by Tim LaHaye
Rayford sat up. “What time is it where you are?”
“If I tell you that, anyone listening will know what time zone I’m in.”
“Donny assured us these phones were secure.”
“That was last month,” Buck said. “These phones are almost obsolete already.”
They filled in each other on the latest. “You’re right about getting Hattie away from there. After what I told you Leon said, don’t you agree she’s in danger?”
“No question,” Buck said.
“And is Tsion willing to go to Israel?”
“Willing? I have to sit on him to keep him from starting to walk there now. He’s going to be suspicious, though, if the big man wants to take credit for getting him there.”
“I don’t see how he could go otherwise, Buck. His life would be worthless.”
“He takes comfort in the prophecies that he and the rest of the 144,000 witnesses are sealed and protected, at least for now. He feels he could walk into the enemy’s lair and come out unharmed.”
“He’s the expert.”
“I want to go with him. Being in the same country as the two witnesses at the Wailing Wall would make this soul harvest he’s been predicting just explode.”
“Buck, have you checked in with headquarters? All I hear from the top is that you’re on dangerous ground. You have no secrets anymore.”
“Funny you should ask. I just transmitted a long message to the big boss.”
“Is it going to do you any good?”
“You seem to have survived by being straightforward, Rayford. I’m doing the same. I told them I’ve been too busy rescuing friends and burying others to worry about my publication. Besides, 90 percent of the staff is gone and virtually all the production capabilities. I’m proposing continuing the magazine online until Carpathia decides whether to rebuild printing plants and all that.”
“Ingenious.”
“Yeah, well, the fact is there might be two simultaneous magazines coming out on the Internet at the same time, if you know what I mean.”
“There are already dozens.”
“I mean there might be two coming out simultaneously, edited by the same guy.”
“But only one of them financed and sanctioned by the king of the world?”
“Right. The other wouldn’t be funded at all. It would tell the truth. And no one would know where it’s coming from.”
“I like your mind, Buck. I’m glad you’re part of my family.”
“It hasn’t been dull, I can say that.”
“So what should I tell Leon I’ll do about Hattie and Tsion?”
“Tell him you’ll get the message to the lady. As for Tsion, negotiate whatever you want and we’ll get him to Israel inside a month.”
“You think there’s that kind of patience in the East?”
“It’s important to stretch it out. Make it a huge event. Keep control of the timing. That’ll drive Tsion crazy too, but it will give us time to rally everyone on the Internet so they can show up.”
“Like I said, I like your mind. You ought to be a magazine publisher.”
“Before long we’ll all be just fugitives.”
Buck was right. In the morning Chloe recalled nothing from the night before. “I woke up toasty and knew somebody had brought me a blanket,” she said. “It doesn’t surprise me it was one of the guys upstairs.”
She grabbed her phone and used a cane to get to the table. She punched the buttons with her bloated right hand. “I’m going to call her right now,” she said. “I’m going to tell her I can’t wait to have some female companionship around here.”
Chloe sat with the phone to her ear for several moments.
“No answer?” Buck said. “You’d better hang up, hon. If she’s where she can’t talk, she probably turned it off at the first ring. You can try her later, but don’t jeopardize her.”
A chortle came from Tsion upstairs. “You two are not going to believe this!” he hollered, and Buck heard his footsteps overhead. Chloe closed her phone and looked up expectantly.
“He’s so easily entertained,” she said. “What a joy! I learn something from him every day.”
Buck nodded, and Tsion emerged from the stairs. He sat at the table, eagerness on his face. “I am reading through some of the thousands of messages left for me on the bulletin board. I do not know how many I miss for every few I read. I am guessing I have seen only about ten percent of the total, because the total keeps growing. I feel bad I cannot answer them individually, but you see the impossibility. Anyway, I got an anonymous message this morning from ‘One Who Knows.’ Of course, I cannot be sure he actually is one who knows, but he may be. Who can know? It is an interesting conundrum, is it not? Anonymous correspondence could be phony. Someone could claim to be me and engage in false teaching. I must come up with something that proves my authenticity, no?”
“Tsion!” Chloe said. “What did One Who Knows write that amused you so?”
“Oh, yes. That is why I came down here, right? Forgive me. I printed it out.” He looked at the table, then patted his shirt pocket. “Oh,” he said, checking his pants pockets. “It is still in my printer. Do not go away.”
“Tsion?” Chloe called after him. “I just wanted to tell you I’ll be here when you get back.”
He looked puzzled. “Oh, well, yes. Of course.”
“He’s going to be thrilled he’s going home,” Buck said.
“And you’re going with him?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Buck said. “Big story.”
“I’m going with you.”
“Oh, no you’re not!” Buck said, but Tsion was back.
He spread the sheet on the table and read, “ ‘Rabbi, it is only fair to tell you that one person who has been assigned to carefully monitor all your transmissions is the top military adviser for the Global Community. That may not mean much to you, but he is particularly interested in your interpretation of the prophecies about things falling to the earth and causing great damage in the upcoming months. The fact that you take these prophecies literally has him working on nuclear defenses against such catastrophes. Signed, One Who Knows.’ ”
Tsion looked up, bright-eyed. “It is so funny because it must be true! Carpathia, who continually tries to explain as natural phenomenon anything that supports biblical prophecy, has his senior military adviser planning to, what? Shoot a burning mountain from the sky? This is like a gnat shaking his tiny fist in the elephant’s eye. Anyway, is this not a private admission on his part that there may be something to these prophecies?”
Buck wondered if One Who Knows was Rayford’s and Mac’s new brother inside GC headquarters. “Intriguing,” Buck said. “Now are you ready for some good news?”
Tsion put a hand on Chloe’s shoulder. “The daily improvement in this precious little one is good news enough for me. Unless you are talking about Israel.”
Chloe said, “I’ll forgive that condescending remark, Tsion, because I’m sure no insult was intended.”
Tsion looked puzzled.
“Forgive her,” Buck said. “She’s going through a twenty-two-year-old’s bout with political correctness.”
Chloe leveled her eyes at Buck. “Excuse me for saying this in front of Tsion, Cameron, but that truly offended me.”
“OK,” Buck said quickly, “guilty. I’m sorry. But I’m about to tell Tsion he’s going to get his wish—”
“Yes!” Tsion exulted.
“And, Chloe, I don’t have the energy to fight over whether you’re going.”
“Then let’s not fight. I’m going.”
“Oh, no!” Tsion said. “You must not! You are not nearly up to it.”
“Tsion! It’s not for another month. By then I’ll—”
“Another month?” Tsion said. “Why so long? I am ready now. I must go soon. The people are clamoring for it, and I believe God wants me there.”
“We’re concerned about security, Tsion,” Buck said. “A month will
also allow us to get as many of the witnesses there as possible from around the world.”
“But a month!”
“Works for me,” Chloe said. “I’ll be walking on my own by then.”
Buck shook his head.
Tsion was already in his own world. “You do not need to worry about security, Cameron. God will protect me. He will protect the witnesses. I do not know about other believers. I know they are sealed, but I do not know yet if they are also supernaturally protected during this time of harvest.”
“If God can protect you,” Chloe said, “he can protect me.”
Buck said, “Chloe, you know I have your best interest at heart. I’d love for you to go. I never miss you more than when I’m away from you in Jerusalem.”
“Then tell me why I can’t go.”
“I would never forgive myself if something happened to you. I can’t risk it.”
“I’m just as vulnerable here, Buck. Every day is a risk. Why are we allowed to risk your life and not mine?”
Buck had no answer. He scrambled for one. “Hattie will be that much closer to her delivery date. She’ll need you. And what about our child?”
“I won’t even be showing by then, Buck. I’ll be three months along. You’re going to need me. Who’s going to handle logistics? I’ll be communicating with thousands of people on the Internet, arranging these meetings. It only makes sense that I show up.”
“You haven’t answered the Hattie question.”
“Hattie’s more independent than I am. She would want me to go. She can take care of herself.”
Buck was losing, and he knew it. He looked away, unwilling to give in so soon. Yes, he was being protective. “It’s just that I so recently nearly lost you.”
“Listen to yourself, Buck. I knew enough to get out of that house before it crushed me. You can’t blame that flying roof on me.”
“We’ll see how healthy you are in a few weeks.”
“I’ll start packing.”
“Don’t jump to conclusions.”
“Don’t parent me, Buck. Seriously, I don’t have a problem submitting to you because I know how much you love me. I’m willing to obey you even when you’re wrong. But don’t be unreasonable. And don’t be wrong if you don’t have to be. You know I’m going to do what you say, and I’ll even get over it if you make me miss out on one of the greatest events in history. But don’t do it out of some old-fashioned, macho sense of protecting the little woman. I’ll take this pity and help for just so long, and then I want back in the game full-time. I thought that was one of the things you liked about me.”
It was. Pride kept him from agreeing right then. He’d give it a day or two and then tell her he’d come to a decision. Her eyes were boring into his. It was clear she was eager to win this one. He tried to stare her down and lost. He glanced at Tsion.
“Listen to her,” Tsion said.
“You keep out of it,” Buck said, smiling. “I don’t need to be ganged up on. I thought you were on my side. I thought you would agree that this was no place for—”
“For what?” Chloe said. “A girl? The ‘little woman’? An injured, pregnant woman? Am I still a member of the Tribulation Force, or have I been demoted to mascot now?”
Buck had interviewed heads of state easier than this.
“You can’t defend this one, Buck,” she added.
“You want to just pin me while I’m down,” Buck said.
“I won’t say another word,” she said.
Buck chuckled. “That’ll be the day.”
“If you two chauvinists will excuse me, I want to try Hattie again. We’re going to have a telephone meeting of the weak sister club.”
Buck flinched. “Hey! You weren’t going to say another word.”
“Well then get out of here so you don’t have to listen.”
“I need to call Ritz anyway. When you reach Hattie, be sure and find out what name she was admitted under there.”
Buck went to follow Tsion up the stairs, but Chloe called out to him.
“C’mere a minute, big guy.” He turned to face her. She beckoned him closer. “C’mon,” she said. She lifted her arm, the one with the cast from shoulder to wrist, and hooked him with it behind the neck. She pulled his face to hers and kissed him long and hard. He pulled back and smiled shyly. “You’re so easy,” she whispered.
“Who loves ya, baby?” he said, heading for the stairs again.
“Hey,” she said, “if you see my husband up there, tell him I’m tired of sleeping alone.”
Rayford listened through the bugging device as Peter Mathews and Leon Fortunato spent the last hour and a half of the flight arguing over protocol for their arrival in Dallas. Mathews, of course, prevailed on nearly every point.
The regional ambassador, the former U.S. senator from Texas, had arranged for limousines, a red carpet, an official welcome and greeting, and even a marching band. Fortunato spent half an hour on the phone with the ambassador’s people, slowly reading the official announcement and presentation of honored guests that was to be read as he and Mathews disembarked. Though Rayford could hear only Fortunato’s end of the conversation, it was clear the ambassador’s people were barely tolerating this presumption.
After Fortunato and Mathews had showered and changed for the occasion, Leon buzzed the cockpit.
“I would like you gentlemen to assist the ground crew with the exit stairs as soon as we have come to a stop.”
“Before postflight checks?” Mac said, giving Rayford a look as if this was one of the dumbest things he had ever heard. Rayford shrugged.
“Yes, before postflight checks,” Fortunato said. “Be sure everything is in order, tell the cabin crew to wait until after the welcoming ceremony to deplane, and you two should be last off.”
Mac switched off the intercom. “If we’re putting off postflight checks, we’ll be the last off all right. Wouldn’t you think priority would be making sure this rig is airworthy for the return trip?”
“He figures we’ve got thirty-six hours, we can do it anytime.”
“I was trained to check the important stuff while it’s hot.”
“Me too,” Rayford said. “But we’ll do what we’re told when we’re told, and you know why?”
“Tell me, O Supreme Excellent Pilot.”
“Because the red carpet ain’t for us.”
“Doesn’t that just break your heart?” Mac said.
Rayford updated ground control as Mac followed the signalman’s directions to the tarmac and a small grandstand area where the public, the band, and dignitaries waited. Rayford peered out at the ragtag musicians. “Wonder where they got this bunch?” he said. “And how many they had with them before the quake.”
The signalman directed Mac to the edge of the carpet and crossed his coned flashlights to signify a slow stop. “Watch this,” Mac said.
“Careful, you rascal,” Rayford said.
At the last instant, Mac rolled over the end of the red carpet.
“Did I do that?” he asked.
“You’re bad.”
Once the stairs were in place, the band was finished, and the dignitaries were situated, the Global Community ambassador stepped to the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced with great solemnity, “representing His Excellency, Global Community Potentate Nicolae Carpathia, Supreme Commander Leonardo Fortunato!”
The crowd broke into cheering and applause as Leon waved and made his way down the steps.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the personal attendants from the office of the Supreme Pontiff of Enigma Babylon One World Faith!”
The reaction was subdued as the crowd seemed to wonder if these two young people had names, and if so, why they were not mentioned.
After a pause long enough to make people wonder if anyone else was aboard, Mathews stepped near the door but stayed out of sight. Rayford stood by the cockpit, waiting to start the postflight check when the folderol was over. “I’m waiting,” Mathews s
ing-songed to himself. “I’m not stepping out until I’m announced.”
Rayford was tempted to poke his head out and say, “Announce Pete!” He restrained himself. Finally Fortunato trotted back up the steps. He didn’t come far enough to see Mathews just beyond the edge of the door. He stopped when he saw Rayford and mouthed, “Is he ready?” Rayford nodded. Leon skipped back down the steps and whispered to the ambassador.
“Ladies and gentlemen, from Enigma Babylon One World Faith, Pontifex Maximus Peter the Second!”
The band struck up, the crowd erupted, and Mathews stepped to the doorway, waiting for several beats and looking humbled at the generous response. He solemnly descended, waving a blessing as he went.
As the welcoming speeches droned, Rayford grabbed his clipboard and settled into the cockpit. Mac said, “Ladies and gentlemen! First officer of the Condor 216, with a lifetime batting average of—”
Rayford smacked him on the shoulder with his clipboard. “Knock it off, you idiot.”
“How are you feeling, Ken?” Buck asked over the phone.
“I’ve been better. There are days that hospital looks pretty good. But I’m a far sight better than I was last time I saw you. I’m supposed to get the stitches out Monday.”
“I’ve got another job for you, if you’re up to it.”
“I’m always game. Where we goin’?”
“Denver.”
“Hmm. The old airport’s open there, they tell me. The new one will probably never be open again.”
“We pick up an hour going, and I told my client I’d pick her up by noon.”
“Another damsel in distress?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. You got wheels?”
“Yep.”
“I need you to pick me up on the way this time. Need to leave a vehicle here.”
“I’d like to check in on Chloe anyway,” Ken said. “How’s she doing?”
“Come see for yourself.”
“I better get goin’ if you’re gonna keep your commitment. You never schedule a lot of play time, do ya?”
“Sorry. Hey, Ken, did you check out that Web site I told you about?”
“Yeah. I’ve spent a good bit of time there.”
“Come to any conclusions?”
