Read Fuse of Armageddon Online

Authors: Sigmund Brouwer,Hank Hanegraaff

Tags: #Fiction, #Christian, #Suspense, #General, #Religious Fiction, #Fiction / General

Fuse of Armageddon (23 page)

BOOK: Fuse of Armageddon
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“This isn’t about geopolitics,” Brad said. “God has chosen this land for Israel. They have a divine right to it.”

“Hence the term
dispensationalism
,” Quinn said to Kate. “It’s a method of biblical interpretation that says God’s plan for mankind is divided into eras—dispensations—that will progress to the final end-times era. One of the foundations of this theology is that God will fulfill His promises to two peoples: the church of Christ and ethnic Israel.”

“You can plainly see that the promise came to fruition when Israel became a nation-state in 1948,” Brad interjected. “That’s evidence enough. Anyone who tries to divide Israel is going against God’s will.”

“A view held by roughly seventy million evangelical Americans,” Quinn said. “And it’s partially why CCTI is in business—Middle Eastern conflict. By definition, anyone for a one-state solution is against a two-state solution. Moderate Palestinians and moderate Israelis want a two-state solution. Hard-line Israelis and hard-line Palestinians each want the other state destroyed. For the most part, evangelical Americans have aligned themselves with hard-line Israel.”

“God blesses those who bless Israel,” Brad said. “God curses those who curse Israel. So be careful of what you say here.”

“Are you getting the point here, Kate?” Quinn asked. “Politics determined by theological interpretations. The X factor that gets very little attention.”

“Your father has how many million supporters in his television audience?” Kate asked Brad.

“Enough that Congress and the White House pay attention to him,” Brad answered proudly.

Kate nodded at Quinn. “Yeah, I’m getting the point. Tell me about the Rapture stuff. People getting sucked into thin air—something like that—others getting left behind?”

“Well,” Brad said, “if you look at some key verses in Revelation and the rest of the Bible, you’ll see that—”

“Nutshell,” Quinn said. “This theology teaches that believers in Jesus will be ‘raptured’ to heaven during a secret coming of Christ, while nonbelievers will be left behind to face a seven-year global Tribulation, ending with another return of Christ to lead a victorious bloodbath against all His enemies at the Battle of Armageddon; then finally, after a thousand-year reign, Christ will in effect have another return to judge all the living and the dead of all mankind.”

“Not only that,” Brad said, “but all the indications are that the end of time is upon us. Wars, tribulations, earthquakes, and the return of the land to Israel. It could happen any day.”

“Let me get this straight,” Kate said. “A secret coming of Christ, a return of Christ at Armageddon seven years later, and a third one at the end of a thousand years. I should have paid more attention in Sunday school when I was a kid. It says in the New Testament that Jesus is coming back
three
different times?”

“Not specifically,” Brad said quickly. “You need to study the Bible and especially Revelation and see how verses in one part of the Bible point to verses in another. This allows you to construct the time lines. Look, even seminary-trained preachers study for years before they fully understand it all. Sometimes it’s best to rely on the experts.”

Quinn looked past Brad at the open doorway of his office. A kid had appeared, maybe twenty years old, holding a can of Diet Coke. He was skinny, with stringy dark hair and a white pallor against his black jeans and black T-shirt. He looked like he’d been kidnapped from a suburban bedroom, where he spent all his daylight hours on a computer. Which was close to the truth.

Quinn stood. “Sorry for the interruption. Looks like Kevin, our IT genius, wants me for a second.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” Kate told him.

“The doorway,” Quinn said. “No farther.”

“If you step into the hallway, I’ll shoot you.”

“Fair enough.” It was difficult to decide if she was joking. Quinn handed the papers to Kate and Brad. “Can you guys start going through this?” He glanced at the clock on his wall. “If Safady contacts us when promised, we have half an hour.”

They took the papers.

As Quinn moved to the doorway, he casually reached into his pocket for a folded note. He palmed it and, as he shook hands and greeted Kevin, gave him the note. “Any word on Roz?” he asked Kevin in a low voice.

“Nothing. No hospitals. No police reports.”

Quinn let out a breath. Too much stuff all coming at him at once. Best thing to do was keep priorities in mind and focus. Whatever was happening with Roz was out of his control; there were thirty Americans depending on negotiations going well. That was priority.

“Tell me about your progress with Safady’s computer.”

“I went back into his system, crawled around. There was nothing to show he knew he’d been hacked. To be safe, I went into the logs and deleted all activity that could point to me. And I added a screen grabber program and something to record all his activity. It shouldn’t eat up too much of his processing speed.”

Screen grabber. Quinn would get the other side of Safady’s next chat room conversation.

Kevin was grinning broadly now.

“Saving the best for last?” Quinn asked.

“Cracked the gateway provider,” Kevin said. “We now have the physical address of his account.”

Khan Yunis, Gaza Strip • 9:39 GMT

Ray Klein was halfway through the window, getting help from Abe Williams, when Safady and three men armed with machine guns dragged him back inside.

“Don’t look so surprised,” Safady told them. “All the windows are wired to a silent alarm system.” He raised his right hand and pointed his index finger at them.

The soldiers lifted their machine guns to point the barrels directly at the chests of the two men.

“No need to shoot,” Klein said frantically. “We’ll go back in with the others, no problem. There’s no harm done, right?”

“It won’t be that simple,” Safady answered. A fly landed on the back of his hand. He brushed it away. “In about two hours, I’m going to need some dead hostages anyway.”

Klein held up his hands, palm outward. “We can talk, can’t we? Whatever you think you’re going to get, I can add to it from my personal fortune. Same with Williams here. Right, Abe?”

Abe was licking his lips, eyes fixed on the barrels of the machine guns. “All of it. I have a great deal of money to offer you.”

“Did it occur to either of you that this operation took some planning?” Safady asked.

“Sure,” Klein said. “I’m a businessman. I know all about planning. Overhead, too. Like I said, we can help out.”

“Do you think it was an accident you ended up in this building?”

“No,” Klein said, shaking his head with exaggerated sincerity. “Your planning was good.”

“Better than you realize,” Safady said. “Satellite setup, alarm system, and electronic listening devices everywhere.” He gave a regretful sigh. “What was it you called us repeatedly? Oh yes, stupid camel jockeys.”

“I can explain,” Klein said.

“You don’t have a lot of time left. I’d use it in prayer instead.” Safady gave a mocking smile and lifted his hand again as if he were holding an imaginary pistol. He pointed it at Klein and pulled the trigger.

CCTI Headquarters, Tel Aviv • 9:51 GMT

“Don’t get too excited about the physical address,” Quinn told Hamer.

Hamer was holding a cup of coffee, just taken from the gourmet espresso machine in the kitchen of Quinn’s office suite, where he and Quinn stood.

“Come on. It’s his physical address. We can get men there, surround it. Me—I get excited about a break like this.”

“Putting IDF operatives in play would change this from a kidnapping situation to a hostage situation. More pressure.”

“You won’t have any say in this. I’ve got to pass this on to Zvi. He’ll make the decision to contain the terrorists.”

Quinn knew the politics well enough to know this was true. “You won’t find the Americans there anyway.”

“You’ve got the address. He’s been using his computer.”

“The address is an apartment in Jerusalem.”

Hamer frowned.

“Exactly,” Quinn said. “You don’t hold thirty people captive in an apartment.”

“He’s not in the apartment, but his computer is. That means we can wait till he goes back to use his computer and take him then.”

“All we can get from the gateway provider is the address of the account. Probably where he keeps his desktop computer. Say he jumps to it from a laptop via remote access.”

Hamer glared. “Keep piling on the optimism.”

“It’s not a dead end,” Quinn said. “Maybe there’s something in his apartment that will give you an idea. If you’re lucky, his desktop computer is there. Something on the hard drive might point you toward him. This was an organized operation. There’s got to be a trail.”

Hamer set his coffee down on a nearby counter. He hadn’t taken a sip. “If there is, we’ll find it. That’s a promise.”

20

Dayr al-Balah, Gaza Strip • 9:59 GMT

Patterson stood with his back to the wall beside a window. He held a small mirror at arm’s length, angled to let him watch the compound without showing his body at the window. The Palestinians approached the trucks with the wariness and silence of jackals skirting a wildebeest mired in mud. Fifteen, Patterson counted. Some held ground-to-air missile launchers, watching the sky in all directions. Patterson understood their caution. If this weapons cache had been tipped to IDF, for example, Israeli jets could swoop in. Thirty seconds from the first appearance of the jets on the horizon until the bombs cratered them.

The Palestinian leader waved them forward, and they advanced inside the compound. Half the men walked in backward, machine guns waist high, alert for danger.

Because of the briefing earlier, Patterson knew this was something Saxon had anticipated. Watching the Palestinians, it struck Patterson that Saxon’s intel was extraordinarily good. Since leaving Afghanistan, every part of this operation had proceeded without flaw. In a way, it seemed wrong. No combat mission was perfect.

Patterson dismissed the thought. It was not the time to wonder. He kept watching the Palestinians in the compound.

This was a tricky moment. While the unit essentially had the compound surrounded from hidden vantage points, Saxon didn’t want a protracted firefight. Nor did he want any of the Freedom Crusaders exposed unless it was necessary. If any of the Palestinians fled the compound too soon, the gunfire would have to begin too early.

Patterson found himself holding his breath, waiting for all the Palestinians to step inside an invisible perimeter.

Any second now . . .

CCTI Headquarters, Tel Aviv • 10:02 GMT

“CNN is reporting that Safady’s Web site was also posted in Arabic for the Muslim world to read,” Kate told Quinn. “It got millions of hits before it was shut down.”

“Public relations is part of any terrorist’s bag of weapons,” Quinn said. “They do a better job than a lot of American PR firms. What did you learn from Brad about the Web site content?”

“Not much,” Kate said. “We didn’t get too far into it before he went ballistic.”

“I’m not surprised.” Quinn glanced through the printout from the Web site, noting the boldfaced points. “Freedom Christian University. The television ministry. All that money and power. Men in those kinds of positions in ministry have a lot to lose by allowing an open debate on the merits of their theology.”

“Especially when that theology is based on racism,” Kate said. “On principle, I hate to agree with a terrorist. What do you think?”

“If this man is Safady, as he claims, he’s the one behind the bombing that destroyed my family,” Quinn said. “You can’t comprehend how strongly I believe the means to his end are utterly without justification. The fact that he’s a terrorist will smear whatever truth there might be in his accusations.”

She nodded. “Which implies you think there is a degree of truth in this.”

Quinn was very still, pulling his emotions together before replying. “I think Americans want to believe this is an irrelevant theology battle that basically doesn’t matter outside of church circles.”

“Except?”

“First, there’s a terrorist holding thirty Americans prisoner, and he’s obviously motivated by this, so by definition it’s not irrelevant to the situation. Second, Brad’s reaction is telling me that the accusations cut close to the bone. And third, as I told Brad, this has been a concern to us at CCTI for years.”

“Look at the headlines on the printout. They say this theology makes God a racist and a land broker and that evangelicals need to acknowledge their role in the oppression of Palestinians and the consequent reaction of terrorism.”

“Kate, a lot of Americans support Israel without understanding those implications. How much money do you think evangelicals have raised for Israel in the last twenty years?”

“Safady says 650 million. That staggers me.”

“Safady is wrong. Double it and you’re much closer. Christian groups have helped impoverished nations all across the world, with the major exception of Palestine. American Christians have given $1.5 billion to aid Israel—one of the richest nations in the world—billions more to other nations all across the world, and barely more than pennies to ease the wretched conditions in Palestine. Think Arabs don’t know this? Sends a clear message: God loves all people except them.”

“But suggesting this theology might be responsible for 9/11?”

“Perhaps in part. Remember what I said earlier. I have an interest in this because it affects Mideast geopolitics.”

“Hard to believe that theology would be more than, well, theology.”

“Tell that to extremists in the Muslim world who misinterpret the Koran to justify acts of terrorism.”

“Okay, I get what you’re saying. But Christian theology?”

“Remember when Brad said that those who bless Israel will be blessed and those who curse Israel will be cursed?”

“Yes.”

“That’s the dispensationalists’ viewpoint, and it reaches into the White House,” Quinn said. “Since Reagan, every American president has had to deal with it. Even for those who don’t believe it personally, it’s a major influence.”

BOOK: Fuse of Armageddon
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