4:54 p.m. Passion Ministry

Two encores later, John was back in the wings. Alone. Shivering in his sweat-soaked T-shirt, he stood. Watched the spectators.

Something, someone was not what they appeared to be. Throughout the concert, this sensation tormented him with a power so potent, so vile, that he feared for his life. And that of his son.

Almost immediately, the wrenching impression vanished. He shook his head. Just nerves. Pressed for time, he dashed down the stairs. Changed into a black robe adorned with silver arms. He hated its tacky appearance but trusted Maggie’s judgment. She said it looked great on stage.            

His devotees stood, whistling and clapping, as he reappeared. The performing was over. Now, time to connect with his message. Like his songs, his messages were simple. Memorable. Easily understood.

He raised his arms and began by quoting one of his favorite proverbs, “Seek peace and pursue it.”

“Peace be with you, Johnny!” several voices called out.

John hesitated. A movement caught his eye. He peered forward, then glanced up. His lanky protector wasn’t visible on the catwalk. John knew he could bring Oscar and his men onto the stage in an all-out assault with three simple taps on his earphones. He didn’t need that.
He looked back into the crowd, now speaking on autopilot to gain a little time. “For we all know: everything’s possible for him who believes.”

Piercing the blackness near the front row, a pair of glowing blue dots materialized.

A wave of nausea rolled through John. He drew a shaking hand across his eyes. The spots dissolved.

A shadow emerged from the orchestra pit.

John squinted.

A tall man hauled himself onto the stage. Something winked in his hand.

John stepped back. Tapped his ‘ears’.

Almost immediately, one security man leaped into the pit. Two others skipped up the side stairs.

Eyes fixed on the figure, John hesitated. Sensing pain.

Several spectators caught on. A couple yelled “Stop!” Others spilled from the aisles and jumped into the orchestra pit.