Behind the Veil: Angels of the Apocalypse

By J. E. Bandy Jr.

Foreign correspondent Jenny Claiborne, undercover FBI agent Ernesto Cruz, and veteran CIA operative Mitch Garvey, Jr. (each representing an individual in the biblical parable of the sower) have been selected for a special, divinely appointed test, a test on a scale and magnitude not seen since the days of Job. In their own way, each will play a pivotal role in hastening or delaying the rise of the Antichrist; gaining the attention of both the Angels of Light and the Angels of Darkness. In a desperate race against time, the Angels of Darkness gain permission from the Godhead for one last test of faith; a grand spiritual challenge between the forces of good and the forces of evil with the salvation of millions hanging in the balance.

Behind the Veil: Angels of the Apocalypse examines the end of days from the perspective of the angels tasked with carrying out the signs and wonders to be wrought upon the Earth as the Rapture approaches. It is a fictional work based on biblical concepts, and takes an innovative approach to exploring the intriguing life and work of Gods silent sentinels.

• Language: English
• Publisher: LifeRich Publishing
• Release date: Nov 18, 2016
• ISBN: 9781489709516

J. E. Bandy Jr.

J. E. Bandy, Jr. is an Intelligence Analyst with the United States Government and a former Naval Intelligence Officer. He is also an evangelical Catholic who hopes to inform, entertain, and inspire through his novels. He resides with his family in scenic Fredericksburg, VA. His favorite author is spy novelist John le Carre.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Desperate times call for desperate measures, and desperation makes heroes or villains of us all. I am the angel Aidyn; Seraph Messenger and Chronicler, First Class. I serve at the pleasure of His Majesty King Jesus the Christ (aka the Son).

Several Earth centuries ago, under the supervision of Chief Prince Gabriel in the ancient lands of Babylon and Rome, I assisted the Father and the Son in facilitating a series of visions to human prophets heralding the End of Days. As those days are now upon us, I’ve been granted a special dispensation from the Son to bear witness to those events as they physically unfold. First, let me provide a little context.

There was a battle brewing, a conflict in the Heavens the likes of which creation had never seen. The time was near, and every member of the Heavenly Host could feel it. At the Son’s command, every angel and holy creature in the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Heaven received orders for mobilization in anticipation of rapidly occurring events. Satan’s rebel army was making preparations as well. Soon, the whole of creation would be engaged in the most monumental event since the Father said, ‘Let there be light.’ It was against this backdrop that I answered a summons to the Holy Throne Room and received an audience with the Son.

Aidyn, the Son began as a hint of Heavenly incense wafted its way across the Firmament. You performed faithfully and well during your time of service to my prophets on Earth, and I wish to both reward and challenge you again.

Thank you, my King, I bowed.

The end of the Human Age approaches, the Son explained. "The Rapture,¹ the Period of Tribulation,² and the Millennium Period³ which have always been spiritual realities will soon become physical and historical realities as well. It pleased the Father to use you as our voice before to warn humanity of the events to come, and it pleases me to use you in a similar fashion now. You will provide an unbiased witness to these events on behalf of both the human and angelic communities. What you see and hear, write in a book. When completed, you will deposit it in the Library of Chronicles as a lasting testament of these times. You will receive unlimited access to the Firmament, the Library of Chronicles and the Angelic Dispatches for all three Heavens from now until the Great White Throne Judgment.⁴ And, you’ll be the first celestial being below the rank of archangel afforded such sweeping privileges. Will you do this for us?"

It would be my honor, Lord.

Excellent. Contact Tobias, Chief Angelic Chronicler. He will arrange whatever you need.

As you command, I smiled.

Thus, I became a witness to history.

Humans and angels share a common creator, a common history, and in some respects, a common destiny. It is impossible to tell the true story of one without including the other. Therefore, I will as best as I am able, translate the relevant spiritual concepts into physical terms and the relevant physical concepts into spiritual terms; so that angels, humans, and others may benefit from the remarkable exchanges I am about to relate. May, the God of all creation bless this endeavor.

~

Aidyn’s Commentary

To simplify a myriad of complex variables, the chapters of this account are divided into two sections – Dated Events drawn from Angelic Dispatches and Aidyn’s Commentary drawn from my personal observations. Dated events represent the historic timeline, while the commentaries are notes that I (Aidyn) have provided as background to human and angelic life-ways, activities, organization, and methods of warfare. These notes are included because to understand latter-day angelic and human interactions, one must have at least a basic appreciation of both the human and angelic cultures in operation at the end of the age.

Dated events include:

1. Activities occurring in the physical realm, designated by Earth or Star dates (including bi-locational events such as angels operating within the 1st and 2nd Heavens), and

2. Activities occurring exclusively in the spiritual realm, designated by Firmament dates referred to as Divine Epochs (DE). Commentaries provide wide-ranging observations that will hopefully assist the reader in gaining both a celestial and earthly perspective on events. Let us now consider the dispatches.

~

PART I

THE 1ST HEAVEN

[GN 1:7-10]

Chapter 1

ANGELS

Are they not all ministering spirits, sent out to render service for the sake of those who will inherit salvation?

[Heb 1:14 NAS]

1st Heaven / Earth date: Oct. 15th

Whoosh! Two Angels materialized out of thin air on either side of a Patriot Airlines 737 screaming towards earth. Its passengers, along with the air traffic controllers at Miami International Airport, held their breath as the jet careened towards the Atlantic Ocean. In the cockpit, the pilot (Captain Joseph ‘Josie’ Masterson) fought with all his might to regain control of his aircraft, while Copilot Pete Wallace updated the tower. For the first time in his extensive career, Josie was frightened.

Miami Control, this is Patriot Air two-one-three, Pete said as calmly as he could manage in the buffeting airliner. Have suffered catastrophic engine and back-up generator failure due to lightning strike from storm; unable to reestablish power to flight controls; rapidly losing altitude; experiencing difficulty regaining positive glide path. We are declaring an in-flight emergency.

Roger, Patriot two-one-three, the air traffic controller replied, will advise Coast Guard Search and Rescue.

Lord, help us, Josie whispered for the second time in as many minutes.

At the same time, twelve year-old Chelsea Cruz seated in the economy section of the aircraft was also praying. She was repeating the words from Psalm 91:11.⁵

‘For, He will give His Angels charge concerning you, to guard you in all your ways. They shall bear you up in their hands, lest you strike your foot against a stone. … For, He will give His Angels charge concerning you, to guard you in all your ways. They shall bear you up in their hands, lest you strike your foot against a stone. …

All around her, people were in a stunned state of panic. Some were holding onto each other, some were crying.

Outside in the fierce storm, unseen to the passengers, the two Angels worked quickly to restore essential power to the aircraft then took hold of its lower fuselage. With extraordinary strength, countering the weight of the plane and the powerful blasts of swirling air, they steadily lifted the forward section of the plummeting aircraft. This action stabilized the jostling and allowed lift to resume without ripping the plane’s wings or engines off. The reestablished power, coupled with even, rushing air against the turbine blades was enough to assist Josie in restarting one of the aircraft’s engines.

It isn’t full power, but it’ll do, Josie smiled.

Ten minutes later, Patriot Airlines flight 213 made a picture perfect landing at Miami International Airport.

As the passengers and crew hugged and shouted for joy after they had come to a stop, Chelsea whispered a quiet prayer.

Thanks, Lord, she said. That was a close one.

High above the airstrip, floating in the azure blue, lower Stratosphere, Samuel (an Angelic Sentinel)⁶ heard her.

You’re welcome, dear one, he smiled.

Thirty minutes later, on the drive back to her mom’s townhouse in the suburbs of Miami, Chelsea watched the passing scenery and had the strangest, most wonderful feeling that she and her dad were not alone.

There’s an angel with us. I just know it, Chelsea smiled.

Chelsea desperately wanted to tell her dad what she felt. But, she really didn’t want to hear his ‘anyone who hears a god speaking to them has mental problems’ speech for the thousandth time. In truth, three angels were with them that day; Chelsea’s Guardian Angel Mariah,⁷ whose presence she sensed; her dad’s Guardian Angel; and an Angelic Chronicler.⁸

Chelsea’s dad, Ernesto Cruz, was an FBI agent working on a high-speed, counter-narcotics task force in South Florida, and was divorced from her mom. He was tall and strongly built, with dark hair and piercing dark eyes. For the sake of his undercover legend, he sported a thick ponytail, a gold capped tooth, prison ink on both arms, and lots of gold and diamond encrusted jewelry. Cruz was a great street agent, Chelsea knew. However, he was also a stalwart agnostic leaning towards stalwart atheist - something that really bothered his daughter, especially given his chosen line of work.

Chelsea’s mom, Mandy, (a lukewarm Roman Catholic) was not a lot of help when it came to spiritual matters either, Chelsea reflected. Had it not been for the constant, prayerful efforts of her paternal grandmother Imelda, whom she had just returned from visiting in New York, Chelsea doubted that she ever would have heard a word about Christ or the church that wasn’t saturated with sarcasm and doubt.

They’re calling it a miracle, Chelsea said, breaking the long silence.

Sweetie, I’m sorry for the scare you had. But, I’m certain there’s a perfectly rational explanation for what happened.

Don’t you think it’s at least POSSIBLE it was divine intervention? she pressed.

I don’t think it works like that, Cruz said.

High above the city, Aaron (the attending Angelic Chronicler) recorded the conversation in a book. It was the twenty-ninth time since her baptism the year before (he scribbled) that Chelsea had attempted to share her faith with her father.

She is persistent, Aaron smiled, and she loves her dad. Still, I’m not taking any bets on whether Cruz will come around.

Cruz’s Guardian Angel, Nathan, had previously been reassigned to other duties because of Cruz’s hardness of heart, but was recalled to Miami to help his former charge largely due to Chelsea’s prayers.

It’s odd, Aaron reflected, humans are so quick to dismiss their children. Yet, Jesus himself said, ‘See that you do not despise one of these little ones, for I say to you that their angels in Heaven continually behold the face of my Father.’⁹ But, I suppose if one doesn’t believe there is a Father, or a Heaven, or angels, it probably doesn’t matter very much, Aaron reasoned. What mystifying beings, he thought further. Some humans like Chelsea, her grandmother, and the Apostle Paul in earlier times, seem to comprehend the glory that awaits them as heirs of Christ’s salvation, but others like Cruz and Judas Iscariot seem to miss it entirely. Is it pride? Aaron wondered. Perhaps pride is simply a refusal to submit one’s will, perception, or judgment to God’s. Pride was Lucifer’s downfall, Aaron concluded.¹⁰ And, if it could happen to the Morning Star, it could happen to anyone.

At the same time, in an executive office building in Los Angeles, California, foreign correspondent Jenny Claiborne of CTN News was in a meeting to discuss her recent promotion to Mexico City Bureau Chief. It was a job (given the geopolitical climate in Mexico) that would place her in a position to influence social and political opinion beyond her wildest dreams. Jenny was an attractive, very popular, African American broadcast-journalist with long curly hair and an athletic figure. As she listened to pre-deployment briefings from her new managing editor and her new producer on CTN policy in Mexico City, network confidential sources, and possible storylines, Jenny began to absently think about her ‘three guys,’ as she called them.

Jenny had met her husband Tim while they were undergraduates at Stanford. He’d impressed her as a handsome, polite, well-meaning, twit with a religious fanatic for a mother. But, there was something about him … She had been, and still was, a very serious minded person. He, on the other hand, made her laugh and kept her from taking herself too seriously. He also had a heart of gold, was annoyingly faithful, and had proven to be a wonderful father to their boys Peter and Matt. She just hoped her bubbleheaded hubby hadn’t burned their new beachfront home to the ground during her absence over the past week.

Father, help us, Tim silently prayed, as he led his boys around the Sequoia National Park that same afternoon.

Tim had taken his sons on an overnight camping trip, and it had been a disaster from the start. Tim had no illusions; he was no outdoorsman. But, he had grown up without a father, and he was determined to do better by his boys. After obtaining gear for three from a camping supply store, they had loaded up the family SUV and driven out to the national park for some quality time. Tim quickly learned that his land navigation skills could use some improvement. But, Peter and Matt (seven and eight years-old respectively) hadn’t noticed. They were happily tussling and enjoying the fresh forest air. After wandering about the park for an hour, Tim picked a spot near a creek to make camp. They set up their tent as best as they could then settled-in for the evening. But, Tim had forgotten the Bunsen burner he’d previously purchased to heat their meals, and had nothing to start a campfire. So the trio ended up feasting on warm cranberry juice, cold canned spaghetti and potato chips for supper. Tim also discovered he had packed no breakfast.

I’m really bad at this, Tim reflected. Maybe I should enroll the boys in the cub scouts. It might be educational for all of us.

Luckily, school aged boys are easy to please, and in no time at all the three of them were fast asleep. About midnight, it began to rain heavily and their tent collapsed. There was no moon; they had no flashlight; and Tim had no clue where the nearest shelter was located. So, they ended up huddling together under a sleeping bag that Tim opened and spread over their heads like a blanket. It was a miserable night. But, despite all, the next morning Peter and Matt were happy, smiling, and trusting their dad to get them back to the SUV and safely home. Tim, however, was completely lost, and had no idea of how to get back. They were all wet, tired, and hungry. Tim felt like a complete failure, as both a father and as a man.

They wandered about the park carrying their equipment in their backpacks, and after passing the same rock formation for the third time, Tim (who had a gift of encouragement)¹¹ decided to tell his boys a story to keep their spirits up. He decided on an account from the Bible, I Kings 19:5.¹²

Hey guys, have you ever heard the story of Elijah and the Angel? Tim asked.

No, the boys replied in stereo.

Well, Tim said, Elijah was a prophet sent on a mission from God.

What’s a prophet? Peter asked.

A prophet is a kind of messenger Tim said.

What’s a mission? Matt asked.

A mission is like an errand, Tim smiled. "You know, how sometimes Mom or Dad will ask you to do something? It’s the same thing. Anyway,