Misguided: The Jesus Assassin

by Jason E. Fort

  Beth suddenly spoke in reply, “Babe…I know it’s bad. You don’t have to sugar coat anything with me. I can feel how bad it is. But it’s okay.”

  She gasped for enough air to keep talking as Knox argued, “No Honey – an ambulance is on its way. I promise they are coming as fast as they can, and we’ll get you patched up. I just need you to hang in there.”

  She reached up and slowly traced a tear line on her lover’s face with her finger.

  “I want to tell you something. I want to tell you why everything is going to be okay.”

  She swallowed some of the extra air she had inhaled as she had been gasping for air in her state of shock.

  Then Beth continued, “Last night, before I slept, I read some more of my Bible. I got to the part in the third chapter of John…and I kept reading it. I thought about you, and I thought about my parents. I thought about so many people out there that I know would make God think this world is worth saving. And then I prayed, John. I prayed that God would know I believe. I mean I really believe with all my heart that Jesus is a real Person. He was the perfect sacrifice for you…for me…for Malik.”

  John dried another tear from his eye and spoke back, “Honey that is awesome. I am so glad for you. But the ambulance is almost here. I hear the sirens now.”

  He wasn’t lying; even Beth could hear the faint sounds in the distance of the approaching EMS truck.

  Beth spoke again with a certain tone of finality in her voice.

  “John – before I go…there’s something I want you to do.”-

  “Anything, sweetie. You name it,” Knox briefly interrupted.

  “Please tell Malik. Tell him the story he needs to hear. Tell him about us; about me and my journey. Most importantly, tell him about Jesus. And add him to OUR list of the people that are worth saving. Know that I love you, John.”

  Her voice faltered with those last few words, and she reached up to touch his face one last time. “Thank you…thank you for everything.”

  She finished her last words on this Earth slow and distinctly, as if she really wanted Agent Knox to remember her thankfulness more than anything else – and then she was gone.

  Knox sat there sobbing for what seemed several minutes. He never got to tell her he loved her one more time. Knox sat there and cried as he waited for the EMT’s. EMS workers arrived shortly thereafter, carefully placed Beth in an open spot on the floor, and began going through the motions with Beth’s lifeless body - but Knox knew it was too late. He stood at the edge of the dim, unfinished room and stared out into the darkness wondering how Malik’s progress was going. He knew he should probably check on his partner, but most of his true sense of reason had left him. At work, Beth had been his reasonable half for the last two years. For the moment, all the reason he could muster was gone.

  39

  Greensboro, North Carolina

  Roof of Mosque / Muslim School Construction Site

 

  The Arbiter quickly found the shell casing of the 30-06 round, and cursed himself for not pulling the trigger a millisecond sooner after seeing the red dot from his laser site. He hated unpractical kills, and his target had just gotten away. He made a quick scan as he finished gathering his gun parts and folded away his portable sniper rifle. He threw his bag over his back as he found the shortest way down from the rooftop. He jumped off an overhang and landed on a dirt pile. He shuffled down the side of the dirt pile and ran for the construction site. The Arbiter had to find Brady before he got a chance to find another vehicle and hit the road again. He cut a quick left as he came close to the building whose window both the assassin and the Interpol man had jumped out. There was a large hill of dirt that built up to a level just under the height of the window. The Arbiter followed the downward slope of the dirt with his eyes and decided to head in the direction of the bottom of the huge hill. When he got there he shined a flashlight down at the dirt, and could see two tracks of large footprints with long strides headed to a large lumberyard right there on the construction site. The Arbiter was not going to let the Interpol Inspector catch his man, and he didn’t care what he had to do to get to Brady.

  Brady flew out the window and landed almost immediately on a large hill of dirt, and hit the ground running. Although it was dark, the full moon gave off enough light to keep him from running into anything. Man - what he wouldn’t give for his night vision shades, but they were back in the Jeep Commander. He stopped for a brief moment and thought maybe he would head that way, but then he heard the thud of the dark-skinned investigator’s feet after he had jumped out the same window, and he quickly bolted to the left and into a small lumberyard. He could hear the footsteps of the pursuing agent, so he ran and ducked behind a large pile of two-by-fours.

  Malik had come around the corner of other woodpiles in the nick of time to see the movement. He suddenly slowed down and approached the large pile of wood cautiously. When Brady jumped up to spring the trap, this time Malik was ready. He blocked a heavy blow with his forearm and he counterpunched to the side of the neck. Brady returned a block and countered towards Malik’s face. Malik would counter, and then the assassin would counter. It was like a mad dance of knees and elbows – an MMA fight between two skilled men of contrasting minds. Yet their minds almost seemed linked as each fighter almost knew what the other man was going to do next. However, Malik was faster – and it was wearing on Brady. The tide was soon turned as Malik began landing more blows than Brady desired, and Brady was looking for a quick getaway from this pesky opponent.

  As they scrambled around their manmade arena, with metal pipes and wooden boards and piles of concrete; all sorts of things that can hurt someone – the air began to fill with dust and both fighters coughed. Brady held his breath for an instant as Malik choked on some dirt, and that was when he struck. Brady brought up a knee as he grabbed the back of Malik’s neck and pulled his head towards his knee. Malik’s two arms shot across to block instinctively, but not fast enough to prevent the shock of the blow. His body arced backwards from the force of the knee thrust, and he thought he would get hammered again, when something struck Brady from behind. Malik stepped back a few steps, still shocked by the blow of Brady’s knee. He watched as two hooded figures sized each other up in the moonlight. It took about five seconds for it to sink in Malik’s head that the new arrival was the man who shot Beth. But when it registered, Malik’s shout froze the two dark clothed men in their fighting stances.

  “You shot Agent White!”

  It was almost like the Arbiter could read the Inspector’s mind as he drew his sidearm to kill the Arbiter. The Arbiter quickly side-stepped the muzzle of Malik’s gun, and quickly disarmed him by reaching up and twisting the gun quickly downward and out of his hands. The gun fell harmlessly to the ground, and the Arbiter punched Malik squarely in the chest. If it had been a punch from Brady, it would have sent him back flying…but the Arbiter was the same size as Malik. The blow sent him back a few steps, but his fury and anger brought him back forward to Agent White’s shooter. He came on with a flurry of elbows and low shin kicks. The Arbiter almost had trouble keeping up, as a few sharp, painful but less powerful strikes broke through and were sure to bruise later.

  Meanwhile, Brady had taken advantage of the investigator’s interference. He wanted no part in this encounter with the agent for the Activity sent to kill him. He knew the man was just holding back against the law man because Malik was not on his hit-list. He used the distraction to make a clean break for the direction of his Jeep. He quickly ducked around some piles of gravel and cement blocks, and then hurdled a temporary fence made of black plastic and stakes in the ground. He saw the tree line and made a beeline for it.

  Malik thought he was getting the better of the man who had tried to ruin their whole case and take out Brady from afar, wounding Beth in the process. However, Brady had been right. The Arbiter had been holding back, and he quickly lashed out with countermoves that put Malik on his heels. Malik ha
d never tangled with such accuracy in strikes and blocks before. He suddenly had no answer for the thrusts of fingers and forearms from different positions, and found himself getting beat. He thought he was about to deliver a huge counterpunch when all the sudden he found his arm locked down in a hold while the hooded man crouched low to the ground. Malik yelled out with a scream as his forearm was snapped in two, and then hung loosely at his side as the Arbiter stood him up and shoved him away. As Malik stumbled back, the Arbiter looked over next to Malik and saw a strange lever-activated device containing a large amount of lumber, but held in place by a large sheet of metal connected to the lever at the bottom. While Malik was still shrieking in pain from the broken arm, the Arbiter jumped to the lever and kicked it with his leg. The sheet of metal holding the lumber slid out of place, and the large pile of two-by-fours went sliding down on top of Malik. With nothing to interfere, he ran in the direction he last saw Brady running. As he approached the woods, he could see blue lights flashing through the trees. The police had apparently found Brady’s getaway car. The Arbiter knew that meant Brady would have to find another way to travel.

  He still ran towards the illuminated section of the woods. He would stay far enough out of the line of sight of cops and FBI to scan the area for any signs of Brady. He found what he was looking for…a couple of broken branches and a small shadowy path across the road. He knew that was the trail Brady took, because that’s where he would have gone if he discovered the cops had his car under tight wraps. He waited until the coast was clear on his side of the small highway, and when he thought no police were looking and no cars were coming, he bolted across the road and into the dark path. He saw that the path cut a swath to another short road that went right up to a sewage treatment plant. This was where the Arbiter knew Brady would find his next ride out of town.

  He saw the gate to the plant; he figured this must be some secondary sewage treatment facility; the security amounted to a padlock on a gate; and that padlock was hanging there loosely through the hole in the latch. Yep – the Arbiter was in the right place. He ran over to the gate and looked around. He didn’t see any video cameras; he guessed nobody really wants to break into a sewage treatment facility. He crept around a large round sewer tank, and on the other side were several work vans. Before coming all the way around the tank out into the open, he could see Brady climbing up into one of the big white Chevy vans. He heard the motor turn over, and then he watched Brady carefully maneuver his way in reverse, and then shift into Drive and go back around the other side of the tank up the road to the gate. The Arbiter saw another empty van. He was hoping he hadn’t forgotten how to hotwire a vehicle. Since Brady was driving in the other direction, the Arbiter ran over to the next Chevy van in line. The door was unlocked, but the inconvenient owners didn’t happen to leave any keys. The Arbiter reached under the steering wheel and ripped out a small panel covering some wiring and a miniature console. Brady ripped apart a couple of the wires, and then rubbed the ends together. The engine of the Chevy van roared to life, and the Arbiter was in business. He slowly took his newly acquired vehicle down the same path that Brady had taken. He stopped just as he saw Brady ahead, pulling out through the gate of the plant. The Arbiter watched him drive away slowly, comfortable with the fact that he hadn’t been made by Brady yet. He ended up going out the same gate, and followed Brady from a safe distance down the road. He would catch up to him sooner or later. Although he had a pistol to eliminate Brady, his game was one of stealth, just as Brady’s had been. The Arbiter decided to follow Brady. He would watch him, wait for the least expected moment, and then strike. He no longer needed the help of the agents. The Jesus Assassin was his loose end to tie.

  Agent Knox’s head shot up at the sound of a shriek in the darkness. He glanced back at the EMT’s as they finished their futile work on Beth. He gathered some resolve; there was nothing more he could do for his girlfriend. He closed his eyes and said a quick prayer, and he looked at the window. He took a running start, and hoisted himself up and through. He landed shortly on some kind of hill, and ran in the direction he had heard the loud, painful cry. He rounded several piles of different construction materials, and headed towards large stacks of wooden planks. He almost hit his head on a plank sticking out from one of the piles, and ducked under at the last second. He turned the next corner, and found his Muslim friend, lying under a large pile of two-by-fours. Knox quickly but carefully started removing the pieces of wood, and saw the obvious signs of broken bones. Both of his lower legs looked twisted at a weird angle, and his right arm was severely distorted in shape. He knew better than to move Malik, but didn’t know whether he was dead or alive. He quickly knelt down next to his neck and placed two fingers below Malik’s jawbone. There was a strong pulse. That was a good sign. He checked the area for any signs of the assassin – or worse – Beth’s killer; and he ran back to get the EMT’s. They had one more body to check; at least this one could still be helped.

  40

  Greensboro, North Carolina

  Greensboro Central Hospital

  Knox was sitting there reading the newspaper at the foot of Malik’s hospital bed. He read anything but the stories on crime or the FBI, the Jesus Assassin, or anything that pertained to violence. Instead he flipped back and forth between the Real Estate ads and the Sports Section. He always hated this time of year in sports…baseball, baseball, and more baseball. He flipped back to a page of three story brick homes in the Greensboro Proper area, close to downtown. He was starting to contemplate moving back down south when Malik started to stir.

  It had been four days since their encounter with the Jesus Assassin, and Malik had been in and out of consciousness. He hadn’t quite had enough will power to speak until this moment.

  “Did you happen to get the license plate of the truck that hit me?” he mumbled.

  Knox laughed and put the paper down. “Hey, friend. How are you feeling? I got you some orange juice if you like.”

  Malik gathered a little strength and started to sit up. Agent Knox got up to assist his friend; he got some extra pillows from the chair nearby and stuffed them carefully behind his teammate’s back. Malik looked around the room, and asked Knox, “Where’s Beth…she’s not”-Knox held up a hand, and put the orange juice in Malik’s reach.

  “Malik…Beth didn’t make it. I’m sorry – you’ve been in and out, but I had to tell you.” He gave Malik a moment, and the two law men sat there quietly. Malik had a good, soft cry. After a few sniffs, and sips of orange juice, he looked up at Knox.

  “Knox – I’m sorry…it’s my fault. If I had just taken Brady down sooner, it wouldn’t have happened.”

  “You just stop right there, Malik. Nobody is taking the blame for this…nobody except whoever fired that sniper rifle!” Malik looked back down. “Yeah – I heard the shot, too. Any evidence to the shooter?”

  Knox shook his head. “Nope…some new agents have been assigned our case; for obvious reasons. They couldn’t find any casings from anywhere on the construction site, or the roof of the mosque. But I have a hunch it’s whoever sent us to Brady’s cabin. We were used, my friend.”

  Malik nodded. They both figured out there was some kind of government conspiracy here. Knox had told Beth and Malik that he thought that Brady was still working for the CIA in some fashion, and just used his resources to carry out his crimes against Muslims. If that were the case, it stood to reason that the US powers-that-be decided they did not need to be linked to the responsibility of so many dead imams.

  After another awkward moment of silence, Malik asked Knox, “When’s the funeral?” Knox replied simply, “Day after tomorrow.”

  “You think you can get me out of this place by then? At least for the funeral?” Malik asked his newly trustworthy friend.

  Knox smiled and patted Malik’s bed. “I’ll sure as heck try.” Malik looked into his Christian friend’s eyes and softly said, “John – I know how much she meant to you. She talked to
me a little bit about you, you know. She loved you so much. I’ve seen women in love before – that chick was ready to marry you.”

  Knox chuckled, even though a tear came down his cheek. “Well, she was fond of you, too friend. As a matter of fact, she told me – before she was gone – to take care of you.”

  Malik reflected on these words, and replied, “You do realize – you and Beth were my only real friends over here; at least the only ones that I have had contact with in the last ten years or so.” Malik leaned his head back over his pillows and smiled. He thought back to a moment when he and Beth were in a hotel room suite, laughing and joking after Knox had turned in early. “She was pretty special, wasn’t she?”

  Knox smiled and nodded, “That she was, Malik. That she was.”

  As they sat there a while longer, Knox’s wheels started turning in his head. He thought about the man that pulled the trigger; that took Beth from him and his friend Malik. He thought about how they had been baited to hunt the assassin, only to draw him out for this mysterious sniper to mistakenly kill their beloved Agent White. He thought about Malik, and how he would have to go back home to Belgium after this. He thought about Interpol, and the questions Malik might have to answer. He thought about Beth’s last wish; how she wanted Malik to share in the joy and comfort that she had so recently found – the same joy that raised a temperamental John Knox into adulthood. Then he had a wild thought.

  “Hey Malik…once you’re all healed up, and you’ve flown home to talk to your chief…I have an idea.”