CHAPTER 21
John Barnes searched the navigation system, looking for a valley about five kilometers away from the northern ridgeline behind the secret U.S. base. The sun was beginning to set, and they needed to be on the ground before darkness fell so they could maximize the night hours to accomplish this mission. Feeling anger well up in his chest at the thought that they might be lost, he finally saw the destination arrow populate on the GPS screen.
“Put us down there,” he ordered the pilot, who landed in an open space in the forest about half a kilometer away from the destination that Barnes had initially selected. “You will wait here until we return. In fact give me the keys.”
“Really? You’re leaving me without a way to turn on the heat,” the pilot responded incredulously.
Barnes threw the man an extra assault pack. Laughing, he barked, “I suggest you make yourself comfortable in that sleeping bag. It’s rated for survivability down to minus twenty degrees Fahrenheit.” He then turned to his team. “Pack up, boys, and let’s go. We’ve got a little over five clicks to cover before sunup,” he commanded, leading his hired special operatives into the darkness.
* * *
Jimbo returned from a security patrol to find Christopher and Jackson in the operations center, watching a special news report coming from Israel regarding the “terror” attack by the two witnesses and the growing number of Christian rallies being led by Jewish men.
“Everything looks good out there. Due to our limited personnel here now, I had to take down the north ridge passive security system. We don’t have anyone to monitor or respond to that sector. Though it’s a risk, it’s one I’m willing to take since it would take strong mountaineering skills to get to the top of that ridge due to the terrain,” Jimbo explained.
“I am just glad the missile field and that large north granite face are a good half a kilometer away from us. If that face ever falls in an earthquake or something, it’s going to create a monster avalanche. But I guess that was the point of building the base in this location, right?” Jackson remarked.
“You’re right,” Jimbo confirmed. “When we let our nukes go, Mother Nature will take over.”
“Today has been a long day. Our former teammates arrived safely in Anchorage, and the security front looks clear, so it’s lights out for this soldier,” Christopher said.
“I think I’ll turn in, too,” Jackson agreed.
“Well, I am going to check in with Max—to make sure he is good to go for the night. I’ll see you in the morning,” Jimbo told them.
“Good night, don’t let the polar bears bite,” Jackson warned.
Christopher said, “It never stops, does it?”
“Never,” Jackson replied with a laugh.
* * *
The march through the forests had been more challenging than John Barnes had expected, but thankfully he had enough guys with mountaineering experience to make it to the top of the north ridge slightly ahead of schedule, with about forty-five minutes of darkness left. They had just enough time to place the charges along the ridgeline to destroy the sleeping base below.
The lack of response to the team climbing up the ridgeline made him wonder if this was, in fact, the right place. John Barnes shuddered at the thought of reporting to Draven that the American base had been a decoy.
“Okay, guys, let me know when you have all your charges in place. We will move back down the mountain to our last rally point and then set them off. We’ll do a flyover to make sure the job was done—worst case, we land and do some cleanup.” Barnes received nods of acknowledgment from all thirteen of his men and watched as they disappeared along the ridgeline to place the explosives.
About thirty minutes later, the job was done and the U.E. SAG operatives were moving back down the mountain about 800 meters from the ridgeline summit.
John Barnes retrieved the radio-transmitter detonator from his assault pack. “Well, men, nothing to do now but start us a well-paid war,” he commented, pressing the detonator button.
* * *
Christopher had a hard time sleeping. He kept having dreams of being back in the special forces selection course, where falling asleep and being caught could lead to being dismissed from the class. Every time he fell asleep, he would dream he was being told to wake up.
He had donned his heavy winter jacket and snow pants and was preparing to make his way outside when he noticed that Jimbo and Jackson were missing. Christopher figured they were in the operations center, probably drinking coffee. Yet when he left the living quarters, he saw Jimbo and Jackson talking outside.
“What’s going on?” Christopher asked.
“Oh, man, I hope we didn’t wake you. We finished getting dressed out here trying not to. It’s strange. Neither one of us could sleep. I was telling Jimbo it’s like the Holy Spirit kept slapping me in the face. I can understand how them disciples must have felt when Jesus asked them to pray all night because I am so tired right now I could sleep all day,” Jackson said.
“Yeah, I kept dreaming my mom was coming in to wake me up for school. I never did fall sound asleep. Let’s head up to check on Max and then do a quick security sweep. Then maybe we’ll all be able to sleep for a few more hours,” Jimbo suggested.
“I like the way you think,” Christopher agreed, though he didn’t confess to the other two that he’d also been unable to sleep well.
“Amen to the patrol and to going back to bed,” Jackson chimed in.
As the three of them were nearing the operations center, they heard the loud cracking of rock and what sounded like explosions.
Max burst out of the operations center about forty meters in front of them, screaming for them to run, having just activated the missile-launch sequence. In a panic, he was now running for his life down the trail.
“My God, an avalanche!” Jimbo yelled.
As the men made their way toward two snow machines about ten feet away, Christopher stopped and looked on in horror as two ICBM nuclear-armed weapons streaked through the early dawn sky with their fiery tails.
“God help us, we’re at war!” Christopher screamed to Jackson and Jimbo, who were frantically trying to start the snow machines.
“Hop on! Let’s move!” Jimbo ordered.
Jackson had just gotten his snow machine started, picked up Max, and was following close behind Christopher and Jimbo as they raced to the trail that led to the helicopter pad. The machines were, however, no match for the impressive display of power unleashed by the avalanche.
The major felt the coolness of the air being pushed in front of the avalanche and heard the deafening roar of the snow and debris now mere meters away. As the first wave of snow mass tumbled over Jackson and Max, Christopher saw Jackson say something before the sound was cut off abruptly. He felt sudden panic and dread of the fate that was coming down upon them. He tried to remember his mountaineering training, of what to do in an avalanche. He knew he needed to try to “swim” to stay above the surface of the snow, if possible, but as the snow mass engulfed him, he felt like the snow had turned into cement. Sure that this was it for him, Christopher’s only coherent thought was that he had not given his life to Christ.
* * *
U.E. One, carrying Draven Cross and his security staff, was making its way across the Atlantic to Rome and Palazzo Caelum, where the World Religious Leaders Conference had been held. Draven was quite satisfied that the palace would be an ideal location for the new U.E. global headquarters. An aide interrupted his musings to say that John Barnes was on the phone. Once John confirmed that the base had been destroyed, Draven—delighted by the report—immediately ordered military strikes against targets in Uruguay, Nigeria, and the United States.
“I want one-megaton nuclear weapons directed at Aguilar’s home in Uruguay’s capital, the Nigerian leader’s home outside of Lagos, and also New York City, Los Angeles, NORAD, and the White House. The remainder of the nuclear weapons under my control will be held in case our forces encounte
r heavy resistance in the days ahead,” Draven directed.
Without thinking, Gabriella jumped up from her seat and slapped Draven Cross—the most powerful leader in world history, a man who held her life in his hands, and possibly the biblical Antichrist. “How could you? How could you? You have killed millions of innocent people, you monster!” she screamed as Evan and security forces pinned her to the floor.
“Let her go, gentlemen. I would have been concerned if that had not been her response. She just lost her father figure in President Rodgers, her closest friends within Omega Team, and her homeland. Though the vitriol directed at me is misplaced, it is understandable. I am sure that, given time, Gabriella will apologize as she comes to understand why today’s actions were necessary to bring about the peace future generations will now enjoy,” Draven said magnanimously.
“I will never forgive you. You’re pure evil,” Gabriella spat before storming out of the conference room and collapsing into one of the press pool seats.
She wept bitterly for her friends, who were now gone. She cried for a country she loved that would never be the same, and she cried for herself. She knew she was lost now, without much hope, working for an evil dictator who might well be the Antichrist. As she stared out into the dark blue waters of the Atlantic Ocean below her, she prayed. “God, I don’t know if you’re even listening to me, but please help me to find You. I am all alone, but I don’t want to serve that monster. Help me, and please don’t forget me.”
* * *
Christopher was surrounded by darkness, and his breathing was labored. He felt pain all over his body. He enjoyed the silence that invaded his mind and almost laughed at the thought that his impending death was going to be easier than he had envisioned. As the blood from a head wound flowed across his face, he uttered a simple three-word prayer that he hoped he lived to make good on. “I surrender, God.”
Rapture Advent of the Last Days Page 33