by Chuck Black
Ross looked stunned. “How can you be sure?”
“Because the Mossad successfully tracked three of the terrorists to the US, where they have all been hired as cooks in fast-food restaurants. One in Los Angeles, one in Portland, and one in Memphis. At first I thought that was an odd coincidence, but now it makes perfect sense. It’s in the files,” Drew said, pointing to the USB in Ross’s hand.
“God help us!” Ross said. “Evidently the Mossad trusts you more than they trust the CIA.”
“What do we do, sir?”
Ross seemed lost, and it worried Drew. If there was anyone in all of the US government who could see through to a solution, Ross was the man, but instead he sat in silence. Drew began analyzing, strategizing, calculating. He had never had to take his abilities to such a global scale before. Continually interjected into his thoughts, however, was one irreducible truth: America was on the brink of annihilation.
“We need to know how they plan to infect the terrorists all at the same time. The virus can’t survive without a living host for more than a couple of days,” Ross said.
Drew thought for a moment—it clicked. “There’s only one way they could do it. They would have to use a number of ‘trigger’ host carriers to infect everyone at the same time.” Drew snapped his fingers. “That’s it! September fifth…midnight…detonation day. Three days from now on detonation day, over one hundred IGA suicide bioterrorists will infect themselves with an active Ebola virus from trigger carriers. Six days later on September eleventh, when they are all contagious, they will begin spreading the disease in our largest cities.”
“It makes sense. Does any of your intel specify infection locations?” Ross asked.
“I’m afraid not.”
“Then we’re too late already,” Ross said. “Our only hope is to convince the president that this terrorist threat is real. I’ll arrange an emergency meeting with the cabinet tonight. You’re flying back to DC with me now, Carter.”
Drew’s eyes opened wide. “I don’t think I can—”
“Too bad. You’re coming with me. You know the details, and you’re my last man. We don’t have to convince them that IGA and Jabbar are bad, only that the viral terrorist attack is real and imminent.”
“What about exposing Jabbar and the corruption in our government?” Drew asked.
“First we have to make sure there’s a country left to govern. We’ll launch the witch hunt later…and it will be a witch hunt.”
“It sounds like this time there are actually witches to hunt,” Drew replied.
Validus and Persimus watched Carter and Ross stand up and walk down the sidewalk. The rest of Validus’s team joined them. Each mighty angel stood solemn and silent.
“What does it all mean?” Crenshaw asked. “What have we missed?”
Validus struggled to offer an answer. The Carter mission had exploded to global proportions in just a few days, and Validus felt like he had stumbled into a minefield uninformed and unprepared. Clearly he had misinterpreted the message from Tinsalik Barob about Carter being the last salvation. What could he offer his men now? Did Malak know what was happening, what was in store for America?
“It means Carter is just as important as Michael said he was.”
Validus and his team turned to see General Brandt and an entourage of escorting angels approaching. They all snapped to attention.
“And it now makes perfect sense why you were assigned this mission, Commander Validus,” Brandt continued.
“General Brandt. I wasn’t told you were coming. What are your orders?”
Brandt closed the last few steps and took a moment to evaluate each of Validus’s team. He slowly nodded, then gazed back at Validus. “Your orders are to keep doing what you have been doing—protect Carter. The team you’ve assembled is exactly what is needed. I’m here to brief Malak and get him up to speed on the situation. We knew that Apollyon was close to implementing an initiative that would take out America. Until now, the momentum seemed unstoppable. That is, until Carter.”
The corner of Brandt’s mouth turned up ever so slightly. “Looks like General Danick was right all along. This is all about the survival of Israel, and Carter is the key.” He scanned the circle of valiant angels who had seen more intense action in the last few months than any other angel warrior on the planet. His face hardened. “I don’t need to remind you all of what’s at stake here or what the cost may be. I am initiating over a hundred missions to counter Apollyon’s efforts, but yours will be the most important. Failure is not an option!”
“Yes sir,” Validus snapped.
“Keep Malak up to date on all developments so he can respond quickly with support. And beware—Apollyon is near.”
The words sent chills up and down Validus’s spine. His men glanced his direction. General Brandt nodded; then he and his accompanying angels turned to depart eastward toward Colorado and Malak’s headquarters for North America.
25
AMERICAN ANNIHILATION
The director for National Intelligence, James Ward, drove Ross and Drew in a black SUV north to Catoctin Mountain Park in Frederick County, Maryland. During the ninety-minute drive to Camp David, Ross and Drew pre-briefed Ward on the details of the terrorist threat. Per Ross’s instruction, Drew omitted any references linking the current administration to previous terrorist plots and the IGA.
The director was cold and harsh, but Drew expected as much. His reputation was on the line if Ross and Drew were right. Drew also knew that Ross suspected Ward’s motivation and perhaps even his loyalties, though he didn’t say so outright.
“The timing for this couldn’t be worse,” Ward said as they pulled up to the entrance of the famed presidential retreat. “The president has just finished talks with UN Secretary-General De Luca and IGA Premier Jabbar. Security will be tighter than usual, especially since the change of the guard from the Marines to the UN is tomorrow morning.”
“Doesn’t the timing of this terrorist plot seem a little coincidental to you, Jim?” Ross asked.
Drew knew Ross was probing and observing responses, but Ward remained silent, which in itself could be telling.
Three Marines with a bomb-sniffing dog halted their vehicle. Ward rolled down the window to greet one of the Marine sergeants and present IDs for all three of them. A UN officer appeared behind the Marine, almost as if to supervise his performance.
“We’re expecting you, sir,” the Marine said firmly. He was the epitome of professionalism and military pride. Drew had a flashback to the statues of flesh and blood at his father’s funeral more than a decade ago. A lot had changed since that day.
“The timing of your visit is inconvenient,” the UN officer said in a thick European accent. He stepped up beside the sergeant. “We prefer you delay your appointment until the UN and IGA delegations have left the premises.”
Drew watched as Ward looked from the UN officer to the Marine. There was the slightest look of consternation on the Marine’s face.
“This is the director of National Intelligence, sir,” the Marine said.
The UN officer looked unimpressed. “As I said, we prefer you delay your appointment until the delegations have left the premises.”
Ward looked like he was going to launch himself through the window at the UN officer. “Sergeant, finish your inspection and let us through!” he ordered.
The Marine stepped in front of the UN officer and snapped a salute. “Yes sir. Please open your trunk, sir.”
The Marines cautiously and carefully inspected every inch of the car, using mirrors to look beneath the chassis. Two UN troops followed behind the Marines, double-checking the inspection. After a few minutes of thorough searching, the sergeant appeared at the window again, handing the IDs back.
“I apologize for the extra measures. We are—”
“Carry on, sergeant,” Ward barked.
“Yes sir!” the sergeant said and snapped another salute.
Once on base, Alice inform
ed Drew that all wireless communications were being monitored. Drew tapped on his jacket to confirm silent mode.
There were multiple facilities and two main lodges on the Camp David premises. Ward drove them to Laurel Lodge, where the president would be meeting with De Luca and Jabbar. Aspen Lodge, just a quarter mile away, was the residence of the president and his family while they were at Camp David. According to the news report, the First Lady and their two children would be staying at the lodge for a week’s vacation after the global conference as a symbol of their trust during the changing of the guard from the Marines to the UN forces.
As they approached Laurel Lodge, two Secret Service agents were waiting for them. They were directed to park and remain inside their vehicle until the delegations had left.
“It should only be ten to fifteen minutes, sir,” one of the agents told Ward.
Drew noticed that Validus and his contingent of warriors had surrounded their car with swords drawn and the look of battle on their faces. He had never seen Validus so anxious. Then Drew saw something so glorious and so frightening that shivers skittered up and down his spine. All around him, warriors just like Validus began to appear, and many of them came down through the trees on pearl-white wings. Something warmed inside Drew’s chest, but it was short-lived.
Ward whispered Jabbar’s name, almost as a cuss word.
“There they are, Carter,” Ross said quietly. “Premier Jabbar and Secretary-General De Luca.”
Drew saw them, but he also saw so much more. Shivers flowed again, but this time shivers of great fear, for walking among the men of global power was an army of dark invaders—or demons, or whatever they were. Their swords were drawn too. Was this to be a battlefield of the unseen?
And leading the legions of darkness was one who was as unholy as Drew had ever seen or imagined. Eyes of pure black, stature none other could compare to, and authority like that of a god.
Drew pondered in his heart at what he saw. Was this the cause of Validus’s apprehension, of his entire army’s apprehension? The dark master turned his fierce gaze left, then right, then to Drew and stopped.
Drew felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight. When Validus had told him they were all coming for him, was this being the cause of it all? Drew wanted to hide, to disappear from the gaze of this dark being, but it was not to be. The dark lord lifted his hand and pointed at Drew, and every dark invader eye turned to look at him. Drew feared greatly, and he began to think that there was nothing that could save him from such a powerful vessel of darkness.
And then the whisper came. A whisper from inside, where the true words of God were hidden and no dark invader could steal them away.
“He who is in you is greater than he who is in the world.” It was a whisper that brought peace from one so holy and so powerful that the loathsome gaze of one thousand demons could not shake it. Drew wondered if perhaps this was the great enemy of God the Bible spoke of. He didn’t know for sure who this demon of great power was, but he did know who had saved his soul.
“I trust in you, God,” Drew whispered.
“What’s that?” Ross said.
“Nothing. I was just hoping the president doesn’t delay the briefing too long,” Drew said.
He watched closely as the angels and demons kept their distance from each other. Evidently the battle was not yet to be. When the delegations drove off, the horde of demons went with them…at least most of them.
“Let’s go,” Ward said as one of the Secret Service agents approached. They exited the car.
“I’ll escort you to the president, sir,” the agent said.
Just before entering the lodge, an agent scanned each of them for weapons and bugs. Drew was relieved when his jacket passed without a blip. Ward, Ross, and Drew were then taken to the Laurel Lodge conference room, where the meeting between the three global leaders had just occurred. Drew noticed that Validus and his team were staying close-by. He tapped out a sequence in his pocket.
“Three-sixty recording active,” Alice said coolly. Drew envied her calm detachment.
He scanned. Clear, except for Validus and two of his warriors, who were on the opposite side of the table from him.
Ward sat in one of the chairs next to the head of the table where the president would sit, and Ross sat across from him. Drew sat beside Ross.
As the minutes ticked by, Drew became anxious. Ward paged through the files that Ross had given him. Drew noticed that the director was getting edgy too. At one point he closed the files and looked across the table at Ross.
“You’d better be right about this, Ross. I hope your boy got his facts straight.” He gave Drew a stern look, then glared back at Ross. “If you’re wrong, this isn’t something you’ll recover from.”
“If we’re right, it could mean the end of America,” Ross countered.
Ward’s glare eased. “Convince the president, and things will move fast.” Drew could tell he was feeling the full weight of his responsibility. Under his watch, the nation was on the verge of enduring the worst terrorist attack ever orchestrated on the planet. The potential casualties would make American deaths in World War II look like a drop in the bucket.
Minutes later, the door opened and a sharp-looking man entered. Drew recognized him as Michael Dougherty, the president’s senior advisor.
“The president needed a few minutes to recover from the conference. He will be with you shortly.” Dougherty glanced at Drew. “Is this the agent who will be briefing us on the terrorist threat?”
“Yes,” Ross said. “This is Agent Carter.”
Dougherty stuck out his hand, and Drew grabbed it. “Michael Dougherty. I hope this isn’t as serious as Mr. Ward indicated. The president is ready to call an emergency cabinet meeting depending on your brief. Keep it short and to the point. The full briefing will come later.”
Drew nodded. Dougherty left the room.
Ten minutes later, President Harden entered with Dougherty. Ward, Ross, and Drew stood up.
“Mr. President,” Ward said.
“Jim, Trent,” the President said as he greeted the director and Ross. It was the first time that Drew had ever heard Ross’s first name. Harden reached out his hand to Drew. “I assume you’re Agent Carter.”
“Yes sir,” Drew said, shaking his hand. He had extremely mixed feelings about the encounter. He didn’t like Harden or his liberal policies, but he was honored and nervous to have the ear of the most powerful man in the world. However, now that Drew knew this man was handing their nation’s sovereignty over to the IGA and the UN on a silver platter, his dislike for him was even greater. Drew tried to respect the office and separate the man from it, but being in the same room made that almost impossible.
Just give him the facts, Drew thought. Surely he still wants what’s best for our country.
Dougherty turned and talked to the Secret Service man outside the door. “Make sure we’re not disturbed for any reason.”
The agent nodded and Dougherty shut the door. President Harden sat down at the head of the conference table and leaned back in his chair. Dougherty sat next to Ward. The president looked tired. Drew could only imagine the energy such a conference would take. The last thing he wanted to do now was to get a briefing on terrorism.
Harden rubbed his eyes. “Based on your message, I wanted Michael to hear this too. What’s going on, Jim? What’s so important that couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”
“We have a serious national emergency—a clear and present danger to the security and very survival of the United States.”
President Harden dropped his hands to the arms of the chair. He looked skeptical, but when Ward didn’t retreat from his dramatic words, the president leaned forward. “Come on, Jim—survival?” His face sobered to stone. “You’d better not tell me that those blasted jihadists actually got a nuke onto our soil!”
“No sir,” Ward said. “I’m afraid it’s worse than that. Agent Carter?”
Drew took a br
eath, formulating the right words. “Sir, I’ve been running covert operations in the United States, investigating a plot by Muslim extremists to incapacitate our nation.”
“Which terrorist group are we talking about?” the president asked.
“It’s not a single group, sir. It’s a joint effort,” Drew replied.
“Joint effort?” The president squinted at Drew. “Surely one group is spearheading the attack.”
Drew looked at Ross. Ross nodded.
“Yes sir, our operation has discovered direct ties to the Islamic Global Alliance.”
“Preposterous!” Harden said, anger flushing his face. “I don’t know where you got your information, agent, but there is no way Premier Jabbar is behind any terrorist attack, either here or worldwide.” The president tapped his index finger on the table in front of him. “I just spent the last four hours with him discussing our unified effort to bring about global peace, and specifically peace to the Arab-Israeli conflict.” President Harden glared at Ward. “Who authorized this operation?”
“I initiated the op, sir,” Ross piped in. “Without the director’s approval.”
“What in Jack’s name is going on, Ward?”
Ward leaned forward, about to speak, but Dougherty interjected. “If I may, sir. As outlandish as it may sound, we should hear what the threat is and evaluate the evidence before jumping to any conclusions.”
“He’s right, Mr. President,” Ward added. “This is one scenario we never imagined and aren’t prepared for.”
President Harden glared at Ward, then at Dougherty. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Of course. Proceed, Agent Carter.”
“Over the past six months, various jihadist groups—Hamas, ISIS, Al-Qaeda, the Muslim Brotherhood, Al-Shabaab, and others—have been successfully penetrating our borders and placing suicide terrorists in at least one hundred of our most populated cities. We have evidence that these terrorists have taken up employment at various restaurants, most of them in fast-food chains where thousands of people are served daily.”