Infringement
Authors: Benjamin Westbrook
Tags: #Novel, #Fiction, #bible, #prophecy, #second, #amendment, #Christian, #Suspense, #speculative, #thriller, #ferguson, #book, #story, #biblical, #Declan, #Israel, #Isaiah, #revelation, #Iran, #Middle East
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.
For My Family
Above all else, trust God,
and never, never, never give up
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
“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
December 15
th
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 picked 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.
December 17
th
“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’.”
