by Chuck Black
“In sell-defense! We’ll fight this together, Drew.”
“No, Sydney. We’d lose. Even if I did it for the right reasons, law enforcement can’t allow vigilantism.”
“But you saved us from the gang. No one can do what you—”
Drew widened his eyes, and she immediately caught the hint. She froze; then her shoulders slumped. She looked defeated.
“You can’t wait for me, Sydney. You must move on with your life, but you’re going to be all right. I’ve agreed to cooperate with them. They agreed to drop all charges against you in exchange for my confession; then they offered me an alternative to prison. After today you won’t see me again.”
“What’s going to happen to you, Drew?”
“I’m going to disappear again, but this time it’s to serve our country.”
A tear ran down her cheek. “I won’t see you…ever?”
“It’s either this or prison…either way—”
“One more minute, Carter,” Reed called out.
Drew looked at Reed, then back at Sydney. She was shaking her head and tears streamed down her cheeks. She looked like she was going to blurt out something they would both regret. Deep down, he hoped it was her confession of love for him, but he also hoped it wasn’t. He didn’t think he could bear knowing and never living in the embrace of her love. He slowly shook his head, signaling her not to say it.
“I have to tell you something, Drew.” Sydney reached for his hands, and Reed looked away.
“It will only hurt us both, Sydney.” Drew’s eyes reddened. “You deserve someone who can love you completely…who will be there for you every day.” Drew pulled back his hands. “Good-bye, Sydney.”
Reed walked toward Sydney and lifted a hand toward her. “Come along, Miss Carlyle.”
Sydney stood and waited until Drew looked up at her; then she leaned over and grabbed his hand anyway. “I won’t give up praying for you, Drew. You need to know that I’m praying that God and His mighty angels will keep you and protect you from the darkness! Ephesians 6:12 is your verse, Drew. It’s real!”
Drew looked into her eyes and saw the same fire that he always did when she talked about her God. He had no response. Her gaze nearly haunted him. What did it mean? Was this a message about the invaders, or was she truly this deceived by her religious beliefs?
“Come,” Reed said, gently laying a hand on her shoulder.
Drew didn’t want her to go. He had protected her many times, but something felt reversed. Though he didn’t see it now, the power that emanated from her during the battle with the Dragons was still there…still in her eyes…still in her soul.
Drew watched her walk to the door, and just before she left, she glanced over her shoulder at him. He locked that beautiful forlorn face in his memory. It might be the last time he ever saw her.
4
DARK SECRETS
On their journey back from Brazil, Persimus listened as Validus filled Tren in on what had happened, explaining how they had learned from Tinsalik Barob, a Fallen who had lost favor with Apollyon, that Drew Carter was foreseen to be the last salvation initiating the End of Days. It brought clarity to their mission and understanding as to why the Fallen were so intent on killing both Drew Carter and Sydney Carlyle. Sydney had the most influence on Carter, and her faith was their hope in bringing him to Christ. Until then, Validus and his team of guardian and warriors were tasked with keeping both of them alive and trying to keep them together.
Validus, Tren, and Persimus set down outside of Chicago and demorphed their wings. Minutes later they were entering the Chicago office of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.
Tren briefed Validus and Persimus as they made their way to Drew’s interrogation room. “The observer who’s been following Carter for months is a man named Ross. He’s the director of the National Clandestine Service for the US government.”
“The NCS director?” Validus asked.
Tren nodded.
“This can’t be good. What happened?”
“Ross offered Carter the option of prison or to serve as an agent.”
Validus huffed. He didn’t even have to ask Tren what Carter chose. “And we thought protecting him was tough the last few months. With Carter’s skills, Ross is going to put him right into the Special Operations Group when they’re done training him. It doesn’t get any more life-threatening than that. We’re going to need help.”
They entered the white interrogation room to see Carter at the table, resting his head on his arms. Validus couldn’t help the twinge of sympathy he felt for Carter. There were so many things he wanted to fix in the man’s life…a man whose heart was good. And yet without the Lord in his life, his options were extremely limited.
Tren motioned toward the one-way mirror, which did nothing to hinder their view through to the other side. One man was staring at Carter. His arms were crossed as he scrutinized his prisoner.
“That’s Ross.”
Validus looked at the man, then back at Tren. “What’s the status of Carlyle? What is the FBI planning on doing with her?”
Tren shrugged. “Not sure. I’ll find out.” The guardian disappeared through the wall.
Validus looked back at Ross. He stepped through the wall into the observation room and circled Ross.
“What are you plotting, Mr. Ross?” Validus said. He looked back into the room at Carter and saw Persimus studying the man. Tren returned to the interrogation room a few minutes later, and Validus joined him and Persimus.
“Looks like Carter bargained for Carlyle’s and Blanchard’s freedom in exchange for a confession. She’s being released. She looks pretty broken, though. I’m guessing he told her to move on.”
Validus looked at Carter. “So he still doesn’t know who we are.”
“Probably not,” Tren replied. “I’m sure neither one wanted to let the FBI know that Carter could see us.”
Persimus finally broke his silence. “When am I going to get a clue as to what’s going on?”
Validus looked at his friend of old. “I’m sorry, Persimus. I’ll bring you up to speed. Tren, any idea when they’re going to move Carter?”
“Not for a few days.”
“Good, keep an eye on him. I’m going to take Persimus to Rivercrest and fill him in on what’s happened.”
Validus briefed Persimus as they traveled to Kansas, answering as many questions as he could before arriving at Carter’s home.
“Carter’s mother is Kathryn, and his mentor, now stepfather, is Jake Blanchard. I want you to know who they are because, in spite of Mr. Ross’s intentions, I think their influence and involvement in Carter’s life isn’t over.”
They entered the home to find Kathryn in her bedroom. Validus and Persimus watched as she slid a wooden box from the top shelf of the closet.
Validus looked at her, drawn to her much as he had been to a young girl of ancient Babylonian days. “She’s not saved but has a good heart, just like her son.”
“I can see that.” Persimus looked at Validus. “There’s something more here.”
Validus was taken aback. Persimus sensed it too.
Kathryn opened the small cedar box and closed her eyes as the sweet fragrance of the aromatic wood sifted into her nostrils. Validus was soothed by the fragrance as well. When Kathryn opened her eyes, she put her hand to her mouth.
“Oh…oh my.”
She lifted a sealed letter addressed to her. She held it to her heart.
“Jake,” she called out.
Jake came quickly, seeming to sense the pain in her voice. “What is it, Kathryn?”
She looked up at him, tears brimming her eyes. She held the letter out for him to see. “I’m such a horrible daughter. This is a letter from my mother. She wrote it just before she died and made me promise not to read it until a year had passed. Then I lost my job, we moved to Kansas, and life became chaotic.”
Kathryn stared at the letter as if she dared not open it. Jake sat on the couch be
side her, and she handed him the letter. “Read it to me, please.”
He took the letter. “Are you sure?”
She nodded.
Jake slipped a pocketknife under the upper fold of the envelope and slid the perfectly sharpened blade across the length of it. He pulled out the letter and opened it to reveal a page of exquisitely crafted cursive words. Validus and Persimus listened along with Kathryn.
My dearest sweet Kathryn,
I am so sorry that I must leave you at a time when you need me most. This world can be so harsh, and yet I will choose to bask in the joy I feel when I see the love you have for Drew.
It seems our family has endured more than our share of tragedy. I’ve asked you not to open this letter until one year after my passing so that the sadness in your heart may have ebbed before I share with you what has burdened our family for three generations. I apologize in advance, but I feel compelled to share it with you, lest by some other means you discover it for yourself and begrudge me for not being honest with you. I’ve never told you, and I never told your father because I did not want the dark of our past to obscure the brightness of our future.
My father and mother were indeed refugees who fled from Germany to Sweden in 1943 as you have been told, but there is more to the story. They fled to Sweden because my father was an SS German soldier trying to escape the atrocities that he was forced to be a part of during the war. Upon arriving in Sweden, he changed his name to Frederick Arnson. Three years later when he, my mother, and I made it to the US, he began working as a factory worker. Although his death when I was nine was considered a factory accident, my mother later told me that he took his own life, unable to bear the sorrow of such a horrid past. I can only imagine the torment he must have faced every day for the things that he saw and was a part of. I believe he was the victim of an evil regime, caught in the trap of fear, death, and conscience. I know you too felt the continual sorrow of Grandma Klara, especially when she spoke of Grandpa Frederick, but in spite of what he was forced to do, she loved him very much. Even now as an old woman, my eyes swell with tears as I remember his gentle hugs. He always called me his “sweet redemption.” I believe that in the end, he was a brave man.
So now you know. My name was Liesl Kraus. I didn’t want you to live in the shadow of our family history until I could share with you that you are free from it, as I have learned to be. I watched you and Ryan instill in Drew a love for people and the courage to stand up for the innocent. I am so proud of you. What a wonderful mother you are, and what a great young man he is becoming! You are my precious and sweet redemption.
With deepest love,
Mother
Jake wrapped his arms around Kathryn as she cried. “Oh, Jake, she would be so disappointed.”
“No, Kathryn. You and I both know who Drew really is. Time will prove it out, I promise.”
Validus hurt for Kathryn because she didn’t know the truth. Drew was everything his grandmother had hoped he would be and so much more.
He knelt with wings spread and peered across the tear-soaked cheeks of Kathryn’s sorrow. In spite of her great sadness, something deep stirred inside of him…something profound. Could it possibly be? The hair on the back of his neck stood straight. He looked up at Persimus and could tell that he felt it too.
Validus translated the letter from Kathryn’s hands and stuffed it into his breast pocket just as her cell phone rang. She reached for the phone and handed it to Jake. The number was unlisted.
“Hello? This is Kathryn’s husband, Jake Blanchard…I’ll take the message…When and where? Is he…I want some authentication…We’ll be there.”
Jake terminated the phone call, and by now Kathryn was silent, searching Jake’s eyes for some hint regarding the strange message. He didn’t make her wait.
“It was the FBI. They have Drew and want us to come to Chicago.”
“Come,” Validus said to Persimus as he launched himself up through the roof of the house at breakneck speed.
He dared not fully consider it yet, but if what he suspected were true, then the Fallen’s suspicions of Drew Carter fell far short of the truth. And if they knew, Apollyon would unleash the gates of hell on him. With each beat of his wings, his pulse quickened and the urgency of his mission amplified. Tren would have to protect Carter for a few days. Persimus and he had much to do in Europe.
—
Before long, Validus and Persimus set down on the western coast of the UK. Validus demorphed.
“Keep your wings.” He handed Persimus the letter he had translated from Kathryn. “I want you to trace their family line back as far as you can go. Meanwhile I have an appointment with General Brandt. Let’s hope he is willing to hear me out.”
“Very well. Where do we rejoin?”
“At the church in Hamburg in two days.”
Persimus saluted and took flight. Validus kept to the ground and sprinted through the rural regions of the United Kingdom north toward Scotland, where Brandt’s world headquarters was stationed. After a brief delay by the warriors on guard, Validus was able to gain an audience with General Brandt and petition his cause.
“General Brandt, warriors dissolved helping me get this information. Drew Carter is the last salvation, and I must keep him alive until he accepts Messiah. The Fallen will stop at nothing to kill him and stop the time line. I need at least five more warriors dedicated to Carter’s protection.”
Brandt squinted at Validus. “I know what my directives are, and I don’t have enough warriors to accomplish them. I can’t stop protecting the churches and their missions for one man, not to mention trying to keep Israel intact. Things are heating up there daily.” Brandt shook his head. “You’ll have to work with Malak to get your support.”
“That’s the problem, sir. Malak refuses to give me what I need. Every commander is tasked to the extreme and can’t commit any of their warriors. I need a directive from you.”
Validus hesitated to tell Brandt his suspicions, but evidently he was going to be denied his request anyway. Israel might be the key to making his point.
“There’s more, General. I believe Carter is the one General Danick was looking for.”
“What are you talking about?” Brandt seemed annoyed. He didn’t like second petitions.
“When General Danick died, he told me to find the one we missed. I believe Carter’s the one. Elohim hid him from the Fallen and now he’s here.”
Brandt eyed Validus suspiciously. Validus had helped General Danick trace the Messianic lineage for thousands of years. Then, when Jesus was born to complete the lineage, Danick had insisted that his tracing of Jewish lineages was still crucial to the fulfilling of End Times prophecy. He had chosen the lineage of the prophet Simeon because of the outpouring of the Holy Spirit on the man when Jesus was presented at the temple.
“Is that what all this is about?” Brandt stood up and walked away, shaking his head. He passed through the door of his office and into the command room.
Validus whisked through the door to stay with him. “But, General—”
Brandt stopped and turned on him. “Validus, Danick’s tactics served us well for thousands of years, but since Messiah, there’s been no point, and we wasted thousands of lives protecting lineages that got us nowhere. I will not, I repeat, will not spend lives and resources on some wild notion you have about Carter being part of some prophetic lineage. Is that clear?”
Two of Brandt’s commanders were walking briskly toward them.
“Now, I have a war going on,” Brandt said. “I don’t have time for this. Dismissed, Commander Validus!”
Validus clenched his jaw and forced a salute, then backed away as Brandt engaged with his commanders. Validus took a few steps toward the door, wondering how he was going to keep Carter alive against impossible odds. Never before had he been so frustrated, so burdened with the responsibility of so great a mission without the authority to accomplish it. Only Persimus and Tren fully understood the significance.
“Messenger approaching, sir,” Brandt’s executive called out.
“It’s about time. Send him directly to me as soon as he sets down.”
“He’s not setting down, sir. Should be here any—”
A brilliant white flash filled the room as the messenger transitioned from silver streak to a dead stop just inches before setting down on the stone floor of the castle. The urgency of his message was apparent by the rush of his arrival. The messenger’s back was to Validus, but everyone in the room knew who it was—Raphael, second only to Gabriel in the Messenger Order. His pearl white wings were broad and strong, and he did not demorph them. His bronze hair and eyes were glowing as if he had just been in the presence of the Holy One.
“Archangel Raphael,” Brandt began. “What news have you from Zion?”
Validus knew he should be on his way back to Carter, but he was compelled to stay just a moment longer and hear the news from heaven.
Raphael turned and looked about the room, his eyes resting momentarily on Validus. His presence made Validus feel small again, as if he were back six thousand years ago as the last and least of the heavenly host. His assignment to earth in the Middle Realm, Elohim’s physical creation, had caused him to dispense with such ancient feelings, but here in the presence of one of the archangels, it was back, fresh and revived.
Raphael leaned close to Brandt and spoke in hushed tones. Validus could see Brandt’s face over Raphael’s winged shoulder. The general’s brows furrowed as the news was whispered in his ear. He shook his head and made some attempt at protest, but Raphael would have none of it. Brandt’s face turned red with anger, but he relented.
Validus decided that now would be a good time to leave. Whatever the news was, Brandt was clearly in no mood to grant anyone requests, especially him. He turned to quietly go but was halted by the deep voice of Raphael.
“Validus.”
Validus froze and turned back to see the archangel walking toward him. “Sir?”