Jordan Cross was born in Cumberland county Kentucky, in a rural town of Kettle Creek. Henry "Hank" Cross was married to Jolene Cross for over fifteen years with three children, Jordan being the eldest son. Hank was an out-of-work saw mill worker with a bad temper and an even worse drinking problem, which happened to be the reason he lost his job. Jolene was a stay at home mom and a poor excuse of a housewife. She took the motto, 'spare the rod, spoil the child' to heart and took it to the extreme. In the Cross-household religion was a very serious subject and was drilled into the children morning, noon, and night. Jolene taught her children everything the bible has to offer, and what the good lord done to all the heathens.

Soon after the saw mill job, Hank turned to less than ethical line of work. He became a charlatan and a con artist; fleecing unsuspecting people out of their hard earn cash. He was damn good at his job, and after every scam he pulled he changed his MO and his outward appearance. From selling hollowed out TV's out the back of his truck to stealing wheelchairs from hospitals and pawning them off. He even minored in identity theft and credit card fraud. After five years without mishap, he decided to bring his eldest into the fold. From the ages of eight to fourteen, Hank taught his son everything he knew about being a con man. Jordan took to it, like a fish does to water. He was a natural; people were taken in by his sweet, 'boy next door' façade. Underneath it all was a ruthless, vindictive, sociopath. Not even his father suspected his sons' true nature, he just cared about the money he was raking in with his sons' help.

By the time Jordan was sixteen, he had stashed away over a hundred thousand dollars in the loose floorboards of his room. Stealing became second nature to this young man, but he found only pleasure in manipulating those around him. For him it was all about control, nothing else mattered; not his family, not the cops, not his money (though it did help get to where he wanted to be), and certainly not God that his mother spouted out about. Years later, the people he cheated could only comment that Jordan was a very charismatic person and that they felt drawn to him. He realized he could use this personality trait to further his own agendas. In fact, he was the most popular guy of his high school and had the head cheerleader as his girlfriend. Sally May Kent was the ultimate stereotype of a dumb blonde with big tits and a nice ass. Jordan used her in every way possible and she loved every minute of it.

After his seventeenth birthday, Jordan grew tired of Sally May and when he tried to cast her off, she begged him not to leave her like this, that she'd do anything for him. When he heard this sad little plea, Jordan cooked up an idea that would make him rich and help him gain power. Unbeknownst to Sally May, Jordan decided that he would sell this little bitch on the underground slave market. He'd had found out about this market through other criminal types spreading the word throughout underworld. He had to drive all the way to Memphis, Tennessee to unload his package. Sally was still clueless about what was going on, even when Jordan had brought her to a dark warehouse, where poorly dressed losers were hanging about. When the deed was done, two large men took hold of Sally and started to restrain her with nylon rope. She screamed and pleaded with Jordan and these men to leave her alone, until she finally stopped her struggling. Before he left the warehouse with his money, Jordan went over to Sally and told her what was going to happen to her. From this point on, she was a slave, to be used for the rest of her short life as a sex toy or worse.

She started to cry and wail, asking why he would do this to her, and saying people would be looking for her. Jordan laughed right in her face when she said this, and explained that no one knew where they had gone and that her parents were out of town visiting relatives somewhere and wouldn't be back for two more days. By the time they got back, all her clothes would be gone, as well as a few suit cases, and a note would be left behind stating that she had ran off to California to become an actress. The cops wouldn't suspect Jordan in a million years of any wrongdoing. The cool expression on his face terrified Sally May more so than her future of being a sex slave. This is when she broke down, sobbed incoherent babble and pissed herself before the two men dragged the broken girl off deeper into the warehouse.

Jordan later found out, that Sally May had been sold to a dominatrix club in Thailand, where she was whored out every night to men or women looking to dominate any piece of ass they could get their hands on. That was the last Jordan heard of Sally may and his plan worked out perfectly. Her parents didn't suspect him of any wrongdoing nor did the authorities. After this incident, Jordan put over five hundred thousand dollars in a bank account, the way things were going he'd be a millionaire before he turned nineteen. By the time he was eighteen, his net worth was two point five million dollars, which would have disappeared if his father found out about his sons' secret bank account. When he turned twenty he had won an academic scholarship to NYU, where by day he studied and completed a doctorate in biology and a bachelor's degree in theology. But by night he established the tri-state slave operation, abducting young women; some of who were coeds, runaways, and anyone in between. When he finished college with his degrees, he had accumulated over twenty-five million dollars from the slave trade alone. Soon thereafter, Jordan started fleecing churches throughout the greater New York/New Jersey area.

A total of five parishes went bankrupt, causing thousands of parishioners to find themselves without a house of worship. He didn't even need the money from the churches he stole from, he just did it for fun, but something else was missing from his life. He wanted power, true power. He wanted power over life and death itself. He thought about that for over two weeks, shifting from one bad idea to a slightly better idea, until he found the ideal way to accomplish his goal.

After months of planning Jordan established 'The Church of the Third Eye', and when its' doors opened for the public in March of '93, thousands of lost parishioners flocked to this new house of worship. He welcomed them in with open arms and comforted them in their time of need. All the while encouraging his 'followers' to leave their worldly processions behind and join his crusade to enlighten the world from their barbarism. The basic belief of this new religion was that humans, as a species, could evolve past their physical limitations, by focusing the mental energies of the mind throughout their entire body and achieving 'superhuman' abilities. Countless hours of meditation, low-carb high protein energy drinks designed to help excel the process. Of course almost all followed without question, just enjoying the feeling of having a purpose in life again, never realizing that everything they own went directly into his pocket. Bank accounts, 401K's, cars, houses, mortgages', land leases, all was up for grabs. Those that asked questions or were too stubborn to bend to Jordan's will, suddenly died under suspicious circumstances.

On the lands that he gained, Jordan hired contractors to build new branches of his church and other vile compounds that were only known to a handful of his most 'faithful' acolytes. The members of his church would then move into these new churches and live like a commune from the early 1960's 'Flower Children', working together to build and spread the 'word' of their new faith. Gradually as time passed 'The Church of the Third Eye' had a following of five point six million followers.

"Alright, I want an overall status report, regarding our holdings within the continental United States as well as our International holdings," stated Cross in a crisp southern accent.

All around the conference room aging businessmen and women, in high priced suits, seemed to squirm as if they found the subject matter distasteful and avoided the gaze of their employer. When he had hired these people the first thing he did was brainwash them to be totally be loyal to him at all times and they could be trusted with all of his secret information without spilling it to the proper authorities. Jordan Cross could almost taste the fear in the room, savoring its delicate aroma. He enjoyed toying with his employees like this, discovering some unpleasant situation that had developed under their very noses, completely ignorant of it until he springs his trap. It was only a tiny set back to his over all plan, nothing to get too worried about, he just loved to torment these fools while they quaked in their thousand dollar loafers. Now it was all about the 'waiting game', letting them stew in their own juices long enough for them to start sweating. Finally some needle-dicked lackey coughed into his hand and made eye contact indicating his willingness to report his findings.

"Thank you, Mister ugh..." started Cross unable to remember the mans' name.

"George Becker, sir." said the pasty-faced loser.

"Well, go on I don't have all day you know," snapped Cross. The young man jumped from the harshness in Cross' voice. Jordan guessed that the sniveling little prick was around twenty-five, fresh out of business school hoping to earn the big bucks, and too wet behind the ears to realize he just made a career ending move.

'Well maybe I'll keep him on for a awhile, and when he finally relaxes, that is when I'll can his ass' thought Cross.

Becker reached down to gather all of the papers that were in front of him, making sure everything was in order before starting. Taking a deep breath he started in a shaky voice that grew steadier the more he went on.

"Concerning our holdings in the U.S., we've had a few set backs. The attorneys representing the former owners have delayed our purchase of the refinery plant in Dell, Kansas. Their fighting with everything they have, but it's only delaying the enviable. The legal loopholes they've exploited only have a certain amount of time before they expire," Becker said with a weak smile, which he tried to turn into a slight cough. "So far we have purchased over one hundred airplanes, ranging from Boeing 747's to small jet liners. Within the next two month period, Cross international Airlines will be established."

Cross was nodding his head absently; he already knew all of this information. He was just going through the motions. Quite frankly he was getting bored fairly fast.

"Enough of that, what is the status of our 'pets' in Congress?" asked Cross.

Cross had some of the members of his church programmed through hypnosis, brainwashing, and other chemical cocktails to ensure they were loyal to him and only him, no matter what. Then placed them in low level political positions and they worked their way up the 'latter of success' to reach positions of greater influence. So far he had eight congressmen, five senators, two Supreme Court justices, and countless other assistants to the rest of the armed services. To Jordan it was child's play to infiltrate the hierarchy of the U.S. command structure.

Becker stammered for a few seconds, trying to spit out his answer.

"Pets Alpha through Gamma, report that the new narcotics bill that is to be presented to the House of Representatives in two days and that they have enough pull to shoot it down in its' infancy. Though we'll need to call in a few of our markers to make sure that it stays dead once the vote is over."

Jordan was quite pleased with the situation, that new bill would have cut his drug income in half and would have pissed off the drug cartels in Mexico and Columbia. He wasn't very concerned about the cartels too much; compared to him they were lightweights.

"Good, good, any problem on the church front?" asked Cross steely.

"Well, um there seems to be a, ah slight problem, a minor setback," Becker was unconsciously wringing his hands together until they were white with strain. "A few people have managed to infiltrate into the, ah organization so to speak, and have been reporting back to certain government agencies on our activities."

Becker stop suddenly unsure of how to proceed, Jordan remains silent watching the young man, his eyes boring right into the man face. When he spoke it was with a clam steady voice that was more frightening than any outburst of anger.

"What exactly did they manage to uncover?"

"At this point it is hard to say what exactly they uncovered, though we have our people retracing their movements over the last couple of weeks, checking where they went, who they talked to. We have the security logs so we can check the video footage of any night-time exploration done on their part."

"You barely answered my question, I won't be repeating myself again, so what did they find out?" said a stern Cross.

"From what we know, they managed to find out a few details about 'Project Leviathan', and a few more details about your human trafficking ring."

Dead silence emanated throughout the room. Even the sound of breathing seemed unnaturally loud. For five minutes everyone just sat there looking at Cross, not even moving a muscle.

"Do these traitors know that we're on to them?"

"No sir, they are unaware at this time that we know about them."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we must bring the light of god to these poor and misguided souls. We must show them the error of their ways and beg them to ask for gods' forgiveness or else we will be forced to deliver them unto his divine justice."

A chorus of amen and praise the lord reverberated throughout the room as the stood and clasped hands saying a small pray for souls of those misguided people.

"Ok, ok settle down now. Yes, yes that's it settle down. Mr. Avery?" said Cross to a very large pompous man three seat down the conference table.

"Yes Sir?"

"I want you to talk to the senior acolyte of the...Bensalem branch of our church and have his most trusted people apprehend the individuals in question. Alive if possible, dead if they resist us. Alright meeting adjourn, we meet on October the thirty-first, nine a.m. at our Manhattan office. Otherwise have a great weekend with your families."

With that everyone in the room got up to leave except Cross, who signaled Mr. Becker to stay behind. He did so reluctantly, unsure of what was going to happen. Jordan reached over to the conference phone and hit the intercom button to call his personal assistant. A few seconds later a large black man about six foot five weighing two hundred pounds at least, entered the room wearing a near black Dolce & Gabbana, a top-of-the-line pinstripe suit.

'God, he bought another one of those damn things. A homeless person could live off the money that bought that suit for six months if he didn't spend it all at once." thought Cross.

"Please close the door, Benjamin. Thank you. Now that we're alone, Mr. Becker, could you please tell me what our next course of action should be?"

This question certainly caught Becker off guard, and he rattled off for five minutes about some asinine plan about stricter recruitment procedures. All the while Jordan was walking toward the window that overlooked the Jersey City skyline. When Becker failed to turn to follow Jordan's progress, he struck without warning. Jordan was behind Becker in an instant; he reached his hand around and grabbed the man's throat. He tightened his grip until the Becker's face began to turn purple. Becker fought for all his worth, clawing at his attackers' forearm, kicking and stomping on any available target. He even tried kicking off the table to through off Jordan's leverage, but it was all for naught. Jordan just tightened his grip until he felt Becker's throat collapse and released his hold. He then grabbed the mans' hair and slammed it face down onto the conference table once, twice, and finally three times. Benjamin just stood their and admired his boss' handy work.

"Benjamin, take this piece of trash and dump it some where, but make sure it doesn't lead back to us."

"Yes, Sir Mr. Cross."

"Does he have any family?"

"As far as I know he has or had a wife, newlyweds apparently."

"Good bring her to me. I'm goin' to have some fun with Mrs. Becker, and then I think she is going to like her visit to Hong Kong. Though I think the men are going to like her even more so."

"She'll be here by eight tonight sir."

"Good, also on your way out, please call Mr. Shaw. Tell him he has a job. Several customers, that just love to serve their country."

"Yes, Sir anything else?"

"Yes, tell him to bring all of his 'tools' and a large tarp."

"Ok, I'll give him the message."

"Benjamin, these government fools will be coming out of the wood work after this, I can guarantee that they will. They won't stop until they know what we're planning. As of now nothing can stop 'Project Leviathan', not the government, not the military, hell not even god has the balls to come down here and stop it himself."

Jordan Cross walked to the window looking down on the passerby's, unaware that their world would soon be turned upside down and side-ways within the next four months. If anyone could see the look on his face, they would see the face of a madman, the reincarnation of Hitler, Mengele, Stalin, and other monsters of history. The look on Benjamin's face was the look of a man who had just witnessed god coming down from heaven and naming him his disciple.

"Yes Benjamin, they will come, they will come."