by Tim LaHaye
“What are we looking at?” Chaim said as he settled in. Rayford told him and pointed to where the two other columns of tanks, armored trucks, personnel carriers, and rocket launchers peeled off to circle around the massive crowd of Israelis.
“I worry that only you Israeli believers are safe,” Rayford said. “But are even you safe outside the walls of Petra?”
“Captain, the question must be academic. Without a miracle of God, we are still hours from having more than half our people inside. How long before these attackers reach us?”
“They’re probably within firing range right now,” Rayford said. “In twenty more minutes they will all be in position. If they advance as soon as they are mustered, they would be able to fight hand to hand within ten more minutes of that.”
“So half an hour . . .”
“Maximum.”
“My people are neither armed nor prepared to defend themselves. We are at the mercy of God.”
“I’m tempted to have you urge all believers who are not Israelis to get into Petra as quickly as they can,” Rayford said. “Do you think your people would defer to them, allowing them to get to the front of the helicopter lines and make way for those who would walk in?”
“Not without understanding, and how would there be time to explain?”
“The alternative is that Operation Eagle suspend the airlift and every able-bodied believer, except those from Israel, be armed and prepared to stand against this attack.”
“You will be hopelessly outnumbered, Captain.”
“But we would inflict damage, and we would not go down without a fight.”
“I would not begin to try to advise you,” Chaim said. “You must do what you must do. What is God telling you?”
“He’s telling me I am as afraid as I have ever been, but I cannot stand by and allow a massacre. Are you able to operate a weapon, Doctor?”
“Forgive me, but I am not here to resist with arms. I am to take charge of these people in Petra and prepare the way for a visit from Tsion. And when he again leaves, I will remain.”
Rayford looked over his shoulder and shouted, “George, Abdullah, find out where Albie and Mac are. Tell them our situation and to connect with us as soon as we’re on the ground, if they can. Stand by to load weapons and set up a perimeter a hundred yards in front of the Israelis.”
“I am only guessing, Captain,” Abdullah said, “but if we are to surround them up to the walls on either side of the Siq, we will likely stand more than fifty yards apart each.”
“I didn’t say this would be easy or even successful, Smitty. I’m open to suggestions.”
“I have none.”
“Then round up our guys and tell the rest that all Operation Eagle personnel are on combat duty effective immediately.” He turned back to Chaim and motioned him to lean close. “Doctor, I need to tell you what happened here yesterday. . . .”
Chang had been the fastest keyboarder in his Chinese high school, regardless of whether they were inputting in Chinese or English. Now he sat speed-typing code into a secondary window every chance he got. He maneuvered his monitor in such a way that it faced neither the surveillance camera in the corner nor his coworkers if they remained at their stations. He also forced himself to look not at the characters he was typing but at the reflection off the screen, which told him when Figueroa or anyone else happened to stroll within view.
The secondary window, as he designed it, would show up on any check of the machine as a local notepad, but he programmed his codes so they would appear as random keys rather than any sensible strings. If questioned, he could attribute the gibberish to residue in translating from Chinese to English or even a computer language. He was building and formatting an independent drive he could access from anywhere and which would duplicate the capability of his laptop.
Chloe kept peeking at her watch and asking herself if she was a fool. What did she expect to find? Was she just satisfying her curiosity? Being out by herself, especially in the dark, gave her a wholly satisfying sense of freedom, which in turn made her wonder if she was too young for the responsibilities she bore. She was a wife and mother, head of an international co-op that meant the difference between health and starvation for its millions of members. And yet she needed this kind of an escape? One with perhaps more danger than she knew?
Finally she reached a corner, where she looked right to no avail and then left, which made her stop. Could that be her source of light, that faint strip of a lighter shade that seemed to color the darkness four or five blocks away? Did she have the time or energy to see if she had been that far off in her calculation? Of course. What else was she out here for? It was clear Buck and probably her dad were not really going to let her journey to Petra with Tsion when an air attack was certain. This might be her only mission, and of course, the odds were it would prove to be nothing. But even if it was folly and turned out to be nothing but a game of hide-and-seek in the dark, it was better than nothing.
She turned left.
Rayford banked and circled to drop back down, and as the craft leveled and settled, he saw Buck hurrying toward him, motioning with a finger across his neck to cut the engines as soon as possible. From all over the area, other drivers and chopper pilots emerged from vehicles and aircraft and headed his way, awaiting instructions and weaponry for the stand against the GC.
The crowd, however, seemed to ignore both the Operation Eagle personnel and the GC, though the clouds of dust and the sounds of engines drew closer. Rather, the people all seemed riveted to where the Siq led into the high-walled path into Petra. Rayford had dropped too quickly to see what they could be looking at.
Buck reached the chopper, more frantically signaling the cut-engine message, and Rayford quickly shut down and reached past Chaim to push open the door. “Everybody out,” Buck said. “You’ve got to see this!”
“Do we need weapons?” Rayford called, and they tumbled out.
“Doesn’t look like it. Follow me. Chaim, you all right?”
“Call me Micah, but yes. Lead the way.”
“Aren’t we afraid of people recognizing him?” Rayford said.
“No one’s looking,” Buck said.
“So I noticed,” Rayford said, sprinting behind Buck and realizing that Chaim had hiked up his robe and was somehow keeping pace. George and Abdullah pounded along behind.
Buck led them to an incline, then bent and charged up to where a giant boulder offered a flat surface from where they could overlook the hundreds of thousands. “There,” Buck said, “near the entrance. See?”
Chloe grew more excited the farther she walked. The contrast between the light and the darkness grew stronger, and she knew she had found what she had seen from the safe house in the Strong Building. The possibility that it represented anything more than a rogue light left on by some quirk of the power grid was, she knew, likely only in her head. But as she came within a block and a half of the window, which was barred and indeed at street level, she saw the camera. It sat directly above the window, hooded by a thick metal box that she would not be surprised to learn was covered with graffiti. A tiny dot of red light glowed from it, and the lens, though she could barely make it out, swiveled in a 180-degree arc.
Chloe was certain she was too far from any light source to have been picked up by what appeared to be an old camera, but she slowed and stayed close to buildings and the rubble of buildings, stopping whenever she detected the lens pointing in her direction. When it swung away, she hurried to get closer.
Finally she crossed the street away from the camera and pressed her back up against a wall. Again she stopped when the camera seemed to find her, and when it swung the other way, she edged closer. Eventually she was within three feet of where the light from the window reached the wall next to her across the street. Inside the window she saw only a fluorescent ceiling unit with three of its four tubes illuminated. When next the camera scanned her way, she realized the light barely touched her left sleeve. She sto
od stock-still, wondering if the camera had any kind of a motion sensor.
Here came the rotation of the lens again. Chloe remained where she was but moved her arm slightly in the edge of the light. The camera stopped rotating and the light in the window went out. Now all she could see was the dot of red, and it remained stationary. She imagined the lens opening to try to decipher what stood across the street there in the darkness.
Should she run? Was it possible that whoever or whatever controlled the camera and the light was as scared as she was? Did it or they want to catch her or scare her off? or simply be aware of what was out there? Chloe took a deep breath and, trying to relax, worked to regulate the rise and fall of her diaphragm. One thing she was sure of, if she could trust David and Chang, this was not GC.
Chloe tiptoed halfway across the street and noticed a faded sign on the wall, but still it was too dark to make out. She stood there, the camera seeming to study her. Finally the fluorescent light came back on. She did not move, except to raise her eyes and read the sign. It was some sort of currency exchange. That meant that behind the bars was a window likely made of bulletproof glass.
She put her hands in her pockets, the handgrip of the Luger nestled in her right palm. The camera stayed on her as she moved closer to the window, and the lens moved only enough to keep her centered, the faint whine telling her it was also adjusting constantly to keep her in focus. At long last, throwing caution to the wind, she bent at the waist and peered inside the window.
A squawk box crackled to life. “Identify yourself and explain your mark.”
There, just above the heads of the people at the front of the crowd, stood the man Rayford knew to be Michael. He was dressed similarly to Chaim, though he was taller. He held both hands aloft, and such a hush fell over the Israelis that everyone could hear him, though he spoke in normal, conversational tones. Rayford stood far beyond the edge of the throng, yet it sounded as if Michael spoke directly into his ear.
If the effect on the crowd was the same as on Rayford, they were filled with a sacred peace.
Michael began, “Fear not, children of Abraham. I am your shield. Fear not, for God has heard your voice. He says to you, ‘I am the God of Abraham your father: fear not, for I am with you, and will bless you.’
“Behold, the Lord your God has set the land before you: go up and possess it, as the Lord God of your fathers has said unto you; fear not, neither be discouraged. Hear, O Israel, you approach this day unto battle against your enemies: let not your hearts faint, fear not, and do not tremble, neither be terrified because of them; be strong and of a good courage, fear not, nor be afraid of them: for the Lord your God, he it is that goes with you; he will not fail you, nor forsake you.
“Peace be unto you; fear not: you shall not die. Turn not aside from following the Lord, but serve the Lord with all your heart. God your Father says, ‘You shall eat bread at my table continually. Be courageous, and be valiant.’ Fear not: for they that be with us are more than they that be with them.
“You shall not need to fight in this battle: set yourselves, stand still, and see the salvation of the Lord with you, O Judah and Jerusalem, for the Lord will be with you. God shall hear you, and afflict them because therefore they fear not his name. Say to them that are of a fearful heart, ‘Be strong, fear not: behold, your God will come with vengeance, even God with a recompense; he will come and save you.’”
Michael stepped down and began walking through the masses, who backed away and followed with their eyes. As he strode past, he continued to encourage. “For the Lord your God will hold your right hand, saying unto you, ‘Fear not; I will help you, people of Israel.’ So says the Lord, and your redeemer, the Holy One of Israel.
“Thus says the Lord that created you, O Israel, ‘Fear not: for I have redeemed you, I have called you by your name; you are mine.’ It shall be well with you. Be glad and rejoice: for the Lord will do great things. The very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not therefore: you are of more value than many sparrows.
“The Lord God says, ‘Fear not, for I am the first and the last.’ Stand firm then, remnant of Israel. Fear not! Fear not! Fear not! Fear not!”
The crowd began to take up the chant, louder and louder, as Michael found his way to the edge of the people, facing what was now the middle column of desert dust, fast approaching. He stood grasping his robe at the chest, chin raised toward the advancing armies of the evil one, and behind him the teeming thousands matched his pose.
Rayford and Buck and Abdullah and Chaim hurried down and fell into the crowd behind Michael. Rayford couldn’t know how the others felt. As for him, fear was gone and he had never rested more surely in God.
Chloe found her throat constricted, but they could see her mark! She was able to croak, “If you can see it, it does not need to be explained.”
“Identify yourself.”
“What more do you need to know than that I am a sister in Christ?”
“How are you able to survive the radiation? Are you supernaturally protected?”
“I will answer only when I know whether you are all brothers and sisters.”
“Persuade us you are not radioactive and we will welcome you inside.”
“I must know if any enemy is among you.”
“We are all believers. No Carpathianists, no GC.”
“The radiation is a ruse perpetrated by the Judah-ites.” Chloe had crossed a line she could not retreat from. Any more information that might be secreted to the enemy, and she would be giving away the safe house and her comrades.
“To what purpose?”
“You should be able to surmise.”
“Are you alone, sister?”
“You mean—”
“Is anyone with you now?”
“No.”
There was a long silence. The camera remained on her, the light on in the empty room. It had a ratty, gray, short-nap industrial carpet, a green countertop built into a wall, and three Plexiglas-windowed transaction stations, all long since retired from use.
A door in the far corner opened slowly, and a black man in bare feet, beltless suit pants, and a white, sleeveless T-shirt emerged. Maybe in his late twenties and muscular, he moved cautiously across the carpet, standing directly under the light, looking out, not smiling but not scowling either. Chloe detected hope, curiosity, perhaps bemusement in his eyes. He invited her closer to the window with a wave, and she lowered her face to within inches of it. He broke into a huge grin. “Greetings, sister!” he called out, and she saw the mark of God on his forehead.
He hurried back to the door and called to others. A black girl came out, about Chloe’s age, wearing shorts and socks and an oversized man’s white shirt. Chloe felt on display, as if at the zoo. And here came two middle-aged Latino women—one big boned but gaunt, the other thin and short.
“You’re okay?” the young black woman called out. “How long you been outside?”
“Almost an hour. But I’ve been out before. Lots of times.”
“And you’re okay?”
Chloe smiled. “I’m okay! Not contagious!”
“Let her in!”
“Yeah, let her in!”
“Get Enoch! He’ll decide.”
First in line, Rayford noticed, in each of the three massive divisions of GC battalions, were full-track tanks, chewing up rocks and dirt and sand, bouncing and rolling over the uneven ground. Behind them, beyond the clouds of dust, from what he had seen from the air, were missile launchers. Then came artillery, then armored personnel carriers, trucks, jeep-type vehicles with gun-toting soldiers, then smaller cars.
Rayford judged their speed at about thirty-five miles an hour, and he assumed they would soon synchronize a stopping point where every weapon in their arsenals would have maximum kill power. But there seemed no slowing as they drew within half a mile, then a quarter mile. They bore down on the unarmed civilians.
Rayford suddenly had a sinking feeling. He had only assumed the rest of t
he Operation Eagle forces would merely stand in confidence behind Michael. But what if they acted on old information? What if Albie or Mac or someone else had provided them weapons and they returned fire, or worse, initiated it?
He wanted to grab his phone and his walkie-talkie and confirm with his people that they were to stand down, to remain unarmed. But the GC were nearly upon them now. The noise reverberated off the rock walls and the dust blew all around them. Still, neither side opened fire. Rayford finally ducked and turned, covering his eyes against the dust and peeking back to be sure none of his people took overt action. As far as he could see, the Israelis and the Operation Eagle forces remained calm, standing firm, trusting in God’s protection.
Rayford had to fight a smile. In his humanness he allowed that he could be in heaven within seconds, and his survival instinct wanted him to defend himself. But the promises of God also rang in his ears. He shook his head at the lunacy of Carpathia’s ego. Clearly this three-pronged army had been instructed not to fire unless fired upon, and they intended to run over the Israelis and grind them into the ground!
They were within a hundred feet now, yet Rayford heard not a sound from behind, not a cry from anyone’s lips. This flood from the serpent’s mouth was going to hit an invisible wall or be swept away by some wall of water from nowhere, or the Israelis and their helpers would prove so ethereal that the weapons of destruction would pass harmlessly through them.
Ten feet and ground zero, and suddenly the entire mass of God’s people fell to their knees and covered their ears at the thunderous peals that resounded like mountains falling. All around the sea of people, right at the feet of those in the front on every side, the earth split and ripped open for a mile in every direction away from Petra.
The echoes from the shattering of the earth were as loud as the actual cleaving, and as the tanks and missiles and cannons and personnel armaments were fired in panic or from being shaken to their core, the projectiles rose vertically and eventually dropped back down onto the plunging armies. Smoke and fire rose in great belches from the colossal gorge that appeared to reach the bowels of hell. The roar of racing engines, whose drivetrains propelled steel tracks or wheels that merely spun in thin air, could not cover the screams of troops who had been just seconds from squashing their prey and now found themselves hurtling to their deaths.
