Distant Boundary: Prequel to The COIL Legacy
D.I. Telbat
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DISTANT BOUNDARY
Prequel to The COIL Legacy
D.I. Telbat
https://ditelbat.com
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Copyright 2016 ~ D.I. Telbat
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Cover Design by Streetlight Graphics
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There is no redemption without sacrifice.
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This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locals, organizations, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.
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Dedication
To those distant ones
who enter dangerous boundaries
for the sake of Jesus Christ.
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Acknowledgements
As I begin another novel series, I wish to thank
those who've been with me since the beginning
of my publishing journey.
Even a short book requires much help and effort.
Thank you, Jamie and Ed,
for your continued help with proofreading,
and Dee, for your important editing and direction.
I pray God will be glorified
with much fruit from your labor of love.
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Table of Contents
Title & Copyright
THREE for FREE EBook Bonus
FREE Map Downloads
Author Note
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Conclusion
Other Books by D.I. Telbat
About the Author
Bonus Chapter – Distant Contact
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Author Note
Dear Readers,
As the chief chronicler of the personnel who work for the Commission of International Laborers (COIL), I would be remiss if I shared with you only the adventures of Agent Corban Dowler. Agent Titus Caspertein, once an international villain, cannot be ignored by my pen, nor should his antics and heroism be overlooked by you, the reader.
If you fell in love with Corban Dowler, Luigi Putelli, and Chloe Azmaveth, don't worry. They're still in the shadows, calling the shots, rescuing the helpless, and training the next generation of COIL operatives. You'll see them often.
Though The COIL Legacy is a standalone series and may be read independently from the last, I believe fans of The COIL Series will find more fulfillment when old COIL friends of yours pop in to meet new COIL friends of mine.
This series will bring you new tech for COIL agents and more threats against God's faithful people, so get ready for another fast-paced adventure! Thanks for reading.
Don't stop serving; Christ is worth it all!
David Telbat
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Prologue
COIL Agent Corban Dowler leaned heavily on his forearm crutches. The wind on the secret Utah runway tore at his tweed blazer. The tarmac was wet and black, like an oily mirror.
The sound of an engine grew louder, but Corban didn't realize how close it was until he instinctively ducked. An unmanned aerial vehicle with a flying wing design soared into the sky, blotting out the few visible stars above. Two seconds later, the UAV was gone, leaving only a dull humming from its engine, which would separate and fall back to earth once the craft reached altitude.
A car door slammed behind him. His wife, Janice, joined him a moment later, hooking her arm through his.
"You must be proud," she said. "For two years, you've worked on those things. You think it'll change COIL much?"
"I think it'll change the way we keep our teams safe in the field from the enemies of Christ." He felt Janice tense beside him as another UAV approached for takeoff. "But it won't change the hearts of our enemies. That'll take the hand of God."
The second UAV shook the ground as it seemed to float over their heads into the wind. They turned to glimpse the shadow before it was gone, following the previous one.
"If all goes well," Corban said, "we may be the last human beings to see the Gabriels. They'll reach seventy thousand feet, recharge by the sun every day, and never return."
"It's lonely sometimes, being this secretive."
"Sometimes safety requires secrecy. And loneliness."
"Titus Caspertein really helped in the finishing touches, huh?"
"The Gabriels wouldn't be what they are now without him. I had the basic concept, but he's the one who designed the wing-mounted control surfaces and telescopic lens."
"He's only been with us for a few months, hasn't he? His wife is sweet, but Titus still seems rough around the edges. His carelessness scares me."
"I was the same way, if you remember." He chuckled as she kissed him on the cheek.
"Oh, I remember!"
A third Gabriel lined up for takeoff.
"Yeah, Titus might have some hard lessons to learn, but I believe he'll allow God to work in him, and eventually through him. I believe he will." Corban said a silent prayer as the last UAV blew over them. "COIL will be better with Titus Caspertein. And stronger. With his past, and my resources—God brought us together to do what no one man could accomplish for the sake of Jesus Christ."
Janice stared at the sky.
"Well, that's all three of them. When will you tell Titus you used his ideas and covertly launched the Gabriels without him?"
"He'll find out soon enough. In the Christian Special Operations field, a crisis is always around the corner. Those angels will be watching over Titus when he needs them."
"Maybe he'll need them in Africa. Didn't you just send him and Annette to Zimbabwe?"
"Yep. It's just a humanitarian mission, but God has a way of breaking us using simple things. We'll keep them in prayer, along with the others. But the Lord will bring them through."
"Don't we have a plane of our own to catch?"
"Our vacation is over already?"
"We're in the Utah desert." She laughed and pulled him toward the rental car. "You don't know the definition of vacation, Corban Dowler. That's one of the reasons I love you. You never stop serving."
"I don't know how to stop." He sat in the passenger seat, collapsed his leg braces behind the knees, and pulled them into the car. Janice started the engine and Corban took one last look at the sky. "Watch over him, Lord. Do what You need to do, but bring him home to us all. When You say he's ready, the rest of the world needs Titus Caspertein."
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Ian Likasi walked in front of the wildlife reserve rangers. Twenty new recruits had passed the rigorous training, replacing the twenty he'd lost from injuries or murder in the past year. Rhino poachers in Zimbabwe didn't only shoot rhinos a
nymore. Whenever possible, they ambushed his rangers, too.
"Medical kit!" he shouted.
Every man dropped to his knees and swung his camo pack off his back. In seconds, the rangers displayed their first aid gear. Not one ranger had forgotten his kit. Besides their canteens and assault shotguns, their medical equipment was the most important piece of gear inside or outside the game reserve.
Gezahgne Wolde was to blame. The soldier-turned-poacher was more than a nuisance; he was an expert killer! Ian recruited rangers from the nearby Chriedzi District, where men were weary of working in the diamond fields. Feeding their families seemed more difficult each year. But Geza killed rangers as fast as Ian could recruit and train them. Geza cared only for his rhino horns.
"Pack it up and see to your assignments!"
Ian crossed his arms and stood proudly over his men as they obeyed. They were hungry for justice, but that didn't make them mean. Most of them were family men. They had taken the risky job to protect their brothers first, and second, to guard the endangered wildlife. They stood between armed madmen and Africa's majestic creatures.
Long ago, Ian had cared for the animals like these men. But now, the lives lost to poacher bullets had embittered him. He still believed in being a responsible hunter and steward of God's creation, but it was Geza who haunted Ian's days and nights.
Someday, Ian would bring Gezahgne Wolde to justice for the ranger blood he'd shed!
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Chapter One
Titus Caspertein was in a sour mood. He yanked on his safety harness as he pushed a netted bundle out of the back of the C-130 cargo plane. The humanitarian aid package tumbled in the sky until its chute opened and floated toward famine-stricken Zimbabwe.
Returning to the front of the cargo bay, Titus kicked at the strap locks that held the last bundle in place. Of all the skills he had for subverting evil regimes and smuggling contraband behind closed borders, the director of the Commission of International Laborers, Corban Dowler, had deployed him on a week-long airdrop operation. What a waste! And it was just day three? He'd never been so restless.
"One more!" Titus yelled at Noah Gallavan, the pilot of the vibrating plane. He made a circling gesture with his hand to signal one more pass over the Chiredzi District of Southern Zimbabwe. "Circle around, Noah!"
"Where's Meikles?" Noah shouted over the rattle of the fuselage.
Titus pointed at the four-year-old Zimbabwean boy seated against the bay wall. Satisfied, Noah gave Titus a thumbs-up, then put the plane into a steep bank.
Shaking his head, Titus wished Corban were there in the plane with him. The director of COIL simply wasn't appreciating Titus' qualifications. Sure, Titus and his wife, Annette, had been with the Christian aid organization for only three months now, but still—airdrops?
Pushing with his two-hundred-pound frame, Titus edged the next bundle to the rear bay door. The wind tore at his tan cargo pants and whipped his safety line against his t-shirt. The noise was almost deafening.
It was mundane work anyone in COIL could've done, he thought, scowling. He hoped Annette was enjoying herself more than he was. She was in Zimbabwe as well, but in the capital of Harare, seeing to orphaned children and refugees from various conflicts on the continent. Since it was evening, Titus guessed she was already back at their hotel north of the city, York Lodge. Grilled fish was on the menu for dinner, with Egyptian cumin and perfectly ground Baharat. He could taste it already.
The light on the bay wall turned from red to green. They were over the drop zone. Titus rocked the heavy bundle to get it moving off the cargo ramp. In sixty seconds, they'd be on their way north, anticipating the sights of the capital city of a country in recovery from civil strife and racial conflict. Harare was safe from Mugabe influence nowadays. Only certain rural districts still felt the challenges of old grudges and militant corruption.
Of course, everyone felt the effects of the drought, except the room in which Titus planned to sleep for two hundred dollars a night. Why not enjoy Africa in style if he had to slave in a plane all afternoon?
With a final shove, the bundle fell free from the ramp. At the same instant, there was a sound above the noise, as if from a cat. "Eee!" Titus glanced at the front of the cargo bay bulkhead. The boy was no longer there. He didn’t know how, but the boy had gone over with the bundle!
The last bundle wobbled from its parachute far below as Titus unclipped his safety harness and plunged out the bay door.
However, as he skydived through the air, his mind registered two terrible truths at the same time: first, Meikles' tiny body flailed hundreds of feet below him, and second, in his disgust for such a prosaic job, Titus had neglected to wear the parachute Noah had offered him.
Titus held his arms at his sides as he dove for Meikles. His eyes watered, partly from the wind and partly because he was seconds away from death.
He caught up to Meikles and spread his arms and legs to decrease his descent, but the meeting of boy and man was still a collision.
"I've got you!" Titus attempted to comfort, but the wind stole his voice. His fingers grabbed onto the boy's whipping shorts and t-shirt, and drew him close.
The ground rushed up at them. Titus prayed Meikles lived through the fall, by some miracle, wrapped securely inside the limbs of a grown man. The two turned and tumbled the last few thousand feet. In his arms, the boy looked up at Titus. Was that relief on his face? Titus hoped it was.
He'd done more heroic things for less dangerous reasons. The African land below wasn't strange to him. For years, he'd trafficked stolen items on the black market, oftentimes in the bush when cities were too policed.
He didn't regret dying for the boy, but he did regret having such selfish thoughts that day. Now he was about to meet his Maker. Since he believed Christ had died for his sins, Titus was confident in what he would face in eternity, but that didn't mean there weren't things he'd meant to do, yet had postponed for temporal reasons. Life had been so short!
Titus chanced a look up—or down—at the ground. Green trees . . . rolling hills . . . brown grass . . . red and tan sand . . . earth . . .
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Chapter Two
Gezahgne Wolde sighted down his rifle at a crowd of Zimbabwean women and children as they sang and danced. He didn't hate them, but that wouldn't stop him from shooting them if he had cause. No, he hated the foreigners who fed them. These were his people. They were supposed to rely on him, not on the rich, white foreigners from America and Europe.
"Geza, look!" One of his soldiers pointed at the sky behind the cargo plane. "The parachute didn't open!"
Smirking, Geza watched as a small package fell to the earth. Stupid foreigners couldn't even supply the starving people properly. If it was rice, it would explode on impact with the earth. None of the people ran toward the package that didn't have a parachute. It would land many miles away and probably be eaten by wild dogs, which would attract the hyenas. There would be birds and warthogs, too.
"Geza, you want us to search these people?" Another soldier adjusted his booni hat as he sat in the Toyota Land Cruiser next to Geza's own. The wovits, or shock troops, had acquisitioned a whole fleet of the vehicles, useful for the rough travel across the savanna. "They're returning to their villages."
"Let them go." Geza didn't even lift a hand to punctuate his order; it was too hot to move. "We don't need their food. It's the tech in the packages we want. No, let them go for now. We'll search their homes later."
In the heart of Masvingo Province, Geza's army was two hundred strong, but he had only eight men with him that afternoon. The airdrop had been a pleasant surprise after the fruitless hunt into the bush for rhinos. Rhino horns were sold for many thousands of dollars each, but radios, solar panels, and water filters could be sold at exorbitant prices as well—if any tech had been included in the airdrop.
"Send fifty men into the camps after dark," Geza said to the nearest lieutenant, a veteran of one hundred farm raids. "Take all the tech
you can find, but leave them the food. They'll thank us for that. Arrest anyone who resists."
"Arrest? We don't arrest people, do we?"
"Of course not, you fool! Just don't leave the bodies where they'll be found before the lions get to them." Geza started his Land Cruiser. He preferred to drive himself. His men piled into the back. "We'll leave early again for rhinos. We have a contract to fulfill."
None of his men protested. The bandit life on the savanna wasn't too demanding. A few hunts each month kept them sharp between raids on white-owned farms. How else was he to keep the wovits paid and satisfied except from the spoils of a war long ended? The victors had the right to continue to pillage. At least, that was how Geza interpreted the Indigenization and Empowerment Law.
Geza appreciated the role he played in his country's recent changes: wealth changed from the hands of minority farmers to his hands. And no one in the country had the nerve to stop him. Well, there were the rangers, and the government backed them fully, but Geza was too slippery for them!
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Chapter Three
Annette Caspertein watched the C-130 land on the airstrip outside Harare, Zimbabwe. She was no aviator, but at least one of the engines on the giant plane didn't sound right. A little smoke trailed one wing. It seemed a miracle of God that the plane had returned at all!
She and Titus had been married for three months. Corban Dowler, still recovering from a near-fatal mission in Gaza, had wasted no time in sending the new couple into the field. Titus hadn't anticipated a humanitarian operation, not with his high-octane past, but Annette loved her first assignment as a COIL field agent.
For years, Annette had traveled the world as a clothing model, receiving attention, and caring for others only as far as it assured her of getting her name in a magazine. But when she was kidnapped in Gaza, and rescued by Titus and Corban—that had changed her life. She no longer had a desire to be noticed. Now, she sincerely wanted to notice others.
The Zimbabwe drought had provided an opportunity to reach the hurting with food, Christian literature, and love. Most of the people spoke English, so Annette didn't need an interpreter as she mingled with the people in various villages. She had been accompanied by Kitwe, a tiny woman nearing sixty, who was the wife of pilot and Pastor Noah Gallavan. The two had been childless for their forty years of marriage—until two years earlier. Noah had taken in an abandoned child at Meikles, the most luxurious hotel in Harare. Naturally, Noah had named the child Meikles after the hotel.
