The stage was set; the players in costume and on their marks. There had been no time for dress rehearsal, but the script was familiar to all who stood in the Israeli dusk, poised to fight and die in the name of their respective God.
The lines were solid; a tribute to the tried and tested ways of war forged of steel before the powers of steel were fully realized in man's command. They stood like warriors of the American Civil War, ready to unleash their fury a string at a time with more zeal to grace the front line than fear of what may happen to them when it was their turn to stand at the point.
The Western Wall tunnel had been filled in with concrete to prevent a flanking attack. The only access to the Temple Mount now was via Bridge Street; a narrow passage through the Muslim Quarter that would choke the incoming string of humanity down to a manageable flow. The plan was to flay them once they were clear of the chicane; chopping them down with pitchforks, cleavers and sledge hammers.
Commander Washington had helped plan the defense of the Dome, but he refused to stand by and observe from height to direct the flow of combat. He was eager to be in the fray, positioning himself at the center of the frontline with a mighty axe in his grasp.
The older warriors like Terry and Michelle Jackson stood much further back in the pack; a last bastion intended more as human shields to push and shove if the front was breached than a true offensive line.
Denisa and David were perched high above the stage in a crow's nest constructed in haste, both clenching pairs of cracked binoculars. They would monitor the condition of the force and attempt to communicate direction when a particular flank was in trouble.
Jennings had returned from his outing and climbed to the heights to discuss the coming battle.
"Are we ready?" He asked the Mashiach.
"I think so -- as ready as we'll ever be."
"Is everyone accounted for?" David asked. "Don't get me wrong - there are a lot of people... but I don't see getting through millions with this force. Are there more yet to come?"
The preacher ran through the list of disciples in his head, hoping to discover one was absent so that there was hope for a larger turnout.
"There are a few missing, actually." He explained. "First - there was one with the solider. A second -- Italian man, I think."
"He stayed behind." David recounted from what Washington had told him along their journey. "At the prison."
"So Washington brought no one with him?"
"Nope -- just himself. Trust me, he counts as several men in one."
"Still - I had hoped for more." Jennings lamented. "Then there is the Sutter family... Hope, Terry and Carmen."
"All three were to come together?"
"Correct, and all three are missing."
"How many do you figure they were going to bring?" Denisa asked.
"I can't say... their town was strange." The preacher replied. "The people seemed unaffected there. I swear, if I hadn't known better I would've thought they had no idea what was going on in the rest of the world.. It wasn't a large city, but had they rallied everyone I imagine they would've brought us quite a few bodies."
"You speak as though you don't expect them to show up." David pointed out.
"I don't know what to expect from them... Hope said that the Lord had told them they would be pivotal. I can't imagine they would stand us up after hearing something like that from Christ himself."
"What about the twelfth disciple?" Denisa inquired. "Did you come up with any ideas as to who it might be?"
"None... for all I can tell, the man doesn't exist."
"Either that or he works with the other side."
"Heavenly God, I hope not."
The preacher surveyed the scene one last time before stepping back onto the ladder that had brought him up into the nest. He wiped the sweat from his brow as he gave his parting advice.
"I'm going to prepare; I'm counting on the two of you to be The Lord's eyes for the duration of this skirmish. Stand tall -- hold the line."
"Until our last breaths." Denisa returned. "You still haven't told me what this plan of your is. Might your trusted general get a glimpse behind the curtain?"
"I'm sorry, Denisa." He said. "You wouldn't understand. You'll know, soon enough."
"Where will you be?" David asked. "In case we need you."
"I need a quiet place to work; I figure I'll be good inside The Dome."
"No!" Denisa exclaimed in response. "The Dome is strictly off limits, as is the Mosque."
"What?" Jennings argued. "Don't be ridiculous, Denisa! You pay respect to the demons that would have us destroyed?"
"I don't want to hear it, Cameron." She snapped. "You don't have to like it, but if we are to peacefully co-exist you will have to learn to accept it. No one enters the Dome Of The Rock or the Al-Aqsa; that's all I ask of you."
The preacher was clearly aggravated, but he knew he had little choice but to oblige.
"Very well." He said regretfully. "How about the Well, then?"
"If the rift has closed, that will do just fine." She returned.
"Last I checked, it had." David commented. "It took a while to seal, but it appears to have disappeared completely."
Jennings simply nodded as he made his way back down to Earth, leaving David and Denisa alone to further survey the field. The Mashiach was a bit taken with the man, however, so she was happy to make small talk before the battle began.
"Sealed completely, did you say?" She inquired.
"Indeed..."
"Well, the last plane for the States left quite some time ago; don't know when the next flight is slated to leave. Looks like you're stuck here for the duration then."
"Yeah," he replied. "I'm not too taken with the comforts of air travel at this point anyhow... could say I had a bad experience with airports."
"How do you feel about that?"
"About what? Flying again?"
"No." She giggled. "Making Israel your home."
"I hadn't given it much thought, to be honest." He returned. "Haven't exactly gotten to see the sights in the short time I've been here."
"It's a wonderful place." She described. "You'll have to travel to Tel Aviv one day -- what's left of it, at least. I spent many glorious nights there, when I was young."
"You speak as though you're old now, but you hardly look the part."
"I'm closing on thirty fast, young David."
"Dave." He replied. "Please, call me Dave. David is too formal, and I've never gone for formalities. I'd hate to die next to someone who addresses me like a common stranger. Seeing as you're so incredibly old, I assume you want me to call you m'am?"
"I'd rather you didn't!" She bubbled through her smile. "Denisa will do just right, thank you."
"I guess it's just as well. I'm twenty-six now, I think..."
"You think?"
"I was slated to have a birthday three months after I got married -- I'm pretty sure it's passed, now."
"Oh, so I'm stuck up here with a married man?" She wondered selfishly. "Cursed be the fates!"
David's face dropped a bit, emotion clearly taking hold of him. Denisa didn't know what she had said, but it was obvious that she had struck a nerve.
"Oh Dave..." She began. "Did your wife not survive the journey?"
"She didn't even have a chance to try." He said, choking back tears. "Tracey was killed at our airport... planes were crashing all around us, and she was impaled by a spear of glass from one of the windows."
Denisa recoiled at the story, realizing the trauma she must've inflicted with her unintentional jabbing.
"I'm so sorry, Dave! My God, I've been making jokes about planes -- if I had any idea I would never --"
"It's okay." David interrupted, putting on a brave face. "I've mostly come to terms with it; I was fine until she -- she appeared to me on the beach before we came here. I haven't been able to get her face out of my head since I saw her."
; "It will never stop hurting." She advised as though through first-hand knowledge. "You'll think you've moved on -- left it behind you. Just when you think it's safe, something will remind you of her. Something as simple as a song, a look in someone's eye - a picture you thought you'd tucked away. You'll never be truly free of the pain... never."
"So --" He hesitated. "How do you do it?"
"A day at a time." She explained. "Take it as it comes... I'd rather have it this way than to forget all together, though -- so I guess it could be worse. My parents used to tell me that every moment of pleasure had to be purchased with an equal amount of suffering; the pleasure was incredible, so I should've expected the sticker shock that came after."
"How did you lose him?"
"In an operation." She continued.
"He was a soldier as well?"
"Yes -- the best of the best. IDF Special Forces... God, I loved that man. He was brilliant in the theater... I still don't understand what happened. They told me there was a mistake... a miscalculation of some kind. He ended up being captured by the Palestinians.. I knew he was dead as soon as I heard he was a hostage, so I started grieving immediately."
"You didn't hold any hope in negotiations?"
"There is no negotiating with those people... there never has been. We found his remains -- most of them, at least, a week after he went missing. They had done unspeakable things to him... I can't imagine the suffering he endured."
"I'm sorry, sweetie." He consoled her.
"My, how our roles have reversed." She chuckled, largely ignoring the demeaning pet-name he had used to address her. "So long as you maintain a goal -- a purpose for yourself... if you keep your head held high, you will always be okay. She'll always be with you, too -- whether you're a believer or not. You'll feel her sometimes... usually when you're feeling the most alone you could ever imagine being."
"I miss her so much." David confessed, this time not able to restrain his sobbing. "I just don't understand... I was right next to her. Why did I get away with nothing more than a cut on my face while she lay there dying? Why couldn't it have been me to die there? She was so much better a person than I am... she didn't deserve to leave this world like that."
"You could look at it two ways, I suppose." She suggested. "You could fall in line with only the good die young, or you could decide that God felt your work wasn't done here... that He had something planned for you which he would not allow you to escape."
"Neither makes me feel any better."
"Nothing will... but you have to find a way to get through the long nights alone."
"Movement! Movement!" The booming voice of Commander Washington announced.
Denisa and David readied their binoculars, looking out across the Mount to the Muslim Quarter where shadows stirred in the morning sun.
Despite having witnessed incredible battles across the breadth of her land, Denisa was stunned to see such an incredible mass of people descending upon the Temple Mount. Intelligent words left her in the shock, bringing just two simple words which spilled from her lips involuntarily.
"It's begun!"
Chapter 35
Unholy Advent: Deception Of The Christ Page 34