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Authors: William C. Oelfke

BOOK: Three
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“I don’t know,” answered the Reverend
Spencer, “but by the looks of the rental, probably another pair of tourists
looking for Boz, the other ghost town near here that’s listed on the local
travel guide.  I’ll go and welcome them to my church; maybe they are
believers.”

As Oliver was in thoughtful
prayer for Alice and Peter’s team and seeking to revive his trust in God, he
could not suppress the fear he still felt.  The attack at his apartment added
to his feeling of danger and he even imagined he had just caught a whiff of
that same aftershave his attacker had worn.  The soft murmur of voices from the
annex now became louder.  The men were leaving their meeting and he heard the
words of a young man saying, “…but now I must get back to the lab before I am
missed.” 
Maybe he worked for the nearby rocket fuel company and had taken a
lunch break to attend a prayer meeting.
  The thought was reassuring. 

After some minutes, a tall
gray-haired gentleman entered from a door at the front of the sanctuary and
approached him.  Smiling warmly and extending his hand, he said, “Welcome to
the Trinity River Bible Church.  I see that you are grieved and in prayer.  May
I be of assistance and pray with you?” 

Oliver was immediately struck
by the man’s presence and resonant voice. 
Here is a skilled orator and
charismatic preacher.
“Thank you Reverend.  Indeed I was in prayer, drawn,
in my time of trouble, to this church which reminded me of one in my
childhood.”

 The Reverend stood in the aisle,
and placing his hand on Oliver’s head began to pray. “Lord, drive the demons of
doubt and fear from this man’s soul.  Keep him in your protective arms, for the
day of reckoning is near.” 

Without giving his name,
Oliver thanked the minister for his kindness as he walked with him to the entrance. 
The distinguished preacher stood in the entrance and waved as Oliver got into
his car and drove back toward the highway.  Oliver could not help but think
back to his first year in divinity school.  He had a strong mental picture of
the kind of preacher he had hoped to be; one with a charismatic presence and a
deep resonant voice like this man. 
Surely he must have a following.  He
seems to be well educated, but why is he preaching at such an isolated, ghost
town church?

Meanwhile, Forrest Pierce,
troubled by the presence of a stranger in the church while he had been meeting
with Benton Spencer, had decided to find out for himself who was there.  After
all, he was the one who had made the greatest commitment to the growing
struggle against Satan, and was now in the greatest danger.  He had parked
partway down a long, tree-lined driveway to a nearby ranch-house where he could
see the front of the church in the distance.  He watched as two figures emerged
from the church, shook hands and waved to one another as the stranger went to
his car.  It was too far away for Forrest to get a good look at the stranger,
but he was clearly a well-dressed man, somewhat shorter than the Reverend. 
After this stranger drove past, Forrest pulled out on to the roadway and
followed at a distance.

As he drove away from the
strange old church, Oliver was still puzzling over the charismatic minister’s
choice of such an isolated location for his church and ministry.  The words on
the marquee and the nature of his prayer had perhaps provided a clue.  The
marquee read, “Who can defeat the beast?” followed by two scripture references,
“EX20, RV20”.  Oliver began to realize this preacher was obsessed with the old
style eschatology: preaching hell-fire and damnation in order to bring the
faithful together out of fear of the final judgment.  This approach to
evangelism had been somewhat successful during times of great national stress
such as the great world wars and the depression years; but now during happier
times, especially here in the region surrounding Waxahachie, where billions of
dollars were poured into the local economy, such gloom and doom would fall on
deaf ears. 

A minister living in the
past, preaching in a ghost town church
,
thought Oliver as he drove back to his motel. 

He went to the motel office
to buy a local newspaper.  As he paid the old clerk, he asked him about the
ghost town and its church. 

The clerk replied, “Oh, that’s
all that’s left of Trinity Junction.  Them government folks bought up the whole
thing to make way for the big tunnel.  Did the same thing to Boz, just down the
road.  That’s old Preacher Benton Spencer.  They paid him a pile o’ money for the
church and his place, but he’s been a’ preachin’ ever since, that them
government folks were really workin’ with the Devil.” 

“But the project has been
stopped, and all the government people are now gone.   Is he now drawing some
church members from the chemical factory operating in the old government
facility?” 

“Oh no, he calls ‘em all
vipers, living in Satan’s den.  For years he’s tried to get us local folks
riled up, but he just drove us away from his church.  Most all us locals got
rich like he did, and could care less about his Devil.  Some of us sold our
land or worked for the government.   Some sold goods and services to all them
folks who began come’n to do the work.  The Reverend got into some kind’a trouble
with the government a while back and was gone a spell.  Some say they sent him
to jail, but the past few years he’s been back preaching his same hellfire and
damnation.” 

“He does seem to have some
followers,” said Oliver, referring to the cars and truck parked behind the
church and the murmur of men’s voices he had heard. 

“I wouldn’t know nothin’
about that,” said the clerk, “there’s no folks around that old ghost town
anymore, not even tourists.”

Oliver thanked him for the
paper and information and made his way out of the office and toward his room.

Forrest Pierce had seen the
stranger pull into the motel, and watched as he went into the office.  To get a
better look, he moved his car near to where the other had parked in front of
his room and waited.  As the man left the office, carrying a newspaper, and
walked past Pierce on his way to his room, a shock of recognition caused the
blood to rush to his face and then rush away, making him feel faint.  The man
was Professor Saxon, Peter Newbury’s best friend, someone who knew him on sight
because Forrest was one of the technical support staff assigned to the fifth
floor of Wilson Hall. 

Forrest drove away from the
motel, north through Waxahachie, and on toward the Dallas/Fort Worth airport,
where he had just enough time to catch his return flight to Chicago.  As he
drove, the panic began to rise within him
.  How could Dr. Saxon find me, the
Reverend Spencer, and the church in such a short time?  He must have identified
me yesterday at his apartment.  I thought I’d killed him with that statue.  Now
he’s tracked me to the church and to the Reverend.   Maybe he found the letter
in Dr. Newbury’s documents! Maybe he’s the Devil himself!! 
Pulling off the
road, in a rapidly growing state of panic and paranoia, he struggled with what
to do next. 
I can’t tell the Reverend about the letter or I’ll no longer be
allowed to serve our cause,
he thought as he called Spencer and related
what he had just learned about the visitor to their meeting place. 

“I don’t think you should
panic, Forrest,” said Spencer. “This man, Professor Saxon, seemed to be
sincerely in need of prayer.  He was not looking for information about me or
the church or our gathering.  I suspect he made the trip to the old government
site because that high priest of Satan, Peter Newbury, had once been active in
trying to re-start the science project and continue the abominable work
underground, searching for God in the caverns of hell.” 

“Maybe you’re right, Doctor
Spencer,” replied Pierce, “but I think that evil is closing in on all of us.  I’m
going to avoid the lab and hide out until my next strike against Satan.” 

“I agree, evil may be closing
in on us here in Waxahachie.  I’ll contact the others and start the offensives
at the remaining two temples of Satan worship; meanwhile you must keep hidden
until I contact you.  You may well not have been exposed, but you mustn’t take
any chances until our final day of victory.”

Oliver sat in his room, the
newspaper unopened on the bed, contemplating what he had just learned. 
Here
in North Texas is a charismatic minister, preaching his message of repentance
in preparation of the Day of Judgment, seemingly misplaced in time and place,
with no obvious crisis to bring in believers to his church.  Was the crisis of
his own making, based on his belief that particle physics sought to worship
false idols and that this is the harbinger of the End of Days?

He picked up the Gideon Bible
on the bed-side table, and read the two passages, one from the book of Exodus,
and one from the Revelation of Saint John the Divine.  The twentieth chapter of
Exodus described the commandments of God to the Hebrews at Sinai.  Oliver was
struck by reading this early version of the Ten Commandments because of its
emphasis on severe punishment for idol worship
.  In the New Testament
accounts of Jesus’ commentary on the Law of Moses, He described these same
commandments as “love God and love your neighbor as yourself”.
  Oliver
thought again of how such love had bonded together Elizabeth Ward, David
Benjamin, and Kahlil Ahmed, even though these three were each devout in their
own religions. 
Love can break the barriers of misunderstanding that repel
peoples of different cultures and beliefs and bring them together in this case,
for a collaboration to better understand not only each other, but also the
universe in which they live.
 

The twentieth chapter of
Revelation described the release of the beast and Satan after their thousand-year
bondage and the coming of the End of Days.  His attention was drawn to the
mention of Gog and Magog, representing the evil forces of the Devil coming from
the four corners of the world, to combat the righteous at the End of Days. 
From his work the previous summer on ISIS recruiting methods, he knew that
these peculiar names appear as well in the Torah and the Quran in a similar
context.

Suddenly he was thinking back
to his off-handed reference to the Father Abraham link between the three world
religions. 
They also share a common eschatology, with similar events,
including the rise of false prophets and the sin of idol worship leading to the
final Day of Judgment.
 
Could this little church, of no real consequence
even in the sparse ranchland south of Waxahachie, have given me the clue needed
to begin to unravel the source of last week’s encrypted communication, or was
it the actual source?
 

He decided to call Maxine and
give her a report of his findings, as limited as they were, and feel her out
about his suspected connections to what could be a radical multi-faith
conspiracy. 

She answered almost immediately
and said, “Oliver, I was just reaching for the phone to call you.  I could
probably lose my job and be charged with a felony for giving you this
information, but I know how much you care for the people involved.  As you know,
a team of special agents has been assigned to Peter’s case and have been
present in the background at Fermilab and the coroner’s office in Chicago this
week.  The agent at the coroner’s office is highly trained in CSI and has been
carrying out a search, not so much for internal signs of poisoning, but for any
external signs of foul play, to include tissue under fingernails due to a
struggle. 

“This morning he discovered
the cause of death.  On the fleshy pad of Peter’s right thumb, he found a small
puncture and excised a small hollow pellet containing traces of ricin.  Oliver,
your suspicions were right.  Peter was murdered.  In addition, the injection
was made by a specially rigged ball-point pen which left an imprint around the
puncture of two sixes with a line between, masking the central small wound. 
The imprint was left as some intentional message, because it was made in white
engraving ink carefully placed on the piston of the pen.” 

Oliver found himself in shock
again.  Even though he had suspected foul play, this news came as a complete
surprise.  “Max, I had called you to give you some rather sketchy information
about our Texas project and am completely overwhelmed by this news.  If Peter’s
been murdered, then others may be in danger too!” 

“You’re right, Oliver; I&A
has thrown a cloak of security around those closest to this murder, and in fact
that cloak includes you.  If you haven’t heard from him yet, you’ll be
receiving a call from the director asking that you return as soon as possible. 
You’ll be met at the airport by an agent who will take you to a secured hotel
away from the lab.  You can give the inspectors any information you have
relating to the murder.

I must warn you, however, that
the pen, containing traces of ricin, as well as the flash-drive used to sabotage
Peter’s laptop, were both discovered hidden in the bottom drawer of David
Benjamin’s desk in his office next door to Peter’s.  You must not let anyone
know I’ve told you all this or I’ll be in serious trouble!”

Oliver’s shock at this news
was still clouding his mind as he began packing for his drive back through
Waxahachie and north to DFW.  Without thinking he packed the Gideon Bible he
had been examining along with his clothes.   He checked out of the motel and drove
north through town toward the airport.  He had attempted to make a reservation
for a flight home to Chicago.  The next flight out had been booked by a large
group of baseball fans on their way to a Rangers – Cubs game.  He would have to
stand-by for a later one that afternoon.

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