Chapter 29
The news was filled with further world events. Stocks were declining. People were committing suicide. All while Israel was negotiating with Archbishop Russo to have Jesus buried in the rock tomb thought to be the original tomb of Christ.
“We are greatly repentant, Archbishop. The original tomb site is being prepared now as we speak. We will do whatever we can in this very heavy moment in world history. It is our desire that the world see us not as the cause of his death but as his greatest grievers. We want the world to think of us as Joseph of Arimathea instead of as Judas Iscariot. Please, accept our gift of the tomb,” the Israeli Prime Minister pleaded.
“I want you to know that Prophet Thompson and I do not hold you responsible for the actions of one madman. Your kindness and generosity are all we can ask. Although, we would like to know when you will be placing the memorial statue inside the original temple walls?” Russo said with a gleam in his eyes.
“We thought that your Easter Sunday holiday would be appropriate,” the Israeli leader reported.
“That is fine,” Russo said as he glanced at Thompson giving him a sly, knowing smile. “I do have one request concerning the statue.”
“Yes, Archbishop, just say it and it will be done,” the Jewish government official said.
“I would like to have the statue brought to the hangar where my Lord Jesus’ airplane is kept. I want to spend some time alone in worship and it is very comforting to me.”
“It is done.”
Once the Israeli delegation left their hotel room Thompson and Russo sat and spoke while Laura took notes of what had to be done.
“Once the statue arrives have them switch it with the animatronic double, Laura,” Thompson grunted.
“I still think we’re taking a great risk in bringing in this many people who can leak the truth behind our upcoming miracle,” the Archbishop cautioned.
“Don’t worry. Didn’t you read in the newspaper about the horrible accident on Easter morning that took the life of several Italian and American pilgrims?” He smiled when he said it. It made Laura sick to think that more people would die. People that she could save if only she had enough courage to tell the world the truth. But she didn’t. The closest she would ever come was giving me all the information she gathered along with what Maria had given her out of the Vatican.
Once the slain body of Jesus was wrapped in burial clothes and wound through the town on a long procession it was laid inside the cutaway rock tomb. Over the opening to the tomb, a large rock was placed. It was one that had been especially carved and cut by a group of Italian stone cutters. It amazed the world that they had worked so fast in producing this beautiful memorial. It was flown in and placed.
Then the vigil began. Thousands and thousands of people took up every inch of space around the tomb. They were waiting for Easter morning. Jesus’ adoring worshipers wanted to be there because they believed, beyond hope, that he would rise once again from the dead.
I sat in my airplane seat, buckled in more by my total engrossment in the two books I had in my lap than the seat belt itself. In Revelation chapter thirteen and verse three it says, “And I saw one of his heads as though it were wounded to death; and his deadly wound was healed, and all the world wondered after the beast.”
What did that mean? Was the antichrist supposed to be killed and then healed of his head wound? Was it just a coincidence that the clone was shot through the head?
A few verses later I read, “…saying to them that they should make an image to the beast…and he hath power to give life unto the image of the beast, both to speak, and to cause that as many as would not worship the image of the beast should be killed.”
There’s that statue. But how in the world would they make it speak? Then it struck me. Thompson was in love with the animatronics at Disney World when we were there. After that he did extensive research into how they were made and was in contact with several of the top engineers around the world. He had another false prophet secret up his sleeve and he was going to pull it out and display his magic for the world. This time it would be with a statue of Jesus.
Why hadn’t I read this before? Why did I keep pushing the one source of truth out of my life? For the first time in years I closed my eyes, bowed my head and began to pray.
“Father in Heaven, I can only express my deep sorrow for being a part of the horrible catastrophe that is coming to this earth. I did it because of pride. I did it for money and because of all that, I deserve your punishment. I deserve to be judged for my crimes against you and all my fellow human beings. I know that I would be condemned before Your eyes for what I’ve done. How can I make things right? How can I gain your forgiveness?”
Tears swelled up in my eyes and I started to sob. If there was a Hell then I knew that God would have a special spot for me there. I couldn’t imagine a much greater sinner than one who played god and created the being that would destroy the world.
After a few minutes, I opened my eyes and reached for a tissue to wipe my eyes. The Bible slipped off my lap and hit the plane’s floor. I reached over and picked it up. It had fallen open to a section. I knew what it was. The section was part of the Gospel of John. It was chapter three. I smiled. I could remember learning a verse when I was a kid. It was John three-something. Unfortunately I couldn’t remember which one but my curiosity made me read to find it. I started to read.
“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through him might be saved. He that believeth on him is not condemned; but he that believeth not is condemned already because he hath not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God.”
Not condemned. Not condemned. Not condemned. That phrase reverberated in my mind. Not condemned. It was not the real Jesus’ goal to condemn me. He came to save me. I didn’t know how he had planned to do it but I knew if I started reading I’d find the answer.
I paged through the Bible and the paperback book trying to find guidance for my next step. No new direction came to me. I had decided to seclude myself in the mountains of California and keep my mouth shut.
After an hour I got up and went to the restroom. Upon returning I nearly walked by my seat because there was a man sitting in it. He was staring down at my Bible in his hands. I leaned over and tapped him on the shoulder. A sharp gasp slipped from my mouth. I couldn’t believe who was sitting in my seat—CIA Director Jack Hesidence.
“Good reading here, Matthew. Did you discover what you were looking for?” he asked with a big smile spreading over his face.
“What are you doing here? How did you find me?”
“Sit down and I’ll tell you all about it.” I took the seat next to my original seat. “I was a little disappointed in you when you eluded my escorts in New York but then I thought about it. Why in the world would you trust me? How do you know that I have your best interests at heart? So, I forgave your little indiscretion but I also knew that I had to find you. I want the information that you’re carrying.”
“You’re right. I don’t trust you and I’m not sure that I trust anyone right now,” I answered staring him right in the eyes.
“I can appreciate that. Now, I bet you’re wondering how good ole Jack found you in Pittsburgh?”
“The thought did cross my mind.”
“It’s simple. We just simply fed your entire dossier, which is very large, into our computers. Then we matched up the news events, the names of the dead that littered the cities you visited and voila out comes a plausible path for our fugitive. Now, the airport was an accident. I simply was flying in to pick up a fresh trail and who did I see buying some books in an airport store?”
“What now?” I asked.
“That’s up to you. I take it that you are meeting someone that I hope can hide you. The only thing I ask is that I know where you are. When you’re ready to talk or I need information then we’ll connect. The rest of the time you can live as peacefully as possible. Maybe that way we can have a few less deaths in the country,” Hesidence said.
“You realize that just about everyone you’ve come in contact with is dead? Professor Grant gave his life to protect you. Your old school friend, Mary Grace, gave hers protecting your family. The priest in New Castle and something tells me that you were involved with a now deceased police detective named, Charlie Elliot.”
“He’s dead, too?” I slumped in my seat. Another person dead and I seemed to be the one person connected to all of them.
“Now, your family is supposedly safe with some members of the dissenting church,” he said.
“Supposedly?” I snapped.
“They’re alive. My sources tell me it’s with some of those church folk. She should be fine since your killers are right now searching all over Western Pennsylvania for you. By the time they would make it back to D.C. and flush out your wife, daughter and grandkids they should be with you.” He stopped and looked down at the Bible then continued, “I’ve been searching this book for some answers as well. Did you discover anything?”
“I’m not sure but there is a reference to the Antichrist being killed by a head wound and then coming back to life,” I said with a strange sense of excitement.
“OK, so the clone is dead. How in the world are they going to bring him back from the dead? I heard there are thousands waiting around the rock tomb. They expect he is going to rise from the dead much like the real and Biblical Christ did. Is there anyway it could happen?” he asked.
“Was he really killed or just made to look dead?” I asked.
“It was one of my men, Joshua Longtree, that caught the assassin. He was on the scene and verified the death. Actually, several doctors examined the corpse. He was dead all right,” Hesidence reported.
“What did you say was the name of the guy who shot the killer?”
“Longtree, Joshua Longtree. Why? Does the name ring a bell?” he asked.
“I just heard Thompson talk about a CIA agent that he had some leverage with. I don’t know more than that but for some reason Longtree’s name sounds familiar,” I told him.
“Longtree had been assigned to watch over Thompson and Russo. I’m inclined to think that Joshua may be the one Thompson has under his thumb. No wonder he could never get me any damaging information on the those two religious wackos.”
“It all fits,” I said.
“Yeah, except for one thing. How in the world are they going to bring him back to life? And if they do then the three will be totally unstoppable,” he said as he closed his eyes. I thought I saw a tear form in the corner of his closed lid but Hesidence quickly turned his head away from me and stared out the window.
“What will happen if Jesus does rise from the dead?” I asked.
“I guess you didn’t read the end of this book,” he held up the Bible. “I’ve always had the bad habit of reading the end of the story before the rest of it. This ending is rather bleak.”
“Armageddon, you mean?”
“That’s only part of it. We will see a world war like never before. There will be plagues and earthquakes everywhere. Hell will have its day,” he said.
“But did you see the real end of the story. Jesus, the real Jesus, comes back and wipes out the evil armies,” I said as I pulled the Bible from his hands and flipped it open in his lap.
“But millions of people die in between. And all because one man…”
“Made a clone, I know,” I said with repentance in my voice.
“No, that’s not it. All because I can’t get the President of the United States to listen to reason and facts. He’s had so many scandals in his administration he needs to look like he’s on the side of goodness and decency. You won’t see him making any moves against the Holy Army that Russo could put together if Jesus rises from the dead.”
We both sat back in our seats and quit talking. When we did it was about families and sports. Neither of us wanted to think any longer about what we were involved in. Once the plane landed in Orange County, California we went our separate ways. Except for a private phone number that he gave me and an untraceable cell so he could get me when he wanted to. I expected to never see him again.
At the airport I was met by Sergeant Major Christopher Niles of the Pacific Protectorate, another underground dissenting group. Niles didn’t ask a lot of questions. He followed orders and took me on a long drive into the mountains. We finally arrived at our destination. It was on the outskirts of a very small town. There were nine houses that sat back on a mountainside cul-de-sac.
Once inside the safe house he brought in my luggage and another bag. He pulled the contents out and proceeded to show me each item.
“The General wants you to: number one, die your hair. This packet will assist you in the project and more can be purchased at the general store in town. He has also given you this laptop computer and small printer. The laptop has a modem set up to link into an absolutely secure system. You will send and receive email from this computer. But do not use your home phone. I suggest driving to a location about thirty miles due north of here and utilizing a pay phone. These clips and this instruction booklet will show you how to do it.
“The gun is a special issue. The bullets will pierce anything. Use it to protect yourself. You are far more valuable than any mistake you might make. In an absolute emergency dial this number. Memorize it and destroy it. If we need to contact you, a neighboring soldier will contact you with this password; 'there’s snow in Arizona.' We’ve also left a vehicle in the garage registered to one David Bunker. That is your new name. You’ll find identification inside this wallet. My instructions are to leave you. May we be victorious,” the Sergeant said as he saluted me, spun on his heels and retreated.
I looked at my watch and changed it over to California time. It was then that it struck me. In Israel the sun was getting ready to come up.