The Left Behind Collection: All 12 Books

by Tim LaHaye

  “And you have a new safe house, somewhere to go if you can get them out of there.”

  “Yes.”

  “Grab my bag from behind my seat.”

  Buck pulled it up, deciding it weighed more than Albie. “What have you got in this thing?”

  Albie was all business. “Open, please.”

  The top layer consisted of Albie’s underwear.

  “Dig, please. Find side arm and holster.”

  Buck dug past what looked like a GC uniform. “Is this what I think it is?”

  Albie nodded with a pleased look. “See cap. Check rank.”

  Buck whistled. “Deputy commander? Where did you get this?”

  “No questions, no obligations.”

  “C’mon, did you used to work for the GC?”

  “Better not to know.”

  “But did you?”

  “No, but no more questions.”

  “Just where did you—”

  “I have my sources. Sources are my life. Call Rayford. Tell him to meet us at Palwaukee.”

  “He shouldn’t get to the safe house?”

  “We need a vehicle. We need it as bad as Rayford needs it.”

  “How so?”

  “Watch and learn. At Palwaukee, where can I change into the uniform?”

  “You’re going to—?”

  “You don’t ask. You only answer.”

  “There’s a spot,” Buck said. “I can show you.”

  “Anywhere we can leave Tobias Rogoff?”

  “I wouldn’t, now that we don’t really know anyone there.”

  “OK. Find my papers. Dig deeper. Between the fake bottom of bag and the real bottom.”

  Buck found Albie’s straight ID, then, right where he said, a worn leather pouch.

  “Open, please. How many of us will be in the vehicle, six?”

  Buck thought and confirmed that.

  “And Mr. Rogoff needs a whole seat to self.”

  “Maybe not.”

  “Hope not. Too crowded. Find the papers to go with the clothes.”

  Buck leafed through until he found documents proving Albie’s high-level role with the GC Peacekeeping Force. The picture, in snappy uniform, was of Albie but over a different name.

  “Marcus Elbaz?” Buck said.

  “Deputy Commander Elbaz to you, citizen,” Albie said with such conviction that for a moment Buck thought he was truly upset. Buck saluted and Albie matched him. “Call Steele now.”

  Rayford was heartsick that Chloe was so determined to kill Kenny rather than see him fall into the hands of the enemy. And yet as a father, he could identify with her passion. It terrified him that she had thought it through to the point where she had an injection prepared.

  Rayford had found a way back to a short stretch of unobstructed open road without making it obvious he had emerged from a restricted area. Now he had to find shortcuts and pick his way around debris and craters while careful not to violate any traffic laws. When he was free of other traffic he would make up for lost time and get to the safe house at the highest speed he could muster, his and his passengers’ heads banging the roof of the Land Rover or not.

  Buck’s call was puzzling, and Rayford demanded to talk with Albie.

  “What’s the deal, friend? What’re you up to?”

  “Do you trust me, Captain Steele?”

  “With my life, and more than once.”

  “So trust me now. You get to Palwaukee and be waiting for us. Then be prepared to get me to the safe house fast as you can. I’ll explain roles as we go. If we’re lucky, we beat the GC and we get the rabbi and the baby out. If we engage, everything depends on me.”

  Tsion prayed as he waited, but God did not grant the request to calm his fears. He’d had close calls in his day, but waiting for the enemy was the worst. He tiptoed around, watching, listening. Then he found the TV and bent to turn it on. He would only watch. But it would not come on. Of course! He smacked himself in the head. He had turned off the main power.

  David hated this more than all the rest that came with working undercover in the enemy camp: knowing all that was happening half a world away, yet being powerless to do anything but warn and open the occasional skyscraper door.

  There was nothing more he or Annie or Ming could do from New Babylon. The players were in their places and the dangers real. All they could do was wait to hear how it turned out.

  Ming’s parents and brother were reunited with her at marker 53, and David was struck by the formalities. As he watched through binoculars, Ming and Chang embraced enthusiastically and emotionally. Ming kissed her mother lightly on the cheek, and she and her father shook hands. Then came more animated conversation and soon Annie was on the phone again.

  “Mr. Wong is insulted that you are not here to greet him.”

  “Well, I can hardly do anything about th—”

  “David, just come. Can you?”

  CHAPTER 17

  “I trust Albie,” Rayford said, “but I don’t like this.”

  “What do you think he’s up to?” Chloe said.

  “I don’t know. He’s a pretty shrewd guy. The problem is that we have only one vehicle.”

  “Thanks for reminding me,” Chloe said.

  “I just wish he’d make arrangements for another car at Palwaukee. I don’t like leaving Tsion and Kenny like this.”

  Leah, strapped in in the backseat, pressed her hands against the ceiling to keep herself from bouncing too high. “How much farther, Daddy?” she said.

  Chloe made a face, but Rayford said, “At least one of us is keeping a sense of humor.”

  “David,” Buck said on the phone, “Albie wants to talk with you. What’s happening there? I hear the crowd.”

  “Let’s just say I’ve pulled rank and appropriated an administrative golf cart. I’m on my way to mollify a public relations problem. At least I get to see Annie. Where are you guys?”

  “Not sure. I’ll let you talk to the pilot.”

  Buck handed the phone to Albie and listened as he peered out the window.

  “David, my friend, good to talk with you again. I’m going to enjoy working with you. . . . We’re within forty minutes of Palwaukee. If I represent myself as GC, will they ask for a security code? . . . They will? Is there one I can use?” He covered the phone. “Buck, write this down . . . OK, go ahead . . . zero-nine-two-three-four-nine. Got it. . . . So, anything that starts with zero-nine will be OK in the future and will go back through you for clearance. Good . . . helicopter? Yes, we sure could! You can do that? . . . GC? Perfect! . . . I’ll tell the tower it will be delivered when? . . . OK! I know we will meet one day soon.”

  David was struck by the variety in the crowds that lined the route to the courtyard. People of every ethnic background slowly moved toward the palace—young and old, wealthy and poor, colorfully dressed. Many appeared shell-shocked, as if they truly didn’t know what they would do without Nicolae J. Carpathia to lead them through such a tumultuous time.

  David called Mac. “Where are you, Captain?”

  “Sector 94. Fun work.”

  “People must love that uniform.”

  “Yeah, they want to know if I know the supreme commander personally.”

  “And I’m sure you tell them how thrilled you are that you do.”

  “What do you want, David?”

  “I need you to make a couple of calls for me. Get hold of the tower at Palwaukee and—you got a pencil?—refer to security code zero-nine-two-three-four-nine. Tell ’em they’ll be hearing from one of our people who needs to hangar an Egyptian fighter there. Someone will be picking him up along with two passengers, and they must not be detained for clearances and paperwork. We will handle all that from New Babylon. Then call our base in Rantoul.”

  “Illinois?”

  “Right. Tell them we need a chopper in Brookfield, Wisconsin, but all they have to do is get it as far as Palwaukee and we’ll take it from there. Tell Palwaukee Tower that too. Can you do that
?”

  “Gee, I don’t know, David. I’m better in the cockpit than on the phone. What’s shakin’ where you are?”

  “Tell ya later. Get on those calls and we’ll talk.”

  David arrived at sector 53, where Annie was keeping the peace and keeping people moving. She answered questions about the times of the ceremony and the burial and also told people how far it was to water, shade, medicine, and the like. In public, of course, she had to be formal with David.

  “Welcome, Director Hassid. I would like you to meet our very special guests from China. This is Mr. and Mrs. Wong, their daughter Ming Toy, who works with us in Belgium, and their son, Chang.”

  David bowed and shook hands all around. Mr. Wong was plainly unhappy. “What language you speak?” he said.

  “Primarily English,” David said. “Also Hebrew.”

  “No good,” Mr. Wong said. “No Asian language?”

  “I’m sorry, no.”

  “You know German? I know German. English not good.”

  “No German. I apologize.”

  “We talk?”

  “I’d be honored, sir.”

  “You forgive bad English?”

  “Certainly. Perhaps your daughter can translate.”

  “No! You understand.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “You insult no meet me at airport. I tell you through daughter we come.”

  “I did get that word secondhand, sir, but I was too busy here. I apologize and ask your forgiveness.”

  “VIP! I VIP because of business. Give lots money to Global Community. Very big patriot. Global patriot.”

  “You are well known here, sir, and your daughter is highly regarded. Please accept my apologies on behalf of the entire GC management team for our inability to welcome you in the manner you deserve.”

  “Son work for you someday. Not old enough yet. Only seventeen.”

  David glanced at Chang and noticed the mark of the believer on his forehead. “I will look forward to having him as a colleague when he’s eighteen, sir. More than you can know.”

  “Whole family so sorry for Nicolae. Great man. Great man.”

  “I’ll pass along your sentiments to the supreme commander.”

  “I meet supreme commander!”

  “Have you?”

  “No! I want meet!”

  “I’m sorry, but we have been asked not to arrange any more personal meetings for him this week. You understand. Too many requests.”

  “Special seat! You arrange special seat?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. That would be diff—”

  Mr. Wong shook his head as his wife took his arm as if to calm him. “No meet at airport. No meet supreme commander. Way back in line. You get us up front?”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “No! You get special seat for funeral. We want in courtyard.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “You see now. Tell us now. Take us now.”

  David sighed and got on the phone. “Yes, Margaret, do we have anymore VIP seating at all? . . . I know . . . I know . . . three.”

  “No! Daughter sit with us too. And you! Five.”

  “Five, Margaret . . . I know. I’m in a bit of a bind here. I’ll owe you . . . just inside the court? That sounds fine, but I’m expected with administrative personnel in the—”

  “We sit with you! You can do! Four join you in good seat.”

  “I’m having trouble appeasing him, Margaret. . . . It’s not your problem, no. . . . Yes, it’s mine. What’s the best you can do? . . . He did? Well, there you go. We can kill two birds, as they say. I owe you. . . . I know. Thanks, Margaret.”

  David turned back to them. “It seems the sculptor wrongly arranged for his assistants to sit with him in the management section, and the supreme commander’s office is going to reverse that.”

  “I no understand. We sit there?”

  “Yes. The sculptor is going to be ‘honored’ by standing next to the statue and having his assistants with him.”

  “We sit with you or not?”

  “Yes, you sit with me.”

  “Good! Daughter too?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good! Her new friend here too?” he pressed, pointing at Annie.

  “Ah, no. I wish.”

  “I really can’t, Mr. Wong,” Annie said. “I must stay here during the ceremony.”

  “OK, us then.”

  In the wee hours of Sunday morning, Rayford barreled in to Palwaukee Airport in a cloud of dust. The place was deserted except for a light in the tower. The only lit runway was one that accommodated jets. Rayford laid his head on the steering wheel. “I just pray we’re doing the right thing,” he said. “To have been so close to the safe house and not check on Tsion and Kenny . . .”

  Leah leaned forward. “And yet if the GC nose around there and don’t discover the underground, we might give our people away by showing up.”

  “I know,” he said, “but I just—”

  “No!” Chloe said. “Dad’s right. We need to take our chances and get there and get them out. You know what the GC are doing to Judah-ite sympathizers. They killed everybody in Chaim’s house and burned it. They killed Buck’s dad and brother and burned their place. What happens if they don’t find Tsion and Kenny but burn the place anyway, because it’s obvious we’d been living there? How would they get out? Tsion would come running right up into a burning house.”

  “Chloe,” Rayford said, “I feel like we should play out Albie’s scheme here, whatever it is.”

  “He can’t know our situation.”

  “Buck has filled him in. And he’s right that it makes no sense for some of us to go to the safe house while others wait here for a ride. This way, if it’s obvious the GC haven’t been there yet, we need to get what we can and get out of there. That’ll make eight of us, including the baby, so we won’t have room for much else.”

  “Surely Tsion will think to bring the computers and necessities.”

  Rayford nodded.

  “I’d better call him one more time,” Chloe said. “He may not think to bring the notebooks with the co-op stuff.”

  “You don’t have that on your computer?” Leah said.

  Chloe gave her a look. “I always keep hard-copy backups.”

  “But you’ve got it on disks too, right?”

  Chloe sighed and ignored her. And phoned Tsion.

  David let the Wong family pile into the two-seat golf cart, first pointing Ming Toy to the front seat next to him and Dad, Mom, and Chang to the back bench. But Mr. Wong wouldn’t budge, muttered something about “seat of honor,” and Ming joined her mother and brother in the back. Mr. Wong sat straight, chest out, with a solemnly proud look as David carefully steered the cart through the throng toward the palace courtyard.

  “They are not seating dignitaries until 11:30,” David said. “They’ll begin with the ten regional potentates and their entourages, then headquarter management personnel and their guests.”

  “They seat you right away,” Mr. Wong said confidently. “And we with you.”

  “They’ll follow protocol.”

  “I talk to Supreme Commander Leon Fortunato. He make sure we seat right away.”

  “He’s greeting dignitaries and getting set for the processional now, Mr. Wong. Let’s just get to the staging area, and I’m sure they’ll accommodate us in due time.”

  “I want sit now, good view, ready for program.” He turned and grabbed his son’s knee. “This spectacular, ay? You work here someday, make proud, serve Global Community. Honor memory of Carpathia.”

  Chang did not respond.

  “I know you want to, Son. You not know how say it. Be patriot like me. Duty. Honor. Service.”

  David pulled up to a corral area where lesser dignitaries were already being led to a line that would eventually fill the VIP area. Manning the gate was Ahmal, a man from David’s department.

  “We’ll take care of the cart,” Ahmal
said. “You and your guests wait under the canopy by section G.”

  “Thanks, Ahmal.”

  “You no introduce! You rude host!”

  “My apologies,” David said. He introduced the family, emphasizing Mr. Wong’s support of the GC.

  “An honor, sir,” Ahmal said, raising a brow at David.

  “We sit now.”

  “No, sir,” Ahmal said. “You’re being asked to wait in line at section—”

  “Big supporter of Carpathia, Fortunato, GC no wait in line. No one sitting in seats. We sit there now.”

  “Oh, sir, I’m sorry. There’ll be a processional. Very nice. Music. You all file in.”

  “No! Sit now!”

  “Father,” Ming said, “it will be better, nicer, to come in all at the same time.”

  Mrs. Wong reached for her husband’s arm, but he wrenched away. “I go sit! You no want sit now, you stay! Where seat?”

  Ahmal looked to David, who shook his head.

  “Mr. Ahmal! Check sheet! Where I sit?”

  “Well, you’re going to be in D-three, sir, but no one—”

  “I sit,” he said, pushing past, daring someone to stop him.

  “He’s only going to embarrass himself,” David said. “Let him go.”

  Mr. Wong caused a stir in the crowd when he moved up the steps to the permanent amphitheater seating and began looking for his chair. Even people at the viewing platform were distracted and looked to see who was being seated already. Assuming he was someone important, some applauded, causing others to do the same. Soon everyone was aware that an Asian was in the VIP section, and they shaded their eyes to see if they recognized him.

  “Must be the Asian States potentate,” someone near David said.

  Mr. Wong acknowledged the crowd with a nod and a bow.

  “He old fool,” Mrs. Wong said, and her son and daughter erupted into laughter. “We wait with Mr. Director Hassid.”

  “I’m afraid I’ll have to join you later,” David said. “Will you be all right?”

  Mrs. Wong looked lost, but Ming took her hand and assured David they would be fine.