“How long until it hits?”
“I don’t know. Soon. What are you getting at?”
“I need your best guess—now.”
“Well… I don’t know…. I suspect it will be toward the end of the U.N. deadline, perhaps just after. The prophecy is not precise about the timing.”
“Will all of Russia be destroyed? I mean, will everyone be killed?”
“I don’t know, but I do not think so.”
“Based on what?”
“Well, some of the verses toward the end of Ezekiel 38 and much of chapter 39 suggest a great spiritual awakening. But Russians, Iranians, Germans, and others cannot decide to follow Christ if they are all dead. So no, I do not think the judgments are complete annihilations of these countries.”
“Can you give me anything more precise than that?”
“Why? What are you looking for?”
“Is there any evidence that suggests there are survivors after the judgment?”
“Well, there is one thing.”
“What?”
“It is not conclusive. Some scholars disagree.”
“About what?”
“Something in the Masoretic text.”
“That’s the Hebrew Old Testament, right?” asked Bennett, remembering Mordechai’s explanation from their previous conversation. “Most Jewish Bibles are based on it.”
“Right. The King James Version is based upon it as well. And when you read Ezekiel 39:2 in that version, you will find that the Lord God says to Gog, ‘I will turn thee back, and leave but the sixth part of thee, and will cause thee to come up from the north parts, and will bring thee upon the mountains of Israel.’ God then goes on to vow to destroy ‘all thy bands.’ Now, some scholars believe this indicates that five-sixths of Gog’s forces and his coalition’s forces will be destroyed but that one-sixth will remain behind and survive.”
Bennett needed clarification. “You’re saying that God vows to wipe out roughly eighty-five percent of the military and security forces and leaves the other fifteen percent relatively untouched?”
“It seems that way,” said Mordechai, “but there is something else, too.”
“What?”
“Ezekiel 39:6 says God is going to send ‘a fire on Magog, and among them that dwell carelessly in the isles.’ So it seems as if the firestorm is, in fact, going to hit Russia and perhaps her allies. That could mean extensive collateral damage. Many civilians, particularly those living near government or military bases in those countries, may very well be at risk, though it is not entirely clear.”
Bennett finally exhaled. It was clear enough for him.
“Jonathan, please, you must tell me what is going on.”
So Bennett did, one piece at a time.
He told Mordechai about his blowout with MacPherson, about his resignation. And then he told his mentor that it was time for him to get off the sidelines and into the game.
“Meaning what, Jonathan?”
“Meaning if God is about to move, I don’t plan to sit still. I need your help, Dr. Mordechai.”
“Of course, what do you need?”
“Two fake passports — different names, different aliases. Access to large amounts of Russian currency. And contacts in Eastern Europe who can smuggle me into Russia.”
“Are you crazy?” said Mordechai.
Bennett knew the old man wasn’t often stunned, but he sounded so now.
“You are planning to assassinate Gogolov and Jibril? That is lunacy, Jonathan.”
“No, no, that’s not it.”
“Then what? You have never been trained in covert operations. You would never get close to them. Not now. And if the Russians capture you, they will kill you this time. Jonathan, you do not know what you are up against.”
“Actually, I do. Look, you’re convinced this prophecy is real, right?”
“Right, but—”
“OK,” Bennett said. “And if you’re right, that means there’s nothing I can do to persuade the president to stand by Israel, because the prophecy makes it clear no one is going to stand by Israel. The only thing I can do now is try to rescue Erin.”
“Jonathan, I am grateful you agree with me, but your plan is suicide.”
“Maybe, but what am I supposed to do? If she’s not already dead, they’re going to kill her soon. And even if she lives a few weeks longer, she’s most likely being held in a military prison or a military hospital somewhere in or near Moscow. Which means she’s at risk of being consumed by the very firestorm you say is coming. I can’t just sit back and do nothing. I’m going to get her back, Dr. Mordechai. Or I’ll die trying.”
The other end of the line was silent for what felt like several minutes. Then he finally heard Mordechai say, “OK, I will help you. Meet me in France in three days. You know where?”
“Yes,” said Bennett. “And three days is fine. There’s something I need to do before then.”
48
The doorbell rang.
Ruth Bennett stopped folding laundry and glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. It was only 3:30 in the afternoon. She wasn’t expecting anyone. She didn’t even want to see anyone. But there it was again.
She got up, smoothed down her dress, checked her hair, and carefully peeked out from behind the living-room curtains to see who it was.
Her heart almost stopped. She raced to the door and yanked it open.
“Jon? What are you doing here?”
“Good to see you, too,” he said. “Can I come in?”
The moment was surreal. Jon had no suitcases or DSS agents. He was wearing blue jeans and a polo shirt rather than one of his trademark Zegna suits.
“Jon, of course, come in,” she said, unlocking the screen door and giving him a hug. “I just can’t believe it’s you. Ever heard of a phone?”
Jon smiled, a bit sheepishly. “I wanted to surprise you.”
“Mission accomplished. You want something to drink?”
“I’d love some coffee.”
They went into the kitchen, where Ruth put on a pot of water and got out two White House mugs he’d sent her for Christmas.
“Actually, got something besides those?” Jon asked.
“Like what?”
“Anything; it doesn’t matter.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“How much time do you have?” he asked.
“How much time do you need?”
And for the next hour, he told her the entire story, from Mordechai’s answer to her question, to the Ezekiel prophecy, to his sudden resignation from the president’s staff. When he was finished, he gave her his copy of “The Ezekiel Option” and asked if she had any questions.
“I wouldn’t know where to begin, Jon,” she said, glancing through the pages of Mordechai’s brief. “You really believe all this?”
“I think I do,” he said. “But that’s not even why I’m here.”
“It’s not?”
Jon shifted in his chair. “This is kind of hard to say, but maybe you could just let me get through it first and then we could talk about it. Is that okay?”
Ruth nodded. Where was he going with this? There was a long, awkward pause. She wasn’t used to seeing her son at a loss for words. But as uncomfortable as he looked, she decided to keep quiet.
“I know I’ve disappointed you over the years,” he said. “I know after Dad died I promised to come down more often, to call, to keep in touch — to be there for you… and I never really was. The truth is, I haven’t been a very good son. I’ve been stingy with my time, with my love. I’m not married. I haven’t given you any grandchildren. I just… I don’t know… I don’t want to sit here and give you a bunch of excuses. I just want to say I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.