L a marzulli nephilim.., p.35
L. A. Marzulli - Nephilim 01, page 35
Elisha frowned. “I believe it was a fallen angel or demon that you encountered, and I will not hesitate in using those terms interchangeably from this point forward. You challenged it, at least you tried to, and it fought back, unleashing its fury on you and everyone else. The next time this happens—”
“Wait, wait,” Mac stammered, “what do you mean, the next time?”
Elisha was silent for a moment. “There will be a next time, MacKenzie,” he spoke softly. ‘And when that time comes you will be ready to take authority over it.”
“Authority?” Mac asked.
“There is a passage in Scripture that deals with an exorcism. Briefly told, a man is possessed by a demon. Seven brothers go and try to exorcise it. But the demon taunts them and actually beats them and throws them out of the house.”
“Sounds similar to what happened here,” Mac replied.
“Yes,” Elisha agreed, “and when the next encounter happens, you must fight with the weapons of the Spirit. You must command it in the name of Jesus to leave and you must tell it to remain quiet. But there is something more. In the story, the demon gives us a clue as to why the men who came to exorcise it were powerless. The demon says to them, `Jesus I know and Paul, but you I do not!”
“What does that mean?” Mac asked.
“It means that those seven brothers were not infused with the Spirit of the Living God. And without that Spirit they were powerless. But you have God’s Spirit dwelling in you, Mac. You have the authority—you need to use it.” “How?” Mac asked, dumbfounded.
Elisha grew passionate. “Who you are in your flesh, Art MacKenzie, has no power or authority whatsoever … but he that resides in you does. The Spirit of the Living God. It is he who will fight for you.”
“So I command it to leave in the name of Jesus and it will go?” Mac asked incredulously.
“It’s not as simple as that,” Elisha said. “The demon will project thoughts into your mind, he will forbid you to speak, choke your words, try to make you utter things you would never say. He will try to terrify you. He will prey upon your fears—things you can’t even imagine he will put into your mind.” Elisha leaned closer to the camera and his face filled the screen. “MacKenzie, this will be the hardest thing you will ever do in your life.”
Mac turned and saw that Colonel Austin was next to him and was listening intently to the conversation. He glanced to his other side and saw Maggie and Laura standing in the foyer. The room had grown quiet, and Mac realized thateveryone’s attention was riveted on what Dr. Elisha was saying.
“MacKenzie, I know you will overcome the Evil One. There are many who are praying for you, even now. Remember these aliens are the fallen ones, demons. They are unclean and can never again be in the presence of the Holy God. They are evil, malevolent, and doomed to eternal darkness! Drive them out, MacKenzie. ” The room was still with every eye turned on Mac. Mac glanced at Maggie. She smiled at him and nodded encouragingly, although tears streamed down her face. Elisha continued, “What beings of any good would take two small children against the will of their parents?” Silence in the room.
Elisha began again and his voice rose and he shouted, “When you encounter the demon again, command it by the power of the Living God to return to the Abyss!” Mac nodded.
The tension in the room was broken as one of the soldiers called out to Colonel Austin. “Colonel, we have word that the doors at the end of the tunnel are opening!”
Austin strode over to where the man sat at his terminal. He looked at the screen where a satellite view showed the huge doors of the tunnel slowly beginning to open.
“Let’s move out!” Austin yelled. “Move out! Proceed with Operation Magic! I repeat, Operation Magic is a go!”
Mac had never seen so many people move with deliberate precision. Equipment was folded, packed, and moved from the living room and onto the helicopters in minutes.
Mac went to Maggie and pulled her to his side. They stood in the foyer of the house and watched the flurry of activity.
Austin was busy poring over a map with one of his pilots. He glanced up and spotted Mac, finished his conversation, and walked over to him.
“MacKenzie, I want you in my chopper. All of you, BenHassen, and Laura if she’s up to it.”
“Wait a minute,” Maggie protested, suddenly coming to life. “If you think I’m going to stay behind wringing my hands and crying into a handkerchief, you’re greatly mistaken! I carried those kids for nine months, and I’m going to be there when we get them back.” She stared defiantly at Austin.
Austin glared at her for a moment, then his look softened and he asked, “Who will stay with your mother?”
Maggie began in earnest, “Your medical people said she’s stabilized. Besides, the ambulance will be here shortly, and one of your men could stay with her until they arrive—”
“I could do that!” a voice interrupted. It was Jim Cranston.
“How’s that?” Austin replied.
“I’ll stay with her … until the ambulance arrives. Then I have a paper I have to get back to and run.”
Mac couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He looked at Cranston, trying to figure out why he wanted to stay and miss the action, much less watch over an older woman. Is that fear in his face? he wondered.
“All right!” Austin said. “I’ll leave a radio with you, and I want you to check in when the ambulance arrives.”
“Got it,” Cranston replied.
Maggie went over to Cranston. “Thank you for staying with her. You’ve been such a big help to us.” And she hugged him.
Mac took Maggie’s hand and left the house. Uri followed just behind and assisted Laura.
Mac walked out onto the front porch and stopped. On the wooden decking of the porch lay his daughter’s book of David and Goliath. Mac reached down and picked it up. He opened it and in the light, powered from the generators, he saw the picture on the next page of Goliath lying on the ground with David holding a sword over the giant’s head, ready to hack it off.
“What are you looking at?” Uri asked.
“Part of your history … the offspring of the fallen angels … the Nephilim … Goliath the giant.”
Uri reached out and grabbed Mac by his arm. “You know what? Seeing all this has made me thinking that my grandfather is right …”
“About the aliens,” Mac offered.
Uri nodded. “I’m thinking they might just be what my grandfather believes … evil … but my mind is having still great trouble accepting this.”
Mac looked at him and was about to reassure him when Colonel Austin boomed, “Let’s move out!” He waved them to the chopper he was about to board.
They ran over to the chopper. Its blades picked up speed, fanning the air in wide circles. Mac instinctively ducked and pulled Maggie after him. They boarded the chopper, and Austin motioned for them to buckle in along with ten other men. Uri and Laura sat toward the rear. One of the soldiers fitted all of them with helmets that were equipped with internal headsets and mouthpieces, which enabled them to listen and talk to Austin and one another over the whine of the jet engine.
“We’re about to take off! Hold on!” Austin yelled as he slipped his helmet on.
He climbed into the seat next to the pilot and gave the thumbs-up sign. Instantly four choppers rose from the ground, sending a cloud of dust and debris which whirled madly about the house, cyclone-like.
Powerful searchlights from the choppers swung wildly, illuminating the house and casting garish shadows over the vineyard. Suddenly they switched off, plunging the area into the natural darkness of the night.
Cranston shielded his eyes and hurried back into the foyer. He watched as the silhouettes of the choppers grouped into a formation and headed southeast toward the direction of the secret base in Nevada.
Cranston waited until he couldn’t hear the sound of the choppers.
This was more than I ever bargained for, he thought.
He hesitated for a moment, trying to figure out what to do. Whose side is going to win? Who has the power and who will wield it in the future? he wondered. He took his cell phone from his jacket and stared at it. Finally he dialed a number.
40
Four black helicopters flew in tight formation low over the expanse of desert near the Nevada and California border. Colonel Austin checked his watch and then looked at the digitally displayed location grid on the chopper’s control panel. He adjusted his headset and barked an order into his mouthpiece. “We’re to rendezvous with the fuel trucks at checkpoint delta. Let’s set ‘em down and do it quick.”
The choppers hovered for a moment and then descended onto an area that ground forces had marked with flares. The choppers landed on the dry desert floor, their propellers billowing clouds of desert dust. As the blades slowed, men swarmed over the choppers and began to refuel them.
Austin was the first to leave the chopper. He gave a thumbs-up to the commanding sergeant of the ground forces, who snapped to attention and saluted Austin in return. A voice crackled over his headset confirming that refueling had begun. Satisfied, he went to the cargo door of the chopper and climbed into the hold to talk to MacKenzie. He found him holding his wife close to him with both arms wrapped around her.
He inspected the other men seated along the length of the aircraft. “Sergeant, take your men outside for a moment and have them stretch their legs,” he ordered.
“Yes, sir,” the sergeant answered and repeated the orders to his men. A dozen men shouldering automatic weapons and outfitted with survival gear left the rear of the chopper.
Austin found a seat directly across from Mac and Maggie. He motioned to Laura and Uri to move up and join them.
He took off his helmet. “MacKenzie, I have a question I’d like to throw at you.”
Mac managed a weary smile. “Fire away.”
Maggie opened her eyes but remained wrapped in Mac’s arms.
Austin took off his beret, revealing a bald head. He scratched it vigorously and asked, “Do you believe what Dr. BenHassen said about these aliens … that they might be fallen angels or demons?”
“Yes, I do, Colonel, especially in light of my firsthand encounter with one,” Mac replied.
Austin frowned. He lowered his voice, then asked in a frustrated tone, “Then how am I supposed to fight them?”
Mac loosened the chin strap on his helmet and answered, “I’m not so sure myself … Before you came in I was praying for protection. And that we would have the strength to fight when the time comes.”
“And how do you think we are to do that?” Austin growled. “One thing I learned from my encounter, both at the base and at the vineyard, is that the demon—”
“Hold on,” Austin growled, “I wish you wouldn’t call it that. It makes my skin crawl.”
“It is what it is,” Mac replied, “and it’s unsettling to think that’s what we’re going up against. But the demon can communicate telepathically. It can put thoughts inside our heads. He can try to force us to think about whatever he wants us to. I found it overwhelming … terrifying.”
“Who is what with all of this business?” Uri pointed to his helmet. “I don’t want to be thinking what something else is putting into my head.”
Mac laughed grimly. “I know, Uri, it sounds like something from the Twilight Zone, but it projected thoughts … horrible thoughts into my mind. The thing that abducted our children was vile and loathsome. It was also violent. You should have seen the way it tore at Laura. The thing’s a demon,” he stated emphatically.
“You were there, tell him,” Mac said to Laura.
Laura folded her arms in front of her and leaned forward slightly. She looked over at Uri and said softly, “Look, I’m not religious and I’m not certain what the thing was … but it was evil … horribly evil.”
Maggie didn’t move from the shelter of Mac’s arms but agreed. “It was filled with hate.”
Uri shook his head. “How are we to fight something like this?”
“Well,” Mac said, “Dr. Elisha told us that all the bullets in the world won’t stop this creature. I believe him. Prayer is the only thing that is going to have any effect against it. It’s just simply too powerful to master otherwise. “
Austin stared at MacKenzie and drew his lips together tightly. “Well, MacKenzie, that’s something I haven’t done in so long that I think I’ve forgotten how.”
Mac hesitated for an instant, then said firmly, “We could try it now.”
Austin fidgeted and Uri cleared his throat and stared down at his boots. Finally Maggie suggested, “We could try. It can’t hurt, can it?”
“I suppose not,” Austin replied. He chuckled and said, “I always thought that real men didn’t pray … now I’m not so sure. Will you do it, MacKenzie? “
They closed their eyes and Mac began to lead them in prayer.
Deep in the underground base on the level that was known as Maj 12 the man who had given General Nathan the injection sat dejectedly in a chair. Beside him stood two MPs. He wanted to reach up and grab the wire noose which was held tightly around his throat by a third MP, but didn’t dare. He had learned all too quickly that any movement brought reprisal, by way of a baton across the back of his hand. He looked at his swollen, bleeding flesh and shuddered.
The man known to him only as Abaris sat in front of him. He inhaled deeply from a cigarette, held the smoke in his lungs for a moment, then exhaled a long, thin stream of smoke into the man’s face.
Abaris was the commander of Maj 12. He was in almost constant contact with the aliens. Rumor had it that he had been underground since the early sixties. He should have been an old man, maybe eighty or so. Yet he looked deceptively younger, like a man in his early fifties. Oddly, the pigment of his skin was a strange light gray color, perhaps caused from decades of dwelling in the subterranean level. Abaris’s eyes had a yellow tint where the white should have been. His aquiline nose had been broken and was set off center beneath bristled eyebrows and a protruding forehead. On his head, thin white hair was combed straight back from a deep receding hairline.
“Well, Dr. Gleason,” Abaris began in a raspy voice, “I’m amazed that you attempted what you did. Surely you knew the risk you were taking … yes?”
Gleason remained silent.
“Nathan is a detriment to our entire project here. And do you know why?”
“No,” Gleason managed to answer.
“Because he doesn’t understand what we’re doing. He doesn’t comprehend the importance of our work here. The great benefit to mankind that will result from it.” He paused, then asked, “What about you, Doctor? Surely you’ve seen enough to understand the importance of our work?”
Gleason stared at the man. “I suppose interrogating a man with a noose around his neck is one of your more cogent examples of that.”
Abaris pounded the desk in front of him with his fist. “Doctor, you’re here because of aiding and abetting an intruder.”
Gleason stared silently at the desk in front of him, avoiding Abaris’s icy stare.
Abaris calmed himself and continued, “Dr. Gleason, Nathan s actions are reprehensible. Are you aware that he exposed classified top-secret information to two civilians?”
Gleason lifted his eyes but remained silent.
Abaris scowled and asked, “Dr. Gleason, how involved are you with General Nathan?”
Gleason fidgeted in his chair. His training had included a mock interrogation similar to this, but it had been just that, a mock interrogation. This, unfortunately, was the real thing. He felt his heart beating wildly in his chest. He remained mute mostly out of fear.
Abaris looked at him, slowly put out his cigarette, and said, “Take him to the court.”
Gleason moaned as the MPs on either side of him grabbed his arms, picked him up from the chair, and escorted him out of the room.
*
Jim Cranston thanked the ambulance driver again as the man closed the rear door. He peered in the window at Doris. “She’ll be fine,” the paramedic said reassuringly.
The elderly woman lay asleep on the gurney. An oxygen mask was over her face. Another paramedic sat beside her and monitored her heart rate and pulse.
Cranston was satisfied. He’d done his part for Maggie—now it was time to go. “Thanks, see that she gets to the hospital quickly,” he instructed.
“We’re on our way,” the driver said. He climbed behind the wheel and started the engine.
Cranston moved to the front porch and watched the ambulance turn around and head down the driveway. For a moment, he savored the stillness of the house and grounds. It was hard to imagine that just a short time ago the place had served to facilitate a highly trained military entourage.
Cranston closed and locked the front door. Then he bounded down the steps of the porch and headed to where his BMW was parked. He was glad he was leaving. Relieved that he was returning to Los Angeles, to his paper, to his work.
He’d made the call and done what he thought was the right thing. But he wanted no more of the Agency. He would be firm in distancing himself … and somehow he would find a way of dealing with the repercussions.
Cranston slipped into the front seat and started the car. He would be driving for a few hours, and he wanted to relax. He selected Bach’s Brandenburg Concertos and started the CD player. Putting the car in gear, he started down the long gravel driveway. He looked once in his rearview mirror at the silhouette of the big dark house. He was glad to be leaving.
At the end of the driveway he turned the car onto the two-lane road that led to the Pacific Coast Highway. He adjusted the temperature control, relaxing as his mind followed the musical dialogue. He had rounded a bend in the road and started into a sizable stretch of straightaway when suddenly his lights went dead, the CD stopped, the steering wheel locked up, and the engine quit.
In a panic he pressed on the emergency brake and the car came to a stop in the middle of the road.
“What the heck,” he said angrily, realizing that he was miles from anywhere and getting a tow truck this late at night would be difficult. He grabbed his cell phone and began to dial a number.
