Showing posts with label snipers jesus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label snipers jesus. Show all posts

Friday, 23 November 2012

Chpt. 18 - Don't Shoot the Messenger by Daniel Grant Newton


For the previous chapters of Daniel Grant Newton's online book Don't Shoot the Messenger, click below:

Chapter 1      Chapter 2      Chapter 3      Chapter 4      Chapter 5      Chapter 6      Chapter 7      Chapter 8      Chapter 9      Chapter 10     Chapter 11      Chapter 12      Chapter 13      Chapter 14     Chapter 15     
Chapter 16     Chapter 17



“If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you,” Yēšûă announced to the crowd, his arms spread wide.
The crowd were silent, transfixed on the man before them.
“Today men are here who wish to kill me,” he continued, to the gasping and whispering of the crowd, “but they do not realise that I do not have your key to the Kingdom of Heaven.  I said it when I arrived in your village, and I shall say it again, the Kingdom of Heaven is within you.  And so my message will never die, as it is not of flesh and blood, but will live on in every fibre of your physical and spiritual being.  And live on in every generation hereafter.  The message is immortal.”
“When do we get to kill him?” growled Kofi Nelson under his breath, a former Ghanaian-rebel-turn-elite-spy for the United States, and now working under Spider’s team.  “If we kill him now people will know he has been murdered, and his legacy will grow.”
Kofi Nelson closely shadowed Spider’s movements through the sea of people.
“That is why we’ll make him disappear,” Spider smirked back at him.  “Jude is out of the picture, perhaps finding out whether the Kingdom of Heaven really is inside himself, and we have all the time in the world.  We’ll follow him after the speech, and take him and his followers out.”
Spider put his two-way radio to his mouth.  “Team ‘A’ come in, over,” he called.
As he pulled his finger off the speaker, all that could be heard was static.
“Come in Team ‘A’, this is Spider, over,” he said again.
His eyes darted about the square and surrounding building tops.
“Team ‘B’, come in, over,” Spider spoke into his radio.  However, there too was only static on the other end.
“Come in Team ‘B’, over,” he repeated the order forcefully.  Still no answer.
Spider motioned for Kofi to move around the perimeter of the crowd.  “Jude is not dead, apparently.”
“It takes a lot to kill that man,” Kofi said.
“Screw you, Nelson,” said Spider, spitting his chewing gum on the dirt.  “Just go find Jude and kill him.”

Click here for Chapter 19... but prepared, the most thrilling is still to come.

A thank you note to YOU

Monday, 19 November 2012

Chpt. 17 - Don't Shoot the Messenger by Daniel Grant Newton


For the previous chapters of Daniel Grant Newton's online book Don't Shoot the Messenger, click below:

Chapter 1      Chapter 2      Chapter 3      Chapter 4      Chapter 5      Chapter 6      Chapter 7      Chapter 8      Chapter 9      Chapter 10     Chapter 11      Chapter 12      Chapter 13      Chapter 14   
Chapter 15      
Chapter 16


Jude carefully weaved through the crowd gathering in the square, analysing each sweaty robe for concealed weapons.  His eyes searched the surrounding building tops for snipers.
“Yēšûă is about to go up there,” he muttered, staring at the blazing sun.  “Where the hell are they?”
A boy in a white cloak smiled at Jude, revealing a set of buckteeth, and put his open hand on the soldier's abdomen.
Then with the other hand, the boy placed a note in Jude's hand, and skipped down a backstreet. 
The note simply read:
The message of love, or the one you make love with?  You have five minutes.
“Damn,” muttered Jude.  “Spider's got Irene.”
Jude raced through the streets, shoving people and objects out of his way.
“Irene,” he screamed, pulling doors open up and down the narrow streets.  “Irene.”
“Damn, damn, damn.”  He scratched the back of his neck.  “Where would Spider...”
Jude’s eyes stopped upon the monolithic dome towering above the buildings of mud and stone.  “The temple.”
He sprinted towards the structure, skipping through the crowd shuffling towards the location for Yēšûă's speech, and the aimlessly wandering cows and goats.
Jude galloped up the stairs of the temple and through the arched doorways.
Inside were pews, extravagant religious items, and limestone walls that stretched to the dome above.  But no sign of Irene.
The soldier scanned the walls for an imperfection in what was very precise craftsmanship.
He then bounded over a pew, and then another, and dashed to the front of the temple.  He stopped before the back wall and traced his hand over a loose stone.
Digging his fingers in he was able to pull it out and reveal a set of stairs that led down into a dark chamber.
“Irene,” called Jude down the hole.
“Jude,” came a faint, groggy voice.  “Is that you?”
“Wait there, Irene,” called Jude, shifting the rest of the blocks to get down to her, before bounding down the stairs to her side.
Irene’s body was limp.  She was not even being able to lift her head to look at him, but she did manage a small smile.
“You've been poisoned,” he stammered, loosening the rope tied around her.  “You'll be okay, Irene.  I have something in my backpack that can counteract it.  We only bring one type of poison on any given mission, the same tasteless, odourless, untraceable poison, and I’m the one charged with keeping the antidote.  I’ll get you to my pack as soon as possible.  It’s only a few blocks away.”  He repeated, perhaps more for his sake than hers:  “You’ll be okay, Irene.  You’ll be okay.”
He froze.
“What's wrong?” she croaked.  “Is Yēšûă safe?”
Jude was very still.  He gradually lifted himself up off his haunches.
“What's wrong?”  Irene became still and her eyes widened.
“The rope is attached to a bomb.  Any great force could cause the bomb to detonate early.”
“Early?” gasped Irene.
Jude followed the rope to a large cylinder with a timer on it.  The numbers raced down.
“We have two minutes to get out of here,” Jude whispered.  “Don't move.”
“Can you cut the red wire or something?”
“This device is much too complex for me to even guess how to disarm it.”  He paused, and circled her seat with his eyes transfixed on the explosive device under it.  “Every bomb expert has a signature, and I recognise this signature.  It was built by a man named Andriy Vashchuk, one of the world's best bomb engineers.  His bombs have about four different security 'layers' you need to crack before you can even get to the bomb itself.  If you get one wrong, the bomb will explode.”
“How did they even get the bomb here?” Irene asked, her eyes darting about the room.  “You know what, I don’t care how they got it here.  What on Earth are we going to do?”
“They must've brought it in pieces.  But unless Alexander sent reinforcements I didn't even know he had access to, I cannot see how they could have assembled it so perfectly.”  Jude glanced at Irene.  “Irene, I've undone your knot as far as I can without triggering the bomb.  Do you think you could really carefully slip your hands out without pulling at the rope?”
“I'll try,” Irene swallowed.  “How long do we have?”
“18 seconds.”
The two were silent, their eyes fixated on each other, as Irene gently tried to wiggle her hands out of the knot behind her back.
As soon as her hands were free Jude tried to pull her to feet, but she collapsed at his feet.
Without saying a word, Jude heaved Irene up into his arms and raced up the stairs, through the hole and to the entry way.
The illuminated digits of the bomb counter fell: 0.03, 0.02, 0.01, 0.00.
Boom!!!
Fire balls leapt through the temple, obliterating the walls and roof into a cloud of debris that covered the village.
Jude lifted his head as a shower of soot rained down upon Irene and him.
“Jesus,” mumbled Irene, her consciousness flickering in and out.
“I know,” Jude coughed, “that was bloody close.”
“No,” breathed Irene, shaking her head.  “Jesus.  You must save Jesus.”
“You need to be treated,” he said, grabbing her sooty forearm to pull her up.
“No,” she said, “I’ll hold on.  Save Jesus.”
“Alright, but I’ll get the antidote on the way.”
A close escape!  But could this be Jesus' last supper?  Will Irene hold on?  Can Jude outwit a team of elite soldiers?  Keep repeating your prayers and keep your fingers crossed.

Tuesday, 13 November 2012

Chpt. 16 - Don't Shoot the Messenger (online book by Daniel Grant Newton)

Stylised photo of Don't Shoot the Messenger
For the previous chapters of Daniel Grant Newton's online book Don't Shoot the Messenger, click below:

Chapter 1      Chapter 2      Chapter 3      Chapter 4      Chapter 5      Chapter 6      Chapter 7      Chapter 8      Chapter 9      Chapter 10     Chapter 11      Chapter 12      Chapter 13      Chapter 14     
Chapter 15

_____________________________________________
Hey Shambhala Heroes!  Can you do something for me?  As you no doubt know, I am giving Don't Shoot the Messenger to you for free because I think it is a great story (bias I know!) that some people out there would love.  Thing is, I am not sure who they are - well, there's YOU... and my mum, Anabel, my coolest friends that I met in Vietnam, the readers who have written to me, and David Hasselhoff, but that's all I know for sure...  So if you know anyone who would like this book, please send them the trailer or the first chapter.  After all, a great story is only great when it is read - and your support will definitely encourage me to share more stories with you.  Thanks in advance, and I hope you continue enjoy reading it (and keep sending me those lovely messages)!  :-)
 _____________________________________________
 
-->
“Who are you?  And what do you want?” Irene hissed in Hebrew at the man in blue.  She was bound with rope, and sitting against the wall inside a cave on a high hill.
The man was kneeling at the entry to the cave, near his tied up horse, stoking a fire.
As she spoke, he glanced back at her with amber eyes that reflected the kindling flames, but did not answer her.
She repeated her questions in Aramaic, then Latin and Greek.  Still he did not answer.  Just chuckled softly.
“You can either release me, or someone I know will come and really make you pay,” she growled in Hebrew.
Once again he glanced at her, and once again he simply sniggered.
“I know you can understand me,” she continued, “and you don't want to mess with this man who is coming for me.  And now that the sun is coming up you won't have any shadows to slink into.”
“I know the man you talk about,” said the man in Aramaic.  “He is one of the men with strange weapons who have taken a keen interest in the teacher in the village.”  The man paused, before adding:  “But he will not find me.  By the time he comes looking for me, I will be gone.”
“What do you want with me?” Irene asked.  “He can pay you very well for my release.”
Even though the doctor could not see much of the man-in-blue's face, she could tell by the crinkling at the corners of his eyes that he was enjoying her threats.
“He could not pay me or my men enough,” said the bandit.
“I see you have a Roman sword, do they pay you?  How much do you want for my release?”
He stood up and strolled towards her.  The man then produced a blue scarf and bound her mouth with it.
“This shall keep your pretty little mouth quiet,” he laughed, before returning to his fire.
He moved past her into the cave, and returned with a bowl of dates and a dead fowl.
Her belly rumbled and her eyes followed the fowl being put over the fire.
Noticing her attention, the bandit smiled.  “This food is for you, not me.  I will make life as pleasant as possible before they come for you.”
After roasting the fowl, he placed the bowl of dates, a wooden bowl of water and the cooked meat by her side and sat before her.  He then unbound her mouth.
“That is so you can eat,” he explained, moving his hands away to avoid her snapping at him.
“Can you unbind me so I can eat?” she replied.
“If I did that, then I'm sure you would try to escape, and I may kill you,” he said flatly.
“What if I said that I wouldn't?”  Irene lowered her gaze and raised her eyebrows.  “Or are you the sick type of bandit who would take advantage of my position, and enjoy feeding me by hand?”
The man sighed, and leaned around Irene to untie the knot.  She could feel his breath on her back.
As soon as her hands were free she shoved him off her and drew his sword from its scarab.  She held it at him.
“Get back or I'll kill you,” her shaky voice warned.
“You are so predictable,” he growled before launching himself at her.
They rolled on the floor, both struggling to get a hold of the sword.  He pinned her and the sword down on the cave floor and stared into her eyes.
Irene scowled at the man in blue, before kneeing him in the crutch and pushing him off her.  He watched her sprint out of the cave.
But before the dust she kicked up could settle, she hurried back in.
“We've got to get out of here,” she screamed at the man.  “The men with 'the strange weapons' are coming.”
The man picked himself up off the ground and dusted himself off.  “I know, I saw them coming.  That is why I didn't bother chase after you.”
“We got to go,” she said, pulling at his sleeves, “you don't understand how dangerous they are.”
“Very dangerous, I hope,” the man replied.  “I would not like to see your beautiful looks go to waste.”
Irene stared at the man for a second, before trying to run further into the cave.  The bandit however grabbed her and held her tight.
The light at the end of the tunnel was blocked by the shadows of six men.  These men ducked their heads and made their way into the cave.
It was the soldiers minus Zhang (and Jude).
Spider carried two suit cases and placed them on the floor.  He unclipped them and waved a hand over the contents inside.
One suitcase displayed two rows of grenades, and one row of chemical gas canisters.  The other suitcase was filled with bullets.
Spider then motioned towards five rifles and a pile of C4 now leaning up against the cave wall.
“What on earth are you doing, Spider?” spat Irene.
“I am swapping you for a few toys,” the tall Brit responded.  “Alexander was well aware that Jude and you may not follow orders.  It was a possibility in the holographic matrix.”
The bandit pushed Irene into Spiders arms, and the big man led her out with a pistol to her back.  “So he had me bring a note to give to this man.  The 'man in blue', the Robin Hood of the Roman Empire.  If anything was to go wrong, I would deliver this letter to his associates, show them our weapons, and meet him here to swap some excess weaponry for you.”
Spider led Irene down the hill with his five comrades flanking him.
“You swapped technology that is two thousand years more advanced for Jude and myself.”
“No, just you,” Spider grinned.  “The matrix showed us that he would help you escape, and try to stop us by himself like the hero he thinks he is.
"And capturing you was always going to be a problem.  We knew he would be able to get you past us, evasion is a specialty of his.  However, the 'man-in-blue' is one of the best guerrilla fighters in this area.  In this time, he is as much a legend as he is a man.  The matrix indicated he would get you where we would have failed.”
“I don't understand,” Irene muttered.  “What do you want with me, anyway?”
“You are bait for Mr. Stone.  He is a difficult fish to catch, but use someone he cares about, and he loses perspective and takes stupid risks.  It is a weakness he recognises and tries to guard himself against.”
Spider chuckled.  "That was your main purpose for coming along.  Sure, your know-how was integral and much appreciated, but getting Jude 'Stone-Heart' Stone to care about somebody, that was tricky.  The matrix indicated we had to get someone halfway around the world for that."
There was a silence as they moved down the hill and towards the village.
“Look, you can't just give someone advanced weapons like this, Spider,” protested Irene, breaking the silence.  “Killing Jesus is one thing, but giving a man like this that kind of weaponry is insane.  You have no idea what repercussions it could have.”
“We do actually,” Spider grinned.  “Jude is a great soldier and a great strategist, but he is very erratic.  We have to keep him out of the loop sometimes, and we had to keep you out of the loop, too, of course.  But that doesn't mean this wasn't also part of the original plan.
“You see, by giving this rebel group a few guns and bombs, the Roman Catholic Church, or any derivative of it, will never eventuate.  It is literally saving the mental enslavement of billions of people, and put the progress of the world hundreds or thousands of years ahead.
“As you said, it wasn't Jesus who wanted the church and organised religion.  So cutting out his tongue would simply stop Christianity, but another much more violent Abrahamic church would rise in its place.  You need to cut the weed at the roots.”
“So what if you didn't kill Jesus, but destroyed the church?”
“If that were to happen, then, although there would be only small pockets of it, Christianity would still exist.  And the possibilities for such a church rising up could come about in the future.  So it is important he is dead, but it is by no means the main game.”  Spider smirked.  “We have thought of everything, doctor.”
“Who do you mean by we?  I can't imagine anyone on the research team to recommend this extreme cause of action.  I know each member, most on a personal level, and none of them are this crazy,” exclaimed Irene.
“You are right,” said Spider, now leading Irene up the stairs of the village's temple.  “This further research was done by Alexander and me.  Scientists don't have the balls to make decisions like this.”
Irene struggled to break free, but Spider held strong.  One of the soldiers came to Irene with a needle and injected it into her neck.  After a few moments of struggle she slumped into the soldier's arms.
“Take her to the chamber and set the bomb to go off just before Yēšûă speaks,” said Spider, handing her limp body to Chernova.  “We don't want him to try to stop us killing Yēšûă before the fireworks.”
Click here for the heart-pounding, action-packed Chapter 17 ... also, don't forget to let your friends and family know about this book, and of course, check out my book The Last King of Shambhala at your favourite online book store.