Chapter 22
The Countdown
Angelica was sitting with Andre watching the news about the P2 epidemic that had devastated the American alliances. He wondered how something like this could be so isolated, not affecting the rest of the world. He felt lucky but suspicious, especially when he heard that P2 didn't infect any of the believers.
"Can you imagine that? This terrible disease doesn't infect the believers who are marked, only those who are marked on the hand. There is something terribly inconvenient about that, but I don't know what it is."
"Andre, don't worry yourself so much about those countries. After all, Britain, Canada, and Ireland are threatening to pull out of our group. You know they must be influencing America to do the same. They're renegades. We don't need them. They deserve to rot for all I care. Don't you think?" she asked while kissing at his neck and playing tenderly with a slight touch on his face.
"I guess you're right. Tell me, have all the shipments of the chips been made on time from your uncle at Scorpion International?"
"Yes. We made sure that America and her alliances were taken care of early. They were completed within six weeks. The electronic funds are working rather well, aren't they?" she asked while gently blowing on his near ear.
"Yes, splendidly. In fact, we just made a change, lately. We lied to the U.S. and told them that we had transfer problems and picked up an extra day's delay in distributing the funds back to them. They bought in on it. The sweep float has made us millions. In fact, if we ever had too, we could capture their funds and keep them. We'll do that if they try pulling out on us. It would be the most expensive betrayal in history. It would devastate them financially."
"Did you hear about the U.S. revivals? Seems they can't control their believers like we can. I heard that they've sent missionaries to Israel. It's causing quite a stir. Millions of Jews are turning to Jesus," she said disgustedly.
"Another one of those American propaganda schemes. They're just trying to get Israel to stay on their side. Now they are converting them to their own fanatical side. I won't be happy until the U.S. and Israel are completely out of the picture. I'd like to steal their money and dare them to try to get it back."
"You know that our own re-education camps are working rather well. We've not had a problem one from the believers' side. We have them locked down tight. The minute believers show their face for whatever reason; they're reported to authorities and moved to re-education. It was my uncle's idea," she said enthusiastically.
"Have the believers returned to live productive, marked lives after receiving our treatment?" he asked, ignorant of their fate.
Angelica laughed to herself, "My foolish, naive Andre."
"Oh, we've never had a problem from any of them once they go to the camps. Not a one," she answered triumphantly. To herself she added, "Because, they're all dead."
"You know America wouldn't have a problem if they'd take decisive measures like we have. They just tolerate them. Believers have set up communes all over their country. By some counts, the believer population is multimillions and growing daily."
"We didn't have many to begin with, Andre, only about a hundred thousand. How lucky we are," she continued gratefully. "They just don't have the guts to handle their own problems. You're the only one who has done that. You're the only one that deserves to rule. You know that, don't you, Andre?"
"I'm beginning to. I'm beginning to."
Ready, Set, Go
Cassidy looked at the map and the last count of the believers in communes, then angrily slammed down the report. "I can't believe how fast they're growing. It's ridiculous. Did you see that last count? They're more like an epidemic than P2. By the way, have we found out what is causing P2? Have we a cure, yet?"
"Nothing. It's not viral or bacterial. It's something else. It's like we've been poisoned. If it weren’t for the manufacturer of mass quantities of morphine and other painkillers, we wouldn't even have a work force, barely do now. It's slowed down the manufacture of the aircrafts. Our date is still this Sunday when most are at worship. An ironic twist, don't you think? Just think, only three more days," replied Pendwight while feeling the victory of the accomplishment but not feeling the guilt and sickness about it anymore. He felt he was finally getting used to the idea.
"How many aircraft are ready?” asked Cassidy.
Pendwight proudly announced, “A 150 million with the last 50 million by the end of this week, but 150 are already armed and ready to go. With the new believer numbers, it will take us a total of 10 million armed craft to destroy the communes, then the rest will be ready for step two, right, the EU Block, starting with Rome. None of them will ever know what hit them."
Cassidy smiled at Pendwight’s intuitive understanding of her major objective. It seemed he had picked up very well on heard unspoken agenda without being specifically told what she had planned.
"I've had some bad dreams lately, Pendwight. They keep coming back over and over again. Someone is going to try to kill me. I don't think Terrone has the guts to do it, but someone is on their way here right now. I can feel it in my bones. I've been trying to conjure up an image of them using my grandmother's tricks of the trade. I keep seeing a dog, an ugly, smiling dog with a white light around it. I just can't make any sense out of it," she spoke with her voice drifting away while looking out over the river.
"Are you sure you aren't being paranoid?" he asked nervously, then waiting for a rebuke which didn't come.
"Humans get paranoid, angels have clear premonitions and visions. Nephilim's, I guess, are somewhere in between. We need to expect the unexpected. I don't want anyone in these suites unless you approve of them first. You're in charge of this. Don't screw it up!"
"On second thought, until this is all over, close the bridges off coming and going from here. Put extra guards on the interstates coming from the South. I want there to be blockades and checkpoints set up every 50 miles for 150 miles south of the city. They're coming from the south. My voice just said so."
West Virginia Commune
"Chuck, we just got an e-mail from Sewanee. A man named Alex just sent us two kids and a dog. They will be arriving within the next day. One kid is marked on the hand, but we're to help them. Do you think it's for real?"
"Ask him his full name. I heard that the Nashville Christian Alliance just sent some of us to go to Woodbury looking for a guy named Alex. Ask what his full name is," replied a young man in a khaki uniform wearing an Australian military hat and colonel pins.
Five minutes later, the answer came back, "His name is Alex Tabor. Do you know him?" he asked the colonel.
"Alex Tabor? Yes, that's the guy. That's the guy they're looking for. He's the governor of Tennessee. They thought he was dead. Contact him to stand by. Contact the Alliance headquarters and let them know we've found him. Monica should be told about this as soon as possible. I want to send this e-mail. I'll give you credit, corporal. This is important, very, very, important. That man may be our next Vice President!" he shouted and was so excited that he could barely key in the words.
"Corporal, I just asked him where on Sewanee he was, and he wouldn't tell me. I got it. Let's tell him to stay put. Let's tell him that a Christian Alliance helicopter will be arriving bringing Monica Johnson, our presidential hopeful. You send it this time. I've got to catch Monica to let her know about this. Tell him that the copter has a big red fish on the side with a cross through its middle. He can't miss it."
Alex leaned over Abigail's shoulder, excited about the last message. "A Christian Alliance helicopter! That sounds exciting! They have to be the good guys, Gov! They have to be!"
"I believe you're right, but why are they coming here? It's almost like they've been looking for me. Once I told them my full name, I could almost sense the excitement coming from the e-mail."
"But I've never heard of this Alliance before. Is it
because we've been so isolated, Gov?" she asked while she danced in small circles. "Oh, Gov, we've got to clean up this place. We have company coming. Do you think we can leave now? We've sent the kids off and now this. I think we can. Please, let's go with them if they ask," she pleaded.
"Abigail, I'm going to miss having you all to myself. I guess a good thing had to end," he remarked sullenly and walked towards his room.
"Not so fast, you old goat," she yelled while running after him. He turned to her, and she jumped into his arms and planted a big kiss on him. Neither let go just enjoying just holding each other.
"You can't get rid of me that easy," she whispered.
"You mean you want to stay with me? You want to stay with this old, ugly goat? Really, to stay with me? Tell me. Is that what you're saying?" he asked between another passionate kiss.
"That's exactly what I'm saying. I may be a pagan, but I want to be your pagan. I may be a heretic, but I want to be your heretic!" she declared as if she was announcing a grand proclamation.
"The pagan and heretic can change, but being with me is a no brainer. I can't imagine not having you around. You want to make this permanent, real permanent, Abigail?" he asked, then holding her to him again.
"I want more than that. I want to make it permanent right now. I want to seal this the old fashion way. Come on old goat," she said, then pulled him towards her bedroom.
He pulled back and stopped, "I can't do that, Abigail. I've sworn an oath, the one Caleb mentioned in the e-mail. I want to, but I can't. I've never broken a promise in my life, and I'm not going to start now."
Abigail lowered her head with tears in her eyes, then her face lit up. "Hold on a second you super honorable, Mr. Ethical, old goat. I have an idea."
She ran to the computer and replied to the last e-mail. It read, "Send us a preacher, a priest, a ship's captain, a judge. Don't come without one," and she clicked on the send button.
The answer came back, "Sounds like someone's hot to get married, right?"
She answered, "Yes, the governor wants to marry a nun."
The answer came back again. "Oh, boy, wait till the guys hear about this. You got a preacher on the way with Monica Johnson right now, your luck."
"Abigail, this is happening awful fast. I'm sure about how I feel about you, but I'm concerned about you being unsaved. I don't think it's right."
"Don't back out on me now, Gov. I've been praying about this in my pagan way for days. I'm just need some time alone. I believe it's time for me to fix this unsaved problem permanently too," she said as she ran into her room and closed the door.
Alex was still in shock by all this. He had never been irrational in all his live. He had never done an impulsive move, ever. This was way over the edge. He was one of the few that had made a deal with the devil himself to keep Dar-Raven off him. He was way out there this time, but he knew he couldn't let Abigail slip away.
Minutes later Abigail walked calmly out of her room into Alex's where he was packing a few things, mostly his Bible study notes and some extra clothes.
"I did it, Alex. I gave my life to Jesus. Why in the world didn't you push me harder? It's great! I've never felt this way in my life! I'm so ashamed of how I've believed and acted. I'm also so grateful those sins have been forgiven," she came to him and hugged him without the passion this time.
"I suppose you changed your mind now that you're a believer?" He didn't know where that depressing thought came from, but it was out before he could stop it.
"Are you crazy? I love you more than ever. I feel that our hearts will be like bright lights for the glory of God together. I wouldn't think of living the rest of my life without you," she answered, kissed him again, then held him tight.
"How soon before the Alliance copter gets here?" she asked.
"About two hours, I imagine. You have plenty of time to pack. I'm almost done," he answered nervously, not knowing why she asked. He was afraid of another bedroom suggestion, but easily forgot it when reminding himself of her new nature.
"Okay, then. Now you have time to rub my shoulders. I promise not to bite. Come on Mr. Magic Hands help me get rid of this aching neck."
"You're bad, Abigail, just plain bad," he laughed as he squeezed her neck and shoulders as they walked to the kitchen.
"Not bad, righteous, right?" replied Abigail, then affectionately patted his hands on her neck.
Road Blocks
Nikki whined about every hour to be let out, and they'd pull over nervously letting him do his business.
"Well, he might be a Holy Ghost dog, but it sure doesn't help his bathroom problems. Man, he has to go more than you women."
"We've been traveling for seven hours, and you've not heard a peep out of me. If my memory serves me correct, you took a whiz with him twice already."
"Oops, I've been caught. Okay, you win. Look up ahead. Do your see all those bright lights? Some of them look like they're on the bridges. We're only 150 miles form Wheeling, and I have a funny feeling about this. Check the side roads on the map. Do you see any way around them?"
They both stared at the map and back up to the lights ahead. They both shook their heads "no" at the question.
"Let's do something silly, Sal. Climb in the back on the floorboards, and I'll put all this stuff on top of you. It's just clothes. It'll be hot, but you're not marked, and I am. Then, we'll put the hound on top of it." Nikki barked enthusiastically like he understood and jumped in the back continuing to bark. "I think he understands what we say sometimes."
"Me too. Actually, I agree with you." They spent 20 minutes unloading the back seat. Sal settled in with her face pointing under the front seat for air. She was covered so completely that even without Nikki, she doubted she'd ever be found. Nikki jumped up on top of her pile and laid down.
"Nikki, what will you do if someone tries to mess with the back seat?" he asked, not expecting an answer, but got one. Nikki growled and snapped at the air while baring his teeth. It scared Jeff just to look at him.
"Good dog" was the muffled sound from Sal. "Let's get this done with. I'm suffocating down here," then she sneezed several times in a row.
"For goodness sakes, don't do that when we get there," he warned.
"Got it, chief! Let's go!" her muffled voice ordered.
The lights were spotlights like those used for foggy days at airports. The line wasn't that long, being about two in the morning. The National Guard corporal stuck his head in the window and looked around. He had Jeff get out and scanned his hand. He read the information on him and said, "What's a kid who's been in so much trouble doing out wandering around. You're just who we need to join us. You're even wearing fatigues like us."
Jeff lied, "I am. I'm going back to Wheeling for a couple days, then joining myself. Do you like your job? Do you get to shoot guns?"
The young corporal begged him. "Please put me down as the one who referred you. We get extra passes and a 100-dollar credit to our chip account for getting someone to join. Please do it for me, will you?"
"Sure, but I don't have a pencil. Maybe I can remember your name," he answered.
"No need, let's just make a note in your chip information. I'll put my name in beside your comment in the notes section. There, it's done. Thanks a billion, Jeff. There are two more checkpoints 50 miles apart, but the bridges are closed going into Wheeling. You'll have to wait until next Monday morning before they reopen. Good luck and thanks again."
Jeff saluted him, and he saluted back, then counted his good luck and thought where he would spend his money. Five miles later, Sal crawled out.
"Didn't even have to use the dog. Might have to next time. How's it feel to be a human duffel bag?" he asked laughing.
"Stop it. I was scared to death. All I could think about was getting caught and all those babies dying."
"We're not done, yet," he warned.
The next checkpoint was more severe. They saw
the chip notes and frowned. "Wish it had been me who you referred, son. Missed that one, I guess. What do you have in your back seat?"
This corporal shoved his face in the side window, and Nikki went straight for him. The guard fell back in fright. Nikki just missed his face by a quarter inch. The corporal smelled his breath when he did.
"Man, Jeff. You need to keep a chain on that mutt. What have you been feeding him? Liver? He stunk like a garbage pit. Nikki heard the comment and lunged through the window, snarling at him again.
"Get out of here, man, before that dog jumps out. Get out of here!"
Sal got up again and hugged Nikki thankfully and agreed with the guard, "Your breath stinks bad, Nikki. Have you been eating road kill or something?" Nikki growled at her, then licked her face.
"Good dog, Nikki," commented Jeff. "Lick her again. Sal likes it, Nikki." Sal just about threw up from the second series of slobbers.
The third and final checkpoint was even more serious. The marines handled this one. They made Jeff get out, and a Sergeant pulled at Nikki's collar without regard for his snapping and growling, then rolled him out onto the ground. He was a big man with mountainous shoulders standing about 6'5". Nikki kept snapping at his ankles, which didn't faze him.
"Son, I want this car emptied out, everything. If you don't quiet that mutt, I'll shoot him." Nikki heard, whimpered, and went to the other side of the car.
Jeff said to himself, "This is it. The babies are dead."
"Hey, what's this back here?" the guard shouted while prodding at the motorbike. Its red racing stripes shined from under the heavy canvas as he threw it off. "Jeff, isn't that your name? I've always wanted one of these. This is a heavy duty one, isn't it? It's got that extra horsepower on it. It looks brand new. How does it handle?" he asked, then pulled it off the back and put the kickstand down to look at it.
Another marine came up and asked, "What's the problem, Sergeant? Is there a problem?"
"No problem. This guy is clean as a whistle. He just sold me his bike, didn't you, Jeff?" he replied as he winked at him.
Jeff got the message. He needed the break. "Yep, you got a good deal on it too. Hope you enjoy riding it as much as I did."
Jeff jumped into the driver's seat and geared up with Nikki jumping back through the passenger's window. "Get out of here, son," he ordered.
Jeff saw him riding it around the interstate and trying to do a wheelie, but missed. It threw him on his back with the bike landing on top of him. "Serves him right," replied Jeff. "That thief!"
"Saved by greed! That's a fine 'howdy-do,' as you Americans say," Sal replied and crawling out for what she thought was the last time. "That was too close. Way too close."
Not more than ten miles down the road, another roadblock appeared. This time they weren't soldiers. They were civilians in hunter camouflage. Nikki saw them first and barking furiously as Sal dived into the back seat and covered herself with gear.
"Who are they, Jeff?" she asked, petrified.
"I don't know. They're blocking the road with pickup trucks and from the scopes on their rifles; they've got deer rifles. Some have shot guns," he replied as his headlights lit them up for a good look.
He pulled over and ten of them surrounded his Hummer. He got out and stood in front of them while watching their every move. Nikki started the racket, and they brought out several of their own—one was a full-grown German Shepherd and another was a Doberman. They immediately sicked them on the car. The dogs stuck their heads in the back windows snapping and snarling at Nikki.
"What do you guys want? We're tapped out. Those other roadblocks took everything," he replied.
"Who's we? I just see you. You have someone else with you?" one asked, and they took a more defensive posture around the car. They didn't want any surprises.
"Just me and my dog, that's we!" he commented and acting almost submissive.
"You have to have something held back," replied a teenager who was trying to look in the back seat from the front passenger's side.
The teenager exclaimed loudly, "Hey, I think he's got jeans back there!"
"You have some jeans, son?" an older white-haired man asked as he pointed his shotgun at Jeff's face.
"Okay, okay. I got jeans. How many do you want?"
"We'll take them all. How's that for negotiations?" the same man replied, then laughed and pushed Jeff against the car with his double barrel.
"Get that dog calmed down, or we'll shoot him!" another man said as he pulled his Doberman off the driver's side of the Hummer.
"Hey, you look like you've had some action. Look at all the bullet holes. Where did you come from, anyway?"
"Woodbury, why?" asked Jeff nervously as men walked continuously around his car. He kept an eye on them as much as he could.
"Woodbury! I had a cousin get shot down there a month ago. They were doing something with the commune. Someone shot him up real bad. Those believers are getting better armed every day. You're not armed? Are you, son?"
"Yes," he replied and several backed away from him.
"Here, I've been saving this. It's the only weapon I got," he replied as he pulled the hunting knife from his pant leg and handed it to the nearest man by the blade.
"Wow, cool knife! Hey guys, did you see this?
"Alright, boy, you get us the jeans, and we'll take this knife too. Take those gas cans while you're at it, guys. Son, you going to Wheeling?"
"Yeah, can you leave me enough gas to get there? Going to join the militia," he replied pathetically.
"Fill his tank up, guys. Take the rest. Need kids joining the militia with all the believers taking up arms now. We need all the help we can get."
Jeff reached into the backseat pulling out all the packages of jeans and throwing them onto the ground. Sal kept moving slowly into the floorboards, and she carefully pulled a blanket over her. Nikki noticed and decided to stop barking,. then sprawled out over the top of her. She reached a finger through a blanket opening and touched Nikki. She felt the power of his anointing comforting her. The hunters dived on the jeans and divided them up like they were gold.
"Get out of here, son. Hope you don't meet anymore of us. You really are down to the bone, now."
"Yeah, thanks for leaving me enough gas," he replied but wanting to shoot them all rather than sucker up to them but feeling God's presence holding him together.
Miles down the road, he heard Sal crying and spoke gently to her, "It's okay, Sal. It's over. We only have another 20 miles to go. I'm sorry but that scared the pee out of me. Come on out, Sal. It's okay."
"Don't worry about that. I about did the same. I've never been so scared in my life," she commented while climbing back into the front seat.
They continued with their fingers crossed. "Any more checkpoints, we'll be walking. I was praying for you, Sal. I was praying for myself too. I almost broke down in front of all of them," he said while pulling off at an exit just ten miles from the river.
"Well, we don't have anything to give the commune, now. God is in charge, now. His mercy will have to take care of us from here on in," replied Jeff, then saw a questioning look on Sal's face at his God talk, but hopeful for it. Maybe, Jeff was coming around.
"How are we going to get across the river to the capitol?" asked Jeff.
"That's what the boat is for. Must be. There are even some life jackets. Good thing I had them strapped to the undercarriage, or we wouldn't even have those."
Minutes later, they saw the commune at the top of a high hill near the river. They honked outside of its tall walls until guards came up from out of nowhere. The guards stuck rifle barrels in their faces. They looked more like soldiers with dark-black marks on their faces and wore striking, dark-green uniforms with a uniform badge made up of a red fish with a cross through the middle.
"Get out, both of you, with your hands in the air. Don't make a sound. Don't make a move," a tall officer ordered.
"Who are you two? What do yo
u want?"
"To kill the President's wife," said Sal, confidently. "Let us in. You had to be told that we were coming."
"She's right, two kids and a dog. I didn't know about your mission until now. Remind me not to let you join the secret service. You give out information too easily."
"Got your attention, didn't it?" replied Sal. She just knew God would handle this. They hadn't come this far as a joke. This was the end of the trail.
"The boy is marked," announced another.
"Alex Tabor said he would be. So you're Sal and Jeff, and this is Nikki, right?"
"Yes," answered Sal. Jeff relaxed a little.
"This is Saturday morning, isn't it?" asked Jeff.
Sal panicked, "We have to go across tonight. There's no time. It has to be tonight." She had no idea where that came from. It was out and out of her before she knew it.
"What's the hurry," asked another guard.
"Millions of children will die Sunday morning if we don't," Sal heard herself say it again surprised when she said it. How did she know that Sunday morning was the time? She thought it must be God speaking through her and got chill bumps all over her.
"Get these kids in the commune now! Get them in. I want a full briefing in an hour. Tell our men to start gathering up all available manpower. This is the sign we've been waiting for!"
"What about notifying Monica Johnson? Shouldn't we let her know what we're up to?"
"She's already on her way back with Mr. and Mrs. Tabor. They'll be arriving at our Eastside Camp where we have all our TV and audio units set up."
"Mr. and Mrs. Tabor? What are you talking about? Alex isn't married," Sal stated, mystified.
"He is now. He married a nun by the name of Abigail just yesterday evening. Alex is Monica Johnson's new running mate, right guys? He's our new Vice President." They all shouted in agreement and showed victory symbols with their fingers.