Messages

by John Michael Hileman

  “Frank. You’re comparing thieves and murderers. I’m talking about regular people who try to do what’s right.”

  “That’s right, we try to do what’s right. Most people in the world try to do what’s right, but no one can measure up to the perfect law of God. No one is perfectly good. When we compare ourselves to God, we are nothing more than varying degrees of bad.”

  “Varying degrees of bad––”

  “Right. Because we’re born that way. God gives us free will to choose to obey or disobey him, and from the very first people he created, we’ve all chosen to disobey in one way or another. We’re all sinners.”

  “What about Mother Theresa?”

  “Sinner.”

  “Oh, come on! No one’s good?”

  “Nope. Not one. As soon as the first people sinned in the Garden of Eden, sin entered the world and was passed from generation to generation. But it’s not God’s fault. He created a perfect paradise. But like I said, he gave people free will, and every one of us is messed up.”

  “Why not just make it impossible for us to sin? Then the world would be perfect.”

  Frank paused.

  “Ah! I got ya on that one. You don’t know do you.”

  “No. No. I’m just thinking of the best way to explain it. –You see, David, I believe God created us because he wanted fellowship with us. He loves us and he wants us to love him too. If he didn’t give us the free will to choose to love him or not love him, then it wouldn’t be real love. It would be forced, like a programmed doll that says, ‘I- love- you, Mama.’ It wouldn’t mean anything.”

  David took a moment to digest this new information. “Okay. That makes sense.”

  “So yes, bad things do happen to people in this world, but it’s not God’s fault. Bad things happen because of our own bad choices, or as the result of someone else’s.”

  “So even if I’m doing everything right, or at least trying to, bad things can still happen to me as the result of other people’s bad choices?”

  “Exactly. But also, sometimes God allows bad things to happen to people who are following him because it’s good for us, because we need to be purified.”

  “Huh?”

  “Like smelting gold. The goldsmith brings the heat up, and the impurities rise to the surface. When he skims the junk off the top, he looks into the vat. The clearer he sees his own reflection, the purer the gold. That’s what God does with us. He turns up the heat, allowing us to go through bad things, so we can be purified, so we can grow.”

  An image formed in David’s mind. “–Like the flower in the rain.” His voice trailed off.

  “What?”

  “–Nothing, just something my daughter drew.” He took a deep breath. “I just wish he’d choose someone else to purify. I’m going to be messed up for life when I’m done with this stupid mission!”

  “How? Physically?”

  “No. Trauma!”

  Frank laughed.

  “It’s not funny, Frank!”

  “I’m sorry. I have no idea what you’re facing. All I know is, I’d take mental trauma over losing a limb or something.”

  “I don’t want either!”

  “David. You have no idea how special you are. Out of all the people in the world, God chose you.”

  “Let him choose someone else.”

  “When God is done with you, you’ll be a better man. He won’t leave you with trauma, he’s turning you into something new.”

  “Whatever!” Even as the word left his mouth, something deep inside David was stirred. How had he been so blind? It was the one burning desire of his heart. He had tearfully prayed on bended knee for years, asking for God to make himself real and tangible. David knew his own cynicism would never allow him to believe in God, no matter what the evidence. He needed more in order to believe––and God was giving it to him. God was speaking in a powerful and miraculous way, yet he was still resisting.

  God was giving him more of an opportunity than he deserved, yet he was complaining about it! No matter how many times David had messed up, God hadn’t given up on him. He was boiling out the bad, changing him into something new. Something better. Tears trickled down his cheeks. The weight of the stress, and the revelation of God’s patience with his doubt and rebellion caused something deep inside him to break. The frustration melted away and was replaced with gratefulness and humility. “I’m such a fool.” David’s voice shook. “God’s been changing me––and I’ve been fighting him the whole way!” David smeared the tears on his eyelids. “Thank you, Frank. I needed to hear that.”

  Frank sniffed. “Glad to help.”

  “Are you crying?”

  “Nah. It’s just allergies.”

  “Hey...”

  Frank sniffed again, then chuckled. “Are you going to be okay?”

  David thought a moment. “–Yes. Amazingly enough, I think I got what I was looking for.” He wiped his eyes. “I’m going to finish this thing.”

  “Good. And maybe sometime you can actually tell me what’s been going on.”

  “Yeah. I need to. When all this is over, I promise to tell you everything.”

  “I bet it’ll be one heck of a story.”

  “It already is, Frank. It already is.”

  Chapter 44

  Karen pushed through the crowd, but the top of David’s bouncing head had disappeared. She cursed under her breath and brought the phone back up to her ear. “He took off!”

  “Did he hear you talking about his brother-in-law?”

  “I don’t think so, I was speaking pretty low. He was probably just spooked by the phone call in general. You should have seen him earlier in the news car. He’s a mess. Somehow he’s wound up in this thing, clearly in over his head.”

  “Maybe his brother-in-law had second thoughts and gave him information to stop the bomb.”

  “There’s more to it than that. He saw something that caused him to break down into tears. He said they moved the bomb.”

  “The bomb could be in something large and movable, maybe he was expecting to see it but it wasn’t there.”

  “So the question is, where did they move it to? Somewhere else in Quincy Market, or to one of the alternate sites?”

  “You need to get that box into the station so the Feds can go over it.”

  “Not till I’ve located this bomb.”

  “Karen. Leave that to the authorities.”

  “David doesn’t think the FBI can get close to the bomb without the terrorists setting it off. They need to know exactly where it is so the terrorists don’t have time to react.”

  “So you’re going to hunt the bomb down, and call it in yourself?”

  “That’s the plan at the moment.”

  “Karen, come back to the station. You’re talking crazy.”

  “Sorry, Jim. I have to at least try.”

  “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Jim did not sound happy.

  “Of course not, but that’s never stopped me before.”

  There was a long pause. “Just be careful, Karen.”

  “I will. I’ll call you in a bit.”

  She hung up and gave David’s cellphone a try. It rang five times then dumped her to his voicemail. “David, this is Karen. Your brother-in-law has been linked to the making of the bomb. We need to talk. Call me when you get this.”

  Chapter 45

  Soft light filtered through the arched glass ceiling and reflected in the turquoise water of Alex’s indoor pool. Sharon dipped her feet in the warm water and fixed her gaze on the waves playing around her ankles. Terrorist plots, the safety of her family, her husband, the death of her brother. It all swirled inside her like a tangle of cords. She’d hoped a little seclusion would bring relief from her worries and grief, but the solitude of the pool room was only making things worse. She pulled her feet from the water and stood. I need something to occupy my mind.

  She found her children right where she had left them, in the living room, wat
ching cartoons on the high definition screen. Their somber faces and slouched postures betrayed the fact that they were not finding any enjoyment.

  “Would you like a cup of coffee, Sharon?” Alex stood in the archway to the kitchen.

  She looked at him as through a fog. “That would be nice, thank you.”

  “How are you holding up?”

  “I do better when I don’t think about it.”

  “Gotcha.” He turned. “One coffee coming right up.” He disappeared behind the mahogany shelving that separated the living room from the kitchen.

  Sharon walked over and sat next to her daughter on the couch. The girl’s eyes looked sallow as she sat mindlessly absorbed in the activity of the characters on the screen. Sharon envied her. If only she could so easily block out all the horrible questions and dark feelings waiting just on the edge of her perception. From somewhere a muffled tune began to play. Sharon went to her purse and pulled out her phone. Maybe it was David. “Hello?”

  “Sharon, it’s Jerry. I’m at Claire’s. They told me what happened. Are you guys okay?”

  “Yes. We’re with Alex.”

  “I’m sorry I left, but I was called over to the University...”

  “I know. Claire told me you had some kind of breakthrough.”

  “Yes. But it was more than that. We needed to move the whole project out of Boston, just in case. I came over to pick you and the kids up to bring you with us.”

  “David figured we would be safe with Alex. We’re going to head out of state soon.”

  “Well, I’m heading to a facility about fifty miles outside of Boston. It’s a high security installation, they said I could bring you and the kids. If you come with me, you’ll be safe for sure.”

  “What about Alex?”

  “He could go help David. It wouldn’t hurt to have a little muscle with him.”

  “You’re sure this place will take us in?”

  “They’ve already okayed it.”

  “Alright. I’ll get the kids ready. We’re at Alex’s house.”

  “Tell him I’m on my way. I’ll be there in about thirty minutes.”

  “Who’s that?” Alex stood in the doorway with two cups of coffee.

  “I’ll tell him right now. Thanks, Jerry. See you soon.” She closed the phone.

  Chapter 46

  The sign said, “Right Turn Only.” David’s eyes bounced to the Comfort Inn sign beyond it, and then to a billboard with the words, “They’re here.”

  Turn Inn here.

  It was the parking lot of a strip-mall. David drove through the rows of cars and parked next to a truck with a vanity plate reading VDOGUY. Directly in front of him were the large glass windows of a video store. He heaved a sigh and started staring at the movie posters. He felt like an idiot savant. Well––like an idiot anyway. This was the place. He was sure of it. But there didn’t appear to be any messages outside. I guess I have to go in.

  An electronic ding sounded as he passed through the doors. An attractive young woman behind the counter said, “Welcome to Jack’s Video Barn.”

  David gave her a nod of acknowledgment.

  The store was huge, with rows upon rows of movies. Which row? The choices were endless––and they all looked the same. He stood for a moment, staring at the aisles. Nothing spoke to him. Apparently I have to guess. He picked a row and started walking. His eyes bounced from title to title until he reached the end. Nothing. He moved to the back and worked his way around the outer wall. Title after title crawled by as he scanned one after the next, slowly moving from the top to the bottom of every rack. Not one word spoke to him.

  David gritted his teeth. This is ridiculous! Am I not standing in the EXACT spot I need to be in? Am I not looking in the PRECISE direction I’m supposed to look? I followed the messages. What more do you WANT from me? Is this the right place or not?

  His eyes fell on a movie titled, Trust Me.

  He stared at it. ––I’m trying to trust you, but you lead me on these crazy word hunts and all I can think about is that there’s a BOMB about to explode, and I’m running around a movie store like a moron!

  His eyes grabbed another word from a movie. Patience.

  Okay. Maybe he was trying too hard. But was it his fault? There was a lot at stake. Relax, David. Be patient. The message will come. He looked out across the aisles of the enormous room, and stood still. Watching. The message was here, he just needed to let it come to him. His eyes scanned the posters on the walls above the movie racks, one by one, until two words stood out. Pretty Woman. Finally! But what was that supposed to mean? He looked around. Maybe I’m supposed to talk to the woman at the counter? He went back up front.

  “Hey, there,” he said to the pretty woman.

  Her demeanor was relaxed and friendly. “Hi.”

  He pursed his lips and stood expectantly.

  “Can I help you?”

  What was he supposed to say? All he knew was that he was supposed to talk to her––and he wasn’t even sure about that. “Well... I...”

  “Are you having trouble finding something?”

  “Yes,” he blurted. “I am. Yes. That’s what I’m doing. Having trouble.”

  She smiled at his odd behavior. “What kind of movies do you like?”

  He thought about it. “Um. Action?”

  She came around the counter and started walking down an aisle. “Action’s in the back. Here, I’ll show you.”

  He followed her down to the end, until she stopped and pointed at a little yellow sign that said, “ACTION.”

  He shrugged sheepishly and grinned. “Yup. Says it right there. Ac-tion.” He enunciated the word.

  Her eyebrows rose and she returned his grin. “So––You’re all set?”

  “All set.” He parroted.

  She walked away shaking her head.

  Well, that went well. He tried to shake off how ridiculous he felt and looked down at the rack in front of him. The movies, Remember the Alamo, and North Dallas Forty, sat on the second shelf. Immediately the message jumped out at him.

  Remember North.

  What else? There had to be more. He scanned the rest of the movies on the shelf, and another string of words came together. Follow Security 6622 meters 0 out red yellow blue.

  Another series of instructions? Like the ones he used to get out of the hostage house? He repeated the words several times until he had them memorized. Follow a security guard maybe? Did he have to follow a security guard six hundred and twenty two meters? That was around four miles, maybe more. No, it was probably something else. Perhaps a security vehicle of some kind? Maybe he was going to follow a security guard somewhere on the road? The rest of the message was gibberish. Could mean anything. He scanned the rack behind him and came up empty. That was it. He had his marching orders. Now the hard part; following them.

  He walked to the front of the store. The pretty cashier smiled at him. “Didn’t find anything?”

  “Nope. Nothing.” He smiled. “Guess it’s just not a movie kind of day.” The door dinged as he walked out. Could I possibly look ANY stupider?

  He continued scanning for words as he walked back to his car. Nothing more jumped out at him. Well, he had his two cryptic lines. Apparently that was all he needed. He opened his car door, plopped down in the seat, and leaned his forehead on the steering wheel.

  Why do I continue to doubt? I’ve seen over and over how the messages come when I need them. They knew Karen would see the note and follow up. They knew when the terrorists would be in the kitchen so I could escape. They even knew where the winning lottery ticket was. So why do I continue to doubt? If two cryptic messages were all God felt he needed, then they were all he needed. Plain and simple.

  Bleep.

  David lifted his head. Was that his phone? He reached over and picked it up. There was a new voicemail message. He brought it up.

  “David, this is Karen. Your brother-in-law has been linked to the making of the bomb. We need to talk. Call
me when you get this.” His arm went slack, his hand landed in his lap. Jerry, involved with the bomb? Why... Before the question could fully form, he knew the answer. Jerry hated the government. He hated the war. –But still. A bomb? Was it possible?

  Jerry?

  David thought about everything that had happened. The cat and mouse game with his family, what the young terrorist had revealed at the hostage house––that no one was supposed to get hurt. Was it all a harmless scare tactic? They shot John in cold blood and wounded Karen. Maybe Jerry didn’t realize how dangerous these men were. Maybe he went into it thinking it was only going to be a bomb scare but ended up in the middle of something far worse. Maybe he was purposely kept in the dark, like the young terrorist at the hostage house. Maybe...

  I left my family with him!

  Thank God they were with Alex now. He shuddered. The whole thing made his mind twist.

  He went back over every detail, every event, every message. It all made sense now in light of Jerry’s involvement, everything that is, except for one point. How did the President fit into it? The assassination was only mentioned once. All of the other messages pertained to the terrorist plot. There had to be a connection. But what? The hostage play made sense. It was clearly the leverage the terrorists needed to make the television station air the story that would have caused the city of Boston to evacuate. And with stolen nuclear material, the authorities would have bought into it, if it hadn’t been for the mole. He kept feeding the Feds the leads, and they kept making the busts, and when it came time to have the television station air the message, Homeland Security didn’t comply.

  Were they backed into a corner now? Would they set the bomb off as a last resort? Maybe, but that still wouldn’t bring the President anywhere near this place. When the terrorists attacked the trade center towers in New York, it was with non-nuclear material, and the President didn’t go to that site until many days later. There was no way a dirty bomb threat, real or otherwise, would lure the President here. So how did this have anything to do with him?