Infringement
Infringement
A Novel
BENJAMIN WESTBROOK
Visit Benjamin Westbrook’s website at www.benjaminwestbrook.com
Follow Benjamin Westbrook on Twitter: @BKWestbrook
Infringement
Copyright © 2014 by Benjamin Westbrook.
All rights reserved.
Cover design by Andrew Figel.
Scripture quotations taken from The Holy Bible, New International Version, ® NIV. ® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc. ™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. www.zondervan.com
ISBN 978-0-9862136-0-1 (Mobi)
978-0-9862136-1-8 (EPub)
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
PART I
Chapter 1 • Chapter 2
Chapter 3 • Chapter 4
Chapter 5 • Chapter 6
Chapter 7 • Chapter 8
Chapter 9 • Chapter 10
Chapter 11 • Chapter 12
Chapter 13 • Chapter 14
Chapter 15 • Chapter 16
Chapter 17 • Chapter 18
Chapter 19 • Chapter 20
Chapter 21 • Chapter 22
Chapter 23 • Chapter 24
Chapter 25 • Chapter 26
Chapter 27 • Chapter 28
Chapter 29 • Chapter 30
Chapter 31 • Chapter 32
Chapter 33 • Chapter 34
Chapter 35 • Chapter 36
Chapter 37 • Chapter 38
Chapter 39
PART II
Chapter 40 • Chapter 41
Chapter 42 • Chapter 43
Chapter 44 • Chapter 45
Chapter 46 • Chapter 47
Chapter 48 • Chapter 49
Chapter 50 • Chapter 51
Chapter 52 • Chapter 53
Chapter 54 • Chapter 55
Chapter 56 • Chapter 57
Chapter 58 • Chapter 59
Chapter 60 • Chapter 61
Chapter 62 • Chapter 63
Chapter 64 • Chapter 65
Chapter 66 • Chapter 67
Chapter 68 • Chapter 69
Chapter 70 • Chapter 71
Chapter 72 • Chapter 73
About the Author
For My Family
Above all else, trust God,
and never, never, never give up
Preface from the Author:
When I began writing this novel, my purpose was twofold. First, utilizing a fictional medium, to examine an array of current events through the lens of biblical prophecy and, in some cases, introduce the reader to the Bible more generally. The second purpose, again through a fictional medium, was to try and come to an understanding of what it truly means to put one’s trust in God.
During the course of the year, my life experienced a jolt that I never saw coming in the form of a cancer diagnosis within my immediate family. Needless to say, my life and the lives of my family members, changed forever in an instant.
Prior to cancer invading our lives, trusting in God was something I wanted to do. Trust was a concept I was interested in putting into practice. It sounded great, but I was always holding something back from God. In short, I really didn’t understand what “putting one’s trust in the Lord alone” really meant, although I was attempting to write a novel about that very thing.
While I certainly wouldn’t have ever volunteered to take the road my family and I are now traveling, I do view it as a blessing in many ways, because, through cancer, I finally came to know faith and trust. I came to see that the only aspect of one’s life he or she truly has control over is his or her faith. Because I simply had no other choice, I came to understand that putting my trust in God meant holding nothing back. It meant giving myself and my life over completely to God, never doubting, even during the toughest times, His faithfulness to His Word. It meant counting on His strength and His peace, because my own paltry strength was totally inadequate, and I had no peace on my own. Ultimately, trust meant being joyful in all circumstances, even the most seemingly dire, and knowing, beyond any doubt that God is faithful and trustworthy because of who He is, not because of who I am. This is the lesson cancer has taught me this year, and for that lesson, I am grateful.
My main character, Declan Parker, finds himself on a similar path in this story. Declan’s times are dark, his circumstances difficult. There is evil in the world, even at his front door, but with trust in God, there is joy and peace.
Maranatha.
Benjamin Westbrook
PART I
“They had as king over them the angel of the Abyss, whose name in Hebrew is Abaddon and in Greek is Apollyon (that is, Destroyer)”
Revelation 9:11
Chapter 1
December 15th
He worked deliberately and meticulously atop the short ladder in the dark, quietly screwing into place the last of the four bright red “Exit” signs to be replaced. As far back as he could remember, he’d been a night person. He enjoyed working in the darkness, amid the silence and solitude one typically found during the late night hours when most were asleep. There were fewer distractions at night, no people to get in his way or take up his time with their generally meaningless chatter.
He turned the last screw firmly into place, quietly, one rotation after another until the metal screw squeaked against the metal bracket and it could go no further. After he’d finished, he scanned the sign to be certain it was perfectly even, gave each of the four screws another quick turn to verify they were tight, and gently nudged the “Exit” sign from each side to be absolutely sure it was securely in place. Satisfied with his work, he then turned the power switch to “On” and removed his night vision goggles to see the four red letters glowing in the darkness above the doorway. He stepped slowly and quietly down from the ladder, careful not to misstep, and walked to the center of the semi-circular sanctuary where he had a clear view of each of the four “Exit” signs he’d installed. As he’d planned, the new signs looked, in all respects, exactly like the four he’d replaced, except for the tiny HD video camera in each. The camera, located just to the right of the “T”, was totally indiscernible from a distance, unless someone knew to look for it.
Eager to test the new signs, he made his way toward the last row of pews nearest the main entrance of the sanctuary, where he’d left his laptop. He opened the laptop and deftly pulled up the admin page of his website, which was still under construction and hadn’t gone live yet. He clicked on the “Live Webcams” link, which took him to another page split into four window panes, one for each video camera in the “Exit” signs he’d installed. Three of the panes were completely dark, which was expected given the darkness of the sanctuary. The fourth pane, which showed the video feed from the camera in the sign above the main entrance, featured the dim light of his laptop. He couldn’t test the camera views completely until he could return during the day, but he knew, together, they should stream a full 360 degree live view of the sanctuary to his website.
Unable to wait until morning, he decided a small test was in order, so he took his iPad out of his backpack and pulled up his website there as well. Once he’d again accessed the page showing the live webcam feeds from the four “Exit” signs, he walked slowly to the center of the sanctuary, holding his iPad close to his face in order to illuminate it slightly. As he walked toward the main pulpit area, he watched each of the camera views on his iPad, to see when each camera pick
ed up the dim light and his faint silhouette. Although not ideal, it was a sufficient test for the time being, and just seeing his dim silhouette from the cameras’ views gave him a distinct and very pleasing sense of excitement.
Once he arrived at the pulpit area in the center front of the sanctuary, he stepped up the few small marble steps to the main stage, and saw each camera feed had picked up the light from his iPad. From anywhere on the pulpit, he’d be perfectly visible to all four cameras in full light.
He shut down his iPad, leaving the sanctuary pitch black again but for the red light from the “Exit” signs, and slid his night vision goggles back on over his eyes. The pews fanned out in a semi-circle from the large stage, thirty rows deep. He stood in the center of the pulpit, where the preacher typically gave his sermon and prepared communion, and enjoyed an unobstructed view of the entire sanctuary. With his goggles on, he carefully scanned each section of the empty and otherwise dark pews, beginning with those on his left side, until he’d gone through them all one by one. Then, he again removed the goggles and closed his eyes, letting the perfect darkness clear his mind.
He stood facing the pews directly in front of him with his eyes closed tightly, his breath slow and measured. His mind began to focus, his imagination came alive, and one by one the pews were populated with faces. Soon, the faces, some familiar and others not, filled every corner of the almost bursting sanctuary. From the pulpit, he watched them talking to one another, greeting and hugging each other. He heard them chattering back and forth before services began, joking with one another, and laughing. He sensed their warmth, their excitement, their joy. His eyes still closed, he turned slowly and deliberately from his left to his right, watching them intently and letting their faces burn into his memory. He wanted to remember them, to know the joy on their faces down to the very smallest detail, so that when he finally raised his rifle and began spilling their blood onto the glittering marble sanctuary floor, he’d be able to recognize the precise instant when the careless joy in each face turned to horror and fear.
Chapter 2
December 17th
“Hey Kev, are you heading out soon?”
“Another hour or so probably. You?”
“On my way out now,” Declan responded. “I’m meeting my buddy Dan over at McNulty’s for a few drinks and to watch the game for a bit. You want to meet us over there?”
“Sure, I’ll come by when I finish up here.”
“What are you working on?”
“Just my report on the Slater matter. Nothing major, but I want to get it put to bed before we get into full-on holiday mode.”
“Gotcha. Alright, I’ll see you at McNulty’s,” Declan said as he finished buttoning up his coat. He made sure his computer had powered down, picked up his backpack, and headed toward the elevators, when his desk phone rang.
“Damn… I’d better get it,” he said, and reluctantly backtracked to his desk. “This is Special Agent Parker.”
“Agent Parker, this is Detective Norman, Roger Norman.”
“What can I do for you Detective?”
“Well, we received an anonymous call a little while ago expressing concern about a David Timothy Stanton. Are you familiar with the name?”
“No, I don’t think so. Should I be?”
“Probably not. I only ask because this is the second call we’ve received about him. The first call came in, anonymously, a few weeks ago. Per protocol, I contacted your field office and passed the info on to another agent. Let’s see, my notes say I spoke with Special Agent Costello.”
“I know Agent Costello.”
“Good. Well, like I said, I gave the info we received on Stanton to Special Agent Costello and never heard anything back. I didn’t even really think about it again until a follow up call came in tonight. One of our desk officers took the call.”
“What’s the nature of the complaint?”
“The caller says he thinks Stanton has some radical and dangerous political leanings.”
“Such as?”
“The caller was pretty vague, but essentially said Stanton has some of the standard wacko political views. I think his exact words were something to the effect that the country is rotten and morally corrupt and disease filled, plagued with a cancerous government and brain dead populace who should basically be eradicated.”
“Well, that makes him about one of a million or so other nut jobs out there. Frankly, it doesn’t sound like anything out of the ordinary so far. Just another disgruntled misfit with a big mouth.”
“I agree. I ran Stanton through our system and he came back clean, no record at all. But, since we’ve received two calls now, and, things being as they are lately with the new legislation and Homeland Security mandates, we’re required to pass along anything and everything of a potential terrorist nature to the Feds, so that’s what I’m doin’.”
“I understand. Like I said, it doesn’t sound like anything based upon what little info the caller provided, but I’ll run a check. You said this guy’s name is Stanton, David Timothy?”
“That’s right. His date of birth is July 22, 1982, and his address is 9292 Parkside Ave., Apartment B.”
Declan wrote down the information. “Do you know whether it was the same caller both times, Detective?”
“That’s my understanding.”
“Did the caller leave a call back number or any way to contact him, or her?”
“Him,” Detective Norman replied, “and no, nothing.”
“Did he say what his relationship to Stanton is?”
“Nope. He just gave us what I’ve given you and expressed his concern about Stanton’s general disdain for congress, the president and essentially everything related to the government. I suspect he’s a neighbor or co-worker. Like I said, I’m passing this to you guys because we’re required to, but I’d be surprised if anything comes of it.”
“I’ll run him through our systems and records anyway, and talk with Costello. Because of the first call, we should at least have a report in our system. I’ll look into it and get back to you tomorrow.”
“Sounds good. Have a good night.”
Declan set his notes from the call on top of his computer keyboard, again picked up his backpack, and headed out for the night.
_______________________
But for the blue screen on the high definition monitor, Stanton’s apartment was pitch black. He inserted a homemade black video game DVD into his computer and waited for the program he’d developed and programmed to boot up. After ten seconds or so, the blue screen turned black and the title “ABADDON – The Destroyer” appeared on the screen in an intentionally ominous red font. Below the title was the word “Play”, which he clicked on and picked up his game controller.
The title screen graphically faded completely into red, which gradually dripped off the screen, like blood, revealing a digitally animated black Ford SUV slowly driving into a busy parking lot. The driver of the SUV, the game’s hero, parked and sat for a few moments, watching the last few well-dressed animated characters hurry through the lightly falling snow into a large white stone building. The sound of chiming bells came through loudly over the muffled chatter of the other game characters remaining in the parking lot.
The clock on the console of the hero’s SUV read 5:00, then 5:01, then, a minute later, 5:02. The digital hero simply sat in his car, watching the snow fall outside, until the clock finally read 5:10, at which point he stepped out of the car. The game’s hero was a tall, buff, imposing figure, dressed in a sharp black suit. He was ruggedly handsome, and, by design, very reminiscent of Daniel Craig’s James Bond.
Using the game controller, David Stanton took control of the game’s hero, Abaddon, and walked him to the back of the SUV, where he clicked a button on the controller which prompted Abaddon to open the rear door. Three black duffle bags sat in the back. With a click, the character opened one. Another insert screen popped up, featuring a timer, which the digital hero set to 5:26, and
then zipped the bag back up. With another click of the controller, Abaddon reached in and quickly slung the other two black bags over his shoulders, and closed the back of the SUV.
He walked briskly across the parking lot to the rear of the church, where he waited until 5:17. At that point, Stanton’s hero made his way to easternmost of the three main building entrances, removed a key from his pocket and locked the deadbolt from the outside. He then looped a chain through the door handles, and locked it. Abaddon then moved swiftly to the entrance on the opposite side, repeating the same process, and went back to the main double door entrance at the building’s center. Stanton clicked the controller again, and Abaddon locked the deadbolt to the center doors and threaded a third chain through the two door handles and locked it together with a padlock.
Abaddon quickly made his way to the back of the church. When he reached the back entrance, he removed his coat and opened the bag, from which he took out a black tactical vest, loaded with four ammunition magazines and a 9mm semi-automatic. After putting on the vest, he pulled out two AR-15 semi-automatic rifles, one with a 60 round magazine and the other loaded with a 100 round drum magazine. Finally, he removed a black magazine belt, containing four additional 60 round magazines, which he strapped on below the vest.
Finally ready, he opened the rear door slowly and quietly, then slipped inside and locked the door behind him. The sounds of a choir singing “Oh Come All Ye’ Faithful” came clearly through Stanton’s computer speakers. Digital Abaddon stood in the hallway directly behind the main sanctuary, a few feet away from a closed door which provided direct access to the pulpit.
Stanton’s fingers caressed the controller as he consciously steadied his excited breathing. He felt the adrenaline surging through his body, until he finally maneuvered his digital hero through the door and onto the pulpit in the midst of the service. He quickly spotted the pastor and his assistant and with a flurry of taps on the controller and “rat-tat, rat-tat, rat-tat”, took them both down. The sound of gunfire rang through the sanctuary and he immediately turned his full attention to the congregation in the pews and opened fire indiscriminately. The animated congregation scrambled in all directions, falling left and right while a red counter in the upper left of the screen, which had begun at zero, kept count of fatalities. Stanton deftly moved Abaddon from side to side, shooting down the men who tried to rush him on the stage. He moved from one side to another, firing in a semi-circle at the characters rushing for the locked exits. Screams flowed out of Stanton’s computer speakers, mixed with the “rat-tat, rat-tat, rat-tat” of his assault rifles. The fatality count quickly reached 38 and continued to climb with each round fired: 39, 40, 41, 42.