Fiction

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The first son:
“While I was with them in the world, I kept them in thy name: those that thou gavest me I have kept, and none of them is lost, but the son of perdition; that the scripture might be fulfilled.”
John 17:12 (KJV)
The second son:
“Let no man deceive you by any means: for that day shall not come, except there come a falling away first, and that man of sin be revealed, the son of perdition; Who opposeth and exalteth himself above all that is called God, or that is worshipped; so that he as God sitteth in the temple of God, shewing himself that he is God.”.
2 Thessalonians 2:3,4 (KJV)

Chapter 1
Sven Granger strode up the entrance stairs of his office building two at a time. He shivered as the cold cut through his clothes and the wind toyed with his hair. Noticing other people wrapped up in protective clothing, he smiled at his folly at not having dressed accordingly. There were many people active this early on a Monday morning.
The city of Washington was experiencing a colder than normal autumn and Sven imagined the heat of his passion competing with the surrounding cold. There was a new determination stirring within him, fostering something he had never experienced before.
Sven held a Masters degree in Biochemistry and was the head of investigative research. He had worked here for just over four years and enjoyed his job. Some of his colleagues were also believers and Sven had become friends with many.
As Sven approached the glass frontage of the building, he noted that his sandy blonde hair had lost its battle with the wind. The image reminded him to get his hair cut before his presentation. He stopped in front of the glass security doors to the building. They did not open. Sven looked up at the mechanism and, sighing, bounced up and down to activate the system. With no success, he stopped moving and waved his hands above his head. It worked. The doors opened with an almost imperceptible electronic swoosh. The painted name on the doors subconsciously registered in his mind as it had enumerable times before:
The Government Obstetrics Department
As he watched the opening doors, his mind played with the acronym bandied around by all who worked here; everyone liked to joke that they worked for ‘G.O.D.’. With a smile Sven entered the building. The electronic doors closed silently behind him as he made his way toward his office. The sound of his shoes made the hollow sound that comes from long, open passages void of plant life, wall decorations, or atmosphere.
* * *
Sven’s jacket was too small for his muscular frame, pulling tightly across the shoulders. The tweed had lost its battle with time; originally amber, it was now a used soft brown.
This day was going to be a lot more strenuous than normal. He was scheduled to present his case on abortion before his peers and the heads of Government Departments, some of whom he knew hated him with a contempt he recognized as inhuman. Besides dealing with his peers, he knew the spirit realm would also be active.
Passing by Sheila’s office, he noticed she was not yet at her desk, so he changed direction and headed toward the kitchen. Soon the coffee grinder was laboring away at the fresh beans churning in the plastic canister. Sven sniffed in the tantalizing aroma of the percolating coffee as he left the kitchen. Letting the brew develop its unique flavor, he entered his office. As he closed the door behind him, he glanced around the office and assessed his priorities. Piles of paperwork on the desk, notes stuck on the sides of the computer screen, and plants hanging in their pots looking neglected. “Water the plants today!” Sven made a mental note along with prioritizing which of the folders and notes he would tackle first.
Taking a deeper and longer sigh, he straightened himself, pushed away from the door frame, and took a purposeful step into the office, recommitted and focused on getting the job done to the level of excellence he knew his God expected from him. As he sat down at his desk, he said a quiet prayer.
“Lord, help me beat this fear that is trying to swamp me. Father, You know I am going to face some powerful people today and most of them hate me for what I stand for. The attack is more spiritual than physical, but I am still taking some strain. Please give me Your strength today Lord as I face people that hate us both so much.”
The metal joints of the chair reacted as Sven settled his lithe frame into it. “Father, I know you say that through You I have overcome the world, yet I feel like today is going to be the turning point in this job…and for that matter…in my life. Father I ask for Your peace and reassurance as I go and face these people that think they are so wise, and yet you say they are fools. Teach me how to care for them and not judge them. Please give me an abundance of grace no matter what they come up with…or whatever arguments or accusations they might sling at me. In accordance with your Word, I ask you to send your ministering Angels ahead of me so that I will find favor and that my enemies will not be able to come against me in any way, spiritually, physically or verbally. I ask this in the name of your Son, Jesus Christ…Amen.”
As he handed his cares to God, Sven relaxed and contentment seeped into every fiber of his being. Today he would hold his head high and be bold. He believed he was here for God’s purpose, and no matter what, he would succeed.
There was a soft knock at his door.
“Come in.”
The door opened and Sheila stepped into the office with a large mug of coffee. She was immaculately dressed in an elegantly cut business suit. Sven noted how the blue of the suit enhanced her auburn colored hair, and the white shirt offset the gold of her ornate pendant.
“Good morning, big guy!” she said as she walked across the office and placed the mug on the desk. Her reference to his size was an intimate tease. Sheila stood just over five feet in her socks and Sven towered over her by more than one and a half feet.
“Hi Sheila, had a good weekend? Oh, before I forget, Rebecca sends her love.”
Sheila smiled; she was fond of Sven’s fiancé and they had become good friends. “Send my love and tell her I won’t let you get away with anything…as for a good week end, it was okay, I guess. I had boyfriend trouble again.”
“What do you see in this guy?’ Sven asked absentmindedly, and then her past flashed into his mind. Catching himself, he apologized. He felt guilty about making such a shallow and judgmental comment. “Sorry, that just slipped out, I was not thinking…my bad!”
“Oh, it’s okay. I guess I deserved that. I tend to look for the needy type…”
“Thanks for the coffee.” he said as he removed his jacket.
Sheila stepped forward, arm outstretched for the jacket, and then crossed the office to hang it behind the door.
“Thanks.”
“Worried about the presentation?”
“Yes, but I am not going to allow myself to be bullied into changing my views. I am going to lay it on the line today and I don’t care what happens!”
“Wow, what’s made you so determined?” Sheila turned from hanging the coat and continued to listen as she picked up the watering can and attended to the sad looking plants. Sven nodded his appreciation as he answered.
“I am going to do whatever I can to stop the slaughter, whatever it takes to make as much noise about abortion as I can! The majority of governments sweep the issue under the rug. It’s not right…we claim we are humane…yet we slaughter thousands of children every day!”
“What happened?” Sheila glanced up from a pot of desperate foliage.
Looking directly into her hazel colored eyes he explained. “I thought I knew all about abortion, what the media shows us, what people talk about, stories from friends, and the uninformed. Boy was I ever wrong! The media and false information have anesthetized us; we do not think it is important anymore, in fact we ignore issues around abortion because it has become the norm!”
He took a deep breath, “Did you know that the government says it is unethical to remove stem cells from an embryo after fourteen days? They say the embryo is then human. Yet, they allow abortions for up to twenty-four weeks and more…claiming that the baby is not yet alive!” His tone of voice changed expressing anger, “Talk about a contradiction?”
Sven told Sheila how he got a video on the different procedures of abortion from someone that used to work at one of the clinics. She listened intently as Sven told her that Bartholomew Matthew-Higgins had come around and they had watched the video. Sven shook his head as his mind revisited the images. The tape had affected them both.
Sven got up and paced the office, recalling the atrocities he had seen. “They are not clinics, they are human slaughter houses!”
This side of her boss was new to Sheila.
“I wanted to be sick…then I got extremely angry and found myself wanting to hurt the medical staff. What I mean is…we watched these murderers perform different abortion procedures on women.” He took a deep breath and slowed his verbal expression of horror. “Did you know that some fetuses are poisoned with salt? This causes them to start dissolving inside the mother and when taken from the womb, their little bodies are terribly burnt and disfigured. Another method is to slice up the baby in the womb using a curette, and then they suck the body pieces into a bottle with an extremely powerful vacuum. Others are dismembered inside the mother and then removed piece by piece.”
Sven struggled to control the shock of his experience and he eased his exasperation by leaning his forehead against the window in shame.
“By far the worst for me was to see doctors pull the baby feet first from the mother’s womb. The baby’s head remains inside the mother so that it does not take a breath. Legally, when the baby takes its first breath, it is then ‘alive’--and any further abortion is classified as murder! They jab scissors into the base of the baby’s skull and force the head open. The brain is then vacuumed out of the skull…they remove the brain while the kid is still alive! The lifeless little body is pulled out of the mother and discarded.”
Sheila gasped, her hand coming to her lips as her mind imagined what Sven was saying.
Anger replaced the deep regret, and Sven used it as his ally. He bunched his fists tightly and felt his emotions subsiding. Sven sighed deeply before continuing, his voice softening as he found a balance of emotions.
“Another shock for me was that the little bodies were put into plastic bags like I do with my garbage! I am horrified for these poor defenseless children.” Tears welled up in his eyes.
Taking a long moment to collect her thoughts, Sheila slowly came across the room and gently reached up to touch him on the shoulder. “You don’t have to talk about it.”
“Talk about it?” Sven snarled his determination through gritted teeth. “I am going to shout it from every roof top and at every opportunity! I will not be quiet anymore…those poor children…it was disgusting! I cannot get those images out of my mind.”
Sven took a moment to gather his thoughts before asking Sheila to arrange a meeting for the team. They needed to strategize an assault against what he and Bartholomew had witnessed.
Sheila turned and headed for the door. “Call me if you need anything,” she added softly as she gently closed it behind her.
Sven nodded.
This was his calling – his purpose!
Invisible to the human eye and standing in the corner of the office, stood Tritus, the Angel assigned to care for Sven. Light emanated from within him, his head touched the ceiling, and his robes girthed together at the waist by a braid of gold. The sword hanging on his hip was spectacular in its shape and size. “It is time,” he said as a smile crept onto his perfect face, showing his understanding for what Sven was dealing with.
“Glory to the Great I AM,” he said into the spirit realm as he stepped forward and gently touched Sven’s head for assurance. He leaned forward and spoke into Sven’s spirit. Only when he felt that Sven had received the pacifying gesture and words of console, did he remove his hand. Tritus turned and walked across the office and passed through the wall into the adjacent room.
Galeo, a huge angel of war was talking to Tipal and Valance. All turned to acknowledge Tritus’s entrance. Vigor, the dedicated messenger of the group, stepped forward, and asked for instructions.
“Report to the Lord that it has begun and that we request additional legions this afternoon while this child makes his presentation. Raath will bring many of the fallen. There is no chance of failure today, it is crucial not to let them secure any victory. We will conquer them if they come against our charge over this believer - he will fulfill the Lord’s plan and we shall not fail him.”
Tritus looked directly at Vigor, “Make it so!”
Vigor vanished in a twinkling as he went to express his orders to Sared, the special envoy to God. Sared would declare Tritus’s plan before the throne of the most high and return with instructions.
With one hand on his hip and the other holding his chin pensively, Tritus meditated on his mission. The prayer Sven had muttered earlier stirred the spirit realm. It had been short and yet powerful in its humility and resonated with faith. Tritus was thankful that Sven was praying again; it empowered them. He was bewildered at why the children of God were so inert in their prayer life. Tritus and the host of heaven were reliant on these prayers, no matter how short or bumbling. The prayers moved God, who in turn moved the angelic.
Without changing his posture, Tritus enquired if Senator Pritchard would be attending the presentation.
“He is expected,” stated Galeo. “I am wary of his presence at meetings of this sensitive nature. He is host to many of the fallen, besides the number that travel with him.”
“That always makes it challenging,” added Tritus with a smile as he once again melted through the wall into Sven’s office, where he found the man sitting pensively.
Tritus took up his position behind the child of God.

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