The Cross Files


The Truth is out there!


Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake. Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you.--Matthew 5:11-12



Galilee straightened her suit coat, reminding herself of her purpose here today. The Bureau was unhappy with her work. What had they called it?...Proselytizing. Apparently talking about her religion was strictly forbidden by the higher ups in the FBI. She loved her job. She loved the mystery, the suspense, the feeling of fulfillment. She didn't want to lose it. Then again, she loved God more. If He chose to lead her in a different direction, she would follow unquestioningly.

"Agent Gilchrist, please have a seat." Assitant Director Baxter greeted with a cordial smile. He was an actor beyond compare. The man could mold his personality to fit the occassion. Today, the deceiver was adopting a sickeningly sweet, condescending tone.

"I would rather stand if that's all right, Sir." She answered simply.

A.D. Baxter looked a little surprised by her refusal but shrugged it off. He sat back against his desk, arms casually crossed. "We've had another complaint, Gilchrist. This is the sixth one in a month. I can't overlook it."

"I wouldn't want you to, Sir."

"These people have been through quite an ordeal. You're supposed to be helping them, not filling their heads with this religous garbage."

"It isn't garbage!" Galilee was getting angry now. "It is because of those ordeals that they need God. He's the only one who can ease their grief..."

"Agent, I have warned you time and again about this. You're harrasing these people! Now, I told you the last time we had this discussion that if you were caught proselytizing again that you would be put on suspension. I am afraid that I will have to carry through with that threat. Such behavior is not acceptable at the FBI."

Galilee's brown eyes flashed. "Don't bother, Sir." She tore the ID from her suit jacket and threw it at the man. "I quit!" She slammed her badge and gun on the desk before storming out of the room. As she made her way to the parking garage, she began to doubt her decision. What was she going to do now? She'd spent years working for the FBI. What else could she possibly do for a living?

With a sigh of frustration, Galilee unlocked the door of her Cheverolet Cavalier and slid into the driver's seat. God held her. He knew what was in store for her future. She was secure in that. She just needed someone to remind her of that truth upon occasion. As she slipped the key into the ignition, her eye caught sight of something rectangular and white laying on the dashboard. Cautiously, she picked it up. It was a note. What's more, it was a note she didn't remember placing on her dashboard. With trembling fingers, she unfolded the small piece of paper and held it under the light.

'You have passed a test of faith, Sister. Rejoice and be glad! You're reward for service to your King shall be far greater than you imagine. Fear not for your future, it is in the Lord's able hands. He, as I, watch you even now.--Malach'

Galilee's eyes doubled in size. Someone had broken into her car for the express purpose of leaving a strange note on her dashboard. The writer had known about her resignation, knew about her fears, and claimed to be watching her 'even now.' She swiveled in her seat, trying to observe anyone in the parking garage who seemed out of place. There was no one there. Empty.

Although she was still shaken by the idea of someone following her home, she really had no choice in the matter. It had probably been a pratical joke, anyway. One of the other agents was going for one last 'goodbye.' Her faith had provided nothing but amusement to many of her co-workers since she'd been officially accepted into the FBI nearly three years before. This was just their way of saying they'd miss her. Galilee turned the key in the ignition and began the weary drive home.

Unseen by the former FBI Agent, another car pulled out onto the road from the Visitor's parking area. It picked up a position nearly three car lengths behind the Cavalier and followed her until she was roughly a mile from her apartment complex. There, the driver pulled out his cell phone and hit speed dial. "Sir, mission accomplished. She responded to the note the way you said she would. She should be home in three minutes. Are we continuing with the plan as scheduled?...Yes, Sir...I understand...I will do my best to keep her safe. But, it may be a full time job. I don't think the Enemy is going to let us have this one quietly...He's planning something big this time. A full scale attack. The Wicked One's out there, Sir. I can smell him."

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Since the fall of the Angel of Light, there has been an ongoing battle between Good and Evil raging in our world. We are not the warriors in this battle, but the prize. Each and every day our souls are pulled both in the direction of God and the direction of Satan. It is ultimately our decision as to where and how we proceed. But, we are not helpless in this war. Through the sacrifice of Jesus, we are given the power to overcome the legions of Satan, and his legions are everywhere.

We are a small, but powerful organization created to aid humanity in the war against Satan. Our directive is clear, defy the Wicked One through our testimony and the power of our faith. Our adventures are strange ones, wrought with what some might call 'paranormal' activity. However, we know better. There is nothing supernatural about Satan, or the Cross Files.

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The moment Galilee turned the corner onto her street she knew something was wrong. Two black cars were parked on the opposite side of the road facing the colossal colonial house which had been divided into six apartments by a construction crew nearly ten years ago. They were new to this area. She'd never seen them before. Furthermore, she recognized the make, model, and condition to be that of a government issue vehicle. Unmarked. Not good at all.

Warily, she parked her Cavalier. Had this something to do with the note she'd received? Perhaps she had a stalker. Or worse, maybe one of the criminals she'd put behind bars had escaped or been released. Perhaps she was even now under the watchful eye of a man bent on her destruction. A shiver passed the length of her spine as she emerged from her vehicle. Almost immediately, two men grabbed her arms and pulled her into the alley behind the building.

"Miss Gilchrist?"

Galilee shifted in their iron grip to face the man who'd spoken. He was large, dressed entirely in black with a pair of sunglasses acting as a barrier between her gaze and his own. She didn't like to speak to someone when she couldn't see their eyes. "If you wanted to talk to me, Sir, I would have been more than happy to invite you up to my apartment. Theatrics like this are unnecessary."

"Have they contacted you yet, Miss Gilchrist?" The man prodded, his voice monotonous and void of emotion.

Galilee sighed. "They? I'm afraid I don't know to whom you are referring. Now, would you kindly let me go?" She jerked her left arm free only to have it snatched up again. "What is going on? You have no right to hold me here like this. I demand to know with what I am being charged!"

"We know they are watching you. They want you."

"They?" She gave them both a quizzical look and sighed. "I don't know what you're talking about. Who are 'they?' " She couldn't make out what the man was doing behind his large sunglasses, although it felt as if he were trying to stare into her very soul. Content with what they saw there, the men dropped her arms and stepped out of the alleyway. Galilee took a moment to regain her bearings before she ran after them. "Wait a minute! You didn't answer my question! What the...?" They were gone. She had only given them a sixty second head start, and they had vanished.

"Curiouser and curiouser." She murmured as she unlocked the building door and started up the stairs to her apartment.

"Miss Gilchrist?"

Galilee froze. There were four men seated on the chairs in the building's foyer. From the looks of things, they'd been waiting for her. "Listen, if you're going to ask me if 'they' have contacted me, or try to scare me with some nonsense about being watched...forget it. I'm not buying any. I've had a very bad day. I just want to go upstairs to my apartment and veg out in front of TV Land reruns. Is that so much to ask?"

The men looked at each other with bewilderment. Finally, one of them stood to introduce himself. He couldn't have been many years older than Galilee herself. He stood just above six feet with sandy blonde hair, sapphire blue eyes, and a physique that subtley advertised a daily workout routine. Galilee found herself pushing away thoughts she shouldn't have been having. Still, the man was attractive. "Miss Gilchrist, I'm Jordan Thomas with the United Nations. I've been asked to accompany these gentlemen as they discuss a matter of some importance with you. Is it all right if we speak in your apartment?"

Galilee's senses were immediately on alert. Why was he here? "Yes, yes of course. Please follow me." She didn't turn around to look back as she led them up the stairs and down a short hallway to her part of the building. She gestured them inside and waited until they were seated before she ensconced herself in an overstuffed armchair facing the room. "I assume this visit has something to do with my parents." It was a statement, not a question. She could feel the fear building in the pit of her stomach. ~Please God, don't let this be about my parents. Let them be all right.~

Jordan glanced down at his shoes and nodded slowly. "Yes, m'am, I'm afraid it is. You're parents were recently dispatched to a remote tribe in the Western African Republic's savannah region, correct?"

"Yes, my parents are missionaries. Their most recent project was a primitive tribe who has had little contact with the outside world. Others have speculated that they might still be practising canabalism." The fear had built until it was almost over-powering her.

"Miss Gilchrist..." One of the other men joined the conversation haltingly. "We have reason to believe that your parents' testimony was not received well by the tribesmen."

"Not received well?" Her face pailed. "They're dead...aren't they?"

The man nodded but did not elaborate. It was that bad.

Galilee sat a little straighter, staunching her emotions. "What happened?"

"You really don't want to know, M'am." The second man added his two cents. "It's awfully gruesome."

"I am...was an FBI agent. I can handle gruesome. Now, tell me what happened." Galilee ordered in a firm tone. ~God, give me the strength to hear this through. Please. I have to hear it if I'm ever going to sleep in peace again.~

The third and final man leaned forward in his seat, placing his forearms on his legs as he spoke. "You're parents were apparently seen as demon worshippers by the tribesmen. They were told to leave and denounce their God. When they didn't, they were taken prisoner." The man paused, trying to decide if he should continue. Galilee's frown urged him on. "By the looks of things, they were tortured for several weeks. They were denied food and water, given minimal amounts of sleep, and subjected to physical traumas such as cuts, burns, and beatings in an attempt to make them forsake their faith. When that didn't work, they were offered as a sacrifice to the tribal gods to make amends for their blasphemy. Parts of their bodies were later consumed as part of that ceremony."

Galilee could actually feel her heart break. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted to throw herself off the nearest mountain and plummet to her death on the sharp rocks below. But, she would do none of these things. "They would never betray Christ. God would have given them the strength to overcome any physical ordeal with which they came in contact. They couldn't have asked for a more noble death. They died in His service. I'm sure He's already rewarded them. Thank you for telling me. You can leave now. I'll be fine."

Three of the men seemed more than happy to exit the apartment as quickly as they could. Such news was never easy to deliver, and this woman's reaction had been atypical to say the least. The door closed behind them. One man had stayed behind. Jordan remained on the sofa with a perplexed frown. "You don't blame them, do you? The men who killed you're parents...you aren't upset with them?"

Galilee looked up, surprised at his presence. "I don't blame them, no. They didn't know what they were doing. They were instruments in a much larger war. I pity them more than I blame them...but I won't lie to you. I do feel anger for their actions. I'm only human." She sat back against the couch, closing her eyes and trying to block out the doubts threatening her faith. "My parents knew what they were getting into. They've always been ridiculed for their religion. It seems almost fitting that they die as they lived...strong in their faith despite the opinions of others."

Jordan's head cocked to the side. "What do you mean?"

"My parents were born Jews. My father was American; my mother was Israeli. They met on a kibbutz when they were eighteen and fell in love. My father married her and started at a university in Jerusalem in the hopes of one day becoming a Rabbi. It was almost exactly two months after their wedding day, when my father was driving home from class, that everything changed." Galilee's lips curled up in a smile as she recalled the story her father had told her so many times. It was a bittersweet smile, for her would never tell her this story again.

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Josiah steadied his hands on the steering wheel and stared at the dirty road winding out before him. This wasn't the sort of road he'd grown accostumed to in America. "Face it, Josh, you were spoiled." Then, he saw it. A flash out of the corner of his eye followed by the earpiercing screech of metal being twisted into a prison of steel and machinery. His heart stopped beating. A car accident. He easily manuevered his vehicle to the side of the road. When he exited, his eyes were met with a terrifying sight. A rental car lying on its roof in a ditch yards from the road. Without thinking, he raced off down the hill to the car, just as it burst into a wall of flames.

Josiah Yahudi stopped beside the vehicle, turning around to see if anyone else had come to help him. No one. The other cars were driving by as if nothing had happened. With his heart in his throat, Josiah kicked in the windshield and dove in the car, past the fire. He could hear crying and what sounded like praying. Later, Josh would claim that he was unaware of exactly what he did in the next few moments. He did not clearly remember dragging the four member American family from their car onto the safety of the ground several yards away. He didn't remember the automobile exploding as he carried the six year old girl to her parents. He couldn't recall throwing her to the ground and covering her body with his own, a move which resulted in third degree burns over most of his back. Thankfully, someone had called an ambulance to take the now five injured victims to the hospital.

Josiah passed out in the ambulance and did not wake up again for twenty-two hours. The first thing of which he was aware when he woke was an almost silent sobbing. He turned his head and opened his eyes to gaze fully upon his beautiful bride. Shoshanna was hugging herself and rocking slowly as she whispered a prayer in Hebrew and cried. "My flower, I'm fine...just a little worse for wear."

Shoshanna looked up from her prayer with wide brown eyes. "Josh! I knew I wasn't going to lose you. I knew Hashem wouldn't take you from me."

Josh laughed at his wife's ever constant faith. It was easy to see that her father had been a prominent Rabbi through most of her childhood. "How are the others?"

Shoshanna averted her gaze. "The mother and two children are fine, Josiah...but the father was apparently killed on impact. I'm sorry, Honey."

He felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach. Those children would now be forced to live without a father.

"Good morning, Mr. Yahudi." The voice from the door surprised him. He could only manuever a little without hurting his injured back, but he recognized the woman anyway. "My name is Cynthia Cooper, and it would seem that I owe you a debt of gratitude. You saved me and my children, Mr. Yahudi." She might have been beautiful had she not been covered in small lacerations, bound like a mummy, and seated in a rusty wheelchair. Nevertheless, she rolled herself up to his bed on the opposite side of Shoshanna. "I would like to repay that debt if I could."

Josiah shook his head. "No, m'am. You don't owe me anything. I failed you. If I'd reacted sooner..."

"Mr. Yahudi, everything happens for a reason. Even death. I don't pretend to know why all the terrible things in this would have to occur..but I do know that God's reason is a good one." She paused, watching his expression carefully. "Mr. Yahudi, I believe that the reason my family suffered such a horrific car accident, the reason my husband died, revolves almost entirely around you."

"Me?" Josiah sounded a bit skeptical. He knew where this was going.

"You gave us back our lives, Mr. Yahudi. I would very much like to give you back your soul." She held up her hand at the horrified look on Shoshanna's face. Cynthia apparently knew that the name Jesus Christ was blasphemy to many Orthodox Jews. "Please, I do not mean to offend either one of you. I simply ask that you hear me through before you write me off as a religious zealot."

Josh reached across the bed to take his wife's hand. "I'm sorry, M'am. Please...go on." His parents had raised him to be polite regardless of the situation. Besides, in the back of his mind he was intrigued by this woman's faith. Her husband had just died, leaving her to raise two young children on her own. And yet, she was taking the time to 'witness' to him about her belief in Christ. Whether he agreed with this woman or not, he had to admit that any religion with such devout followers was worth at least ten minutes of his time.

It took more than ten minutes. It would be two hours before Cynthia finally finished telling Josiah and Shoshanna about salvation. She could see the slightest glimmer of interest in their young eyes. "I believe that God has taken a terrible tragedy and turned it into an event to glorify Him." She concluded, laying a book on the table beside Josiah's bed. "I'm giving you my Bible, Mr. Yahudi. Please just read the New Testament and give Christ a chance. I assure you, you will not regret it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


"By the time my father recovered from his injuries, he'd read the New Testament seven times, once aloud to my mother. They were both Saved and converted to Christianity at a high price. My grandparents said Kaddish over their souls and proclaimed them dead for their blasphemy. There was nothing left. My parents moved to America, changed their last names to echo their Christian faith instead of their Jewish ethnicity, and then enrolled at a seminary school to become missionaries. My father's dream was to lead other people to salvation in the same way that he had been led." Galilee concluded in a soft voice, tinged with the emotion of the day.

Jordan's shock was evident. His handsome face was a mirror of amazement. "That's...quite a story. So, then, you're accent..."

Galilee laughed. "A combination of influences. I was born in Chicago. My father was an American from Tennessee; my mother was Israeli; and, I grew up in various countries in Africa where my parents were ministering at the time. Most speech pathologists have a hard time pinpointing my exact place of origin. I can drop it if it annoys you." She offered.

"No!" He flushed slightly and laughed. "I mean, no. It's beautiful. I've never heard
anything quite like it." It was Galilee's turn to blush. "So, you don't blame God for any of this? Shouldn't He have protected them?"

"He did protect them, just not the way you or I would think of protection. He protected their souls and their faith. They didn't give into the physical torture not because they were strong, but because Jesus was by their side holding their hands. They knew He was with them. He may not have protected their bodies from death, but that's all right. He saved their souls from damnation." Galilee stopped and frowned at the man sitting across from her. "You're not a Christian, are you?" She asked bluntly.

Jordan looked away. "Not really. I was never into that whole 'born again' thing. I just don't see how a 'loving' God can allow the terrible things in this world to occur. It doesn't mesh."

"Well..." Galilee picked up her purse and shuffled through the contents until she found a notepad. Carefully, she wrote a few things down and handed them across to the man. "Here. That's my home and cell phone number. If you're ever in the mood to discuss you're problems with Christ you let me know. I spent my childhood dissuading doubts like yours. I'm not sure I'll have all the answers, but I'll certainly try to answer what I can. Please, feel free to call me anytime."

Jordan's mouth dropped open. This woman had just learned her parents had died brutal deaths thousands of miles away...and here she was offering to give *him* answers to *his* doubts. She really was an amazing woman. "Is that a polite way of telling me to leave?" He asked with a grin.

Galilee bit back a smile of her own. This man had a way of making her forget her troubles. "Actually, yes. I'm horribly tired and my *bad* day just got worse."

There was a tinge of sadness in that final comment. It made Jordan's heart ache. "Just one last thing. What was all that stuff about being watched and not knowing who 'they' were?"

"I wish I knew." She declared with a heavy sigh. It was only after the man left her apartment that she unleased the dam of her emotions. The tears began in a slow trickle that built into a terrifying tidal wave of sorrow. Galilee curled into a ball on her couch, hugging a pillow and laying her forehead against her Bible.

~God, just see me through this. Let me have the strength of faith that my parents had when they died in Your great and glorious name. Let me make both them and You proud. Use this tragedy to glorrify You. Please, Lord. I'm scared. I have no job, no source of income. Now, I have no family. You are my Rock. You are my Fortress. I need You to give me strength. Please, use this horrible day to build many wonderful days in the future. Please, just let me find my Peace again.~

Her prayers continued long into the night.

Outside of her apartment, parked in an unobtrusive SUV across the street, sat a man. He laid down his binoculars and radio microphone before he pressed the speed dial on his cell phone. "Hello, Sir...Our worst fears have been realized...The Wicked One has declared war on her....Her parents. Killed while on a mission in Africa...Suprisingly well...No, her faith is holding strong...She was a wise choice, Sir...Do I act now or wait?...Yes, Sir, patience is a virture...The Lord will let us know when the time is right to make first contact...Just do me one favor, Sir, keep her in your prayers until this comes to a head. She's going to need them. I don't think Satan is going to give up on her this easily."


To be continued....

Coming Soon!

Episode 2
In an attempt to crack the sturdy foundation of her faith, the Adversary personally attacks Galilee; a friendship begins to build between Jordan and Galilee; and later, she comes one step closer to discovering the mysterious identity of her 'stalkers'.

Feel free to email me with any comments you might have!
Bethany--Ottiga@aol.com