“Wow!” Meachem gasped. “This is some kind of palace.”
Abu Shad marched in from a side entrance. “Please be seated,” he snapped. “Al-sayyid Rashid will be with you momentarily. In the meantime, please read this statement he will be releasing to the press later in the day.” The secretary handed each man a copy of a formal statement and then left the room.
Bridges quickly scanned the copy. His mouth dropped slightly. He said nothing.
Five minutes later, Hassan Jawhar Rashid walked into the room from the same door Abu Shad had entered. “Good day to you, gentlemen.”
Bridges immediately leaped to his feet. “Al-sayyid Rashid! You are looking well!” He tried not to cringe, but Rashid’s cheek was still sunken and the side of his face drooped, radically altering his appearance.
Rashid felt the small bandage on his forehead. “I certainly look better than the last time you saw me. We now have hair covering the back of my head to conceal the surgery.” He motioned for them to be seated. He didn’t mention the bandage on the side of his face. “People still seem amazed by my rapid recovery.”
“Of course! Your healing has been a miracle.” Bridges pointed at the paper in his hand. “This is an amazing statement we have just read.”
Rashid sat down, a slight smile crossing his face. “You like it?”
“If this agreement with Israel can be consummated, you will be bringing peace to the entire world,” Bridges said.
“The Israelis and the Palestinians have fought back and forth for decades, as we all know,” Rashid said. “In the past, a peace agreement would almost be completed and then the wars would explode again. I think I can end that problem.”
“You will do so with the use of your petroleum resources?” Bridges asked.
“If the Israelis agree to join the oil distribution system I now have in place in many other countries, it will allow me to turn to my Arab friends and insist they comply with the terms of peace. Because of my relationship with Turkey, I am part of a country with a history of dealing with this region. I have a natural platform to demand compliance.”
“You have intelligence needs?” Bridges asked. “Of course, we are ready to respond. What can we do?”
“Thank you, Frank.” Rashid’s voice remained smooth and calm. “However, I have another system in place for this part of the world.” A slight grin edged up the side of his mouth. “I already know everything necessary to complete this deal.”
“What if the leadership of Israel refuses to comply?” Bridges ventured gingerly.
“I’ll have their throats slit!” Rashid exploded. “They’ll die like street dogs!”
“I—I see,” Bridges mumbled.
Rashid took a deep breath. “Let us not quibble over insignificant issues.” The cool voice returned. “Do you have any insight into the horrendous storm and volcanic activity that has been occurring? I understand several million have died.”
Bridges had avoided numbering the dead, but since Rashid seldom was inaccurate when he used numbers, he knew to not attempt to manipulate the man. He had to be straightforward. “We have no insight into the cause of these strange experiences.”
“And I understand you captured Mary Peck, the daughter of Graham Peck?” Rashid’s voice abruptly conveyed the all-knowing quality that was always so unsettling. “You are making progress in catching this man?”
Bridges nodded perfunctorily. “Yes sir.”
“What have you learned?”
“After we used sodium Pentothol, the girl revealed where the family was hiding.” Bridges kept speaking in a factual voice, avoiding saying more than he could support. “It turns out they were living in Wisconsin, and had retreated to another location before we arrived. We burned their house down.”
“Excellent!” Rashid pounded the table. “I like a violent response. I trust you will soon have this man who could create so much trouble for us.”
“We have made him into a criminal in the media,” Bridges continued. “With the services of the police, the public, and The Restored Church groups in particular, today we have a much larger dragnet in place to catch Peck.”
“Good. Good.” Rashid drummed on the table with his fingertips. “I am concerned that this volcano could create serious problems across your country. Do you think your president is on top of this situation?”
“I am sure he is responding quickly to the crisis. Of course, what could anyone do?”
“Exactly!” Rashid’s eyes sparkled as he leaned forward. “I want you to use the complexity of this problem as an opportunity for more attacks on the president. Get on your television and call the president a traitor, a fool, an incompetent. Hang the impossibility of his doing anything around his neck like a ball and chain!”
“Yes sir!” Bridges agreed, but he felt uneasy. The public would quickly recognize there was little anyone could do to combat the effects of a volcano, but he must attempt to do what Rashid expected.
CHAPTER 43
THE MOUNTING DEATH TOLL from the Montana volcano sent shock waves across the country. Depending on the drift of the wind, the sky remained dark or sometimes became opaque. Effects of the poisonous gases subsided to a degree, but thousands and thousands of people were found dead in their cars, in out-of-the-way motels, on back roads, as well as among the populations of large cities. The elderly died quickly. Television stations continuously flashed scenes of these ghastly scenarios.
Graham knew these deaths had to be affecting public opinion. He had followed such events carefully when it was his job on the political beat to keep the mayor informed about any changing mentality. People’s ideas about political officials’ performance were always shaped by gigantic catastrophes politicians had no control over. When Bridges blasted the president for not doing more, Graham sensed something strange was going on behind the mayor’s blistering attacks. Borden Camber Carson had to be hiding in the shadows.
Matthew came out of his bedroom. “I think I have all of my equipment.” He looked at his watch. “Time’s flying. Adah and I ought to leave for Chicago in a few minutes.”
“I don’t want you to go,” Graham exclaimed.
“Dad, we’ve been over this twenty times,” Matt answered. “You’re the one who’s got to stay in hiding.”
Graham took a deep breath and shook his head. “I don’t know,” he mumbled. “The whole idea terrifies me.”
“Driving that car we borrowed from Alice Masterson will help,” Jackie added. “No one in Chicago has a clue who she is.”
“And I look different.” Matt glanced in the mirror. “Dying my hair black makes me look like Adah’s brother. We’ll do okay.”
“You’ve got that diagram I made for you of the inside of the Cook County Jail?” Graham asked.
“Yes,” Matt said. “I bet I know more about that prison than the cops do.”
“Remember to check and find out if any of Mary’s friends have been visiting her,” Graham added. “That’s your clue as to whether it’s safe to attempt a drop-in at the jail.”
“Dad, we have to trust God to protect us,” Matt said. “It’s the only hope we’ve got, and it’s the biggest shield on the planet.”
Graham nodded. “Sure, but it’s easier to affirm than practice.”
Carrying a backpack, Adah came out of the workroom where she slept. “I think I have everything I need,” she said and set the bag on the table. “Looks like we are ready to go.” She hugged Jackie and shook Graham’s hand. “Don’t stop praying for us.”
“You can bet we won’t,” Jackie said.
“And get Graham’s hair turned yellow,” Adah said. “He must look different.” She opened the back door and started toward the car. “We’re on our way.”
“Remember the electronic cameras and sensors,” Graham said, giving Matt a final warning. “They’ll be watching you everywhere you go.”
“You bet.” Matt waved and shut the car door. “Bye!” he waved out the window and started the car down the
road.
“What do you think will happen?” Jackie asked as the auto disappeared in a cloud of dust.
Graham bit his lip. “Anything!” he said thoughtfully. “Absolutely anything is possible.”
CHAPTER 44
A DETAILED PLAN of what the Israelis had been doing militarily for the last several months lay on Rashid’s desk. He picked up the report and read it carefully. Continuing tension with Arab terrorists and the surrounding Islamic nations had caused the prime minister, Dov Landau, to arbitrarily remove the Muslim Wakf, Jordan’s select temple guards and land trust, from the control of Haram es-Sharif, the Temple Mount in Jerusalem. Rashid’s report also contained a speech Landau made in the Knesset, calling for the rebuilding of the ancient Jewish temple so the Jewish nation would forever have a place to worship. Work had begun immediately, and the Arab world had predictably reacted violently, but Israel’s military strength remained too great to be toyed with. Some national leaders of Islamic states had even cited Adolf Hitler’s actions as an example of the response needed at this exact moment, but none came.
Borden Camber Carson, or Hassan Jahwar Rashid, as he now preferred to be called, had studied the history of Adolf Hitler from every possible angle. He was impressed that he and the German dictator shared many unexpected characteristics. Rashid was convinced that Hitler had been betrayed by arrogant generals who despised his ability, and that brought the defeat of Germany. Learning from Hitler’s journey to and through World War II, Hassan would never make the mistake of letting presumptuous subordinates gain the upper hand. He kept his thumb on everything.
“Sire, the paperwork is done.” Abu Shad walked into Rashid’s Istanbul office overlooking the Black Sea. “I have made the adjustments to the proclamation that indicates you will also be called Supreme Commander in Chief.” He placed the documents on Rashid’s desk. “It also indicates you will be known in working relationships as only Chief.”
Rashid studied Abu Shad’s face. The man always had a look of complicity and kept his eyes looking down like an obedient pup. There was no reason to worry about Abu. He met all the specifications for a compliant servant.
“You have notified the television networks that I will make a statement later in the day?” Rashid asked.
“Yes, sire.” Abu Shad continued to look down as he nodded his head. “They are preparing for a global hookup.”
“At that time, I will also make a report on my progress in establishing peace between the Jews and Arabs,” Rashid continued. “I know that statement will create worldwide interest.”
“Of course.”
Rashid glanced at the dark clouds outside. “Are we still struggling with the effects of that volcano in the United States?”
“To some extent the weather has been affected.”
“Yes, I expected this, but I hope it doesn’t detract from the television appearance tonight.”
“I’m sure nothing will affect that event negatively,” the secretary said.
“Excellent.” Rashid pushed him away. “I will read these documents alone.” He watched Abu Shad walk out like a chambermaid. “I’ll call you when I need something more.”
The truth was, he didn’t actually trust even Abu Shad. He didn’t trust anyone. Like Bismarck and his Prussian predecessor Frederick the Great, he didn’t trust democracy or any rule of the people. Only a supreme monarch could guide the world out of the morass of its troubles. And Rashid was that man.
In studying the rise of the Third Reich, Hassan had carefully scrutinized German history. When Kaiser Wilhelm was crowned in 1871, the foundation had been laid for the rise of the great German state that would eventually be formed in Berlin. In turn, Bismarck had created the Reichstag, the German Parliament, but he didn’t trust the corporate voice. He defiantly said, “The great questions of the day will not be settled by resolution and majority votes . . . but by blood and iron.”
And if Rashid believed in anything, it was the rule of blood and iron. Only if he created an army greater than the combined military forces of the world would he be able to put in place a system of world government and unity to create a unified globe.
When World War I began long, long ago at the start of the twentieth century, the German General von Moltke had said war would unleash “the noblest virtues of courage, self-renunciation, loyalty, and willingness to sacrifice with one’s life.” Hitler had deeply embraced those ideas and immediately volunteered for the army. Rashid was always moved by these same goals.
The prime minister of Turkey got up from his desk and walked across and out to the veranda. He always enjoyed the cool breeze blowing in from the Black Sea. The gentle wind restored tranquillity.
He considered the title Chief much like Hitler’s laying claim to Fuhrer. The designation was singular, obvious, and clarifying, as well as demanding. Using this word, the multitudes would salute him and instantly give their supreme allegiance to what he dictated.
Rashid’s thoughts returned to his study of history. Unfortunately, the United States had entered the First World War, tipping the balance of power and forcing Kaiser Wilhelm II to surrender and go into exile in the Netherlands. Rashid remained fascinated that the old monarch had spent the rest of his life studying occult writers and seeking explanations from soothsayers about why Germany had lost the war. Even Houston Chamberlain, the famous student of the secret and the superhuman, had whispered in Wilhelm’s ear that Germany would rise again in glorious power. Never mind that many of these prognosticators at the war’s outset also taught that Germany would win World War I before Christmas. The fact that a German kaiser studied the occult fascinated Rashid.
The occult had a central place in Rashid’s thinking. After that extraordinary experience, which he shared with no one, Rashid began his rise to power, even as Hitler had taken on extraordinary speaking capacities after studying occult ideas. No matter what anyone said, evil offered its own gifts, capacities, and powers to those who saluted its colors.
Rashid closed the door to the veranda and returned to his desk. Hopefully in a matter of days, he would make his treaty with the Israelis, propelling himself to a new level of extraordinary global power. Nothing must impede this step.
The face of Graham Peck flashed across his mind. He remembered the first time he saw this man in Frank Bridges’ office. Something undefinable was hidden in the American’s eyes. The man seemed to have a quality of character, of strength, of honesty and determination that particularly bothered Rashid. Peck might be a threat to everything Rashid had planned. No, he wasn’t a statesman or a politician of a stature that could thwart Rashid’s carefully laid plans, but he could derail the train by talking to the right people in the government and press. Rashid pounded his desk. Peck had to be killed!
Hitler’s example had taught Rashid that death was a tool, a basic political tool, to be used judiciously. These times demanded executions, just as Hitler had attempted to execute the Jews. Of course, that was the one part of Adolf Hitler’s strategy that bothered Rashid the most. No, it wasn’t the killing that disturbed Rashid, it was killing the Jews. Recognizing that mass extermination had been aimed at this one simple, quiet population lurking in the back streams of Europe still troubled Rashid. The extermination of the six million caused him to keep one aspect of his life totally and completely confidential.
Although no one in the world knew, Rashid’s mother was Jewish.
III
TERROR ON THE HORIZON
Behold, a white horse,
and its rider had a bow;
and a crown was given to him,
and he went out conquering
and to conquer.
REVELATION 6:2
CHAPTER 45
THE TRIP FROM TOMAHAWK to Illinois was filled with fear. Matthew Peck kept remembering the earlier terrifying chase out of Arlington Heights that had ended in the car wreck that killed one of Bridges’ men, Jake Pemrose. Matt didn’t want any more violent scenes. The possibility of electronic surveill
ance and detection stayed upmost in his mind.
Driving a ten-year-old hydrogen-propelled four-seater they had obtained from Alice Masterson, Matthew and Adah arrived in Chicago early enough to check out visitation at the Cook County Jail. Matthew quickly confirmed that Mary had been moved to regular confinement, and some of her friends had visited her. Apparently, all Matt and Adah needed to do was show up within the normal visiting hours, and they could talk to her through a thick glass shield in a special unit, but both Matt and Adah knew they were walking far out on the end of a thin branch. One step inside the county jail was a dangerous journey for anyone named Peck.
After circling the block several times, Matt said, “Fierce-looking place. I’m not sure I want to go in.”
“Yes,” Adah said. “Escaping from inside that brick building appears to be impossible.”
“That’s what we’re counting on, Adah. We’re going to take a very different route out of this place than the police would ever expect. Dad had special insight into how the jail fits together.”
“Okay, but we must pray for God to protect us or we will be in a cell with Mary.”
A large car pulled out and a parking slot opened in front of them. Matt immediately pulled in and stopped. “So far so good,” he said. “It’s time to get into our in-style teenager looks.” He reached in the backseat. “This blond wig will certainly give you a different appearance.”
Matt opened the glove compartment and took out a small box. “Alice Masterson also obtained these for you.” He put the container in her hands. “As soon as you put in these contact lenses, your brown eyes will be blue. I’d say that ought to give your face a completely different look.”
Adah stared at the little box. “You are changing me into a completely different person!”
“I certainly hope so!”
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