Imagine Jesus and his disciples confronted face to face by a killer who has time traveled from present day California on a mission to steal and kill.
Operation Bethany captures this graphic suspense in a 350 paged debut novel by Charles Mgbolu now selling hot on Amazon.
Find below an excerpt from the novel
Tuesday, March 9, 6:00 am
Down Town Estate, Sonoma County
The cursed cell phone won’t stop ringing. Luke Colby reached from beneath his bed covers with the intention of ending the call. But when he glanced at the screen and realised it was Fernando; his friend and camera man, he pressed the answering button.
“Where are you?” Fernando asked like some detective.
“Home,” Luke answered sleepily “What’s up?”
"Stay there. I'm coming up"
Luke frowned “I didn’t intend to go-” But the line was dead.
He called Fernando names as he reached back to replace the phone on the night stand. It was six in the morning and Luke was just finally going to sleep. He wished he had switched off the cell but then, reporters never do that. He has been suffering acute insomnia for years and he hadn’t fallen asleep until a few minutes to six. He refused to use sleeping pills because he wanted to fight the disorder alone, and with a sane, clear mind. But this was the fifth year so it could be a lost battle. Luke shut his eyes and mentally tried to re-invoke his subconscious back to dream land.
Nothing!
Damn Fernando and whatever he had to say. After five minutes, Luke knew he had lost his sleep for good.
Luke worked in a newspaper house as a business correspondent while also trying to get into television reporting. He had already shot several stories good enough to make a show reel. It held his best works before the camera. This was where Fernando came in; a brilliant, self trained camera man although he always insisted the title was videographer instead of camera man, it gave him some stupid professional air. For Luke, It had always been his dream to land in some television reporter job someday. For now anyway, he was stuck with Sonoma Business weekly; a weekly newspaper that sold a few hundred copies monthly. It was barely enough to keep the paper floating but Luke was good and so his editor and publisher Ed Zuckerman always had to bend double every month to pay heavily and retain his services.
Luke lived in old Miss Pickles’ apartment in down town Sonoma. Right now, he contemplated rushing down to borrow her old rusty shotgun. Maybe a few holes in Fernando’s legs will remind the fool just how precious his sleep was to him. He didn’t decide quickly enough as his front door suddenly erupted with knocks. Luke ignored it. It was Fernando. He probably made that stupid call right down the street. But when the banging grew louder, Luke feared they might both end up being the target of Miss Pickle’s gun. She had complained several times of Fernando’s near-deafening knocks. She lived down the hall way, six doors from Luke’s apartment, so it couldn't really be proven she was exaggerating things. Of recent, her complaints had begun to come more like threats. Luke could envision a trigger happy old lady taking pot shots them; laughing or screaming obscenities. He tumbled out of bed and raced into the living room; straight for the door. He yanked it open and before Fernando could say a word, grabbed him by the arm and flung his lean frame into the apartment. He took a quick look down the hall towards Miss Pickles’ door and hearing nothing, quietly shut the door.
“Christ!” Fernando swore as he picked himself up. “What did you do that for?”
Luke ignored him; raced back into his room and dived under his bed covers. Fernando followed him and threw back the beddings. Luke’s apartment was a small one with just a living area and a bedroom. It had no kitchen but it boasted of a huge toilet and bathroom. Luke had to convert a part of the living room into a make shift kitchen area but then rarely cooked there, except for dinner dates that were held in the apartment which usually quickly lead to the bedroom. With his chance at catching on his sleep now completely smashed, Luke could feel his head burning hot and hammering hard, he desperately needed to sleep or he’d go crazy. Fernando wasn’t sympathetic.
“I have something to show you” He said and began fumbling with the locks of a brown leather bag he was carrying. Luke counted about eight buckle clasps that had to be undone. He had no patience for this and threw back the covers over his head. Fernando was really legally stupid. He was a tall dude; twenty six years old and a good 6'2 but
skinny enough to be blown off in a storm. He had on a pair of baggy blue jean that sagged treacherously low down his waist, possibly because of the dive he just took into the apartment. Fernando loved to wear bulk sized cloths as he was also putting on a large yellow t-shirt that didn’t do justice to his lean frame. He was Spanish with a shock of black hair and very deep dark eyes. His hair was neatly trimmed in the front to keep them from growing over his eyes. Luke on the other hand was thirty two and built like an average body builder with muscular chests and ripped belly. His hair was pale grey with
streaks of white sprinkled in. He had a hard face etched with a strong jaw line but soft green eyes. He was what his ex girlfriends called a smash and the real Malboro man. Shockingly, Luke was an atheist, an unbeliever and hater of God. This part about him never ceased to amaze anyone who had come to know him. He had such a large and beautiful heart, always ready to stick his neck out for others. Only human saints bound for heaven did that in today’s world. It was unbelievable such a heart could still be filled with so much hate and disdain for God.
Fernando finished unclasping the bag and removed several Digital Video tapes from it. They splattered on the bed beside Luke who popped his head out from beneath the covers. The tapes were about twelve or thirteen, Luke was not sure. Fernando picked two from the lot and waved them in the air
“There are breaking stories all over the place which we ought to be covering live. Why are you never around when we ought to be going live?” he asked in feigned anger.
Luke was tired of explaining this. “Fernando we don’t cover stories live because we’re not yet reporters who transmit live and that’s because no network has hired us to report live. Can you ever understand that?” He made to throw back the covers and
tunnel deeper but Fernando jumped on the bed and held the sheets down.
“Are you atleast going to hear what I have to say?”
“What’s the story?”
“Some professor murdered in the woods.”
“That’s interesting." Luke sat up. A slight shiver began racing up and down his right arm; Reporters itch, Luke called it. A hot tale always did that to him. He channeled all the nervous energy towards staring hard at Fernando. “Where did this happen and what’s his name?” He asked.
“Professor Fulton Llewellyn was a physicist. He was shot in his lab or shed or shack or whatever, deep inside the woods east of his school and please don't stare at me that way”
Luke gazed away in thought. “Rockcleft University”
“How come you know?"
"That’s because Rockcleft is the only college institution in Sonoma with woods on her east, fool. Who found him?"
"A colleague at the university, a man called Professor Larry Han. They worked close together. He said Fulton had called him late last night informing him of some mysterious call. He said he didn’t understand what Fulton was saying. Anyway, Fulton had said he needed to go into the woods to this shelter where he was found dead. Han claims he doesn’t know why he went there in the first place but then Fulton had promised to call back as soon as he returned from his midnight excursion. He didn't and Han said he had not picked or returned his calls either. He wasn't also at his home this morning
when he was checked on. Han had then gone into woods to find out what’s wrong"
Fernando brought out scribbled notes from his back pocket and gave them to Luke. He also dropped the two DV camera tapes he had picked on him "There are two theories here. One is that this lab or shed or shack-"
"Will you please decide on what it is?" Luke said impatiently
"I can't. Because I don't know what it is"
Luke shook his head “Continue”
"This place was probably his. Our Police sources are not sure but they suspect the place was robbed after the Professor was shot. He punched in security codes, opened the door and bamm!!” Fernando rolled back his eyeballs and stuck out his tongue for dramatic effect.
“Whatever was inside was immediately removed" he concluded.
"Something was removed?" Luke asked. He was also thinking.
"It’s a theory but yes something may have been removed"
“You seem quite certain of this?”
“This place is empty. Fulton wouldn’t have dashed into the night for nothing”
“Weren’t there prints on the floor or something?”
“Crime scene detectives have sealed off the entire area and searched. They found no print inside the shelter or boot marks in the soil outside. It seems like whoever it was that shot Fulton had done so perched in a tree. Then had flown in on eagle’s wings and without touching ground, made away with whatever that was inside”
"Any other reason for thinking he was robbed?" Luke asked.
"Police say the lock system found is one like they’ve never seen before not even in the White House" He laughed "That’s a joke"
" Be serious" Luke said firmly.
"The lock uses a highly sophisticated code system. It means that Fulton must have kept something of extreme value here; something that was threatened on this night. He must have been pretty spooked to have quickly dashed down there"
“To destroy it?” Luke asked.
“Or to remove it” Fernando added.
Luke tried to link the dots “That meant someone had been waiting for him in the woods; someone who knew about the codes but didn't have the combinations; a very tricky and highly intelligent person. He couldn’t access whatever it was that was inside this place with the door sealed and so had done something to force Fulton to panic and
come bounding out last night. Just what the killer or thief or both wanted. He didn't have the codes so had lain in wait for him in the woods. Fulton had appeared, entered the codes, opened the door and then was shot”
Fernando didn’t want to appear impressed “If you had run that line on camera, microphone clasped in your right hand and the body just being moved behind you, may be I would have been more impressed.”
Down Town Estate, Sonoma County
The cursed cell phone won’t stop ringing. Luke Colby reached from beneath his bed covers with the intention of ending the call. But when he glanced at the screen and realised it was Fernando; his friend and camera man, he pressed the answering button.
“Where are you?” Fernando asked like some detective.
“Home,” Luke answered sleepily “What’s up?”
"Stay there. I'm coming up"
Luke frowned “I didn’t intend to go-” But the line was dead.
He called Fernando names as he reached back to replace the phone on the night stand. It was six in the morning and Luke was just finally going to sleep. He wished he had switched off the cell but then, reporters never do that. He has been suffering acute insomnia for years and he hadn’t fallen asleep until a few minutes to six. He refused to use sleeping pills because he wanted to fight the disorder alone, and with a sane, clear mind. But this was the fifth year so it could be a lost battle. Luke shut his eyes and mentally tried to re-invoke his subconscious back to dream land.
Nothing!
Damn Fernando and whatever he had to say. After five minutes, Luke knew he had lost his sleep for good.
Luke worked in a newspaper house as a business correspondent while also trying to get into television reporting. He had already shot several stories good enough to make a show reel. It held his best works before the camera. This was where Fernando came in; a brilliant, self trained camera man although he always insisted the title was videographer instead of camera man, it gave him some stupid professional air. For Luke, It had always been his dream to land in some television reporter job someday. For now anyway, he was stuck with Sonoma Business weekly; a weekly newspaper that sold a few hundred copies monthly. It was barely enough to keep the paper floating but Luke was good and so his editor and publisher Ed Zuckerman always had to bend double every month to pay heavily and retain his services.
Luke lived in old Miss Pickles’ apartment in down town Sonoma. Right now, he contemplated rushing down to borrow her old rusty shotgun. Maybe a few holes in Fernando’s legs will remind the fool just how precious his sleep was to him. He didn’t decide quickly enough as his front door suddenly erupted with knocks. Luke ignored it. It was Fernando. He probably made that stupid call right down the street. But when the banging grew louder, Luke feared they might both end up being the target of Miss Pickle’s gun. She had complained several times of Fernando’s near-deafening knocks. She lived down the hall way, six doors from Luke’s apartment, so it couldn't really be proven she was exaggerating things. Of recent, her complaints had begun to come more like threats. Luke could envision a trigger happy old lady taking pot shots them; laughing or screaming obscenities. He tumbled out of bed and raced into the living room; straight for the door. He yanked it open and before Fernando could say a word, grabbed him by the arm and flung his lean frame into the apartment. He took a quick look down the hall towards Miss Pickles’ door and hearing nothing, quietly shut the door.
“Christ!” Fernando swore as he picked himself up. “What did you do that for?”
Luke ignored him; raced back into his room and dived under his bed covers. Fernando followed him and threw back the beddings. Luke’s apartment was a small one with just a living area and a bedroom. It had no kitchen but it boasted of a huge toilet and bathroom. Luke had to convert a part of the living room into a make shift kitchen area but then rarely cooked there, except for dinner dates that were held in the apartment which usually quickly lead to the bedroom. With his chance at catching on his sleep now completely smashed, Luke could feel his head burning hot and hammering hard, he desperately needed to sleep or he’d go crazy. Fernando wasn’t sympathetic.
“I have something to show you” He said and began fumbling with the locks of a brown leather bag he was carrying. Luke counted about eight buckle clasps that had to be undone. He had no patience for this and threw back the covers over his head. Fernando was really legally stupid. He was a tall dude; twenty six years old and a good 6'2 but
skinny enough to be blown off in a storm. He had on a pair of baggy blue jean that sagged treacherously low down his waist, possibly because of the dive he just took into the apartment. Fernando loved to wear bulk sized cloths as he was also putting on a large yellow t-shirt that didn’t do justice to his lean frame. He was Spanish with a shock of black hair and very deep dark eyes. His hair was neatly trimmed in the front to keep them from growing over his eyes. Luke on the other hand was thirty two and built like an average body builder with muscular chests and ripped belly. His hair was pale grey with
streaks of white sprinkled in. He had a hard face etched with a strong jaw line but soft green eyes. He was what his ex girlfriends called a smash and the real Malboro man. Shockingly, Luke was an atheist, an unbeliever and hater of God. This part about him never ceased to amaze anyone who had come to know him. He had such a large and beautiful heart, always ready to stick his neck out for others. Only human saints bound for heaven did that in today’s world. It was unbelievable such a heart could still be filled with so much hate and disdain for God.
Fernando finished unclasping the bag and removed several Digital Video tapes from it. They splattered on the bed beside Luke who popped his head out from beneath the covers. The tapes were about twelve or thirteen, Luke was not sure. Fernando picked two from the lot and waved them in the air
“There are breaking stories all over the place which we ought to be covering live. Why are you never around when we ought to be going live?” he asked in feigned anger.
Luke was tired of explaining this. “Fernando we don’t cover stories live because we’re not yet reporters who transmit live and that’s because no network has hired us to report live. Can you ever understand that?” He made to throw back the covers and
tunnel deeper but Fernando jumped on the bed and held the sheets down.
“Are you atleast going to hear what I have to say?”
“What’s the story?”
“Some professor murdered in the woods.”
“That’s interesting." Luke sat up. A slight shiver began racing up and down his right arm; Reporters itch, Luke called it. A hot tale always did that to him. He channeled all the nervous energy towards staring hard at Fernando. “Where did this happen and what’s his name?” He asked.
“Professor Fulton Llewellyn was a physicist. He was shot in his lab or shed or shack or whatever, deep inside the woods east of his school and please don't stare at me that way”
Luke gazed away in thought. “Rockcleft University”
“How come you know?"
"That’s because Rockcleft is the only college institution in Sonoma with woods on her east, fool. Who found him?"
"A colleague at the university, a man called Professor Larry Han. They worked close together. He said Fulton had called him late last night informing him of some mysterious call. He said he didn’t understand what Fulton was saying. Anyway, Fulton had said he needed to go into the woods to this shelter where he was found dead. Han claims he doesn’t know why he went there in the first place but then Fulton had promised to call back as soon as he returned from his midnight excursion. He didn't and Han said he had not picked or returned his calls either. He wasn't also at his home this morning
when he was checked on. Han had then gone into woods to find out what’s wrong"
Fernando brought out scribbled notes from his back pocket and gave them to Luke. He also dropped the two DV camera tapes he had picked on him "There are two theories here. One is that this lab or shed or shack-"
"Will you please decide on what it is?" Luke said impatiently
"I can't. Because I don't know what it is"
Luke shook his head “Continue”
"This place was probably his. Our Police sources are not sure but they suspect the place was robbed after the Professor was shot. He punched in security codes, opened the door and bamm!!” Fernando rolled back his eyeballs and stuck out his tongue for dramatic effect.
“Whatever was inside was immediately removed" he concluded.
"Something was removed?" Luke asked. He was also thinking.
"It’s a theory but yes something may have been removed"
“You seem quite certain of this?”
“This place is empty. Fulton wouldn’t have dashed into the night for nothing”
“Weren’t there prints on the floor or something?”
“Crime scene detectives have sealed off the entire area and searched. They found no print inside the shelter or boot marks in the soil outside. It seems like whoever it was that shot Fulton had done so perched in a tree. Then had flown in on eagle’s wings and without touching ground, made away with whatever that was inside”
"Any other reason for thinking he was robbed?" Luke asked.
"Police say the lock system found is one like they’ve never seen before not even in the White House" He laughed "That’s a joke"
" Be serious" Luke said firmly.
"The lock uses a highly sophisticated code system. It means that Fulton must have kept something of extreme value here; something that was threatened on this night. He must have been pretty spooked to have quickly dashed down there"
“To destroy it?” Luke asked.
“Or to remove it” Fernando added.
Luke tried to link the dots “That meant someone had been waiting for him in the woods; someone who knew about the codes but didn't have the combinations; a very tricky and highly intelligent person. He couldn’t access whatever it was that was inside this place with the door sealed and so had done something to force Fulton to panic and
come bounding out last night. Just what the killer or thief or both wanted. He didn't have the codes so had lain in wait for him in the woods. Fulton had appeared, entered the codes, opened the door and then was shot”
Fernando didn’t want to appear impressed “If you had run that line on camera, microphone clasped in your right hand and the body just being moved behind you, may be I would have been more impressed.”
Luke laughed “Do we have visuals of
the body?” he asked ignoring the jab.
Fernando pointed to the two DV tapes
dropped on his body.
Luke picked them up “This will do, we’ll use Chroma key” It
was a TV video trick. A blue or green cloth material would be raised behind
Luke and using the Chroma key the visuals of the woods would be fitted behind
him so that when Luke spoke on camera, it would look like he did so with the
woods in the background.
“That shortcut bites on my ethics as
a professional.” Fernando said.
“We are not breaking any professional
rules here, besides you’re not the professional, I am. I didn’t sneak out on
you. I was trying to get some sleep in my own apartment.”
“Is this what you’d have told a news
editor?”
Luke clenched a fist. “Okay I’m
sorry. Now can we cut the crap and move on.”
“Ok”
"What's the second theory?"
"Still like the first; killed after opening the door but
then was never approached which means the place had simply been empty. Fulton was sighted by a
killer waiting for him and was shot"
“For no reason?”
“Yes”
"Why?"
"Do I look like a murderer? I
don't know. People that kill claim they have a reason; they were wronged or
duped. I vote for shot then robbed"
Luke decided not to take any
side for now. “Who else was working with him?”
“You mean like a partner?”
“Yes”
“I just told you that”
Luke had clearly forgotten “Sorry,
could you remind me?”
“You are on cheap cocaine! Professor
Larry Han, and he found the body in case you’ve forgotten that too”
“Good. We need to speak with
him. He should be able to tell us more than he’s making out. This story will be
good for the show reel”
“Fulton’s partner is dead.” Fernando
announced.
“What do you mean dead?”
“Do you think that wasn’t the first
thing that crossed the mind of the police? He was supposed to return to the
station and make a statement”
“What happened?” Luke asked
“Car bomb at his home garage shortly
after leaving the scene. Police had initially quizzed but had allowed him to go
home and rest briefly as he had been in shock. He was an old man and Fulton’s very close
friend. The bomb went off after he used a remote control to open the garage
door. It was a terrible blast. It took the house, Han and the car”
“The remote triggered the bomb?” Luke
asked
“Not likely. The Bomb squad believes
the remote had nothing to do with the blast. The killer had just probably timed
it that way” Fernando opened a side pocket in his bag and brought out two
chocolate bars. He threw one to Luke.
Luke glanced at the shiny packet but
didn’t touch it. He asked instead: “Why is this killer always waiting for them
to unlock doors before striking?”
Fernando bit into the chocolate and shut his eyes dreamily
before answering “Maybe it’s his mark.” His mouth was full, so he hurriedly
swallowed before continuing “He trails his victim slowly from behind, giving
them the false illusion of escape behind the door. It's just like a cat that
allows a racing mouse to make it to the mouth of it’s hole before pouncing and
bringing death.” Luke wasn’t eating his chocolate so Fernando lunged for it. “I
have all the establishment shots of the two locations: car, home, garage....Find the rest of this eNovel on Amazon. You can download immediately on your mobile devices or PC. Check it out via this link >>> Amazon.com: OPERATION BETHANY eBook: CHARLES MGBOLU: Kindle Store
OPERATION BETHANY: The Plot
A Jewish woman who lived in the time of Christ is in grave danger!
Operation Bethany goes back in time, five days before the crucifixion where a woman had approached Jesus at a feast organised in the hillside village of Bethany and anointed him with spikenards oil in the presence of guests and his disciples.
More than two thousand years later Sergio, a scientist stumbles on ancient Egyptian myth that tells of a rare ability and power in this oil used on Jesus. Then he hears that a time machine has been built by a physicist and commits murder. He retrieves the machine and in six days, plans to time travel to the past with a killer, to this night in Bethany and hunt down this woman before she gets the chance to waste the oil on Jesus.
Then, he will murder everyone at the feast.
Only a news journalist and an escaped catholic nun race against time to avert the unthinkable eventuality. Who lives and who dies? It's both a Thriller novel and a Suspense novel
