CHAPTER 3
The middle-aged general’s jaw dropped as he gaped at his visitor. Despite his recent suspicions about the Arabs’ intentions, the news still came as a shock. He didn’t want to believe what Tess had just told him. To accept the bad news meant that his premonitions were true, and he wasn’t prepared to face that. He didn’t know what he would do if they were.
“Where…” He swallowed. “Uh, where did you get your information?”
Tess clasped her hands in front of her waist. “A spy who infiltrated the Iranian army got hold of me. He sent me to give you the information.”
The general paced the room. The harsh glare from the overhead light permeating the office suddenly appeared too bright. “No. No!”
Suddenly, he froze. A horrible memory flashed into his mind…
Cannon blasts, rifle shots, shouts, and screams assaulted a young Agnon’s ears. All around him, the Iraqi desert stretched into the horizon, clouded by gunpowder drifted over the sand dunes. Perspiration poured down his face; he reached up to wipe it off. Suddenly, next to the private, his partner collapsed, clutching his chest. “I’m hit!” the soldier screamed, then lay slumped in a pool of his own blood.
“Ehud!” Agnon screamed. “Ehud—don’t die! Come back! Ehud!!”
He raised his head and scanned the area frantically. What now? What was he to do?...
“It’s all right, General Agnon.” Tess’ voice, now soothing, reached his ears. “It’s all right. You’re safe here in this room, surrounded by friends and allies. And by a son who loves you.”
He became aware that Tess had clasped him against her chest, and was patting his back. Slowly, the violent shaking subsided. The air-conditioner’s hum penetrated his ears, and he became aware of the cool air caressing his exposed skin. With a deep, shuddering breath, he stepped back and rubbed his eyes.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Comes over me sometimes—those old memories.”
“Flashbacks.” Tess nodded. “You’re not the first soldier to endure those. The horrors of war can leave terrible scars on a person’s heart and mind.”
She grasped his upper arms and looked into his eyes. “General Agnon, listen to me. Jehovah was with your during those terrible times, and He is with you now. And He will be with you during the bad times to come.”
She dropped her hands to her sides, then stepped back. “What you need, now, is an armor no garrison can provide for you. That armor is called faith. No weapon can pierce that armor, because it’s indestructible.”
Biting his lower lip, Amos shrugged. He had no idea how to get hold of such armor, let alone how to use it.
Tess glanced toward Theodor, who gazed at his father in concern. The young private straightened his khaki-colored shirt as he exchanged glances with Rafael. Tess looked from one to the other, then turned back to the general. “One other thing, general,” she added. “You and Theodor need to be on the same team if you’re to be able to stand up against this coming attack. This is not the time to be at odds with each other—this is the time to pull together.”
She turned to the young private. “Theodor, I’m speaking to you, too. This goes for both of you.” Theodor nodded.
Stiffening, General Agnon pursed his lower lip. “Theodor needs to learn proper respect!” he retorted. “Moreover, he’s got to stop spreading that heretical doctrine.” The habitual stern expression returned to his face.
Monica and Tess exchanged glances. “Is that why your son was drafted, general?” Monica asked gently.
The general nodded, slumping his shoulders. “Yes,” he admitted. “I had that done, myself, and then I had him transferred to this bunker so I could keep an eye on him. It’s the only way I can stop him.” Theodor looked away from him and said nothing.
In an effort to deflect her words, the general looked at Tess and chuckled. “You know, Tess, if you were general, I do believe every soldier under my command would jump to obey you!” The others laughed. Scratching his ear, Theodor said nothing, but bit his lower lip.
Andrew nodded. “Yes, she’s no-nonsense and can be quite stern, but she has a heart of gold.” He grinned at Tess, who snorted.
A shrill warning whistle startled General Agnon. He rushed toward his desk and yanked up the receiver. “Rafael, Theodor, prepare yourselves for battle,” he barked, then held the receiver to his ear. “We are under attack; get all soldiers out to the battlefield! I repeat: we are under attack; prepare for battle!”
He proceeded to bark orders to his subordinates, then slammed the phone down. He whirled around and pointed a finger at Andrew. “The Arabs are invading us—right now!” he said, glancing at the computer monitor. “We must fight now!” He took a deep breath. “No doubt, Iran is leading the attack; it’s wanted to destroy us for decades. Andrew, you’ll have to drive me out to the field, so get the armored truck and meet me outside.”
Without another word, he rushed out of the office, followed by Theodor and Rafael. Andrew hurried after him; the door slammed shut behind them both.
Agnon’s emotions churned as he rushed toward the entrance, his boots clicking on the bare stone floor. He knew he had to act quickly if he was to save his country. All he could think about was getting his soldiers out to the battlefield; all else escaped his mind.
For a second, the formations he would normally arrange his soldiers in, to safeguard them, flew into his mind, then he shook his head. Puccini will send his army when he hears of this, he thought, bolting out the door. Surely we won’t need the precautionary formations!
END OF CHAPTER 3