The Left Behind Collection: All 12 Books

by Tim LaHaye

  “Tsion, I need your help.”

  “Anything.”

  “Stay down and out of sight, but find my phone in my bag and get it to me.”

  When Tsion crawled next to Buck with his phone, Buck asked him, “Sir, how old are you?”

  “That is considered an impolite question in my culture,” Tsion said.

  “Yeah, like I care about that now.”

  “I’m forty-six, Cameron. Why do you ask?”

  “You seem in pretty good shape.”

  “Thank you. I work out.”

  “You do? Really?”

  “Does that surprise you? You would be surprised at the number of scholars who work out. Of course there are many who do not, but—”

  “I just want to make sure you’ll be able to run if you need to.”

  “I hope it does not come to that, but yes, I can run. I am not as fast as I was as a young man, but I have surprising endurance for one of my vintage.”

  “That’s all I wanted to know.”

  “Remind me to ask you some personal question sometime,” Tsion said.

  “Seriously, Tsion. I did not offend you, did I?”

  Buck was strangely warmed. The rabbi actually chuckled. “Oh, my friend, think about it. What would it take to offend me now?”

  “Tsion, you’d better get back where you were, but can you tell me how much gasoline we have left?”

  “The gauge is right there in front of you, Cameron. You tell me.”

  “No, I mean in our extra cans.”

  “I will check, but surely we do not have time to fill our tanks while we are being chased. What do you have in mind?”

  “Why do you ask so many questions?”

  “Because I am a student. I will always be a student. Anyway, we are in this together, are we not?”

  “Well, let me just give you a hint. While you’re tapping on the sides of those gas cans to tell me how much we have left, I’m going to be checking the cigarette lighter on the dashboard.”

  “Cameron, cigarette lighters are the first to go in old vehicles, are they not?”

  “For our sakes, let’s hope not.”

  Buck’s phone buzzed. Startled, he flipped it open. “Buck here.”

  “Buck! It’s Chloe!”

  “Chloe! I really can’t talk to you now. Trust me. Don’t ask any questions. For right now I’m OK, but please ask everybody to pray and pray now. And listen, find the phone number for the airport at Al Arish, south of the Gaza Strip on the Mediterranean in the Sinai. Get hold of Ken Ritz, who should be waiting there. Have him call me at this number.”

  “But Buck—”

  “Chloe, it’s life or death!”

  “You call me as soon as you’re safe!”

  “Promise!”

  Buck clapped the phone shut and heard Tsion from the back. “Cameron! Are you planning to blow up this bus?”

  “You really are a scholar, aren’t you?” Buck said.

  “I just hope you wait until we get to the airport. I mean, a flaming bus may get us there faster, but your pilot friend may just ferry our remains to the States.”

  “That’s all right, Chloe,” Rayford said, “I long since gave up trying to sleep. I’m up reading anyway.”

  Chloe told him of her strange conversation with Buck. “Don’t waste time on the Internet,” Rayford said, “I’ve got a guide to all those phone numbers. Hang on.”

  “Daddy,” she said, “it’s gotta be a closer phone call for you anyway. Call Ken Ritz and tell him to call Buck.”

  “I’m tempted to fly over there myself, if I had a small enough craft.”

  “Daddy, we don’t need both you and Buck endangering your lives at the same time.”

  “Chloe, we do that every day.”

  “Better hurry, Dad.”

  Buck guessed the border patrol car was less than half a mile behind him. He put the accelerator to the floor and the bus lurched. The steering wheel shook and bounced as they hurtled down the road. The gauges still looked OK for the moment, but Buck knew it was only a matter of time before the radiator overheated.

  “I am guessing we have about eight liters of gasoline,” Tsion said.

  “That will be plenty.”

  “I agree, Cameron. That will be more than enough to make martyrs of us both.”

  Buck eased off the throttle just enough to smooth out the ride. Smooth, of course, was a misnomer. Buck felt it in his back and hips as they bounced along. The border patrol car had closed to within a quarter mile.

  Tsion called out from the back: “Cameron, it is clear we are not going to outrun them to the airport, do you agree?”

  “Yes! So?”

  “Then it makes no sense to push this vehicle to its limit. It would be smarter to conserve water, oil, and gasoline to be sure we make it to the airport. If we break down, all your resolve means nothing.”

  Buck couldn’t argue with that. He immediately slowed to about fifty kilometers per hour and sensed he had bought several miles. However, this also allowed the border patrol car to pull right up behind him.

  A siren sounded and a spotlight flashed in his outside rearview mirror. Buck merely waved and drove on. Soon it was yellow flashing lights, the spotlight, the siren, and the horn of the patrol car. Buck ignored them all.

  Finally, the squad car pulled even with him. He glanced down to see the very guard who had searched the bus. “Fasten your seat belt, Tsion!” Buck hollered. “The chase is on!”

  “I wish I had a seat belt!”

  Buck continued at his modest speed as the patrol car stayed with him, and the guard pointed that he should pull over. Buck waved at him and drove on. The guard pulled in front of the bus and slowed, again pointing to the side of the road. When Buck made no attempt to pull off, the car slowed even more, forcing him to swerve around it. He had no acceleration, however, and the patrol car, now on the other side of him, sped up to keep him from passing. Buck merely backed off and got behind the car again. When it stopped, he stopped.

  When the guard got out, Buck backed up and drove around him, building about a hundred-yard gap before the guard jumped back in and quickly caught up again. This time, the guard pulled alongside and showed Buck a handgun. Buck opened his window and hollered, “If I stop, this bus will stall! Follow me to Al Arish!”

  “No!” came the reply. “You follow me back to the border!”

  “We are much closer to the airport! I don’t think this bus can make it back to the border!”

  “Then leave it! You can ride back with me!”

  “I’ll see you at the airport!”

  “No!”

  But Buck slid his window shut. When the guard pointed his weapon at Buck’s window, Buck ducked but kept going.

  Buck’s phone was buzzing. He clicked it open. “Talk to me!”

  “This is Ritz. What’s the deal?”

  “Ken, have you passed through customs there?”

  “Yeah! I’m ready when you are.”

  “You ready for some fun?”

  “I thought you’d never ask! I haven’t had any real fun for ages.”

  “You’re gonna risk your life and break the law,” Buck said.

  “Is that all? I’ve been there before.”

  “Tell me your position and all, Ken,” Buck said.

  “Looks like I’m the only plane going out of here tonight. I’m just outside of a hangar at the end of the runway. My plane is, I mean. I’m talking to you from the little terminal here.”

  “But you’ve been processed, and you’re ready to leave Egypt?”

  “Yeah, no problem.”

  “What did you tell them as far as other passengers and cargo?”

  “I figured you wouldn’t want me to talk about anybody but you.”

  “Perfect, Ken! Thanks! And who do they think I am?”

  “You’re exactly who I say you are, Mr. Katz.”

  “Ken, that’s great. Hang on just a second.”

  The guard had pulled in fro
nt of the bus and now slammed on his brakes. Buck had to swerve almost all the way off the road to miss him, and when he pulled back on, the bus fishtailed and nearly went over.

  “I am rolling back here!” Tsion said.

  “Enjoy the ride!” Buck said. “I’m not stopping, and I’m not turning around.”

  The guard had turned off his flashing yellow lights and his spotlight. The siren was silent now too. He quickly caught up with the bus and tapped it from behind. He tapped it again. And again.

  “He’s afraid to hurt that squad car, isn’t he?” Buck said.

  “Do not be so sure,” Tsion said.

  “I’m sure.” Buck slammed on the brakes, making Tsion slide forward and cry out. Buck heard the screeching tires behind him and saw the squad car lurch off the right side of the road and down into loose gravel. Buck punched the accelerator. The bus stalled. As he tried to start it he saw the squad car, still in the gravel, coming up along his right side. The engine kicked in, and Buck popped the clutch. He picked up the phone. “Ken, you still there?”

  “Yeah, what in the world’s going on?”

  “You wouldn’t believe it!”

  “You bein’ chased or something?”

  “That’s the understatement of the year, Ritz! I don’t think we’re gonna have time to go through customs there. I need to know how to get to your plane. You need to be cleared, engines running, door open, and stairs down.”

  “This is gonna be fun!” Ritz said.

  “You have no idea,” Buck said. The pilot quickly told Buck the layout of the airstrip and the terminal and precisely where he was. “We’re within about ten minutes of you,” Buck said. “If I can keep this thing rolling, I’ll try to get as close to the runway and your plane as possible. What am I gonna run into?”

  The squad car came up onto the road, spun, and now faced the bus. Buck swerved left, but the car cut him off. Buck couldn’t avoid smashing him. The impact turned the car around in the road and knocked the hood off. Buck sensed little damage to the big old bus, but the temperature gauge was rising.

  “Who’s chasing you anyway?” Ritz said.

  “Egyptian border patrol,” Buck said.

  “Then you can bet they’re gonna radio ahead here. There’ll be some kind of a roadblock.”

  “I just hit the squad car. Is this going to be a roadblock I can blast through?”

  “You’ll have to play that one by ear. If you’re as close as you say you are, I’d better get out to my plane.”

  “The cigarette lighter works!” Buck hollered to Tsion.

  “I am not sure I wanted to hear that!”

  The smashed patrol car resumed pursuit. Buck saw the lights of the airstrip in the distance. “Tsion, come up here. We need to strategize.”

  “Strategy? It is lunacy!”

  “And what would you call what else we’ve been through?”

  “The lunacy of the Lord! Just tell me what to do, Cameron, and I will do it. Nothing will be able to stop us tonight.”

  The guard in the squad car had apparently radioed ahead not only for a roadblock but also for help. Two sets of headlights, side-by-side and covering both lanes of the road, headed toward the bus. “Have you heard the phrase ‘playing chicken’?” Buck asked.

  “No,” Tsion said, “but it is becoming clear to me. Are you going to challenge them?”

  “Don’t you agree they have more to lose than we do?”

  “I do. I am hanging on. Do what you have to do!”

  Buck pressed the accelerator to the floor. The heat gauge was pressed to the maximum and quivering. Steam billowed from the engine. “Here’s what we’re going to do, Tsion! Listen carefully!”

  “Just concentrate on your driving, Cameron! Tell me later!”

  “There will be no later! If these cars don’t back down, there’s going to be a tremendous crash. I think we’ll be able to keep going either way. When we get to whatever roadblock they have for us at the airport, we have to make a quick decision. I need you to pour all those gas containers into the one big water bucket, the one that’s wide open at the top. I’ll have the cigarette lighter hot and ready to go. If we come upon a roadblock I think I can smash through, I’ll just keep going and get as close to the runway as possible. The Lear is going to be off to our right and about a hundred yards from the terminal. If the roadblock is not something we can smash through, I’ll try to go around it. If that’s impossible, I’m going to pull the wheel hard to the left and slam on the brakes. That will make the back end swing around into the roadblock and anything loose will slide to the back door. You must put that bucket of gasoline in the aisle about eight feet from the back door, and when I give you the signal, toss that cigarette lighter into it. It needs to be just enough ahead of the collision so it’s burning before we hit.”

  “I do not understand! How will we escape that?”

  “If the roadblock is impenetrable, it’s our only hope! When that back door blows open and that burning gasoline flies out, we have to be hanging on up here with all our might so we don’t get thrown back into it. While they’re concentrating on the fire, we jump out the front and run toward the jet. Got it?”

  “I get it, Cameron, but I am not optimistic!”

  “Hang on!” Buck shouted as two cars from the airport closed on him. Tsion hooked one arm around the metal pole behind Buck and wrapped his other around Buck’s chest, grabbing the back of the chair like a human seat belt.

  Buck gave no indication of slowing or swerving and headed straight for the two sets of headlights. At the last instant he closed his eyes, fully expecting a huge collision. When he opened his eyes, the road was clear. He looked first one way then the other behind him. Both cars had gone off the road, one of them rolling. The original pursuit car was still behind him, and Buck heard gunfire.

  Less than a mile ahead the small airport loomed. Huge fences of mesh and barbed wire flanked the entrance, and just inside sat a blockade of a half-dozen vehicles and several armed soldiers. Buck could see he would not be able to blast through it or go around.

  He pressed in the cigarette lighter as Tsion lugged the gas cans and the bucket to the back. “It is sloshing around!” Tsion called out.

  “Just do the best you can!”

  As Buck raced toward the open gate and the huge blockade, the patrol car still following close behind, the cigarette lighter popped out. Buck grabbed it and tossed it back to Tsion. It bounced and rolled under a seat. “Oh no!” Buck shouted.

  “I have got it!” Tsion said. Buck peeked in the rearview mirror as Tsion climbed out from under a seat, tossed the cigarette lighter into the bucket, and scrambled to the front.

  The back of the bus burst into flames. “Hang on!” Buck shouted, pulling hard to the left and slamming on the brakes. The bus whirled so fast it nearly tipped over. The back smashed into the stockade of cars, and the back door burst open, flaming gasoline splashing everywhere.

  Buck and Tsion jumped out and ran, low as they could, around the left side of the blockade as guards began firing into the bus and others screamed and ran from the flames. Tsion was limping. Buck grabbed the older man and dragged him around the dark side of the terminal near the runway.

  There was the Learjet, ready for takeoff. Never had a plane looked like such an oasis of safety. Buck looked back twice, but no one seemed to have seen them escape. It was too good to be true, but it fit with everything else that had happened that night.

  Fifty feet from the plane, Buck heard shots and turned to see a half-dozen guards racing toward them, firing high-powered weapons. When they reached the steps, Buck grabbed Tsion by the belt in the back and threw him aboard. As Buck dived into the plane, a bullet ripped through the bottom of the heel of his right boot. Pain shot through the side of his foot as he yanked the door shut, Ritz already rolling.

  Buck and Tsion crawled up to behind the cockpit.

  Ritz muttered, “Those rascals shoot my plane, I’m gonna be really mad.”

 
The plane took off like a rocket and rose quickly. “Next stop,” Ritz announced, “Palwaukee Airport, State of Illinois, in the U.S. of A.”

  Buck lay on the floor, unable to move. He wanted to look out the window, but he didn’t dare. Tsion buried his face in his hands. He wept and seemed to be praying.

  Ritz turned. “Well, Williams, you sure left a mess down there. What was that all about?”

  “It would take a week to tell,” Buck said, panting.

  “Well,” Ritz said, “whatever it was, that was sure fun.”

  An hour later, Buck and Tsion sat in reclining seats, assessing the damage. “It is only sprained,” Tsion said. “I caught my foot under one of the seat supports when we first hit. I was afraid I had broken it. It will heal quickly.”

  Buck slowly took off his right boot and held it up so Tsion could see the trajectory of the bullet. A clean hole had been blasted from the sole to the ankle. Buck took off a bloody sock. “Would you look at that?” he said, smiling. “I won’t even need stitches. Just a nick there.”

  Tsion used Ken Ritz’s first-aid kit to treat Buck’s foot and found an Ace bandage for his own ankle.

  Finally settled back with their wounded limbs elevated, Tsion and Buck looked at each other. “Are you as exhausted as I am?” Buck said.

  “I am ready to sleep,” Tsion said, “but we would be remiss, would we not, if we did not return thanks.”

  Buck leaned forward and bowed his head. The last thing he heard, before he slipped into a sleep of sweet relief, was the beautiful cadence of Rabbi Tsion Ben-Judah’s prayer, thanking God that “the glory of the Lord was our rear guard.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Buck awoke nearly ten hours later, pleased that Tsion was still sleeping. He checked Tsion’s Ace bandage. The ankle was swollen, but it didn’t look serious. His own foot was too tender to go back into his boot. He limped forward. “How are you doing, Cap?”