Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

Plattsville, Missouri
Monday, November 9
7:30 p.m. Local Time

“Did you see it Marty?” Josh Herndon asked angrily. “The President threw Israel under the bus. All they’re doing is defending their nation, and this guy orders them to stop their aggressive actions and submit to the peace-keeping coalition.”
Marty Schoenberg nodded his head, but he was obviously having trouble believing what he’d heard.
Pastor Ty sat in his chair and let the conversation play out between his three remaining deacons. He tried not to let it be seen in his expression, but he was amused. The same guys who had nearly run him out of town two weeks earlier with accusations of fear mongering were now hashing out the finer points of the end time events. But, fortunately for Ty, things didn’t go the way they’d originally planned. He’d predicted the destruction of Damascus, as well as a renewed round of terrorist attacks on the United States, and those beliefs had ended up being prophetic. Now, after his vindication, they had little choice but to understand God was using him. Their acceptance of his leadership was set in stone.
“It makes no sense!” Marty retorted, “Why would Yangton abandon Israel? They need us now more than ever. I still can’t believe he actually meant they should bow to the Russians.” As a school teacher, Marty was used to dealing with situations by thinking logically.
Cal Fisher piped up. He too was beginning to see truth in terms of black and white instead of gray. “Marty, you should’ve seen the man. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He won’t stand up to the Russians, or even the Iranians for that matter. He’s afraid he’ll trigger another war. If you ask me, I’d say he’s spineless!”
“What do you think, Ty? What’s coming next?” Josh asked.
Ty reached for his soda and took a sip. It was nice having the meeting in his home. This was his comfort zone. He was also encouraged to see that his deacons were jumping onto the same page as he. Old ruler, Jack Halford, was gone, though the pain caused by his exit had pushed Ty to the limits of what he could bear. Still, having his men show such an interest in the Word of God and its relationship to current events was extremely satisfying.
“Several things actually,” Ty responded, “Though in which order they occur I can’t be sure. From Ezekiel 38:13, we know that the western world will only offer a diplomatic protest to Russia’s threat against Israel. That’s how America will respond, and it only makes sense when you analyze the direction Yangton is taking. In my opinion, the forsaking of Israel will only lead to the demise of the United States. So, look for Russia to go further than its UN mandate. They are beginning to see that our government won’t lift a finger to stop them. When they move to attack Israel, Ezekiel says God is going to get royally ticked off.”
“So, you’re saying things are going to get worse,” Josh stated.
“Honestly, I don’t know,” answered Ty. “We’re turning our back on God’s covenant blessing. As it is now, the bombings have torn the country apart. The economy is dead. People are going wild in the cities, and the government is caving in on itself. If you’ve ever had a worse-case-scenario, this is it. Still, we need to keep doing what we’re doing and be prepared to take it to another level, even if our government is going to hell in a hand basket. No matter how hard it gets for us, people are ready to hear the gospel. We’ve got to come through.”
The men nodded and were lost in thought when Marty changed the direction of the conversation. “What about you, Ty? What are your plans?” The question was point blank.
Ty looked him in the eye. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, with everything that’s happened, what do you need to do?” Marty restated his question. “You’ve been so wrapped up in this mess I’m not sure you’ve thought about your personal priorities. Listen, everything you’ve been doing shows an incredible level of love and leadership, and it’s more than commendable. But, I’m wondering if there isn’t something more.” He let the statement hang in the air.
“Just say it Marty,” Josh broke the momentary silence. He was smiling.
Ty intuitively understood what was behind Marty’s question. He was touched by the men’s genuine concern. The guys were obviously thinking he must be at his breaking point. They couldn’t see how a man could remain sane after suffering the loss of his brother, being practically defrocked by his church, witnessing a national holocaust, and tragically losing his mother, all within a span of three weeks.
“I think I know where you’re going, Marty. Blake and I had already decided to get married before mom was killed.” It was hard for him to say without his mother’s last moments being vividly replayed in his memory. Jack Halford’s bullet had missed him, only to administer a mortal wound to her.
The men could see his emotional struggle. They had enough sense to allow him to work his way through it.
“She expressed her desire with her last words. She didn’t want us to hesitate, no matter what happened with her. There’s no doubt that Blake and I are meant for each other, it’s just a question of when. We both agreed that I should talk it over with you guys as trusted friends.”
“Well,” Josh’ grin widened, “I have my opinion.”
“Before you say it, you need to hear something else.”
“What more could there be. It’s all pretty cut and dried, isn’t it?”
“No, it’s not, Josh. Not two hours ago, I received a call from Israel, from the same man who gave us the tent. His name is Ben Sherett, and as you all probably know, he is the pastor of a Messianic Jewish congregation in Haifa. The poor guy is knee deep in his own disaster.”
“Why’d he call?” Josh was puzzled.
“He claimed God spoke to him and told him to get in touch with me.” Ty rubbed his forehead as he crafted the right words to convey the bizarre. “Evidently, I’ve been on his mind lately, and it’s because of a strange connection between us. Get this. It seems that his dad was an itinerant evangelist who held crusades around the mid-west. One was right down in Kansas City. Guys, my mom and dad were present at that meeting a little more than thirty-two years ago. Ben recalled that his dad prophesied over a pregnant woman during one of those services.”
“No way!” Josh exclaimed.
Ty shook his head, still having a hard time believing it was all true. He told them the story, and then what his mother had said as she lay dying. By the end, their eyes were wide.
“Whoa!” Cal blurted.
“Anyway, Ben believes that connection meant something. As, a result, he’s invited me to visit Israel to help him minister to his people for a few weeks.”
“No way!” stated Marty, echoing Josh’s earlier sentiment, “right in the middle of a possible invasion? That’s incredible! You’d better tell me you said yes! Tell me you are going to marry Blake and make that your honeymoon.”
“No kidding, man. We don’t necessarily like losing you, even for the short term, but you’ve got to go with this,” said Josh.
“Wait, wait, wait,” interjected Cal, “The airports are still in lock down. And do you even have a passport?”
“Nope,” answered Ty.
“Then it looks pretty impossible to me.”
“Cal, you’re right, but Ben said it wouldn’t be a problem—something about the government of Israel making it happen by calling this a diplomatic matter. He said everything would be handled through the State Department. My only concern is for Faith Community Church.”
“It shouldn’t be,” Josh said firmly. “This thing will take care of itself. The people are handling the refugee workload, and we can keep up the memorial services without you. We’ve all learned how to share the gospel, and Marty here is a pretty fair public speaker. Plus, it’s going to be a long time before we get back to normal church life, if ever. So, honestly, I think we can get by without you for a few weeks. You really need to get out of here and get restored.”
Cal asked, “Have you told Blake about the call yet?”
“No, I haven’t,” Ty responded. “I wanted you guys to have the full picture and get your input.”
“Listen Ty,” chuckled Josh, “you’ve got a lot to learn about who you should be talking to first. Let me give you a hint. From now on, talk to your wife. It’ll save you skin.”
Ty smiled, “Point taken.” He was sensing a clarity that had been eluding him. “But that leads me to another little problem.”
“What’s that?” Cal asked. “I’d say if you can get to Israel without a passport, God can take care of any other problems you have.”
“Well, it’s like this,” said Ty, “The county offices are shut down until further notice, and I think that means indefinitely. In other words, we can’t get a marriage license.”
Josh looked from Marty to Cal, and then back to Ty. “Don’t see the problem.”
“I do,” Ty responded. “We don’t want to bring reproach to Christ in any way. We won’t tolerate even the appearance of immorality.”
“Let me ask you this, who married Isaac and Rebecca? Who married Jacob and Rachel? Who married...”
“Okay, okay, I get the picture,” interrupted Ty. “Are you guys okay with just a spiritual ceremony until a license can be obtained? Technically, we won’t be legal.”
“Can’t be helped,” said Josh. “As far as I’m concerned, God is the one you want to please. And you can count on us as being the spiritual witnesses. I say get married.”
“Ditto for me,” Marty agreed, and before Ty could say another word, “all in favor, say aye!”
The consensus was reached. Josh spoke for all of them. “Go, and congratulations!”
Thirty minutes later, with the meeting adjourned and his friends gone from his house, Ty realized there was still one more thing that needed to be done. A visit to the Clay County jail where Jack Halford was being housed had to happen, and soon. Forgiveness may not be easy, but it had to happen, and soon.

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Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

Plattsville, Missouri
Monday, November 9
12:00 p.m. Local

Blake took the sandwich she’d just prepared, put it on a plate, and the sliced it with a knife. Taking half for herself, she gently pushed the plate across the counter toward Ty. She could tell by the way his elbows were planted on the breakfast bar that his mind wasn’t on lunch. In fact, he’d hardly eaten since his mother had died three days earlier. Still, she refused to lay aside the exuberance she felt in her heart.
“Your mom was awesome,” she said, hoping that a casual conversation about nothing might pull him out of his funk. “She had this place stocked up with loads of essentials. I mean, there are jars of homemade jams, and the peanut butter to go with them.” He didn’t respond. “Come to think of it, I bet her cupboards explain how she stayed so thin. They’re full of canned garden produce, nuts, and Jiffy. Plenty of that! But just about everything is sugar free. She obviously didn’t eat junk food, did she?”
“No, but she loved a good peanut butter and jelly sandwich,” he finally showed signs of life.
“I think I know why.”
“Why?”
“There’s something happy about it. It’s creamy and fruity all at the same time. It just makes you feel all fuzzy when you put it in your mouth. Her attitude was like that, wasn’t it?
“Yeah, it was,” answered Ty with the trace of a smile showing up around the edges of his mouth. “I remember eating this stuff until it was coming out my ears. I always thought it was because we were kind of poor, but you’re right. She loved ‘em.”
“Me too.” She waited before taking her first bite. “Ty, I need to ask you something and now is as good a time as any. Is that okay?”
He looked her in the eye wondering what she was thinking. “Sure.”
“What are you planning on doing?”
He thought about it as he picked at his sandwich,” I don’t know. I’ve got a meeting with the board this evening. They want to try and make sense out of what’s happened, maybe get a handle on what to do next. After that, I don’t know.”
“That’s not exactly what I’m asking.”
“I don’t understand,” Ty said.
She looked at him. Humor graced her eyes. “I’m talking about us. What are you planning on doing about us? I know you’ve got to work your way through some things, and I can’t imagine what it must be like to have lost your mom, but I heard her last words too.”
“You heard her talk about the rapture stuff, did you?”
“I heard it. But, I was thinking of something else.” She could still hear the words Martha Dempsey had spoken as she lay on the ground dying. “You marry this girl!” had been her final, motherly command.
He reached across the counter and touched her hand. “Honestly, it’s been on my mind since she said it. I just don’t know about the timing,” he said with sincerity.
“Want my opinion?”
“Of course.”
“Okay, here’s the blunt version. I think what your mom said about Jesus coming back should be taken seriously. It looks to me like there isn’t much time left before it happens. With that said, I haven’t waited for the right guy to come around for all these years just to have the rapture keep me from marrying him. Know what I mean? My guess is your mom understood the sentiment and was basically telling you to get with the program, no matter what happened to her.”
“Wow, you are blunt, aren’t you?”
“Yup. I calls ‘em like I see’s ‘em,” she teased. She also noticed he’d taken a bite of sandwich. That was good.
Ty took his time before responding to her original question. In fact, he’d worked his way through the first half of the sandwich before he spoke. Now that he was eating, he realized he was hungry.
Blake waited patiently, but couldn’t help being swallowed up in her man’s quiet sorrow.
He finally spoke. “It’s sure weird how things get all tangled up. A week ago, I could hardly wait to pop the question to you, remember? Then everything went haywire. Suddenly, I don’t know what to do. Does that make sense?”
“Sure. Everything’s been out of whack for me too, starting with the day you first called to ask me out. For what it’s worth, I’m really glad you did.”
“I’m glad too, and I have no doubt what the next step is. I just don’t know when to jump. It’s still hard to believe that mom is gone, especially knowing how much she wanted me to find the right girl.” he explained. “Now, she won’t see how it all turns out. I’m having a hard time with that.”
“I know you are. Me too. Part of me says we should wait so that all this grief can be processed. But the other part says that there’s too much of it to work through. Waiting until the hurt is healed might take forever. My heart tells me that getting married will only help.”
Ty got up and walked to the glass doors that opened to his mother’s garden. She’d cleared most of it before the nuclear holocaust had happened, but there were still a few fall-blooming flowers highlighting the edges. A wisp of wind carried dried leaves across the yard, and the sight of a dying autumn only added to his melancholy. But standing there, between the pain of remembrance and the brightness of a new future, his mind began to clear.
Turning to Blake he stuffed his hands in his pockets and leaned against the door. “I don’t want to sound super-spiritual, but I think we should pray about it. Let’s see what the Lord says. One thing is for sure, I love you, and unless Jesus comes back real soon, you’ll be Mrs. Tyler Dempsey, agreed?”
“Agreed!”
Blake had no doubt her man really wanted to do the right thing at the right time. He would wait for the Lord to give him the go ahead, and that was a good thing. But the ache in her heart was casting a vote for more speed, and that ache wasn’t due to grief.

Jerusalem
Same Time Local

Dr. Lira nodded in the direction of Zev Tolberg, who stood and dimmed the lights. A white screen lowered in front of the window, and a video projector came to life above their heads. The room was quickly converted into a classroom.
“Gentlemen,” she began, “this is our objective.”
The screen was filled with an artist’s rendering of the Ark of the Covenant, situated in the Most Holy Place of Solomon’s Temple. The design was simple, yet beautiful. The box, inlayed with gold inside and out, glowed. Two angelic beings stood on opposite ends above the cover with heads bowed and wings outstretched. Their wingtips touched in the center. The space between them formed the ancient Seat of Mercy. Solomon described it as the place of God’s glorious presence on earth, and so it was. Ben was well familiar with all of it.
“Our mission is simple. We will recover this object from its hiding place and return it to Jerusalem.”
The image changed to reveal a satellite-generated photo of a compound. Three structures dominated the scene.
“Say hello to Aksum, Ethiopia. Located in the Horn of Africa approximately one hundred kilometers south of the border of Eritrea, it is the home of the three structures you are observing.” She continued. “The larger building is the Church of Saint Mary of Sion, an Orthodox Christian community that makes up the prominent religious group in this region of northern Ethiopia. The rectangular edifice nearby, about a hundred meters to the south, is the ancient church of the same name. You will notice a small, perfectly square building between the two. This little structure will be the focus of our mission. It is the Chapel of the Ark of the Covenant.”
Gilad Belfer, a tightly built man with short black hair, sharp facial features, and penetrating eyes broke in. “We’ve been led to believe the rumors of the Ark being under the Church of Saint Mary were only a myth created by fundamentalist Christians.”
“Welcome to the world of disinformation, Gilad. Our own government has disavowed the rumor since the time of our inception as the State of Israel. Instead, reports that the Ark rests beneath the ruins of the Temple Mount have been given a hint of credence, and it has happened for a purpose. Because of the ongoing conflict with Islam, our leaders have conspired to keep the eyes of our enemies, and those of the world, locked upon Jerusalem as being the Ark’s location. Discounting Aksum as the actual site has left it relatively forgotten and unmolested.”
“That makes sense,” nodded Gilad.
“However, we have a problem,” continued Dr. Lira. “It seems the Russians are attempting to cover every possible lead. They’ve enlisted the help of their allies in the Sudan. As we speak, elements of the Sudanese armed forces are pushing into Eritrea and are slowly moving toward the capitol city, Asmara. Once that has been achieved, they will have a straight shot down the interior highway to Aksum. Now, we believe the Eritreans will be able to hold off the intruders long enough for us to order our operation, but we have a window of only about three weeks to get ready and get the job done. Timing will be critical.”
“Why us?” asked Ben. “Why exactly are we here? Honestly, I’m just an average guy doing my best to do some good in Haifa. I don’t know about these men, but outside of Zev, Ari, and Gilad here, none of us seem like the ideal people for this job. What gives?”
Dr. Lira smiled at Ben’s candidness. It was the reaction she had been expecting from the transplanted American Jew. “The answer to your question, Ben, will take us in several directions, but it is time you know. This group was chosen on the basis of three pertinent facts. First, you are all Messianic…each of you believe Yeshua is the Messiah of Israel. Second, you can all trace your heritage to the tribe of Levi. That would have made you members of the functioning priesthood in ancient Israel. You are Christian priests! Third, you have all been proven in combat during your time in the Israeli Defense Forces. With a short period of intensive training, you will return to combat readiness. Those three elements make you exactly the men we need.”
“How do these elements relate?” Ben questioned.
“It’s really quite simple when you think about it, and it has to do with appearances. We are going on a mission to recover the Ark of the Covenant. God gave Moses a mandate that only Levites were to be the caretakers and transporters of the Ark. Twelve priests were to carry it by way of two, gold-covered poles. The twelve of you will make up that number.” She let that sink in for a few seconds. “We will maintain the integrity of the Torah by following that command, and we will avoid being a stumbling block to the Jews, all at the same time. But there is an added element, and it has to do with our being followers of Yeshua. We know from the writings of the Apostle Paul that we are freed from the letter of the Law. That freedom is by virtue of the atoning sacrifice of Messiah. Therefore, the old statutes of not touching the Ark upon pain of death will not apply. We will be able to do whatever it takes to get the Ark back to Israel, even if it means hoisting it on our backs and carrying it.”
Ari Goins spoke up next. “Dr. Lira, tell them why it is absolutely essential that the Ark return to Jerusalem as soon as possible. I think it will help them understand the bigger picture.”
“Ari’s right. I believe, as do most of you, that Ezekiel’s prophecies are about to reach their fulfillment. The alignment of nations is complete. Forces are on the move toward the borders of Israel, just as it was prophesied. But that’s not all. In my studies, I have found two verses that stand out as an indication of what is actually going to happen.
“The first is the twenty-third verse of chapter thirty-eight. It says; ‘And so I will show my greatness and my holiness, and I will make myself known in the sight of many nations.’ In other words, God is going to reveal his glory. I believe the Ark of the Covenant must be the centerpiece of that issuance.”
Ben knew the verses well and simply had to challenge Dr. Lira’s interpretation. “Hannah, there is no mention of God’s glory in that verse. What makes you believe the Ark must be present?”
“If I were to go by that verse alone, I couldn’t make that leap. However, verse twenty-one of the next chapter goes further. As happens throughout scripture, the next chapter expounds upon the previous prophetic utterance by adding detail. Listen to the verse; ‘I will display my glory among the nations, and all the nations will see the punishment I inflict and the hand I lay upon them. From that day forward the house of Israel will know that I am the Lord their God.’ The term glory is only used in reference to the most intimate expression of God’s presence. The manifestation of the glory took place between the Cherubim on the Ark of the Covenant. This is how he revealed himself to Israel.”
“That, I’ll give you. But why does that presuppose the Ark is still the wellspring of God’s glory?” asked Ben. “In fact, Yeshua fulfills all the aspect of God’s revealed glory on the earth.”
“You are right. Yeshua is the revelation of the glory of God. But even in the Book of the Revelation of Jesus Christ we see the Messiah standing beside the shekinah glory in heaven. John described it in an incredible way. That plays right into what I believe is about to take place.”
“What do you mean?”
“Everything about Ezekiel’s words focus on a great cataclysmic demonstration made by God against his enemies,” she continued. “It will happen in a moment, and the whole world will see it. Not only that, they will know that it is God’s doing. I believe it will be a startlingly visible manifestation that will proceed from the restored symbol of his presence. I don’t know what it will be, but for it to take place, the Ark must be resting on its ancient platform. A monumental effort on our part will be required, but once the Ark is placed on the Temple Mount, it is entirely possible that something spectacular will occur.” She let the words sink deep before she continued.
Questioning glances were exchanged between the men, but something about Dr. Lira’s words resonated as prophetic. Still, Ben could not help himself. “How can we stake so much on such slim Biblical evidence? I agree with you that something cataclysmic is going to happen because it is prophesied. But this could all just be a wild goose chase.”
“Ben, it’s a risk. That is certain. If none of this is true, we’ll literally be scattering our lives to the winds. But there is more to it than just returning the Ark to Jerusalem.”
“Like what?”
“Israel is alone. No one is coming to our rescue this time. People need to refocus on God, and since they haven’t found a way to do that, a symbol like the Ark might just cause them to turn and begin to seek him again. That is the spiritual awakening I am praying for,” her voice cracked with emotion. The men could see her true passion shinning beyond the trappings of the mission. “We know by the scriptures that many Jews will not turn to Yeshua until after a great deception has occurred. But we must do all we can to help draw them to the Lord before that happens. In the meantime, the rebuilding of the Temple will not be possible until the Ark of the Covenant is returned. So, either way, we must complete this mission.”
There was silence in response to what she’d spoken. Even for Ben, the questions were suddenly moot. Israel needed help, even if it was something as bizarre as returning the most holy of ancient artifacts to its proper place.
After a few moments Dr. Lira continued. All signs of deep emotion were gone from her voice. “Here is our plan of action. Tonight, you will be housed here on the campus. Tomorrow, you will be returned to your homes, and each of you will have three days to get your interests in order. You already know this will be a dangerous endeavor, so you need to make sure your families are provided for in case something should happen to you. If you need any particular help in getting this done, let me know. There is a very small element of the government that knows what we are doing. They are committed to assist you in every way possible. On Thursday, no later than noon, we’ll meet back here. From that point on, be prepared to work and work hard.”
She paused and crossed her arms. “I can imagine how the original words of Ezekiel were taken when he talked about dry bones and mountains blowing their tops. The vision seems fiction-esque, but I believe it with every fiber of my being. We are approaching the day for which we have longed since we came into relationship with Yeshua. The peril of Israel is as high as it can possibly be, but so are the prospects of victory.” She paused. “Let me be honest. If our mission is discovered, you can be assured that our enemies will react with violence to stop us. We must be prepared to fight our way to the finish line.”
There it was—no hedging, no innuendos, and no speculation. Twelve messianic Levites and one woman were on a life—or—death mission that could possibly bring back the King.
The meeting was adjourned with prayer for guidance and help.
At precisely the same moment, a call was placed by the distant watcher to the secure line of an apartment in Paris

Jerusalem
One hour later

As the only pastor in the group, Ben faced a dilemma. The congregation of Celebration Center desperately needed a substitute, someone who could step in and take his place. He was having difficulty balancing the church’s needs with Dr. Lira’s suggestion that the mission could quite possibly claim his life. What if he didn’t come back? Due to the destruction in Haifa his energies were needed now more than at any other time since the group was started. A true harvest was being reaped. People were turning to Yeshua in the wake of the nuclear attack. And then there was Ingrid? She might be able to carry on the work of the church in his absence temporarily, but not if she had to cope with his death. The realities of his commitment to the mission suddenly became clear.
As the internal debate raged, the image of a particular face encroached upon his thoughts. The image was of the American pastor, Ty Dempsey. He was bent over his dying mother listening to words that bound the two pastors together in a most unusual way. Unable to shake the picture from his mind, Ben got the distinct impression that the answer to his problem was right in front of him. But how could it be? The idea seemed impossible. Kansas City had been attacked by a nuclear-laden terrorist too, and Dempsey was knee deep in his own difficulties. Why would he come to Israel? How would he come to Israel? International travel was practically at a standstill.
That’s just crazy! Ben thought to himself, but it gnawed at him until he decided to test the Lord. Dr. Lira had offered to assist the team members in their preparations. He’d use Dempsey as a fleece. If Lira could find a way to get this one man shipped to Israel, when both America and Israel were basically shut down, then Ben would know everything that was happening was part of God’s plan. With that in mind, he left the dorm and made his way back to the front porch of Dr. Lira’s home.
The door was opened by Zev Tolberg and Ben stepped back into the now empty living room of the archaeologist. She was sitting on the sofa sipping a hot cup of tea when he entered. She started to stand.
“Please, Dr. Lira, don’t get up,” he said before she could set her cup on the table. “I won’t take much of your time, but I have a little problem. I need your help.”
“Let me guess, Ben,” she smiled, “you’re worried about your church, aren’t you?”
He knew she was sharp, but man, it was like she could read his mail. “Yes ma’am, I am. I’m on board fully with this operation. However, my congregation is in a precarious position, and I need help in getting the right person in place to take the reigns of the ministry, at least temporarily.”
She smiled, “I’ll ask you again. Call me Hannah, okay? If you don’t, I’ll start calling you Reverend.”
Ben laughed. He could see she wasn’t rebuking him, but wanted to establish a genuine camaraderie. “Deal!”
“Good! Now, I bet you have a plan.”
“I do. I have a gut feeling, maybe a nudge in my spirit. I think the Lord wants me to send for a young pastor from the United States. He doesn’t know it yet, but we are spiritually connected.”
Ben took the next few minutes to share a story that tied him and the young American pastor together. “My father was what we called an old fashioned revivalist. He even had the tent to go with it,” Ben chuckled at the memory. “Anyway, we were holding a revival in Kansas City when, one hot summer night, something strange happened.” He paused, trying to find a way to shorten the narrative.
“What happened?” Hannah wanted to hear.
“A couple was in attendance. The woman was pregnant, which meant nothing to me at the time; I was only ten years old. But the Spirit of God came over my dad right in the middle of his message. He went straight to them and began to give a word of prophecy.”
“What did he say?” She was aware of the Biblical teaching concerning the Gifts of the Spirit.
“He spoke first to the father, who didn’t seem to listen. But then he spoke to the mother and said something about her child being appointed for the salvation of many people. He told her the child would see the return of Jesus with his own eyes. He would be alive at the moment of the Rapture. That really got my attention,” Ben said as he stood and turned toward an artifact cabinet as if he needed to formulate his thoughts. He was trying to replay the image of Ty Dempsey cradling his mother’s head, all of being broadcast internationally by satellite. “I’d forgotten all of that until I heard her repeat those very words on international television not three days ago.” He turned back to Hannah. “Ty and I have been connected since that moment. And now I’m convinced God wants our paths to converge again.”
Hannah listened intently, quite moved by what he’d related. When he finished, he noticed tears in her eyes. No words passed between them for several moments.
“Hannah, I guess I’m asking for some of that help you were talking about. With the attacks on American cities, things are pretty chaotic over there. In fact, it appears things are going from bad to worse. It will take some leverage from highly placed, influential people to get the man here.”
“Are you in a position to contact him?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Then do it right away. See if he is open to the idea. If so, we’ll get him to Israel by any means possible. But I have to tell you, it may be impossible to insure his arrival before you have to report for training. Are you comfortable with the man stepping into your ministry without having actually met him?”
“Hannah, in my way of thinking, only the Lord has to be comfortable. I can’t get around the fact that Ty Dempsey is God’s choice,” Ben answered thoughtfully.
“Okay then, let’s do it!” She stood to walk Ben to the door. She handed him her business card. “Take this and call me when you’ve talked him. That way, you won’t have to make another trip down the hill, deal?”
“Thanks. I’ll get back with you as soon as I have an answer.”

Jimmy Root Jr
Author: DISTANT THUNDER and the AWARD WINNING MAGOG RISING
Books One and Two of the Lightning Chronicles
$15 per Copy...SIGNED!
Buy several for the same shipping rate as ONE! Give them as gifts.
OR
Send a check to Jimmy Root Jr PO Box 112, Smithville, MO 64089
(add $5.00 for shipping)
MAGOG RISING
is the READERS FAVORITE 2010 National Writing Competition SILVER MEDALIST in the Christian Fiction Genre
ORDER NOW
Visit:
http://www.lightningchronicles.com/
Toll Free at 1866 909-2665
Or use the above address to send a check for $18.00 (includes shipping) and ask for Magog Rising...or get both books....SIGNED!
Distant Thunder, Gog and Magog, Israel, Iran, Radical Islam, Ezekiel 38 and 39, Jimmy Root Jr, Rapture, Nuclear Weapons, Bible Prophecy, Russia, European Union, Lightning Chronicles, Terrorism, Ahmadinijad,

Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

Jerusalem
Monday, November 9
7:00 p.m., Local Time

Rivulets of water merged and streamed across the windshield of the black sedan as it powered its way up the steep slope of Mount Zion. Hatyvat Yerushalaym, the main highway from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem, was still wet from an evening rain. The pavement cast a sharp glare with the headlights of every oncoming vehicle. A three hour journey from Haifa to the foot of the Temple Mount was finally coming to an end, and that was just fine with the fatigued passenger in the back seat.
The summons had come earlier that morning, much sooner than Benjamin Sherett had expected. In fact, the call had interrupted an intense discussion between him and his wife. His participation in the secret operation tasked with recovering the Ark of the Covenant had weighted Ingrid’s heart with deep concern. Her questions had merit. Was it really the authentic, historic Ark they were going after? Were these people legitimate? And, who in God’s creation was Hannah Lira? Each unknown had bothered Ingrid during the night hours. By daybreak her anxiety was nearing a state of panic.
Ben had done all he could to allay her fears, but the task bordered on the impossible. He was the American-born maverick. She was the cautious product of a persecuted family of Polish immigrants. Their personalities were completely different, but those same idiosyncrasies had helped form a healthy marriage. Through the years he’d learned to temper his impulsive nature by listening to her intuitive concerns, and the results were beyond question. Her caution had saved his kosher bacon many times. He’d rubbed off on her too, making her moments of panic surface less and less often.
However, from the time the opportunity to join the ARC team had presented itself three days earlier Ben could not control his impulsive to be a part of something big. He was convinced he couldn’t pass up this opportunity, especially after the port of Haifa had been devastated by a terrorist-launched nuclear missile. It would have been easy to stay put, assisting the suffering and homeless in the aftermath. But Ben had felt a familiar inner tug that urged him to get involved. From his long experience, he’d come to recognize that nudge as coming from the Holy Spirit. He fully believed Ingrid would feel it too, eventually. It would simply take little time and plenty of patience, but he was certain she would work it out.
Ben recalled the summons from Jerusalem. It was brief and abrupt. The voice on the phone had seemed cold and hard. “Mr. Sherett, the two gentlemen you recently met will come for you at mid-afternoon. They will accompany you to Jerusalem University. You will be staying overnight, so prepare accordingly.” Click! That was it.
Ben had quickly converted into action mode, but little time had been given for Ingrid to catch her breath, let alone process what was happening.
“Why did you agree to this?” she’d pleaded. “Why didn’t you wait until we could talk it through? I don’t understand why you always jump without thinking.”
“Sweetheart, to find out what those guys wanted to tell me, I had to agree to their terms. Once they mentioned the Ark and my Levite heritage, my heart said this was right. I’m sorry, but this really seems like a God-thing,” Ben reasoned.
“I cannot argue with God, but I can sure challenge whether or not you’ve heard from him,” she stated.
There was no point in speaking. It broke his heart to see tears welling in her eyes. After all, she was right. He held her in his arms, stroked her long hair, and tried to soothe her deeply rooted fear. Because of her heritage of persecution and separation, the thought of being left alone in the world terrorized her beyond her ability to cope. When she finally relaxed he whispered a prayer. He asked for wisdom. He asked for help. He asked God to allow her the clarity to hear his voice. That was the only way she would break through to any semblance of peace.
Now, as the car pulled off the highway onto a narrow tree-lined street, Ben realized his own moment of enlightenment was approaching.
The driver, a very big man that had revealed his name as Ari Goins, took a series of switchback curves that led around the rigid rock walls of Jerusalem University. Another turn brought them onto a narrow lane that cut through an Olive grove. They pulled to a stop in front of a small bungalow tucked beneath the western slope. The only light, a single flood lamp highlighting the old Greek Seminary one hundred feet up the hillside, glowed through a hazy mist.
Ben noticed a small, delicate woman approaching the vehicle. Her long dark hair was swept into a ponytail, and her face seemed to glow beyond the dim light. She was dressed casually in blue jeans and over sized sweater, but her eyes caught enough light to reflect a depth of wisdom that belied her youthful appearance. Ben noticed she was flanked by the man he recognized as his driver’s sidekick, Zev Tolberg.
As Ben got out of the car, she offered a warm smile. “Pastor Sherett, welcome to my home. My name is Hannah Lira.” She extended her hand upward. He seemed to tower over her and was surprised by the firmness of her grip. Though little above five feet in height, this small woman exuded an abundance of confidence.
“Ma’am, please call me Ben,” he said as she directed him toward the house and a large wood-paneled door.
“Thank you, I will if you’ll refrain from calling me ma’am,” her bright smile seemed to counter the darkness. Joy flowed from her as naturally as water sprang from a well.
Ben was led through a narrow hallway and into a modest living room. One entire wall consisted of nothing but floor to ceiling panes of glass. The panorama of the western reaches of Jerusalem was breathtaking, the King David hotel in the distance being the first landmark to catch his eye.
Seated in a half circle around the room were nine other men. Ben could feel the eyes of each sizing him up, estimating his importance or lack thereof. But he was quickly distracted by objects around the periphery of the room. Various collections of pottery, crude tools, and bits of stone tablets were on display. Each piece carried a particular tag describing its date of discovery, location, and culture of origin. The more valuable works sat in softly lighted glass cabinets. Any doubt about Hannah Lira’s legitimacy was answered.
“Gentlemen, may I present Pastor Benjamin Sherett from Haifa,” Dr. Lira touched Ben lightly on the shoulder as she spoke. She then introduced every man in turn. Each offered a curt greeting or a nod. Ben noticed how they were as commonplace in appearance and bearing as he. Anyone of them could pass for his brother. Dark hair, brown eyes, nearly matched in height and muscular build, they already looked like a team. Only Ari Goins stood out from the crowd because of his height body builder’s form.
Hannah motioned Ben toward a seat then stepped in front of the immense window and crossed her arms. There was no doubt about who was in command.
“I am certain I do not need to emphasize the desperate nature of our times. The Bible describes them as perilous. Some of us have anticipated the arrival of these days, even as the world wallows in spiritual ignorance.” Her words cut through the air like a knife. “Others of you are relatively new to the ways of Messiah, but your heart has been drawn to this moment as if you were born for it. The truth is we were all created for this day.”
Ben couldn’t help but gaze out over the Jerusalem hills and wonder what part he had to play in the end of the world. The thought made him feel small.
“What I am about to tell you must not leave this room,” she warned. Her words reinforced each man’s original agreement with Goins and Tolberg, basically stating that personal participation must include a one hundred percent commitment. Confidentiality was a life or death issue.
“Approximately nine hundred and fifty years before the birth of our Messiah, Makeda Queen of Sheba made a journey from the horn of Africa. Her destination was Jerusalem. She wanted to experience firsthand the glory of Solomon. Upon her arrival, electricity flew between the two monarchs. She was mesmerized by the aptitude of Solomon’s mind. His splendor captivated her. He, in turn, succumbed to her beauty and quick wit. Her mind was nearly equal to his, and though he was already well into an unparalleled collection of wives and concubines, from that point onward she was the greatest object of his affection. He quickly developed a love for her that surpassed that of all his wives. Their love affair lasted for nearly twenty years.
“From that union sprang her only son, later to become the first monarch of the land of Ethiopia. His name was Menelik. Ethiopian scribes wrote that Menelik bore the likeness of his father and that Solomon’s vast wisdom shined also in him. But more striking are the writings that describe the young man’s great love for Jehovah, and especially for the Ark of the Covenant.”
Dr. Lira paused to turned and study the panorama of Jerusalem before continuing. “Sadly, Menelik witnessed the spiritual fall of his father. Solomon had not only amassed a politically expedient harem, the many unions opened the floodgates of idol worship in Israel. Slowly, through the appeasing of the pagan appetites of his wives, images to heathen gods sprang up on every hillside, every valley, and finally within the courts of the Sacred Temple. Solomon’s heart was pulled away from the one true God.”
Lira again turned to face the group and sighed. “There is no known inscription or writing in Israel that relates what happened next. However, Menelik had the account etched onto a Sheban obelisk. Taking both the written and oral traditions into account, we’ve been able to fill in the blanks. We believe we have the true story of the Queen of Sheba and her son.
“Some twenty years after falling in love with Solomon, Markeda fell ill, never to recover. After her death, Solomon knew his son, as the only heir to the Ethiopian throne should return to his own people. But Solomon also knew the depth of love that Menelik carried for the Ark and the Presence of Jehovah. So, the King ordered the crafting of an exact replica of the Ark. If Menelik could not worship the Lord in the true Temple, at least he would have the symbol of Israel’s greatest artifact to pray to.
“However, that very concept sickened Menelik. His fidelity to God was far greater than his father’s. He saw Solomon’s act as just one more in a long series of compromises to the worship of idols.”
Ben could not remember being so drawn into a story. The words so transfixed him that he felt as if he could see the drama unfolding on a stage.
Hannah continued. “Not only had Menelik been given a wise spirit, God also provided the best ally possible; the High Priest, Elihaayim. A quiet figure during his tenure as the nation’s intercessor, Elihaayim discerned that Israel was quickly moving toward divine judgment. After spending years convincing the young Menelik of impending doom, the two devised a plan to deceive the king and save the most precious object in Israel.
“During the night, just before Menelik was to begin his journey to Ethiopia, Elihaayim took a select group of Levites into the Most Holy Place and removed the Ark. The replica was put in its place. Oddly, Solomon never knew that the Glory of God had departed the Temple. Never again was the Ark of the Covenant seen in Israel nor was it again referenced by name,” her voice was nearly a whisper. “Yet even in Ethiopia, Menelik understood the Ark’s true home was not with him. So, he inscribed on the obelisk a personal vow. He would find a way to someday return the Ark to a repentant Israel. The conspiracy remained hidden until the recent discover of the obelisk.”
Ben’s brow furrowed. He knew enough Bible history to know that Jeremiah had made a direct reference to the Ark of the Covenant. So did the writer of the Chronicles. Both were well after the days of Solomon. Dr. Lira felt the question stirring before he could ask it. A knowing smile formed on her face.
“I know what you’re thinking Ben.” She took a Bible from a nearby shelf, opened it to the Book of Jeremiah. “First, you will notice that Jeremiah is speaking the word of the Lord concerning the distant future, far down the road of time. The reference specifically states that the Ark of the Covenant would not enter their minds. They wouldn’t have to remember it as a past possession, and it would no longer be missed by them. Why? Because, in the time referenced by Jeremiah, the true Ark would again be where it belongs. No one would think of it as being absent.”
“Second, we have to look at Chronicles. Did you notice that those verses do not say ‘Ark of the Covenant,’ but simply ‘the Ark.’ It’s as if the Lord were speaking of an ordinary object rather than the ancient Seat of Mercy. I believe it was referenced as ‘the Ark’ because it was nothing more than a copy of the genuine article. In the end, the replica was carted off to Babylon by Nebuchadnezzar.” She paused again, and then bluntly asked, “You really don’t think the Lord would allow the true Ark of the Covenant to fall into the hands of a heathen king, do you?”
Ben could not respond verbally, but his jaw dropped. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. God had preserved the Ark of the Covenant of Israel by spiriting it away in the hands of a true and faithful worshipper.
“Hopefully, you now see our national plight through the lens of a new hope. Israel is on the cusp of two, life-altering events, and they go hand in hand. One is the threat of annihilation that screams in Biblical proportions. The other is the recovery of the only object that can unify the nation and provide any glimpse of hope. With the return of the Ark of the Covenant all Jews will yearn for a rebuilt Temple. With that hope, Israel will bind together like never before. In fact, there will be a tremendous spiritual awakening that is desperately needed. You, my new friends, are going to make that happen.”
As the group struggled to grasp the implications of her words, none were aware that the meeting and the faces of its participants were focused in the camera lens of a hidden watcher.

Jimmy Root Jr
Author: DISTANT THUNDER and the AWARD WINNING MAGOG RISING
Books One and Two of the Lightning Chronicles
$15 per Copy...SIGNED!
Buy several for the same shipping rate as ONE! Give them as gifts.
OR
Send a check to Jimmy Root Jr PO Box 112, Smithville, MO 64089
(add $5.00 for shipping)
MAGOG RISING
is the READERS FAVORITE 2010 National Writing Competition SILVER MEDALIST in the Christian Fiction Genre
ORDER NOW
Visit:
http://www.lightningchronicles.com/
Toll Free at 1866 909-2665
Or use the above address to send a check for $18.00 (includes shipping) and ask for Magog Rising...or get both books....SIGNED!
Distant Thunder, Gog and Magog, Israel, Iran, Radical Islam, Ezekiel 38 and 39, Jimmy Root Jr, Rapture, Nuclear Weapons, Bible Prophecy, Russia, European Union, Lightning Chronicles, Terrorism, Ahmadinijad,

Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

Israeli/Lebanese Border
Sunday, 10:30 p.m., Local Time

“You could’ve dropped that thing a bit further to the north, Frisbee,” Captain Moshe Eldan, call sign Dagger, radioed his wingman over the ship-to-ship intercom.
“What? I just converted that hill into a nice, level rock quarry. It was a perfect drop,” Rueben laughed.
Both F-16I Lightnings climbed vertically towards the stratosphere then rolled sharply southward to lessen the profile of their flaming engines. A mixture of aluminum chaff and hot flares were ejected from their jets as they exited harms way.
“Roger! Maybe the Russians will talk nicely since we just eliminated another one of their headaches.”
“Don’t count on it, boss. They’re still bitter about that squadron of Sukois you sent for a swim in the Mediterranean,” Reuben replied.
Moshe glanced at the ‘birds-eye-view” HSD, or Horizontal Situation Display, just in front of his left knee. Multiple blips, encompassing a range of two hundred miles north of the Lebanese border, dotted the screen. The onboard computer designated the targets as rotary aircraft in the form of Hind attack helicopters. There were also dozens of support fixed-wing fighters, but they posed no threat at the moment. However, two blips, identified as MiG-29 Fulcrums, were turning in his direction from about one hundred miles out.
“Check your HSD, Frisbee. Bogeys are heading our way. They must have been flying in ground clutter.”
“I copy your bogeys. What’s our profile?” Reuben asked. He remembered the last time he tackled a Fulcrum and wanted to make sure his leader had a game plan.
“Stay cool. Let’s come back around and skirt the border at their altitude. I want to see what they’re thinking,” Moshe ordered.
The tension in the air was palpable across the entire Middle East. Over Israel alone, fourteen F-16s were patrolling the skies. Jordan had numerous aircraft in the air, as did Egypt far to the southwest. It was a powder keg ready to ignite. But tension was the farthest thing from the cockpit of Moshe Eldan’s Lightning. If anything, Moshe was experiencing an overwhelming joy that made him want to laugh, even while performing air-to-ground attacks.
He recalled the reunion with his wife Tasha two days earlier. The mission to Libya had been a trap, and he’d barely escaped with his life. Rather than surprise the Russians and their vaunted Sukhoi-37 attack aircraft on the ground, an aerial dogfight had ensued over the Mediterranean Sea. He’d come a hairs breadth away from being flamed into the afterlife. But he’d proven the capabilities of the F-16 in combat, as well has a set of flying skills unmatched by any other Israeli pilot in history. He’d survived, but though his survival was a relief to everyone, it was what transpired just moments before the violent engagement that ended up rocking his wife’s world. He’d come face-to-face with the truth of Israel’s Messiah, right there in the cockpit. That had been the biggest battle of his life, one that ended with his spiritual surrender.
After climbing out of his Lightning that evening, he’d made his way to headquarters knowing Tasha would be waiting. The second he entered the door, she jumped into his arms.
“Babe,” he’d whispered in her ear, “let’s go into the lounge for a second. I want to tell you something before I report to the debriefing.”
She lifted her head from his neck and looked hard into his eyes, trying to perceive what he might have to say. He said nothing and just smiled.
He led her down the hall to the base lounge and sat beside her. “What is it?” she asked as he took her hand into his own.
“It was amazing!” he said.
“What? Tell me!” The look on her face was pleading for him to quit stalling. She didn’t know whether to be afraid or curious.
“Sweetheart, your prayers worked their magic.”
It took a second for the statement to sink in, but when it did, her mouth flew open. Her eyes went wide with hope. Ever since she’d stepped into a relationship with Yeshua, the true Messiah of Israel and Son of God, she’d prayed that her husband would experience the same.
Moshe continued. “Listen, after we attacked the airbase at Benghazi and turned back toward home, I had some time to think about the prophecies that you and the guys have been pushing at me, not only about what’s happening around us, but about Yeshua. They all line up too perfectly. Suddenly, the truth became very clear.”
Moshe paused. He wanted her to know exactly how it had happened. “As I thought about it I realized you were right. I was the one with the narrow mind. I was blind, at least until I realized I had no guarantee of living another day. These last two weeks, I’ve been way to close to the edge. I had to ask myself what would have happened if my life had been snuffed out by that missile over the Golan Heights. And then I suddenly knew the answer, and it wasn’t good.
“I sat in that cockpit and decided I’d been selfish. O sure, you were always the biggest part of my life, but I was in charge. I was the boss, and a poor one at that. So, I gave in and told Yeshua I was ready to pledge my life to him. I believe he is the Son of God, that he died for my sins, and that he rose from the dead. That’s when it happened.”
“What?” she asked. Her heart was beating like thunder. Even Moshe could feel it pulsate through her hand.
“I felt him, right there in the cockpit. I felt a huge weight lift off my shoulders. It was the strangest thing. I actually shouted!” he grinned. He felt the same joy again in the telling.
In that moment, Tasha’s response was quick and to the point. She kissed him with more love than ever. Their spiritual lives were suddenly on the same plane.
Now, two days after his announcement he could smile, even as a pair of deadly MiG 29s took a parallel course less than a mile to his north. Fear was no longer a factor. Moshe knew he was seeing the scriptures fulfilling themselves before his eyes, and he was a living participant in God’s prophetic plans. With that knowledge, he could stare the enemy in the face. However, this wasn’t the moment to start a war. Seeing no hostile moves by the Russians, he and Rueben turned their Lightnings toward the south and away from the Lebanese border.

Jimmy Root Jr
Author: DISTANT THUNDER and the AWARD WINNING MAGOG RISING
Books One and Two of the Lightning Chronicles
$15 per Copy...SIGNED!
Buy several for the same shipping rate as ONE! Give them as gifts.
OR
Send a check to Jimmy Root Jr PO Box 112, Smithville, MO 64089
(add $5.00 for shipping)
MAGOG RISING
is the READERS FAVORITE 2010 National Writing Competition SILVER MEDALIST in the Christian Fiction Genre
ORDER NOW
Visit:
http://www.lightningchronicles.com/
Toll Free at 1866 909-2665
Or use the above address to send a check for $18.00 (includes shipping) and ask for Magog Rising...or get both books....SIGNED!
Distant Thunder, Gog and Magog, Israel, Iran, Radical Islam, Ezekiel 38 and 39, Jimmy Root Jr, Rapture, Nuclear Weapons, Bible Prophecy, Russia, European Union, Lightning Chronicles, Terrorism, Ahmadinijad,

Then Comes Lightning Prologue & Chapter One

For those of you who have read the first two books of the Lightning Chronicles and are awaiting the third in print form, well, here it is in this blog. "Then Comes Lightning" awaits publishing. In the meantime, I want you to have the opportunity to read, enjoy, and see the series concluded with a BANG! A new chapter will appear every few days. Please let me know what you think by clicking on the "comment" line.

THEN COMES LIGHTNING
Book Three
The Lightning Chronicles
By
Jimmy Root Jr.


Prologue
568 B.C.

Tel Abib, Babylon

Ezekiel struggled to steady himself, but his strength was spent. Never had a trance been this extreme, actually dropping him to the hard, rock surface of the well cover. He sought any grip that might keep him from falling in embarrassment.
Suddenly, Ezekiel felt the firm hands of a helper slide under his arms, and the unknown man steadied him immediately.
“Father, would it not be better to breathe? Why do you look at me as if I was a phantom? I am of the same flesh and blood as you. Now breathe!” The newcomer’s words were laced with humor, but not disrespect.
Ezekiel was mesmerized. The man’s eyes were as deep as the sea and as black as a moonless night. He strained to break the man’s steely gaze and finally summoned the energy to sit upright. There was something about the helper that rendered the old prophet powerless.
“Who are you?” Ezekiel asked faintly.
A grin formed on the man’s face and a twinkle glinted in his eyes. He reached up to remove a helmet of hammered gold from his head.
Ezekiel noticed the purple fringes of a Jewish prayer shawl peaking from under an ornate breastplate. Around crimson-dyed trousers a leather belt was clasped by a cut ruby larger than any he could’ve imagined. On the man’s finger was a hardened signet ring. He was a ruler of Babylon, but strangely, he spoke in clear, royal-born Hebrew.
“My Babylonian master calls me Belteshazzar. My name, however, will always remain Daniel.”
Ezekiel’s brows furrowed, “Belteshazzar? You are the King’s man. Why are you here?”
“You!” he laughed. “You are the reason. Listen, you believe that Jehovah has deposited you at the ends of the earth, but your words are being trumpeted throughout the empire. I am here to encourage you, and to learn.”
Daniel offered the prophet a bladder filled with water, and Ezekiel gulped freely. After drinking his fill he nodded and spoke his mind. “I have only been commissioned to speak the word of the Lord here in Tel-Abib. How is it that you have heard?”
“Oh, my friend,” Daniel patted Ezekiel’s bony shoulder, “there is no greater diversion in the empire than the spread of rumor and intrigue. The fact that you have prophesied against the enemies of Nebuchadnezzar has enticed the king to plant his spies. Your every word reaches his ears and tickles his hearing. By this time tomorrow your oracle against his Persian thorns will have brought a great smile to his face. Did you not know? Nebuchadnezzar is now a worshipper of Jehovah?”
“This cannot be! How is it so?” Ezekiel gasped.
“It is a long story and one for another day. I am here for a purpose. This evening as you spoke, you witnessed something similar to a vision I recently experienced.” Daniel’s voice receded to a whisper. “Tell me, what did you see?”
The prophet took a deep breath. “I saw the mountains of Israel covered with a great host of vermin, come to take the spoil from Jerusalem. The peaks were reeling with the quaking of the earth. Rocks were dislodged and falling upon the armies. The rugged grounds were leveled. Then I saw shards of lightning proceed from the Holy Place.”
Ezekiel stopped and clasped his hands around Daniel’s forearms. Desperation and hope mingled in his voice. “I saw the Holy Place. I saw...” His breath came in short gasps, causing a pulse of worry within Daniel’s heart.
“Easy my friend. Calm yourself and go on.”
The prophet took a deep intake of air and steadied himself to continue. “Each bolt of light rose high and flashed towards the mountains. Every peak erupted in anger. Fire, brimstone, and hail fell from the sky. Magog’s armies were confused and began to fight against one another even as they were being crushed from above. Then a massive shard, larger than life itself, flew into the sky, shooting toward the east. It seemed poised to encircle the earth, and then it disappeared in a flash. Ezekiel sighed and released his grip on Daniel’s arms. “The vision ended as abruptly as it began. The next thing I saw was you, staring me in the face.”
Daniel stood upright and began to pace in front of the well. His arms were crossed, and he stroked his chin as he formed his next query.
“What was the source of the lightning? From what did it spring? Focus,” Daniel urged.
Ezekiel allowed his mind’s eye to return to the holy mountain of Judea, to the place where Solomon’s Temple had once adorned the chosen city of God. It was if he were an eagle soaring above the land. Then, he gasped and recaptured the penetrating gaze of his guest.
“What did you see?” Daniel stiffened.

CHAPTER ONE


UNITED PRESS…dateline November 6th…Chaos exists in the streets of five cities stricken by nuclear-armed terrorists. Reports from Seattle, Kansas City, Houston, Atlanta, and Baltimore confirm that the rule of law has given way to anarchy. Gangs roam freely in neighborhoods unaffected by radiation fallout. Most police agencies, short of manpower, have chosen to protect suburban areas where FEMA centers have been established to attend to the multitude of refugees.

ASSOCIATED PRESS…dateline November 6th….. White House Press Secretary, Gordon Jones, reiterated that President Yangton and his National Security Team are safe and working to restore the security of the nation in the wake of Wednesday’s tragedies. The Secretary announced an Executive Order recalling the all US Navy Fleets to American territorial waters. “Protecting our country from further terrorist attacks is our highest priority,” Jones stated.

REUTERS NEWS AGENCY…dateline November 6th…. An unnamed senior White House source said today that President Yangton will reset America’s relationship with Israel. The source is quoted as saying: “The President is deeply concerned that Israel has callously provoked the world by its incursions into Libyan sovereign territory and attacks on the Sudanese military in the Gulf of Aqaba. There no longer seems to be room for compromise.”

CHRISTIAN SCIENCE MONITOR…dateline November 6th …. The Federal Aviation Administration lifted temporary restriction on domestic and foreign flights due to the desperate need to deliver recovery teams to the five affected cities. However, tight security measures and a failing economy have dampened any enthusiasm for travel.

THE LONDON TIMES ….dateline November 7th… Lead divisions of the Russian peacekeeping coalition have encountered heavy resistance by ultra-jihadist elements of the Lebanese Army northeast of Beirut. The Kremlin says it is dismayed at the development though steadfast in fulfilling the UN mandate to subdue and pacify the embroiled region.

NEW YORK TIMES….dateline November 7th… Reports confirm that six divisions of the Iranian Pasdran Revolutionary Army have advanced into Syria via the newly proclaimed State of Kurdistan, formerly northern Iraq. Meanwhile, Jordan’s King Abdullah has negated all extant treaties with Israel and has invited the Iranian Air Force to utilize Jordanian airfields as bases of operations. It is believed by the Israelis that Abdullah has caved to unspecified Iranian threats.

JERUSALEM POST….dateline November 7th… Unconfirmed reports suggest that five Turkish Armored divisions are moving along the Mediterranean coast towards Syrian territory.

MOSCOW DAILY NEWS (PRAVDA)….dateline November 7th…. The Kremlin has denied an aerial battle occurred over the Mediterranean Sea between Israeli Air Force F-16 fighter jets and Russian Sukhoi aircraft. “Preposterous,” was the one-word explanation offered by Prime Minister Grigori Polkov when it was suggested that elite Russian aircraft had been defeated in battle.

ST LOUIS DISPATCH…dateline November 7th…. Though Martial Law has been imposed, Kansas City and other terror-effected cities continue to reel from mass rioting and social madness. Lawlessness is spreading as the American economy is lifeless.


Abu Kamal, Eastern Syria
Sunday morning, November 8

“Sahib, it is time,” said the young, whiskerless aide.
Tariq Kazimi, President of the Islamic Republic of Iran and erstwhile leader of the Iranian Pasdaran army scratched under his long, bent nose where three-day-old stubble irritated the skin of his upper lip. He was wearing drab, military garb that hanged loosely from his small frame. No insignia identified his rank, no ribbons or medals signified any service whatsoever. His matching cap was ill-fitted to his large head. Black curly hair sprayed from under its edges. As leader of the Islamic Republic, he’d simply demanded to be outfitted as a regular soldier in the Revolutionary Guards. After all, he was the supreme commander, a title he’d taken for himself.
“Tell them I shall enter in a moment.”
“Yes, Mr. President,” said the aide.
“From this moment onward, Ishtu, you shall address me as Supreme Commander, is this understood?”
The aide bowed. “Yes Supreme Commander. I am at your service.”
“Thank you. Now do as I have required.” He flicked of his hand to dismiss the aide.
Kazimi adjusted the bill of his cap as he reviewed his reflection in the dirty pane of the only window in the room. Satisfied with his bearing, he shrugged and stepped into the meeting. He tucked a swagger stick under his arm for dramatic effect.
His highest ranking generals had been meeting with three Syrian counterparts for the last thirty minutes. They were working to logistically merge the Abu Kamal Brigade with the Pasdaran Army of Iran. Syria’s fifteen thousand troops, fully equipped with a supporting battalion of Russian armor would compliment the one hundred thousand men Kazimi was now leading toward Palestine. In fact, the thought of picking up stray remnants of the defunct Syrian army practically made the man salivate. His dream of initiating a final solution for the Jewish problem was getting closer to becoming a reality with each passing day. In his heart of hearts, Kazimi was determined to usher in the Mahdi, his Messiah. In his mind, he was positive that nothing could now stop him. Islam would take the final steps to world dominance, and the process was beyond the point of no return.
He was still miffed at the Russians. They had demanded that he halt his southward advance and stick to the original design; to pressure Israel from a distance. The plan called for the Iranians to skirt the Syrian border with Turkey then cross the Euphrates River at Tisheen. They were to form the eastern flank of a three-pronged attack from the north. But for Kazimi, that was overkill. Even worse, any glory for subduing Israel would be bestowed to others. He would not allow that to happen, not with his Mahdi being the transcendent rewarder of his faithful servants. The Russians could try to wield control of the coalition if they liked. He would simply choose to go his own way. With a thrill, he knew he was about to throw the entire operation into chaos.
Upon entry to the meeting, the president greeted the Syrians. Whether they knew it or not, they were now his to rule.

Plattsville, Missouri
Sunday, November 8
2:30 p.m., Local Time

Another of life’s many chapters had ended for Ty Dempsey, pastor of Faith Community Church. Barely three weeks had passed since he’d buried his younger brother in the National Cemetery at Leavenworth. Nathan was just another number on a long list of casualties in the Iraqi war. But for Ty, the sting of the loss remained poignant, not only for him, but for his mother. He was her last remaining son and provider, having lost her husband just two years earlier. But even that pain was now compounded, for she too was dead.
Ty could not have known that Nathan’s quiet ceremony would be the beginning of a nightmare. Since that dreary day the world seemed to slip over the edge of a dark abyss. America had been targeted by radical, nuclear-wielding Islamofacists, and Ty had personally witnessed the incineration of downtown Kansas City in a radioactive mushroom.
Israel had suffered a similar attack. Haifa, the small nation’s second largest city had been the target of a nuclear-tipped missile. Though the nuke missed the heaviest concentration of population, tens of thousands of Israeli citizens had perished. That heinous act only served to initiate a cycle of reprisals on the part of the Jews, first with an attack on the Iranian nuclear facilities followed by the destruction of Damascus, Syria. To Ty, the world had gone mad. But it was not without warning. Every event, every move, and every counter move had been predicted long ago. The world would suffer for its sins, and that had led to this moment. Sadly, a higher cost than he could’ve imagined was being paid. Why?
Ty wasn’t tempted to try and figure it out. That would be for later. For now, he was left to stare at the cold casket of his mother, trying once again to come to grips with the cold tentacles of death.
Nothing was as it should be, at least according to the ache in his soul. That shallow part of his humanity wanted to question why things had gone so sour. How could life turn so drastically in such a short span of time? It was easy to say God knew, especially when he was comforting others in their grief. But this grief was Ty’s, and the answers didn’t come so easily. Life was fragile and there was no getting around it.
That he wasn’t the only man in pain didn’t provide much comfort. Five US cities were basically gutted by nuclear detonations. A spirit of lawlessness was ravaging what remained. He’d seen it coming, even to the point of warning his congregation of what was coming. The fact was the world was being torn apart at the seams, and Ty had been passionately preaching about it since God had opened his eyes to the truth of Bible prophecy. What many had discounted as allegorical and figurative was actually coming true, step by literal step. The prophecies would continue to be fulfilled until the Kingdom of God was fully birthed. But what had his preaching accomplished? Nothing but a schism in the church. It ended when his mother took a bullet meant for him.
Ty stood tall beside his mother’s grave, wearing a long, black outer coat that couldn’t ward off the chill he was feeling. Tall and muscular at well over six feet, he suddenly felt small and insignificant in the great scheme of things. A cold breeze seemed to taunt his last vestige of orderliness as it flipped his dark hair across his brow. His blue eyes welled with tears.
Beside him, with her arms wrapped about his waist, was the new love of his life, sustaining him in a loss he’d never dreamed possible. Though it had only been a matter days since the announcement of their engagement, Blake Sieler had already added a new depth of faith and determination to his life. Standing next to Ty, her lovely yet petite frame seemed overwhelmed. But Blake was far from fragile. Her presence was a pillar for him.
Even in his grief Ty was captivated by the whirlwind romance that had brought them to this point. From the moment he’d first seen her at a single’s conference just three months earlier, his heart had been stolen. Still, he’d stalled for several long weeks before deciding to take the plunge. He finally invited the beautiful blond, blue-eyed singer to dinner. To his astonishment she’d been patiently waiting for his call. From that moment they knew God intended them to be together. Now, although everything in his world seemed to be unraveling, he was certain he could go forward in God’s plan as long as she was beside him.
“What a beautiful resting place,” she sighed, thinking of how attached she’d become to Martha Dempsey in such a short time. “She deserves it.”
Ty looked into the bright November sky and distracted his grief by envisioning what might be coming next. God’s prophetic horizon was the Middle East, particularly the State of Israel. Something evil was coming, something that would rock the planet, leaving it to reel in deception and death. But another event also loomed large, one that he’d recently come to love and expect. Jesus would be appearing soon. He’d be coming for his bride, the church made up of all true believers worldwide. Theologians called it the Rapture and it would be the beginning of a prophesied end. It was that very thought that accompanied the last words spoken to him by his mother. “You will live to see the Rapture,” she’d said as life drained from her body.
Glancing down at her casket one last time, Ty knew he’d see her again, along with his deceased father Jimmy and his brother Nathan. The sting of death was sharp and bitter, but hope in Christ was stronger.
He felt a gentle squeeze and realized Blake was looking up at him, trying to get a glimpse at his thoughts. Ty could hardly keep from falling into her bright blue eyes as he returned her gaze. She reached up, touched a tear on his cheek, and smiled.
“Yes, she deserves it,” he finally answered.

The Mountains of Lebanon
Sunday, 10:30 p.m., Local Time

A cold, bitter wind met Major General Anatoly Telnikov as he dismounted the M-8 ‘Hip’ transport helicopter. The short, rugged, power-packed leader of the Russian 7th Airborne Division had just been delivered to the summit of Mount Quarnat as Sawda in northern Lebanon. He removed the in-flight communications helmet and quickly replaced it with a standard issue paratroop beret. The thin covering would do little to protect his closely cropped head against the whistling wind, but his hardened paratrooper image would be reinforced.
Three young soldiers ran to meet him as the chopper deposited the General and returned to flight. It would be returning within the hour delivering other members of his CNC, Command and Control unit. At that point the forward command post would be installed and activated. In the meantime, the highest peak in Lebanon afforded the General a breathtaking view of the area between him and the Israeli border to the south. He walked toward a small, rocky outcropping to get a better look at the nighttime panorama.
Stretching to his east was the breadth of the Bekaa valley, the sight of countless battles since the dawn of time. The Bekaa formed a narrow rift that cut through most of the country of Lebanon. But at the northern most reaches, its width made it a sight to behold. Pinpoints of light were visible across the valley, revealing multiple enclaves. Mostly populated by small farms and roving Bedouin herdsmen, it was also home to the Iranian sponsored militia called Hizbollah. Outside of the capitol city of Beirut, this valley was the busiest piece of real estate in the embattled country, and probably the most dangerous.
Medium-ranged rocket and artillery fire could be seen a bit to his south, most of it emanating from the area in which 104th Parachute Regiment of the Russian 7th had landed. His men were engaging a brigade of Hizbollah and regular Lebanese infantry before making its advance toward Mount Sanine in central Lebanon. Against the backdrop of a black sky, the sight took on the look of a distant pyrotechnic celebration back home in the Motherland.
Telnikov smiled. What a surprise it must be for the self-described ‘Ninja’ fighters! They’d been led to believe the Russians, dropping from dozens of Ilyushin-76 aircraft, were actually coming to assist their little jihad.
Funny how easily the narrow-minded could be fooled, he thought. Too bad! The last thing the coalition needed was the volatility accompanied religious fanatics.
No doubt, what might have been a momentary ally would become a persistent enemy before this little skirmish was over. Thus the danger had to be eliminated. In fact, the sooner the Lebanese were removed as a fighting force the better. Sending them to their virgin-filled paradise pricked the general’s conscience not at all.
Telnikov buttoned the collar of his combat utilities as his train of thought continued. How could otherwise intelligent people swallow the manipulations of the Ayatollahs? He didn’t have the answer. Too many of his own religiously contrived demons haunted him, images that invaded his conscious thought more and more. Oddly, the most impacting paranormal experience had stormed his mind less than forty-eight hours earlier while he was dangling beneath a parachute.
The vision was easy to conjure, though its meaning eluded him. Most startling was the appearance of a larger-than-life sword, complete with flames dancing around its edges. The huge weapon was pointing directly at him from the land of Israel as he descended through the evening sky. Then a voice cried out from the distance, menacing and cold. He could not excise it from his head, no matter how he tried. Repeatedly, he was drawn to the feeling that he had some part to play, something beyond this mission for the Motherland. The voice had warned of blessings and curses, and Israel was the subject. He who blesses you, I will bless. He who curses you and dishonors you, I will curse. The words disturbed him greatly, because they’d been spoken to him long ago by his grandmother on day she died for an outlawed faith. More than forty years had passed since the woman who’d raised him had been brutally executed.
Why is it all coming back at this moment? Telnikov thought. The query was unanswerable, at least for now.
With a shiver he turned his thoughts back to the present. He slowly worked his way around twisted pieces of a wrecked radar array, recently destroyed by the Israelis. For more than a year, the Iranian-built complex had observed and reported on much of Israel’s air activity. Quarnat had been a particularly tasty prize for the Iranians. In the summer of 2008 they’d convinced their Hizbollah underlings to dislodge the Lebanese army from the mount and provide a threat warning system. However, the twisted shards of metal and fiberglass in this no-man’s-land provided a stark reminder that Israel’s squadrons of F-16 fighters still held the high ground in technology.
Everyone expected the Israelis to launch an attack on Iran’s nuclear production facilities, but the Jews had delayed in escalating tensions. Believing themselves invincible, the Iranians made the decision to strike first, even before this particular facility had been completed. Iran’s goal had been to initiate armed conflict with its mortal enemy by launching a medium-ranged Seagah missile at Haifa. On its tip was a nuclear warhead. That attack, along with Israel’s own nuclear response had ultimately led to Telnikov’s feet being firmly planted on this mountain. Now it was his war to fight, and the radical’s wish for battle was being granted.
The general lifted a radio to his lips and depressed the call button. “Colonel Zolenti, I want those M-26 Halos to lift my command trailer to the peak of Mount Quarnat, and I want it done before noon tomorrow. Is that clear?” Telnikov ordered. Frustration laced his words. Although the 104th Regiment’s attack on Hizbollah lines had thus far gone as planned, command and control was taking forever to establish. That irritation would be ending soon, or a head would be figuratively lifted from someone’s shoulders by one of the General’s infamous tongue lashings.
“But General, what about a power input? It will take at least another day to get a high-voltage generator in place to handle the load,” Colonel Alexi Zolenti responded, not without apprehension.
“My dear Colonel, I am presently transfixed by the sight of a three-phase transformer sitting some twenty meters from where I stand. Since I can here it buzzing, I am assuming we have all the energy we will need,” Telnikov retorted. “Now, before you say anything beyond a hardy ‘DA COMRADE,’ understand that I have more competence in my index finger than you posses in your supply-clogged brain. Now get this job done!”
Telnikov did not linger for a response. Instead, his attention was redirected to a massive fireball rising from the direction of the Israeli border. He then saw two pinpoints of light, easily discernable as Israeli attack aircraft, rocketed to high altitude. He knew this because the only air force operating in the sector was the IAF. Twenty seconds later the concussion reached his ears. Ten seconds after that the fighter jets had disappeared.
Telnikov’s radio squawked to life.
“General, we have action to the south,” informed his communications lieutenant.
“Da, I see it—Report!”
“Forward observers say a Lebanese army unit has been launching rockets across the border into Israel all evening. It appears the Jew’s reached their limit of patience,” the lieutenant reported.
“That explosion had more power than anything generated by air-to-ground missiles,” Telnikov said.
“Intelligence says it was a small Fuel-Air-Explosive. The area is ablaze.”
The use of a large FAE was the next best thing to nuclear, being without the effects or the fallout of radiation. Haifa, Israel had suffered that particular radioactive trauma a few days earlier and the Jews had retaliated by obliterating Damascus with nukes. Iran had also been the brunt of Israel’s vengeance, but with less drastic results.
Telnikov was relieved at this new development. It meant the Israelis had backed off the use of their tactical nuclear weapons. “Very well Lieutenant. Keep me apprised of the reports, but I can see most of it from the top of this mountain.”
“Da, General!” the lieutenant ended the transmission.

Jimmy Root Jr
Author: DISTANT THUNDER and the AWARD WINNING MAGOG RISING
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Distant Thunder, Gog and Magog, Israel, Iran, Radical Islam, Ezekiel 38 and 39, Jimmy Root Jr, Rapture, Nuclear Weapons, Bible Prophecy, Russia, European Union, Lightning Chronicles, Terrorism, Ahmadinijad,

New Review from Cafe of Dreams

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Review - Distant Thunder by Jimmy Root Jr.

Distant Thunder
By: Jimmy Root Jr.Paperback: 328 pages
Publisher: American Book Publishing (August 10, 2009)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1589825535
ISBN-13: 978-1589825536
Product Dimensions: 8.3 x 5 x 0.7 inches

Distant Thunder is the first book in The Lightening Chronicles with the promise of more engrossing stories to follow. I, personally, love stories based upon prophetic beliefs and ideas. I find it incredibly interesting to take an idea that has been tossed around for centuries and turn it into an almost true-to-life occurrence, such as Jimmy Root Jr. does here in Distant Thunder.

I found myself quickly and immediately absorbed within the pages and story of Distant Thunder. This is a story that will take the collection of "what-if" questions that flow through people's minds and bring them to life. I greatly enjoyed the author's style of writing and the way he is able to breathe realism into his characters and situations, placing the reader within the pages of the book.With the constant threat of terrorism, mother nature, and so many widespread catastrophes, one is often left to wonder if those long ago prophecies may be heading toward truth.

Distant Thunder takes the biblical prophecies and puts them in a light of current times with a non-stop, heart-pounding thriller that is sure to leave the reader up late into the night, flying through pages. Once the final page is turned, eagerness will consume, knowing that a new installment will be on it's way soon.I highly recommend this excellent book and cannot wait for the next in the Lightening Chronicles!