by Tom Wheeler
“That was the plan. How can Jerome be in that meeting if Dhilan needs his brain?”
“We won’t do the surgery until after the meeting,” Crane said, pausing. “Consider what I have asked and we’ll continue tomorrow. If you agree, I’ll need to arrange for Jerome to be escorted to the hospital where Dr. Mescher will meet you, then he needs to be returned to NASA. Mescher has also requested assistance during the surgery. I suggested you.”
I looked at him, wide-eyed.
“We’re all sorry about Dhilan,” the general said. “And we’re all doing our best. But you can help save his life.”
“Is making him a cyborg really saving his life?” I asked skeptically.
“Would it be if it were you?” he asked.
“I don’t know, General.”
“Well, the odds of this working are slim. Let’s at least give him the benefit of the doubt.”
81
Breaking and Entering
October 14
Cocoa Beach, Florida
Several hours later, after the sun had set for the day, I headed to Dhilan’s house, eight miles from Cape Canaveral. I parked five houses up, looking for any sign of surveillance from the houses as I walked with my hood covering my head. It wasn’t that I was doing anything wrong—Dhilan had asked me to do this—I just wasn’t going to risk being blindsided for the second time in my life by unwanted cameras. Normally I would have gone to his house during the day, but not anymore. I was headed for the backyard when I noticed the front door was open a crack.
“Crap,” I muttered as my pulse leaped. I don’t have a gun, I thought, disparaging myself for the lack of faith while walking inconspicuously to the backyard as my insides slowly churned. I peeked through the large bay door, noticing light illuminating the books scattered across the floor as if someone had ransacked Dhilan’s house. I wandered around the outside, my anxiety on high alert, peeking into every window without seeing anyone. Finally deeming it safe, I returned to the front and pushed the door open, causing it to squeak. My heart rate doubled. I stepped into the living room, emulating the way cops enter suspects’ houses on television.
“Meow!” screamed a cat, jumping out from behind a curtain and terrifying me into a panic; my heart raced as the blood rushed through my veins like electricity, the hair on the back of my neck erect. “Geez!” I muttered, afraid to take another step forward. I glanced around. The living room had a contemporary look, with high ceilings, hardwood floors, and a white, rocklike table amid a traditional setting of furniture.
My eyes and ears straining, I forced myself into the center of the living room. A floorboard creaked underfoot. I froze. After a moment, I heard the floor squeak again; this time I wasn’t moving. My heart pounded in my chest. I shook my head as if I was trying to get the fear out of my mind before moving to the dining room.
I noticed what appeared to be a dark mist enter the room, the same mist I had seen before in the House Chamber and at the United Nations. For a split second, I thought I saw movement in the kitchen, a shadow of some sort, as well as the sound of breathing. I froze again, my ears picking up every sound. I took a deep breath and dashed to the kitchen sensing the presence of evil—as if the devil himself had just entered the room—but I couldn’t see anything. A looming, cold darkness created goose bumps that now covered my entire body. Suddenly pots rattled and thunder cracked outside from a passing storm. I opened a cabinet as close to the sound as possible. Nothing. My heart stopped—again. The lights flickered as a high-pitched chirp began sounding from what I believed was a smoke detector with a low battery. My eyes jerked right and left. I felt like a character in a horror movie.
I tried to catch a full breath as I proceeded down the hall, managing to look into each of the three bedrooms along the way. All had been ransacked, presumably by someone looking for the same thing I was, although that seemed impossible, since Dhilan had said nobody else knew. More thunder. I kept looking, listening . . . Now the feeling that I was being watched caused me to peek back into each room I moved past as I did a 360, my eyes darting to and fro in search of a camera or whatever was causing me to feel this way. A cacophony of sounds came from the kitchen, sending me cowering to the floor, heart racing. Someone was here.
How did I miss someone in this house? I asked myself, pushed up against the wall as I heard old hinges creaking, metal dragging across the floor, hydraulic pumps rapidly moving, and then the lid of a pot spinning around on the floor as if it had been tossed there.
I held my breath, crawling toward the kitchen. I closed my eyes to calm myself before peeking around the door. I saw what appeared to be a sick cat rummaging through an upper cabinet, causing the commotion. I took a deep breath, moving slowly to my feet. A knife set rested on the laminate countertop. I grabbed the largest one, a butcher knife, not that my intent was to use it. Although the cat was likely the same one that had nearly scared me to death a moment ago, I hadn’t noticed it had mange, since it was hairless; more like a reptile than a house cat. I slowly walked toward the diseased cat, afraid of touching it, since I didn’t need to catch the cat plague.
“Shoo!
“Shoo!” I yelled again while attempting to nudge the cat’s body with my right shoe, since it was not listening to my commands. Before I realized my foot hadn’t connected with the creature, even though my foot was on top of it, it backed up and slowly turned its neck, revealing a face that resembled an evil gremlin or gargoyle with pointed ears, long, sharp teeth, a tail like a whip, talons instead of paws, and wings flapping as it cocked its head and darted through the wall with a shriek. I dropped the knife and dashed through the living room like a bat out of hell. I had seen these creatures before, but not when I was alone.
Get out of here! Don’t touch anything! Breathe! I told myself, stumbling out the front door toward my car, glancing behind me at intervals. I hit a deep puddle of water, soaking my pants as I thought that what I’d just witnessed put every horror movie I had ever watched to shame.
Still terrified and huffing, I turned to see creatures swarming over Dhilan’s house, flying in and out through the walls as if it were a bat cave. My eyes darted into the trees now filled with bright lights—brilliant lights, but lights that didn’t reflect on their surroundings, as if self-contained.
I turned and continued running until I reached my car. I rummaged through my pocket, grabbed my keys, hit the button that unlocked the door, and got inside, with both hands holding me firmly in the seat. I shook my head back and forth, grabbing my head, rubbing my eyes, ensuring I was awake, although this was getting all too familiar.
“Mason,” came a voice, nearly causing my heart to stop as I cowered away from it, attempting to unlock the door to escape what must be a nightmare. My body trembling, I fumbled with the door lock while looking to my right, to see the most brilliant being I had ever seen; the opposite of the creatures flying about Dhilan’s house, although the body of this majestic creature was jet black. Her eyes flashed like lightning and flamed like torches; the energy she exuded was of peace, love, kindness, and calmness. I stopped trying to get out of the car.
“Who are you?” I asked as my heart raced.
“My name is Porsha. I am your guardian angel.”
82
Meeting Porsha
Her figure, eyes, face, all looked like she was female, and obviously a warrior. But not of this world. She was black as the night—all I felt from her was love. I was trembling despite the peace I felt from her presence.
“Do not be afraid, Mason,” she said repeatedly as several other lights appeared in front of my car, their wings spread, surrounding me as if my armor. One in the front raised an aqua-colored sword that emulated a thick lightsaber from Star Wars as something dark and grotesque headed toward the car. The approaching entity turned as if it was afraid to confront the wall of angels. I cowered.
“Those are warrior angels,
” said Porsha.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“I am a messenger. The Almighty One has heard your prayers. I am here to tell you to finish what you started.”
“You want me to go back into Dhilan’s house and retrieve the laptop and EMP? Forget it!” I said as her eyes blazed into mine, melting my soul. Her intensity unmatched, she was the most beautiful thing my eyes had ever seen. “Are those other things demons?” I asked without awaiting an answer—I knew what she meant. “Am I dreaming?”
“No.”
“Why can I see them?”
“You are being granted a vision behind the curtain, Mason. You are highly favored—precious to the Almighty One. You are the last messenger to the United States to warn them to return to the Almighty One or face the consequences of their folly.”
“Before what? The United States was already hit with a nuke.”
“That strike was limited. Many are now seeking the Almighty One. He will not destroy all of America, for He still has a remnant of true servants. The Almighty One will allow whatever circumstances are necessary to bring the others to faith.”
“But I am the worst of sinners,” I said, putting my head down as I remembered my own folly. “There are others far better than I.”
“It is not because of your morality that you are chosen; you have been cleansed by the Lamb. Rather it is because of the Almighty One’s grace and your unwavering faith that you have been chosen,” she said.
“I’ve warned the president. What else can I do? It’s his decision.”
“Continue to believe in the One He has sent, call on His name, and speak truth to those in your life. Remain faithful—do not engage in the sin that once entrapped you—for a great reward awaits you. It will be difficult, and requires absolute trust.”
“Are you quoting the Grand Book?” I asked.
“The Grand Book quotes me,” she said, maintaining her same expression. “Go back, Mason. The Almighty One has given you a spirit of power, love, and a sound mind. Not fear,” she said, disappearing.
“Porsha!” I shouted as the other lights moved back toward the trees around Dhilan’s house. I pulled down the small mirror in my car and looked into it as the light popped on. I could see my face. I slapped myself hard, hoping it would take the place of cold water waking me from the dream.
“Ouch! Crap, idiot!” I said as I took several long breaths.
“Porsha! Please,” I screamed. In an instant she appeared again, this time hovering in front of the windshield as I looked around to see if any person was watching.
“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous,” she said. I could hear her clearly in my mind but not audibly.
“Don’t leave me, Porsha,” I begged.
“I haven’t left you since you were born, Mason. I was with you all the times you lay in your bed crying as a child. I was there when you were bullied at school . . . ,” she said, and I interrupted.
“Hawaii?” I asked. She smiled, and nodded once.
“Even Hawaii.”
Tears formed in my eyes.
“Why didn’t you help me?”
“You didn’t want or ask for help. You will always have a choice . . .”
“But I needed help,” I said.
“When you really need help, you ask for it; then the help is provided. That night . . .”
“I remember. I wanted to do my own thing. I am so sorry.”
“You have been forgiven by God—forgive yourself. Now go in the strength that you have, Mason, knowing I am with you. I am always with you . . . No evil will conquer you; no plague will come near your home. For He will order His angels to protect you wherever you go . . . ,” she said, along with some final words as tears now freely flowed from my eyes, and once again she disappeared. I cried in my car for a few moments before opening the door to head back to Dhilan’s, wide awake.
I whirled my head around, checking the street. Nobody was in sight; not in the physical realm, anyway. A moment later, I reached Dhilan’s yard. I could see small creatures moving in and out, the angels maintaining their positions in the trees. As I slowly reentered the house, I repeated what Porsha had told me: “I am always with you . . . No evil will conquer you; no plague will come near your home. For He will order His angels to protect you wherever you go . . .”
83
Facing Demons
As I reentered the house, I could feel something lurking, the same evil permeating the entire area as I heard what sounded like silverware falling to the floor. Gargoyles now freely roamed the kitchen, hissing as another terrifying monster I recalled from one of my dreams appeared; I dropped to the floor. His body was foul, his arms, chest, and legs massive, his feet like those of a dinosaur. The stench caused my stomach to react—I gagged. I heard another crash from the back of the house. Then I saw a black, amorphous mass heading toward me as if out of a Harry Potter novel, but real, as real as the pounding of my heart. Another disgusting creature that appeared to be a cross between an oversize bat and a bulldog thrust its head through the wall, stepping into the room—it was Saboteur! But this time he was heading right for me.
“SABOTEUR! I rebuke you in the name of Emmanuel!” I bellowed, stopping him from entering me, as his wings flared, revealing a creature larger than anything I had ever set my eyes on before. I noticed angels darting through the walls.
“You escaped me once in your life . . . You won’t escape again . . . ,” rasped the creature, pointing at me with a long, crooked finger. It had a nail on it that looked like a blade. “I will cut you off from everyone . . . ruin you . . . You will be alone . . . You are a loser, faggot . . . Nobody loves you . . .”
“SABOTEUR!” I shouted again. “I command you to be bound, chained, and cast out in the name of EMMANUEL!” An angel two times larger than Porsha instantly appeared, his body as bright as the sun—like the angel I had recently seen in the House Chamber. He was standing in front of me, fearless, with raised sword. His eyes were flaming, his arms, chest, and legs like those of the most massive gladiator I had ever seen; his face both terrifying and appeasing. The giant angel nodded, and the room immediately filled with brightly lit creatures with drawn swords. The gargoyles appeared hysterical as they darted from the room, chased by angels striking at them as the gargoyles’ eyes bulged and shrieks came from their alienlike bodies. The giant angel dashed toward Saboteur with sword raised, slashing at him as Saboteur met the sword with his own. The two swords locked as the supernatural beings’ muscles bulged, holding their position. The mammoth angel then nudged his head upward, and a huge light slammed Saboteur from the back, pushing him toward the angel, who slashed Saboteur across his side. Saboteur shrieked—then disappeared.
Seconds later, everything was gone. The evil feeling left; I shook my head, still wondering if I was a paranoid schizophrenic or if this was really happening. By rebuking the devil, I had cleared the room of him. It was just like the encounter Mac, my then bodyguard, and I had had in Iran, staring at the wrong end of an AK-47. When I had shouted out for Satan to freeze in the name of Emmanuel, the gunmen had done just that, and we’d been saved from imminent death.
I rushed to the den at the rear of the house. I saw a love seat, a small table with a bookshelf next to it, and a television set—giving the appearance not much else was in the room. Then I noticed a small Oriental rug lying in the middle of the room. I hastened to the front room, double-checking that no human being was approaching. I moved the curtains out of the way, glanced out the window as if I knew what I was doing, watched a car drive by before returning to the den.
Not seeing anything obvious, I moved the rug off the hardwood floor. Then I jumped up and down around the small room, something I had seen on an episode of NCIS. The floor appeared in perfect condition, but one area sounded different, similar to the squeak I’d heard in the living room. I knelt down, peering
carefully at each of the boards, my eyes inches from the floor. After several minutes, I saw what appeared to be a small notch. I pounded my fist on the area and felt a soft spot.
I rushed to the kitchen, retrieved another one of the knives from the set, and carefully dug it into the notch, which loosened enough for me to get my fingers on the board’s edge and lift it.
There it was—a secret compartment with a few adult magazines on top. I removed several boards and snatched out the magazines. Nothing else was inside. I put the knife in the only opening I could see in the drawer, which allowed me to pull it completely out, which I did, setting it carefully on the hardwood floor. That’s when I saw it: a small laptop computer.
“Bingo,” I said. “You are quite the spy, Dr. Hannah,” I murmured as I grabbed the computer. I then carefully put the drawer back where I had found it, along with the magazines, and replaced the floorboards, ensuring I didn’t leave any indication the compartment had been opened. I stood up, wiped the knife clean of my fingerprints using my shirt, returned it to the kitchen, stuffed the computer into the front of my pants, and headed back to my car.
As soon as I reached the car and unloaded the computer, I called 911 to report a robbery. The dispatcher said an officer was on the way.
“Crap, the EMP gun!” I said after disconnecting.
I ran back to Dhilan’s house, figuring I had about five minutes. I wandered through the house again, this time looking for something I had never seen. I had no idea what it looked like. Returning to the hole in the floor to see if there had been something under the computer, I knocked on the bottom of the hole where the computer had sat, and the sound indicated something was underneath.
I pulled up the bottom panel to see a black device that looked like something from a sci-fi movie. It had what looked like three prongs, with two ends that resembled the butt end of a rifle, another similar component underneath that you apparently held, and a circle the size of a softball in the middle that sent the EMP signal. I read “electromagnetic pulse cannon” on the side.