CHAPTER 9
Puccini stepped out of the door, followed by Dayan. Without looking behind him, Dayan slammed the door shut by swinging his arm behind his back. Facing ahead, the two strode down the hall, shoes softly thudding on the thick carpet; within seconds, they disappeared around the corner. Ben sagged his shoulders, sighing in relief. Thank You, God!
“Come on, Ben!” Andrew appeared next to him. “Come with me, and I will get you out of here. Sam is waiting for us on the curb.”
Ben and Andrew took the elevator down to the first floor and left the building; a cool breeze caressed Ben’s face as he stepped onto the sidewalk. Again, no one paid any attention to them. They re-entered the taxi and returned to the airport. Back on the plane, Ben asked to see Jacob.
“I’ve got important news for him,” he told Miki. Richard and Ryan leaned against the wall, listening, arms folded, eyebrows furrowed.
The recruit-turned-bodyguard nodded. “He’s in the rear cabin, going over the notes that were taken during the meeting, and conferring with his two regular pilots. After he left Puccini, he managed to track them down and bring them to the plane, to return to Israel." He pivoted. "I’ll tell him.” Miki exited the front cabin, his footfalls gradually fading as he marched down the hall.
“What did you find out?” Ryan asked Ben. He rubbed his hands on his pants as he spoke.
“I’ll tell you when Jacob comes up here.” Ben brushed his hair out of his eyes. Someone, he noticed, had drawn the curtains over the windows; the cabin looked dark. He could only be glad; at least, with the windows covered, there was no danger of anyone looking through the window and recognizing Ben.
As he waited for Jacob, Ben shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He couldn’t wait to share what he’d overheard with Barak. With this proof, Jacob would have to act!
Footfalls heralded his cousin’s approach; a moment later, Barak entered the front cabin, accompanied by Miki. The prime minister wore a gray polyester suit and a black tie over a crisp white shirt; his right hand grasped a half-empty wine glass. “Miki, here, tells me you want to see me,” he told Ben, who nodded.
“It’s a matter of life and death, Jacob,” Ben told him.
Nodding, the prime minister turned to Miki. “Go back to the rear cabin and wait for me there with the pilots,” he ordered. “If I need you before I return, I’ll send for you.” Acquiescing, Miki left. Silence descended over the cabin.
Jacob set the wine glass on the table, then turned back to Ben. “What is it, Ben?”
Ben glanced at the curtains for a moment; taking a deep breath, he turned to face Jacob. “After you returned from the meeting, I went to the government building,” he said. “God protected me so that no one recognized me. I overheard Puccini and Dayan speak in Puccini’s office. I stood outside their door, listening in.”
Jacob folded his arms across his chest, furrowing his eyebrows. “And what did they say?”
Ben bit his lower lip, then glanced at Richard, then Ryan. “Puccini is going to betray us,” he said. “Tomorrow, he’s going to Israel to stop the sacrifices in the temple. He’s going to set up a statue there and force people to worship it, and him. And Dayan is going to set up another one in the city itself." He paused, exhaling slowly. "He means to force our people to worship him as God, upon pain of death. Hence the statues.” His voice rose. “And you know our people will never agree to that. He means to withdraw his protection of our nation and kill us, Jacob! All of us!”
Jacob’s mouth dropped open. For a long moment, he gaped at his cousin. At last, he asked, “H—how did you ever manage to get inside the government building—and get so close to Puccini and Dayan—without getting caught?!”
“I told you. God protected me. He sent angels.”
“That’s right.” Andrew appeared next to Ben; Sam appeared behind him. At that moment, Tess and Monica stepped into the cabin. Jacob stared at the four angels.
“Tess—Andrew—it’s you!” Jacob gasped, looking from one to another. “What are you doing here?” He gaped at Monica. “And who are you?”
“Don’t be afraid, Jacob. My name is Monica, and this is Andrew,” the Irish-tongued angel told him gently. “We are angels. Sent by God. Your receptionist, Gloria, is an angel, too.”
Tess nodded agreement. "You should remember Monica; she helped your family escape from Yugoslavia."
Jacob's mouth dropped open as he stared at the Irish-tongued angel. "That bright light was you? You got us safely past that guarded fence? The angel who stepped out of that light—it was you!”
"Yes, Jacob." Monica smiled at him. "I was in Search and Rescue then, and God sent me to get you and your loved ones to safety."
Footfalls caught their attention; a minute later, Miki re-entered the cabin. Jacob glared at him. “I told you to stay in the rear cabin unless I sent for you! What are you doing here?”
“I’m under orders, Barak.” The recruit approached Jacob, revolver dangling from its holster. His shoes thudded softly on the carpet. “Orders from a higher authority than yours.”
Jacob’s eyes narrowed. “Puccini’s orders?” He pressed his lips into a tight line. “Don’t tell me you’re a spy for Puccini!”
Miki chuckled. “Of course not.”
“Miki takes his orders from a far higher authority than you or even Antonio Puccini, Jacob,” Andrew told him. “He takes his orders directly from God. You see, Miki is an angel, too.”
Jacob’s legs buckled; he fell limply into the nearest leather-upholstered armchair, gaping up at Miki. The mattress sagged underneath him as he tried vainly to straighten his posture. “You mean—we’re surrounded by angels?” He fixed his gaze on Miki. “Why are you here?” he asked the angel.
Folding her arms across her chest, Tess answered for him. “Miki’s job is to protect your people, Jacob. You see, extremely dangerous times loom ahead for your people and your nation. God helped you and your cousins escape Communism when you were children, so you and David could have a role in saving your people now. And God has sent His warrior archangel to defend Israel from the enemies that seek to destroy it.”
An unearthly light poured over Miki, as his clothes changed from a soldier’s khaki uniform to a snow-white robe. The gun and its holster disappeared from his side. Jacob pointed at him with a trembling finger. “Mi—Michael?!”
“Yes.” The archangel gazed down at him, love and compassion radiating from an otherwise warlike expression etched on his bronze-colored face. “I am Michael.”
Jacob couldn’t believe his ears—or his eyes! How could this IDF recruit be the warrior archangel, Michael? It couldn’t be!
“Jacob Barak, God has sent me to protect not only you personally, but your people as well, through the horrors to come. But first, He has a message for you.” Michael put his hands on his hips and looked Jacob in the eye. “God wants you to know that He has a role for you in this situation, too. A role that will help save thousands of lives. But you must decide whether you will cooperate with God’s plans or resist them.”
Jacob covered his eyes with his hands, taking several deep breaths. When he dropped them into his lap, he sagged his shoulders and exhaled deeply. “What—what does Jehovah want me to do?” He straightened his posture as he spoke, this time successfully. He squared his shoulders and looked the archangel in the face.
Monica approached him; kneeling in front of him, she laid a hand on his knee. Her knees made soft indentations in the carpet tufts. “For starters, Jacob, God wants you to give your life over to your Messiah. To the Son of God, Jesus Christ. To Yeshua.” She paused. “He is coming in three-and-a-half years to keep the promises He made to your people during the times of the Old Testament, and He wants you to be ready. Just give Him your heart—your life.”
Jacob nodded. Silently, he laid his face in his hands and prayed, Please, Yeshua, forgive me! Come into my heart and make me ready for Your Kingdom. Make me fit for whatever you want me to do, before then. Amen.
He raised his head, smiling, his eyes wet. The angels beamed; Richard and Ryan did the same. Andrew slapped his shoulder. “The angels in Heaven are rejoicing over your decision, Jacob, and so are the angels here on earth!”
Tess nodded agreement. “And now that you have turned your life over to God, He has a job for you. The Father wants you to get the IDF army ready to evacuate your people, and to take them to Petra. They will have to stay there till Jesus returns.” She paused. “You have only a day to do it, now, so don’t waste any time. Things will come to a head tomorrow.” She wagged her finger for emphasis. “When the abomination of desolation takes place, the people will have to leave immediately. There won’t even be time to pack their things. Or to go back into their homes in the event they forget anything.”
Jacob acquiesced. “All right,” he finally said. “I’ll do it.” He frowned. “But if there’s going to be no time to pack, how can I issue an advance warning to the people without tipping off Puccini?”
Andrew smiled. “God is going to send angels all through the city, to warn them to get ready for the evacuation. Not all of the people will cooperate; some will insist on staying in Jerusalem, but much of the population will agree to leave. In the meantime, your job is to prepare the Israeli Defense Forces for their assignment. Since there’s only a very little time left to do it now, Gloria is going to help you. She is very efficient. So are the Special Forces angels God is sending to assist in the preparations. All arrangements must be finished before Puccini arrives in Jerusalem, so you have only a small window of time to complete them.”
Richard nodded agreement. “We certainly do. And I can vouch for what Andrew says about Gloria, Excellency. She certainly is efficient." He paused. "Gloria helped us find our daughter Rachel after the earthquake—after all our own efforts to find her had failed. She also helped us find Deborah Weizmann’s body. Rachel and Deborah were trapped in the same building by the earthquake.” Sadness welled in his eyes. “Deborah died not long after.” Rubbing his hair from front to back, he smiled at Monica. “I might add that Monica has helped us repeatedly, too.”
“I know. Monica is an angel of truth. It is her specialty,” Michael said. “She is also an angel of genuine compassion.” Monica smiled her appreciation of his praise.
Richard nodded agreement. He glanced at the slivers of sunlight creeping around the edges of the curtains, then pivoted to face the others. Biting his lower lip, he gazed at Michael. “Uh, Michael, forgive me, but may I ask a personal question?”
The archangel nodded. “Certainly.”
Richard took a deep breath. “As commanding officer—as general—of the warrior angels, it must have been a great comedown to have to take orders from a human sergeant. Or, for that matter, from a human commissioned officer. How have you dealt with it?”
Michael chuckled. “Yes, it was a comedown, Richard—I will not pretend otherwise. It was indeed hard to have to take orders from humans, even though it was only for a time. My only recourse in dealing with it was to remember that God always has a good reason for whatever He tells us to do, and to pray for His strength.” He glanced at Barak, who smiled and shook his head. “All I can say is that sometimes, even we angels have lessons to learn—some of which are hard. Sometimes, we have to accept a humbling assignment to learn those lessons. Monica, here, can attest to that.”
Monica nodded agreement. “Yes, I can,” she said. “I’ve been through some very difficult and humbling assignments since God promoted me from Search and Rescue to casework. Once, early in my work as a caseworker, I had to live as a homeless angel on the street. On another occasion, I went blind. And on yet another occasion, God made me black. Those are just examples.”
The Irish-tongued angel smiled ruefully. “God only sends an angel on such an assignment when He has a lesson for that angel to learn. Having been the general of the Lord’s Heavenly army since Satan’s fall, 6,000 years ago, Michael needed to learn what it was like to be on the receiving end of military orders. So God sent him on assignment as an IDF recruit several weeks ago. He had to go through basic training like any recruit, and it was very hard even for him.” Michael inclined his head in acknowledgement.
She paused. “Until this assignment, he only had to receive orders from God; he gave orders to all the warrior angels under him. And he is so strong, as an angel, that he can single-handedly defeat powerful demons, as he did the prince of Persia during Daniel’s time. Just recently—while Puccini lay dead after his assassination—God called him back up to Heaven so that, with the help of his warrior angels, Michael cast Satan and his demons out of Heaven forever. For the last several weeks, though, he has had to obey orders given by humans as well, and accept a temporary reduction in his physical strength and endurance.”
“Yes. And as soon as the war in Heaven was finished, I had to return to my assignment down here.” Michael shifted his gaze from Monica to Jacob; leaning sideways, he rested his fingertips on the table’s smooth mahogany surface. “During this assignment—except when God recalled me to His side, to fight Satan and his hordes in the recent battle—He wanted me to rely less on my strength and more on reaching humans with the truth. As He ordered me to do for you, Jacob." Straightening his back, he folded his arms across his chest. "However, that phase of my assignment is over now. My next phase starts tomorrow, when the abomination of desolation will occur. God will send me to conduct it when the time is right.”
“Thank the Lord tomorrow’s not Saturday.” Jacob sighed. He froze. “But what about the weather? If it’s as cold tomorrow as it’s been for the last few days—!”
“Don’t worry.” Monica laid a hand on his arm. “God will send you warm temperatures when the time is right. In the meantime, keep praying.” Jacob nodded.
The archangel vanished. Barak bit his lower lip and shook his head. What now? What happens next? What are we supposed to do next?
END OF CHAPTER 9