Fuse of Armageddon by Brouwer Sigmund & Hanegraaff Hank

Author:Brouwer, Sigmund & Hanegraaff, Hank [Hanegraaff, Hank]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Religious Fiction, FICTION / General
ISBN: 9781414320731
Publisher: Tyndale House Publishers
Published: 2007-09-14T04:00:00+00:00

15:30 GMT

The platoon was ready for action again. Saxon was staying behind with the heifer. Patterson was part of the next phase of operations.

These were Patterson’s new orders: shoot to kill if anyone tried to interfere with the two-man mission. Man or woman or child, regardless of age. Nothing was to stop Patterson and Burge from dropping the canisters at the time specified by Saxon. Patterson didn’t know why or what was expected afterward, just that it was crucial to make it happen.

They were one of six two-man teams in motion, roaming the streets and alleys in their disguises as Arab farm laborers. Each man carried a hidden pistol. Here, even though it was common for men to carry machine guns, Saxon had specified he wanted as little attention as possible drawn to the teams.

Patterson walked alongside Burge, who carried what looked like a cell phone to anyone giving them a second glance. But it was a GPS locator preprogrammed with coordinates. It had been beeping every five seconds, but as the two of them neared the coordinates, the beeping grew more frequent—a sophisticated game of warmer-colder.

The air was dry and hot. It seemed to suck up moisture but exuded such a variety of smells that Patterson couldn’t identify any of them. None of the smells were pleasant.

The two men were silent. Burge was focusing on the tempo of beeping sounds coming from the GPS locator. Patterson was in no mood to talk. His intense fear about Sarah was like acid eating at his stomach walls.

“You don’t have any idea how big this is. . . . Our military unit is only a small part of a secret network of Christians dedicated to striking back at the network established by Islamic terrorists. All across America, men of influence and power are helping fight the war. . . . If you were back in Georgia, you would have heard that your wife has disappeared.”

Even if Patterson could identify any of the rest of the secret network, where would he start looking for her, and how could he possibly fight back?

Patterson wasn’t so lost in his thoughts that he had stopped surveying the street. They were approaching the front of a beat-up white van, just as junky-looking as most of the vehicles in Gaza. What was different, however, was the fact that three non-Arabs, two men and a woman, were visible through the windshield. Americans? Tourists?

Whoever they were, they seemed out of place. Their eyes slid over him as he and Burge approached, more proof of how well the Freedom Crusaders had prepared for their role here. To observers, Patterson and Burge were just another couple of Arabs.

If that wasn’t enough extra indication of the thoroughness of the secret network, Patterson didn’t need to look any further than the GPS locator in Burge’s right hand. The locators, one for each pair of soldiers, had been in one of the crates. Patterson had no idea, of course, who had supplied the crates or how long it had been since they had been filled.

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