Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Chapter 35

35
JERUSALEM, ISRAEL

JERUSALEM Rabbi Mordecai Schumann, speaking for the Rabbinic Council, a well respected voice in mainstream Judaism, addressed the Jesus question today after a full Council meeting. "No we didn't discuss it. He wasn't the Messiah last time, and he isn't the Messiah this time. It doesn't matter how many times you try it, it just doesn't count till you get it right."

JERUSALEM The Israeli Government extended its alert status for all armed forces including its air force. Prime Minister Ben Munn noted that the alert would continue as long as what he called "sectarian unrest" remained a security concern.

Monday, November 29, 2010

Chapter 36

36
GOVERNMENT HOUSE, RIO DE JANEIRO

Beatrice brought a nice lunch of soup and sandwiches out to the pool, inquiring before her approach about their state of dress. "How did things go with the Minister of the Interior? What did he want anyway?"

"The President wants to control all of Jesus' money and direct everything He says in exchange for helping us. Minister Rimmer is not a very good crook or a very good liar. I can hardly imagine what he might mean by 'helping' us." Juan offered as an account of what had happened.

"We had fun tricking them, but these are powerful people, and I am concerned about their intentions. At least they think we are complete savages now. Perhaps that will throw them off balance a little." He smiled at Beatrice, "You know we aren't really all that savage. We are still having trouble with a lot of things in this world, but we're learning fast."

Beatrice smiled back in a caring motherly way. "Yes. I think You are learning fast."

Jesus broke in, holding a business card. "This is the name of our attorney, Victor Santos. We need to talk to him."

"It's time for You to learn to use the telephone. Here, now watch how I do it. It's very simple really." She held up the card, pointing at the number. "Just press the buttons in the same order as they appear on the card. Speak in here and listen up here. You can have a conversation just as if the other party were in this room with You."

Jesus placed the call, then waited. "A man told Me that no calls were allowed in or out of the Government House due to security precautions and to try My call later. Do you know how much later he means, Beatrice?"

"This is bad. I think events may be coming sooner than we planned. You two stay here and wait for me to return. There may still be a way." The woman left the room hurriedly, taking care to close the door firmly behind her. From the other side of the door she called back, "Now lock the door. Don't let anyone in but me."

At that moment General Rudolfo Ortiz, Commander of the State Security Forces, was approaching the mansion with two trucks filled with State Security troops. The President had just called, again.

"General, I just talked to Rimmer. He's got a tape of Jesus Robeles admitting, more or less, that He needs counseling to get over the island and to learn to fit into civilization. I think we can commit Him for his own safety on the basis of that -- Votri and Kastner are witnesses. We can count on them." The voice on the other end of the call droned on. "Whatever we do, we need to get it done fast. I've got a Judge ready to start our commitment hearing whenever we get there."

"I'm about twenty-minutes from the mansion right now. I have enough troops with me to secure the place against 'threats' and seal it off. I have already started routing all telephone service to my base switchboard. No calls are getting in or out, Mr. President." General Ortiz reported.

"Good. Good. We're ready to leak the press release. If we can't get Him to cooperate, we'll use the stock story that the guy is crazy from being on the island. The government has had to step in to protect Him, place Him in protective custody in a top-notch mental hospital along with all the other people who think they're Napoleon. We're going to say we had to move fast because some lawyer was trying to steal His inheritance. It'll work."

"Mr. President, have your people got anything on the name of the lawyer? If I had a name it would help. I'll arrest that son-of-a-bitch in a heartbeat. I don't care where he is."

"The name is Santos, and as far as we can tell he is sitting on a yacht off Ponta Do Arpoador. The ship moved out of Guanabara Bay last night and I don't think it was headed for a holiday in Copacabana. This lawyer's got some juice, General. You be careful of him. For your information, that ship is an ocean-ready two hundred footer with a chopper. They are ready to move our Man to international water if they get a chance."

"Sir, I plan to remove all the Interior Ministry security people and replace them with my own troops. I'm almost certain that Rimmer's got leaks in his organization. I agree with your assessment of Santos. I am certain that he has sources in the House."

"Count on that, General. My own people are sure Santos is getting information from operatives here, too. Get this done as quickly as possible, and keep me informed on this secure line."

Victor Santos adjusted his tie after he removed the headset. "One would think that the President would have taken greater care with his communications on such a politically delicate situation." He turned to the man seated across the helicopter's passenger compartment as he reached for his coffee. "Have you arranged for the rest of our people to meet us?" Peering out the window of the chopper he could see the outskirts of Rio de Janeiro moving by rapidly below.

"They will be right on time. We should all land at the same time -- about three minutes." answered his aide. The man returned to his conversation via head set.



After a few moments, Beatrice knocked at the door to the room. Jesus answered. She entered with a burlap bag, asking "Why didn't You lock the door as I asked?"

"We examined the door carefully, but neither of us had any idea what you were talking about when you asked us to do that. Everything turned out alright, though. The door is still here." Jesus answered sincerely.

"I have brought a special telephone which will be able to call Mr. Santos. Here, let me dial it for You." As she fumbled in the bag for the cell phone, a loaded MAC-10 and extra clips rolled out onto the table. "Don't be too concerned about the gun. Mr. Santos only insisted that we have that in the event we needed a little more time."

The call connected. "This is Jesus Robeles. I am calling to talk to Mr. Victor Santos. Is he there?" The device was clearly a little intimidating.

"Well good morning, Sir. This is Victor Santos and I am so very pleased to finally have a chance to speak with You."

"Will you help us with the agreement from the Interior Minister?"

"Don't worry too much about that agreement. In fact, I am on my way there right now. I am bringing some of Your people with me along with some other friends."

"Are you coming here? To the Government House?"

"Yes, Jesus. My chopper will be landing in just about a minute. Until then, though, I want to ask You and Juan to stay with Beatrice. She works for You and she is a very capable lady. This is very important. Please just stay with her and do as she asks."

As He finished the call, helicopters began landing all around the building. Armed men disembarked, rushing away from them in every direction. Just as suddenly, the helicopters were gone again, and the men seemed to have disappeared completely. Jesus and Juan watched in fascination from their balcony.

Beatrice now called them back into the house. "Get down low for me, will you?"

As his helicopter landed, Victor Santos could hear the rumble of the troop transports of General Ortiz's convoy. Two trucks filled with State Security troops was about what he had expected. He ushered the judge and clerk into the house quickly and sent the special troops he had brought directly to the room where Beatrice, Jesus and Juan waited.

Santos himself stood on the great front portico and continued to sip his coffee from a fine china cup and saucer.

Acting in the character of State Security, that is, in the character of this particular force or any other of a myriad of organizations like it from around the world, Ortiz and his troops could not resist the opportunity for a dramatic arrival. They drove their trucks onto the lawn creating deep gouges of mud and torn grass which would remain long after this affair was ended. Beatrice, watching from the balcony, clucked her tongue in a timeless and universal matriarchal disapproval.

Santos' people were good. Before the truck engines had fallen silent six of them with heavy rocket launchers stepped out of the bushes and took aim. Two dozen men with assault rifles filled in between the rocket launchers. Ortiz's soldiers complied with the order to toss all weapons, including knives out of the back of the trucks.

They were ordered to leave.

General Ortiz refused to exit his limo. With all weapons trained on the staff car, Mr. Santos strolled up to the General's open window. "Good afternoon, General Ortiz. I'm sorry to have interrupted your dirty business here. Perhaps you would care to join me inside. The trial is about to begin. Perhaps you will wish to represent the President's claim that my client is not mentally competent.?"

Ortiz, not being one to be bluffed, answered gruffly. "You are under arrest. You can't just appear here with armed men to take things into your own hands. I am under the direct order of the President."

"Actually, you are the one who has appeared here illegally with armed men. All these people you see are officers of the court, securing a calm and beneficial environment for the prosecution of justice, not that you would care much about that. It's all quite legal. Perhaps someday, when you run out of bullets, you will consider reading the statutory code you are always so willing to overlook." He continued. "Do come in. The competency hearing won't take but a moment, and I really would like for you to witness it."

The same sitting room had been transformed into a sort of court with the addition of a line of dining room chairs. The judge's bench was an overstuffed wing back set a little ways in front of the others. Jesus, Juan and Beatrice comprised Plaintiff and witnesses. General Ortiz represented the interests of the Brazilian Government. A video camera operated by one of Victor Santos' men recorded everything. The judge's black robe added credibility to the scene. The clerk quickly held up a Bible for swearing testimony.

"Do all parties to this hearing swear to tell the truth, so help you God?" the clerk rattled off rapidly. All agreed.

"I present my client, Plaintiff Jesus Robeles, who appears here to pray for relief from all attempts, both pending and anticipated, to establish His incompetence to manage and direct His personal affairs for any reason existing on this date." Victor Santos' voice was soft, yet direct. The effect was almost hypnotic.

The Judge leaned forward. "Jesus Robeles, has there ever been a time prior to this when a court with jurisdiction has found You to be incompetent or impaired mentally such that You were unable to manage Your personal affairs in a manner commensurate with other reasonable men?"

"No." Jesus answered simply.

The judge continued. "Are You now or have You ever been under the care of a medical doctor for any condition which might make You unable to manage Your own affairs?"

Jesus repeated His previous answer.

"Finally, because there is no medical opinion relevant to Your case in this hearing, the law requires a simple majority of three witnesses attesting to Your competence. Do You object to any witness present to testify in this matter?"

"I am not certain that General Ortiz really knows Me very well, but I am sure he is a fair minded man. I don't object to any of them, Sir."

"Juan Gemarro, in your long association with Jesus Robeles have you ever seen Him act in a manner suggesting that He was incompetent or mentally impaired?"

"No." Juan answered.

"Beatrice Fluez, during the time you have known Jesus Robeles have you ever seen Him act in a manner suggesting that He was incompetent or mentally impaired?"

"No, your honor." Answered Beatrice.

"Does anyone here speak against the granting of this relief injunction?" The judge was moving at top speed. but he was clearly avoiding eye contact with the General. Both the judge and the clerk were openly afraid of the military man.

General Ortiz stood and began to speak. "Your honor, this man, Jesus Robeles, is incompetent. This man believes He is Jesus Christ. He needs to be under care until His mental condition stabilizes. You would not allow a delusional man who believes He is Jesus Christ to wander the streets, especially when He is very wealthy. Such a vulnerable person will attract all sorts of unsavory characters with designs to take advantage of Him." still glaring at Santos, the General continued. "It is the position of the Government that. . . "

The judge interrupted his testimony. "General I saw two truckloads of armed State Security soldiers shortly after my arrival here. I think we all know what the, er, position of the government is."

"The Relief Injunction is granted. Anticipating this outcome of this hearing, I took the liberty of preparing the court order prior to my departure." The judge signed the injunction with an oversized fountain pen. The clerk immediately sealed the signature and handed the paper to Mr. Santos. "This hearing of the Federal Court is adjourned. Mr. Jesus Robeles, I have injoined any attempt to place You in any sort of custodial relation against Your wishes."

Santos stood up, placing the court order in his brief case. "Thank you, your honor. Now. Everyone outside. The choppers are here, and I suspect that this goon's troops are on their way back by now. Jesus, Juan, please come with me. Beatrice. Good work. Be certain that you hitch a ride out of here to safety. Take a rest and then report to your section chief."

Ortiz was on fire. "Santos, I'll never let you get away with this and you know it. Did you think you could make an armed threat against State Security forces on official business and then just forget it?"

"General, you should be on your knees saying a prayer of gratitude that you were facing my people. We only shoot bullets. If we hadn't been here in time, you and your men would have been facing the wrath of Jesus. Go back and tell the President to leave us alone. I have a video tape of more than the trial. I swear I'll put it all on El Globo. I'll let everyone in Brazil see you and your troops fall apart in front of Jesus' unarmed lawyer. I'll even throw in a tape of your telephone conversation with the President from your car on the way in here. The people of Brazil will be interested on how their government tried to sneak up on Jesus, take His money and lock Him up. Your buddy the President might not like that very much. It's death for elections!"

"That's extortion, Santos. I can convict you of that, and I may do it, too." General Ortiz threatened with a certain air of desperation in his voice.

"Leave us alone, Ortiz. You leave us alone, and tell Rimmer to leave us alone and tell the President to leave us alone. I think I've said everything I had on my mind." Santos turned away from the soldier and walked toward the last helicopter. Jesus and Juan were already on board.

As the helicopter lifted away, Jesus could see the general walking toward the pile of rifles laying on the lawn. Just before he was out of sight in the distance, he threw his hat on the ground and kicked it.

Jesus looked at his lawyer. "Mr. Santos, what is my wrath?"

The attorney gave a deep, good natured laugh. "I have no idea, Sir. I have no idea at all." Then he continued to chuckle. The laughter was infectious and cathartic. Jesus and Juan also began a hearty laugh. Spirits were high. The journey from Paraneho had finally brought them behind friendly lines.

After the helicopter had passed some ways over the ocean, a sizable yacht appeared not far ahead. Peering from his window Jesus asked. "Whose beautiful ship is that?"

"Its Yours, of course." Santos responded. "Let me welcome both of You to the Resurrection."

Within a few moments they were disembarking onto the heliport of the private yacht. The orange skies of sunset lit the bay as the city lights of Rio de Janeiro began to twinkle in the distance.

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Chapter 37

37
THE WHITE HOUSE

President Haskill met with Tom Hanneman in the back office while the Joint Chiefs were gathering in the Oval Office down the hall. The President had a look about him that told everyone he was in a Presidential mood and that he was probably going to attempt to be Presidentially demanding. Hanneman dismissed it out of hand. He had seen it before.

"Right now I need to prep you for your meeting with the Joint Chiefs. There is lot going on around the world, mostly centered on Jesus Robeles." Hanneman reached for a note pad. "First, your soldier boys were trying to start a war with Brazil. Admiral Galter ordered ships from the Cuban blockade toward Rio, but they are just now getting underway. Ratcliff moved some assets around to get in on the same plan. It's not clear what they were doing, but the Brazilians know about it. Falau's hot as hell, but he's not saying much, which isn't like him."

"Second, The Vatican is going to get ugly. You'd think we had stolen some of their jewels or something. We still don't want to communicate directly with the Papal Nuncio, but my people have been talking to some lower echelon types. As far as they're concerned, Jesus Robeles, whom they consider to be a helpless waif with a monster check book, has been kidnapped by his lawyer. Where we're heading with this is that if they can't recover control of Jesus, they are going to denounce him as a fake and a fluke of nature. By denounce, I mean really denounce. If that happens we'll be in the middle of it. You'll get your chance to prove the U.S. can conduct two wars simultaneously -- one with Brazil and one with the Vatican." Hanneman was preparing a careful list of his points as he spoke.

"Oh God." the President groaned.

"Finally, and Admiral Peale will probably have more to say about this, the rioting is worse -- lots worse. L.A. was a war zone last night. Same crap. Police won't move on it. Everybody's afraid to call the military after Baltimore. My people talked to the Mayor. His solution to it all is for the Fundamentalists to win and drive the anti-Christ out of town, totally partisan. The guy is more like a damned cheerleader than a concerned public servant. With that going on there's not a chance in hell of peace breaking out before the elections." Hanneman ripped off the top sheet of the note pad and handed it to the President.

"One last thing, Mr. President, without the 'help' of your Joint Chiefs I have managed to arrange to get this Man into the United States. I think we can both see what kind of effort those boys with the bugles are going to bring to the table. This is a time for cool heads. I can manage this thing if I am free to maneuver without the interference of the Congress or the State Department. Legitimate government can work if I have a free hand with this, but if those bunglers get very involved in this my, shall we say, opportunities begin to narrow. I hate these screwed up deals. They can give covert operations a bad name."

"Tom, I would be lost without you. Keep up the good work." President Haskill stood up, "I need to go meet with Peale and the Joint Chiefs. Thanks, again."

President Haskill strolled into the oval office and sat down at his desk. Pointedly leaving Admiral Peale and General Forda to remain standing, a very unusual development for this Commander in Chief. The air in the room was thick with a heady mixture of Presidential panic and gloom. The President's action was clearly not an oversight. The remainder of the Joint Chiefs filed in, early for the meeting, duly shocked by the formality of the scene that greeted them.

"No Danish this morning." Admiral Galter whispering under his breath to General Ratcliff, the Air Force Chief, took the role of a punished school boy .

"Gentlemen. I'd like for each of you to explain to me, one at a time, of course, exactly why I have to read about my intentions to invade Brazil in the morning edition of the New York Times. Or perhaps, I'm just unfortunately not on the 'need-to-know' list. I'll have to be a hell of a lot more convinced than I am right now before this country is going to attack a non-belligerent with whom we have half a dozen mutual defense treaties." The President spoke with surgical precision.

"The nuclear frigates are just a squeeze action, nothing more than a squeeze!" blurted out Admiral Galter. The other officers groaned inwardly. One of their own had shown fear. "The Cuban blockade is just as solid as ever. The blockade group around Cuba is going to be six ships short for two days. We will be adding three ships from the North Atlantic Fleet by tomorrow night. Plus, the squeeze is on now. The Brazilians haven't said anything on the diplomatic level, but the military attache tells me their mad as hell. Mr. President, a gentle push on the Brazilians could net you five to ten points on approval polls. If you want the Brazilians to release their 'Jesus', somebody's gonna' have to get a bloody nose before it's done."

"See! See what I mean! Its provocative, God dammit! You're halfway to starting a damned war and I'm just now finding out! Hell! Better than half way!" President Haskill

"Do you think I hadn't thought about pushing them a little? Damn straight I did! But what do you want me to do? Just pack up this military disaster with my reelection and pitch the whole damn thing in the dumper?

"State has already evaluated the cooperation potential at next to zero with Falau's government. Hell! They're burning U.S. Flags in the streets of Rio! I've got either a riot or something like one in about forty per cent of the cities in this country. The bright side is that there isn't anyone left over from the Jesus Savior Jesus anti-Christ riots to start an anti-war riot."

"Mr. President, we all felt that sailing the Caribbean fleet off their shore would move them a little. You know, move them toward reason. They can't possibly want to get their butts kicked over this guy." Admiral Galter sheepishly offered a means to rehabilitate his actions.

Admiral Peale, National Security Advisor, interrupted. "It's pretty clear that they do. Remember that losing a war to the U.S. is the third world equivalent of the red badge of courage. Look at Iraq. Look at Algeria and Libya. Whatever your intentions, Admiral, you've managed to get a nation of a hundred and forty five million people on full military alert. Regardless of the military prospects, your re-election campaign doesn't want to go there. Mr. President, I strongly urge you to withdraw the Aegis cruisers, at least another two hundred miles, continue the blockade of Cuba -- let them be the kicking boy, they're used to it."

"Admiral Peale, work with State and the spin whizzes to suck the energy out of this war is imminent thing. I want either parakeets standing on that story or fish wrapped in it by the end of this week.

"And gentlemen, don't do anything else until you talk to me." President Haskill's even tone betrayed his seriousness. Everyone present was imagining stars disappearing from his epaulets.

Saturday, November 27, 2010

Chapter 38

38
GLOBAL IUP WIRE SERVICE


UNITED NATIONS, NEW YORK The U.S. Ambassador to the United Nations accused Brazil of following a "reckless and dangerous" path by not allowing the Brazilian Jesus to travel to the U.S. "Given the degree of civil strife now unfolding in the U.S., violence which could conceivably be resolved through open public access to the Brazilian Jesus, it is unconscionable for the government of Brazil to continue on its present course. It is as if they have chosen to use their control over this man as a weapon against the U.S." said UN Ambassador Neils Stafford. "The administration views Brazil's continued intransigence as a grave development."

WASHINGTON, D.C. The State Department today placed in effect a complete ban on all travel to Brazil from any point of departure in the U.S. In an unprecedented move, all consular staff in Brazil have been recalled. U.S. citizens en route to Brazil aboard cruise liners have been instructed to remain on board during calls at any Brazilian ports. Americans presently in that country have been urged to depart for neighboring states at once.

WASHINGTON, D.C. Six members of the House Foreign Affairs Committee opened hearings yesterday concerning the personal safety of the man, Jesus, while He remains under de facto house arrest by the Brazilian government in Rio De Janeiro. Capitol Hill insiders attribute the action to the large numbers of Neo-Apostolics in the Districts of the Congressmen. Recent polls (Smith-Abner) report majorities as high as seventy per cent among some of these constituencies. Any rescue attempt for Jesus will require a full floor debate if and when the legislation is released from the Committee.

LOS ANGELES AM Radio Minister Buck Stratton in his daily message yesterday made note of the satellite photo published in London this week as he asked his audience, "There you have it. Would the real Jesus swim naked like some fallen libertine? Right out in the open where he could be photographed like some movie star? Running around naked pretty well solves the divinity question. This man, if it indeed is a man, ain't even actin' like a Christian, much less like the Son of God. It's the anti-Christ."

RIO DE JANEIRO Brazil increased the level of its state of alert as of midnight last night. All units of the Brazilian Army, Air Force and Navy are now on full alert status. President Georges Falau spoke to the Brazilian people yesterday afternoon. "Brazil is an independent, autonomous nation. We have a right to defend our national territory and people from invasion by any state. Because the United States has illegal and insurmountable influence with the United Nations we no longer look to that imperfect body for assistance. Your government has made requests from our loyal friends in South America for military assistance. Many have agreed. Our good friends in Peru, Ecuador, Paraguay and Chile are, at present, standing by to render any assistance possible. We are in high level discussions at this time which would provide for Cuban troops and weapons systems to be flown to this country. I invite the people of Brazil to join me in a prayer of gratitude for the solidarity of our friends at this difficult time."

WASHINGTON, DC A Pentagon spokesman announced in a news conference this afternoon that no planning for an invasion of Brazil was under consideration. The Joint Chiefs, present at the conference, insisted that the presence of two carriers and support ships on station off Guantanamo Bay Naval Station was required to quarantine Cuban foreign adventures. The State Department repeated its position that the US would not allow Cuban forces and arms to be moved to destinations in South America. The Joint Chiefs also reiterated the position that the isolation of the Cuban island would be maintained with any military force required.

WASHINGTON, DC President Haskill today asked all parties in the growing confrontation to step back, vowing that the US would reexamine its own position. Presidential sources say the President intends to do some "soul searching" before proceeding. Meanwhile, two Aegis class guided missile frigates and support ships remain about one hundred miles off the Brazilian coast.

Friday, November 26, 2010

Chapter 39

39
PALACE OF THE PRESIDENT, BRASILIA, BRAZIL
"General, I afraid that your performance at Government House was less than we expected. This whole thing is slipping through our fingers as we speak, in large thanks to your bungling! If it weren't for your brother-in-law's support of this administration, I wouldn't have to keep coming to you to solve my problems." President Falau was no babe in the woods when it came to Brazilian politics.

"We have good intelligence that the Americans are coming here to take Him out, back to the United States, that is. There is a carrier group and another squadron of missile frigates leaving station in Cuba. God only knows what else they've ordered in here." Falau was pressing home the gravity of the situation. "He's supposed to be in protective custody, but thanks to you He's sitting on His yacht outside territorial water. With His Godamned lawyer!"

"There was nothing we could do at Government House. We were surprised and surrounded by a superior force. Jesus Robeles could have been killed if we had stormed the place." General Ortiz interjected in his own defense. "Besides, we still have the Navy. The Americans can't get here that fast. Remember the Falklands?"

"One angle our people have thought of is that Jesus Robeles has no papers, no birth certificate, no passport, nothing except the competency decree from some crooked judge." the President reviewed what he had to work with. "Besides, He's illegitimate. We can claim that makes Him a ward of the state."

"He's too old for that. He's clearly reached the age of majority." Ortiz objected.

President Falau countered with "Yeah, but with no papers can He prove it?"

General Ortiz conjectured, "We could pull that to gain a day or two, but we can't go against the court. And, you can count on it, Santos would have a court order before the door was closed."

"Here are your orders, General. Have the Defense Ministry use the Navy to force the yacht back into the harbor on the pretext of getting them out of the combat zone. Board it and take the Man into protective custody. Do you think you can do that this time? Don't hurt Him, but use drugs if necessary. Eliminate His friend and the damned lawyer, eliminate all the witnesses then burn the ship." President Falau was showing his true colors. "If the Americans show up, I want a fight, at least a little one. If we lose a ship or two it will galvanize the country behind my policy of protective hospitality. I am sure the Americans will be only too happy to oblige, they're all trigger happy cowboys."

The President was pensive for a moment, then he added, "We're going to have a company of Paraguan Army regulars here by tomorrow. General Froesthusen told me personally that he wanted his troops to have direct combat with the Americans if it comes to that. Get some of those troops on the picket ships and start defending the harbors, all of them. Go light on Fortaleza, Recife and Salvador. We know they'll be headed right for Rio. I want our oldest ships on station out side Guanabara Bay. I'm pretty sure we can get reparations if this turns into a shoot out."

"I'm putting you in charge of this operation, Ortiz. If State Security can't handle this, just say so. I don't want a repeat of Government House. Is that understood?"

General Ortiz nodded. He was a man who understood little about the difference between brutality and decisiveness. He was a man who understood fully the fine line between the influence of nepotism and the final failure to tolerate incompetence.

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Chapter 40

40
ABOARD RESURRECTION, OFF GUANABARA BAY, BRAZIL

"Mr. Santos. I'm glad I've reached you. This is Tom Hanneman with the Haskill administration in Washington."

Yes, Mr. Hanneman. I've been expecting your call. I notice that you've reached us through our Belgian affiliate. You may be reassured to know that this is a secure line. What could possibly bring us to your attention?"

"Mr. Santos we have come to understand that your party is experiencing certain difficulties with the Brazilian government, the most pressing of which might be travel restrictions."

"Actually, Mr. Hanneman we have just now finished a wonderful dinner on board my Client's yacht, Resurrection. At least for the moment we seem to be able to come and go as we please."

"We have intelligence here suggesting that this situation might change abruptly." Hanneman was in his famous mode of talking much and saying little.

"We are quite aware of that intelligence, Mr. Hanneman. If the United States government were more familiar with the Southern Hemisphere states, you would know that security here, although generally brutal, is quite leaky. I could hardly represent my Client's interests in an intelligence vacuum." Victor Santos was easily a match for the political advisor.

"As you know, your Client's sudden appearance seems to have incited significant turmoil in the United States. It is our view that both He and the Haskill administration could benefit from a, say, vacation in the United States. Speaking for the President, I can offer a comprehensive package of support for His ministry along with secure and comfortable accommodations for His party. This can include guidance for His public appearances and sermons." Hanneman threw the bait.

"I am confident that I speak for my Client when I say that those are essentially the conditions which have been imposed on us here. Also, I don't think the Brazilian government is particularly inclined to grant Jesus a passport, much less an exit visa." Santos refused the bait.

"Mr. Santos, please be advised that we have taken several very low key and non-provocative steps which we hope will influence the Brazilian government to soften its position." Hanneman was still determined to say as little as possible.

"I shudder to think what those might be, Mr. Hanneman." Santos was utterly calm, but there was a growing firmness in his voice. "We have actually applied to a number of nations, not for visa status with conditions such as those you've just mentioned, but for full conferred citizenship. In fact, certain states have indicated an interest in simply volunteering full citizenship. The complications your government has introduced seem to make the United States less than an optimum choice. Still, I want to thank you for calling."

"Just a moment, please, Mr. Santos. Perhaps I can clarify our position. The United States is concerned about the safety of Jesus Robeles. Frankly, it is prepared to act rather boldly to assist His escape from Brazil." Being dragged along in a conversation was a new experience to Tom Hanneman.

"Now let me clarify my Client's position, Mr. Hanneman. Jesus Robeles is a Brazilian National. He would never freely solicit an armed incursion into His homeland on His behalf no matter what circumstances might prevail. He would be even more forcefully opposed to such an action if it carried with it even the remote potential for injury or, God forbid, loss of life." Mr. Santos was now, finally, delivering the message. "My Client presumes Himself, more than most men, to be a free citizen of this planet. As such He may travel to the United States or not, as He wishes. If He should choose to do so, I'm certain that the Haskill administration will greet Him with the dignity and respect which befits Him. Jesus is among us to bring goodwill. I personally will ensure that He is not soiled by the petty machinations of frightened men, whether Presidents or Popes."

"Once again, think you for calling. Perhaps we can meet someday. Good bye, Mr. Hanneman."

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Chapter 41

41
ABOARD RESURRECTION, BRAZILIAN COAST, SOUTH ATLANTIC

Mr. Santos appeared from below fully dressed, as always, in a three piece suit with a carnation in his lapel. Smiling broadly, he strode toward his Client. "Good morning! I thought I might take a cup of coffee with you two if you don't object."

"Please, come and join us! Jesus and I were just enjoying this beautiful morning with the ocean and the sea birds. It reminds us of the island a little. Of course, we never had bacon on the island!" Juan laughed, popping another strip into his mouth.

"I hate to be the one to bring you this news, but you should know that you can eat too much bacon. It'll make you fat, and then the girls won't like you." Santos -- along with Jesus and Juan -- began to laugh. "There is something else going on, though. Something we need to discuss."

Jesus looked at the lawyer. "Every time you get in that mood, life gets interesting."

Victor Santos straightened his tie and sat down comfortably at the table. The sea was calm for the South Atlantic, and the Resurrection was making headway only sufficient to keep her into the swells. The mainland coast was visible as a thin line on the horizon. "We may be having some company this morning. In fact, I'm surprised that we haven't seen them by now."

Juan leaned back from his breakfast, interested. "Who would come all the way our here to see us? Friends of yours?"

Santos scanned the horizon again. "Actually, not exactly friends. A few people are still a little miffed at my treatment of General Ortiz. You may have noticed that he doesn't seem to have much of a sense of humor."

Jesus looked up, "I sensed that in the man. I don't really dislike him, but if it's all the same with you, Mr. Santos, I would rather stay here on board than go with him."

In the most subtle degree possible, Santos once again looked out at the horizon. Finally, he turned back to look to the north again. Just at that moment the Captain appeared, hat in hand. "We have them on radar, sir. The ship is standing by for orders."

Santos asked the rather nervous officer, "How many? I can only see one."

"There are three of them, sir. They appear to be very old ships, probably US surplus destroyers or even smaller. Possibly destroyer escorts. The lead ship is closing at about fourteen knots, and the other two are shadowing to either side." The Captain replaced his hat as he completed his report.

"I'll accompany you to the bridge, Captain." Santos turned to face the two young men still at the table, "Jesus, Juan, you may join us up above if you wish. I must ask you to keep to yourselves, though. The bridge crew may get pretty busy."

Juan was already on his feet, and Jesus was close behind him. "What's going to happen?" they asked in excited unison. "It's General Ortiz again, isn't it? asked Jesus.

Victor Santos laughed reassuringly. "No, this time I'm sure they have sent someone else. We should be alright. We have a good crew and a good ship."

Once on the bridge, Santos motioned firmly where the boys were to stand, then turned his attention to the matter at hand. Speaking to the Captain, he suggested, "I think we are probably encountering quite a good deal of static in our radio reception just about now."

"Resurrection. This is the Brazilian Navy ship de Camo. Resurrection. Resurrection. Respond." This reception was completely clear.

The Captain spoke slowly into the microphone. "This is Resurrection, de Camo. You're breaking up. Please repeat." This message was almost completely obscured by static even as it was monitored on the bridge of the Resurrection.

"Resurrection. You are in a combat zone. You are instructed to make for Guanabara Bay at once. We will escort you." Again, the message was clear.

"de Camo. Are you in combat? Please repeat. de Camo. Are you in combat?" The Captain's voice was buried under static. Santos, looking on, nodded his head in approval

"Resurrection. Your must make for port now. The Americans are going to attack in these waters. Make for Guanabara Bay at once. We will escort you."

"de Camo. Roger Guanabara Bay. We were just there yesterday, but we didn't see any Americans. We will escort American ships per your orders." The engineered static was having the desired effect on the radio man aboard the de Camo. The exasperation in his voice was a clear sign that confusion had once again defeated force. The radio fell silent.

Santos spoke to the First Officer. "What is the range to the lead ship now?"

"All three of them are within fifteen minutes at current course and speed, sir." He left the radar and took up his binoculars. "They are making best speed. Those old tubs are making plenty of smoke to pull sixteen knots." He continued to speak as he watched the war ships come up on the stern of the Resurrection. "The Diaz, the de Camo and the Bolivar. Three little destroyers."

"Captain, match speed plus two knots for the time being. Let them follow us out to sea for a while. Make that radio completely unusable." Santos gave orders with the same total calm that always was his style.

Jesus, sensing that things had settled a little, asked, "Mr. Santos, are the Americans coming here to have a battle with those ships?"



"I cannot allow these young men to fight just because I am here. No, I would never allow that. There will be no battle. There will be no dying and wounding on My part. The battle is canceled." Jesus spoke with a very convincing tone. "No battle for the Diaz and the Bolivar and the de Camo. No battle for the Americans. No battle."

"What do you mean, Sir?" Santos asked Jesus. Santos was concerned at the unusual outburst. "President Falau has probably ordered those war ships to attack the Americans when they arrive even though the U. S. ships will have enough guns to blow them out of the water. He wants to make an incident. There isn't any way to stop that no matter how much we want to. That's the way navies work."

"Mr. Santos, I am not the least bit worried about what is happening to this ship. That is the case because I have every confidence in you and her crew. You, on the other hand, should not be the least bit worried about this war happening. In that matter, you can have every confidence in Me. There will be no war here on My account." Jesus spoke so directly that everyone on the bridge was transfixed by His words.

The Resurrection made her way slowly out to sea with the three destroyers trailing along at their best speed a half mile behind. Jesus, Juan and Mr. Santos were enjoying lunch under the canopy aft when the Captain appeared again.

"It's plenty of time for coming about now, Sir." he announced, as always holding his hat.

"Very well, Captain. Bring us about and head for Rio at top speed. Pass no closer than ten miles to any of those destroyers. They might become, shall we say, ambitious once they comprehend what we are up to. With our Passenger on board, I won't risk enticing some trigger happy young officer into taking a pot shot at us. Those five inch guns probably won't even fire, but let's not take any chances." Santos calmly picked up his cup and saucer to enjoy his after lunch coffee.

The Resurrection now made a lazy turn, wide and away from the war ships. She quickly came to speed as her twin turbines vibrated the deck ever so slightly. At forty knots her pursuers faded rapidly into the horizon. The ignored radio messages, still arriving and now ever more desperate, were littered with threats.

It was evening as the yacht slowed to enter Rio De Janiero's harbor. Santos had ordered the Captain to show all lights -- staterooms, lounge, everything. She looked a bit like a miniature cruise ship. The illumination was more a statement of defiance than a disguise. And the statement was not missed by elements of the Coastal Patrol. They had orders.

Victor Santos found Juan and Jesus in the main lounge reading old editions of National Geographic. "Gentlemen, it is time for us to leave Brazil. The situation here is deteriorating, and I feel some growing concern for Your safety. Please meet me at the helicopter deck at Your convenience. We should try to get airborne within a few minutes. There seem to be hostile forces making their way here as we speak. I think we can assume that this will be General Ortiz, or at least people acting under his orders."

"Can we bring these magazines, Mr. Santos?" Juan asked.

"Of course. We may have a long flight tonight. The magazines will be a good idea. Now, please. Let's board the chopper and get away from here." Santos seemed to be feeling a little urgent, but he remained imminently mannerly and calm on the exterior. The sound of the helicopter's engine drifted into the interior of the ship.

The three of them made their way aft to the waiting copter, but before they could board the entire aft deck was bathed in spot lights.

A booming voice traveled out to them over the dark ocean. A megaphone was making direct communication after the radio 'problems' which had plagued them all day.

The message was abundantly clear. "Do not attempt to launch the helicopter or we will open fire! Stop the engine! Secure the helicopter!"

The Captain appeared, this time a bit calmer than when the war ships had overtaken the yacht earlier. "They are forty foot coastal boats with a single thirty calibre Berlinnetti. The one that's doing all the talking is in close, about fifty yards and the other one is trying to sneak around the other side."

Juan was beginning to show a bit of uncharacteristic concern. "Will they really fire on us?"

Santos laughed again. "No, he might try to disable the helicopter, so we'll wait a few minutes before we depart." Turning back to the Captain, he added. "Let them come in a little closer, then you know what to do."

"Yes, sir." the Captain snapped. Turning, he made his way back to the bridge.

The Captain of the patrol boat off Resurrection's bow starboard was in constant radio communication with his superiors. "We have her bracketed, sir. I am proceeding with orders to board her." "Yes sir. Both of our deck guns are targeting the helicopter and nothing else." "No sir, the engine is still running, but no one is aboard except the pilot." Both boats were now approaching Resurrection. The closer of the two was no more than twenty yards off the bow.

The voice of the Captain suddenly boomed back to the patrol boats. "This is Resurrection. You are ordered to stop your engines and remain where you are. Do not attempt to board this vessel. Do not move to fire your deck guns. Remain where you are!"

The deck in front of the bridge was suddenly lit by bright floodlights. The deck plates seemed to explode to either side and a strange rounded object was rapidly elevated upward on a pedestal until it was higher even than the bridge. It seemed to rotate so quickly that it was not possible to really see any details of what it was.

The patrol boat Captain had seen the red dot of the targeting laser sweep across his vessel. He knew what it was, and he told his superior breathlessly. "It's a twenty millimeter Vulcan, sir! It's acquired both of us with targeting laser. I am complying with Resurrection's demands. We are standing down."

The voice from the radio responded angrily. "You are ordered to board that ship. You are ordered to take her Passenger into custody!"

"Sir, that electric Gatling gun can fire six thousand rounds a minute through this patrol boat. This boat is already ranged and targeted. I saw the laser. I will not sacrifice this crew! I am ordering both crews to abandon ship and row out of range of that thing." He thumbed the radio to mute and gave the order to abandon ship. Moments later the entire crews of both patrol boats bobbed safely out of harm's way, four tiny life boats in the center of Guanabara Bay. They could see the helicopter lift off the aft deck of the Resurrection in the distance.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Chapter 42

42
ON STATION, U.S. NAVY, CARIBBEAN BATTLE GROUP


The Captain walked unsteadily onto the bridge. His expensive worsted uniform shirt was stained from vomiting. Glaring at the First Officer, he asked, burping, "Why aren't we under way?"

Before the bridge officer could answer, the Captain added another question. "Why are all the Marines on deck?"

The Lt. Commander turned to him and excused himself, hurrying quickly to the head a few steps aft. Returning, he faced the Captain to report. "The Marines are on deck because they are so sea sick their quarters won't accommodate them. Everybody on board is green to the gills as of this morning. That includes me, and from the looks of it, you, too, Sir."

"The infirmary reports that this is nothing but sea sickness. No bug. No food poisoning. Sea sickness. We have hands on board who have sailed longer than I've been alive. They've never been sea sick, but they are today."

"The ship is dead in the water. Every system that makes this ship combat ready has electrical problems. Systems that aren't electrical, everything from steerage to our power plant, are either just jammed or acting weird. We have no computers, radar or communications. I have taken the liberty of raising the Des Moines and the Sacramento by signal light. They report similar conditions. Our communication is limited to line of sight."

"All ordinance on board is fouled. Everything from ammunition for the deck guns to the guided missiles is useless. Even if the deck guns and the launchers weren't jammed, we could fire so much as a flare."

The Captain raised his hand to his mouth, hesitating to see if he was going to be sick again. "Fleet must be trying to reach us. Can we receive messages?"

"No sir. We have had F-18's flying over us this morning, so they know where we are. They were not from the carrier group, wherever it is. They were mainland planes. I have a feeling that the Helms is not launching any aircraft."

"We are working on everything." the First Officer concluded his report before rushing to the head.

Monday, November 22, 2010

Chapter 43

43
RIO DE JANEIRO, BRAZIL

Jesus and Juan watched the city stream by below as the helicopter from the Resurrection headed east once more. The pilot and Mr. Santos were speaking in low tones in the cockpit. The pilot tapped the radar screen, pointing to a blip near the base of the circle. "Sir, I can only speculate as to what's back there, but its definitely following us. We're making about one hundred miles per hour and that craft is closing up with us fast. He must be running a hundred seventy or better. Probably a big military chopper of some sort."

Mr. Santos was speaking on his cell phone. "When will the plane be there? We should be landing in about fifteen minutes. I am expecting trouble, so get that jet refueled and keep it hot. Watch out for State Security forces. They've been in our hair all day." Looking over at the pilot, he asked, "They brought the big corporate Grumman in from Sao Paulo, but it's not going to do us much good if we can't it off the ground. Squeeze everything out of this chopper. We need three minutes lead time once we get on the ground."

Jesus leaned forward, "Is everything going according to plan, Mr. Santos?"

Santos looked back, laughing. "Well, let's say that everything is going almost according to plan. There is a big helicopter behind us loaded with troops and possibly even Your friend, General Ortiz. They are trying to beat us to Your executive airport in hopes of stopping our departure. But be of good cheer. It ain't over till the fat lady sings!"

Juan had to ask, "Won't it be difficult for her to sing with General Ortiz there."

Now both the pilot and Victor Santos burst into laughter. Collecting himself, Santos leaned back, "It just depends on how loud she sings!" Now everyone, including two utterly clueless passengers burst into laughter. The brighter mood seemed to even give the little helicopter a few more miles per hour.

Very shortly, a large helicopter from the Brazilian Air Force came along side. Santos gave the pilot instructions to land safely, no matter what. He could see the lights of the small airfield a few miles ahead. Soon he could see the dark outline of the Grumman G2, a fuel truck was just pulling away. The jet's pilot had the navigation lights running. As the helicopter approached, the runway lights went on and the powerful landing lights from the jet reached out to show the way.

The military chopper was already on the ground when the small craft from the Resurrection touched down. Troops were lining up around the jet. Troops with guns. Troops with dogs. A familiar figure, replete with swagger stick and jack boots, sauntered confidently toward them.

Santos, a little shaken at the turn of things, moved out in front of the others. "Good evening, General. I am surprised that you still have your job. You may recall that you have never been too careful about video cameras. I've taken the liberty of transmitting the image of this travesty of justice right from our security system to El Globo. They were interested, of course, after receiving the great footage of your bungling at Government House."

"You're under arrest, Santos." The General pulled his automatic. At that cue, all the troops around the jet also brought their rifles to bear. "I have orders to take Jesus Robeles into protective custody. None of your tricks is going to help you this time."

The pilot, holding back with Jesus and Juan quickly stepped in front of Jesus to block the line of fire. Ortiz shot him. Through the forehead. The General yelled over his shoulder. "Let the dogs go! Bring 'em down and hold 'em!" Six German Shepards, already straining at their leashes, lunged toward the remaining three figures. The troops moved forward.

Victor Santos raised his arms up to protect his face. Juan and Jesus knelt by the slain pilot.

Finally, Jesus rose to His feet again. The dogs had stopped their attack and now formed a disorganized ring of sorts around Santos and his charges. One licked the hand of Jesus lovingly.

Addressing General Ortiz, Jesus stepped up closer and looked at the astonished brute head to toe. "General, you were never meant to lead a life with such sorrow and anger. I think you've even been a bad influence on these dogs and perhaps those young men there, also.  I am pretty sure that you've killed the pilot. You have killed him even though he has never wronged you. I have an uncomfortable feeling that you even have the ambition to be a bad influence on Me. All of this makes for a sad, unhappy life, General. I think you deserve better."

General Ortiz had lowered his pistol. He was crying inconsolably. The troops behind him, initially skeptical, now had laid down their rifles, their eyes also filled with tears. Santos, still a bit nervous about the dogs, was actually speechless with astonishment.

The General blubbered through his sobbing, "I didn't need to kill him. I don't know why I'm like this."

Jesus turned abruptly and walked over to where Juan had remained with the pilot's body.

Juan looked up at Him, speaking in a whisper, "Can You do this, too?"

Jesus, with His normal optimism, replied in a whisper, "I don't know!" He swept His hand across the face of the man's lifeless body. The now dried blood remained matted in the pilot's hair, but the bullet's entry point was not to be seen. The man's eyes opened, and he cried out as if awakened from a hypnotist's parlor trick. Juan steadied him on his feet.

Now, all the troops were sobbing, some were on their knees. General Ortiz sobbed with them, but with a wild look on his face. He threw his pistol out across the apron into the darkness. The police dogs began to play with each other, frisking harmlessly around the group gathered at the jet.

"Now all this evil is undone, General." Jesus spoke matter of factly. "I am very happy about the way things have turned out. Aren't you? This is way we all should lead our lives. With joy in the abundant beauty that surrounds us. Couldn't we have a little smile, General Ortiz?"

The General abruptly stopped crying and smiled. "I feel wonderful and free!" The smile progressed to an uncertain laugh. Then it progressed to a continuous giggle. Then it became unending raucous laughter. The General's levity placed him in a mental hospital where his abundant good mood lasted for the rest of his lifetime.

The dogs wanted to go with Jesus on the jet, but were left in the care of the troops. The soldiers all offered candy bars and cigarettes to Jesus and Juan, sincerely wishing them a safe trip. Their laughter was wearing off a little when the jet's doors were finally sealed, although all of them to a man waved good bye as the craft taxied into the night.

Once airborne, Mr. Santos came aft to check on his passengers. He was still shaken up by the miracle of the helicopter pilot, not to mention the rest of the episode with the General and the State Security Police. And the dogs.

Juan spoke with candid innocence, "The lady didn't get a chance to sing, did she?"

Santos shook his head. "No, Juan. You're wrong. The fat lady definitely sang. Oh brother, did she ever!  Oh brother, did she ever sing!"

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Chapter 44

44
THE WHITE HOUSE

President Haskill had a rare firm look on his face when he stormed into the room. Admiral Peale. the President's National Security Advisor, had been waiting for twenty minutes.

He strode past the Admiral without inviting him to sit down. The President faced away, toward the far wall of the Oval Office. "Admiral, I just want it to stop. This country is not going down on my watch. This administration is not going to sit idly by while the total civil fabric of the greatest nation on earth falls apart before my very eyes. This is a National Security issue and I will goddamned well have a National Security solution to it." The President almost pounded on his desk, which would probably have been a first, but hesitated and turned to face the Admiral.

It was just then that Admiral Peale could look into the President's eyes. The Leader of the Free World was both irritated and terrified. President Haskill stared back deeply. His Presidential face had a melancholic look, the empty look of the lost.

"Admiral," he continued, now almost sobbing, "what can be so important about this man from Brazil? Don't these people have lives to live, families, jobs? How can ten million normally well composed and industrious citizens just go berserk? This is an industrialized country for Christ's sake!"

The President, obviously tired, put his palms to his forehead. "I guess I have lived in a world of conspiracies and dirty tricks from the other party for so long that I just can't consider something like this -- something straightforward, something that is simply what it is. If I cave in and deal, it won't make any difference. Hell, I don't even know what I'd have to do to cave in and deal."

Turning again to the Admiral, a noticeably calmer President issued his orders. "I want you and your helpers in here tomorrow morning at ten o'clock with a plan to eliminate all rioting within seven days. That man in Brazil is on the move as we speak. So far we don't know what He is planning. We don't know what He wants. We don't even know where He is! But I'm tired of Him raising hell in the United States when He's not even in the United States!"

"I will consider martial law as a last resort. I don't want to hear about any more Federal troops taking sides in the conflict like Baltimore, and I don't want even an inkling that this administration is on one side or the other. Whatever solution there is going to be it won't include the Haskill Administration taking a position on this thing!"

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Chapter 45

45
THE SKIES ABOVE BRAZIL AND VENEZUELA

The events at the airport seemed to have little impact on Jesus and Juan. They settled into the comfortable cabin of the intercontinental jet as if they had set up house keeping there. Victor Santos, however, was a different case. He sat with the pilot paying only a distracted attention to the controls. His mind returned to the gloomy room where Senor Robeles had given him the task. He had performed his duties. The trust fund was now so large that its assets occasionally slipped into sight. He had dutifully extricated his Client from the clutches of a surprisingly draconian government without resorting to firing a single shot. Now, in the luxury of an elite corporate jet he would deliver his Charge to a safe haven. Somewhere.

Santos was the kind of man who could juggle this many thoughts easily. His trial experience had sharpened him into a quick thinking -- and quick speaking -- man of the world. Coupled with the resources which had been entrusted to him, his talent presented a formidable opponent to anyone opposing his Client.

But Victor Santos was not congratulating himself. Instead he sat in the dark cockpit gazing out at the night sky filled with stars. What had happened at the airport brought a crushing realization down on him. He had been so consumed with his duties as counsel, that he had made the, to his mind, serious mistake of never fully realizing just Who his Client was. He had been told. He had known all these years, but it had never been much more than a kind of novelty. He had never opened his thoughts sufficiently to allow himself to realize Who was in the back of the plane.

The sight of the dead pilot standing on his feet again would not leave his memory. The strange "changing" of General Ortiz, and even the transformation of the dogs were all manifestations of power beyond his comprehension. On an intellectual level none of this would be too troublesome. In fact if he had read all of it in a newspaper story, he would have easily been able to both not refute it and, at the same time, not believe it.

But this was not a newspaper, or a television or a rumor. This was the Man seated a few feet away reading a ten year old edition of National Geographic. Victor Santos had the unavoidable realization that he could no longer continue to be what he had been. Jesus Robeles was not an incongruity, a slight of hand, a temporary phenomenon or a theoretical character. He was Someone who could bring people back from the dead.

Santos stared into the darkness for a long time. It would take him a little time to shift things around in his thoughts. He had considered Jesus to be a back woods bumpkin as He stumbled through one fiasco of modern living after another. Now it was time to forge an alloy of his Client, apparently the Son of God and a rapidly developing third component, Friend. No one who knew Jesus, and Juan, too, for that matter, could withstand the irresistible growth of a deep Friendship with them. Victor Santos was not alone when he looked at this feeling and concluded that he had never had friendship before in his life.

Attorney Santos shook himself back to the affairs at hand. The Grumman was going to be thirsty for more fuel by the time it arrived in Caracas. There was no possibility that the Brazilian government was not already strong arming Venezuela to hold them there. The jet's pilot had filed a flight plan, but no traffic control in Brazil would authorize departure. The flight path of the plane would have made it easy for Brazilian air traffic control to determine that Caracas was its destination.

Jesus had substantial holdings in the oil economy of the country, and unknowingly to its Owner, the trust had contributed heavily to some select local political campaigns. Victor Santos knew that one could never have too many friends. The lawyer sat with his cell phone, calling in favors.

Shortly, he turned to the pilot. "We will land and refuel at our refinery installation just west of Puerto Cabello. It will be best if we are on the ground for only a short time."

The pilot spoke back to him without turning away from the controls, "We really need a flight plan before we go much further. Do I have a final destination?"

Santos thought for a moment, then rose and made his way to the back where Jesus and Juan were now asleep. "Excuse me, Sir. Sir?"

Juan awoke first and smiled at the attorney. "We know how much trouble we're making for you Mr. Santos. I just wanted to tell you how much we appreciate everything."

Santos replied, "It's an honor to have my task, an honor."  Speaking the other sleeping Figure, he cautiously said, "Sir?"

"He'll wake up if you call Him by His name. He hears you say 'Sir' and He still doesn't think you mean Him. Try 'Jesus'." Juan smiled.

"Jesus. Jesus? Will You talk to me for a moment?" Santos asked softly.

"Yes, of course, Mr. Santos. I am delighted to talk to you at anytime. What's going on?" Jesus said, sitting up.

"We are landing in Caracas, Venezuela, shortly. We will refuel and then head on. I am asking You what our final destination should be. Where do You want to go?" Santos could not turn his eyes from the Man sitting before him.

"Juan and I want to meet girls. We're pretty sure we want to go to America. Can we fly all the way to America?"



The flight into Caracas was uneventful. The trust owned a major oil refinery at Puerto Cabello which had a runway suitable for the G2. Santos requested that Jesus and Juan remain on board with him while the plane was fueled.

Just as the fuel truck pulled away, it was replaced by two military trucks filled with troops. The trucks blocked the path to the runway. A man, clearly the officer in charge approached the plane. The pilot looked at Victor Santos for instructions.

The attorney sighed, then walked aft toward the exit door. Opening the latch allowed the steps to descend to the tarmac. He stepped forward as if to descend, but the military officer climbed up to meet him.

"Mr. Santos. Greetings from the government of Venezuela, and especially His Excellency, the Minister of Commerce. I'm glad we were able to catch you on the ground so I could give you these."

Santos opened the package. Within he found Brazilian and Venezuelan passports for both Jesus and Juan. Both were franked with exit stamps from both Brazil and Venezuela, although the photos were a little shaky. The officer waited for a moment, then said, "We have all heard what you have gone through in Rio. We have also heard what happened at your airport. The people and the government of Venezuela will provide you with every assistance possible to send you on your way. Your flight will receive departure clearance from Caracas by direct orders of the President. God speed!"

"Thank you, sir. And please carry our gratitude to your government. If you would be so kind as to file this flight plan for Dulles International in Washington, perhaps we won't be shot down by the Americans." Santos handed the written flight plan over to the officer, slipping the passports into his coat pocket. After Brazil, things were looking up.

Friday, November 19, 2010

Chapter 46

46
OVER THE CARIBBEAN

The jet roared through the night skies heading north. The pilot finally received clearance on his flight plan as far as the Virgin Islands. The Americans were stumbling over his request for clearance into Dulles.

Inside the luxurious plane, calm prevailed. Jesus and Juan, excited by the prospects of finally being free to walk about alternately peered out the oval windows and cat napped. Both were very much taken by the snacks carried on board, chips candy bars and sodas, than the meals which had been taken aboard at Puerto Cabello.

Persisting in their humble view of life, each packaged treat was examined, then shared, followed by a frank discussion of its wondrous taste. Government House had introduced them to canned sodas, but the fascination of carbonated colas was far from passing. Twice Santos had cautioned them about the effects of such food.

A passionate red dawn broke over the Bahamas, illuminating wispy clouds caught in the Caribbean current far below. Juan was suddenly impressed with just where he was. "We are really high above the ocean now, Jesus!"

"Mr. Santos said that we had a good plane and a good crew. He said the same thing about having a good ship and a good crew while we were on board the Resurrection. I think we can assume he will accomplish his aim with this flight just as he did with that ship. Can you see any people below? Can you see any girls?" Jesus asked, peering over His friend's shoulder.

In the cockpit, the pilot turned to Mr. Santos who was dozing in the seat next to him. "They have finally decided what to do with us. We have a new destination. I suppose they are a little nervous about a public arrival at Dulles. Now we are cleared to Andrews Air Force Base, and we are picking up an escort just outside the Southern Air Defense Intercept Zone."

"What do you think the escort means?" asked Santos.

"It means a couple of things. It means that they are acting as if they don't want us to get shot down. It also means that they want to keep an eye on us until we land at Andrews. We should see these birds in a few minutes. You might want to advise our passengers that everything is routine."

"Good idea. How far are we from Andrews?" Santos asked, straightening his tie.

"About two hours if we don't have to deviate from our course. I am expecting a very quiet reception at Andrews." the pilot answered without turning toward Santos.

The attorney made his way aft to where his passengers were now glued to the windows of the jet. "Sir, Juan, you should perhaps clean up a little and prepare for landing in about two hours. That will be eleven AM Washington time. Since You don't have any luggage, there shouldn't be much more to do. I might repeat my suggestion that You try to wear shoes. I will have a car waiting, but it may be cold when we land."

In unison the shoes question was laid to rest. "We can't walk in them." Jesus followed with His stock promise, "Perhaps if we can become more accustomed to them, we can wear shoes later."

"You will probably see one or two other aircraft trailing along our side in a few minutes. Those are actually the way the Americans greet travelers like us, so don't be concerned about them." Santos had not even finished speaking when two F18's took position a few hundred yards off either wing of the jet. Jesus and Juan waved to the pilots. They waved back.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Chapter 47

47
THE WHITE HOUSE

All the usual suspects were waiting in the Oval Office when Robert Haskill arrived. He clutched the note Tom Hanneman had written in the palm of his hand. It wouldn't do for any of these men to see his side of the briefing. Robert Haskill had the firm conviction that the most important part of being President was acting Presidential.

"Okay everybody. Tell me how your going to restore order in the country."

"Mr. President, as you know the situation has deteriorated since Tuesday, especially on the west coast." Admiral Peale began.

"Mr. President the damned problem here is that the Neo-Apostolics are trying to destroy any vestige of civilized religion in the country. That son-of-a-bitch is the Anti-Christ, and we have no business as a Christian nation sitting on the fence with this thing." blurted out General Forda, the Army Chief of Staff. "I've gone to church since I was a boy. How can we expect people to just sit there while the foundation of a great Christian nation gets wrecked?"

Admiral Peale started to try to calm things down, but Mr. Moyen, the Secretary of Defense, interjected "I don't know what you're planning you spiritual Neanderthal, but I'm one man who will not abandon the Savior who has returned to redeem the world! You can go to hell, and believe me, you're making good headway to getting there right now!"

The General boomed, "Don't you judge me you little piss ant coward! I fought to make this country what it is and..."

The President, in a historic departure from his normal demeanor, yelled "Stop it! Now I can see what's going on here! You brass heavy bastards are pulling a Baltimore on me. You take orders from me Godammit, and any man here who hesitates to follows those orders will be running a base post office in Fairbanks by tomorrow morning. Is that clear? Last count I saw there's a line of Generals waiting for those chairs, so just try me one time."

President Haskill had a certain air of panic in his voice. The prospects of the nation's highest military officers polarized like the rag tag mobs of Fundies and Neo-Apostolics in the streets was terrifying. Terrifying, that was, with respect to his chances for reelection. If large units of the military polarized, under polarized command or by themselves, there would be no possible way to put together a win against the Democrats.

"I can either trust you men to follow civilian command authority or replace you with Generals who will. If a single unit of the United States military enters partisan combat in the street of any city I swear, so help me God, I'll declare martial law and execute the whole lot of you. Is that clear?" Haskill emoted with more drama than substance.

"After this meeting I have no confidence in force readiness. I don't know if I can count on any force in any branch of the services. You will each initiate an immediate readiness report for me no later than tomorrow. You will each provide me with a RG-3 depth readiness report two weeks from today."

"I want a task force to stop the godamned riots and restore order to the country! Who can I trust to do that for me? Is anyone here confident of his troop readiness?"

General Veemer, USMC Chief of Staff stared directly into President Haskill's eyes. "You can trust my Marines to serve their Commander in Chief and their country, Mr. President. We always have and we always will."

Almost wincing, President Haskill shot back, "What are your personal feelings about the man in Brazil, General Veemer?"

"While I'm in this uniform, I don't have any personal feelings, Sir. And I can mobilize a Marine Division by tomorrow morning with a General on top and a private on the bottom who won't have any feelings either, Sir." After the bickering among the rest of the Generals, General Veemer emphasized the "Sir".

"Don't mobilize until we have a chance to plan this out. But you can start 'hardening' those troops by indoctrinating them on the importance of staying neutral." The President began to feel as if he was regaining control. "The rest of you, I want you to gradually begin to limit the amount of news about this reaching your men. Put your bases on low alert status."

General Veemer added quickly "Mr. President, I suggest that you order all forces to isolate the elements of all branches whose loyalties have been affected by this and transfer them overseas. The units in Europe and Asia have had less exposure to the conflict. Injecting them into stateside bases may help diffuse things a little."

"I'm afraid to think of how that would come out if all these officers had to work together to do it." moaned the President. "But it's a good idea. If I need troops to settle this thing, and I am still convinced I can avoid that, I want troops who will follow their orders not their religious ideals. That is it for this meeting. General Veemer, I want to see you in the morning. Meantime, I'm going to try to do something on my own."

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Chapter 48

48
ANDREWS AFB

The arrival at Andrews was uneventful. The Grumman landed, then taxied to a deserted apron. Jesus and Juan were excitedly alternating windows in hopes of seeing everything. A small group was gathered to meet them. As the jet's engines fell silent, the spectators approached the plane. The dull synchronization of their collective movement suggested that all of them had done this before.

Once the stairs were extended, the pilot stood smiling at the doorway, motioning for Juan and Jesus to descend. At the base of the stairs stood six Air Force police at attention in dress uniforms some replete with carbines and the last two with the flags of the United States and Brazil A little further distant stood a small delegation of all sorts of people. Mr. Santos followed the pair down, whispering to Jesus "This is how they greet You if they don't want you to feel slighted, but if they are afraid to have anything to do with You."

Jesus and Juan, recalling the manners they learned on Paraneho, immediately began to introduce themselves to the airmen who stood in rank. The remaining dignitaries found themselves with unexpected time to waste during this process since they stood further down the line. The young men from Brazil were both speaking Portuguese, interspersed with great friendly smiles. Everyone noticed with some alarm that all present were hearing Jesus in English. They heard the Portuguese, but they understood in English. Their faces reflected the fact that they found themselves ankle deep in a paradox of a supernatural nature.

Mr. Victor Santos thought to himself with a smug internal chuckle, "So what did you expect?"

As introductions proceeded, Jesus and Juan met respectively the Brazilian Ambassador to the United States who happened to be the nephew of Interior Minister Rimmer. The Ambassador smiled as he stood near the Brazilian flag. "President Falau sends his compliments. He regrets that the press of affairs in the government prevented him from meeting You while You were in Brazil."

General Ratcliff and his aide, who basically attended out of curiosity, stood stolidly next to the Brazilian. Amazingly, the General was able to exactly duplicate the condescending head to toe glare of Interior Minister Rimmer. Juan and Jesus looked at each other, then shrugged.

Aside from the General and the Ambassador there remained a mousy little man in a cheap suit named Stein who was the Assistant Under Secretary of State for South American Affairs, and a paranoiac right wing Senator from Montana without enough sense to avoid running the political risk of being photographed with Jesus. The Senator was apparently in the company of General Ratcliff, hot on the trail of subversive elements which were a threat to national security. This particular Senator was a man Tom Hanneman could occasionally send on missions.

Since the formal nature of the affair had deteriorated rapidly under the onslaught of Jesus' innocent ascendancy and the disarming boyishness of Juan, the whole group found itself abandoned to casual conversation. Mr. Stein gave Jesus and Juan their US passports -- it turned out, passports with exquisite drawings of their likenesses. The fake passports they had held in reserve actually had photographs of other men in them. Jesus and Juan had never known or understood the difference.

Victor Santos managed to move the Brazilian Ambassador off a little ways, out of earshot of the rest of the group. He told him a joke as a prelude to the political hardball which was his ultimate intention. Both men laughed good naturedly which had a relaxing effect on the remainder of the group.

The Ambassador pointed at the jet, "Nice airplane."

"Just something we had handy. We had to leave in a hurry, but it worked out fine." Santos bantered back. Producing a cassette from his pocket, he added, "This might interest President Falau. It's a copy of the recording we made while he was talking to Ortiz about raiding Government House. We didn't release it with the rest of the footage to El Globo as a personal favor to the President. Ask him to try to remember that."

The Ambassador blustered a little, but then said, "I think he will remember. There are a number of unfortunate affairs best left behind you in Brazil. President Falau is determined to make all of them right. He asked me to give you his personal assurances."

"Thank you, Ambassador. Please give our compliments to the President." Santos walked over the waiting limo. Speaking generally to all present, he said, "Thank you all for the warm welcome to the United States. We must be leaving now." Turning to Jesus and Juan, he held the car door open for them to enter.

Once clear of the Air Base, Victor Santos began his good byes. "I'm going to go back to work. I've made arrangements for You to stay in the penthouse at the Watergate. It's very nice -- not too fancy. Jesus, this has to be Your show, not mine. That's the way that Senor Robeles wanted things to turn out."

"I'll be close at hand, and I'll certainly keep an eye on You. You must remember that these people are just like Rimmer, Ortiz and Falau only sneakier and more civilized. I'll be there if You need me. Believe me, I'll be there."

"You will probably screw up a few times before You get the drift of everything in the United States, but You'll survive it. Don't worry about the bills, I take care of all of that. Don't sign anything. Tell 'em to send it to me. Do what You want to do."



"Mr. Santos, what do people think I am going to do?" asked Jesus.

"I think they are waiting for You to surprise them. You will know what to do, if anything, when the time comes. Take some time to come to understand the world a little better. Then You will know what to do, what to say. I'm sure of it." Santos answered.

The trio passed through bustling Washington for a time in silence. The young men seemed not to feel any trepidation about the challenges ahead for them. Santos saw them as modern Candides, certain that they were in the best of all possible worlds. Worlds which were, for them, filled with wonder and excitement.

The Secret Service was waiting at the curb in front of the great curving mass of the Watergate. Hesitating in the limo, Jesus spoke to His attorney, "Thank you very much for your help. Lawyers must be the most wonderful and trusted people in the world! Everyone must love and respect them."

Juan added, "Yes, I've read that President Haskill used to be a lawyer. That is probably why everyone likes him so much."

The two of them stepped out of the car, but Juan leaned his face into the open window for a last comment, "Say hello to Beatrice for us!"

The Secret Service hustled them into the hotel as Victor Santos sped off in the limo, shaking his head. He had a few matters to sort out in Brazil. But not many. The sight of the helicopter pilot was still strongly in his mind. Priorities had changed.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Chapter 49

49
THE WHITE HOUSE

"Hi Lucy. Thanks for coming on such short notice. Did you get the all clear from the Press Secretary?" President Haskill said as he removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves.

"Yes, sir. The Press Secretary has a fifteen minute window for you on all the network stations at the beginning of the six o'clock news tomorrow. He asked again if you didn't want him to send up a speech writer. He said he'd keep one in the White House tonight, in case you change your mind."

"No, Lucy. I don't think I'm going to change my mind. I haven't said much about the trouble that is going on in the country -- mainly because my press handlers thought it would be better if I stayed out of it. But I think that has been the problem. I've been a politician for a long time, and one thing I can do is deliver one helluva a speech. This thing needs to be between the people and me. I think we've had these damned speech writers manipulating this thing too long."

"Do you think you can persuade them to stop rioting? Do you think they'll listen to you and stop the trouble?" She asked with a worried look.

"I think it is worth a try. Who can have more influence than a politician? Who can speak with a stronger voice than the President? What the people are crying out for is leadership. They are almost like frightened children who just need a firm hand to lead them the right way. Who is going to do that besides the President of the United States?" Haskill slipped for a moment into a sentimental reflection on his own career in politics.

"But you were elected on thirty one per cent, President Haskill. Doesn't that make you wonder if you really have enough influence to get this done? Since the rioting started your approval rating is back down in the low thirties, too." Lucy could talk to the President this way. She had orders from the Press Secretary to talk him out of this speech any way she could.

"That's why I want to write this one myself. I'll refer to all the great Presidents of the past, Lincoln, Jefferson. . . Washington. Well, those three at least. By this time tomorrow my approvals will be up and the rioting will be down. You wait and see. This is going to help me a lot!"

"Yes, Mr. President. I guess we had better start writing, yes?" Lucy could feel her stomach turning as she prepared to take dictation.

Because Robert H. Haskill was a Republican President, the Seal of his office was draped with tasteful blue as it appeared on the television screen. The announcer drew a breath and introduced the President. It had been decided earlier that ruffles and flourishes would be a bit too much.

Robert Haskill was at his absolute best while he was in front of a camera. The dark suit, impeccably tailored, subdued yet pushy red power tie and a robin egg blue dress shirt were the tools of his trade. Borrowing from Presidents past would have been plagiarism to any other President, but to Robert Haskill it was simply tradition.

"My fellow Americans, I am speaking to you tonight in hopes of encouraging you all to help my administration restore order in the country. We must remember that this is the land of prosperity and freedom. We must be ever vigilant to avoid the quagmire of religious conflict and even war which engulfed the nations of old Europe. We must remember that those were the conditions which sent our Forefathers to America in the first place. The Founding Fathers of the United States sought a safe haven where they could practice their religion in peace, and they found that haven here.

The United States has always been a nation of religious tolerance. This idea was so important that it is written into our Constitution, the Constitution of Washington and Jefferson. They knew that religious peace was the foundation of economic prosperity, and we all know how important that is!

The American way is to not take this stuff too seriously. I mean, we are famous for that attitude around the entire globe! But here we are, we are having a religious war where both sides are the same religion!

Tonight, I am urging everyone to calm down, at least so we can have peace and order for the campaign. This is an important time when we will make decisions for the country, and how can we do that in an atmosphere of chaos and violence?

Tonight, I am asking you to set aside your religious differences long enough to let the political process work the way it is meant to. I know everyone is excited about the campaign which is starting, and I know everyone understands how important it is to me. So please join me in being good Americans. Get involved in the campaign! Remember that the American way holds politics to be the top priority. Peace, prosperity and politics. That's what this administration is all about!"

Monday, November 15, 2010

Chapter 50

50
THE WHITE HOUSE


[EYES ONLY Intercepted Comment Log]

Tom Hanneman: "He wrote that speech himself didn't he? It basically enraged both sides -- showed 'em that he's scared. The people hate politics. Why does he think they're gonna' dump rioting for religion which is fun for another presidential campaign full of dry shredded wheat?"

General Foorda, Chief of Staff for the Army: "Yeah, he pretty much staked out some ground alright, but it's not the high ground that a Christian white man would stake out. No, it's a little burial plot for himself -- right next to the hole you gotta go down to get to Hell!"

Pastor Lentz, Stratton Ministries: "These are the terrified screams of the damned, howling for a better chance to attack the body of Christ -- the real Christ -- THE DEAD ONE. Cozying up to these blasphemers would place our own salvation in jeopardy. In the words of a REAL Republican President, "read my lips." No peace."

Christians for Christ leadership: "Things weren't too calm in Jerusalem either. For a while it looked like the Pharisees would carry the day, but they mostly just got San Diego. Who won was the people who followed Jesus Christ, then, now and forever. Just remember who won in the end. We did."

Jerry Oxford, Democrat Candidate for President: "I'd like to thank Bob Haskill for lowering his approval rating by fourteen points. It would now take a mass mailing to find anyone left in the country who likes him."

Jesus Robeles to Juan Gemarro: "I can't really understand what any of them are doing, but then, this 
is America."