by Tim LaHaye
“Are you aware of my sister’s idea of my cutting in on Carpathia’s broadcast and superseding it with Dr. Ben-Judah’s?”
“Chloe told me. Can you do it for Chaim as well?”
“With your help.”
“What do you need?”
“A camera and a microphone.”
“Where do I get that?”
“You’re there, Mr. Williams. I’m not. Obviously, Carpathia will have cameras in the temple and wants the world to see what he does there. My schedule says he’s going to speak afterward, but I can’t tell if that’s inside or outside. If you can somehow commandeer a camera and mike while he’s inside, I can put Rosenzweig on instead of Carpathia, and he won’t know it until someone gets to him.”
“I like that.”
“I do too,” Chang said, “but if he makes his speech outside, he’ll see what we’re doing.”
“We’ve got to take that chance. And here he comes now. Chaim thinks he will speak outside on a replica of Solomon’s scaffold. He’s got an entourage of civilians around him carrying an extravagant throne, and some are dragging that pig from yesterday. Carpathia just told ’em, ‘You will all be rewarded. Soon the world will know beyond doubt that I am god.’ ”
“No GC brass with him?”
“Yeah, I see Fortunato and Moon and a few others, but they look terrible. They’re not going to be much help to him.”
“There have to be unmanned GCNN cameras around, with all the technicians down with sores.”
“I see a few on tripods, aimed at the temple.”
“Can you grab one?”
“Who’s going to stop me?”
“Go for it. I just need to know the number on the upper left in the back, and be sure a monitor and a mike are attached.”
“Hang on.”
Buck hesitated as Carpathia stopped near them, Fortunato, Moon, Ivins, and others mince-stepping behind, pale and haggard. The holy men turned and glared at them. Nicolae pointed at Chaim. “You I will deal with later,” he said. “This spell of yours is temporary, and what happened to your two crazies at the Wailing Wall will befall you as well. And as for you,” he added, gesturing to the angry men, “you will regret the day Israel turned her back on me. A covenant of peace is only as good as either side’s keeping its word.”
“Boo!” one shouted, and others hissed and -clucked their tongues. “You would dare blaspheme our God?” Still more joined in, raising their fists.
Carpathia turned toward the temple, then spun back. “Your God?” he said. “Where is he? Inside? Shall I go and see? If he is in there and does not welcome me, should I tremble? Might he strike me dead?”
“I pray he does!” a rabbi shouted.
Carpathia leveled his eyes at the men. “You will regret the day you opposed me. It shall not be long before you either submit to my mark or succumb to my blade.”
He strode up the temple steps, but his suffering followers had to help each other ascend. The holy men followed several feet behind. When Carpathia and his people followed a contingent of his loyal civilians past the pillars and into the porch area, the men stood outside, rocking, bowing, crying out to God.
Buck jogged to an unmanned camera and mike, his phone to his ear. A small monitor and headphones dangled beneath the camera, fastened between two of the tripod legs. The monitor carried the network’s global feed and just then showed Carpathia entering the temple. The camera operator must have been newly recruited, because he fumbled for the correct lens opening.
“Got it,” Buck told Chang and read him the information.
“Good! Wireless. Get it as close to Rosenzweig as you can, and set the mike in the cradle beneath the lens.”
Buck tried to wrestle the tripod, but the wheels were locked, and working with just one hand, he barely kept it from toppling. He told Chang he’d call him back and went to work on the wheels.
Meanwhile, Chaim unloaded on Carpathia again. “If you are God,” he railed, “why can you not heal your own Most High Reverend Father or the woman closer to you than a relative? Where are all your military leaders and the other members of your cabinet?”
The attention of the crowds moved from Chaim to the temple entrance again. His ploy had worked. Carpathia had reappeared. Many of the holy men rushed down the steps, effectively blocking Nicolae’s view of the camera now in front of Chaim, but Buck feared it appeared they were scared of the potentate.
“Where are your loyal followers,” Chaim continued, “those who have taken your cursed mark and worshiped you and your image? A body covered with boils is the price one pays to worship you, and you claim to be God?”
To Buck it appeared Nicolae was merely trying to stare down the old man. The Rosenzweig Buck knew would not have been able to withstand that kind of psychological warfare, but Micah—this new Moses—held Carpathia’s gaze so long without even blinking that Nicolae finally turned away.
Buck studied the monitor. It looked like the last exchange had not been broadcast. The picture now showed someone in the studio in New Babylon announcing that GCNN was “returning to Jerusalem, where His Excellency will tour the famous temple. With the illness affecting much of our staff as it has so many around the world, we ask your indulgence, as many of the technicians helping bring you this special event are volunteers.”
David worried when it took several rounds from the big guns and strategic use of the DEWs to finally dislodge from Petra the already boil-crippled GC forces. He was certain he had not been detected, and now he hoped the enemy’s military brass would rule out reinforcements.
Rayford told him that he and Albie and Mac were okay except for sore shoulders and ringing ears, and that George and Abdullah had reported a few more hits with the flesh-heating weapons as the fleeing GC passed within a quarter mile of their blind. “I wouldn’t be surprised,” Rayford added, “if you started getting a wave of new residents by late this afternoon.”
That was as close as David had ever been to live combat, but it had almost not seemed fair. He couldn’t imagine trying to stage an attack while most of your personnel were suffering from nasty sores.
Not knowing whether Chaim would lead or follow the escaping Israelis to Petra, David considered that he might be in charge until Dr. Rosenzweig arrived. He could think of no better plan than first come, first served, and he tried to scope out where the first quarter million would begin to settle. By the time he got back to his computer to see what was happening at the temple, a message was waiting from Hannah Palemoon.
David, there is a lull here, and of course we never know how long those last. We’re praying that the small party that answered your call to thwart the GC there comes back healthy and successful.
This is not easy to write, but I feel I must get it off my chest. Besides that you are still grieving the love of your life, neither of us would likely have considered a relationship during this period of history anyway, and we barely know each other. So, please, please don’t think I’m writing this in the context of any feelings I think either of us should have for the other.
We’re friends, aren’t we? That doesn’t obligate us much, if at all. For both of our sakes, let me just say it. I was hurt at how cavalierly you treated me regarding your decision to not return to the United North American States at the end of Operation Eagle. It was a huge, complicated thing, a major crossroads in your life. I need to say too that it probably is the right decision.
But I learned about it along with everyone else. You apparently discussed it at length with Captain Steele, and next thing we know, it’s announced, you’re shaking hands and bidding farewells, and off you go. My friend, my buddy, the one I assumed I would lean on, is gone, just like that.
I’m sorry to lay this on you, but I just don’t feel you have treated me like a friend. I would have felt honored to help you make the decision or at least have been informed of it privately, as if you cared what I thought. I could be making you glad you didn’t see this neurotic nurse as a better friend.
If this is crazy and you know without doubt that I will regret having sent it, pretend I didn’t. And thanks, really, for some cherished memories.
Love in Christ,
Hannah
CHAPTER 9
Buck focused on Chaim, framing him close to keep from giving clues to his whereabouts to anyone monitoring in New Babylon. If this worked the way Chang seemed to hope, the Global Community News Network people would try to pull Chaim off the air and, short of that, try to locate and reclaim the pirated camera.
Buck turned the monitor so both he and Chaim could keep track of Carpathia and also be able to tell when Chang switched to them. When GCNN moved to the camera inside the temple, they found a commotion. Nicolae barked at the volunteer cameraman’s volunteer assistant, and the picture wobbled. Buck jammed on the headphones and heard the assistant. “I’m sorry, Excellency, but I don’t want to do that.”
“You would disobey me?” Nicolae whispered.
“I want to obey, sir, but—”
“Sir?!”
“Holiness! But I’m not supposed to even be in here, and they aren’t going to listen to me.”
“You are speaking for me, and if they are not out of here by the time I get to their stations, their blood will be used for the sacrifices.”
“Oh, sir—Potentate!”
“Now, or you face the same fate.”
GCNN in New Babylon broke in. “His Excellency’s entourage has passed through the Court of Women, where Ms. Viv Ivins will wait. The rest have entered the Court of Men and apparently have come upon priests refusing to leave the temple for Potentate Carpathia’s private tour, as was clearly stipulated.
“From the time he negotiated with the Muslims to move the Dome of the Rock mosque to New Babylon, the potentate made it clear that all activity in the rebuilt Jewish temple would be allowed only with his approval. It is no secret that Orthodox Jews have continued with the daily rituals and sacrifices of their own faith even after Enigma Babylon One World Faith was instituted as the only legal international religion, designed to incorporate the tenets of all faiths. After His Excellency resurrected himself from the dead, he became our object of worship, resulting in the dissolution of One World Faith and the establishing of Carpathianism. Still, the Jews and a faction of fundamentalist Christians known as Judah-ites—after their leader, self-proclaimed Messianic Jew, Dr. Tsion Ben-Judah—remain the last holdouts against our true and living god.
“His Excellency will eventually enter the Holy of Holies, but first he is insisting on the removal of the dissidents. Let’s go back.”
“Anyone not here in honor to me may be shot dead,” Carpathia said. “Are you armed and prepared?”
“No!” the assistant cried.
“I am armed,” Walter Moon said.
“You,” Nicolae said, pointing to the assistant, “take Mr. Moon’s weapon and do your duty.”
Buck was riveted to the monitor as Nicolae stared not into the lens but past it to the volunteer. The camera turned jerkily to show the man refusing the gun. There was a rustle, a shot, a cry—and the man fell. The camera turned back to show Carpathia himself with the gun. “Show him,” Nicolae said, and again the camera moved toward the body on the floor.
A change in ambient noise in Buck’s headphones preceded Chang’s voice. “Here we go,” he said.
Chaim stepped back into position, and the red light shone on Buck’s camera.
“Not only does the evil ruler of this world want to rid the priests of their rightful place in their own temple,” Chaim said, “but it also appears he has personally committed murder at this holy site.” What Buck heard did not match the movements of Chaim’s mouth, and he realized the man was speaking in Hebrew and he was hearing in English.
The protesting holy men watching the monitors outside shouted and pumped their fists, bringing others crowding up the steps. Many of these, Buck noticed, had no marks of loyalty either, and their number was growing. He peeked at the small monitor beneath his camera. GCNN was broadcasting Chaim, though through his headset he could hear chatter about technical difficulties. Chang broke in again, assuring Buck, “I’ve got the New Babylon people muted off the air, but they’re trying to get a bead on your camera. I’ll switch back to Carpathia and let them wonder awhile.”
“Hold till Chaim finishes this thought,” Buck said.
“As Carpathia continues,” Chaim said, “you should be able to see the laver where the priests wash their hands before they approach the main altar. The temple was creatively placed over a series of underground waterways where gravity allows constant water pressure for the various cleansings. Of course, he has no business in this place, and even a ceremonial washing of his hands will not exonerate him for defiling it.”
“Switching,” Chang said, and the monitor showed Carpathia signaling to his cameraman to follow.
“We were idle there for a moment,” the man said.
“What did you miss?”
“I don’t think we picked up the, you know . . .”
“My touching the blood?”
“No, Excellency. Shall we go back?”
“No!” Carpathia said, disgust in his voice. He held his black-red hands before the lens. “My faithful get the message.” He raised his voice till it echoed and was distorted. “Any who dares interrupt my pilgrimage will find his blood on my fingers!”
Pounding footsteps made the cameraman whirl, and the screen filled with robed priests, charging Carpathia.
“See where this blood comes from!” Carpathia shouted, and the camera went to the faces of the priests, who stopped and paled.
Looking to where the body lay, they moaned and cried out, “Does your evil know no bounds?”
“Are you the god-haters,” Nicolae raged, “who do not know me as a god, a god acknowledged by all others, but not named by you?”
One spoke up. “It should not surprise you that we showed our loyalty by offering daily sacrifices on your behalf.”
“You have made offerings,” Carpathia said, “but to another, even if it was for me. What good is it then, for you have not sacrificed to me? No sacrifice shall ever again be made in this temple except to me. Not for me, to me. Now leave or face the same fate as this unlucky one who was foolish enough not to believe that I have been allotted the nature of god!”
“God will judge you, evil one!”
“Give me your gun again, Supreme Commander!”
“We retreat not in fear but rather because you have turned the house of God into a killing field!”
“Just go! I shall have my way in my home, and should you be found without proof of loyalty to me by week’s end, you shall offer your heads as ransom.”
The priests left with shouts and threats, and Buck saw their colleagues outside greet them with sympathy and encouragement. “Lovers of God, unite!” one shouted, and onlookers picked up the chant.
Buck’s camera light went on, and Chaim began again. “The inner court inside the pillars has stairs that face east and lead to the main altar. Priests who revere God march around the Court of Priests and the Holy Place with their left hands closest to the altar. This one who would trample holy ground has already begun the opposite way, so his right hand will be closest to the altar. The Scriptures foretold that he would have no regard for the one true God. What plans he has for the beast with which he ridiculed the Via Dolorosa will be revealed only as he invades deeper into God’s own territory.
“What a shameful contrast this is to the Shekinah glory of God, which has thrice appeared, the last time at this very temple. God appeared to Moses on Mount Sinai when the Ten Commandments were handed down. He appeared again when Moses dedicated the Tent of God. And finally he showed himself at the dedication of Solomon’s Temple on this very site. Should God choose, he could reveal himself even today and crush under his foot this evil enemy. But he has an eternal plan, and Antichrist is merely a bit player. Though Antichrist has been granted power to work his horror throughout the world for a t
ime, he shall come to a bitter end that has already been decided.”
“We were off the air again, Excellency,” the cameraman reported when they came back on.
“What are you doing wrong?”
“Nothing, Potentate! My red light merely goes off, and no matter what I do, it returns when it returns.”
“Show that! Show the beauty of the construction that was for my benefit, even though the architect and the craftsmen did not know it at the time.” The camera panned to the cypress, the cedar, the gold inlays and coverings, the silver and the brass. “No expense was spared in my house!” Nicolae exulted.
Leon Fortunato, apparently feeling left out, said something not picked up by the microphone. “Speak up, my friend!” Carpathia said, removing his lapel mike and holding it to Fortunato’s mouth.
“You, my lord,” Fortunato rasped, obviously weak and wasted, “are the good spirit of the world and source of all good things.”
David Hassid sat high above Petra, with the solar panel of his laptop facing the sun and the screen shadowed. Chang was amazing. But the drama being played out on international television and over the Internet made David wonder how Chaim was going to gain the ability to free the believing Jews. He wished he could somehow communicate with Chaim that the time was now to put out a call for everyone to flee before Carpathia finished the desecration and returned to retaliate.
But scheming was not his place, David knew. God had had this worked out since the beginning of time, and he alone could prompt Chaim.
The crowds outside the temple looked dangerous. Carpathia supporters tried to shout down the Orthodox Jews, but those who had received the mark and worshiped the image could barely stand. The growing opposition to Carpathia seemed to gain confidence with its numbers, especially considering that the potentate’s inner circle and military personnel were so clearly incapacitated.
Still, David knew, Nicolae was a mortal incendiary, flaunting his temporary power. He instructed his ersatz camera bearer to set up behind him as he waited outside the veil hiding the Holy of Holies. David could only imagine the God of heaven watching with the rest of the world as, with a flourish, Nicolae removed a long knife from his belt and sliced the veil from as high as he could reach all the way to the floor, then pushed back each side. Over Carpathia’s shoulder—already waiting near the brass altar—David could see Carpathia’s own gaudy throne and the gigantic pig from the day before, now without a saddle and clearly no longer tranquilized. It fought two ropes around its neck, held by more Carpathia loyalists who had not yet received his mark. Fortunato and Moon shuffled into position behind the pig, as if only to be sure to be in the picture.
