by Karl Morgan
Book Four of the Modern Prophet Series
Demonic
Kindle Edition
Copyright © 2016 by Karl J. Morgan
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Cover and text design: Sabrina Lueck
Sacred Life Publishers™
www.sacredlife.com
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Author Profile
Table of Contents
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
About the Author
Other Books by Karl J. Morgan
Chapter 1
Sam glanced at his phone and noticed it was three o’clock in the morning. He looked around nervously as he walked down the deserted sidewalk. He stepped into a dark alley and waited with his hand on the grip of the pistol in the pocket of his hoodie. A dark sedan came into view around the corner at the nearest intersection, so he backed further away into the shadows. That car was familiar and not in a good way. Sam crouched down and drew his pistol and waited. He held his breath when the vehicle stopped just feet away where the alley intersected the downtown avenue. The front passenger window lowered and an arm extended outward holding a flashlight. Sam considered turning and running but did not relish the idea of being shot in the back. Flashing lights reflected on the back window of the sedan and the whoop from a police siren pierced the quiet of the night. The arm withdrew into the window and the sedan continued down the roadway with the cruiser behind it. Sam wiped the sweat from his brow with his arm and panted for air. A second sedan pulled up to the opening into the alley and waited. This was the car Sam had been waiting for. He breathed a sigh of relief, pushed the pistol back into his pocket and walked into the dim streetlight. Detective Dan Whitfield signaled with his thumb and Sam opened the rear door and climbed inside. Detective Shawna White turned and smiled at him, and then accelerated into the sparse traffic.
“Do you have any idea how close that was?” Sam asked.
“That’s why we had the black-and-white with us, Sam,” Dan replied. “This whole situation is spinning out of control, pal. Don’t you think it’s time you got away from here? We can find a place to hide you until this cools off.”
“It’s never going to cool off, Dan,” Sam began. “In fact, it’s just about to become radioactive.”
Shawna eyed him in the rear view mirror and asked, “What’s that supposed to mean, Sam?”
“What the hell do you think it means? I’m talking five suitcase nukes. They are crossing the border tonight and will be in position within a day or two. Then all shit’s going to break loose.”
“That’s it!” Dan exclaimed. “You’re coming in with us. This just went from simmering to a full boil. I don’t care if you want to or not.” Shawna put the light on the roof and turned on the siren as the car accelerated toward the main police station.
“It’s too damned late for that, guys! We have to get the hell out of San Diego in twenty-four hours if we don’t want to be flash-fried.” He pulled on the door handle but nothing happened. “I’m serious, you two. I am not going to stay in this town. You have to let me go!” Sam was in full panic. Just as the car turned toward the police station parking structure, Sam pulled his pistol and pressed it against the back of Shawna’s head. “Stop this car or I’ll blow your brains out!” Shawna braked and the car stopped just outside the structure. He checked the handle and when the door opened, he removed the gun and said, “I’m sorry, but I have to find a way out of here and I suggest you do the same. Good luck.” He stepped out of the car and hurried down the street. After fifteen feet, there was a burst of gunfire from a building across the street. He was hit in the chest, stomach, and head and fell dead to the sidewalk. Shawna and Dan jumped out and took cover in front of their car, examining the surroundings for a shooter.
“I can’t see anything, can you?” Shawna asked.
“Nothing.” They heard the screech of spinning wheels and saw a car a block away accelerating and turning a corner. “Shit!”
“What airline is it again, sweetheart?” Bill Watson asked his wife, Audrey.
“Frontier. I think that’s Terminal 1 now,” she replied. Bill took the exit ramp toward Lindbergh International Airport in his Toyota Avalon. “Sandi told me it was at the very end of the building.”
“Okay, got it. Just a reminder that you have an open return, so just let me know or call the airline to book it when you’re ready to come home, okay?”
“Honey, I really hope this doesn’t take too long. Our daughter and Tommy have been having some problems since they moved to Montana, so I just want to help and make sure they work things out.”
“I know. They’re good kids and I am sure it will be okay. Be sure and tell them how much I love them both,” Bill noted as he pulled up to the curb and turned off the motor. He pushed the trunk release and stepped out of the car, hurrying around to the back to extract his wife’s suitcase. He carried it over to her and set it by her side. “Have a safe flight!” He kissed her softly.
She took his hands and replied, “I didn’t want to tell you this, but I’m kind of freaked out about flying on September 9. Sunday is the fifteenth anniversary, you know?”
He hugged her tightly and said, “I’m very glad you’re traveling today and not on the eleventh. Don’t worry, it will be okay.” He kissed her again. “Do you have your ID and boarding passes?”
She pulled them out of her purse to show him and then stuffed them back inside. “Take care of my dog, honey.” She pulled out the handle on her roller-board, turned and walked toward the building. Bill sighed, returned to the rear of his car to close the trunk lid and then slid back into the driver’s seat. He looked for a clear spot and pulled into traffic. Then he pressed a few spots on his display and the hands-free began to dial a number.
“Hi Dad,” Sandi said.
“Good morning, sweetie-pie, I’m calling to let you know I just dropped your mom at the airport. She’s a bit nervous about flying so close to 9/11, so you should call and reassure her, okay?”
“Will do.”
“How are you two doing today?”
“Not bad, Dad, I think everything will be a lot better once I get a job. I’m climbing the walls alone here all day, and I guess I’ve been taking that out on Tommy.”
“It will all work out, honey. You two are wonderful people and every relationship goes through rough spots. Just love each other like I love you and this will pass.”
“Thanks, Daddy. I love you too. I’ll call mom right now.”
“Take care and let me know when she’s there safely. I love you.”
“I’ll call and I love you too. Bye.” The line went dead, replaced after a second by music over the sound system. Bill headed toward the freeway and his job down in Otay Mesa.
He was just entering Chula Vista on the Five South after passing through National City when a breaking news alert came over the radio. “This just in. The ongoing conflict between Iran and ISIL has intensified as Revolutionary Guard armored units have crossed th
e Tigris River near Basra. It is believed Iran may take control of the ISIL oil export terminal in that region within the day, which could drastically reduce the finances of that rogue state.
“Rebels continue to flock to the region to join ISIL, which now routinely enters the territories of Turkey, Jordan, Azerbaijan, and Armenia for terrorist attacks. Russian President Vladimir Putin has sent several divisions to the Caucasus to support the local governments.
“There are also rumors of ISIL fighters setting up training camps in remote areas of northern Mexico and southern Alberta for eventual attacks on the homeland. It is being reported that some drug cartels have been battling ISIL fighters, although the Mexican government has not confirmed or denied those reports.” The bad news made Bill too depressed to listen anymore, and he turned off the radio and thought about his family caught in these crazy times.
Border Patrol Supervisor Enrique Martinez raced his truck across the barren countryside ten miles west of Lukeville, Arizona. He was responding to calls from several other agents who had been monitoring the area. Apparently, they found several bodies at the international border. He reached the top of a low rise and began down the other side. In the distance, he could see two Border Patrol vehicles and three ATVs. Just on the other side of the border sat an armored personnel carrier and twenty Mexican soldiers. The group was standing near the bodies and seemed very tense. When he arrived, he turned off his vehicle, jumped out and headed toward the group. The soldiers and agents were standing twenty feet from a group of at least fifteen bodies, all of which had been decapitated. He felt the vomit rising in his throat at the sight and smell of the bodies. He walked slowly over to the soldiers and asked, “Do any of you speak English?”
“I do,” the single officer said as he extended his hand. “I am Lieutenant Marco Silva Diaz.”
“Enrique Martinez, Lieutenant. It’s too bad we meet under these circumstances. Does anyone know what happened here?”
“Unfortunately, yes, and this is just the tip of the iceberg. Did you notice that?” Marco said pointing toward a fence line one hundred yards deeper into Mexico.”
Enrique squinted to see more clearly and noticed the heads of the victims were on top of the fence posts. “Jesus Christ!”
“A local cartel discovered the terrorist camp in their territory, but underestimated their numbers. Five kilometers south of here there are dozens more bodies, some from each side. It would seem they fought there. Those men,” he noted, pointed toward the headless bodies, “must have tried to escape the fight into the US, but the terrorists caught up to them and then this happened.”
“What happened to the terrorists?”
“I’m afraid their camp is abandoned, and that can only mean one thing.”
“They came into the USA?”
The lieutenant nodded. “We cannot know for sure, but I would assume that to be the case, Enrique. But it gets worse, my friend. Come over here with me a moment.” The two men walked about twenty yards away to the armored personnel carrier. Marco opened a panel and removed a Geiger counter and switched it on. It made a low, slow, clicking sound. “Come on.” He began walking toward the pile of bodies. The clicks began to increase. They passed the rest of the men and the clicking intensified. He stopped ten feet from the bodies and the clicking was rapid and loud.
“Holy shit, they’re radioactive?” Enrique gasped. “What does that mean?”
“There is no way to know, but it cannot be good for either of our countries. I have already called for a hazmat team to clean the site up. You can imagine the other battlefield is even hotter than this one. I recommend that we all move back at least a hundred yards for now.”
Far up a nearby mountain, the fifty fighters crouched down in the dirt watching the group near the bodies. “Should we engage the enemy?” one of the men asked. They were all dressed in black with balaclavas concealing their faces.
“Don’t be stupid,” the leader growled. “Our job is far from here. If we attack, we will lose more men and may not be able to get to our objective on time. Phoenix is more than a hundred miles from here, and we only have twenty-four hours to get the bomb in place. The truck will be at the rendezvous point in two hours. We have to travel ten miles or more to be there. The driver has been told to wait no more than one hour, so let’s go.” The group stayed low to the ground as they continued uphill. Four of them were carrying a large crate with the others surrounding them. Once they topped the hill, they stood and began to hurry toward their destiny.
Bill Watson was sitting in his office reviewing financial statements on his computer screen. If he turned right and looked out his window, he could see the Mexican border less than a mile away, but that was typical for this industrialized area of southern San Diego. He glanced at the time on his telephone and thought his wife should be landing in Denver any time now. He was opening his web browser to get an updated arrival time when a news headline caught his eye. It said that a number of decapitated bodies had been found on the border between Mexico and Arizona and it was believed the perpetrators had fled into the United States. The story sent a shiver up his back. “Hey Bill, you have a minute?” asked his boss, Tom White, from the door. He looked up to see Tom standing in his doorway with a pretty young woman with blond hair and bright green eyes. He stood and offered his hand. “Bill, this is Mary Stewart. She’s starting today as a product manager. Mary, Bill Watson is our controller.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Bill,” she smiled.
“Nice to meet you too, Mary. Welcome to the team!”
“Thanks.”
Tom said, “Let’s plan on the three of us having lunch today, okay? In the meantime, Mary, why don’t you go back to your desk and get settled in. I need to chat with Bill a bit.” She smiled and walked out of the office.
“Is something wrong, Tom?”
The manager closed the door and sat down. “Bill, did you hear about those dead guys in Arizona?”
Bill sat and replied, “Yeah, it sounds really gruesome. I bet it’s one of those drug cartel battles.”
Tom looked around suspiciously and then whispered, “I don’t think so. I think it’s Al Qaeda or ISIS. They’re bringing their war here. I heard a rumor that the bodies were radioactive!”
“What?”
“Shit, I shouldn’t be telling anyone this, but my wife told me an informant told them that five suitcase nuclear bombs are being smuggled into the country as we speak.”
“Oh my God!” Bill moaned.
“And you know that San Diego and LA are perfect targets. Close to the border; lots of military bases. Things are about to go from bad to awful.”
Bill smirked and said, “Don’t you think that’s a little melodramatic, Tom? I have to believe the FBI is all over this kind of thing.”
“I hope so too, pal, but what if they miss one?”
Bill sighed. “God help us.”
“I’ll let you know if I hear anything else, okay?”
“Thanks, boss.”
Bill’s phone rang and Tom stood and walked out of the office. Bill picked up the receiver and said, “Bill Watson.”
“Honey, it’s me,” Audrey replied. “I’m in Denver now, safe and sound.”
“That’s great! Thanks for letting me know. How was the flight?”
“The flight was fine, but frankly, some of the things I overheard scared the crap out of me.”
“Like what?”
“There were two Air Force pilots sitting behind me, and they were talking about more incursions by Russian aircraft over Alaska and Canada.”
“It’s like everything is going crazy all over the place, sweetheart.”
“What do you mean, Bill?”
“I heard on the radio that terrorists may have set up training camps in remote parts of Canada and Mexico. And please don’t mention this, but Tom said his wife told him about suitcase nukes being smuggled into the US.”
“I’m scared Bill. I don’t know what to do!”
&
nbsp; “Audrey, these things are just rumors and possibilities. We need to focus on the things we can manage. You go on to Montana and help Tommy and Sandi deal with their situation. We have to have faith that the FBI and police will stop anything really awful from happening. We’ll just play this thing as it comes along.”
“That’s not very reassuring, Bill.”
“I know, but it’s all we can do right now.”
“Yea, you’re right. Well, they just called my flight for boarding, so I’ll let you go now and call you when I get to Billings.”
“I love you, sweetheart, and have a good flight.”
“I love you too.” The line disconnected.
An hour and a half later, Bill Watson returned to the office after having lunch with his boss and the new employee at a nearby Mexican restaurant. Mary seemed like a nice young woman. She had been out of college for a few years and recently took the chance to move from her native Iowa to California, trying to jumpstart her career. She seemed a bit shy, but Tom’s easy wit had drawn her out. Bill was sitting at his desk again when his cell phone rang. He pressed the connect button and said, “Hello?”
A deep, gravelly voice said, “You and your family are in grave danger, Bill Watson.”
Bill began to tremble and replied, “Who the hell is this?”
“Your world is about to change forever. I am a friend and I will help you.”
“How do you know my family is in danger? Who are you?”
“You will learn very soon, Bill. Do a favor for a new friend, and I will reciprocate in kind.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Who is this?”
“If you want to survive, do a favor for a new friend. If you fail, you will die before the sun rises tomorrow, and without you, your family is doomed.”
“Is this some kind of prank?”
“You will learn soon enough.” The line went dead.