Unholy Advent: Deception Of The Christ

The Mahdi emerged from his regal wooden capsule and stood atop it as the camels rocked him along the ancient roads of old Jerusalem. To his followers behind, the sight of him was as powerful as it had been when he climbed the Holy Kaaba at the heart of Mecca long ago. The incredible thirst and hunger the masses had endured had done no damage to his proud and polished form, a testament to the nature of his being.

  "Behold!" He shouted as he raised a ceremonial scimitar with the sharpened edge pointed to the golden dome on the horizon. "The Dome Of The Rock! It shall be ours before the moon ascends in the sky!"

  The people cried Allhu Akbar and declared their dedication to Ali Sabra, their souls hardened and prepared to face a fierce battle for what was theirs. They had been promised this day for millennia, and the glory would belong to Islam when the deed was finally done. Defeat was not an option they would consider so long as any one of them drew breath; they would see to it that their Mahdi would be vindicated before the world this day.

  "They are prepared!" One among them called as he saw the sons of Israel and their companions spread across the Mount.

  "They are no match for our might!" Another declared.

  The Mahdi called for the convoy to stop, freezing them just shy of the mouth that was Bridge Street. He lowered himself from his throne and approached the Mount alone. Stopping several hundred yards shy of the gates, he scanned the massive wall of humanity standing between him and the Dome Of The Rock.

  No one moved a muscle in anything that resembled a threatening gesture; each side waiting for the other to take the first steps. Ali Sabra sheathed his sword and stepped closer, indignant yet non-confrontational at this point in time.

  "I will speak to your commander." He shouted to the army. "This -- female that captivates your kind. The one you call Mashiach."

  Commander Washington approached him, the spirit of Mamba reborn in the shadow of battle looming on the time scape.

  "She hasn't got anything to say to you, butcher!" He declared, loathing of his foe clear in his disdainful tone.

  "Ahhhhh, Commander Washington!" The Mahdi responded. "I remember you! You came to visit me, once... your team might have succeeded in taking me down if they hadn't, umm --" He paused. "Lost their heads -- in the heat of battle."

  "And here we are -- staring at each other from across the breach once again." The Commander replied. "God definitely does have a sense of humor after all, doesn't he?"

  "If you consider your death a laughing matter, then I guess he does."

  "You're awfully full of yourself, aren't you?" Washington chuckled. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but -- weren't you hiding out under the ground when my team showed up?"

  "Hiding out -- laying in wait -- who's keeping track? I seem to remember seeing you spread out on your stomach with a foot at your back and a blade at your neck before we were so -- rudely interrupted, though... I took that as a moral victory, for what it's worth now."

  " It ain't over between us yet, Ali Sabra." Washington continued. "I'll spill your blood before this is over... I'm gonna enjoy sending you to your Allah with my boot planted firmly up your stinkin' ass!"

  "A tall order, my friend." The man said defiantly as he examined Washington's backup. "I was never much for mathematics - I had people for those sorts of things... but, unless my eyes deceive me; I'd say we've got you outnumbered at least fifteen to one... maybe even twenty? Step aside, American pig... conserve your life and the lives of all these people who follow you so foolishly. You will be allowed to -- exist -- in the kingdom of Islam. I can't promise you anything more than that; but it's a fate better than death, I'm sure you'll agree."

  "Spare me your bullshit, you Al-Qaeda puppet!" Washington barked in return. "Save your breath -- cherish it. You haven't got many left."

  "You see?" Ali Sabra called back to his forces. "The infidels won't even hear the terms I offer for their surrender!"

  "Fuck your terms!"

  "Wait!" Denisa called from the distance as she descended from her tower. "I will speak to him!"

  The Mahdi laughed in his rival's face as Washington steamed in fury.

  "Step aside, Mamba." Ali Sabra taunted. "Let your Massa do the talking!"

  The Commander bit his lip, his fists clenched tightly, and fell back into the front line. His eyes remained locked on The Mahdi, the desire to kill him burning hotter within than ever before as he reached for the heavy sledge hammer with which he hoped to do the deed.

  The Mashiach made her way through the restless crowd, squeezing through tightly stacked bodies until she stood face to face with the man who dared lay claim to her homeland.

  "Wait..." The man said as he studied her features. "Do I know you from somewhere? You look awfully damned familiar."

  "We've never met." She replied. "But I'm a bit notorious, in these parts."

  "As I am notorious in mine."

  "You're notorious everywhere, Ali Sabra. Terrorists as prolific as you usually are."

  "You know my work?" He smiled. "Then you know that I take pride in never losing when I've set my mind to something."

  "Funny." She retorted. "I seem to remember my brothers driving you out of the West Bank at the request of Arafat himself. We weren't used to being asked for help from the P.L.O., so it sticks out quite clearly in my head."

  "Arafat felt threatened by me; what reasonable man wouldn't be?"

  "Still -- seemed like quite a defeat to me, but who am I to say?"

  "You say your brothers drove me out..." Ali Sabra said, the wheels turning in his mind. "That means you must serve the I.D.F."

  "I did before -- yes."

  "Of course!" The Mahdi exclaimed. "That is where I've seen your face! The soldier we captured and tortured to death in Lebanon... he had a picture of you in his wallet!"

  Denisa was rocked; the events surrounding the death of her husband coming to the forefront of her mind again. She had never been told of the involvement of Ali Sabra's people, but that didn't mean the man wasn't telling the truth. Was it possible that this terrorist she found herself standing eye to eye with had been responsible for the slow and gruesome dismemberment of the man she had loved?

  "I remember it well." He continued. "He cried for you every time we cut him... We took him apart meticulously -- severing his fingers a knuckle at a time - and with the passing of steel through each bone, he called your name. What was it?" He paused, the Mashiach's legs shaking with anger and sorrow as she stood before him. "Oh yes!" he resumed. "It was Denisa!"

  "I don't believe you." She stammered in an emotional tone. "These things were likely told to you by the demon that you serve."

  "Deeenniii-ssssaa!" He taunted loudly with exaggerated suffering.

  "You're evil!" She snapped under her breath, not wishing to put her emotion on display to the army at her command. "You son of a bitch!"

  "It burrrrnnns!" He continued, laughing now.

  "What do you want?" She barked, her concern for hiding her feelings wearing thing in the face of his insolence. "You wanted to talk, so talk!"

  The Mahdi let his amusement fade slowly, several sinister chuckles slipping out before he continued in a serious manner.

  "You're no fun." He remarked. "Tell me -- where is the one-eyed anti-Christ? This Jennings with whom you spoke in the Well of Souls."

  Denisa recoiled, not sure how the man knew of discussions she had held in private quarters.

  "Allah has shown me all." He explained. "Why does this man not negotiate at your side?"

  "This is my land, sir." She answered. "Jennings stakes no claim to it, so he is not a party at this table."

  "I wish to see him anyway." Ali Sabra declared. "Bring him out so that I may look upon him one more time before he dies at the hands of my people."

  "As I said, he is not a party to these talks."

  "Does he cower in fear now? Has he chosen to dodge this fight by running off to pray in his empty churches f
ar from here?"

  "He is here." Denisa offered. "But you will talk to me, and me alone."

  "As you wish... Our demands are simple; you will order your people to surrender immediately, turning these crude armaments that they carry over to us. You will then relinquish the Temple Mount in its entirety. As you can see, I have brought quite a few people along with me; it's likely that we will require the whole of Jerusalem to provide adequate living space. We will let you live; but not here. And you must vow your subservience to Allah, and, of course, to me."

  "Not a chance." She returned. "But I offer the following compromise."

  "No compromise is acceptable, though I doubt you would really negotiate with the man who killed your husband anyway."

  "I will always seek a peaceful resolution to the affairs of my people, no matter whom I must negotiate with. Will you not even hear what I have to say?"

  "If it will make you feel better about yourself, I'll allow it -- but know that it makes no difference."

  "We will surrender the Dome Of The Rock and the Al-Aqsa Mosque to you, along with half of Jerusalem."

  "I'm afraid half won't do, Mashiach." Ali Sabra argued.

  "Why?" Denisa asked. "There is plenty of space just outside of the city that will allow your people room to live. You must give just as you seek take."

  "I'm afraid you are mistaken."

  Ali Sabra turned and pointed to the sky far behind him. She wouldn't consider that the fire she saw there arose at his command, but she certainly hadn't noticed it before he pointed it out. The Mahdi smiled deviously as she turned her head to examine the deadly wonder end to end; a furious ring of flames seemingly surrounding them on all sides.

  "You see, Mashiach." He continued. "I believe once this storm, if you will, has come to its conclusion -- there won't be anything left outside of Jerusalem. Trust me when I say; all the souls under my command will be within the walls of the city before such time as that happens."

  "The city isn't large enough!" She declared. "There isn't room for all of you and all of us!"

  This statement made Ali Sabra's grin as wide as any she had ever seen, his countenance formidable in the glow of the inferno.

  "I know." He replied. "So let me make it clear once more; you will surrender the Temple Mount -- and all of Jerusalem to me and my people. Your people may have -- whatever is left, though I doubt it will be much."

  "I'm still willing to make a deal here, Mahdi." Denisa insisted. "Half and half -- you'll lose some, I'll lose some... you can have your precious Dome and Mosque, but you must allow the construction of Ezekiel's Temple to contin--"

  "What?" The man shouted in rage. "What of Ezekiel's Temple?"

  "You will allow its construction to continue undisturbed."

  "You build the Third Temple on the Mount?"

  "We do -- as ordered."

  "What insolence!" The Mahdi shrieked in insult. "How dare you defile our sacred shrines with your filthy temple?"

  "Ali Sabra, if both our peoples are to survive we must -"

  "Both our peoples shall not survive!" He interrupted. "We will wipe the Jews from the face of the Earth once and for all! If the others wish to die at your side, then so be it this day! We shall smote you in the glorious name of Allah!"

  Denisa stood silent as the Mahdi twirled around with fury and went storming back to his people. They had heard his final calls and shouted Allhu Akbar as loudly as the lungs of men allowed while raising their fists in solidarity.

  Commander Washington stepped back to her side, placing his hand on her shoulder in support.

  "Take it that didn't go very well?" He asked.

  "Very perceptive, Commander." She replied, still staring at the sea of Muslims before her.

  "Yeah, I've got a knack for reading people, I guess... what's the plan?"

  "The same as it has been; we fight."

  "You think this burning wall is gonna keep closing on us?"

  "I haven't any idea."

  "Because if it isn't gonna stop I'd like to try and find me a beer before it gets here."

  "There will be time for beer later." She suggested, looking up to him now with a bravado-fashioned grin. "After we've won this battle."

  "I knew there was something about you I liked the moment I saw you." He chuckled.

  "Get ready -- I'm going back to the crow's nest."

  The two of them turned and marched back towards the army of their own, Washington running through his mental plan for battle as he had countless times before. Between them, they had faced down many foes in the fog of war; but this day would be different... that fact may have been the only one of which there was no doubt.

  Chapter 36