Apollyon

by Tim LaHaye

  “From a small band of fundamentalists, who believe they were somehow stranded here because they were not good enough to go the first time, has sprung up a cult of some substance. Made up mostly of former Jews who now have decided that Jesus is the Messiah they have been looking for all their lives, they follow a converted rabbi named Tsion Ben-Judah. Dr. Ben-Judah, you may recall, was once a respected scholar who so blasphemed his own religion on an international television broadcast that he had to flee his home country.

  “I come to you tonight from the very studio where Dr. Ben-Judah desecrated his own heritage. While in exile, he has managed to brainwash thousands of like-minded megalomaniacs so desperate for something to belong to that they have become his marionette church. Using a feel-good psychological approach to morality, Dr. Ben-Judah has used the Internet for his own gain, no doubt fleecing his flock for millions. In the process he has invented an us-against-them war in which you, my brothers and sisters, are ‘them.’ The ‘us’ in this charade call themselves true believers, saints, sealed ones—you name it.

  “For months I have ignored these harmless holdouts to world harmony, these rebels to the cause of a unified faith. While advisers urged me to force their hand, I believed tolerance was in order. Though Dr. Ben-Judah continually challenged all we stand for and hold dear, I maintained a policy of live and let live. When he invited tens of thousands of his converts to meet in the very city that had exiled him, I decided to rise above personal affronts and allow it.

  “In a spirit of acceptance and diplomacy, I even publicly assured Dr. Ben-Judah’s safety. Though I was well aware that the Global Community and I as its head were the avowed enemies of this cult, I believed the only right and proper thing to do was to encourage its mass meeting. I confess it was my hope that in so doing these zealots would see that there was value in compromise and tolerance and that they would one day choose to align themselves with Enigma Babylon. But it would have had to have been their choice. I would not have forced their hand.

  “And how was my magnanimity rewarded? Was I invited to the festivities? Asked to welcome the delegates? Allowed to bring a greeting or take part in any of the pageantry?

  “No. Through private diplomatic channels I was able to secure the promise that Dr. Ben-Judah would not restrict my presence or prohibit my attendance. I traveled to Israel at my own expense, not even burdening Global Community finances, and dropped in to say a few words at what has been called the Meeting of the Witnesses.

  “My supreme commander was met with the rudeness of utter silence, though he comported himself with élan regardless. The most revered Supreme Pontiff Peter the Second, the pope of popes as it were, was received in no less a quietly hostile manner, despite being a fellow clergyman. No doubt you agree this had to have been a well-planned and executed mass response.

  “When I myself addressed the crowd, though they were still obeying their mind-controlling leader and not responding, I sensed they wanted to. I had the clear feeling, and a public speaker develops antennae for these things, that the crowd was with me, was sympathetic, was embarrassed by their leader and wanted to welcome me as warmly as I was welcoming them.

  “Though Dr. Ben-Judah was ostensibly ignoring me from just a few feet away, he somehow signaled someone to release some sort of agent in the air, an invisible dust or powder that instantly parched my throat and resulted in a powerful thirst.

  “I should have been suspicious when I was immediately presented with a bottle from someone in the crowd. But as a trusting person, used to being treated as I treat others, I naturally assumed an unknown friend had come to my aid.

  “What a disappointment to have been callously ambushed by a bottle of poisonous blood! It was such an obvious public assassination attempt that I called Dr. Ben-Judah on it right there. As a pacifist not skilled in warfare, I had played right into his hands. He had hidden in the crowd the two elderly lunatics from the Wailing Wall who have so offended the Jews in the Holy Land and have actually murdered several people who have attempted to engage them in debate. With hidden microphones turned louder than the one I was using, they shouted me down with threats and turned my humble act of diplomacy into a fiasco.

  “I was whisked away for medical attention, only to find that had I swallowed what they gave me, I would have died instantly. Needless to say, this is an act of high treason, punishable by death. Now, let me say this. My wish is that we still come together in a spirit of peace and harmony. Let it be said that these words from the Scriptures came first in this context from me: ‘Come now, and let us reason together.’

  “There is no doubt in my mind that the whole of this ugly incident was engineered and carried out by Dr. Ben-Judah. But as a man of my word and lacking any physical evidence that would tie him to the assassination attempt, I plan to allow the meetings to continue for the next two nights. I will maintain my pledge of security and protection.

  “Dr. Ben-Judah, however, shall be exiled again from Israel within twenty-four hours of the end of the meeting the night after tomorrow. Israeli authorities are insisting on this, and I would urge Dr. Ben-Judah to comply, if for no other reason than his own safety.

  “As for the two who call themselves Eli and Moishe, let this serve as public notification to them as well. For the next forty-eight hours, they shall be restricted to the area near the Wailing Wall, where they have posted themselves for so long. They are not to leave that area for any purpose at any time. When the meetings in the stadium have concluded, Eli and Moishe must leave the Temple Mount area. If they are seen anywhere outside their area of quarantine in the next forty-eight hours or in the Temple Mount area after that time, I have ordered that they be shot on sight.

  “Some eyewitnesses have testified that the murders they have committed might somehow be convoluted into some sort of self-defense. I reject this and am exercising my authority as potentate to deny them trial. Let me be clear: Their appearance anywhere but near the Wailing Wall for forty-eight hours or their showing their faces in public anywhere in the world after that shall be considered reason to kill. Any Global Community officer or private citizen is authorized to shoot to kill.

  “I know you will agree that this is a most generous response to an ugly attack and that allowing the meetings to continue proves a spirit of accommodation. Thank you, my friends, and good night from Israel.”

  Rayford looked up as Ken Ritz rocked back and slapped his thighs. “I don’t know about you boys,” Ritz said, “but I got me some tinkerin’ to do. For one thing, I gotta find out how we can get us some of those millions the rabbi’s been fleecin’ off the flock. With none of us having any income anymore, we’re going to need some cash.”

  “You got a minute, Ray?” Floyd said, rising.

  “Sure, Doc.”

  They climbed the stairs, and Floyd bent over the sleeping Hattie for a moment. “Seems fine for now,” he said. “But can you imagine postpartum blues on top of what she’s already going through?”

  “You get that even with a miscarriage?”

  “It makes more sense with a miscarriage if you think about it.”

  Rayford turned off the TV and followed Floyd to the porch. They both carefully surveyed the horizon and listened before talking. Rayford had grown used to that since he’d arrived. At Global Community headquarters it was a matter of knowing whom you could talk to. Out here knowing you were not being spied on was paramount.

  “I’ve got a problem, Rayford, but I hardly know you.”

  “Friendships, acquaintances, everything has to necessarily be telescoped these days,” Rayford said. “You and I could live together the rest of our natural lives, and it would be less than five years. If you’ve got something on your chest, you might as well shoot. You want to criticize me, fire away. I can take it. My priorities are different than they used to be, needless to say.”

  “Aw, no, it’s nothing like that. In fact, I figure you’ve got cause to scold me a bit after today.”

  “For snapping at me i
n the heat of battle? Hey, I’ve done my share of that. In medical emergency situations, you’re in charge. You bark at whomever you have to bark at.”

  “Yeah, but even though I know Tsion is sort of our pastor, you’re the chief. I need you to know that I know that and respect it.”

  “There’s no time for hierarchy anymore, Doc. Now what’s on your mind?”

  “I’ve got a Hattie problem.”

  “We all do, Floyd. She was an attractive, bright girl once. Well, maybe more attractive than bright, but you’re seeing the worst of her just now, and I think she’s coming around. You might appreciate her more in a few weeks.”

  “Just so you know, I got the drift that she and you used to work together and that, while you never actually had an affair—”

  “Yeah, OK. Not proud of it, but I acknowledge it.”

  “Anyway, this isn’t about her being in a bad way and being so difficult. I’m moved by how you all seem to care so much for her and want her to become a believer.”

  Rayford sighed. “This business of her believing but not wanting to accept has me buffaloed. She’s even halfway logical about it. She’s not one who has to be convinced she’s unworthy, is she?”

  “She’s so convinced she refuses to accept what she knows is free.”

  “So, what’s your problem, Doc? You think she’s a lost cause spiritually?”

  Floyd shook his head. “I wish it was that easy. My problem makes zero sense. You said yourself there’s nothing attractive about this girl. It’s obvious that when she was healthy she was a knockout. But the poison has done its work, and the illness has taken its toll. She makes no sense when she talks, and spiritually she’s bankrupt.”

  “So you want to throw her out, and that makes you feel guilty?”

  Floyd stood and turned his back to Rayford. “No, sir. What I want is to love her. I do love her. I want to hold her and kiss her and tell her.” His voice grew quavery. “I care so much for her that I’ve convinced myself I can love her back to health in every way. Physically and spiritually.” He turned and faced Rayford. “Didn’t expect that one, did you?”

  As Buck and Chloe lay in bed, Buck said, “Will you be able to sleep if I go out for a while?”

  She sat up. “Out? It’s hardly safe.”

  “Carpathia is too focused on Eli and Moishe to worry about us right now. I want to see if I can find Jacov. And I want to see what the witnesses will do in response to Nicolae’s threats.”

  “You know what they’ll do,” she said, lying back down. “They’ll do what they want until the due time, and woe to the one who tries to make points with the potentate by trying to kill them before that.”

  “Just the same, I’d like—”

  “Do me this favor, Buck. Promise you won’t leave this place until I’m sound asleep. Then I’ll worry only when I have to, if you’re not here when I wake up in the morning.”

  Buck dressed and went looking to see if Tsion was still up. He wasn’t, but Rosenzweig was on the phone. “Leon, I insist on talking with Nicolae. . . . Yes, I know all about your cursed titles, and I remind you that I knew Nicolae as a friend before he was His Excellency and the potentate of this and that. Now please, put him on the phone. . . . Well, then you tell me what has happened to my driver!”

  Rosenzweig noticed Buck, motioned for him to sit, and hit the speaker button on the phone. Leon was in mid-threat. “Our intelligence sources tell us your man turned.”

  “Turned what? He’s not Jewish anymore? Not Israeli? Doesn’t work for me? What are you talking about? He’s been with me for years. If you know where he is, tell me and I will come get him.”

  “Dr. Rosenzweig, all due respect, sir, I’m telling you your man is one of them. We wanted GC guards to personally escort Rabbi Ben-Judah back to Jacov’s vehicle, but he came running from the stadium firing off a high-powered weapon. Who can say how many guards and innocent civilians were killed.”

  “I can. None. It would have been all over the news. I heard the same story. Your people were coming after Ben-Judah to exact revenge for the embarrassment to Nicolae and might have done who-knows-what to him if he had not slipped away on his own.”

  “He wasn’t on his own. He was with Buck Williams’s wife, who has proven to be an American subversive who escaped from one of our facilities in Minnesota, where she had been detained for questioning.” Rosenzweig glanced at Buck, who sat shaking his head slowly as if wondering where they dreamed up this stuff. Fortunato continued, “She was suspected of looting after the earthquake.”

  “Leon, is Jacov alive?” There was a pause. Rosenzweig grew irate. “I swear, Leon, if something has happened to that young man—”

  “Nothing has happened to him, Doctor. I’m trying to train you to address me properly.”

  “Oh, for the sake of heaven, Leon, are there not more important things to worry about right now? Like people’s lives!”

  “Supreme Commander, Dr. Rosenzweig.”

  “Supreme Nincompoop!” Rosenzweig shouted. “I am going out to search for my Jacov, and if you have any information that would help me, you’d better give it to me now!”

  “I don’t need to be spoken to that way by you, sir.”

  And Leon hung up.

  Rayford put an arm on Floyd’s shoulder as they went back into the house. “I’m no love counselor,” he said, “but you’re right when you say this one makes no sense. She’s not a believer. You’re old enough to know the difference between pity and love and between medical compassion and love. You hardly know her, and what you know is not that pretty. It doesn’t take a scientist to see that this is something other than what you think it is. You lonely? Lose a wife in the Rapture?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Better tell me about her.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Buck peeked in on Chloe before heading out with Chaim. She appeared sound asleep.

  “Do you mind driving?” Chaim asked. “It has been so long since I was allowed.”

  “Allowed?”

  Chaim smiled wearily. “Once you become, how shall I say it, a personality in this country, especially in this city, you are treated like royalty. I cannot go anywhere unescorted. I was not even famous when first you did the cover story on me.”

  “You were revered, however.”

  Chaim checked with his gateman, Jonas, for the latest word on Jacov. “Stefan?” Buck heard him say. Then something urgent and frustrated in Hebrew.

  Chaim directed Buck to the last stall in the garage, and Buck slid behind the wheel of an ancient sedan. “I don’t want everyone to know I am coming. The Mercedes is well known. You drive a stick shift, do you not?”

  Buck feathered the throttle and quickly caught on to the vagaries of the manual transmission. He worried more about the bald state of the tires. “Any idea where we’re going?”

  “Yes, I am afraid I do,” Chaim said. “Jacov is an alcoholic.”

  Buck shot him a double take. “You have an alcoholic as your driver?”

  “He’s dry. Recovering they call it. But in times of crisis, he reverts.”

  “Falls off the wagon?”

  “I do not know that expression.”

  “It’s an old Americanism. Early in the twentieth century the Women’s Christian Temperance Union would roll the Temperance Wagon into town, decrying the evils of alcohol and calling on offenders to give it up and get on the wagon. When a sober man went back to drinking, it was called falling off the wagon.”

  “Well, I’m afraid that is what has happened here,” Chaim said, pointing where Buck was to turn. As they moved into smaller neighborhoods with houses and buildings closer together, Buck began noticing things he hadn’t seen on the drive from Chaim’s to the stadium. Jerusalem had grown seedy. How he had loved to visit this city just a few years before! It had had its rundown areas, but overall it had been kept with pride. Since the disappearances, certain types of crime and lewd activity had sprung up that he never expected to see in public here. Drun
ks staggered along, some with their arms slung around ladies of the evening. As Buck drove farther into the city he saw strip clubs, tattoo parlors, fortune-telling shops, and triple-X-rated establishments.

  “What has happened to your city?”

  Chaim grunted and waved dismissively. “This is something about which I would love to speak to Nicolae. All that money spent on the new temple and moving the Dome of the Rock to New Babylon! Ach! This Peter the Second fellow wearing the funny costumes and welcoming the Orthodox Jew into the Enigma Babylon faith. I am not even a religious man, and I wonder at the folly of it. What is the point? The Jews have maintained for centuries that they worship the one true God, and this somehow now fits with a religion that accepts God as man and woman and animal and who knows what else? And you see what effect it has had on Jerusalem. Haifa and Tel Aviv are worse! The Orthodox are locked away in their gleaming new temple, slaughtering animals and going back to the literal sacrifices of centuries gone by. But what impact do they have on this society? None! Nicolae is supposed to be my friend. If he will see me, I will inform him of this, and things will change.

  “When my Jacov—a wonderful, spirited man, by the way—falls off the wagon, as you put it, he winds up on the same street in the same bar and in the same condition.”

  “How often does this happen?”

  “Not more than twice a year. I scold him, threaten him, have even fired him. But he knows I care for him. He and his wife, Hannelore, still grieve over two little ones they lost in the disappearances.”

  Buck was chagrined to realize he had pushed Jacov spiritually without getting to know him. He just hoped Chaim was wrong about Jacov and that they would not find him where the old man expected to.