The Seventh Vial: A Novel of the Great Tribulation (The Days of Elijah Book 4)

by Mark Goodwin

  “Seems as if we did. Actually, I can’t take much credit for it.” Everett passed Sadat a small New Testament from his back pocket.

  “What is this?” Sadat slowly squatted by the brook.

  “Living Water.” Everett smiled.

  Sadat took a drink with his hand from the stream and passed the small book back to Everett. “No thank you. I am Muslim.”

  “Pardon me for saying so, but you don’t appear to be all that—enthusiastic about practicing Islam.”

  “Then I probably would not make a good Christian either.” Sadat smirked and headed back to the villa.

  Courtney took the Bible from Everett. “How about I leave this on the table when we leave? You never know, you might want to know what’s coming next. Every plague that’s happened so far has been spelled out in the pages of this book.”

  “If you will leave me alone about it, you can put it on the table,” Sadat conceded. “But for now, we must hurry. We will be late to meet with Tariq.”

  “Should we bring some blood from the sea to demonstrate the staff for Tariq?” Courtney asked.

  “There will be plenty of blood where we are going.” Sadat led the way through the gate. “But I would not do this demonstration for Tariq. He does not need to know how you are turning blood to water. Maybe he don’t take your word that he cannot perform the miracle himself if he have the staff.”

  “Duly noted.” Everett waited for Doruk and Courtney to walk through the gate, then pulled it shut.

  “I’ll insist that Everett and I be alone to pray over the blood for it to convert back into water.” Courtney looked at Everett for approval of the improvised plan.

  He gave a shallow nod. “That should work.”

  Sadat rode in a desert-tan Humvee with three of his guards. Everett and his team followed close behind in the Mercedes GL. Sadat’s vehicle led them deep into the mountains, away from the Black Sea. The small village of Ispir, Turkey was nestled in the mountains, approximately 60 miles southeast of Sadat’s villa. Ispir was located on a reservoir created by a dam on the Chorokhi River. Its secluded position and abundant supply of fresh water would have made it the ideal location for survival if the water had not turned to blood.

  A few miles east along the reservoir was the dam. Just beyond that was a tunnel that took the modest two-lane road through the core of a mountain. On the other side of the mountain was a gravel clearing where five heavily armored Russian military vehicles sat next to a gold Bentley Bentayga SUV.

  Sadat’s Humvee pulled into the clearing. Everett followed. Sadat motioned for Everett and Courtney to join him as he exited the vehicle to greet a man wearing jeans, a tan blazer, and a black and tan shemagh draped high around his neck which partially obscured his bearded face. The man wore large wire-framed sunglasses and very short hair. He was nothing like the image of Sheik Tariq Everett had painted in his head.

  Tobias, Ali, and Gideon remained in the vehicle.

  “This is Tariq the Sheik,” Sadat said, turning to Everett and Courtney.

  “A pleasure to meet you.” Everett shook the man’s hand, introducing himself and Courtney.

  Tariq wasted no time with pleasantries. He turned to the first three MRAPs. “These are Russian Typhoons. Each is mounted with remote-controlled 50-caliber machine gun turret. The other two are also Russian. They are called Patrol, manufactured by Asteys. They don’t have turret, but the Patrols offer six hatches on top, which can provide six gunmen the ability to shoot from the top of the vehicle with their personal firearms or RPGs.”

  Sadat signaled for Tariq to take a break. “There has been a slight change in plans.”

  The sheik’s expression soured instantaneously. “Sadat, how long do I work with you? You never try something like this before.”

  Sadat nodded affirmatively with his hands up. “Exactly, which is why you owe it to me to at least hear me out before you get upset.”

  Tariq glanced at the gold Rolex on his wrist. “Make it fast and make it good. I am very unhappy about having this sprung on me last minute.”

  “Okay. My clients were robbed coming through Rize. Evidently, they were overheard on the radio talking about the diamonds, and when they would be delivering them to me.”

  “Not my problem, Sadat!”

  “Please—allow me to finish.” Sadat’s eyebrows lowered, becoming less apologetic and more demanding. “I had the same initial reaction as you are having. But, my guests soon convinced me that they had something far more valuable to offer than diamonds.”

  “There are few things more valuable, Sadat. So quit baiting me and tell me what you have to offer.”

  “It was their God, the God of the Jews and the Christians, who changed the water to blood.”

  “Then please remember to thank Him for me.” Tariq pressed his lips together tightly as he glared at Everett.

  Sadat continued. “And their God has given them the power to change it back.”

  “I never suspected you to be a fool who would believe these childish superstitions, Sadat.” Tariq began walking toward the Bentley and motioned for his men to get in the military vehicles. “Don’t call me ever again. And thank whatever God you pray to that I am not going to kill you today for wasting my time.”

  Sadat evidently knew where Tariq’s base of operations was. “You have to drive back by the reservoir. We’ll go ahead. It will only take you a minute to stop and see if what I say is true. If I speak the truth to you, it would be you who is the fool for passing up such an opportunity.”

  Tariq turned and watched as Sadat motioned for Everett and Courtney to follow him in their SUV.

  Everett jumped back in the driver’s seat and turned to Courtney who was getting in behind him. “Find some string, quick!”

  “What’s the plan?” she asked as Everett sped away to keep up with Sadat who was already racing back through the tunnel.

  “We’ve got one shot at convincing this guy. We’re going to turn the reservoir back to water.”

  CHAPTER 8

  So the waters were healed unto this day, according to the saying of Elisha which he spake.

  2 King 2:22

  Everett threw the shifter into park and jumped out of the vehicle leaving the motor running. He pulled a fifty-foot length of paracord from his assault pack.

  Courtney got out of the vehicle with the staff. “It’s going to take some time to turn that much blood to water! Tariq will be here any second!”

  “Then we better move fast!” Everett exclaimed.

  “What can we do to help?” Ali asked.

  “You, Tobias, and Gideon line up by the ledge of the reservoir and start praying.” Everett secured the paracord to the staff and began lowering it into the crimson pool below. “Heads bowed, eyes closed, and on your knees. Optics matter this time.”

  The three of them followed Everett’s directive. Tobias knelt with his hands together in prayer by the guardrail overlooking the reservoir. He opened one eye and watched Everett. “If we turn the reservoir to water, Tariq has no reason to bargain with us.”

  “The Chorokhi is still pouring hundreds of gallons of blood into the reservoir every minute. It won’t stay clear for more than an hour, once I pull the staff back out.” Everett tied off the paracord at the base of the guardrail to allow the staff to wade freely in the reservoir below.

  Courtney pointed at the water, several feet out from the edge where the staff was submerged. “It’s working.”

  “I need more paracord!” Everett said.

  Courtney raced to the Mercedes and retrieved the paracord from her pack. She brought it to Everett. “Here!”

  The gold Bentley SUV pulled through the tunnel and parked next to Sadat’s Humvee. Tariq got out and scowled at Sadat who was standing along the rail next to Doruk. “I feel like such an imbecile for even considering this.”

  “Not for long. Look. The reservoir has turned back to water.” Sadat pointed at the body of water below.

  Tariq said nothing as h
e stood near the rail shaking his head. “This cannot be. We drove by here less than thirty minutes ago. It was blood. I am sure of it.” He looked on in unbelief at Tobias, Ali, and Gideon who were making a bigger show of their prayers than actually communing with the Father.

  “Can you drink it?” Tariq’s forehead was furrowed in distrust.

  “Sure. I just need something to draw it up with. I have some cord.” Everett presented the paracord to Tariq.

  Tariq snatched the cord from his hand. “I’ll draw it up, and you’ll drink it. No more bait and switch today.” Tariq walked to his golden Bentley and retrieve an empty water bottle. He tied a knot in the paracord around the neck of the bottle and picked up enough stones from the ground to weight the empty bottle so it would sink in the water. He lowered it over the rail. The bottle sank, and the sheik pulled it back up. He shoved the bottle into Everett’s chest with a snarl. “Drink it all.”

  Everett took the bottle which was now filled with crystal clear water and still had the paracord tied around the neck. He tipped it back and chugged the entire liter, being careful not to let any of the pebbles wash into his mouth. He passed the bottle back to Tariq.

  The sheik watched suspiciously, then took back the bottle, and tossed it over the rail to refill it. This time he handed it to Sadat. “Take a drink.”

  Sadat began to chug the bottle just as Everett had. Tariq snapped his fingers twice and held his hand out toward Sadat. “Give it back.”

  Sadat obliged. Tariq sipped from the bottle. He took a second drink; then a third drink, longer than the first two. He looked at the water, then up at Everett. “I do not know how you did. But you did it. I cannot deny it.” He cocked one eye and pointed at Everett. “If this is some kind of trick, I will kill you. There is nowhere on earth you can hide from me. I have people everywhere. But, for now, I suppose we can renegotiate our arrangement. This reservoir, will it stay clear?”

  “No.” Everett shook his head. “Once we quit praying, the blood pouring into it from the Chorokhi will soon pollute it.”

  “What about a well? Can you make a well permanently turn to water?”

  “Tell me about the well.” Everett stuck his hands in his pockets.

  “It is an old open well, from the fourteenth century. It has a stone wall around it, with a wooden frame and handle to lower and raise buckets for retrieving the water.”

  “I think we can. Without knowing if some other water source flows into it, I can’t say for sure, but I will give you my word. If there is a problem with the well, we’ll keep trying until we find an isolated water source for you.”

  Tariq crossed his arms and stood with his feet apart. “Can you do this now?”

  “We need to be alone with the well to pray over it. No unbelievers can be present when we begin praying.”

  Tariq rolled his eyes. “You sound like MOC. Why can no unbeliever be present? I am here now while these guys pray.”

  “Yes, but when we began it was only us,” Everett rebutted.

  “Sadat was here.” Tariq motioned toward his robust acquaintance.

  “Sadat and Doruk waited reverently in the car until you arrived.”

  Tariq still seemed to detect that he wasn’t getting the whole truth but appeared to be more anxious about getting his well converted than to continue pursuing the matter. “Okay, whatever. I’ll go back and get my men. When we pass back through the tunnel, you’ll follow us to my compound. No one ever comes to my home, so once you leave, never come back. Is that understood?”

  “Perfectly.” Everett watched the arrogant arms dealer walk back to his luxury SUV and drive back through the tunnel.

  “All clear.” Courtney immediately pulled the staff up out of the reservoir.

  Everett untied the paracord from the rail. “Let’s go!”

  Everett’s team loaded into the Mercedes, while Sadat and Doruk got in the Humvee.

  Minutes later, Tariq the Sheik’s convoy motored out the tunnel. Everett pulled in behind the last armored vehicle and followed it to the sheik’s lair.

  Tariq’s convoy led them through the small village of Ispir, then continued past the town to where the pavement ended. The road became more coarse, jarring everyone in the cabin of the Mercedes as they maintained an adequate speed to keep up.

  Everett kept a firm grip on the steering wheel. “I was wondering why anyone would want a Bentley SUV.”

  “Now you have your answer,” Tobias said from behind Everett.

  “It’s the only Bentley anyone is going to be driving on this road,” Gideon added.

  The convoy turned off the dirt road onto what looked like a path for a tractor. Two lines of dirt pierced an otherwise untouched area of grass and low shrubbery through a thick tree line.

  “I guess this is the place.” Everett stopped the vehicle behind the military vehicles and got out. The area was heavily wooded, probably to cover Tariq’s activities from satellite and drone observation. Everett spotted at least a dozen guards wearing woodland camo patterns posted near various trees. He saw a dilapidated barn and another larger outbuilding with metal siding, but nothing that looked like the main dwelling structure for a rich-and-famous international arms dealer.

  Tariq walked up to the Mercedes and motioned for Everett to get out. “Follow me.”

  Everett nodded and opened his door. He looked at his team. “We’ll all go.”

  “Hold on!” Tariq held up his hand. “What is this? Why is everyone getting out of the vehicle?”

  “We’re all going to pray for your well,” Everett answered as if the sheik's question was the silliest thing he’d ever heard.

  “Only three of you were praying for the reservoir.”

  “We all prayed before you got there.” Everett paused so not to upset the sheik. “Besides, the reservoir is going to turn back to blood. We want it to take the first time. I’d rather not have to come back. No offense to your fine property here, but it’s a long drive for us.”

  That statement seemed to settle the matter for Tariq. He tossed his hands in the air. “Okay, fine. Do what you have to do.” He pointed at the duffle bag which Courtney carried. “But no weapons. Leave the bag in the car.”

  She looked at Everett.

  “It’s not a weapon,” Everett assured the sheik.

  “Okay. Open it up. Let me see what it is.” Tariq the Sheik walked toward Courtney.

  Everett stepped between them. “Do you want your well to give you drinking water or do you want to continue to be a rather impolite host— molesting your female guest by invading her privacy and treating her suspiciously? Some people might take offense to such treatment and walk away.”

  Tariq glared at Everett for a moment, like the two of them were playing a game of chicken, seeing who would cave in first.

  Everett wouldn’t be the one to give. No way he was about to tip his hand about the staff after the warning Sadat gave him. If he had to, he’d put the team back in the car, and they’d figure out something else. They stood a better chance taking the Jews across Turkey without military vehicles than without water.

  Tariq looked him up and down and must have sensed that Everett wouldn’t budge. “Fine. Take your bag. And remember, for every guard you see, there’s five more that you don’t see. If you try something here, you’ll die where you stand.”

  “Fair enough. Where’s the well?”

  Tariq motioned toward the barn. “Behind there. You’ll see it. There is a one-meter stone wall around it with a red metal roof over the wooden frame.”

  Everett nodded and led his team to the barn. He spoke quietly. “When we get there, everyone gather around the draw well and pray. Pray that we pull this off and get out of here alive. Pray that none of his guards notice the staff and that Tariq doesn’t rip us off.”

  “Yes, Everett. I am praying even now as we walk,” Ali said.

  “Good.”

  They reached the well and knelt around it. Everett subtly took the staff and tossed it over the side,
holding firmly onto the paracord. “Lord, we pray that you’ll turn this well to water, see us through this mission and bring us safely back to Batumi with the equipment we’re purchasing here today.”

  “Amen,” Courtney said.

  Everett sat silently for a couple minutes, then reeled in the staff. “Ali, turn the crank to the draw rope. Let’s see if we’ve got water.”

  Ali pulled the bucket to himself as it reached the top of the well. “Water! Praise God!”

  “Praise God, indeed.” Everett looked at Courtney. “Take the staff back to the SUV. Tobias, Gideon, escort her. Ali, you come with me to tell Tariq he’s got fresh water.”

  When they arrived back to the area where the vehicles were parked, Everett gave Sadat a nod to let him know the water was good. He informed Tariq that they’d been successful and walked back with him to the well.

  Tariq took a deep drink directly from the bucket, then passed Everett five sets of keys. “No more magic tricks. When you come for the balance of your merchandise, come with the diamonds or don’t come at all.”

  Everett nodded. “I understand perfectly.”

  “You have couple cases of grenades, RPGs, and shoulder-fired missiles in the Typhoons. The rest of the items are going to be similar quality to these. If you don’t like something, you tell Sadat by tomorrow. I should have everything ready by next Thursday.”

  “Can you push it to Wednesday? We’re on a deadline.” Everett figured the next judgment would be poured upon the Earth on the following Friday. He wanted to be settled underground well in advance of the scorching heat of the Fourth Vial.

  Tariq said grimly, “I’ll try.”

  “And we were supposed to have anti-aircraft guns.”

  “This is the thing holding me up. I am trying to find the right trailers for them. They need big tires because the guns are heavy and the roads are bad. Usually they are in the back of a pickup truck, but Sadat did not negotiate for this.”

  “Can I bring you ten pickup trucks? I can drop them here tomorrow.”