Agent finds a Warrior

by Guy Stanton III

  Actually I hadn’t known that.

  “Maybe I just like to see you squirm and moan from unavoidable pleasure for hours on end.”

  She made as if to slap me, but chuckling I stepped backward and opened my eyes.

  My eyes met her now opened ones as we lay together in the darkened bedroom. Her eyes reflected the wrathful payback she wished to enact for how I had tormented her all afternoon, but she couldn’t slap me because her hands were still tied. A fact that she was very much aware of. Her eyes were stormy as she gazed at me.

  “I’m sorry. I should’ve asked. Do you forgive me?”

  She chewed her full lower lip for a moment indecisively before giving in, “I forgive you, but next time I get to tie you up!”

  “That seems fair.” I admitted, as I leaned up on one elbow and started to untie her hands, but her words stopped me.

  “Did I say I wanted you to untie me?”

  I glanced down into her playful eyes that bore no trace of the awfulness of her past or of the need for revenge, because of how I had taken advantage of her instead of just asking as I should’ve.

  It was wonderful to be her man. I didn’t have to be perfect, because all she cared about was how I loved her.

  I kissed my captive bride all thought of releasing her, gone, as she seemed rather content to be as she was, forever mine.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Free of the Past

  Monday morning came and so did the people. They came in droves. They overflowed out of the church and the Spirit of God fell upon them all.

  There were miracles done and languages only known to God spoken. The blind saw and the lame walked. People were saved as the love of Christ was replenished in the hearts of those who had grown cold to it.

  The revival stretched on and became a week in duration. Employers came to see what had become of their employees and in turn got saved themselves. Through it all Zora watched the hand of God moving upon the lives of others, as she helped and was of use wherever she could be.

  The service was in its seventh hour on the Monday of the second week of the revival, when Zora left the front of the church filled with worshipers to head back to the back and sit and rest for a while.

  On her way she saw a man standing at the back of the church with a deer in the headlights look in his eyes. He was Middle Eastern.

  A congregation member approached in an attempt to outreach to the man, but it was clear that the man did not speak English well enough to fully understand what the church member was saying.

  Zora stepped closer and in fluent Arabic said, “Welcome to the house of God friend. What brings you here?”

  The man looked astonished to hear his own language and quickly responded, “I had a vision last night of a man with holes in his hands and feet. He told me to come here. I am here, but I do not understand why.” The man said, as he relayed in evident mystery as to why he a practicing Muslim should be told by a man with unquestionable authority in a dream to come to a Christian church.

  Zora began to explain to him then the symbolism of his encounter as well as the gospel of the man named Jesus, who had come in the flesh being the Son of God and who had died for all so that all who believed in Him and put their faith in Him alone could have everlasting life.

  The man labored with a simple concept of the part of the process though by which salvation is attained by belief in Jesus and what he did for all.

  “This forgiveness. I do not understand it! How can a man who I never met, who is God, but walked as a man on this Earth forgive me so far forward into the future, when I never knew of Him?”

  Zora studied the man closely for a moment and then said, “Your father’s father’s name was Imalic Soliga.”

  The man stared at her in astonishment and then in further astonishment when she said both where he had lived and that he had been a soldier who did great evil in the persecution of Armenian Christians.

  “I am a daughter of Armenia and I forgive you for the hatred of your generations towards mine and for the slaughter your grandfather was a part of.” They had been hard words to say, but Zora felt released from her past in a way that she’d never been before.

  The man before her was literally falling apart as tears coursed down his cheeks, “How can you forgive such a crime my family is guilty of against your people?” The man asked imploringly.

  Zora pressed her hand to her heart and said, “I can forgive you, because I have been in turn forgiven for the evils that I have done.”

  She pointed upward and the man got what forgiveness of unmerited favor was like as it was pressed down from above and he broke down saying, “I believe!” Over and over in Arabic.

  He started to sink to his knees, but Zora caught him and pulled him up and down toward the front of the church, “Come and let us worship God, who has turned an enemy into a friend, even as we both are now the heirs to the same promise that God set in place for both of us before the foundation of the world.”

  “Let it be so!” The man exclaimed heartily and then he said, “And let it be so for my family to! For I will bring all of them, who will come into the house of my Jesus and we will no longer serve the god of this world, who is not a god, but who is a liar and a thief of men’s souls and known by such names as they for even they are among the forty names attributed to him and by which he is called among my people!”

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  The revival went on into its third week, but we weren’t there for it. We were back to walking down endless rows of corn and by fields of hay.

  I gave a longing look at every wheat field we passed, but Zora rolled her eyes at me. She wasn’t budging on that one. We walked along in amicable silence for several hours.

  “So where are we going now? What stone or church will we turn over next?” Zora asked with excitement.

  I grinned, “Who knows. I don’t. Something inevitably always comes up though.”

  She smiled in return at me and said, “I love sharing this job with you Elon!”

  “I love sharing it with you Zora!”

  More time passed by before Zora asked, “Do you see that kind of changeover in churches often?”

  I shook my head no, “No, such outpourings are rare. Not because the Spirit of God isn’t willing, but rather because the Spirit of God isn’t pursued in order to bring revival. People settle for the substance of a cracker when they could’ve had a whole meal.”

  Zora nodded, “I was talking to one of the pastors and he was saying that for many believers their faith has come down to attending church a few times a year most notably at Christmas and Easter.”

  I nodded grimly at the sad revelation of faith in America. I had seen it all before, but America at one time had been a special place. It was hard to see a path of return to that former glory, but nothing was impossible for God.

  I glanced at Zora, “That sad revelation aside something that really bothers me is that the two religious events that these people choose to attend are the most mixed up of all. Christmas should be celebrated in September when Jesus was actually born. It was moved to December by the early church to coincide with a pagan holiday. Their hope was that by giving the pagans a chance to still be able to celebrate something that more of them would convert to Christianity. Whether that worked I’m not sure, but the paganistic symbolism of the Christmas tree and Santa Claus, which translates back to a Babylonian god all muddy up the birth of Jesus in a way that I do not like. Easter in my opinion is an even worse tragedy.”

  “How is Easter a tragedy?” Zora exclaimed.

  “Well for starters it shouldn’t be called Easter, but instead it should be called Resurrection Day. The holiday like Christmas was moved to line up with a pagan holiday. Resurrection Day should be celebrated several weeks earlier than it typically is in much of the Christian world. Remember the name of the demon I wrestled with at Flint’s house in Italy?”

  “It was Ishtar wasn’t it?” Zora said hesitantly and I n
odded in confirmation.

  “Ishtar was a woman in early Babylonian times who set herself up to be worshiped as a fertility goddess. She was a witch and like any time when someone delves into the dark magic or the occult they expose themselves to being possessed by demons, which become the person’s familiar spirit. A familiar spirit is a demon that can manifest the persona of the person it inhabits as well as having access to that person’s memories and thoughts.”

  Zora cut in, “You’re saying that when people report seeing long dead relatives walking about or haunting a place that it isn’t the actual person, but rather a demon manifesting the form of someone they once inhabited?”

  “Yes I am. When people die they die. There is no lingering around. These demonic manifestations are able to trick people into believing that they are their human counterparts, because they know everything there former hosts knew. When you hear of psychics supposedly contacting the other side and talking with family members, who are dead there really talking with demons in disguise.”

  “I did not know that.” Zora said softly.

  She glanced over at me puzzled looking and asked, “What does this fertility goddess Ishtar have to do with Easter?”

  “Ishtar translates over into English from ancient Babylonian as Easter and it’s her day that is celebrated instead of the resurrection of Jesus from the grave.”

  Zora was staring at me shocked and a little disgusted at what had been revealed.

  “Do you know what the symbols of Ishtar’s fertility were?”

  I didn’t wait for her to ask, but continued on, “The rabbit and the egg. Think about what the most commonly attributed items of Easter are. The resurrection of Jesus is the last thing that most children in this nation think of when Easter is mentioned. Instead all that comes to mind for them is consuming chocolate bunnies and popping open eggs filled with jelly beans.”

  Zora looked away from me and down the road as she said, “That’s terrible!”

  I nodded grimly, “Evil is always at work seeking to confuse and misconstrue the gospel salvation story and God’s word in general and that’s why one should always prove out what you believe and participate in by looking to the word of God and keeping yourself educated instead of going along with the herd over the cliff.”

  Zora glanced at me and I saw a knowing look come into her eyes, “At Flint’s place you said you killed the human aspect of Ishtar. Dating yourself there aren’t you a bit? All right out with your deep dark secret origins! You found out mine and I want to know yours!”

  I grinned at her but made no effort to say anything.

  She stopped in the middle of the road and crossed her arms, “I want to know!”

  “What do you want to know?” I asked cautiously, but she shook her head as she said, “Don’t make me tie you up and sensually torture you for hours on end to get what I want dear husband.”

  I laughed, but sobered up quickly because she actually looked serious.

  “I was born in the Kingdom of Salem.”

  Her eyebrows rose slightly, “The name Salem sounds familiar, but I can’t place it.”

  “You know it today as Jerusalem.”

  “You’re Jewish?” Zora asked curiously.

  “No, I come before the time that there was even a Hebrew nation.”

  “What did you do in the Kingdom of Salem?”

  “I was a warrior and I served the King of Righteousness. I have continued to serve God through the years ever since.”

  “King of Righteousness? That’s Melchizedek isn’t it?” Zora exclaimed.

  “Yes.”

  “It says in the Book of Hebrews that he was without father or mother or genealogy. Is it really true that he was a manifestation of Jesus?”

  “It is a mystery even yet to me, but that is what I believe yes. Now does that answer all your questions as to my origins?”

  She laughed out loud, “Oh you’re a funny man Elon!”

  She linked her arm with mine and we started out walking as she asked, “Now let’s see. What were you doing when the Romans were…….”

  And so it began her endless game of twenty questions. I really didn’t mind. It was just so nice having someone to talk to about stuff and who was really interested in me and my life.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The Adventure Continues

  I ate my food in the small roadside diner as Zora already done with hers stared at me as if I was an endless occurrence of fascination for her. I saw her eyes light up as another question to pepper me with occurred to her.

  She leaned forward and keeping her voice low so as not to be heard by others in the diner she asked, “Did you ever see dinosaurs?”

  “Sure lots of them. Even rode a few of them.” I said nonchalantly as I continued to eat.

  “Really?” She asked in a hoarse whisper, as if she couldn’t believe what I’d just said.

  I glanced up and reiterated, “Really.”

  Shocked she sat back in her seat, “So I guess all the claims about them being extinct for millions of years is a bunch of rot?”

  “The concept of millions of years in general is a bunch of rot. Since creation was started by God you have only about six thousand years to play around with give or take a few.”

  I let her digest that for a moment before saying, “Besides who said they were all extinct.”

  Her eyes got really big, but I pretended to not notice and kept on eating. Her hand touched mine and I glanced up grinning, “You want to see one don’t you?”

  She nodded her head vigorously and I chuckled.

  “Well let’s see what happens after lunch shall we.”

  She looked disappointed, but nodded obediently.

  I made a very special request then to God, but I heard no answer in return.

  I finished my meal and we got up to go after I had paid.

  I stepped outside followed along by a silent Zora. Endless cornfields beckoned, but I felt the answer to my request.

  Smiling I turned to Zora and offered my hand out to her. She stared at my hand in a nervous daze.

  “Really?” She breathed out.

  “Yes Mrs. Gideon.”

  She brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear nervously, “We’re not going to be eaten are we?”

  “Highly doubtful, but being squashed flat is a possibility.”

  She looked hesitant and so I wiggled my fingers beckoningly, “Oh come on where’s your spirit of adventure my love?”

  She put her hand in mine.

  Gasping Zora stepped closer to me as she stared all around at the dark cast jungle foliage of the Congo at twilight.

  “Welcome to the Congo.” I said pulling her along through the noisy jungle all around us.

  I wondered if she’d ever get over the shock of this experience. I brushed past a few more leafy fronds to stand on the edge of an unexpected clearing. I pulled Zora around in front of me delighting in her look of perplexed awe.

  “It’s grass! Why would there be grass in the middle of a jungle?”

  “In the deepest parts of the Congo there are many such swampy islands of grass. It is a mystery.” I said breathing in the smell of her hair not overly concerned with what was about to happen as I was with the feel of her against me.

  The sun was down, but the twilight glow in the clearing made everything visible.

  “Wait for it.” I said into Zora’s ear in a thematically tensed tone of voice.

  The usual sounds of the jungle were interrupted by the loud stentorian cry of a beast like no other. The cry was echoed by others all along the far edge of the jungle that bordered the clearing. One loud cry echoed out very near to us.

  Trees began to crack and strain loudly as they gave way to something that shook the ground beneath our feet. Zora’s jaw had long since dropped open in astonishment by the time the great lumbering behemoths pushed clear of the surrounding jungle and out into the swampy marsh.

  “That’s a……”

  “Din
osaur.” I said filling in for her.

  “Yes!” She exclaimed all eyes on a creature that the world had thought long since dead.

  “The word dinosaur is a modern word. In the Bible this beast has a different name. It’s name is behemoth.”

  Distracted sounding Zora asked, “Dinosaurs are talked about in the Bible?”

  I quoted directly from the Book of Job to her,

  “Look now at the Behemoth, which I made along with you; he eats grass like an ox. See now, his strength is in his hips, and his power is in his stomach muscles. He moves his tail like a cedar; the sinews of his thighs are tightly knit. His bones are like beams of bronze, his ribs like bars of iron. He is the first of the ways of God; only He who made him can bring near His sword. Surely the mountains yield food for him, and all the beasts of the field play there. He lies under the lotus trees, in a covert of reeds and marsh. The lotus trees cover him with their shade; the willows by the brook surround him. Indeed the river may rage, yet he is not disturbed; he is confidant, though the Jordan gushes into his mouth, though he takes it in his eyes, or one pierces his nose with a snare.”

  After a long moment of reflection she nodded her head and said, “The pretty well captures the picture I’d say.”

  Together we watched the greatest of God’s creation browse in the meadow beyond as the evening shadows thickened. After a while Zora turned around to me and said, “Thank you Elon.”

  Then she said, “Never a dull moment with you Elon is there?”

  She leaned up and started kissing me and I returned the kiss, but I was surprised when she shoved me back against a tree and ripped the front of my shirt open.

  I broke the kiss and grabbed her hands, “Whoa! Time out here! Zora are you seriously trying to convey to me that you want to make out in this bug infested, snake ridden environment in the midst of nature in all of its decaying rottenness as opposed to a nice clean Iowa wheat field?”

  Her tone was exasperated, “Elon you really know how to kill the mood sometimes!”

  I grinned as I grasped her hands, “How about we go about…….”