she loves, and you’re her husband. So I will send her to you tonight.”

  Isaac clutched the key, surprised again by this un-predictable man. “Here?”

  “Why not?” Melman shrugged. “If they truly believe she and I are having an affair, they won’t be surprised to find me at your house. If they send someone to look for her, I’ll say that she has gone out for groceries. They’ll believe me.” Slowly, he lifted his arm so that the shiny skin on the back of his hand caught the light from a street lamp. “I have the Universal Chip, you see, complete with the UFM code. I learned . . . too late.”

  A warning bell trilled in Isaac’s brain. Could this man be trusted? With the addition of the latter code, he had become part of the Universal Faith Movement, ostensibly committed to follow Romulus into the future. But surely he would not have helped them today if he did not sympathize with their cause.

  Melman must have read his thoughts, for he smiled without humor as he backed away. “It’s a little late to question my motives, Major. If you trust me, wait here. I’ll send your wife to you.”

  He turned and walked back to his car, whistling a tune from the radio. As he walked away, Isaac’s brain filled in the other half of the equation: If you don’t trust me, run. You might evade capture . . . but you’ll definitely miss out on a private night with the wife who needs assurance of your love.

  Without hesitation, Isaac crossed the threshold into Melman’s apartment.

  As the hands of the clock in Melman’s bedroom blended into a single vertical line, Isaac listened to the midnight chimes and drew Sarah more closely to him. She had come, just as Melman predicted, and over the course of the evening they had talked, wept, and recommitted themselves to their marriage, finally giving themselves to each other with sweet abandon.

  Now Sarah lay snuggled in his arms, her eyes closed, her breath soft upon his chest. Lily slumbered at the foot of the bed as she had in days gone by. Isaac knew he ought to sleep, but his heart and mind were too full to rest.

  Odd, that he should find the object of his quest in Jerusalem. He had journeyed to Paris and beyond in search of peace, and tonight it had crept over him in the house of his supposed enemy and the arms of his estranged wife. The world he had grown up with was collapsing around him and his future had never seemed so bleak, yet at this moment Isaac felt completely serene.

  This afternoon he had discovered that someone larger than Adrian Romulus controlled the world stage . . . and, believing that, Isaac knew he could rest.

  Sarah moaned softly in her sleep, disturbed by a dream. Isaac threaded his fingers through her hair until she quieted under his touch, then he surrendered to sleep, wrapped in a blanket of exhaustion and peace.

  “It occurs to me, Husband,” Sarah told Isaac the next morning as they scrounged for dog food and breakfast in Danny Melman’s kitchen, “that we have overlooked two people we really need to interview. They are mentioned in John’s Revelation,” she shot him a speculative glance, “and they’ve been under my nose for months. I’ve compiled huge files on these men, but until yesterday I couldn’t see them for who they really are.”

  Isaac dropped the newspaper and gaped at her like a man faced with a hard problem in trigonometry. “Are you going to make me guess?”

  She slid into the chair next to him and pulled a black binder from a stack of newspapers on the kitchen table. “The two prophets, Moses and Elijah. Look—they are mentioned here in Revelation, but not by name. John refers to them as the witnesses.”

  Ignoring Isaac’s look of confusion, she opened the binder, ran her finger over a few columns, then nodded. “Here it is. Listen: ‘“And I will give power to my two witnesses, and they will be clothed in sackcloth and will prophesy during those 1,260 days.” These two prophets are the two olive trees and the two lampstands that stand before the Lord of all the earth—’”

  “Now that,” Isaac jabbed his finger toward the notebook, “makes no sense. What does he mean by lampstands and olive trees?”

  “I looked that up in one of my father’s old comment
aries.” She pulled a leather-bound book from her large purse and set it on the table, then flipped to a page marked with a sticky tab. “According to this sage, the term lampstand refers to the fact that they are lights in a dark world.”

  Isaac grunted softly and rested his head on his folded arms. “That certainly fits. Go on, Sarah.”

  She tossed him a quick smile of appreciation, then began to read again. “‘If anyone tries to harm them, fire flashes from the mouths of the prophets and consumes their enemies. This is how anyone who tries to harm them must die. They have power to shut the skies so that no rain will fall for as long as they prophesy. And they have the power to turn the rivers and oceans into blood, and to send every kind of plague upon the earth as often as they wish.’”

  Isaac lifted his head as she paused for breath. “That fits as well. Two of Romulus’s UF soldiers were immolated when they tried to shoot Moses and Elijah. And we’ve already heard about bloodied waters. And there’s the worldwide drought and famine and plague . . .” His brow arched. “What else does the Revelation say about them?”

  “This part isn’t so good.” She looked down at the page and couldn’t help grimacing a little at the words she read: “‘When they complete their testimony, the beast that comes up out of the bottomless pit will declare war against them. He will conquer them and kill them. And their bodies will lie in the main street of Jerusalem, the city which is called “Sodom” and “Egypt,” the city where their Lord was crucified. And for three and a half days, all peoples, tribes, languages, and nations will come to stare at their bodies. No one will be allowed to bury them. All the people who belong to this world will give presents to each other to celebrate the death of the two prophets who had tormented them.’”

  Shock flickered over Isaac’s face. “They’re going to die? Is that how God repays them?”

  Sarah held up a warning finger. “Let me finish. ‘But after three and a half days, the spirit of life from God entered them, and they stood up! And terror struck all who were staring at them. Then a loud voice shouted from heaven, “Come up here!” And they rose to heaven in a cloud as their enemies watched.’” She lowered the notebook and looked at her husband. “God will allow the beast to exercise power, but only temporarily. In the end, God will be victorious.”

  Isaac leaned back and rubbed the stubble on his chin. “You said they died in the city where their Lord was crucified.” He looked at Sarah, and she saw reluctance in his eyes. “Was John talking about a great Jewish hero?”

  Slowly, Sarah shook her head. “I’m 90 percent certain he was talking about Jesus of Nazareth. After all, that’s whom the prophets are talking about. Jesus.”

  Isaac bit his lip, then idly picked up his fork and began to push the remnant of a scrambled egg around on his plate. “That’s an idea I’ll need time to accept. For so long I’ve been taught that he did not do anything the Messiah was supposed to do—”

  “He’ll do those things when he returns,” Sarah whispered, understanding her husband’s reluctance. “I don’t understand all of it, either, but I do know this—the two prophets are speaking for God, and they are speaking about Jesus. That’s why I’d like to find them and hear more of what they have to say.”

  Isaac’s face twisted in a sudden expression of distaste. “Christians! Sarah, don’t you realize these are the people who have persecuted Jews for centuries? Can we forget the Crusades, and the Inquisition, even the anti-Semitism of the twentieth century?”

  “I’m trying not to judge God by those who exhibit hate,” she said, spacing her words evenly. “I’m trying to be fair and open-minded. I just want to find the two prophets and hear what they have to say.”

  Isaac stared at her for a long moment, then he leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Do you know where they are?”

  Sarah stirred sugar into her coffee. “They shouldn’t be hard to find. Shabak has had them under surveillance for months. I can call HQ and get an update.”

  A half-smile crossed Isaac’s face. “You’ll call headquarters? And you think they’ll tell you?”

  “Why not?” She dropped her spoon. “I’m still an active agent. You’re the fugitive, not me.”

  “You won’t be an active agent for long. Romulus will put pressure on your office as soon as he realizes I’m AWOL.”

  “Then let’s act quickly.” She rose from the table, taking her coffee cup with her, and grabbed her cell phone.

  The Shin Bet agent on duty took Sarah’s request without comment, and within ten minutes Yitzhak Peres, a coworker from Sarah’s unit, called her with the latest update on the two prophets. “After a trip to Egypt, they reentered Israel six days ago. They are staying with a rabbi who lives on Mendele Street.”

  Sarah jotted down the information, then slid the sheet of paper across the kitchen table to Isaac. “Anything else on them?” she asked.

  “They’re still being surveilled,” Peres answered. “They spent most of yesterday walking the streets of Yemin Moshe, calling the people to repent. Our agents report that they’re still on the move through that neighborhood this morning.”

  “Pretty fancy neighborhood for such a message,” Sarah remarked.

  Peres laughed. “Yeah. They aren’t enlisting many converts, but who knows? After your father’s broadcast yesterday, not many people are rushing to get their Universal Chips, either.”

  Sarah’s smile broadened in approval as she looked at her husband. “Thanks for the update, Peres. I’ll be in touch.”

  She disconnected the call, then slipped the phone into her purse. “Our targets are hanging out with the rich people today. They were last reported in the Yemin Moshe neighborhood.”

  Isaac stood and picked up his jacket. “I have always liked that area.”

  Sarah stood before him as he slipped into his coat. “I have always liked you,” she whispered, then rose on tiptoe to give him a quick kiss.

  They took a cab to Yemin Moshe and disembarked in front of Montefiore’s Windmill, a well-known Jerusalem landmark. Sarah played a hunch that the two prophets might try to take advantage of the crowds that typically gathered to photograph the ancient mill, and within the hour her intuition proved right. As she and Isaac sat on a bench and watched the sun climb overhead, the two who called themselves Moses and Elijah approached the windmill without hesitation, their eyes seeming to train in on Sarah and Isaac as they drew near.

  Sarah marveled at their appearance as they came forward. Though it was mid-September, the midday sun bore down upon the road, the heat making the air quiver and shimmy as it rose from the asphalt. The tourists who milled about wore cool cottons and linens, but these two men wore long brown robes of a coarse material that looked like burlap. Leather sandals covered their dark feet, and sweat dripped from their faces as they climbed the hill. The man with darker hair— Sarah didn’t know whether he was Moses or Elijah—wore a pair of binoculars around his neck. Sarah wondered whether he used them to watch birds or people.

  “Nice outfits,” Isaac remarked under his breath. “Not even the haredim choose to be that uncomfortable.”

  Sarah ignored his comment and stood. The older prophet—or at least she supposed he was older because his beard had gone completely white—smiled and raised his head in a silent greeting.

  “Shalom.” She stepped closer. “My name is Sarah, and this is my husband, Isaac. If you have a moment, we’d like a word with you.”

  The younger man, whose face was just as lined as his companion’s, but whose hair still carried streaks of reddish brown, gave her a slow smile that blossomed out of his beard like a rare flower. “Moses and I were expecting you, daughter of Israel. And we have time, for we must make the most of every opportunity for doing good in these evil days.”

  Sarah shot Isaac a quick glance, but he appeared to be momentarily speechless in surprise. After a moment, he gestured to a pair of benches in a small courtyard. “Shall we sit and talk there? Or would you rather go someplace more private?”

/>   The older man, the one called Moses, began moving toward the benches. “This is the time to live in the light,” he said, his words drifting over his shoulder toward them. “The night is coming soon, so let us enjoy the light while we can.”

  The night comes soon? A thrill of fear shot through her as she remembered the Scripture she had read that morning. The witnesses would only prophesy for 1,260 days, and she had known about them for well over three years. Did they believe that their own end was fast approaching?

  To Sarah’s surprise, Moses sat on one bench and Elijah chose the other, forcing her and Isaac to separate and sit next to each of the prophets.

  When they had all taken a seat, Isaac addressed himself to Moses, somehow sensing that he was the elder and, therefore, the leader. “My friends,” Isaac began slowly, feeling his way, “my wife and I have been searching the Scriptures. We have recently learned of one called the Antichrist, and we have reason to believe this man lives among us now.”

  “There have always been antichrists,” Moses said, a livid hue overspreading the visible parts of his face. “The spirit of antichrist has always been in the world.”

  “But this one, this Romulus,” Isaac continued, leaning forward, “is forcing people to accept an identification chip.”

  “That is not the mark of the beast—the fulfillment of his evil has not yet come.” Elijah’s long, narrow face furrowed with sadness. “On that day, all those who refuse his mark and his authority will be killed, and their spirits will cry out to God for vengeance.”

  Sarah breathed a silent sigh of relief. She had suffered nightmares in which Isaac was condemned to eternal torment because his Universal Chip contained the UFM code. But if this was not the mark of the beast, what was?

  Elijah leaned forward, sweat beading in hundreds of tiny pearls on his skin as he stared at Sarah. “Do not worry about the future, daughter of Israel. Be faithful today. Remember what the Lord told us: ‘If any of you wants to be my follower, you must put aside your selfish ambition, shoulder your cross, and follow me. If you try to keep your life for yourself, you will lose it. But if you give up your life for me, you will find true life.’”