It was pitch black. The air was damp, musty. A cool breeze gently rustled through the trees providing cover as the small dark figure stealthily crept forward. Chip strained his ears, silently halting his movements, to listen intently for the faintest sound that might betray that his presence had been detected. It was difficult to hear, above the racket of his furiously thumping heart. It sounded like thunder in his ears. A tree branch relentlessly jabbed his ribcage, rocks pressed sharply into his left knee. He ignored them both, intent on completing his mission.
The darkness wasnít bothersome; he knew the layout of the compound as well as he knew his own name. As a seasoned soldier he had spent every waking moment for days poring over the mission directives, carefully studying each detail, planning for every contingency. He knew he could not fail, no matter what the cost, innocent lives depended on it.
His mission: scale the rock face, climb to the top of the 100 foot precipice, slither across the plateau along the drainage ditch to the far side of the north entrance. There he would locate the access panel leading to the underground ventilation shaft. After repelling down it, he would painstakingly cut his way through the steel bars guarding its base. Once inside he would simply follow the power relay to its main hub in order to disable the energy source feeding the security system. He would have to move quickly, evading multiple foot details to reach Solomon undetected.
Solomon; a lame code name, but the moniker stuck due to its claim to wisdom, mimicking the biblical counterpart. In actuality, Solomon was nothing more than an elaborate bio human computer prototype, yet deemed key to the future existence of mankind. Chip would need to download Solomonís hard drive before uploading its replacement. It would be a tricky process, requiring his famous, lightening fast butterfly touch. Good thing he possessed nerves of steel!
Solomon could not be allowed to masquerade amongst the population, infecting innocents with the virus that would leave them brain dead; little more than human zombies going through the motions of life, alive, but dead all the same. The walking dead!
Chip belonged to an elite fighting force. When his commander asked for volunteers, Chip immediately stepped front and center. He was ready to sacrifice his life if necessary, whatever it took to rescue the prisoners. Chip wished more were a part of the resistance. Many seemed to be either paralyzed by fear, blatantly indifferent, or beguiled by the virus already infecting them. Ultimately, Chip wanted to be one of those who would make a difference. He would be that one! Goliath, Solomonís creator would soon learn that the head of his prize prototype had been completely cut off. Unable to sustain its elaborate network connections, Solomonís ruse would soon be exposed. Goliath would fail! Truth would prevail and those infected with the virus would have a chance to accept the life saving treatment that would make them whole and immune to the effects of the virus.
Chip shifted his position slightly, peering into the distance searching for the signal to begin. The rest of his team would be leading various attacks on other fronts. There it was, light shinning on the horizon. It grew closer. Chip felt exhilarated! Peace, anticipation flooded him. His sign had come!
Chip purposefully inhaled deeply, one long breath, holding it for ten seconds, before exhaling slowly, deliberately releasing himself, his cares, and the mission into his heavenly Fatherís hands.
Looking toward the light, Chip started to move forward but found he could not. His knee was caught fast! Using all his strength he pushed forward. Oomph! His face kissed the dirt! Stifling a grunt, Chip lifted his head, working a stick out of his mouth with his tongue. Carefully he began to unravel his body attempting to move his limbs into a crouching position. He was pinned to the ground.
Desperation welled up, "I have a mission! Must complete the mission!"
Chip struggled furiously to free himself.
His ribs hurt. He was caught in a vice.
An annoying rumbling grew louder.
"Chip, Chip wake up! Youíre dreaming, wake up, son!"
Suddenly, Chip was wide awake.
His heart was racing, but his mind was perfectly clear.
God had spoken in the depths of his heart.
Chip knew exactly what God wanted.
One question remained; did he have the courage, the faith, to obey?
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