Seven Years of Insanity—The Beginning

By Glena M. Jessee-King and Mark Anthony King

Terrorist plots lead to greater complications in Seven Years of Insanitythe Beginning

After traumatic loss, a secular counselor and spiritually-cold Christian returns to active military duty to investigate a series of terrorist bombings in Florida, leading him to uncover events that may lead to the end times in Mark A. King and Glena Jessee-Kings new thriller, Seven Years of Insanitythe Beginning (published by WestBow Press, a division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan).

When these terrorist bombings decimate three houses of worship in Palm Beach, Florida, Alexander leaves his civilian career and returns to the military to lead a rescue mission. Together with his rescue dogs, Martin and Luther, Alexander saves a Jewish youth and befriends the youths father, whoalong with a mysterious chaplainhelps prepare Alexander for upcoming challenges.

Recurring dreams regarding the Biblical prophet, Daniel, and an insane king trouble Alexander.

During his journey Alexander discovers that a murderous, rogue order of Jesuits, led by the wicked and illusive Agent Smith, is bent on instilling its own radical religious and political beliefs in the United States. Alexanders arduous task is to track down and stop Agent Smith and the other American and foreign Jesuit members, before it is too late.

An apocalyptic thriller, Seven Years of Insanitythe Beginning incorporates scriptural verses as well as elements from Judeo-Christian history. Through their novel, the authors hope to show readers that redemptionregardless of circumstancescan be found through trust in God.

Seven Years of Insanitythe Beginning

By Mark A. King & Glena Jessee-King

Hardcover | 6 x 9 in | 246 pages | ISBN 9781490825175

Softcover | 6 x 9 in | 246 pages | ISBN 9781490825168

E-Book | 246 pages | ISBN 9781490825151

Available through your local book seller preferred on-line retailer

More information is available at www.scmrebuildinglives.org and [e-mail]

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Apr 14, 2015
• ISBN: 9781490825151

Glena M. Jessee-King

Bishop Mark A. King—former senior pastor and counselor—is a singer and musician and the founder and president of Second Chance Ministries. Glena Jessee-King is a minister, artist, poet and former playwright. She earned a “Golden Poet Laureate” for her 1987 poem, “Whispering Wind.” Both are available for special ministry services, forums (Mark) and book signings. 

Book preview

Copyright © 2015 Mark Anthony King and Glena M. Jessee-King.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Cover Design and all Illustrations by Glena Jessee-King

(Acrylic/Oil/Pastel/Pencil) Interior Illustration (Pencil)

Cover (Dogs) by and Courtesy of Photographer Rebecca Fran Wood

Scripture taken from the Holy Bible, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica, Inc. All rights reserved worldwide. Used by permission. NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION® and NIV® are registered trademarks of Biblica, Inc. Use of either trademark for the offering of goods or services requires the prior written consent of Biblica US, Inc.

WestBow Press

A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.westbowpress.com

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

ISBN: 978-1-4908-2516-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4908-2517-5 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4908-2515-1 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014902031

WestBow Press rev. date: 4/13/2015

CONTENTS

Acknowledgments

Prologue

Chapter 1 Terrorist Bombing

Chapter 2 A Lack Of Reason

Chapter 3 Awaken Out Of Your Sleep

Chapter 4 The World’s First Psychiatrist

Chapter 5 Reflection

Chapter 6 Optimism 101

Chapter 7 A Nurse’s Tale

Chapter 8 The President Of The United States

Chapter 9 The Fall Of Radical Islam

Chapter 10 All Roads Lead To Rome

Chapter 11 America’s Delusion

Chapter 12 One Crazy King

Chapter 13 The True Enemy

Chapter 14 Death To Freedom

Chapter 15 An Appointed Time

Chapter 16 The Real Culprits

Chapter 17 Esau’s Folly

Chapter 18 Aftermath

Chapter 19 New York

Chapter 20 A Patriotic Gene

Chapter 21 Moscow, Russia: One Month Before West Palm Beach Hospital Bombing

Chapter 22 Present Day: Washington D.c.

Chapter 23 Fare You Well, Father Francis

Chapter 24 The Agent, Alexander And The Enigma

Chapter 25 Changes In The Atmosphere

Chapter 26 Leaving For Israel

Chapter 27 News Of The Asteroids And Arriving At Tel-Aviv

Chapter 28 Toxic

Chapter 29 The Next Pope

Chapter 30 Asteroids Destroyed, Russia Destroyed

Chapter 31 Nebuchadnezzar’s Pride And The Dilemma Of The Pope

Epilogue

Author Mark King’s Note

Co-Author Glena Jessee-King’s Note

About The Authors

To Melinda—the love of my life

And

To Ashley, Emily, Kimberlee, and Gregory—the joy of my life

To Ronald K. King—my beloved husband

And

To Gregory and Mark—my beloved sons and their families;

And

To my beloved siblings and their families

A great read on a very timely subject and valuable for many people representing a powerful paradigm shift … Mark King [and Glena] beautifully illustrates what could soon be a reality.

— Scott Irwin CPT, USAR, MEDCOM

… Privilege previewing what I believe will be a best seller. But more importantly, a book that may open the eyes of the church to the times we are facing … [and a] much needed revelation.

— Ron Hill, Senior Pastor, Cliffview Church of God

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I t took several years to complete a novel of this complexity, as during that time, I was working full time. Although I cannot name every person who assisted me in some manner, the input of the following helped make this work possible.

Among those I thank include: Dr. Smith who has inspired me to think ‘outside the box’; a dear Catholic friend, who has provided me with valuable history of the Catholic Church; Sandy Sadler and Christina Webb, both who edited and gave valuable grammatical insight and support—the former, during the original work and the latter, during the final revision; and my mother for her extensive work, including editing, formatting, and adding scenes throughout the novel. Being a play-wright and creative writer, she wove my work more skillfully to develop the novel’s narrative, characters, and story plots that further built depth and conflict to the work.

Also, I appreciate my dad, Ronald King; my brother, Gregory King, and his family; my wife, Melinda, and our four children; and others, many of whom have given valuable suggestions and encouragement regarding my endeavors. Most importantly, I thank the Lord Jesus Christ my Savior—without whom I cannot succeed, because He enables and empowers to create—who has forgiven us all by giving His life for all humanity.

PROLOGUE

W ould the new challenges that Alexander was about to face result in restoration or in deeper despair? He was at a crossroads: Would this prove a blessing for others, but a curse for him?

Alexander’s personal isolation and seclusion was about to come to an end. As a mental health professional, Alexander thought he had seen and experienced everything. He was wrong! Alexander, son of a minister, had knowledge of God and knew about right and wrong; black and white as it would be called by his mother. Only until recent events did he actually believe God would interrupt man and his affairs.

It could only be sensed from a distance, but it was there all the time—just under the surface—bubbling into a major world threat. Government and Religion were becoming a god. It had happened before in Europe. Now it was happening again. A hybrid of the two institutions was manifesting itself as a beast that brutalized members of the populace who did not fall in line with the agenda it aggressively pursued.

Independence and free will in America and Mother Europe were about to vanish. Not even the president—even if he had wanted to—which most believed he did not, could prevent it from happening. Was the president being guided by an unseen evil, a secret religious order?

Things were getting dire and it all had transpired so subtly that it was too late to turn back the clock. No alarm could have prepared Alexander, or the rest of the United States for that matter, for what was getting ready to happen; for what, in fact, was already happening. Individual liberty was slowly eroding. The most powerful and influential nation that had ever been on the face of the planet, since the Roman Empire, was decaying. Government and Religion were becoming a present-day Babylon in America and in Europe and would soon entangle the entire globe. The delusion had started!

They that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety. Benjamin Franklin (1706-1790), Historical Review of Pennsylvania, 1759.

CHAPTER 1

TERRORIST BOMBING

F rozen in fear, Florida’s West Palm Beach’s residents cowered behind locked doors; trembling tourists held hands in churches while others sobbed on one another’s shoulders in public facilities.

Alongside other rescuers, Alexander and his war- and rescue-trained dogs, Martin and Luther, worked feverishly against time. The sound of rubble crumbling was heard as it was rapidly cast aside into stack after stack of bloodied stone, flesh and cloth-mangled sand from the searchers’ frantic digging efforts.

Alexander removed his mask and wiped his sweaty, dust-covered forehead. His eyes burned as he attempted to look through the smoky, thick air.

Many people were weeping as rescue persons, clergy, rabbis, and priests attempted to comfort them. Others were pleading that the workers continue searching for their loved ones and valuables as they were helped to safe places from the still smoldering devastation.

Alexander sighed and thought: Embedded in my mind are yesterday’s words coming out of Miami, West Palm Beach, a popular tourist destination from October until early May, has just been on the receiving end of a terrorist bombing that decimated two Jewish synagogues and one Messianic temple.

He blurted, At least all sources agree it was a terrorist bombing.

***

On the previous day:

After being flown via military transport from a small airstrip near his home in southwest Virginia, Alexander landed at Palm Beach International Airport. Time on his ranch was divided between his profession as a mental health counselor and his true passion: training the two canines that now accompanied him. Alexander smiled as he glanced down at his friends and constant companions. Although I’d like to believe it was my counseling expertise that has prompted this request for my help, I know it’s actually the exceptional rescue ability of you two heroes, Alexander said as he scratched both dogs behind their ears. He observed his canines’ sleek and muscular build as he reflected on the path that had brought them to Palm Beach County in Florida.

As they walked briskly from the military plane and around the terminal perimeters, Alexander thought to himself: Before becoming a counselor for New Horizons Counseling Center, I believe I was one of the best military canine trainers the US military has ever produced. He gazed fondly at his dogs. You know, big guys, I named you after the renowned Protestant reformer Martin Luther. Alexander lapsed back to his thoughts. Military commanders agree with my opinion that my two Doberman Pinchers exhibit extraordinary strength, intelligence, and character which developed through hours of extensive training.

Alexander lovingly slapped the dogs on their flanks as the three of them walked farther away from the airport terminal. Guys, we’ve got a long day ahead of us.

It was still early morning and, although they had been on the ground for only a few minutes, they were already feeling the effects of the heat and humidity. In West Palm Beach, the humidity was always horrible during the summer months. It was now mid-July! Heat rising off the blacktop gave the scene before him an odd—almost surreal—feeling.

His sky blue eyes misting, Alexander said, Boys, I bet you noticed how busy the terminal was, how congested but ordered the activity was as the numerous security and military personnel scurried about in so many different directions.

Alexander noticed a tall sergeant heading towards them at a clipped pace.

With a firm handshake, the sergeant said, Sir, I’m Sergeant Gregg. General Jackson has arranged transport to take you directly to ground zero, the epicenter of the tragedy. If you would, please follow me.

Alexander’s mind raced to his knowledge of General Jackson: He is a slender man with a charismatic attitude, over six feet tall with a muscular build, and completely bald. The general served in Vietnam as a grunt and both Gulf Wars as the go to general who got things done. Now he is serving under the direct leadership of Homeland Security Director, Dr. Jethro Montgomery. The general is considered the expert when it comes to dealing with domestic or foreign acts of terrorism. His knowledge and experience in radical Islam is unmatched.

Alexander’s thoughts snapped back to his present company with Sergeant Gregg and he quickened his pace. Immediately he broke into a sweat. By the time the small group reached the vehicle compound, Alexander’s shirt was soaked. It clung to his slender, six-foot-two, muscular body. His right hand swept his wet, dark blond hair from his forehead. He sighed and muttered under his breath. It’s plastered to my head.

Sergeant Gregg, Alexander and his dogs climbed into the rugged military ATV. The coastline had been evacuated, with the exception of the military presence, due to the elevated national security level and overall devastation. Because of having to pass through numerous security check points, a trip that should have taken five minutes turned into a ninety-minute ordeal. Sergeant Gregg used this time to bring Alexander up to speed on the details of the search and rescue operation that had been underway for more than a day.

Five short miles—but what seemed like seventy—the ATV, covered with dust and debris, brought them to one of the bombsites. As Alexander and his company ascended the vehicle, Alexander whispered to Martin and Luther, The remainder of this day is going to be long, boys.

Sirens from police cars and ambulances, along with horns from fire trucks, pierced the sultry air. As the sounds became louder, several police cars and ambulances joined the many service vehicles already parked in the area.

Alexander whispered to Luther, Boy, as terrible as it is today, I can only imagine the horror when this first occurred. Then, he thought to himself, but I doubt anyone survived this horrendous act.

Alexander sensed the family members’ sorrow but knew he had to be brave, not only for the on-lookers but for his dogs. He placed his forehead on Luther’s head and patted Martin’s head. We must not be discouraged by the people’s sobbing. All the clergy, rabbis, and priests are doing their job in seeking to comfort them. We must do our very best in our specialty and lead the rescuers in, hopefully, recovering live victims from this devastation.

As Alexander delved through the rubble, he sighed and muttered, This site along with the Messianic one—only a block down—and the synagogue several miles from this location were once places of worship for hundreds, perhaps several thousands. I know how terrible I’d feel if these were one of the churches I know from back home.

After accessing the overwhelming amount of destruction at this site alone, Alexander reckoned and then spoke loudly, It is clear the perpetrators of these horrendous acts had no desire to spare any life!

Alexander winced and covered his nose at the stench of charred body parts, many beyond recognition; others were mangled or strewn yards and yards apart. Boys, I’m sure that if you had been here with me a few years back, you’d agree that this is a far cry from the West Palm Beach of then. The population was over 85,000. And I loved the skyline view. The ‘Orchid City’ as it is fondly called will never be the same.

He gazed around again. Thankfully this synagogue and the Messianic place of worship are not downtown or in a densely populated part of the city. However, it is more densely populated at the second Jewish synagogue. Perhaps not as many lives will be lost as were on 9/11 with these bombings, but it’s just as devastating to the people here, the city, and the nation. They were bombed at exactly the same time, I understand. Before he secured his mask, he sneezed and then spoke softly. Can’t allow allergies to act up now, can we, Luther boy?

Luther and Martin awaited their master’s command.

Piles of concrete and metal lay in a heap where a temple once stood. The building had been razed. The dust and heat were stifling.

Alexander and his dogs worked their way carefully across the debris. Martin and Luther’s ears were trained for the faintest whimper; their noses constantly checked the air, while their eyes searched for any movement. Time after time the dogs grew excited as they dug another bloodied body partially from the rubble, but their demeanors changed when they realized that it was only an arm.

Luther sighted a demolished shoe partly buried underneath a large slab of concrete.

On reaching Luther, Alexander and another rescue worker saw it contained only part of a mangled foot.

His ears lifted, Luther was already seated upright. He whined.

Alexander patted him. You already knew, didn’t you big guy?

Alexander spoke to the worker, Martin is nearby. He’s discovered part of the rest of this poor victim. I pray we can find one live person or at least a victim in tact enough to be recognizable so that their loved ones might provide a proper burial and, perhaps find some closure.

As if in complete agreement, Luther offered his right paw to Alexander. He maintained his posture as if he knew he must continue the search.

The workers continued looking for life in another direction.

What professionals you, Luther, and Martin are. Alexander looked in Martin’s direction. This situation is different, more drastic, boys!

Martin approached Luther and both sat in position.

Alexander latched the dogs’ leashes onto their collars.

I wonder if things are worse at the other synagogue site, Alexander thought. For time being, at this site, Alexander’s optimism vanished as discovery after discovery found only death, and most of the time, dismemberment. Under his breath, he whispered, I suppose there isn’t, and in fact, has never been much hope for survival here.

They pressed forward, emotions running the gambit.

Suddenly the dogs leaped forward with such intensity that Alexander was almost pulled off his feet.

Martin and Luther barked fiercely; they and Alexander hurried forward as quickly as the uneven footing would allow.

I think we’ve got something, Alexander shouted to nearby rescue workers.

A tall firefighter responded, After so many hours, I don’t believe it will be any different now. At the onset, several did survive but died later.

But the dogs reacted with such fervency that the emergency techs responded with renewed excitement.

The firefighter, Josh, cautioned, Don’t get your hopes up, Sir.

Alexander shouted, I believe this is different. My heroes know something. Every one who can, over here! I believe Martin and Luther have something, maybe someone alive this time.

Two male and one female rescue worker rushed over to Alexander and his new-found friend, Josh, where the dogs perched on top of the rubble. The five-member team, along with the dogs, began tedious and agonizing digging, being careful not to further injure anyone buried below the slab. After another hour of the rescuers’ efforts, the four men and woman pulled the slab off of the victim.

Cheers went up as a young man who appeared to be in his twenties was carefully removed from the rubble.

Alexander sighed with relief. Remembering his parents’ faith, he whispered softly. This is beyond human ability, indeed that anyone could miraculously survive—although bloodied and filthy—the explosion and resulting destruction. Thank God!

What’s your name? Alexander asked as soiled hands with clean cloths wiped the young man’s dirty, bearded face.

After several weak attempts, he muttered, Moses, just before oxygen was administered to him.

The tall firefighter beamed. After he and Alexander walked a short distance away from the others, Josh whispered, What a miracle. He’s in better shape than any others found alive by the first responders. And I was one of those who got to this site first. Most of those alive were mangled and lived for only a short time. A miracle indeed, I’d say.

After Moses was loaded into the ambulance, the crew returned to their search with restored enthusiasm.

Alexander whispered to Josh, Moses will probably be the last and only survivor pulled from what was meant to become—and has succeeded in part—the graves of all the innocent victims.

Alexander and Josh parted in separate ways; then, Alexander and his dogs moved outside of the roped-off area.

After climbing upon a pile of rocks transported from the site, Alexander sat and observed movement at the nearby Messianic site. Hey boys, it’s getting dark; however, the flood lights—though damaged—should provide enough light for us to continue our work.

He turned his head to his left and saw Sergeant Gregg. Martin, Luther, Sergeant Gregg is hurrying this way. He must have seen us as well.

Gregg stood near the bottom and called up to where they perched, General Jackson wishes a meeting as soon as possible.

Gregg glanced down at his boots. With a quiver in his speech, he continued, That is, as soon as we drive past the other bombsite.

Alexander whispered into Luther’s ear, I’m exhausted, fellow. He looked at Martin who now pressed against his side. He stroked both dogs while he extended empathy, but sought sympathy. I suppose you two are a little tired as well. He wiped his moist brow. Frankly, I’d have preferred to skip debriefing tonight.

After descending the pile of rocks, Alexander said, Sergeant Gregg, it’s about twenty-one hundred hours. You, the dogs, and I are filthy. Can we even get back in time, much less be presentable? With the time it will take for the drive and for observing the other site, won’t we be late?

Sergeant Gregg wiped his dusty face. Don’t worry about any of this. It’s already covered. We will only drive by slowly and not get out at the other Jewish site. Not much different than this one. However, more buildings were damaged and more residents and travelers were injured or killed—makes no sense. I’ve been there. Sergeant Greg frowned.

He continued, I feel you and your dogs have observed enough here to give an accurate assessment. After our brief observance of the downtown site, General Jackson will meet us less than two miles from here in a vacant building. It’s been set up for his access to offer his evaluation. As you know, the national guard and other military units have been assigned to the three sectors of Palm Beach City and are closely watching—by order of the president—every synagogue, mosque, and church as well.

After boarding the ATV, Alexander thought: How good it feels to sit in this vehicle—if only for two miles after the drive-by at the third bombed site. However, this trip to the third site took a couple of hours, in part, due to the many check points. I see Gregg has been on the phone during the entire drive.

Don’t worry, Wallace. General Jackson has slept briefly, if at all, since this tragedy. He is awaiting our arrival and is fully aware we will be approximately two hours late.

***

With a distinct Tennessean accent and a firm handshake, the General greeted Alexander. "Captain Alexander Wallace, we can’t thank you enough for having come