James BeauSeigneur - In His Image James

"All the earth has seen what has been done here today," Cohen said over the radio. "But you, oh Israel, have not glorified God. Instead you have congratulated yourselves for destroying your enemy. You have glorified yourself and now you have falsely used the words of the prophet Joel to suit your own needs. 'These words must not be used as a rallying cry for my people,' says the Lord. These are the words of the son of Satan, who will rally his evil forces to destroy you in the day of the Lord that is coming. Nevertheless, the Lord, your God is a patient and merciful God. Hear now the words of the prophet Ezekiel for the enemy of my people Israel:

I will execute judgment upon him with plague and bloodshed; I will pour down torrents of rain, hailstones and burning sulfur on him and his troops and on the many nations with him… On the mountains of Israel you will fall, you and all your troops and the nations with you. I will give you as food to all kinds of carrion birds and wild animals.

You will fall in the open field, for I have spoken, declares the Sovereign Lord… and they will know that I am theLordP

"Today, oh Israel, today you shall behold the power and wrath of God! Here, oh Israel, is your true battle cry. 'Behold the hand of God! Behold the hand of God!'"

New York (4:55 a.m. New York, 11:55 a.m. Israel/Moscow)

Even in his sleep, Decker's mind was filled with the events of the day. Suddenly he was awakened as a scream of pure terror erupted from Christopher's room. Decker found the boy covered in sweat and trembling in fear. "What's wrong?!" Decker shouted, his own heart racing to match Christopher's.

Christopher sat up straight in bed and seemed unsure of his surroundings. As he looked around, the disorientation was slow to leave him. Finally, Decker saw a look of recognition in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," Christopher said. "I'm okay now. It was… just a dream." Decker had been a father long enough to recognize when a child was attempting to be brave. Christopher was visibly shaken and Decker wasn't about to just leave him alone.

"Was it the crucifixion dream again?" Decker asked.

"No, no," Christopher answered. "Nothing like that."

"Well, why don't you tell me about it."

Christopher seemed a little reluctant but Decker insisted. "It was really just a dumb dream," Christopher said, apologetically. "I've had the same dream before." Decker didn't budge. "Okay," Christopher said, giving in to Decker's insistence. "The dream has a weird feeling about it. It seems almost ancient, but at the same time it's clear and fresh. When the dream starts, I'm in a room with huge curtains hanging all around me. The curtains are beautiful, decorated with gold and silver threads. The floor of the room is made of stone and in the middle of the room is an old wooden box, like a crate, sitting on a table. I can't explain why, but in the dream I feel like I need to look in the box."

"What's in the box?" Decker asked.

"I don't know. In the dream it seems like there's something inside that I need to see, but at the same time, somehow I know that whatever it is, it's terrifying."

Decker read the terror in his eyes and was glad he had insisted that Christopher tell him about the dream. This was not the sort of thing a fifteen-year-old should have to face on his own.

"In the dream, when I approach the box and I'm just a few feet away, I look down and somehow the floor has disappeared. I start to fall, but I grab onto the table that the box is sitting on." Christopher stopped.

"Go on," Decker urged.

"That's as far as the dream ever went until tonight."

"So, what happened tonight?" Decker prodded, anxious to hear the conclusion to the strange dream.

"Well, usually I wake up at that point, but this time there was something else: a voice. It was a very deep, rich voice and it was saying, 'Behold the hand of God; Behold the hand of God!'"

Decker had no idea what the dream might mean but it certainly had his attention.

"And then there was another voice," Christopher continued. "Well, it wasn't exactly a voice: it was a laugh."

"A laugh?"

"Yes, sir. But it wasn't a friendly laugh. I can't really explain it except to say it was cold and cruel and terribly inhuman."

Moscow (12:37 p.m. Moscow/Israel, 5:37 a.m. New York)

Lieutenant Yuri Dolginov hurried down the long hall of the Kremlin toward the office of the Defense Minister. Despite the importance of his message he knew well that he had better take the time to knock before entering. "Sir," he said, when he was permitted to enter, "we have regained control of the Israeli strategic defense."

This was good news, indeed. "Excellent," Khromchenkov said to himself, "then the time has come to strike." Khromchenkov made a quick call to Foreign Minister Cherov before notifying President Perelyakin of the change in status in Israel. The President called for an immediate meeting of the Security Council.

When the meeting convened a few minutes later, President Perelyakin immediately turned the floor over to Khromchenkov. He had no idea of the intrigue that was brewing, and simply felt it was good politics to allow the Defense Minister to have the pleasure of informing the Security Council of the good news from Israel.

Khromchenkov read the words of the communique from General Serov in the Israeli Strategic Defense Control Facility:

Have regained control of Israeli strategic defense. Unable to achieve same for offensive missile forces. Recommend immediate action as condition could change without warning.

The members of the Security Council applauded General Serov's accomplishment. Several of the men in the meeting had already been notified of the situation and were obliged to act as though this was the first time they had heard it.

"Thank you," President Perelyakin told Khromchenkov. "Now, I suggest we comply with the General's recommendation and respond immediately."

"One moment," Foreign Minister Cherov interrupted.

"Yes," responded Perelyakin, who had already risen from his seat. Perelyakin's face showed only the slightest hint of concern as Cherov began. Inside, however, his stomach muscles tightened as if in preparation for a physical blow.

"It has occurred to me that we face a remarkable opportunity to restore Russia to its rightful position as a great world power. At this moment the American forces are in virtual disarray. Now, certainly I will acknowledge that similar conditions exist for the Russian Federation. The Disaster, as the Americans call it, has struck both sides with severe losses. But the measure of superiority is not what is, but how one uses what is, to his final advantage."

Perelyakin listened to Cherov's words with his ears but his eyes studied the faces of those around him. He didn't like what he saw anymore than he liked what he heard.

New York (7:30 a.m. New York, 2:30 p.m. Moscow/Israel)

"I appreciate you meeting me for breakfast, Yuri," Jon Hansen said as he greeted the Soviet Ambassador.

"Good morning, Jon," Kruszkegin responded. "That's all right, I'm on a diet," he added in jest, anticipating the distasteful nature of the conversation that was about to follow. Kruszkegin's eyes were red from having to operate in two different time zones. He had been awakened early that morning to be apprised of the situation in Israel. His nephew, Yuri Dolginov, who worked for the Defense Minister, had sent him an encrypted e-mail from Moscow that Russia had regained control of the Israeli strategic defense, and Kruszkegin had stayed up expecting official notification from the Foreign Minister of what action was intended. None came. This was not the first time he had to depend on his nephew for word of what was going on. The Foreign Minister, under whose direction all Russian ambassadors functioned, was not comfortable with men like Kruszkegin whom he considered far too 'internationally-minded' to be very useful to the Russian Federation.