Fuller let out a sigh as he shook his head in wonder. Fronk’s fingers had danced across the keyboard and uncovered more detail about what was happening in the world since after the vanishings. Wars were going on. There had been scattered fighting with heavy artillery almost every where on the face of the planet. The hottest fighting were in Syria, Iraq, Iran, on the Israeli border, in England, France, Germany, Russia and right outside of the United States of America‘s borders. There had been fighting from within and without.
Ships had been crossing the ocean, heading for the American shores but England was helping to keep America safe from the sea as well as any American navy vessel, which had not been affected by the EM pulse. Yet all of that had changed with the peace treaty signing in Israel. Tristian Salvadori had seemingly come from nowhere and was making wonders happen by his eloquent speech and charismatic manner. The only two he could not sway were the men who called themselves Moshe and Eli.
Then, there was more news.
The Pope was missing. He had been reported as being inside the Vatican in Rome, but suddenly, without a trace, he turned up missing. His robe and clothing were later discovered in a garden outside the palace and he was numbered as being among the vanished.
Yet another man had stepped in to take his place. A man who called himself The New Pope for the New Era of Unilateral Peace under the direct leadership of the Man of Peace himself, Tristian Salvadori. The New Pope swore his allegiance to Salvadori and hailed him as a saint of the Almighty. He began to encourage the world to look to this man to lead them all into a new world.
Shiva had the Bible out and he decided to just begin to read out loud. “‘And when he had opened the second seal, I heard the second beast say, Come and see. And there went out another horse that was red: and power was given to him that sat thereon to take peace from the earth, and that they should kill one another: and there was given unto him a great sword. 1’"
In spite of the peace treaty, there was talk of all types of food shortages. Many places would be without and thousands were calculated to die due to famine.
The Spirit of God prompted Shiva to continue reading. "‘And when he had opened the third seal, I heard the third beast say, Come and see. And I beheld, and lo a black horse; and he that sat on him had a pair of balances in his hand. And I heard a voice in the midst of the four beasts say, A measure of wheat for a penny, and three measures of barley for a penny; and see thou hurt not the oil and the wine.’ 2”
Finding more evidence as to what the Bible had predicted would happen, the smooth talking Man of Peace claimed that no famine would last. If they could all agree to move forward and strive as one, all of the world’s woes would pass.
“‘And when he had opened the fourth seal, I heard the voice of the fourth beast say, Come and see. And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him. And power was given unto them over the fourth part of the earth, to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death and with the beasts of the earth.’ 3"
Silence filled the room.
Finally, Fronk said, “It’s only going to get worse, isn’t it, Skipper?”
Fuller nodded slowly. This time, he didn’t even mind being called Skipper. “I’m afraid so.”
“Okay…so long as you’re not so afraid, then, I’m good.”
Shiva paused. “Hey, guys…?”
“What is it, Marc?” Fuller inquired.
“About this New Pope…Could he be the False Prophet?”
“There’s a new pope?” came a voice from the door.
The three men turned around and to their astonishment, they discovered David King standing in the doorway of Fronk’s office. Fuller went toward him and pulled him inside, closing the door. “David…” he began hesitantly, “what are you doing here?”
“Two men broke into the apartment, so I left.” King looked over toward the computer and moved behind where Fronk sat for a better look. “What is this about a new pope?”
Fuller exchanged glances with the others. “David, I’d love to answer your question, but can you tell me what happened? How did you get in here?”
King shrugged. “Nobody stopped me. I simply walked in.”
“What do you mean you just walked in? We have every entrance guarded. Your face has been remembered by every agency within this building! You simply cannot just walk into a place where you can get yourself captured just like that.” He snapped his fingers.
“God has blinded them to who I am. Please, Darren…I left the apartment because men came there seeking to kill me.” He tapped his finger on the computer screen. “Now…what is this about a new pope?”
Fronk cleared his throat. “The old one is missing. This other one took his place and is calling Tristian Salvadori a saint.”
“Now that is interesting!” He looked at Fuller. “Did you know there is not only a Trinity of God, the Father, God, the Son and God, the Holy Spirit, but there is also another one?”
Shiva looked startled. “Another trinity? Surely there isn’t!”
King quoted, “‘And I saw three unclean spirits like frogs come out of the mouth of the dragon, and out of the mouth of the beast, and out of the mouth of the false prophet.’ 4” He held up three fingers. “The Devil himself is often referred to as a dragon. The beast is, of course, the Antichrist. And that leaves the False Prophet. This is not to say that this trinity is like the God-Trinity, but as you all should know, Satan is not only a deceiver, but he also takes what God has made and tries to pervert it. So the trinity that makes up the Devil, the Antichrist and the False Prophet is purely evil. And I would have to say alive and well on planet Earth.”
Fuller let out a sigh. “David…look, I’m glad you’re here but you can’t stay. We’ve got to get you out of here. We have to hide you.” He turned to Fronk. “Continue with your task, William. Marc, David, let’s go to my office. As soon as the others get back, we’ll have to find you a place to hide.”
King nodded. He turned to Fronk. “Greetings, William, my brother. I apologize for not introducing myself to you earlier.” He held out his hand. “I am David King.”
“Oooh!” Fronk exclaimed, shaking King’s hand rigorously. “King David! How do you do, Sire?”
“Ah, no. No, no. It is just David. Not Sire.”
“Of course, your majesty. Whatever you say, Sire.”
“But, William, my brother, I--”
Fuller put his arm across his shoulders and began to guide him out of Fronk’s office. “Forget about it. You’re not going to win.”
When President Ballou climbed aboard the Storm Breaker, he became fully aware of the young lady doctor’s nervousness around him. Staci evidently tried to cover up her nervousness by concentrating on checking her patient’s bandaging around his knee. Sumter decided for himself that not saying a word was the best thing he could do to avoid trouble. At the moment, he was right. The President wanted to make Staci comfortable.
He discovered an easy way to get Staci to come out of her shell. “Hey, do you mind if I just take this guy’s wounded leg and squeeze the tender area until he passes out? ‘Cause I don’t mind telling you, I’d sure love to see him squirm. Wouldn’t you?” He reached for Sumter’s leg as if he were going to carry on with his threat.
Staci came out of her shell, alright. She slapped his hand, causing him to jerk back unexpectedly. “I don’t care if you are the President! You leave my patient alone.”
Ballou held his hands up as if he surrendered. Then, he laughed.
Staci glared at him until his laughter got to her. A smile appeared on her face. Then, she let out a laugh.
“Dr. Cohen…may I call you Staci?”
She nodded. “Yes, Mr. President.”
“Then, you can call me Walter.”
“Oh, no, sir…I couldn’t. You’re the President.”
“He likes to be on a first name basis,” Sumter tried to tell her, gritting his teeth through the pain he was experiencing. “He’s the only President I know of… who despises formality.”
Ballou glared at him. “Excuse me, you’re the prisoner here and you’d better adhere to the only right you have right now and that right is silence. So shut up before I exercise my right as President to shut you up.”
Sumter not only clamped his mouth shut, but he also looked away.
Ballou shook his head in complete disgust. “I’ll deal with you later.” He turned to Staci and picked up right where they left off before the interruption. “And, yes, you can. It’s real easy. Just say Walter.”
Staci nodded once. “Okay. Walter…Mr. President.”
“I swear to you, the people who work for Darren are as stubborn as mules.” He regarded her. “But you didn’t really work for Director Fuller, did you?”
She shook her head.
“I have an idea. Why don’t we exchange our stories? We’ll even let this poor lost soul listen in on our testimonies and maybe they’ll reach his heart. Maybe he’ll even get saved before I have him put up against a firing squad.”
Staci smiled. “Mr. President…you’re saved?”
“Yes, I am. I was told you were as well.”
She reached over and hugged him, glad to know that the President of the United States was also her brother in Christ. “Oh, I’m so happy for you!” Before they exchanged their testimonies, however, she realized what he had said. “Uhm, Mr. President, you’re not really going to have him executed, are you?”
“Why do you ask? If I told you I was considering it, would you stop treating him?”
“Well, this is the place, isn’t it?“ Barrington began as he walked slowly toward the farm. “This is the place our dear, ole Pa told us about.”
Erin nodded as she walked beside him, leading Sir Prize along by the reigns. “I believe so.” She pointed at the silo. “He said the shelter would be over there.”
“Then, that’s where we’re heading.”
“What do I do about Sir Prize? Should I put him in the barn?”
Barrington looked around. Finally, he shook his head. “No. I wouldn’t do that. Someone could come along and either take him or worse. Here, let’s just take off the saddle and let him run free. I have a feeling he won’t stray too far from home.”
Together, they removed the saddle from the horse and then patted his back. Sir Prize bobbed his head and made a noise. With that he turned away from them and trotted off toward the green meadow. Barrington and Erin watched him go. Then, Barrington took the saddle and hoisted it up upon the fence where he left it.
He and Erin resumed their walk toward the silo.
“How long have you and Michael been friends?” Erin suddenly asked.
Barrington glanced at her. “Since I was thirteen. Why?”
She shrugged. “Because…I guess you would know why he’s always so angry.”
“You think he’s angry?”
“And you don’t?”
“He’s just doing his job, Erin.”
“He’s kind of brutal about it, don’t you think?”
Barrington shrugged. “Yeah, I suppose he is. But he didn’t come to Christ like we did. We have to keep him in our prayers.”
Erin nodded. “I’ve been praying for him. I’m just afraid his heart will harden and it’ll be too late for him, you know? He is really angry, Al. It comes off from him in waves and if he continues to hang onto it, it will curse him.”
“I know.”
“So why is he angry?”
“That…isn’t my place to say.”
“But you do know why…don’t you?”
Barrington took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yes, Erin…I do.”
It was party time.
That’s what the Four Horsemen and their new victim thought anyway. Jim was about to become a victim to a “harmless” prank and the party would become nothing but a nightmare without end. Didn’t innocent, harmless pranks always start out as just a little joke? Only when those pranks carried heavy consequences did anyone realize how dangerous they truly were.
But…it was party time.
It was Friday night and five kids rode their bikes onto the private property of the TNT Construction site on Miller Road. It was an appropriate name for a construction company. It was also appropriate for the prank as well for it was about to explode with disastrous results. The kids rode in with their goodies and they hid their bikes out of site. Then, they took their goodies into one of the foundations of the buildings in the process of being constructed.
Joe brought a bottle of Jack Daniels. “My folks may be Christians,” he announced proudly. Then, he grinned and waggled his eyebrows. “…but my Uncle Rory ain’t!”
Sean held up a bag of something, which looked like parsley…but wasn’t. “I brought something special.”
Jim blinked at him, nervously wondering what he had gotten himself into. “Wh-what is that?”
“It’s dope…ya dope!” Sean held up a pipe. “I brought along it’s helper.”
“Where’d you get that?”
Michael shook his head. “Jim…”
Jim looked at the White Rider.
Michael paused as if he were about to lecture someone that was beneath him. “Jim,” he said again, “if you want to be in with us, you never…and I mean never ask where one of us has gotten something we’re not supposed to have. It’s a forbidden subject. You see, when one of us brings something…” He shrugged. “…you just accept it.” He placed a hand on Jim’s shoulder and smiled. “Okay?”
Jim swallowed nervously, but finally, he nodded.
“Good. Now…Joe brought something and Sean brought something…” He looked at Eric. “What did you bring?”
Eric held up a paper bag. “Potato chips.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah. That’s it.”
Sean snickered. “If there was anything in there besides potato chips, he already ate them.”
Michael grinned. “Okay, Jim…what did you bring?”
Jim opened his bag and pulled out a six pack of Heineken beer.
Michael was impressed. “Nice going, Jim. Alright, everybody. Let’s gather around and dig in.”
Jim, not knowing any better, looked at Michael and said, “What did you bring?”
Sean shook his head. “Oh, no, no, no, no.” He made tsking sounds.
Joe and Eric exchanged looks of doom and Michael folded his arms across his chest.
Jim almost turned white at that point. “Wh-what did I do?”
“You erred,” Joe told him. “Now you shall be sentenced by the judge. The White Rider shall pronounce what shall come of ye!” He made a squawking noise and flapped his arms.
“But…but I don’t know what I did!”
Michael sighed. “You’re right, Jim. I should be fair on you because you’re new. Plus, you did bring the beer so I won’t sentence you this time.”
Jim only looked half relieved.
“You’re new and have much to learn. Pale Rider…would you tell Jim what he did wrong?”
Sean straightened. “Of course…Jim, the White Rider is our fearless leader so therefore, he is responsible for bringing nothing to the party or any other party hereafter and thereunto and so forth and so on, yada yada. And so as to Article number 4 of statute number 334 of the Four Horsemen rules of life - which is number 42 - must be adhered to and accepted upon entry of such membership. Do you understand what I have just said…” He pointed both fingers dramatically at Jim. “…to you?”
Jim blinked. “Ahh…I think so.”
“Good. Now, let’s party!”
And so they partied. They each had a beer, smoked some wacky weed and ate potato chips. Actually, Eric ate most of the potato chips but that was to be expected. Jim loosened up a bit and actually felt like part of the gang. He truly was enjoying his new friends.
Michael looked at his watch. He nodded to Joe and Sean.
“Gotta go do something,” Sean said with a snicker and he took off from the foundation.
Joe stood up. “He might get lost. I’ll be right back.” He hurried after Sean.
Michael looked at Eric, who was eating the last of the chips. Michael cleared his throat.
Eric looked at him.
Michael waited.
Eric continued to look at him, but he was puzzled now.
Michael tapped his watch and sighed.
“Oh, right…” Eric rose to his feet. “I gotta do something, too.” He got up and abruptly took off.
“Must be the beer,” Jim said when it was just himself and Michael.
Michael nodded. “Yeah. Listen…we passed the pit when we came in. Do you remember? It’s where they have their cement mixing gear?”
Jim nodded.
“Why don’t you meet us there and we’ll continue with the party?”
Jim hesitated. “Are…are you gonna do something?”
Michael grinned. “Yes. We are.”
“But…I-I thought I was…I was one of you guys.”
“That’s just it. You are.”
Jim paused. “I am? Really?”
Michael nodded. “We have a surprise for you. It’s what we do when we let others into our group. Kind of like…initiation. What it does is make you…a permanent member of the gang. Isn’t that what you want?”
Jim nodded, smiling from ear to ear. “Yes! I want to be a member of the gang! Thank you, Michael…I-I mean White Rider!”
“You can call me Michael. I’m going now. Give us a few minutes. Then…bring the pipe and the beer we have left. Also bring the empties. We don’t like to leave messes here when we do this. Bring it all and we’ll meet you at the pit.”
Jim nodded eagerly. “Okay.”
“We’ll see you in a few minutes.” With that, Michael got up and left.
Jim was filled with anticipation. He was like a kid waiting to wake up on Christmas morning to find a lot of presents under the tree just for him. Only it was doubled because the reality was that his family didn’t celebrate Christmas at all. For the first time in his life, he really did have something to look forward to and now he even had friends.
Friends!
He couldn’t believe it.
He waited as long as he could until finally, his excitement ready to burst, he gathered the empty beer bottles and the last one that hadn’t been opened yet, he picked up the pipe and the rest of the wacky weed and put it all in a bag. Then, he proudly carried it back to where he was told to go.
To the pit. To where the cement mixing equipment was.
As he got close to the area, he saw his bike leaning against the equipment. He got to his bike and looked at it. Then, he looked around. There were no other bikes. In fact, he didn’t see any of the Four Horsemen anywhere. Maybe this was part of the surprise. They were just going to jump out at him and yell surprise. Maybe they even had a cake.
He smiled.
Suddenly, lights came on and shone in his eyes. He raised his hand up to protect his vision as two dark silhouettes began to approach him from the light.
“Alright, son,” one of them said, “the party’s over.”
When the two men stood before him, Jim realized it was the police.
Yes, the party was over. All he could think of was how much trouble he was going to be in when his father found out about this.
In the woods, the Four Horsemen watched as the police put Jim into the car and his bike into their trunk. They snickered and tried not to laugh too hard. Michael had watched everything closely and from where he was, one thing struck him the most. He couldn’t shake it or understand it, but only knew he had to keep it from bothering him. He had seen the look on Jim’s face just before they put him in their car.
It was terror.
Why was Jim Barnes so afraid?
Michael shrugged it off. The party was over and it was time to go home. That was another reason for not going to the family reunion. For the first time in his life, he was going to have the whole house to himself. No sobby sister. No little brother to tell him he was going to go to Hell because he was a liar. No Mom and no Dad. Just himself.
At least, that had been the plan.
It didn’t go that way.
He parted with the Four Horsemen and headed home on his bike. There was a car in the driveway and he thought his parents and brother and sister had come home, but when he got to the driveway he realized it wasn’t his Dad’s car. It was his grandparent’s car.
Puzzled, he left the bike on the yard and looked toward the house. The lights were on. Hesitating, Michael went inside. His Grandmother was sitting at the table in the dining room reading from the Bible and waiting for him.
When Michael saw Grandma Ruth Lenox sitting there, he suddenly felt scared and ashamed. Something was wrong. There was no way this was going to be good.
Ruth looked up and saw him. She smiled. It wasn’t a sarcastic smile. It wasn’t a smirk. It was simply a smile of love and that love was in her eyes as she looked at her grandson. “Oh, Michael,” she said softly. “When I look at you, I see a little of your mother looking back at me.”
Michael had no idea how to respond to that so he just remained silent.
She patted the table. “Please…Come and sit at the table with me. I…I have something to tell you.”
He again hesitated, but somehow he made his feet move toward the table where he finally sat down and waited for the hammer to drop.
“I’m just going to tell you, Michael,” Grandma Ruth said as she leaned toward him. “There was an accident today. A truck seemed to have lost control and it hit your parent’s car. It was on the passenger side.” She paused. “Your father is alright. Sam and Hannah are, too…but…” Her eyes glistened with tears. “I’m afraid to have to tell you this. Your mother is…She’s with Jesus now.”
Michael blinked. “What do you mean she’s with Jesus?”
Very softly, Ruth said, “She died. She…can’t come home to you any more.”
He shook his head. “No…She’ll be home.”
“Michael…”
He stood up so suddenly, the chair fell to the floor behind him. “No!” he shouted angrily. “Mom can’t be dead! She can’t be because I was supposed to sit where she sat!”
Michael ran up to his room and slammed the door. For the first time in a long time, he cried. Tears streamed down his face as he fell onto his bed. Great sobs of anguish shook his body as the words of his father came back to him. “Whatever you do this weekend, you’d better be prepared to take responsibility for your actions.”
He should have gone. He would have sat in the front seat on the passenger side. He would have been the one who would have died…instead of his mother. How could he have been so selfish? His mother was dead because of him. He vowed to always take responsibility for his own actions. He vowed never again to be so weak as to shed tears. He vowed to never again bully anyone.
Vows were good.
Taking responsibility and claiming it was right.
But what he had done was only the beginning. Before long, there would be one more thing he would have to take responsibility for. He blamed himself for his mother’s death. Soon, he would blame himself for another.
Si was almost there. He stayed hidden from view as he made his way up the hill in the hopes of flanking the enemy. The mission may have gone badly, but he intended to do his best to complete it. He would kill the man on the hill with the sniper rifle and then he would kill the President.
But time was running out.
He was up on the hill now and he saw a black man lying on the ground leveling his rifle at someone below. Si looked down and saw his own fellow soldier moving in on the wounded agent’s position. The fool was completely out in the open. Why would he do that?
Si silently cursed fate for assigning him with fools. He should have been the one to lead this mission. Not some old man who was fighting with his conscience. And not some fools who got themselves killed.
He raised his own weapon. He was close enough to kill the black soldier on the hill and he would. He had to do it, however, before the man pulled the trigger and took out his companion below. Si’s finger began to tighten on the trigger.
But it was a split second too slow.
Moore pulled the trigger.
Craack - Boom!
And just at the same time, another gun went off at close range. Si froze. Puzzled, he looked down and saw blood coming from a small hole in his chest. Slowly, he turned his head.
There had been one other secret service agent in hiding. He wasn’t hiding any more. He was standing with his weapon aimed at Si, watching him from a short distance. Si looked at him. Then, he fell down the hill.
The agent lowered his weapon and moved toward Moore. Moore watched him, leveling the rifle toward him. When he realized who it was he relaxed and looked back down the hill.
The agent hunkered down beside Moore. “Pa,” he said as he scanned the area below, “I thought you were in retirement.”
“So did I, son,” Moore commented. “Looks like we were both wrong.” He sighed. “I think there’s only one left. The crazy white fellow that was here with me took out two of them. I got another…and you got the one gunning for me. Thank you for saving my life, by the way. So that leaves one more.”
Charles McLaughlin nodded as he listened to Moore. He had just been joining the service of the Secret Service when Moore was leaving. Moore trained him and several others for over a year and then retired.
“Let’s get down the hill,” McLaughlin replied as he helped the older man up. “I want to see how my partner is doing.”
The two men climbed down the hill without any opposition. By the time they came to McLaughlin’s partner, it was already too late. The wound the man had received had been too severe and it lead him to his death.
Only one question remained.
Where was Michael Lenox?
Lenox had been fighting with guilt since he was thirteen. He fought with it in his sleep. He fought with it in his waking hours. It’s what caused him to hang onto his anger because without it, he couldn’t possibly function. It was the driving force behind him, which caused him to be able to do his job.
His mother had died because of him. He hated himself for it. He could never forgive himself. But her death was not the only death he was responsible for. How could he ever forgive himself for it?
The man he hunted now would soon be another death he would be responsible for. He didn’t know the man. He only knew he was a terrorist sent by the North Koreans to assassinate the President of the United States. Lenox was going to kill him. Plain and simple. He was going to do it because it was his duty to.
He found the weapons the man had been carrying and wondered why he had dropped them. It didn’t matter. Duty was duty.
Lenox looked toward the sound of singing and saw a church. Slowly he moved forward, purposing in his heart to carry on with his duty at all cost.
1 - Revelation 6:3 - 4
2 - Revelation 6:5 - 6
3 - Revelation 6:7 - 8
4 - Revelation 16:13
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