The enemy attack had become completely unraveled and the enraged demoniac in the form of Frances O’Donnelly took her place at the rear of the decimated column and commanded them to retreat back to the cemetery across the road, hauling their dead and wounded.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Task Force Saber regrouped at its secondary battle positions on the cliff.
“Alright, warriors, we have accomplished our mission thus far,” said Commander Carlos. “We have sustained many casualties. No deaths, but a number of wounded. All have been med-evaced to our field hospital, and some have been taken to local hospitals. We are using seven different hospitals, so no one emergency room will be suspicious of what’s going on here. We don’t need outside law enforcement involved, as you all know.
“The enemy will be back. Sandy has informed me that their force is under the direct influence of an earl of the underworld named Botis. He reports directly to Satan. So the power that controls them has dramatically changed.
“They will charge without caution. They do not value their lives or the lives of others. Some will keep fighting despite serious wounds. You will wonder why your bullets will not stop them. All these phenomena are the result of the demonic powers that possess these people.
“Do not let the fire over their heads distract you. It will not harm you. It’s more like a projected light designed to terrify you. Same thing with that blaring discordant noise that comes from their mouths. That sound no longer makes them invisible. The angels’ trumpets are playing the C major chord that cancels out their sickening hum.”
“Commander Carlos,” Jacob said, raising his hand.
“Yes, son,”
“Why don’t we just leave now and let them have the property?”
“Good question, Jacob. I should have covered that,” said Carlos. “There are three reasons why we must fight them until ordered to evacuate. One: it is our responsibility to cause as much damage on them as possible; two: the weather is so violent that our flotilla cannot accommodate us all at once. Only our biggest launch is capable of navigating these three-foot waves. The small boats will be swamped. Third, and most important, Sandy is getting our instructions directly from the Angel of the Lord who sits at the right hand of God. We must operate in God’s will, even if it puts us at risk. Make sense?”
“Absolutely, Uncle. Thank you. We will fight and we will win,” said the young warrior.
“Yes, and because God is in charge, the battle belongs to Him and He will be glorified,” said Carlos.
“Now, we have our main body in position at the cliff. Hank will lead his scouts to our front to probe the enemy as they advance and warn us of their movements. Evacuation teams one, two, three, and four will man the four paths down the cliffs and facilitate our withdrawal.
“Before we redeploy, I want to pray a blessing on us.”
Carlos removed his helmet from his thick, matted grey hair. The heavy Kevlar helmet left a dark indentation in his forehead. He bowed his head and the others, bareheaded, followed suit.
“My Lord, our great commander, strengthen our bodies, minds and spirits for this final phase of the battle. Pour your Holy Spirit out on us and fill us with your power. Power to fight, power to run, power to stand fast, power to shoot, power to kill, power to protect one another. And most of all, give us your power to stay bounded together with your divine love. Save us all, my Lord and Savior. Yours is the battle, yours is the glory. We follow your every command. Amen.”
In unison, Task Force Saber shouted, “A sword for the Lord and for Gabriella.”
Sandy watched her sky-screen as Carlos issue the battle order. The battle cry of the army came to her ears and she sighed.
“Oh, Gabriella, with all this power I have to see beyond the horizons and project this miraculous energy to change the course of human events, why can’t I see you? Where are you? Where did you go, my dear Nonina?”
Then she felt it, a whisper of uplifting strength in her gut. Like a faint charge of electricity—familiar somehow. She waited, concentrating on the feeling, deep in her soul—willing it to be louder, clearer, but it remained faint and deep. Her mind groped after it, desperate to be sure.
Aloud she said, “This can only be you, dear Nonina. I can almost taste you. Will I ever see you again?”
“So, what do we have?” said Archangel Michael to Thomas.
“Joe and I had a little tussle with four of them—no big problem. Botis is in charge of the Directorate now. He occupies their leader, Frances O’Donnelly, removed her human body, and he now uses her face to terrorize their forces,” said Thomas.
“How goes the battle?”
“The enemy has attacked twice and Task Force Saber has done a good job chasing them back to the cemetery. The enemy force is down to half their original strength, so that puts them at about fifty personnel fit to fight. Task Force Saber has lost eleven of their original seventy, all wounded and effectively med-evaced to their field hospital, and some to civilian hospitals in the area.”
Michael said, “Well, the fools in Salem have settled down. Most of the humans have retired to their beds. All the chartered busses from out of state have taken off.”
Thomas said, “Who was in charge this year?”
“Morax,” said Michael. “He’s the one who has this power to embolden Satan worshippers. He makes them feel wise and respectable. Under his leadership, the Satanic rituals this year have definitely revived their enthusiasm for their cause. We expect that those who openly worship Satan will double in number this year.”
“America is in for some real bad times,” said Joe. “I mean with today’s mindset where Christians who worship Jehovah and the Trinity are ridiculed, and cult worshippers are looked upon as sophisticated freethinkers, Satan has an open door for his hellish influence.”
“Yes,” said Michael. “That’s why a decisive victory here at Cielavista is extremely important. Our objective is total annihilation of the Directorate.”
Michael drew the Sword of the Lord. He held it out at arm’s length and pointed toward the heavens. All the angels stared as the weapon expanded grew longer and thicker.
“Brothers, I will need your help. This weapon will become so heavy that it will take many of us to hold it steady.” As the hilt lengthened, Javier came alongside Michael and wrapped his hands around it. Fire from the throne room of the Almighty engulfed the blade.
Michael clung to the radiant, expanding steel. “Here’s our plan.”
The mid-autumn afternoon sun glared down from the southwest at a blinding angle, reflecting hard and silver off the raging surf. Mounted on Sadie, Hank directed his scout platoon to the front of Task Force Saber’s defensive battle line near the clifftop. Since the operations staff in the barn had abandoned their headquarters and joined the ranks of the infantry, Peter became Hank’s platoon sergeant.
“You take Lucille and Andy with you,” Hank said to Peter. “The wolfhound is your connection with the angels, and Andy communicates with her.” Hank watched Peter’s expression to see how he’d react to these bizarre instructions. Evidently even skeptical Peter had come to grips with the realities of the spiritual realm.
“Thanks, Hank. Good to know,” said Peter, mounted on Cinnamon. “So, how will you know what the angels are saying?”
“Sadie has the same connection as Lucille. The horse and I have come to an understanding. As long as she gets a couple apples every day, she will keep me posted on all the messages from the angels.” Hank gave his horse an affectionate pat on the neck. Sadie snorted her approval.
“This pine grove will be our rally point,” said Hank to the twelve-foot soldiers in his scout platoon. “Here we have good cover and concealment from the enemy.
“Our job is to find the attacking enemy and notify Commander Carlos. Do not engage the enemy. Once you get a visual on him, keep your distance and quickly withdraw.
Hank said to Andy and five other infantrymen. “You six go with Peter. Lucille and the b
ulldog are attached to your squad. The property is divided into two sectors. Sector Green is everything north of the main road into the estate. Sector Red is to the south. I’ll take Green. Peter, you take Red.
“Do not use the radio for internal commo. Only come up on the net to inform Carlos of enemy positions or to call me in extreme emergencies. When you see the enemy attack our perimeter, send up a red flare. That’s the warning for our forces on the cliff. Everyone got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right, warriors,” said Hank. “Remember, do not engage. Restrain your instincts. Find him, withdraw, and call Carlos. Peter, you wanna pray for this courageous gang?”
“Dear Father, you have trained our hands for war, our fingers for battle. Thank you for the angelic protection. Yours is the victory, we glorify your name. Amen.”
“Good. Let’s roll,” said Hank, and he nudged Sadie onto the path through the briars. His foot soldiers followed. Mark, the Irish Wolfhound, and John, the Shepherd, sniffed and darted in the brush to their flanks.
“Take the helm for a while, would you, Beto?” Henry wouldn’t admit how much pain he was enduring in his back and legs from holding the boat steady through the rolling swells. He took a seat in the mate’s chair and watched the instruments and the ocean to their front.
“Look at that big orange ball on the western horizon,” said Beto.
“I’ve never seen a sunset like that before, have you?” said Henry.
“That’s not the sun. It looks like some kind of weird band of fire in the sky over the coast. What is that?”
“Ask your buddy up there—what’s his name? Tobias?”
“Hey, Tobias, you still there?” said Beto.
“Yeah. You need to hear all this and tell Henry the skeptic everything. This is going to be quite a night for you two,” said Tobias.
Romano Goldstein was convinced that Frances could not effectively lead the Directorate’s forces in her demonic state. It was clear that she had totally succumbed to the evil influence of Botis, one of Satan’s most high-ranking captains. Romano was quite familiar with this evil spirit from his experiences dealing with war veterans. His patients with such severe mental disorientation lacked the ability to relate to other people and the ability to feel any true emotions. They easily fell prey to the wiles of unclean spirits. When he first observed the manifestation of Botis in Frances, he reckoned that it might embolden her and make her a more dangerous leader. But now Romano realized that Frances was totally irrational and ineffective.
As the Directorate’s lead elements chased after FITO’s counterattack force into the valley, Romano quickly caught on to their tactic. He had read General Joshua’s book. He knew it would be useless to try to change Frances-Botis’ mind, so he decided to gather a separate force with two objectives: survival and victory over FITO.
Hidden in the thicket where Romano found refuge with his remnant of twenty fighters, he listened to the clamor of the battle in the kill zone of FITO’s ambush. The indirect fire from his carefully designed artillery proved utterly inaccurate because of the high, swirling winds. As many arrows fell on his own giants as fell on the enemy. The screaming wails of his huge brutish soldiers was disgusting. The war cry of the FITO fighters was terrifying—“A sword for the Lord and for Gabriella”—reverberated through the hills and treetops. Romano read the horror on the faces of his band of fighters.
“Randal, my fellow executive; Carlene, my valiant leader; Firdos, my brave seer and saboteur; and my tenacious foot soldiers: you are the last hope for victory in this desperate struggle. Do you hear me?” Romano said.
Romano relied on his well-practiced powers of hypnosis and brainwashing. He looked each person in their eyes. The notes of his dissonant chord vibrated in his teeth. Their eyes glazed over. He was reaching their subconsciousnesses.
“Randal, you will command half of this mighty platoon and lead them in a historic battle. Carlene, you will command the other half. Firdos, you will support Carlene and be faithful to her every order.”
Romano assigned eight fighters to Carlene and eight to Randal.
“My mighty men of valor,” Romano said, ignoring their gender, “you are my children. I love you dearly. When this fantastic fight is over, we will all celebrate for years how we overcame this terrible fly in the ointment. We will tell our children of our heroism and for many generations they will sing our praises.”
He watched the panic in their eyes fade, and their obeisance rise.
“The attack force under the command of Frances will push FITO back and force them off this high cliff. Many of our men will die in the effort. Our mission is to wait until the battle is nearly over and only a scant fragment of the enemy’s force remains. That’s when we will strike. We will kill every FITO soldier and every Directorate soldier. Both sides of this battle will be exhausted, wounded, and decimated. They will have lost their will to fight and we will be rested and strong.
“We will attack from our hiding places in the woods. Randal from the north, Carlene from the south. We will pin them against the cliff and wipe them out. Let me hear you say, ‘Victory is ours.’”
Randal’s nine and Carlene’s ten all peered back at Romano with blank, senseless smiles. “Victory is ours?” they mumbled.
“That’s the stuff,” Romano said. “Victory is ours.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Ignoring her exhaustion after thirty-six hours of nonstop enemy surveillance, Sandy stayed focused on her sky-screen. She couldn’t shake the pain in her gut as she watched Romano Goldstein. How could Gabriella have allowed her to place Hank in the care of this monster? As the question formed itself in her mind, the answer whispered into her inner self. All part of the plan.
How many times had Gabriella said, “I only know what I know and I can only do what I can do.”
Sandy now realized that a prophet only sees scattered fragments of God’s plans. The Lord only lets the knowers know what is essential for them to know. Faith fills in the blanks.
“Sam, you’re up,” Sandy said loud enough to be heard inside the little tent where her runners were resting.
Sam wrote what Sandy dictated. “Romano Goldstein has formed a detachment separate from the enemy’s main body. They will be hanging back until the main battle is over, and they plan to wipe out our force and what remains of the enemy. They will be attacking from the south in two squads of ten fighters each. Distribute to all subordinate commanders.”
Sam read the message back to Sandy. “Right,” she said. “Up you go, young warrior.”
Sandy watched the young athlete leap, run, step and climb up the uneven rocks. At some high ledges Sam jumped up, pulled himself up, and swung his legs over the next level. All smooth, coordinated moves, making the difficult climb look effortless. She had taken that route hundreds of times, but never as quickly and gracefully as her young athletic messengers.
Sandy looked back up into the sky. I wonder what Michael is going to do with that magnificent flaming sword.
“Robby,” called Hank, “here they come. Pop the red flare.”
To the front of Hank’s sector, a column of enemy infantry was advancing across the road. Over their heads was a cloud of flame. Hank saw red flares in the sky over Peter’s sector, indicating a coordinated enemy advance across their entire front.
Hank deployed his last three Claymores and pulled his recon squad back. He called Carlos on the radio and informed him of the enemy’s strength and avenues of approach. He was surprised to find a breathless Althea running up to him with a message from his mother.
Hank, Romano’s detachment is just to the rear of your present location. Do not engage. Circle around that thicket to your right front at azimuth 180 degrees. Circle to the north and continue your retrograde. Repeat, do not engage that enemy detachment.
“Jump up on Sadie, Althea,” said Hank. “I’ll give you a ride to the edge.”
The young girl swung up behind Hank and hung on to his waist.<
br />
“Hey, Sadie,” said Althea. “Good to see ya. Thanks for the lift.”
“She says con mucho gusto,” said Hank. “I guess she’s showing off her Spanish.”
“I know,” said Althea, “I can hear her, too.”
Hank gave the hand-and-arm signal to his squad to follow him.
Through the trees to the north of him, Hank heard the enemy crash through the underbrush. The dismal, now-familiar hum snaked through the woods. A wildly flashing ball of flame swooped back and forth over the onrushing horde.
Night fell quick and cold. Sadie picked her way through the dark woods, leading Hank’s men behind her. They halted in the tree line near the cliff. Hank could hear the violent surf pounding the ledge where Sandy stood. The night wind roared through the trees and feathered Althea’s air across Hank’s neck. Any minute now the enemy army would close in on Task Force Saber for the kill.
The column of giants halted in the tree line to Hank’s left. He could smell the barbarians’ breath wafting through the trees in foul streams of vapor. The voice of the demon master growled out over the restless mob. When he spoke, drops of fire fell from his lips.
“You are a killing machine. Your enemy is a weak coward. You will trample him and throw him over the cliff into the sea,” Botis said through the face of Frances O’Donnelly.
Hank grinned and turned to look over at his scouts. He shook his head. “It’s all a big show,” he said. “These clumsy brutes will be defeated this night.”
Althea gave him a hug from behind and slipped down from Sadie’s back. “Any message for your mom?” she said.
To Sadie Hank said, “What’d ya see, lady?” Hank leaned over Sadie’s warm brown neck and listened.
“Botis will depart the battle.” Hank repeated what the horse transmitted to him. “From there on, it will be hand-to-hand combat. Begin to evacuate all our family members who are not essential to the battle.”
“Okay, Hank. Take care of yourself,” Althea said. “You’re the best. God be with you.”
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