Col. Kola Johnson juddered where he sat. He had taken a brief nap and had relived the event at the mercy of a reverend minister in the heart of Kaura. It was as though he was in it, real-time, sweating from the intensity of a war that saw all but him pass away.
Every doctor he met dismissed what he had seen, the mysteries and the demons that fought his forces to a standstill. They described It as symptoms of post traumatic stress disorder and placed him on intense medications. However, whether he be sleeping or he be awake, the happenings of then reincarnated in the now, purging him of peace and tranquillity. He knew he had a message to deliver. That he was reminded of every instance.
However nothing changed. It seemed the medications joined with the stress and multiplied the pain in destructive powers, and defied his salient resolve, and broke his fortitude and courage. This affected his performance as head of security detail to the senior pastor and General Overseer of the House on the Rock Church.
He tried really hard to put everything behind him, he earnestly yearned for peace of mind, but this still didn't come. He studied the bible and prayed every day. He sought the face of God in fasting and he prayed. He longed after the will of God as reflected in the things he was told and the things he discovered, from the things he read from the sacred books of the bible and the things that was preached from the altar. Still, demonic authority hindered the rest of his heart in the peace of his soul. He broke down and cried.
After some moments, he shrugged and started out, hastily. He had been notified that Pastor Paul was done with the outreach, and was heading for the car. He hurriedly rinsed and cleaned his face with a face towel, and swiftly joining the procession, he tapped the aide that stood behind Pastor Paul. He took over position.
"Angel on the move," he spoke into the wire, "Ï repeat, angel on the move."
Angel is the code name for Pastor Paul.
The car had started, an aide opened the door as Pastor Paul turned around to wave one more time to the cheer of a grateful crowd.
The time read 6:00pm local time and the church had just done its last outreach in Ikorodu, a suburb of Lagos. Kola closed the door after Pastor Paul, walked to sit in the passenger sit beside the driver. spoke in the radio, signalling all security aide in the convoy to move into the car and gave instructions for the car to move. All retuned in the positive. The convoy moved.
"You have a message for the church of the south," he heard clearly a voice speak to him.
Things animated and spoke, and the words they said were warnings. He had a message of the coming of wrath and death but everyone from doctor to pastor dismissed this as mere symptoms of a disorder. Pastor Paul knew better, but choosing rather to refrain from speech, he let others counsel while he gave passages of scripture and encouraged for more prayers.
Doctors encouraged him to use his medications and stay back to rest, but for him the pain was persistent and staying back would expose him to mental torture, depression and a torment of his soul. He chose rather to be in the midst of people. That move still wouldn't down the pain.
There was going to be an incident, he heard warned to his hearing. He didn't know what it would be, but he knew it was imminent. He communicated with security protection, instructing on what formation to take or what moves were necessary. He put the convoy on high alert.
He held his gun on his side and studied unfolding events.
At this the flash backs increased. He felt the people that stood by the street were working earnestly after him. He sat in the front passenger seat, beside the driver. He could see Pastor Paul through the front mirror and didn't understand how he had so much idea about an impending disaster but didn't seem scared.
Looking out the window he felt the pressure from random individuals, looking intently at the convoy, laughing and stalking. This reminded him of the mob that engaged his unit in his previous mission in the North East.
"This is the beginning of the end," a voice started to his hearing.
He shrugged, again, scanning every inch of space, checking on the protectee and also analyzing the men that stood on adjacent streets. He wasn't comfortable with the fact that this environment was particularly hostile, and that this crowd was slowly forming into the same mob that struck him by means of mystical powers. The scene of the North East remained ever present.
The voice laughed. He juddered. The crowd was closing in, many running after the convoy, chanting songs of war. raising burn fire and throwing torches at the convoy.
"Code red," Kola started at the radio, "I repeat, code red."
He tried to update Pastor Paul on the turn of events, but after turning around, and seeing him, eyes closed, muttering in unknown tongues, he signalled the driver to put the car on lockdown. At this nothing from the outside should break through.
As he waited, watching the pilot shut down the system, he heard a sigh from behind, and turning around to Pastor Paul, he listened to him speak for the first time since the convoy moved.
"There is a conspiracy against the church, and this conspiracy seeks to eat the church from the inside. We as a church must pray else we will be destroyed in the worst happening for a movement since the commencement of time. But as the battle hymn of the republic says, His truth is matching on, his day is matching on, our God is matching on, his church is matching on. We will survive."
That was it. He smiled. He tapped his lap, rested his head backwards, adjusted his bible that was now resting on his left lap and closed his eyes, returning to prayer, where he had been since he stepped into the car.
Kola was having none of that this time, instead, he watched the driver follow up on security protocols, alert other drivers on what move to make, continued contact to security agents for reinforcement as he started down a steep drive before arriving a bridge.
The convoy slowed down.
Kola listened to the wire and understood that the convoy had been blocked by a mob that materialized from empty air. The twenty two car convoy was stuck, and now strange looking demons banged the window, chanting, roaring, screeching, wrestling. This was the physical, happening in full glare of the evening light.
Aides and police officers jumped off their truck racing to form a ring of protection. Kola on noticing this move screamed orders across wire and radio connection. However, this came really late as soldiers pouring from hilux and truck backs met their death in swift instances, almost as soon as they touched boots to the earth.
Other agents pulled back swiftly, hiding behind closed doors or lowered leather cover that did little to shield armed elite officer from the harm of demon rage. Every agent that carried Pastor Paul trembled.
In the belly of the beast, Kola felt a mighty wind blow past him, and flooding in the torrent of the wind he heard a voice call his name.
"Who are you?!" Kola shouted, with pistol drawn and both palms clasped against his ears.
The voice laughed. Kola struggled to calm himself, and for a moment even the driver didn't know how to respond. He just watched in shock. He hadn't felt a mighty wind or heard the voice of instruction pour. He just stayed, shocked, watching.
A loud blow slammed on the mirror beside Kola. The mob army had advanced to now surround every vehicle that stood in the convoy, killing and destroying they that hid in the back of the truck.
He threatened to shoot but that wouldn't work. The glasses were bullet resistant, inside out and the forces that craved from outside energised from every move he made. This beat him. He rested back, waiting on control station to respond or back up to arrive. He stayed helpless, watching events unfold.
He juddered, concentrating his sight as he locked gaze on someone he had seen before. He lowered his SIG Sauer P229 side arm. He sought the continence of Pastor Paul, and noticed that he still spoke in unknown tongues, praying. He turned around to the sight he had just matched. But looking at where it was, he saw nothing. He saw no one. He saw not the man that stood there before covered in a pool of blood and cuts from sword and the drill of nails.
"Over here," the voice whispered, and looking to the other side he saw him.
This is him, he thought, beckoning on the driver to cower for proper view.
"What you have is dying, what you profess is fading. I am the new Lord and master over the earth. In the appointed time, even your life will fade away."
He vanished.
Kola juddered, tossing around in search for who spoke, and again, looking on at where the one stood, he saw nothing.
"Your end is come. The time is come for the horns and the star to prevail in all the earth, and the west will be destroyed with her gathering and her church and the gates of hell will rise above the earth."
"Never," Pastor Paul interrupted with a whisper, and looking on at Kola he reiterated, "never."
He defiantly lapsed into unknown tongues, replying the one that had spoken with words that werent translatable. The demons that surrounded and fought against the armoured vehicle simmered.
"I say also unto thee," Pastor Paul continued, as though in a trance.
"That thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it." He stopped and slowly raised his right hands into the heavens.
"The gates of hell can't prevail today or ever."
At this another mighty wind started throughout where they were. It descended on the road and rented in pieces the demons that surrounded the convoy. The demons that surrounded and chanted and cursed and destroyed by means of the ancient dynasty of the star and horns melted into oblivion, wiping away with the winds and water that fell to all the earth.
It was now 7:00 PM, the evening had come and they had just met Mile 12. The news reported a flood and a shootout between officers attached to Pastor Paul's convoy and armed robbers.
"This isn't the end. The true test comes," Paul started at Kola with a smile.
"How do you say this with calm and not tremble even after you have seen the wrath of hell and the powers of destruction wield through the horns and the star?"
Paul smiled once more, shrugging in dismissal what Kola said. He looked on at the scripture before him, let out another tirade of smile before saying, "for the which cause I also suffer these things: nevertheless I am not ashamed: for I know whom I have believed, and I am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day."
Kola still looked puzzled.
Paul read that expression and not wanting to lose him said, "you are a soldier," he paused, welcoming a response in the affirmation.
"You believe in the rifle, and the strength of arms." Kola affirmed.
"I am a man of God, and I believe in the power of the almighty to win wars and destroy evil. You hold your gun and I hold my faith. Together we can win this."
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