OPERATION WRATH OF GOD, Chapter 12

Copyright © 2026 Robert Ensor

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.First published February 2026.The author’s moral rights have been asserted.

All Bible quotations, unless otherwise stated or referenced, are taken from the online World English Bible (WEB), which is in the public domain. It is available at the following link: https://ebible.org/eng-web/index.htm. Sometimes I paraphrase the Bible and when I do so, I reference the chapter and verse. Direct quotations from the WEB are indicated by quotation marks. English language Bibles are translated from Hebrew and Greek manuscripts. I am no linguist, and I don’t know any linguists, so I have had to rely on others’ translations and romanizations of the Hebrew and Greek texts. Occasionally, I have examined the original Hebrew and Greek of the Bible, zeroing in on key words where the received English translation is debatable or misses the full meaning of the original. To clarify, the WEB refers to the Antichrist, the beasts, and the False Prophet, but makes no reference to any ‘Khan’ or ‘Lavani’, which are names for the Antichrist and the False Prophet given for the purposes of this book.

Disclaimer: I am not a doctor or a therapist and nothing in this book should be considered medical advice. Nor should it be considered a substitute for diagnoses, prescriptions and treatments from qualified doctors. If you have symptoms, I recommend that you see a doctor to rule out anything serious and get proper care.

Chapter 12: Don’t Go Out!

Three RAF guns were trained on the enemy. The hostage taker shouted, ‘put your guns down or I shoot her!’ Dexter found an angle on the far left of the room, behind a bunkbed. He looked at John. Burrows shook his head forbiddingly.

Instead, he dropped his gun and prayed to God, ‘Lord, you promised that my wife would survive the tribulation and participate in the rapture with me. I know you take your promises seriously, so deliver on that covenant now. Please Lord, save my wife!’

The beaster laughed scornfully, letting his guard down a little. Then his laughter turned to vigorous coughing. He vomited black blood, his eyes rolled up into his head. He dropped the gun and Penny ran away. The beaster seized for ten seconds, limbs shaking, and blood poured out of his nose and ears. Dexter shot the man twice, just to be safe. The beaster lay still. He was dead.

Penny ran into John’s arms, sobbing. They embraced and kissed.

‘I said I would always have your back.’

She laughed and said, ‘in for a Penny…’

‘In for a pound.’

There was a lot of rattling coming from the back end of the barracks. Dexter aimed his gun. John instinctively pushed his wife to the ground and lay on top of her.

It was Longcot, crawling out of the ventilation shaft.

‘Relax boys, it’s only Santa Claus coming down the world’s dustiest chimney,’ he said, coughing and patting the dust off his tracksuit bottoms.

John apologised to Penny, as they hauled themselves up.

‘You should have considered being a rugby player,’ she said, studying the bruise on her forearm.

Jen and the kids came over. Matthew and James were re-enacting how daddy shot the bad man.

‘How are you?’ John asked.

‘We’re fine,’ said Jen. ‘All things considered.’

‘Gran was telling us the story of Noah’s Ark when those rude men interrupted,’ reported Peter, excitably.

‘Well, they won’t be interrupting anyone anymore,’ said John.

Dexter began administering first aid to a hostage with a knife wound.

‘Guys…Berry is dead,’ said Barrington, pointing to the bloodstained, track suited corpse.

John ran over. Berry had fallen between bunk beds, riddled with bullets in the shoulder and the neck, all of them just above the bulletproof vest. Burrows checked the pulse. Nothing.

Berry’s red-headed wife Helen was sobbing gently over his corpse. Barrington looked stricken to hear the news. John took it with equanimity.

‘He will be okay soon,’ John said.

‘He’s dead!’ Helen cried. ‘How can he be okay?’

Then an idea occurred to her. An idea that, under ordinary circumstances, she would have dismissed as nonsense. She was a believer, but not that much of a believer. ‘I have seen you do many amazing things, John. Things I can’t explain. Can’t you…resurrect him?’

‘I won’t have to. The Lord will do it before nightfall,’ he said, calmly. ‘I saw the souls of those who had been beheaded for the testimony of Jesus and the word of God, and such as didn’t worship the beast or his image, and didn’t receive the mark on their forehead and on their hand. They lived and reigned with Christ for one thousand years. The rest of the dead didn’t live until the thousand years were finished. This is the first resurrection. Blessed and holy is he who has part in the first resurrection. Over these, the second death has no power, but they will be priests of God and of Christ and will reign with him for one thousand years. Revelation 20:4–6.’

A grim silence. Helen looked sceptical. As did everyone else.

There was a weird scratching noise.

‘Did you hear that?’

‘Sounds like it’s coming from the toilet,’ said Penny.

John picked up his Glock. He and the officers descended on the toilet, stacking up outside. Then Dexter kicked the door in. Inside they found Ian Coxwell, still in his RAF officer’s uniform. His left leg was shaking against the floor with terror. That is what they had heard from outside.

‘Don’t shoot!’ he cried, holding his hands up.

‘Why not?’ said Dexter, grimly. ‘You killed my wife. You endangered their families and you tried to kill us. Why shouldn’t we save the taxpayer some money?’

‘I’m sorry,’ Coxwell said, crying. ‘I did it to save Sally and…our child. They were left outside.’

‘We already know all about you and Sally. What you did is no excuse for mutiny and mass murder,’ John said.

Looking at Coxwell and his narrow weasel face, with the upturned nose, John wanted so very badly to slot him. His finger stroked the trigger. Then ‘pray for your enemies,’ (Matthew 5:44) flashed into his mind. Like Dexter, he wrestled with the hatred and the loathing and the wrath.

‘Please, don’t kill me. You killed us to save your families. I was willing to kill you and your family to save mine. Are we so very different?’

‘Yes, we are,’ John said.

‘How?’

‘Because I am going to let you live. It probably won’t be for long, but I won’t be the one to kill you.’

‘Who will?’

‘Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord. Arrest him. Don’t kill him,’ John said, with a stern look at Dexter.

‘You have no authority here, Burrows,’ said Dexter, his eyes wide and glaring. ‘I am the ranking officer present. I’ve tolerated your impositions thus far because they happened to be tactically sound – for the most part. But you’re wrong on this one, mate.’

‘You’ll be the one court martialled if you pull that trigger. This worm isn’t worth the trouble,’ Burrows said. But he saw the focused hatred in Dexter’s eyes and knew the man wasn’t equal to his rage. Barrington, Longcot and Jenkins did not object to a word Dexter said, and they all glared at Coxwell with sullen rage. The others would likely turn against him if John disarmed the widowed Flight Lieutenant. That was one fight Burrows did not want. He muttered a quick prayer.

Dexter aimed at Coxwell’s head and began to squeeze the trigger.

The rifle flew from Dexter’s hands and smashed against the wall at lightning speed, without John or anyone else touching it. It went so fast that Dexter himself was unbalanced by the tremendous force.

They turned to look at John, gobsmacked.

‘Take that as God’s verdict. All of you. This is not the time or the place for judgement,’ John said. ‘But Coxwell will be judged, of that I assure you,’ he added, gravely.

Coxwell was petrified. ‘Thank you,’ he spluttered.

‘I didn’t do this for your sake, but for the sake of he who made me and delivered me and my family from evil.’ John dropped his pistol on the hard concrete and walked out to be with his family. Coxwell was handcuffed by Jenkins.

‘Guys,’ Longcot said. ‘We need to secure the facility. Prevent any more of these bastards from getting in.’

‘Let’s go,’ said John. The bunker’s security had completely slipped his mind, what with Penny, Coxwell, and all the drama.

They ran out into the corridor, and came to the decontamination showers. There they found Leighton Bedfellow and his grey-haired senior officers and technicians, shutting the main blast door to the bunker.

The Group Captain turned to face John and said, ‘I’m putting this facility in lockdown. No one goes in or out until this crisis is over. Understood?’

***

Many of the soldiers who had participated in the Sack of Babylon, including Azim and Amir, were ordered to accompany Lavani, Khan and his Sacred Guard on their latest western campaign. Khan and Lavani had called the armies of the Olive Branch Alliance to be gathered together at the plain outside Meggido in northern Israel, to prepare for war. They were preparing to retake Jerusalem, which by all accounts was in revolt. The only people left in Babylon were the remaining garrison of Olive Branch soldiers and police, their families and their favourite prostitutes. They cavorted in the pleasure palaces and counted their plunder.

Their revelry was short-lived. The Euphrates River dried up (Revelation 16:12). A sheet of thick black cloud rolled across the earth, obscuring the sun in some places, the moon and stars in others (Zephaniah 1:15; Matthew 24:29; Revelation 16:10).

The Iraqi Army had reached the plain, known as the Jezreel Valley. The landscape was quite flat and dotted with fires. In the dim half-light it was difficult, but possible, to see where one was going. The remaining military vehicles had their headlights on. The fire from the sky had hit the Iraqi Army badly, taking out some of their vehicles. Numerous soldiers were burned alive in their Humvees, tanks and armoured fighting vehicles. Many soldiers of the alliance were out of commission from the plague of sores.

The end result of these devastations was that the columns making their way to Megiddo were decimated. Increasingly, soldiers were requisitioning camels and donkeys and pack mules from the local population, like Hitler’s army during the retreat from Russia in 1944.

Hunger was hitting the army badly. The thirst was worse. The springs and rivers were turned to blood, and that blood was putrid and undrinkable, so they only had the water in their canteens, and their supply trucks. And most of the supply trucks had been destroyed by the fireballs.

They were criminally unprepared and undersupplied even before the divine judgements came down on them. The whole invasion force was called together at the last minute. They had been travelling for over 12 hours now. The men were dropping like flies. Khan didn’t care. He was fine in his gold-plated, air-conditioned bulletproof Humvee limousine. But for the soldiers, it was more like a death march than a march to war. And because they had given Khan access to their minds by taking the mark, when he gave them an order, they could not disobey. The brain and nervous system automatically followed his dictats. Most of them were conscripts and would otherwise have deserted en route.

Azim and Amir were in the back seats of an armoured Humvee rumbling across the northern Israeli countryside. Thankfully their vehicle had thus far eluded the fireballs. Amir was just reflecting on how lucky they had been when the Russian-made armoured personnel carrier (APC) in front of their Humvee was hit by fire from the sky and exploded in a dirty orange flash. The machine gun turret flew off, bent and charred. Shrapnel fell all over the place. A wheel landed on the Humvee’s bonnet. The driver swerved to avoid the burnt-out husk of the APC. As they drove past the blazing wreckage, Azim felt the heat of the flames on his face through the open window and heard the screams as the soldiers inside burned alive. It had been like this for the last three hours.

Finally, they arrived at the plain just outside the archaeological site Tel Megiddo. The fields here were largely brown and scorched by the fires, some of which were still burning nearby. Smoke plumes reached towards the heavens. The sky was totally black, but not a drop of rain fell to quench the fires. The atmosphere was doom-laden, at best.

There were tens of thousands of soldiers gathered from the nations of the Olive Branch Alliance: Iran, Iraq, Syria, Lebanon, Libya, Sudan, Egypt, some Israelis and volunteers from elsewhere (Joel 3; Revelation 16:16).

‘I need some water, man.’

Amir was not accustomed to complaining. He wouldn’t have said anything unless his dehydration was serious.

‘Let’s sniff around Khan’s tent. He and his circle will eat and drink better than the rest of us,’ noted Azim.

When they walked past Khan’s opulent desert camo tent, they heard someone ranting and raving about petroleum like Hitler in the bunker. Then he broke down sobbing. Azim and Amir both recognised the voice as Khan’s.

‘What was that about?’ Amir asked, in his bad Arabic, in case anyone overheard.

‘Khan was told they’ll run out of fuel before they get to Jerusalem. He didn’t give his logistics enough notice and the fireballs blew up all of his fuel tankers. Every single one.’ Azim whispered.

Two Sacred Guard rounded the corner of the tent ahead. They glared at Azim and Amir, who promptly shut up as the two secret policemen walked right past them. Azim saw the supply crates stacked outside, checked no one was looking, and helped himself to a bottle of mineral water, which the operators shared.

‘Thanks, man.’

They had no sooner finished the bottle when the Sacred Guard began to mobilise all around them. Azim stuffed the empty water bottle back into the supply crate. The Sacred Guard were forming a phalanx from the tent to the low hill Tel Megiddo.

Khan walked between the rows of his secret policemen and stood on the ruins of Tel Megiddo in his black cloak. He delivered a short, brutal speech: ‘Jerusalem and Judea have rebelled against my authority. They must all be killed! Loot them! Spare no one! But we must get there before they have time to consolidate their insurrection and call for reinforcements.’

There were no more Hitlerian histrionics, no dramatic flourishes. Just a grim, desperate order to ‘slaughter the rebels’ from a tired, middle-aged man. Khan shuffled off the hill, like Hitler in the bunker. Was that a tremor in his right hand? A fleck of grey hair beneath the folds of his hood? He had to be helped over the rubble by Lavani, and returned to his tent with a hesitant gait.

Azim thought the part about calling for reinforcements was odd. ‘Where are they going to get reinforcements from? NATO is staying out of the war. They are afraid of Khan’s nukes. Who is going to reinforce?’

‘God,’ said Amir. ‘Jesus is coming.’

‘How can you be so sure?’ asked Azim.

‘Look around. We’re at Armageddon. The Antichrist is gathering his armies to sack Jerusalem. Could it get any more apocalyptic?’

They looked across the scorched earth, and saw the fireballs falling from a black sky. A crack of deep, angry thunder pierced them to their marrow.

‘Fair point,’ said Azim.

***

At Petra, when the fireballs started falling from the sky, some of the sentries retreated into the safety of the cliffside buildings and hid with the civilians, but many remained at their posts, including the snipers and a drone operator who stayed in the basin beyond the cliffs. He took cover behind a pillar of the Great Temple, holding the 777^th Infantry Brigade’s flag, a shepherd’s crook on a red background. He controlled a portable ISR (Intelligence Surveillance Reconnaissance) drone from his tablet computer. His mission was to alert the main forces of incoming hostiles from the direction of the Umm Sayhoun settlement to the north by raising the flag.

The remnant had heard that the beast, Khan, was marching west and had grown terribly anxious. The atmosphere in Petra was so unbelievably heavy, oppressive and pregnant that people were fainting (Luke 21:26). The earth was enduring terrible birth pains and at this point, the head of the baby was crowning. About two hours ago, the sky had gradually darkened with thick cloud. It was a kind of dusk. Not day, and not night (Zechariah 14:7).

Moshe had ordered the senior officers in his battalion to withdraw to The Treasury in response to the fire from heaven. Rabbi Kravitz had yelled at Moshe when he entered the structure, telling him that this was yet another prophecy from Revelation come to pass.

100 Israelis were crowded inside the main chamber of The Treasury, at the heart of Petra. Civilians were in there with the IDF. The 777^th hadn’t had time to set up in one of the smaller side rooms, that would afford a little privacy.

‘Sir, take a look at this,’ said Séren (Captain) Israel Yalom, to his commander, Moshe Aviram. Yalom handed Colonel Aviram his smartphone and turned the volume down, so that as few of the people as possible could hear it.

It was a message from their Mossad source. A video of CIA Deputy Director of Operations Daniel Blackburn, a paunchy, grey-haired man in a grey suit wearing a grey tie, in a meeting held on the top floor at Langley. Blackburn said: ‘Armies of the Olive Branch Alliance are also headed to Petra, Jordan, to wipe out the Israeli refugees there. They are sending forces across the Araba desert from southern Israel and the Sinai Peninsula. Kahn threatened to invade the Jordanians and annex their country if they did not let his armies enter via the desert and kill the refugees or as he put it, “extend the olive branch of peace and stability to Edom, and return the region to Jordanian sovereignty”. The Jordanians have pulled back their border forces beyond Petra, to Wadi Musa and the surrounding area, just in case Khan doesn’t keep his promise and tries to annex their country, partially or entirely. The Jordanian military has given Khan the approach from Umm Sayhoun, but they want to keep him out of Wadi Musa.’[i]

Silence.

‘Alright,’ Moshe said, having absorbed the news like a blow to the gut. ‘All sentries return to their posts. I don’t care if it’s raining fire: every man at his post.’ The order was transmitted via radio and sent to their messaging group.

Pretty soon a mob of panicked civilians was pressing Moshe for answers.

‘What happened? What did he just show you?’

‘Did I hear something about an invasion of Jordan?’

‘Are they coming for us?’

They were only held at bay by the bayonets of the soldiers. A warning shot was fired into the ceiling and they backed off.

‘Everyone shut up,’ said Moshe, his voice strong and clear above the clamour. ‘We have received intel, but it has yet to be confirmed. Remain calm.’

Another fireball fell in the gorge outside, scattering flames into The Treasury. The civilians withdrew from the doorway. Some of them screamed in terror. Morale was at an all-time low.

All of a sudden, the fireballs stopped. The remnant waited. After two minutes, not a single fireball had fallen from the sky. This hadn’t happened since the rain of fire began.

Tentatively, Moshe set foot outside. It was eerie, and dark, and the whole area felt weird.

Then Israel Yalom ran to Moshe with a new message. ‘Boss, there’s chatter on Jordanian social media that the Messiah has arrived, that he is in the wilderness south of Umm Sayhoun, headed our way.’

They watched a shaky, handheld video of a tall, long-haired, bearded man walking across the desert in white robes. Moshe checked the drone’s feed on his phone, and saw the same man headed toward them.

The colonel marched over to the end of the winding pass. The drone operator raised his red flag. Moshe looked about and saw a small white dot in the distance. He said to one of the snipers keeping watch, ‘Hand me your rifle.’

The soldier complied, giving him the Mk 24 rifle. Through the scope, Moshe could see the figure more clearly. It was the man who looked like Jesus, walking across the desert towards the Petra basin.

A crowd was gathering behind Moshe, in the mouth of the pass.

‘That’s Jesus!’ they said. ‘The Messiah! He is in the wilderness!’ A few of them, including some of the Christians and Muslims, ran out into the desert towards this figure. A second group was too afraid but canvassed support for others to come and join them.

The rabbi came forward and shouted, ‘If therefore they tell you, “Behold, he is in the wilderness”, don’t go out!’[ii] 

But they didn’t listen. A small crowd brushed past Moshe and his IDF sentries before they had a chance to stop them. Then the soldiers formed a security cordon across the narrow gorge and started turning more runners around. Those who were hiding in the buildings around the Great Temple in the basin could not be restrained so easily. They ran towards the white dot coming from Uumm Sayhoun. They ran into the wilderness.

When it became clear that no one else was going to follow, a shot rang out across the dark desert. One of the Israelis who had run out into the basin collapsed. A cacophony of gunfire followed. The drone was shot down. The IDF snipers frantically located and fired at the Olive Branch shooters. All who had run into the wilderness, about a hundred people in total, fell dead. The white dot began to turn back towards Umm Sayhoun.

‘They were picked off by an enemy sniper’ said an IDF sniper. ‘They’re up in the rocks over there.’ He pointed to the cliffs between the Byzantine Church and Umm Sayhoun. ‘Probably more on the other side of the basin.’

‘Can you see them?’ asked Moshe, trying to locate them with his scope.

‘I shot two of them. There must be more, though.’

‘Were they in uniform?’

‘Yeah. Iraqi.’

Moshe cursed. So. The rumours were true. The beast was coming for them.

 Read the next chapter here: https://www.robertensor.com/post/operation-wrath-of-god-the-rapture-the-second-coming-the-campaign-of-armageddon-and-the-kingdom-o-13

[i] Isaiah 16:3–4. ‘Hide the outcasts! Don’t betray the fugitive! Let my outcasts dwell with you! As for Moab, be a hiding place for him from the face of the destroyer. For the extortionist is brought to nothing.’ Also, in Isaiah 63 ‘the nations’ are fought by the saviour in Edom.

[ii] Matthew 24:26.