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| The Assignment Unfolds |
Episode 7 | The Assignment Unfolds|Baylor City, Present Day
Sunlight streamed through the lace curtains of the kitchen window, catching the quiet dust motes in the air. Obadiah stood at the stove, flipping pancakes with one hand while stirring a pot of oatmeal with the other. The room smelled of cinnamon and brewed coffee. On the wall, an old clock ticked steadily, grounding the morning in its routine.
"Laric! Up!" he called up the stairs. "You're gonna miss the bus again, and I’m not driving you unless angels carry the car."
A muffled groan echoed from above. Nothing.
“Laric!” Obadiah called again as he made his way into his nephew’s bedroom. He glanced down at him. He gently shook him. “Time to get up. You’ll be late for school.”
Laric pulled the covers over his face. “Five more minutes,” he groaned.
“Nope. It’s time to get moving.” He slapped him on the feet. “Breakfast will be ready soon."
Laric sat up and wiped the sleep from his eyes. “Have you heard anything about the assignment?” he asked, stretching.
“Nothing yet,” Obadiah said.
“I dunno. Something feels... off,” Laric muttered as he got out of bed. “Like something’s about to happen.”
Obadiah paused. He felt it too — the same uneasy stillness he’d been carrying since Jerusalem. But he masked it with a wry grin. “Welcome to being sixteen. Hormones are an ancient curse.”
Laric rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Dad. Not what I’m talking about — and you know it.”
“Uncle,” Obadiah corrected automatically.
Before more could be said, a thump came from the side window. It creaked open, and a lanky figure swung in with practiced ease.
Allen Spriggs stuck his head in. He grinned, landing in the middle of the bedroom. “Good morning, people. Hope there’s extra pancakes.”
“Allen, why don’t you use the door like regular people?” Obadiah asked.
“One, I’m not like regular people.”
“True.”
“Two, coming through the window is much cooler and faster.”
“Faster?” Obadiah raised an eyebrow. “You climb the fire escape to the second floor. How is that faster than using the front door?”
Allen paused. “Okay. I don’t have an answer for that.”
“I didn’t think you did,” Obadiah said, pointing at Laric. “Come down for breakfast.”
As he turned and left, Allen whispered, “What did he say about prom?”
“I’ll tell you later,” Laric replied.
“That bad, huh? Oh, I applied for a part-time job at the museum. Best friends working together — cool, right?”
“Did you tell my uncle?”
“You think I should?”
“Definitely. Go on down. I’m hitting the shower. I’m right behind you.”
Fifteen minutes later, Laric dropped his backpack on the kitchen chair.
Obadiah placed a bowl of oatmeal with raisins in front of him. “Your favorite.”
“You’re the only person I know who can get dressed in under five minutes,” Allen said, slathering grape jelly on toast.
“It’s all in the technique,” Laric replied, grinning at his uncle.
“What about me? Don’t I get a bowl?” Allen asked.
“Didn’t you eat before you left the house?” Obadiah said, handing him a bowl anyway.
“Just a bowl of cereal,” Allen replied between mouthfuls. “It went right through me.”
“I don’t see where you put it all,” Obadiah said. “You guys finish up. I’m heading out for my walk.”
“You mean to see Dr. Gregory,” Laric teased.
Obadiah gave him a look.
___
A few minutes later, Obadiah stepped into the crisp spring air. He took a deep breath and walked down the sidewalk flanked by blooming daisies. A large oak tree separated his home from the old church next door.
The church no longer held formal services, but its doors remained open for anyone seeking prayer. Donations came often enough, though not required. God always provided. When the time was right, the right leader would come.
He glanced at the Arklow Bible Museum across the street, its silhouette mirrored in the waters of Mirror Lake. Beside it stood Serenity Forest — the same woods where he’d once saved Laric’s life.
He began his usual morning walk through town, a familiar one-and-a-half-mile loop. Baylor City had changed a lot over the past twelve years. The old bowling alley was now a supermarket. More companies moved in daily — progress, or erosion, he couldn’t tell.
“Good morning, Director!” Dave from Mufflers & Brakes called out. “Morning stroll, huh?”
“Every morning,” Obadiah replied. “How’s the family?”
“Great, thanks for asking,” Dave said, waving as he turned back into the shop.
At the next corner, he passed the farmer’s market.
“Morning, Ricky.”
“Mornin’, Director. Got those organic apples you like.”
“Good — Laric loves them. Bag a few for me?”
As Ricky prepped the order, Obadiah’s gaze drifted across the park.
There, near the stone bench beneath the sycamore tree, stood Dr. Cassandra Gregory. Her posture was tense, her shoulders slightly hunched, and she wrung her hands as if trying to hold herself together. Something was clearly wrong.
Obadiah’s steps slowed.
“Cassandra?” he called, crossing the grass toward her. “What’s wrong?”
She turned at the sound of his voice, and as he neared, the truth was plain — the forced smile, the tremble in her jaw, and the urgency in her tired, red eyes.
“I need a favor,” she said softly. “A big one.”
Obadiah nodded. “Walk with me.”
They fell into step, circling the park path.
“My brother,” she began. “Daniel. You remember, he was stationed overseas. They said he was killed in action.”
“I remember,” Obadiah said gently.
“Well... I got an email. Untraceable. And a video was attached.” She stopped walking for a beat. “Brian, he’s alive. Being held somewhere. The State Department called it propaganda. But I know it's my brother"
A chill rippled through him.
The Summons.
The soldier.
Gabriel’s voice: The assignment will find you.
“Do you have the video?” he asked.
“At home. I didn’t know who else to go to. You’ve got contacts, right? From the museum?”
Obadiah looked away for a second. “I might. Let me see what I can do.”
She stopped walking and touched his arm. “I know this is sudden, but if anyone can help... it’s you.”
He met her eyes. “Bring me the video. Tonight.”
Relief washed over her face. She hugged him. “Thank you.”
As she walked away, Obadiah stood beneath the sycamore, motionless.
Around him, the town moved — kids laughing on the playground, a dog barking in the distance, birds singing above.
But inside, the stillness broke.
The assignment had found him.
TO BE CONTINUED…
🔙 Next, in Episode 8: Zanna’s Morning
Three girls. One ride to school. And a normal morning that might not stay normal for long.
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