“I know God will not give me anything I can’t handle. I just wish that He didn’t trust me so much.” Mother Teresa MMichael Walker didn’t flinch when he realized he had been recognized. All of their efforts to conceal their faces had been focused on the 180 people behind them so they hadn’t considered the risk of being recognized by one of the people in the jet’s cockpit. Walker rose from his seat and stepped into the aisle so he could stand up without being hunched over. “Hello, Martin.” The co-pilot, Martin Lundberg, was in his mid-forties. Too many layovers far from home had added a few inches to his waistline. He had a full moon face, with a good tan, and thinning brown hair. His eyes danced over to Penelope and stayed there long enough she shift ed uncomfortably. “I heard something about you on the news. Didn’t catch all of it. Were you arrested or something?” Walker laughed. “Obviously if I had been arrested I wouldn’t be on this fl ight.” “Good point. I must have heard it wrong,” the co-pilot said with a smile as he again sized up his chances with Penelope and decided it was probably a lost cause. “Look, Mr. Walker. I really need to get back, but it was great seeing you again.” Penelope leaned and whispered, “Who is this guy?” 182 Rod Pennington & Jeffery A. Martin “For three years he was a pilot for one of my corporate jets.” “You have multiple corporate jets?” “I don’t, the corporation does.” “There’s a diff erence?” “According to the IRS, there is.” “How come we’re not on one of those?” “Because we needed you to walk through the Cincinnati and Salt Lake City airports.” “Why?” “Trust me.” Martin Lundberg had hustled to the restroom and taken care of his business so quickly Penelope was sure he hadn’t had time to wash his hands. Yuck. The sound of the landing gear lowering could be heard as Lundberg passed back through the cabin. “He’s kind of creepy.” “He was a decent enough pilot but we had to let him go.” “Why?” “We kept getting some interesting charges on his hotel bill. Plus he looked at every woman in the company the same way he was looking at you.” “Do we have a problem?” Ellison asked as he leaned over the seat. “We’ll know in a few seconds.” “What’s going on?” Penelope asked “If we suddenly go back up into the holding pattern instead of landing that means Lundberg radioed ahead that we are onboard. If we land, then we should be okay.” Timothy Ellison turned and glanced back into the coach section of the plane and pointed to the luggage rack. “What’s going on,” Penelope asked. “Plan C,” Walker answered with quick laugh. Looking around to be sure no one was watching, he asked, “May I have your wallet and passport, please?” She handed them over without question. Walker removed all of the cash and handed it to Ellison. “Give her the other set.” Ellison handed Penelope another complete identifi cation package Penelope looked at the Ohio driver’s license. “At least I’m not a blonde anymore.” The wheels of the jet touched the tarmac and the plane began to slow down. The minutes seemed like hours as the plane taxied toward the terminal. 183 The Fourth Awakening Not waiting for the seatbelt light to go off and with their seats in the tiny first class section close to the exit, Walker and Timothy were able to position Penelope so she would be the first one off . “If we get separated, someone will find you and take you to the compound,” Walker whispered in her ear. “Walk straight out into the terminal and do not look back for any reason.” She nodded that she understood. Her eyes focused on the door, which seemed like it was never going to open. With a faint whoosh, one of the Flight Attendants released the handle and the door swung open. A commotion broke out to Penelope’s left as she heard an angry voice shout, “Hey! That’s my laptop.” Before she could turn to see what was causing the uproar, she felt Walker’s hand gently shoving her out toward the terminal. “Don’t look back,” he whispered. Suddenly Walker was at her side with his arm hooked under Penelope’s encouraging her to pick up the pace. They walked briskly through the terminal until they were well away from the gate but could still see Ellison standing near the door at the top of the tunnel. Back on the plane one of the passengers was apologizing profusely to the air marshal and the passenger he had accused of attempting to steal his computer. It seemed they had nearly identical laptop cases and they were both in the same overhead bin. The people began slowly fi ling off the airplane when the co-pilot Martin Lundberg joined the fl ight attendants and the air marshal who were chuckling in the galley near the exit. “I thought that guy was going to clock the other guy,” the marshal said with a laugh. “This has been a strange one,” Lundberg said as he interjected himself into the conversation. “First I see Michael Walker on the plane and…” “Michael Walker!?” The marshal shouted. “Are you sure?” “Of course I’m sure,” he smiled and winked at one of the fl ight attendants who rolled her eyes. “I was his personal pilot for 3 years and….” “You idiot.” Anger flashed in the air marshal’s eyes as he turned his full attention to the co-pilot. “Who else was with him?” “He was sitting with a good looking blonde and the guy behind them may have been with them.” The Air Marshal reached for his cell phone and started trotting up the tunnel pushing the disembarking passengers aside. “This is Preston. I’ve 184 Rod Pennington & Jeffery A. Martin spotted Michael Walker; he just deplaned at Gate D-11 of the Salt Lake City International Airport.” Walker had Ellison stay back just in case someone from the plane followed them. As usual, Walker’s instincts were correct. Th e marshal burst through the doorway and scanned the terminal while still talking on his cell phone. ”The woman is wearing a dark skirt…” That was all Ellison needed to hear as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash, nearly $4,000 in fives, tens and twenties. Th e gate they deplaned from was at the end of a concourse arm with four waiting areas in close proximity to each other. Since this was a peak time of day, the terminal was packed. Even with several hundred seats in the general area, people were milling around waiting to board various fl ights. Ellison vaulted to the top of a ticket counter and grabbed the microphone out of a startled gate attendant’s hand. “Who would like some MONEY?!” He shouted into the microphone, as everyone looked up. He took about a third of the bills and tossed them as high and far as he could across an area where nearly two hundred people were waiting for a Seattle bound plane to begin boarding. As expected, a near riot started as people began diving for dollars and fighting over possession. The air marshal was swept up by the surging crowd and prevented from going any further. Ellison jumped down and snaked his way to the gate on the opposite side of the aisle. Bounding up on the now deserted counter, he grabbed the microphone and shouted, “There’s more money over here!” as he threw another handful of bills into the air. A healthy portion of the mass of people on the other side of the terminal surged across the aisle and began struggling with the people waiting to board a flight to Dallas. The airport security guards who were sprinting toward the end of Concourse D expecting to be looking for a man in a suit and a blonde woman in a dark skirt were confronted instead with a full-scale insurrection. There were now nearly 500 people pushing, shoving, and cursing. Ellison saw them coming and tossed the last of his bills in the air. Women were screaming, babies were crying. Men were exchanging punches. Ellison melted into the crowd and disappeared. Walker and Spence, standing in a West of Brooklyn gift store, watched the security guards sprint past them without a second glance. Walker 185 The Fourth Awakening grabbed a Zion National Park t-shirt off the rack and a Utah Jazz baseball cap. He quickly paid for them and handed them to Penelope. “Go into the bathroom and put these on,” he said, handing Penelope the shirt and cap. “Toss the wig in the garbage can.” Penelope, her breath coming in short gulps, nodded. Her eyes were the size of saucers and all of the color had drained from her face. If the sudden change of events frustrated Walker in any way, it certainly didn’t show. “We’ve made provisions for something like this.” His voice was soothing and his demeanor had the same serenity he had shown since the moment they had met. The man was imperturbable. “Go straight out the door of the main terminal and next to the car rental area and baggage claim you’ll find a shuttle service.” He pressed a boarding ticket into her hand. “Get on the shuttle to Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Just visualize yourself on the Jackson shuttle. Okay?” “Okay.” “Nothing but good thoughts.” “I’ll try.” “Remember to release.” “Okay.” Walker locked eyes with Penelope. “This is critical. You must convert all negative ideas and images to positive ones and try to stay released. When you feel them starting to creep back in they must be replaced with good thoughts. Remember to stay released. Don’t just release the negative thoughts, make absolutely sure that you transform them fi rst.” “Why?’ “A negative thought has just as much power as a positive one. And in the early stages of development, even more.” “Look…” &............