Rise of the Fallen (39 page)

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Authors: Chuck Black

BOOK: Rise of the Fallen
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Brandt had a way of dismantling an argument or a petition before it was out of the mouth of the one making the plea.

His eyes gleamed. “Apollyon meant to destroy the remnant of Israel and decimate the Jews, but Elohim will turn his own devices back upon him. The prophecies talk about the restoration of the nation of Israel.”

Validus froze. He considered what Brandt was implying and was stunned. He shook his head. “How is that possible? Hitler killed millions of Jews, the rest are dispersed throughout the world, and their land is occupied by their fierce enemies. It would take another two thousand years just to put it all back together.”

Brandt stared at Validus. “Because of the conflict between the Jews and Palestinian Arabs there, the British government is ready to withdraw their influence from the region.
What better time than now to give Israel the wings of a great eagle?

Brandt’s words hit Validus like a brick, for they were words of prophecy straight from the writings of John the Revelator. General Brandt was not only a brilliant warrior but an angel of faith and vision.

Validus was both excited and ashamed. He knew it was time to fully embrace Brandt’s philosophies and strategies. Perhaps he would be given one of the thousands of churches or even a city to protect.

“I understand, sir. Who will I be serving under?”

Brandt looked at Validus with narrowed eyes. He stepped closer. “No one. We lost Primus Commander Rallon. You will be the new commander of the northern forces in the western hemisphere.”

Validus swallowed hard. North America—all of it!

“But, General, I—”

“You are well suited for the job, and it’s time we utilized you for more than tracing names on paper. Your regional commanders have already been briefed and are awaiting your arrival.”

Validus lowered his gaze. He was not worthy, not ready. How could he command an entire continent? There were other warriors much more qualified than he.

As a dozen excuses swept across his mind, he thought of Elohim’s words from four thousand years ago.
“You will serve, Validus, and you will lead.”

Validus filled his lungs and steeled his heart. “Yes sir. What are your directives?”

General Brandt nodded, then turned and walked away. “The world is in chaos after the war of the Antichrist, and humanity is changing and developing rapidly, just as the Holy Scriptures have foretold. This is the beginning of the end, Validus. It’s time to prepare for the End of Days.”

Brandt circled to the opposite side of his desk and leaned over a map of the world. It was an elaborate layout that depicted current warrior forces of both Elohim and Apollyon. He swiped his hand across the map, and the symbology transformed into a layout depicting human governments annotated with symbols
indicating physical and spiritual strengths, leaders, policies, and potential future influences.

He swiped his hand once more, and bright red symbols appeared, representing churches with strength numbers, mission notes, leaders, and regions of influence. It was overwhelming, but Brandt seemed to grasp it all. Validus quickly came to appreciate the genius of the angel.

“In spite of Desgard’s attempt to eradicate the Jewish people through his Final Solution, the prophecy of Israel reborn is close. I can feel it. Elohim will turn the Fallen’s evil plot against them.” General Brandt looked up at Validus with a fire in his eyes. “America will play a key role in bringing this prophecy to fulfillment.” His eyes narrowed. “Washington, DC, is where this battle will play out. President Truman could be the key to the fulfillment of this prophecy. Protect the men and women who are advancing the cause of the rebirth of Israel. Many are saints listening to Ruach Elohim, so you must guard them and ensure the success of their calling. Do whatever is necessary to make it happen. Our window of opportunity is short. Do you understand?”

“Yes, General.”

“Good. Hulan will be your executive officer and will bring you up to speed when you arrive.”

“I’d like to request Persimus to serve on my staff, sir.”

Brandt shook his head. “That’s not possible. I have other duties for him. There are other warriors you can count on already on staff.”

Validus was disappointed, but it didn’t sound like Brandt was giving any room for negotiation. He snapped a salute and turned to leave.

“Validus,” General Brandt called.

Validus turned.

“I’m sorry about General Danick. The loss is heavy for us all.”

Validus nodded, then exited the room.

37
 
TWICE FALLEN

Present Day

Validus left Chicago. Once beyond the suburbs, he morphed his wings and took flight. He flew across the southern states of America toward the southern continent.

His quest was to find Tinsalik Barob, one of the few who might have information about why the Fallen were so focused on destroying Drew Carter. If Validus knew why they wanted him dead, it would give him an advantage in knowing how to protect his charge.

Validus faced numerous challenges, however. No one knew where on earth Barob hid himself, and Barob himself was one of the Fallen. In fact, he was twice fallen, for he had also lost favor with Apollyon.

The strange thing about Barob was that he knew things about both sides. He was like Switzerland in World War II. His currency was information, and he perfectly navigated the seam in which both the Fallen and Elohim’s angels operated.

Though isolated from the forces of Apollyon, there was still nothing good in him or about him. In spite of his occasional usefulness to Apollyon, it was a mystery why the Prince of Darkness allowed his defection. Others had tried to flee Apollyon’s grisly rule and were sent to the Abyss by the sword of their master.

Validus flew across Panama and then southeast toward Sao Paulo, Brazil, the largest city on the South American continent. He couldn’t help feeling the oppression of poverty in this land. Glimmering lights of hope surrounded by oceans of darkness.

He had known Primus Commander Sorak for centuries. They had fought together at Babylon in the great battle against the Prince of Persia. Sorak had
been the commander of the southern continent for over a millennia now. Validus didn’t envy his job of trying to keep evil in check as the drug supply and demand exploded in the past century. It had become a major economic supply for many poverty-stricken regions. Supplying the US and Europe with drugs was such a lucrative business that often the authorities themselves fell prey to its temptation.

Validus set down on the promenade of the Sao Paulo Cathedral. There were dozens of other angels approaching and entering the cathedral from various directions, but his approach caught the attention of three warriors standing guard at the front entrance. Once they recognized him, they snapped to attention.

“Ah …”—the captain searched for the right title—“Commander Validus, we were not expecting you. Is there—”

“It’s all right, Captain. My visit was not scheduled, but I need to see Commander Sorak.”

“Yes sir. Please wait here.”

The captain disappeared, and within just a few moments, Sorak appeared with the captain in tow.

“Commander Validus, come. It’s good to see you again.”

Technically Validus was no longer a commander, but Sorak honored him by the title just the same. Since his mission was kept secret, Validus could imagine the speculation throughout the ranks as to why he had been relieved of his command.

Sorak ushered Validus through the massive neogothic nave that reminded Validus a little of the Hall of Vision in Zion. Deep in his gut something turned. His thoughts of home hurt, and he wondered if Persimus felt this way all the time. He missed his friend of old. He hadn’t seen him since he had taken command of North America.

They walked down to the crypt, where a full angelic headquarters was bustling with activity. There was a constant flow of angel warriors in and out of the surrounding walls. The vaulted ceilings, marbled floors, and columns seemed a perfect place for a headquarters, except for the constant flow of people.

Sorak seemed to notice Validus’s distraction by the tourists. “You get used to it. You learn to tune them out,” he said with a smile. “Besides, it reminds me a little of home … a little.”

At the top of the last set of stairs, Sorak stopped. He turned, and Validus could see the sober fight of a thousand years etched in his face.

“How goes the battle to the north?” Sorak asked.

“It’s tough.” Validus shook his head. “Commander Malak is doing a fine job, but the line is being drawn, and the distinction between the masses is no longer blurred. Do you feel it here?”

Sorak’s eyes turned toward his command center. He nodded. “So many people … so little time.”

“Yes. How are you holding out against the Fallen?”

“Well enough. Apollyon has changed his commander here so often it’s hard to keep track of who we’re fighting.” Sorak let a slight grin light his face. “In spite of the darkness, the Spirit of Elohim is working in the hearts of the saints. There is passion to fuel our fight, and we are strengthened by Elohim because of their prayers. I believe there will be a revival here before the end.”

Validus smiled. “Won’t it be glorious?”

Sorak cocked his head to the side. “I’m quite curious as to why the former commander of the North American continent has made an unscheduled, unescorted visit to my headquarters. You ought to be careful. It can get pretty nasty here, especially if you get close to the favelas.”

Each of the major cities of Brazil had hundreds of favelas, or slums. Millions of desperate people and thousands of gangs. The favelas were also the central operating hubs of the Fallen’s worst demons. Guns, drugs, sex trafficking—any and every sin man could think of and thousands of darkened spiritual influences to advance it all.

“I’m hoping you might be able to help me.”

“Brandt wouldn’t tell me much about you or your mission.” Sorak waited, but Validus stayed silent. “And I guess you won’t either, but if there’s any way I can help, my command is at your disposal.”

Validus searched Sorak’s eyes, then nodded his gratitude. “Actually, Commander, since you offered, I’m hoping you can help me find someone. Tinsalik Barob.”

Sorak stared straight at Validus, his expression inscrutable. Finally he shook his head. “Validus, you don’t want to mess with that. Surely whatever you are doing, whatever you are looking for, there must be another way.”

Validus had thought the same thing a hundred times, but Elohim had
chosen not to reveal the mystery of Drew Carter. There seemed no other way to discover why the Fallen were set on destroying him. They probably knew by now that Carter had a special ability to see into their realm, but there had to be something else driving them, and Validus had to find out what it was.

“I’ve considered every possibility, and I keep coming back to Barob.” Validus took a deep breath. “I have to do this. Time is short, and anything you can do to help would be appreciated.”

Sorak’s eyes narrowed. “Captain Bern,” he called out across the crypt.

A second later a dark-haired angel with a slight build appeared beside them. “Yes sir.”

“Tell Commander Validus what you told me last week about Tinsalik Barob.”

Bern looked at Validus and hesitated, then swallowed. “We lost a warrior last week in Rio de Janeiro, in one of the favelas. Rocinha.”

“I’m sorry,” Validus replied.

“I was with him when he dissolved. Got to him just before. It was a brutal fight.” Bern shook his head. “Just as he was going, he whispered what I thought was ‘Barob.’ That’s all I heard, but I thought it was unusual enough to report.”

“Show me,” Validus ordered.

Bern looked at Sorak, and the commander nodded.

They walked down the stairs to the strategic map. Sorak swiped through a couple of pages, then zoomed in to Rio de Janeiro. Bern reached for the map and zoomed in even farther to a favela southwest of the main city. He pointed to a small alleyway on the north side of the favela.

“Here. Taj and I were giving support to a guardian. Near one of the shacks, five Fallen came at us.” Bern shook his head. “We got separated, and they were relentless … pursued us in our retreat. When I joined Taj again, I was too late.”

Bern’s face emptied as his mind filled with the last few minutes with his comrade.

“That’s all, Captain,” Sorak said.

Captain Bern recovered, saluted, and returned to his post in the crypt.

“I can give you a few warriors, but I’m stretched pretty thin already,” Sorak offered as he looked over the map, checking positions and strengths of his warriors in the field.

Validus nodded. “I would be grateful, Commander. I may have to translate to get close to Barob, especially if he’s possessed a man, and I don’t want to go in without eyes on the Fallen.”

A warrior dropping through the ceiling caught Validus’s eye. He seemed in a hurry to report to the captain of the watch. Before he had finished his report, two more warriors dropped through with the same urgency. Validus glanced at Sorak, but he was still absorbed in the map.

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