His phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked to see who was calling: Counter-Terrorism Investigation Group. He indicated that he needed to take this call and left the meeting room.

“Jack, speaking.”

“Rob here from Counter-Terrorism Investigation Group. Your team sent an email to Gavin Sargent recently. Just wanted to let you know he’s on leave at the moment, so it was forwarded on to me.”

Email? What email?

The caller must have sensed his thoughts. “It was to do with the following up on someone acting suspiciously regarding the use of drones and the payload they could carry.”

“Yes, I remember. I thought it was something your group might want to know about.”

“It is. As it happens, we had a covert operation underway in Noosa with another agency, but it was thrown out of whack by the earthquake. We had some spare time and resources and drone attacks are becoming a concern for us, so we thought we’d look into your suspicious person.”

Jack had no idea where this was heading.

“We use drones for surveillance activities, and we have a video you may be interested in. I’ll email it to you, and the address where the footage was taken. You’re in for a little surprise.”

“Okay, Rob. I look forward to it. Not sure if I should thank you or not. I don’t like surprises.”

“You will.”

His phone beeped. Jack opened up his email account, saw the email, forwarded it to Matt, and walked back into the meeting room. Matt’s phone beeped.

“Matt, could you open that email and display the video on the big screen for us. Apparently, we’re in for a surprise.”

A sun-bleached image appeared on the screen. It was a bit jerky, then it settled. Ocean and sand appeared, then some shrubbery, then the image hovered over a sandy path with boundaries indicated by a black aluminium fence. There was slight movement at a gate and more hovering. The top of a person’s head came into view. The person looked up.

Wiley.

Sheila was a great artist.

Jack presented the team with their two options: they could go after Wiley now, or dig deeper into the society he belonged to. They decided to dig deeper. They didn’t anticipate Wiley would go anywhere and agreed there wasn’t an imminent danger to human life, although he must know they were looking for him. Jack tasked Matt with requesting regional support to monitor Wiley’s activity.  

The meeting ended, and Jack asked Cath to have a coffee with him.

Two white ibis—bin chickens—wandered around the outdoor café where they were seated. Jack ran a finger around the top of his coffee mug as he watched one of the ibis picking up food scraps while the other scanned the ground for that extra special treat. They were the city cleaners. He was sure they’d be competing with robots in the future.

“Any more news on your dad, Cath?”

“He’s happy to be away from work—not because of the work but because of some of the people. They’re quite aggressive towards him and his beliefs. They can’t understand why an apparently intelligent person could possibly believe in God.”

“You Christians do seem to cop a bit of a beating.”

“Yes. I think Mr Thomas Wiley and his secret club is the peak of it. They want to rid the earth of us. So many pour scorn on religious belief and want it eradicated.”

“Why do you think that? It’s not just your dad’s work environment. There’s a general intolerance and aggression out there toward Christians.” Jack looked at the banana bread that had just been placed on the table. His friendly ibis also had moved in closer.

“I suppose we bring it on ourselves. We’re considered judgmental and hypocritical. Even our attempts at moral integrity fire up people. You know, don’t swear, don’t drink, don’t smoke. In some cases, I shake my head with what some Christians say or do. But Jesus upset a lot of people in his day by telling them what they didn’t want to hear. If that thing in the sky is all about Jesus coming back, then the world is in for a rude shock, a rude awakening.”

He put a small piece of banana bread on a fork, although he wasn’t sure if he was hungry after the donuts. “I don’t know, Cath. I’m weary from it all. Don’t know what to think anymore.”

Cath used a fork to break off a chunk of banana bread. “It’s complex, Jack, and it’s hard to see faith through eyes that aren’t used to looking at the spiritual.” She chewed and contemplated. “It’s a well-thought-out strategy from the enemy. People scoff when Christianity is mentioned, because that’s what we’ve been taught.”

“Taught?”

“Education starts at an early age. We start with a clean slate, and we’re fed information from parents, friends, school, society, culture. That becomes our belief system. We’re products of our environment. What happens if what we’ve been taught is false? What happens, for example, if science decides evolution is false and there is a creator? Evolution is a foundation belief for many people. But is it a foundation built on rock or sand?”

“Who is the enemy, Cath? … man?”

“Yes, but it’s who controls man is the problem. The prince of this world.” Cath’s face tightened up. “It’s best to leave it for now, because it gets harder to explain.”

“Why? Because I’m not spiritually discerning?” Jack hoped Cath sensed his question came from a seeking heart, not from aggression.

“No, Jack. I believe you’re searching. And yes, it is a spiritual thing—it won’t matter what I say. Something needs to happen to your heart for you to understand what I’m talking about.”

“But what happens if what you believe is false, if you’ve been fed false knowledge?”

“That’s it, Jack. It’s all about truth. Jesus told us, ‘I am the way, the truth and the life.’ I believe that. I believe what is written in the Bible. Jesus told me to come to him when I was weary and burdened and he would give me rest. I did, and he gave me rest.”

Jack was silent, torn between two worlds. He was touched spiritually once. What happened? Where did it go?

An ibis wandered under the table with no cares in the world.

“Adventus.” Cath broke another piece of banana bread, and a piece fell to the ground. “Adventus will sort it all out.”

The ibis scooped up the scraps with its long beak. Jack looked up past the tall palm trees. Still overcast. Adventus was hiding between the clouds and the sunlight. He had a sip of his coffee.

“Thomas Wiley obviously strongly believes in something because he wants to kill those who are searching for something. Does that make sense?”

“Yep. I wonder how long he’s been at it for.” The caffeine was settling him down.

“That’s the concern. I think we’ll find something happened to him in his deep past. Wouldn’t be surprised if it was a church or Christian thing.”

“Yep, but what about the others, the secret society? It gets back to the intolerance and aggression. They must hate Christians.” Jack continued to watch the ibis, scouting around without a care in the world. “Regardless, we’re dealing with a person who is killing people and maybe even a group that are killing people.” He shook his head.  

“Well, we best get back and get it sorted out.”

“We don’t have the proof yet.”

He bit his lips. She was right. They didn’t have proof that he’d killed anyone.

Yet.

27 - A Noosa holiday

The traffic to the Sunshine Coast was sparse. People were away due to the recent earthquake. The Great Leader hinted to Sarge that a holiday to Noosa could be a good idea. He’d already taken a few days off work, so it was no big deal to agree.

Bruce liked his music and Sarge didn’t mind his taste—most of it—so they listened to a good mixture of tunes on their trip. There were pockets of discussion but Sarge barely contributed. Bruce liked the history that went with the music. He spoke in length about The War of the Worlds when it was first broadcast on radio, listeners panicked because they didn’t realise it was fiction.