by Tim LaHaye
A missile was streaking right at the chopper. Rayford tried to evade it, knowing that was hopeless. A whirlybird simply didn’t have the maneuverability or speed to dodge a missile.
“My idea and a bad one, George. Sorry.”
“Just stay away from the city, Ray!”
Rayford had toyed with the idea of dropping onto a high place, but if the missile tracked him, it could injure or kill more than just the two of them.
He banked and let the chopper roll out past where Petra troops were stationed, which only brought him face-to-face with the missile that much faster.
“Sorry, Priscilla,” Rayford muttered, shutting his eyes as the warhead met the chopper.
It didn’t make sense to Buck that he should get to the rendezvous point before Tsion, despite the difference in their ages. Buck figured Tsion had started from at least twice as close. He searched the crowded church, but once again, no Tsion. This was getting old.
“Herod’s Gate!” someone shouted, and hundreds of rebels headed toward the northernmost gate in the city. It was amazing to see the zeal in their eyes when their ancient holy sites were threatened. That had to be where Tsion went too. Buck couldn’t think of another option.
It was just over an eighth of a mile from the church, but there was no running this time. Buck found himself pressed on all sides, wall-to-wall rebels. Maybe it was for the best. He was exhausted already, and his pulse raced uncontrollably.
He couldn’t call Tsion if the rabbi’s phone was dead. All he could think to do was bend his knees occasionally and leap high enough to see over the crowd.
But when he spotted Tsion Ben-Judah, he didn’t like where he found him.
CHAPTER 21
The chopper shuddered and stayed on course.
“Thought we were goners,” Rayford said. “I never get used to that.”
“Where’d that missile go?”
“Right through us, as usual.”
“Nothing usual about that,” Sebastian said. He scanned the horizon. “Over there.”
Rayford saw a plume of black smoke about a mile south of Petra.
“They may have hit their own people!” George said and got on his radio. “Big Dog 1 to southern perimeter, over.”
“Mac here, Dog. What was that?”
“Just missed us. What did it do?”
“Found one of their transports just beyond the equestrian line. Had to have some casualties. They look pretty exercised.”
“Wait till they find out it was friendly fire. Attention all DEW operators, open fire immediately!” George ordered.
Within seconds, the black rim of horses and horsemen surrounding Petra disintegrated, and steeds charged away in all directions.
“A masterpiece, George,” Rayford said. “Well done.”
“Some of that horse meat is probably well done. Hey, Ray, did I hear you mention my wife’s name when we were about to buy it?”
“Guilty.”
“What’s that about?”
“I told her I’d look out for you as much as was possible.”
“And that’s your idea of looking out for me?”
“As much as was possible. What say we bounce back up and see if we can get them to shoot at us again, maybe take out some more of their munitions on the other side?”
“Not funny, Rayford.”
Every time Buck leaped over the heads of the crowd, he caught sight of Tsion being borne along on the shoulders of zealots. He wanted to scream at them to put him down, but no one would be able to hear above the din. What were they trying to do, get him killed? Maybe they saw him as a hero. Maybe they thought by getting him to the head of the pack he could inspire the troops. Regardless, it was insanity.
Buck lowered his shoulder and bulled his way through until he was almost up to Tsion. “Hey!” he shouted. “Hey! Put him down!”
“He will lead us to victory!”
“He is our leader!”
“Well, he’s my responsibility, and you’re going to get him killed!”
Buck grabbed Tsion’s ankle, which slowed the crowd, and as they lost their grip, Tsion tumbled headfirst. Buck dived beneath him to break his fall, and now both of them were being trampled. It was providential, however, as Unity Army troops had scaled the wall above Herod’s Gate and opened fire. Rebels fell all around Tsion and Buck, heads slamming the ground, blood spattering.
Buck wrapped his arms around Tsion’s head and buried his own, waiting out the fusillade. With the zing of bullets ricocheting and the explosion of the pavement around him, he tensed for the killing round that would hit his or Tsion’s head or neck or spine.
But they were spared.
When the burst let up, Buck dragged Tsion to his feet and hustled him toward the legendary healing pool of Bethesda. “I was not hit, Cameron! No need for healing!”
Millimeters from death and the rabbi jokes.
Rayford and George landed and were racing down to George’s post via ATV. “They’ve got to retaliate,” Rayford said. “What form will that take, and what do we do?”
“They’ve got mortar launchers in range. I want to see if the riders can persuade their horses to return. If they can’t, that’s going to be chaos. The key is keeping them out of the Siq. I don’t want a one of ’em thinking he can infiltrate this place.”
“You’d think Carpathia would have learned his lesson. Imagine how much money he wasted trying to get at us here,” Rayford said.
“Yeah, but every military commander thinks he’s better than anybody else, so whoever’s in charge of this offensive is going to have to learn for himself.”
“The DEWs and his own missile should have taught him something.”
“Should have,” George said. “But you can bet he’ll try everything in his arsenal before he gives up.”
“What would be the hardest to defend against?”
“Sheer numbers. When they start rolling this way, we’re going to be chased back inside.”
“Where, so far, it’s been safe.”
“True. But retreating is not my idea of warfare. That missile was God’s protection, but wasn’t it fun to attack with the directed energy weapons?”
A young woman gestured frantically from a small cavelike structure near the pools, and Buck hustled Tsion to her. “There is room for two more,” she said.
As they pushed their way in to safety, Buck realized about twenty others were in the echoing chamber. “Is it the rabbi?” someone called out.
“I am here,” Tsion said.
“Praise God. When do you expect Messiah?”
“Actually, I expected him about five minutes ago. Or maybe I should say he should have been expecting me.”
“I want to believe he is coming to save the day and rescue us.”
“He is if you are ready,” Tsion said.
“I am ready. I just want to be alive when he gets here.”
“So do I,” Tsion said. “But we did not choose the best place to ensure that, did we?”
“What is this talk of Messiah?” someone grumbled. “We have been waiting for him to rescue us for generations.”
Tsion ran through his teaching as fast as he could. Three of the terrified men and the young woman prayed to accept Jesus as Messiah, but the skeptic did not. “When he comes,” he said, “I will believe.”
“‘Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed,’” Tsion said.
The gunfire suddenly ceased. Buck peered out past the woman. Was this it? Had Messiah returned and saved the day?
Young men raced by, screaming. “We have won! We have won! They are pulling back! The gates are secure!”
“Wait! It’s a trap! Don’t believe it! They are just regrouping!”
Buck and Tsion’s bunker mates piled out and warily looked around, weapons at the ready. “I don’t like it,” someone said. “They have bombs that could annihilate us. What are they doing?”
“Toying with us.”
“We should go on th
e offensive! Open the gates and attack! Kill them while they are retreating.”
“They are not retreating. This is a trap. They want us to open the gates. We should regroup while they are regrouping. Be ready for them.”
There was a lull at Petra too, and Rayford took a call from Mac McCullum. “Can you and Razor spare me a minute, George?” Rayford said. “Mac wants me to come and see something.”
It was half an hour’s ride by all-terrain vehicle to get to Mac, and when Rayford arrived, Mac was studying the enemy through powerful field glasses. “You know they can see us plain as day by now, Ray, just like we can see them. What are they waitin’ on?”
He handed Rayford the binoculars. “Looks like they’ve got most of the horses under control. That must have been a mess. And I know, Ray, that our DEWs caused the stampede. But what’s making them squirrelly now? I don’t get it.”
Rayford studied the enemy in the distance. It didn’t appear it was as simple as horses being shy of where they had been burned. They weren’t even close to that. It was more like the riders could not get the horses to do anything they wanted them to.
“It reminds me of a verse, Ray. Something Tsion taught us. What was it?”
“I don’t recall. Want to ask him? I need to check in on him and Buck anyway.”
The silence was more than eerie. Buck and Tsion moved close to the wall by Herod’s Gate. Buck answered the phone and handed it to Tsion.
“Yes, here too,” Tsion said. “I have the strange feeling it is the lull before the storm. Horses? Yes. Zechariah 12:4: ‘“In that day,” says the Lord, “I will strike every horse with confusion, and its rider with madness; I will open My eyes on the house of Judah, and will strike every horse of the peoples with blindness.”’ You know, Mac, that may be what has happened here too.”
As soon as Tsion was off the phone, people around him wanted to know what he was talking about. He told them.
“Let’s check it out,” one said. “The rabbi believes the Unity Army is blind or mad.”
“Could be,” Tsion said. “That is the only explanation I can think of for what is going on.”
Some of the younger men boosted each other and began climbing. Two reached the top of the wall. “I see nothing! They’re hiding, maybe.”
“Rabbi! Teach us some more.”
Buck looked to Tsion, who shrugged. “That is why I came. If they want to listen, I want to preach.”
As soon as he began, curious crowds gathered again. And as Buck watched and listened, he was overcome with the privilege of being where he was and when it was. He sensed he could see Jesus at any time. And Chloe.
To hear God’s man in God’s place at God’s time—what an unspeakable privilege. Scared? Of course he was. Wondering if Jesus would really come when he said he would? Not even a question. Buck couldn’t wait. He just couldn’t wait.
Back with George, Rayford was out of ideas. “Don’t ask me,” he said. “If you want to fire the Fifties, fire them.”
“I know we could kill horses and men from this distance and take out a few of their vehicles,” George said. “But I also know that would bring return fire. I’m not concerned about inside the city. But I’m afraid we’re vulnerable out here at the perimeter.”
“What would be the purpose of going on the offensive when you know you can’t win?”
“Exactly. But I just hate sitting here, waiting for stuff to happen. We need to make something happen.”
“Fire a Fifty or two and plenty will happen.”
One of the young men on the wall interrupted Tsion, yelling, “They’re raising some kind of a giant bullhorn. Maybe they want to negotiate.”
“You don’t want to negotiate with the devil,” Tsion said, and the crowd roared.
“Maybe he’s offering a truce!”
“A truce,” Tsion said, “is worth the character of the man on the other side of the table.”
“Attention, people of Jerusalem! This is your supreme potentate!”
“Boo! Boo! Our only potentate is the God of Israel!”
“Shut up! Hear him out!”
“Please listen, citizens. I come in peace.”
“No! You come with weapons!”
“Come, let us reason together!”
“Listen. Shh! Listen to him!”
“I come to offer pardon. I am willing to compromise. I wish you no ill. If you are willing to serve me and be obedient, you shall eat the good of the land; but if you refuse and rebel, you shall be devoured by the sword. I will rid myself of my adversaries and take vengeance on my enemies. I will turn my hand against you and thoroughly purge you.
“But it does not have to be this way, citizens of the Global Community. If you will lay down your arms and welcome me into your city, I will guarantee your peace and safety.
“This will be your sign to me. If at the count of three I hear silence for fifteen seconds, I will assume you are willing to accede to my requests. A single gunshot into the air during that time will be your signal that you would rather oppose me. But I warn you, half of Jerusalem is in captivity already. The entire city could be overthrown easily within an hour. The choice is yours at the count of three.”
But before Carpathia could utter the first number, thousands of weapons fired into the air, including Buck’s and Tsion’s.
The enemy’s attempt to control the horses and surround Petra was still not working. Rayford stood on a precipice and watched through binoculars as more Unity vehicles were deployed. The horizon was full of dust and smoke, and the mass of munitions and hardware looked like a black, roiling mass, filling his vision and oozing toward him like lava.
“I’m going to let them advance only so far,” George said. “Then it’s DEWs again and fifty-calibers.”
“Like trying to dam a tsunami with BBs,” Rayford said.
When the shooting stopped in Jerusalem, the ghostly silence returned. The One World Unity Army did not immediately attack, but Buck almost wished they had. The quiet was disquieting. He feared the next sound would be the proverbial freight train that tornado victims always mentioned, only this twister would consist of an unending horde of marauders who would stomp Jerusalem to dust.
But if that’s what it took to usher in Jesus, well, bring it on.
Strangely, the crowd wanted to hear more from Tsion, and Buck was impressed that the rabbi was ready. “It is not too late!” Tsion cried. “Make your stand for Messiah now! Repent, choose, and be saved!” And many did.
Now even Sebastian seemed alarmed. The massive flow of horses, men, and weaponry advancing toward Petra was so enormous that as it spread and separated and filled in again, it blocked out the horizon, the desert sands, the rocks.
It was as if a cloud of locusts were blotting out the sun. No human could have imagined the scope of the enemy. They had somehow rallied, somehow overcome their madness and blindness, somehow broken out of their lull. And here they came.
They fanned out and flanked Petra on all sides, slowly filling in as far as the eye could see. And while their front lines were still a mile or so from the perimeter, there was no end to the swarm. The eye could not reach the back of column after column after column of millions strong that kept coming and coming and coming.
And when they were in place, they merely stopped and waited. For what was anybody’s guess. But even when they stopped, there was no gap, no holes in their coverage, no end of their ranks.
“That, Rayford,” Sebastian said, “is just a whole lot of army. If every one of our weapons fired every one of its bullets and each one was a flat-out kill, we wouldn’t put a dent in that wave.”
“What do you think about riding out there about a half mile and seeing if you can smoke a peace pipe with somebody?”
“You watch too much TV, Captain.”
“Seriously, how about another round of DEW rays? See if we can push ’em back a bit.”
“If I thought they’d react like dominoes I would. There really isn’t far for them t
o go, because they’ll run into their own replacements. Think we can get millions to stampede?”
Rayford shook his head. “I wouldn’t mind seeing what that would do to them. Maybe they wouldn’t be so eager to get closer.”
“But, Ray, there’s so many of them.”
Tsion was still holding forth when a sound like a bomb shook the area, and people scattered for cover. Within seconds came the report that a second battering ram had penetrated the Old City. This time the Unity Army had eschewed any gate and had broken through the northeastern wall of the Old City, about halfway between the Lion’s Gate and the northeast corner.
Hundreds of Jewish rebels raced toward the site, and to Buck’s dismay Tsion took off behind them, not even discussing options. Buck had no choice but to follow, trying to catch Tsion in the melee. By the time he caught up, the battle was in full swing, and amazingly, the Jews seemed to have the upper hand again. They were pushing the army back, and fierce hand-to-hand combat over the battering ram almost saw it fall into rebel hands again.
Just as the rebellion was forcing the army back through the wall, several on the Unity front line turned and opened fire with high-powered automatic weapons, a grenade launcher, and what looked to Buck like a bazooka. He joined in returning fire, and the invasion was briefly squelched, but he was horrified to see more than a hundred dead or wounded Israelis all around him. He wondered how close he had come to deadly fire himself.
The hole in the wall seemed to be secure for the moment, so Buck turned to grab Tsion and pull him back toward the Bethesda pool. But the rabbi was on his knees, feet tucked awkwardly beneath him. His Uzi had slipped off his shoulder, the strap near his elbow now, the weapon dragging.
Buck grabbed the shoulder of his jacket to help him up, but when he pulled, Tsion pivoted on one knee and flopped to the pavement. “Tsion! Come on! Let’s go!”
But he was a deadweight.
“Are you all right?” Buck demanded, turning Tsion’s face toward him.
“I do not think so, friend.”
