Infringement Page 7

  “It’s quickly becoming a mess over here,” the man sitting next to Declan said as they both sat watching the news.

  “It definitely looks that way,” replied Declan, happy to have someone to talk to, if only to kill some time. “I wonder how long until we get our troops involved.”

  “We won’t get our troops involved this time, not to help the Israelis. No one will. This administration certainly hasn’t shown any love for the Israelis, and particularly not for the Prime Minister. They went out on their own against Iran, and will likely have to go it alone on this too.”

  “You don’t think the U.S. will just sit on the sidelines, do you? I mean, despite some obvious tension with the Israelis, they’re still our main ally in the region.”

  “I think if the administration were going to get involved directly and come to the Israelis’ aid, they’d have done it by now,” the man responded. “I think Israel is on our own this time.”

  “Are you Israeli?”

  “No, I live in Philadelphia, but I am Jewish and I have family living in Jerusalem, including both my sons and their families. I’m Joseph Steinman.”

  “Declan Parker,” said Declan, introducing himself.

  “A pleasure to meet you. Declan is an Irish name isn’t it?”

  “It is. I’m told that it was always one of my mom’s favorite names. She couldn’t get my dad to go for it when my older brother was born, but by the time I came along she’d worn him down.”

  “Are you Irish, I mean of Irish descent?”

  “Irish on my mom’s side, and English on my dad’s.”

  “An interesting combination.”

  “Yes, it is. It made for an entertaining childhood at times.”

  “I can imagine. Where are you heading?”

  “Nowhere. My girlfriend is coming in from D.C. for Christmas, so I’m here to pick her up, but her flight is delayed.”

  “Aren’t they all,” replied Mr. Steinman.

  “Are you traveling?”

  “I am. I’m headed home to Philly. I was out here for business this week. My oldest son and his family are supposed to fly in from Jerusalem tomorrow. I’m hoping they are still able to get out okay.”

  “Has Jerusalem been hit with any of the missile attacks?”

  “Nothing major so far, but with the attacks on Tel Aviv yesterday and what’s happening today, I’m obviously concerned.”

  “Understandably. It has to be difficult to have family in the midst of all that fighting.”

  “It is, and I fear it’s only going to get worse. Blowback from the Iran strike was expected, but with this escalation, and an absence of international support for Israel, I fear that things in the region are going to get really ugly really quickly. I don’t think we’re too far from seeing Syria employ chemical or biological weapons of some sort.”

  “I didn’t think the Syrians had any left. I thought they had to give them all up at one point quite a while ago.”

  “Trust me, they still have them. That was a bit of a debacle. Regardless, with all the chaos in that country since the civil war began and with ISIS holding areas of the country, who knows where all the chemical weapons went or to whom they went.”

  “If that happened, if Syria, ISIS, or someone else used chemical weapons, do you think Israel would respond with chemical weapons of their own?”

  “No, I think their response would, eventually, be nuclear. Israel has always been very clear that a chemical attack will be viewed in the same light as a nuclear attack and treated as such. My guess is that if the Syrians, or anyone else, launched a chemical attack, the nuclear option, for the first time, would truly be on the table. If that happened, if things escalate to that point, I think we could very well see the prophet Isaiah’s words regarding Damascus come to pass in the near future.”

  Somewhat surprised by the comment, Declan replied, “That’s what my brother said yesterday too. He told me about the destruction of Damascus in Isaiah something… I can’t remember the chapter right now.”

  “Isaiah 17, the prophecy is found in Isaiah 17.”

  “I read it yesterday afternoon, but wasn’t entirely sure what it meant.”

  “It means that Damascus, the oldest continually inhabited city in the world, will be reduced to a heap of rubble in one night and will never again be a city. That sounds to me like something a nuclear strike would accomplish.”

  “I agree,” said Declan, taking a sip from his beer. “But, do you really believe the prophecy? I mean, do you really think Isaiah could know about something that was supposed to happen thousands of years after he lived?”

  “If you’d asked me that question when I was younger, when I was your age, I’d have said no. But, over the years, as I’ve come to know God’s word through the Torah and the Bible I’m absolutely certain in its truth. I’ve specifically studied the Old Testament prophecies concerning the Messiah and cannot deny that each and every one of the three hundred plus prophecies addressing his first coming was fulfilled just as God told us it would through His prophets. Do you know the odds of even ten or eleven of those prophecies being fulfilled by one man?”

  “Not really.”

  “They’re truly staggering. To put it in perspective, you’d have a better chance of winning Powerball three times in a row. God is the ultimate, unrivaled mathematician.”

  “So, and I hope I’m not overstepping by asking this, but do you believe in Jesus as the Messiah?”

  “Absolutely,” Mr. Steinman responded.

  “But you’re Jewish?”

  “I am, but I’m also a believer in Jesus, much like the Apostles and many of the early church. I guess you’d call me a Jewish Christian or a Messianic Jew.”

  “Interesting. And you believe this Isaiah prophecy is yet to be fulfilled, like my brother said?”

  “I certainly do. It’s the word of the God of Israel. God tells us that He gives us the end from the beginning, as only He can, and one of the things that distinguishes God from the world is that He never lies. His words are, quite simply, truth. Anyone who undertakes a serious, honest study of Biblical prophecy can only reach one conclusion, which is that God’s word is one hundred percent accurate, one hundred percent of the time. The prophets, whether Isaiah, Ezekiel, Jeremiah or Daniel were truly speaking God’s word, telling us about things that would happen in such detail that they could only have come from the supernatural. Would you like a wonderful example, something that will truly blow your mind?”

  “Sure, I mean, if you don’t mind talking about it. I don’t want to hold you up or anything.”

  “Not at all. My flight isn’t supposed to leave for another three hours and I’ve spent far too many years avoiding or ignoring opportunities to speak with people about the things of God. Are you familiar with Jewish history?”

  “Somewhat.”

  “Alright, Babylon’s rule over Judah began in 609 B.C. Jerusalem and Judah fell to the Babylonians, specifically to Nebuchadnezzar, in 586 B.C. This was prophesied by Isaiah, who lived from roughly 740 B.C. to 681 B.C., as well as by Jeremiah and Ezekiel later. I forget the specific verses in Isaiah, but look at Isaiah 2, Isaiah 5, and Isaiah 6 to see for yourself. But, that’s not the most impressive part. In Isaiah 44 and 45, he tells the Jews, over a hundred years before they’ve even gone into Babylonian captivity mind you, that they will be returned to the land, to Jerusalem, by Cyrus. Isaiah specifically gives the name of Cyrus.”

  “Okay,” Declan responded with evident interest.

  “And, sure enough, in 538 B.C., Cyrus the Great, King of the Medo-Persians, who conquered the Babylonians a year prior, issued a decree allowing the Jews to return to their homeland, to Jerusalem and Judah, just as Isaiah said would happen over a hundred and fifty years earlier, long before Cyrus the Great had even been born and before the Medo-Persian empire had come to prominence. Is that not amazing?”

  “It is.”

  “And that’s just one of hundreds of examples,” Mr. Steinman said as
he raised his glass. “So, as I said before, I believe without hesitation in God’s word.”

  _______________________

  As the night slowly gave way to the freshness of a new morning, Declan sat up in bed unable to sleep. The rhythm of Megan’s breathing, soundly asleep next to him, danced over the silence of the fading night. He took in every inch of her in the dim blue moonlight, lying beside him in the place he’d feared she’d never be again, and for the first time in a long time he knew, for whatever reason, he’d been blessed. There was no accounting for why; no earthly explanation for her sudden unexpected change of heart. Less than 48 hours earlier Megan had no place in his life, or, more precisely, he’d no longer had a place in hers. Yet, there she was, glowing beside him again, filling his miniscule world with the overwhelming light found only amid love.

  As Declan thought about it, it was the reemergence of Megan into his life, as much as anything he’d heard from his brother or his random encounter with Joseph Steinman earlier that night, which guided him to the prospect that, maybe, just maybe, God really did still exist.

  Chapter 17

  December 23rd

  “So you’re leaving me for the day,” Megan said, playfully pulling the sheet over her chest.

  “Not for the day. That would be impossible. Actually, if it weren’t for this meeting with Bleeker, I wouldn’t go in at all.”

  “It’s fine, babe, for a few hours anyway. It’ll give me a chance to get a few things done and off my mysteriously always full plate.”

  “I promise, I won’t be long. I’m meeting with Bleeker at 10:30, and should be home by noon. Then we can go grab some lunch and do a little Christmas shopping.”

  “I’m not entirely certain I’ll be dressed for lunch by noon,” she replied.

  “I certainly hope not.”

  “You’re making me blush, Special Agent Parker.”

  “Good.”

  Declan leaned over the bed to kiss Megan goodbye. “I love you,” he said.

  “I love you too.”

  “See you soon?”

  “I’ll literally be right here where you left me.”

  _______________________

  David Stanton stood bathed in the deep cobalt light being dispersed through one of the towering stained glass images of the Apostle Paul, his mop gliding from left to right over and again across the last section of shimmering marble floor. Once he’d finished mopping, Stanton went through each row of pews, making sure each had sufficient hymnals and Christmas programs, and that they were properly placed and aligned.

  With that task complete, Stanton took his iPad out and accessed the live feed on his website. He walked slowly through the sanctuary, beginning from the podium and checked to make sure each camera feed was picking him up and that the picture quality and buffering were still superb, with no hitches or delays from the camera feeds to the images online.

  “Soon,” he whispered to himself. “Soon this place will be known to the whole world. Soon I’ll be known to the world, never to be forgotten or discounted again.”

  Stanton walked slowly, almost triumphantly though the sanctuary, taking in the silence and peacefulness around him, the play of the sun’s light through the stained glass windows, imagining what it would look and sound like when he finally made himself known to its patrons.

  “It looks wonderful, David,” came a voice behind him.

  “Thank you, Pastor,” Stanton replied as he turned around.

  “Seriously, David, I can’t ever remember the church looking better. You’ve outdone yourself.”

  “Thank you.”

  “It’s a truly fitting atmosphere for celebrating the birth of our Lord.”

  “I agree, Pastor. I wanted it to be perfect.”

  “Well, you’ve certainly succeeded.”

  Chapter 18

  December 23rd

  “Come in, Parker. I’m on my own today. Ellen took off yesterday for the holidays. Are you going anywhere?”

  “No, sir. All my family is here.”

  “That’s beneficial this time of year, if no other,” replied Bleeker. “I always hate dealing with the holiday travel routine.”

  “Are you heading home, sir?”

  “No, not this year. Frankly, I just couldn’t do it again this year,” Bleeker replied as he took a seat behind his meticulously organized desk. “It’s too much hassle. Anyway, let’s get down to the business of David Stanton, shall we?”

  “Of course.”

  “Unfortunately, at this point I don’t have much new information. I had Costello watch his place last night, and he witnessed no movement.”

  “What about your contact at Homeland and the SCI?”

  Bleeker leaned well back in his leather chair and looked up toward the ceiling. “Believe it or not, I was getting to that. My classmate at Homeland was already out for the holidays, in Europe somewhere apparently. I left him a message on his cell to call me. I didn’t say what it was in reference to. So far, no response. I did put in a call to the regional fusion center, like you did, and confirmed that Stanton is, in fact, SCI by putting in my own PRISM request. Unfortunately, I’m not on the access list either, so I didn’t make any progress there.”

  “I see.”

  “So, at this point I know about as much as you.”

  “Which is to say, not much,” Declan replied.

  “Well, not much yet; however, I’m hoping I can get some additional intel from my contact. I just don’t know that I’ll have it today.”

  “So what do we do in the meantime? Have you reconsidered a surveillance detail, or maybe a drone surveillance unit?”

  “Actually, I’m still of the mind that we hold tight for a few more days.”

  “But, sir,…”

  Bleeker stood up again and began slowly pacing behind his desk. “We’ve already been through this and I understand your position, Parker; however, from what I’ve seen so far, there doesn’t appear to be an imminent threat here. Further, if someone has tagged this guy SCI, then in all likelihood that someone is already watching him. Adding our own surveillance detail, aside from being duplicative, could end up actually being detrimental to whatever type of investigation is possibly already underway.”

  “But we aren’t certain there is an investigation underway. I’ve watched Stanton’s apartment for a few nights now and I’ve never seen any indication that anyone else was watching him too.”

  “Look, Parker, I appreciate your enthusiasm and determination on this, but if the guy is SCI, he’s SCI for a reason. Call me crazy, but I’m willing to make the educated assumption that whoever tagged him knows what they are doing, and I’m not willing, nor do I think it’s necessary at this point, to get my field office officially involved.”

  “In other words, leave it alone?”

  “Well said. Yes, leave it alone, at least until I hear back from my contact at Homeland and have more intel to work with.”

  Chapter 19

  December 23rd

  Declan had no intention of simply leaving David Stanton alone. His dad certainly wouldn’t have let it alone. While he’d only been with the Bureau, outside of the Academy, for just over a year, his gut knew enough to know something wasn’t right with the whole situation. Initially, he was absolutely certain that car in the parking lot two nights prior scared Stanton away from whatever he’d had in mind.

  More importantly, Declan couldn’t figure out what reason John Bleeker would have for pretending he didn’t have access to Stanton’s NSA and Homeland files, when Declan knew otherwise. If Stanton were a suspected domestic terrorist or somehow involved in or part of an NSA, CIA or Homeland operation or investigation, why didn’t Bleeker just say so? Something about the entire scenario didn’t sit well, and Declan couldn’t just sit aside and trust Bleeker to follow up, particularly when Bleeker was clearly lying about his access to Stanton’s files.

  After leaving Bleeker’s office, Declan headed down to the field office supply division, where he c
hecked out various pieces of remote audio surveillance equipment under the auspices of using it for his ongoing investigation into an interstate methamphetamine ring he’d been working on. The equipment was relatively small and could be used from a car or other vehicle. One piece of equipment would allow Declan to pick up any cellular transmissions and conversations within a 200 foot radius, and the other was capable of obtaining and recording live audio from Stanton’s apartment, provided Declan could get within 50 to 70 feet, which was exactly what he planned to do later that night.

  _______________________

  David Stanton finished up his morning work and took his lunch and iPad out to his SUV, where he turned on the engine and heater to warm things up. The day had turned dramatically colder, with the temperature dropping down to 20 degrees F throughout the morning.

  Stanton was both exhilarated and exhausted, given his lack of sleep the two previous nights. He took a few bites of his turkey sandwich and a couple sips from his can of diet soda. The cold soda fizzed around the roof of his mouth, providing a pleasant tingling sensation. He laid his head back against the driver’s headrest and closed his eyes. The time of his complete surrender to Abaddon was nearly upon him. He’d made all the necessary preparations, had polished and perfected his equipment, and had proven himself worthy of the task that had been set before him. It was, quite simply, a matter of execution from that point forward. Stanton knew he needed a good sleep, along with sufficient nutrients and fuel to prepare his body for Abaddon’s arrival. After that, it was simply a matter of maintaining his focus and letting his master use him to accomplish the ultimate goal.

  It was so close, Stanton could finally taste it. The years of planning, pain and frustration had finally brought him to the verge of earning his due, his reward for staying true and obedient to his master’s plan and direction. At the end of the rainbow, so to speak, Stanton’s second chance sat waiting. The blood that had flown, and was to flow still, had purchased him redemption, a new life free of the misery and scars he’d carried for the majority of his years. Soon, very soon, David Stanton would cease to exist. He’d die the death he’d so often prayed for as a little boy and be reborn as Abaddon, the all-powerful Destroyer. In destruction, he’d finally find rebirth.