On Black Wings (19 page)

“Can you explain this?” the President says. “How can she be here, and having never opened the book, still release them in the past?”

“As a boy in Africa, when God chose me for my duties, I never understood this either at first,” Azrael says. “ I thought in a line, like one thing should go after the other, and I acted in such. I never knew a Seraph could jump ahead to the end of a man’s life, witness the man’s final moment, and jump back to when they were a child. We see life as lines, when every moment is really a combination of the past, the present, and the future.

In every moment you live an entire lifetime. With every heartbeat, you are the baby that is born, the person at the moment you die, and everything in-between.”

“I can’t pretend to understand much of this, and I don’t understand how the book could be opened before she ever got her wings.” The President sighs. “So you’re saying that sometime in the future, she went back before all this started and opened the book? And we are somewhere stuck in the middle?”

I feel the archangel’s hand on my wing. “To understand, you have to understand the totality of everything in the singular moment. The past need not come before the future. It is the same as putting your mind to a task, now that future is predetermined. In a sense, if you put your mind to a moment in the past, the past can become post-determined as well - different than how it really was, but the truth of that moment is as real to you as what actually happened in another life.”

“And you couldn’t foresee yourself being captured?” The President says, “that this would happen?”

Azrael sighs. “No, this was not foreseen, this event took myself by surprise, and I am supposing the entire Kingdom of Heaven as well.”

“It shocks me that God doesn’t know everything,” the President says, “so this was some sort of sneak attack, on the Kingdom of Heaven?”

“From within, aye,” Azrael says, “it is of no doubt of who is responsible for this attack, it must be the wicked dealings of Lucifer himself, or his son.”

“I am not a terrorist, and I do not serve Satan!” I’m sitting up, crying, and I don’t know how much more I can take.

“Well she herself said it best!” Carson turns from the monitor. “She is a satanic terrorist and needs to be taken into custody! Mister President-”

“Special Agent-”

“Mister President, please, I am a church-going man,” Carson says, shouting over him, “and a terrorist attack on Heaven is about as bad as it gets. By all accounts, our great country has lost tens of millions of people in one day because of the actions of Satan himself, acting through this, this enemy combatant. Now she may be a United States citizen, but she is a clear and present danger to the continued existence of our great and God-loving country. If we can’t judge a traitor to the Kingdom of God whose direct actions killed tens-of-millions of Americans, then what right do we have saying we are one nation under Him?”

“Special Agent that shall be enough!” The President is standing and shouting. “I have had enough of this, of this bickering about religion and prophecy. You think that here in the twenty-first century mankind has gotten beyond such petty disagreements but I suppose not.”

“Sir,” Carson’s lower lip is shaking, “this is not a petty matter.”

“These are guests of the Kingdom of Heaven-”

“Sir,” Carson says, “they are both, admitted fallen angels. In light of the events of this day, traitors to the Kingdom of Heaven should be considered traitors to the United States of America.”

I stand up, wiping the tears from my eyes, looking at Agent Carson. “What are you going to do, execute an Angel of Death?”

“There will be no talk of traitors and there will be no talk of treason in my presence again!” The President is walking around the cabin. His voice is so loud it attracts the attention of security people from both doors, and he dismisses them. “I understand the Archangel Azrael is not recognized in the Christian Bible, but he is a biblical figure in many, many religious texts and beliefs.

As such, he is a guest of our great nation, no matter how difficult the day. Archangel Azrael and Seraph Jessica, an American, are welcome guests here. They are also the only two participants in this worldwide crisis that give us a hope of resolving this matter in a way that preserves our great nation and heritage.

As it is, we are still one nation, under God. Their God.

Please, Seraph, and Archangel please accept my people’s apologies for this, it has been hard on everyone this day.”

“I know, I know, I voted for you.” I sit down, blowing my nose and rubbing my eyes with a White House tissue. I look over at Azrael and he is smiling. “What are you smiling about?”

“I find the petty squabbles of kings and leaders to be amusements which never change. Every nation thinks they are God’s chosen, every people believe they possess divine providence.” Azrael sits forward, putting his cup on the table. “You speak of executing me, yet you do not know about my book.

A book given to me by God himself.

In my book are the names of every living person. I write them and cross them off every day as they are born to this world, and they pass on. Everyone in this room is in my book, do not let it surprise you, it is just the way of things. I have read ahead in this book, and on the last page, and the last name in my book is one I recognize.

For I shall be the last one to die.”

“Great, good to know.” I lean my head back and sigh. “Where am I on the list?”

“I should say now, second to last.” Azrael laughs, and then winces in pain. “The notion we are somehow ahead of anyone else here I find amusing, for I always knew I shall be the one to strike my own name from the list.”

“Did you see the billion people that died today in there?” Becks says, leaning against the wall with his cigarette.

“While there are many disasters which claim many lives at once,” Azrael says, shaking his head, “I have never seen this, at this time, in this way. This is most unexpected, and of course, a surprise to me.

It tells me we are somewhere we shouldn’t be, in a figment of history that is off of God’s will, divergent from His plan. It is a place unknown to history.”

I look over at Azrael. “You mean to say there is a place out there, a world, our world, where this never happened?”

Azrael nods. “As a man is the cumulation of every infinite possibility of every moment in the man’s entire life, so is your world, yes. It is a view of which I am always unaccustomed to, and one for which your mind will eternally struggle. But I fear this history cannot be changed, it shall happen to every possibility of Earth, should the Four have their way. Sooner or later, the events of this world shall become prophecy in others.”

“But if there was a way to stop it,” I say, leaning forward, “stop the strange obelisk in space from ever getting here, we could save those lives.”

“What are you talking about?” The President rubs his chin.

I look at him. “Going back in time, and stopping this before it happens. You found a way to destroy the space rock, right?”

The President shakes his head. “Even so, you are talking about convincing a President to launch a nuclear strike on an object in space that hasn’t arrived yet. The authorizations, it can’t be done, even if I could go back with you, the codes have changed, and all the confirmations, not to mention the possibility of accidental war with the Russians.”

“What about the Valkyrie kinetic kill missile?” Becks drags on his cigarette.

“Launched from Vandenberg?” Carson shakes his head. “It was decided the missile would never hit by the time the object arrived, it is a different flight path meant for-”

Carson sits down, and begins furiously typing on his laptop. “If we could get you back in time early enough, we could possibly launch the kinetic kill missile at the object at longer range. There is a period of time and a launch window we missed, had we known it was coming, but if you could get back to the point in time where the launch window could be met, the Valkyrie could be launched and successfully intercept.”

“A conventional option? Good,” the President says, standing up and walking over to his phone, “get NASA on it. I want a full flight trajectory coded and downloaded into something that will be compatible with the launch systems at Vandenberg. And make sure to tell them we want this calculated for the launch window we
missed
, not now.”

Carson looks up from his laptop, lit with the blue glow. “We still have the problem of security, there’s no way the director at Vandenberg back in that time is ever going to believe the story.”

“This launch is a lot more possible than securing a nuclear release,” the President says, “And I could tape a communication to the Russians about an anti-satellite weapons test. It is going to take the cooperation of our winged friend here-”

“Anything.” I nod.

Becks steps forward. “I would be honored to lead the team should you choose me, Mr. President. I know Vandenberg from my basic training and some joint security exercises we held out there with the Air Force.”

“I’d be honored Colonel, go in the back and assemble a team from my men that you think would be needed. Excellent,” the President bites his lip and his expression changes, “Azrael, if we do this, does this mean all of us here, if the object is destroyed, that this future will never happen, and our selves in this time will cease to exist?”

“You are the sum total of all of your experiences,” Azrael says, “you will not cease to exist, but there is a possibility that you here, you will all vanish, of course, as this time will have become an impossibility.”

“So we are committing temporal suicide?” Carson looks at the President. “For our time-line, at least.”

“I will still be alive,” the President says, “and you will be, in another time, in a time where the world has not suffered this terrible fate. We will perhaps have no memories of this either, but this is a worthy sacrifice for the lives of billions on our world. I assume we will also not remember our friends here, or Colonel Becks, or Seraph Jessica - but our sacrifices in this time-line shall be for the greater good of the world, and to stop those madmen, the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse from controlling our world and carrying out Satan’s plan.”

Carson looks down at his laptop and resumes typing. “Sacrifice our world to save another?”

“A world where this never happened is a better place.” The President sighs. “So that sixty million Americans can walk out under the sun again? So the world shall never know the terror when one-fifth of us were slain as we went to work, played in the sun, and lived our normal lives. I’d say this is a fair trade to never have this fear ever be known in the history of mankind.

Azrael? Are you strong enough to go with them?”

“I shall be, given a little more time.” Azrael nods. “My wings are gone, but I still may rest and gain strength. I may yet be of assistance to them on their mission, and I shall not try to slow them down.”

The President turns to me, and puts a hand on my shoulder. “Jessica, you are the one with the wings. Can you do this for the good of the world?”

“I would be honored.” I nod, holding back a tear and swallowing. “Thank you.”

“No,” he says, giving me a hug, and then looking into my eyes, “thank
you
, Jessica White. I can’t imagine all that you’re going through, the confusion, the fear, the changes that happened to you, losing your family, and how those behind this have lied to you and made you their unwitting pawn.

Know that I forgive you, as do millions of people around the world, and generations to come will forever be in the debt of your sacrifices, even though they may never know. I believe there will be a special place in Heaven for you after all is said and done.

On black wings you shall fly into the heart of darkness and save us all.”

CHAPTER XXIX:

Redemption Escapes Me

Azrael and I are taken into the back to rest and prepare ourselves. I’m sitting in the First Lady’s cabin, looking over a number of clothes they brought me. I could go in desert tan military-style fatigues, or all black.

I’m an Angel of Death, so I go for the black.

I skip the bulletproof vest, and keep my fringed Indian boots I got from the kids’ house, they are comfortable and I don’t have to break them in.

I lie back on the bed and stare at the ceiling, resting in the warm comfort of my black plumage. Will doing this destroy me? If I stop them from opening the book, does that means there is no Death to cut Azrael’s wings off - he could never have gotten out, so I will never get these wings. The stone will never get here, so my family will never die. That day will begin and end as any other; with me never taking these wings, seeing everyone I saw, and meeting everyone I met.

Will I even remember?

Do I want to?

I will be thirty-four again, I will have my children, my normal life, Brad, my lost car keys, and everything will go on as normal, with this a forgotten nightmare of something that never happened.

What happened at the castle scares me. I was a monster. An unthinking, killing monster. Something else possessed me. Something dark, sinister, evil. Like Death himself controlling me, his puppet as I slain man after man with ease. I can’t think about it, I can’t.

How could I do that? How could I go so psycho? Please God, help me. I’m a monster, worse than Azrael, worse than the Four Horsemen. I am the Angel of Death, and I am living up to my name.

How long will it be before I forget who I am?

I need to give this up. All of it.

I close my eyes.

It’s worth it. I will give up eternal life as a Seraph to be home with my family, and to spare the world this suffering. All the things that I have done, forgotten. Meeting the President. Forgotten. Saving the world. Forgotten. Meeting someone from Heaven. Forgotten.

Killing those men. Forgotten.

I open my eyes. I’m probably getting ahead of myself. We could fail. But how? I clench my fists. It’s a good question.

We could fail to launch the missile. I have to trust the President and Becks will take care of that, I just need to get Colonel Becks to where he needs to be and he will do the rest. I don’t need to work computers, program BASIC, or do anything other than make sure he gets inside an Air Force base that has no idea they are key to saving the world.