Draven Cross was proud of what he had been able to accomplish during the opening day of the summit. All of the critical political influencers in the world had agreed to his vision for the future, but what was even more significant was that they had accepted his authority over them. As he listened with the rest of the group to the final economic brief on the impacts and steps required to ensure Project Babylon’s financial success, he knew he would rest well tonight knowing that his future was bright. As the presentation concluded, he rose to speak.
“Please allow me to thank the World Bank and International Monetary Fund for outlining the steps we will need to take to achieve a better financial future. As we prepare to close out a long but fruitful day, I’d like to cover a few final items,” Cross began.
“First, during the remainder of the week, we will focus on smaller breakout sessions between your political and economic advisors and my team for the purpose of outlining a schedule of your upcoming responsibilities, namely, the contributions of military arms to the newly established Global Peace Assurance Directorate here at the U.E.”
Rodgers interrupted, “Yes, sir. I was pleased to once again provide so much capability to the U.E., but could you describe for everyone’s edification what the Global Peace Assurance Directorate is meant to accomplish?”
“For the sake of everyone’s evening plans, I will simply say that this directorate has the teeth to ensure peace amongst nations here on Earth. My Global Peace Assurance forces are a departure from the lackluster U.N. peacekeepers who were woefully under-resourced, trained, or equipped for any mission. U.E. Global Peace Assurance soldiers will be able to isolate and destroy any threat to the peace we are striving to achieve. Is that clear enough for you, President Rodgers?” Draven asked sharply.
“Yes, Mr. Secretary-General, it is quite clear for all of us, I am sure,” President Rodgers responded dryly.
“Good. In closing, please note the time on your schedules for your one-on-one meeting with me this week. In this meeting, I will provide you with refined guidance on your future role and my expectations. Then our summit will conclude on Friday with a briefing on bridging the religious and political elements of the world. Thank you for your support and best efforts in making the world a place of peace and harmony for all of humanity. I will see you all soon. Good night.”
Gabriella watched as many of the world leaders quickly moved to thank and congratulate Draven on Project Babylon and their expected roles. She saw President Rodgers, Aguilar, and the Nigerian president talking in their own little huddle, and she wondered what the obviously tense men were discussing. President Rodgers shook hands with the other two men and called Gabriella over to him as they walked away.
He started talking when she was close enough to prevent others from hearing their conversation. “What a day. I have a raging headache from listening to all the lies and watching everyone fawn all over Draven. I will send you a couple of messages tonight regarding what I plan to do over the next few months, based on what I heard here today. Stay safe, and keep me in the loop if you hear anything regarding America or me. I meet privately with Draven on Friday, right before the closeout briefing.”
“I will keep you updated, sir, but today has me worried. I mean, am I mistaken or did everyone here today just willingly accept Draven Cross taking over the world? What politician have you ever known to just accept giving up power without at least a token protest?” Gabriella asked.
“Something tells me that Draven has dirt on everyone in this room and has placed enough fear into most of them, minus me, that they are afraid to challenge him, at least right now. Don’t get me wrong, Draven has an extraordinary ability to appeal to people, which in my mind indicates the real power behind the man—Satan. I know I’ve already told you that, as far as I’m concerned, he’s the Antichrist.”
Gabriella tried to hide a grimace. “Sir, don’t you think that’s a bit far-fetched? Look, I agree he is an egomaniac bent on world domination, but really? The devil hiding in the bushes? Let’s just devise some way to sabotage his economic and military objectives.”
“Just expect a message from me later tonight. I am not planning to just take Draven’s fleecing of America lying down,” President Rodgers replied before heading out of the conference room and across the U.E. lobby.
Gabriella was worried as she watched Rodgers leave. He seemed resigned to picking a fight with Draven over his policies. She knew enough about Draven to realize that if she couldn’t dissuade Rodgers to abandon that plan, Draven would destroy the man and America just to prove a point. As she entered the elevator that would take her to her office, she felt helpless. It appeared she was in an impossible situation that had no analytical or logical solution. As Gabriella sat at her desk and prepared to send a message to Christopher and Jackson, she heard her mother’s voice echoing in her mind—giving advice that had irritated her as a child. “Gabby, you need to realize that you can’t outthink every problem. Sometimes you need to accept help. God’s strength, a power that can help you overcome any problem, is available only after you surrender the problem to Him.”
Gabriella had no idea how she was going to keep Draven Cross from considering President Rodgers and America as his enemy, but she knew she had to try. Perhaps God was the answer.
The major needed to clear his head after listening to the chief master sergeant and the sergeant major talk. He walked to the smoker’s shack, a small three-sided shed that offered just enough shelter to encourage those on the base who still participated in the unfashionable habit of smoking to gather inside for fellowship and indulgence. No matter the temperature it was rarely empty, so Christopher was grateful to find himself alone in the seatless shed so he could think in solitude about his ongoing conflict with God.
Hearing Jimbo’s story made his own dilemma all the more real. Though the chief’s parents had lived with a superficial religious understanding of what being a Christian meant and were now facing the consequences for their crime of ignorance, Christopher saw an easy fix for them—they just needed to receive the truth. For himself, the answer was not so black and white. His rebellion against God had a long history. He already knew enough about Christianity to understand God was real and to realize that salvation rested on establishing a relationship with God through accepting Jesus as his Savior, but Christopher’s loss of loved ones in his early life had created a resentment that made him resistant to a relationship with God despite all he knew. However, no matter how angry he was with God, the major could no longer deny that he needed that same God to whom he had thrown up his fist in defiance if he hoped to survive the tribulations ahead.
The war within Christopher’s heart and mind were a burden that weighed on him deeply, a battle he would lose for eternity if he chose to continue fighting God. He worried about what steps God would take to bring him to surrender. He remembered his grandmother saying, “God has a way of getting our attention. Sometimes it’s more painful than we want, but He will get our attention.” A part of Christopher wished something dramatic would happen that just allowed him to accept God’s gift of salvation. He wondered how many times he would get to cheat death before he lost his life. At the thought of dying without “getting things right with God,” as his grandmother would say, he shivered—or maybe he was just getting cold.
The major’s quantum communicator vibrated in his parka pocket, indicating a new message had arrived. The display read. “You have a new package from Susan. You have 15 minutes to access this message before it is destroyed.” Christopher pressed the authenticate button and began reading the news from Gabriella. The further he read, the more troubled he became.
“Chris and Jackson, I hope you’re both staying warm in Alaska. Things are moving quickly here. Draven continues to consolidate world power. His vision for the emerging new world political order is named Project Babylon. For the sake of brevity, just understand that his plan is a centralized world government with ten regions governed by leaders handpicked by Draven himself and considered to be loyal to him. Rodgers is one of the ten, so Draven’s wrong about at least one of the ten.
“The president concerns me. Between what he has you guys doing and his growing hatred for Draven, I think he’s driving us toward a conflict. I am open to any suggestions to head him off, but I can’t even think straight most days. I am struggling to determine God’s influence in our lives, in my life, this whole rapture thing, and my search for some sort of scientific, logical explanation for all that is happening.
“Well, it’s late here, and I am exhausted. President Rodgers told me in an earlier message that he plans to reach out to you two, but wouldn’t tell me for what. If you would just give me a heads up on what he discusses with you, I would be grateful. I am worried, guys. I think he believes he can take down Draven, but I am not so sure of that.
“Take care, my Arctic Warriors, from the sassy woman stuck with the devil (haha). That’s just to rile you up, Jackson.”
As Christopher finished reading the message, his phone vibrated again with a message from the Eagle. He also saw Jackson quickly moving toward him among what looked like some soldiers eager for a smoke break.
“Hey, did you read Gabriella’s message?” Jackson asked.
“Yeah, I just finished, but let’s head into the barracks to have this conversation.” The major nodded to the two smokers who entered the small shed.
“Okay. I also got an email from President Rodgers,” the sergeant major replied quietly.
“Me, too. Let’s go in here,” Christopher answered, opening the door to a large barracks bay lined with cots and sleeping bags.
“So what do you make of that message from Gabriella? It sounds like she’s in trouble.”
“Yeah, I think she’s overwhelmed. Gabriella wants to be able to think up a solution for everything—so not being able to solve the emerging problems between Draven Cross and the president are going to eat at her. Add to that the fact that Cross is running intellectual laps around her, and Gabriella is being forced way out of her comfort zone,” Christopher replied tersely. “On the other hand, the Project Babylon one-world government sounds like trouble for the good ole U.S. of A. I think you were right in saying our days with the U.S. military are likely numbered.”
“Man, I am telling you, Draven Cross is the Antichrist and he is establishing his global kingdom. The next thing we should be concerned with is the coming global war that’s described in Revelation 6:3–4, which is the opening of the second seal judgment. From the looks of this base and the effects the Bible describes postwar, I think nukes are going to be in play. The tribulation will accelerate quickly from the breaking of the second seal forward, and as we say in our line of work, the environment will become ‘non-permissive’ for Christians. In time, Draven and his followers will kill everyone who claims to be a follower of Christ,” Jackson asserted. His confidence shook the major.
“I think the time is quickly coming to work on the plan for occupying our new base of operations in Alabama, don’t you think?” Christopher questioned.
“Absolutely. My family homestead in Alabama will be perfect. It’s remote and has a small airstrip.”
“We can talk about the details later,” Major Barrrett said, lifting his device to display the letter. “For now, let’s see what the president wants.” Jackson stepped closer to Christopher so they could both read the message on one screen while pressing the button on his communicator to erase the president’s message.
“Boys, I hope the polar bears haven’t chased you off. I wish I could say things are getting better here, but they’re not. Gabriella has likely already told you about Project Babylon, so I will spare you that discussion. What she doesn’t know—and I don’t want you guys to say anything to her yet—is that I am planning to conduct a massive military strike against Draven, his assets, and those that are following him within the next three months. I’ve been working on this since I heard his first speech. Gentlemen, I will not go down in history as the American president who allowed some two-bit thug to destroy our way of life without a fight.
“I have little faith or trust in the U.S. intelligence services, much less the other leaders in our nation, after the willingness of so many to go along with Draven Cross’s stripping of our military power and sovereignty. So what I am asking of you tonight is that you head into the fray once again. The nukes will be safe until we are ready to strike. I need your talents elsewhere.
“I’ve gotten word from a couple of other leaders here with me in New York that Cross is building his new HQ somewhere in Iraq. I want you to fly to Israel and link up with our old friend Defense Minister Benjamin Havid. See if the Israelis have some insight into Draven’s plans in the region. I know most of Israel is infatuated with the peace ceremony and the rebuilding of their temple, but Havid has signaled that he has his doubts about Draven’s intentions, which is good enough for me.
“I am sending the C-39XER jet to Anchorage tonight so you guys can fly out tomorrow. That will put you there ahead of next week’s scheduled peace signing ceremony with Draven Cross at the embassy in Jerusalem. Godspeed, and I will be in touch. The Eagle.”
Jackson thoughtfully said, “If, as the president believes, Draven Cross is the Antichrist, then no matter what we throw at him militarily, he won’t be defeated until Jesus’ second coming. God, please help us.”
“I agree we need some help because I have no ideas at this point on keeping the U.S. out of a war with Draven Cross’s growing regime,” Christopher responded.
Draven could not have scripted a better week. Project Babylon had been a rousing success, and the nine leaders he had selected had accepted his plan with no resistance. Of course, the fact that Rodgers had not tried to fight him made him wary. While the American political infrastructure had made it easy to push his agenda, he was reasonably sure there must be some of the fighter pilot spirit left in Rodgers. He had to be sure the old dolt was not trying something; he needed someone inside his inner circle.
His thoughts were interrupted by Gemma’s voice coming through his intercom. “What is it? I told you I was not to be disturbed for the next two hours,” he snapped harshly.
“I know, sir, but security says they want you to meet a Mr. John Barnes who’s been downstairs in the lobby demanding an audience with you. He says he knows America’s secrets,” Gemma explained.
“So I work for security and you now, Gemma? Get rid of this mental patient. It’s likely all he wants is my autograph or something. And don’t disturb me until President Rodgers arrives for his meeting. Is that understood?”
“Okay, sir, but he told security he used to work for Omega Group,” Gemma added smoothly.
“Interesting. Okay, have security bring him up. I will give Mr. Barnes the chance to persuade me not to put him in jail,” Draven muttered irritably. A few minutes later, John Barnes was escorted into Draven’s office by two large U.E. security officers.
“Good morning, Mr. Barnes. I understand you have a dire need to meet with me. So I hope, for your sake, that this interruption to my time is worth your efforts,” Draven said sharply, staring coldly at John Barnes.
“Mr. Secretary-General, by the end of our discussion, you will hire me. I think you should ask your security to leave the room. The information I have is sensitive,” John Barnes stated confidently.
“Bold statement, Mr. Barnes. Just know that if you fail to deliver or if you attempt any malfeasance here today, your error will cost you your life. Leave us,” Draven ordered the security officers.
John Barnes turned and watched as the two security guards closed the glass doors of Draven’s office behind them, drawing high-powered handguns as they stood watching the meeting.
“I have something for you.” Barnes opened his suit jacket and looked down to retrieve the item from an inside pocket. His hand froze when he heard a stern warning from the man he’d come to see.
“Easy, Mr. Barnes. I may seem like a harmless politician, but if you wish to live to see tomorrow, slowly retrieve whatever you’re looking for in that pocket,” Draven commanded.
As Barnes raised his head, he was surprised to see Draven holding a gun, and shocked to see the red laser dot dead center on his shirtfront as he glanced down where the gun was pointing.
“I can assure you sure, sir, I am no threat to you, and that gun is not necessary,” Barnes replied cooly, slowly pulling a small USB flash drive from his suit jacket and holding it up in one hand.
“What’s on the drive, Mr. Barnes?”
“In my hand, I hold the operational plans for President Rodgers’s military strike against the U.E., including the locations of several undeclared nuclear weapons on a remote base in Alaska.”
“My, my. That would be worth an offer of employment. How did you come by this information?”
“I recently quit Omega Group after seeing the writing on the wall for the American military and the devaluing the nation held for soldiers like me. But before I left the group, I discovered these plans and downloaded them from a classified database in the Omega Group office.”
“Ah, you were fired. I am guessing for being a bit of a rogue as well as brash. And now you’re selling state secrets to who you assume will be the highest bidder. A risky maneuver, Mr. Barnes, coming to me first. Your assumption that I will not have you killed for being a traitor may have been premature,” Draven answered, racking back the slide on the handgun.
“Sir, please, I am telling you the truth,” Barnes pleaded, raising both hands.
“Gemma, dear, please bring your laptop into my office,” Draven said into his intercom, the handgun still pointed at Barnes.
“Oh my God, sir,” Gemma exclaimed as she entered Draven’s office to find John Barnes, shaking hands raised, with a bright red laser dot on his chest.
“Calm yourself, my dear. I am just in the middle of an intense employment interview with Mr. Barnes here. Please take the flash drive from Mr. Barnes, pull up a chair next to me, and open the flash drive. If what Mr. Barnes described to me is located on the device, he has a job. If it is not… Well, my dear, Mr. Barnes will hate my employment rejection process,” Draven said, smiling.
Gemma was shaking like a leaf in the wind as she walked over to John Barnes and took the flash drive from him. She pulled up a chair from the conference table in Draven’s office and plugged the flash drive into a USB port. “Sir, what should I be looking for on here?” Her voice wasn’t quite steady when she spoke.
“Mr. Barnes, please tell Gemma the name of the operation,” Draven instructed.
Barnes said, “The only folder on the drive is named Operation Eagle Storm.”
“Eagle Storm…that is a ghastly and sophomoric name,” Draven said, laughing. “Gemma, is that the name of the file you see?” His hand was unwavering as he held the gun on Barnes.
“Yes, sir, it is,” Gemma confirmed.
“Great. Open it, then leave the office and send in the U.E. security officers,” Draven ordered.
Gemma clicked open the file and quickly made her way out of the office, flushed and sweating, waving the security detail into the office without speaking.
“Gentlemen, I want you to kill Mr. Barnes if I give the word,” Draven said starkly. He then turned his attention to Gemma’s laptop and the open Operation Eagle Storm folder. He quickly pored over President Rodgers’s directives to dispatch and secure several nuclear weapons on a remote base in Alaska. The files even contained a Presidental Security Memo to his coconspirators, namely, the Nigeran president and former U.N. secretary-general Aguilar, who both had been named future ambassadors by Draven earlier in the week. Anger exploded in Draven’s chest, and he swore out loud.
“Well, here is what I am prepared to offer you, Mr. Barnes, for your efforts to ensure global peace and prosperity,” Draven Cross said when he calmed himself enough. “Effective immediately, you will be named the U.E. Special Activities Unit Commander. I will empower you to only one end, which will be the rooting out and elimination of threats to the U.E., myself, or my interests. I will plan a meeting with you later today along with my head of intelligence, Dr. Gabriella Costa, whom I am sure you know.”
“Thank you, sir,” Barnes replied. “However, I don’t know if it would be wise to bring in Dr. Costa. I don’t know if she was even aware of the operation against the U.E., but she may tip off President Rodgers.”
“Mr. Barnes, you’re alive only due to your penchant for having a weak moral consistency that serves my needs, not to be a critical thinker on my staff,” Cross replied disdainfully. “Get out of my office, and coordinate with Gemma for the details of our meeting later today.”
“Yes, sir,” Barnes said before departing with the security guards.
Once the office doors closed, Draven sought the counsel of his spiritual mentor. He shouted, “Prince of this World, what should I do with this information? I feel I should kill President Rodgers and his henchmen where they stand right now!”
“No, this will serve my purposes. You will play along with their ruse until my appointed time. Remember to trust and serve only me,” came the message from the Prince to Draven’s thoughts.
“Fine,” Draven shouted, “but they will pay for their disrespect toward me.”
Gabriella was heading to Draven’s office to provide some information he’d requested ahead of his meeting with President Rodgers when she saw John Barnes heading toward the elevators. The sly wink he sent her way as he boarded the elevator made her blood run cold. She hurried over to Gemma’s desk to figure out why John Barnes, a former Omega Group soldier, was in the U.E. HQ.
“Gemma, why was John Barnes here today?” Dr. Costa asked, working hard to sound only mildly curious.
“He met with Draven earlier saying he had American secrets to share,” Gemma answered.
Gabriella was unable to form an immediate response, her mind instantly jumping to the worst case scenario: that Barnes had somehow discovered she was a spy for Rodgers.
Gemma’s intercom buzzed, and she heard Draven’s voice on the other end.
“Find Gabriella. Tell her I am ready for her report,” Draven directed.
“I will send her in momentarily, sir,” Gemma replied. After she disconnected from the intercom speaker, she turned to Dr. Costa and, appearing genuinely frightened, whispered,” Draven was going to kill Mr. Barnes if he had been lying, so I am guessing Barnes told him something of value. The man is starting to scare me, Gabriella.”
“Yeah, we should get together some time after work and discuss our interesting work environment. In the meantime, just be strong and try to stay on Draven’s good side. Speaking of which, I’d better get in there before you get in trouble.”
“Thanks, and be careful,” Gemma cautioned.
You have no idea how careful I am trying to be, Gemma, Gabriella thought as she entered Draven Cross’s office.
Jimbo was a little worried and voiced as much as he drove Jackson and Christopher to the helipad for their flight to Anchorage and then Israel. “Guys, I know you can’t tell me all the details, but it seems risky to be working against the most powerful man in the world. You could be walking into an ambush,” he warned.
“I know, Jimbo, but right now we all still work for the president of the United States, and he is trying to figure out just what Draven Cross is up to,” Christopher replied.
“I already know what he’s up to,” Jackson said assertively. “Nothing good.”
“I agree,” Jimbo said. “Mr. Cross is my number one candidate for being the biblical Antichrist.”
“Look, before you two both get into the spiritual ramifications of who we’re dealing with, let me just say, remember that you could be wrong. Draven could just be a slick politician who is trying to destroy our country,” Christopher replied reasonably.
“Yeah, and fish might not be wet in the water, but the evidence says they are. The same thing goes for Saint Cross. The evidence says he’s the Antichrist,” Jackson stated forcefully.
Laughing, Christopher responded, “Jackson, I can’t even do the country boy logic thing with you right now. I am just saying let’s focus on what we can control, like getting the requested information back to the president and then getting back here and finishing this job.”
“I will be praying for you guys. And don’t worry. I will keep everything and everybody in order while you’re gone,” Jimbo said as the SUSV pulled up to the Blackhawk helicopter waiting to ferry them to Anchorage.
“Thanks, brother,” Christopher replied. “We’ll let you know when we’re heading back. Take care.”
“Yeah, thanks, man. Keep us in your prayers. The Middle East isn’t exactly a vacation spot,” Jackson said, closing the door to the SUSV and running for the helo.