The Left Behind Collection: All 12 Books

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The Left Behind Collection: All 12 Books Page 310

by Tim LaHaye

“All my father and I wanted to do was what Paul had done. Receive. Receive that truth by which Paul said we could be saved. We didn’t know what to say or do, so we just prayed and told God we believed it and wanted to receive it. It was weeks before we read enough and knew enough to understand what we had done and what it all meant. Father finally found in the back of the New Testament a guide to salvation that talked about accepting and believing and confessing. We studied what it called the road to salvation—all those verses that tell that all have sinned and come short of the glory of God, that the wages of sin is death, but that the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.”

  Chang sat looking at her. “It’s always something different,” he said. “I can’t tell you how many stories I’ve heard about people becoming believers, and each one is unique. I mean, they all get to the same place, but for some it was the disappearances. For you, it was your mother, really.”

  “We just can’t wait to see her again, Chang. And it won’t be long.”

  Chloe couldn’t tell whether she had actually been dozing or was just zoned out when Florence made a loud entrance about midnight. She unceremoniously poked the energy bar through the cage and let it drop. Chloe wanted to leap on it, tear it open, and gobble it down, but her pride was still working. She turned to look, but she didn’t move.

  “Dinner, honey,” Florence said. “I recommend a white wine, like tap water.”

  Chloe didn’t move until she left. She ate half the bar, which was flat and tasteless. But Chloe had always been told the greatest seasoning was hunger. She wrapped the rest, determined to save it for breakfast. But the few calories she had just ingested merely triggered her appetite. She was able to hold out for about another half hour, then ate the rest.

  Though she was still hungry, the bar had taken enough of the edge off that she was able to doze. She dreamed first of her family. Buck and Kenny were close enough to smell, but she couldn’t reach to hold them, to touch or kiss them. Then images danced of their horrified faces, repulsed by her. Did she have the mark? Was she hideously ugly? They grimaced and turned away.

  Chloe ran to a mirror and found herself headless. She fainted, and when she hit the floor, she woke up. She sat on the cot, her face in her hands, rocking. This was going to be harder than she had ever imagined. She would not for an instant be fooled or even tortured into giving the GC an iota of what they wanted. She just prayed that if she was not going to be sprung somehow—and she couldn’t imagine how anyone could pull that off—her execution would be quick.

  “I’ve come to a hard decision, Buck,” Rayford said. It was two o’clock in the morning in the underground compound. Rayford sat with Buck in Rayford’s quarters, where Buck would spend the night. Ming was staying at his and Chloe’s place so Kenny could be in his own bed. Sebastian and a young associate were on watch.

  “I don’t want to hear it, do I?” Buck said.

  “Probably not. But for some reason God put me in this position, and even though I’m biased and have almost as much vested interest as you do, I need to take leadership on this one. Mac is asleep. When he is fully rested, he’s going to Wisconsin to pick up Zeke. He’ll drop him in Petra to start work on our next assignment.”

  Buck hung his head. “Our next assignment is not right here?”

  “Hear me out. Mac is going to go on to clear out of Al Basrah and move to Petra. On the way I’ll have him call Otto Weser, the guy I told you about. He’ll be in the palace and should be able to dig up what’s going on in Al Hillah. Carpathia’s assistant knows Nicolae’s planning a meeting in Baghdad of the ten heads of state from around the world. We believe that’s when he’ll add all the other regions’ manpower to the armies he’s already marshaling in Israel.”

  “Dad, I’m sorry, but I don’t really care about anywhere but right here at the moment. It looks like everything is coming together for all kinds of activity over there, but meanwhile, we’re hanging Chloe out to dry.”

  “Buck, we’ve both been without sleep way too long. Believe me, I’ve done as much crying and praying and worrying as you have, which is—”

  “I doubt that.”

  “—exhausting. I need to rest, and so do you.”

  “Dad, I’m not going to be able to sleep.”

  “I didn’t say anything about sleeping. Get your clothes off, stretch out, put your feet up. Give your body a break even if you can’t turn your brain off. We need you sharp, Buck.”

  “You’re telling me I’m not going out with George tonight.”

  “I’m not even letting George go, Buck. Talk about somebody we don’t want to burn out. He’s got a good team that can track the GC if they show tonight. All we want to know is where they’re starting their canvasing. I’m impressed that people have already started packing, getting ready to go. Lionel’s got planes and pilots lined up. We have to be ready to go at a moment’s notice.”

  Buck leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “I trust you, Dad, and I know you have Chloe’s and my best interests at heart. But I don’t get this. When do we start scoping out headquarters, figuring how to get in there or how to get next to somebody who would know something about the place?”

  “You and I can see how close we can get tomorrow night. If George is available, we’ll take him.”

  “But time’s wasting.”

  Rayford sat back and sighed. “Job one with me is conserving resources, and that includes human ones. Our minds tell us we have energy because we can think of nothing else, but running on adrenaline like that will wear us down quicker, make us rash, ineffective. Trust me on this, Buck. I want her out of there as much as you do, but she’s not the only person we’re accountable for.”

  “But I want to know as soon as the reconnaissance party knows anything about—”

  “No, now I’ve left word that we are not to be disturbed until midmorning except in an emergency.”

  “Dad!”

  “Knowing something you can’t act on right away anyway is no help. Now no more talk. Let’s get some rest.”

  Like everyone else in Petra at high noon, Chang preferred working inside. He had discovered, through much trial and error, that he was able to tap into everything in New Babylon from where he was. The problem was, all the decision makers were gone to Al Hillah. When the plan to beat them there and bug the place had fizzled, he had been assigned to come up with a way that Otto Weser could feed him information. That all depended on what hardware might have been left that could be tapped from Petra.

  Chang worried that he might have become too obvious in his interest in Naomi, wanting to spend every spare minute with her. He decided not to assume anything and stayed at his computer over lunchtime. He was hungry, but he could also wait for the evening manna.

  Chang was thrilled when Naomi approached shyly with a basket. “Hey, workaholic,” she said. “Don’t go starving on me.”

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Brought you some honey wafers.”

  “Hail Carpathia” had become just part of the background for Chloe by now. She guessed it was about four o’clock in the morning. She had tried to keep her ears covered as she dozed, but when she drifted off, her hands fell away. That was why she heard the door and held her breath.

  From the heavy footsteps and the jangling keys, she could tell it was Florence. What could she want? It sounded as if she was close to the cage, and Chloe smelled food. A burger with all the trimmings. And the sound of a straw, probably in a cold soft drink. Right then it all hit Chloe as the nectar of the gods.

  She slowly turned and in the low light saw Florence sit on the floor and lean back against the cage. Chloe rested on one elbow and let out her breath.

  “You awake?” Florence said.

  “’Fraid so.”

  “Want me to turn off that music?”

  “Do you care what I want?”

  “Don’t be sassin’ me again.”

  “If you really want to know what I want, yes, I want the
music off.”

  “I’m not all bad, you know,” Florence said.

  She set next to the cage her half-eaten burger and soft drink and another tall paper cup with a lid and moved to the door. The music stopped.

  When Florence returned, Chloe said, “Thank you.”

  “Mm-hm,” she said, sliding to the floor again. “Just having a burger.”

  “So I gathered.”

  “Brought you something.”

  “You did not.”

  “See, why you wanna be that way all the time? Can’t a person do something nice for somebody?”

  “I wish.”

  “Well, your wish has been granted, if you like chocolate.”

  “Who doesn’t?”

  “How about a chocolate shake?”

  “I’m still dreaming, right? No more music, and now a chocolate shake in the middle of the night. What’s gotten into you?”

  “I told you. Ain’t all bad. Nobody is.”

  I can think of someone. “If you’re really going to give me a chocolate shake, all I can say is I’m grateful.”

  “I’m a mama too, you know.”

  “That so?”

  “Mm-hm. Brewster. Almost three.”

  “Have a picture?”

  “I do! You wanna see it, really?”

  “’Course I do.”

  “Jes’ a minute. Can’t get in trouble turning on the lights when it’s only just us.” She finished her meal, leaving the chocolate shake on the floor while throwing away the trash. Chloe wanted the shake so badly she trembled. Was it possible she could get next to this woman somehow, mother to mother?

  Florence went out again and turned on the lights. When she returned and shut the door, it clearly locked behind her, which Chloe had already learned was protocol. The shake was not going to fit through the mesh of the cage, so if the cage door was going to be open, of course the outer door could not be unlocked. But that also told Chloe that Florence was lying about being there alone. Otherwise, how would she get back out?

  “Now if I unlock this cage, which is totally against the rules, you’re not going to pay back my kindness by trying something, are you? I’m bigger and stronger than you, but even if you—”

  “Yeah, I know. Heard it from Jock. We’re still both locked in.”

  “Exactly.”

  “So if I behave and take the shake and you lock me back in here, how are you getting out?”

  “I buzz ’em, and they let me out.”

  “So we’re not really alone.”

  “Well, no, not after I buzz ’em.”

  “What if they see what you gave me?”

  “Then I’m in trouble, so if you want it, you better take it now.”

  “I want it.”

  “Stay right where you are. Don’t be standing up when this door opens, or I’ll be shutting it again.”

  Florence unlocked the cage, handed Chloe the shake, then quickly locked it again. It was the first time Chloe had noticed emotion in her. Florence looked excited, maybe scared. Maybe flush with the feeling of doing something nice when she wasn’t supposed to.

  Chloe sucked eagerly at the straw and was not disappointed. The shake was still cold, thick, rich, and—if anything—too chocolaty. Which, as she used to laugh about with her friends, was like saying something tasted too rich.

  Florence stood watching her. “Whoa, girl. ’Member you’re doing that on an empty stomach. Better pace yourself.”

  “I will. And I don’t want brain freeze.”

  Florence laughed.

  “And don’t forget to show me the picture of Brewster.”

  “Oh, I will. Soon as you’re finished.”

  Why not now? Chloe wondered as she attacked the straw again. The sugar and caffeine were going to keep her awake, but it wasn’t like she had anything to look forward to in the morning. Maybe Jock would show up and eat his breakfast in front of her again.

  “Jock,” she said, giggling.

  “What?” Florence said.

  “Eggs in front of me.”

  “What you going on about?”

  “Jock. Jack. Jick. Jeck . . .”

  “Hm?”

  Chloe was dizzy. The cup was slipping. She reached with her other hand to steady it, but the shake fell to the floor and splashed. It hit her as the greatest tragedy she could recall, and she began to weep.

  Her eyes were trying to shut. She forced herself to keep them open and deliberately lifted her chin so she could see Florence, who just stood watching. Florence pressed her buzzer. The outer door opened, and both Nigel and Jock entered, pushing a gurney.

  “I’ll get this cleaned up,” Florence said, unlocking the cage.

  “Great work, Flo,” Jock said. “Loved the bit about you having a kid.”

  “Oh, honey, they easy when they hungry.”

  CHAPTER 10

  Buck was awakened midmorning by soft but insistent knocking on Rayford’s door. He reached up from the foldout couch and opened it.

  “I was kinda hoping I’d wake your father-in-law,” Sebastian said.

  Suddenly Buck was wide awake. “What time is it?”

  “Almost 1000 hours.”

  “What’s the deal? What’d your guys find?”

  “Buck, I got to go through channels.”

  “What’re you, kidding me? You can’t tell me anything about my wife?”

  “I report to Rayford, Buck. So do you.”

  “You beat all, George. You know that?” Buck rocked himself up off the couch and banged on Rayford’s door. “Sebastian’s here with a briefing, Dad. Let’s go.”

  Rayford emerged, looking foggy. “Hey, guys,” he said. “How’d you sleep?”

  “Same way you did,” Buck said. “Now let’s get to this.”

  Buck stuffed sheets and blankets between the mattress and the back of the couch, closed it, and sat. Rayford joined him.

  “I have my guy in the hall,” Sebastian said. “Wanted to make sure you two were presentable.”

  “Your call,” Rayford said. “Here we sit in our Skivvies.”

  George opened the door. “Razor?” he said. “You’re on.”

  Razor was Hispanic, early twenties, and very military. He saluted everybody and Buck waved him off. “Come on, come on,” he said. “It’s just us. What’ve you got?”

  “Sirs, I was on watch, as you know, and noticed motion-detector activity at approximately 0300 hours. One of my team of three is a female, so I asked if she would check the periscope in the Williamses’ quarters, due to the fact that a female was in there alone—well, with a baby, and I didn’t want to breach protocol by—”

  “We know why, Mr. Razor,” Buck said. “Please.”

  “Yes, sir. She checked and reported enemy activity within two blocks of the compound and secured permission from Mrs. Toy for me to enter your domicile.”

  Buck glanced at Rayford, shook his head, and stared at the floor. For the love of all things sacred . . .

  “I personally observed similar activity and so marshaled my team. We went out in fatigues and greasepainted faces, armed with lightweight, high-powered automatic weapons. Our objective was to observe, get close enough to listen, if possible, and—if necessary—either defend the compound or somehow misdirect the enemy to a neutral area, thus giving the occupants of said compound—”

  “Time to evade,” Buck said. “Yeah, what happened?”

  “We observed two separate platoons of GC canvassing the area; however, they appeared to have started about two blocks west of us and were proceeding in a westerly direction.”

  “Meaning they were moving away from us rather than toward us?”

  “Yes, sir, but that is not all entirely good news. Observing their direction and relative speed, we were able to flank them, and the two of my party on their south side had enough flora-and-fauna coverage to get close enough to hear them. They came away with the distinct impression that the objective for that particular mission was to begin where they had recently
left off—in my estimation, Mr. Williams, what you and Mr. Sebastian had observed approximately twenty-four hours before—and were to survey a wide area leading to where Mrs. Williams was apprehended.”

  “I’m praying you followed them to that point,” Buck said.

  “We did, sir. We also overheard them saying that tomorrow night at the same time, they would be backtracking and going past where they started, which obviously would include our compound again. We expect them to be quite thorough, and thus if at all possible, we should be evacuated before 0200 hours tomorrow.”

  “You have informed the right people, and the move is on pace?”

  “Yes, sir, but there’s more. Near where they indicated Mrs. Williams was apprehended, our people recovered her Uzi and ski mask.”

  “What’s that tell you, Buck?” Sebastian said.

  “She ditched them.”

  “But we also—at least my people—heard two GC discussing her disposition.”

  It was all Buck could do to contain himself. “Please, Officer Razor, tell me what you heard about the disposition of my wife.”

  “They seemed to indicate that she was to be moved, sir.”

  “When?”

  “Within the hour, sir. Something about getting it done before Carpathia starts calling for troops from this region.”

  “Back to the ‘within the hour’ business, Razor,” Buck said. “Within an hour from now or then?”

  “Then, sir.”

  “All right, quit with the ‘sir’ stuff, please. I know you were in the military, but I wasn’t and it makes me crazy. You’re telling me Chloe was to be moved at about four this morning?”

  “Yes, s—”

  “To where?”

  “The best my people could gather, s—Mr. Williams, was ‘somewhere back east.’”

  “Somewhere back east.” Buck stood and held his open palms to Rayford and George. “They moved her somewhere back east, which implies an aircraft—” he looked at his watch—“going on six hours ago. Tell me, Razor, did anyone think to get to GC headquarters and see if there was a chance to abort this move?”

  “No, sir.”

  “No one thought this might be an emergency worth waking Mr. Steele or Sebastian or me?”

 

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