Nicolae: The Rise of Antichrist

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Nicolae: The Rise of Antichrist Page 6

by Tim LaHaye


  “That would take a little digging.”

  “I can’t tell you how urgent this is, sir. Let me just say that it’s worth my developing a quick case of buyer’s remorse and returning the vehicle if I can’t get that number right now.”

  “One moment.”

  A couple of minutes later Buck dialed the number. It rang four times. “The mobile customer you have dialed is either away from the vehicle or out of the calling zone. Please try your call—”

  Buck slammed down the phone, picked it up, and hit the redial button. While listening to the ring, he was startled when the door burst open and Verna Zee mouthed, “Carpathia on the line for you.”

  “I’m gonna have to call him back!” Buck said.

  “You’re what?!”

  “Take a number!”

  “Dial 1-800-FIRED,” she said.

  Rayford was frantic. He forgot any pretense of doing anything but sitting there, and he stared straight ahead into the late afternoon sky, earphones firmly engaged and his left hand pressing the hidden button hard. He heard Carpathia’s aide: “Well, of all the—”

  “What?” Carpathia said.

  “I’m trying to get this Williams character on the line for you, and he’s told his girl there to take a number.”

  It was all Rayford could do to keep from calling Buck again himself, knowing for sure now that he was at the Chicago office. But if someone told Carpathia Buck couldn’t talk to him because he was on with Rayford Steele, that would be disastrous. He heard Carpathia’s reassuring voice again. “Just give him the number, my friend. I trust this young man. He is a brilliant journalist and would not keep me waiting without good reason. Of course, he is trying to cover the story of a lifetime, would you not agree?”

  Buck ordered Verna Zee to shut the door on her way out and to leave him alone until he was off the phone. She sighed heavily and shook her head, slamming the door. Buck continued to hit the redial button, hating the sound of that recorded announcement more than anything he had ever heard in his life.

  Suddenly the intercom came alive. “I’m sorry to bother you,” Verna said in a sickly sweet, singsong voice, “but you have yet another urgent phone call. Chaim Rosenzweig from Israel.”

  Buck punched the intercom button. “I’m afraid I’m gonna have to call him back, too. Tell him I’m very sorry.”

  “You should tell me you’re very sorry,” Verna said. “I’m tempted to patch him through anyway.”

  “I’m very sorry, Verna,” Buck said with sarcasm. “Now leave me alone, please!”

  The cell phone kept ringing. Buck hung up on the recorded message several times. Verna punched back in. “Dr. Rosenzweig says it’s a matter of life and death, Cameron.”

  Buck quickly punched into the blinking line. “Chaim, I’m very sorry, but I’m in the middle of an urgent matter here myself. Can’t I call you back?”

  “Cameron! Please don’t hang up on me! Israel has been spared the terrible bombings that your country has suffered, but Rabbi Ben-Judah’s family was abducted and slaughtered! His house has burned to the ground. I pray he is safe, but no one knows where he is!”

  Buck was speechless. He hung his head. “His family is gone? Are you sure?”

  “It was a public spectacle, Cameron. I was afraid it would come sooner or later. Why, oh why did he have to go public with his views about Messiah? It’s one thing to disagree with him, as I do, a respected and trusted friend. But the religious zealots in this country hate a person who believes that Jesus is Messiah. Cameron, he needs our help. What can we do? I have not been able to get through to Nicolae.”

  “Chaim, do me one huge favor and leave Nicolae out of this, please!”

  “Cameron! Nicolae is the most powerful man in the world, and he has pledged to help me and to help Israel and to protect us. Surely, he will step in and preserve the life of a friend of mine!”

  “Chaim, I’m begging you to trust me on this. Leave Nicolae out of it. Now I must call you back. I have family members in trouble myself!”

  “Forgive me, Cameron! Get back to me as soon as you can.”

  Buck punched in on his original line and hit redial again. As the numbers sounded in his ear, Verna came on the intercom. “Someone’s on the line for you, but since you don’t want to be bothered—”

  Chloe’s cell phone was busy! Buck slammed the phone down and punched in on the intercom. “Who is it?”

  “I thought you didn’t want to be bothered.”

  “Verna, I have no time for this!”

  “If you must know, it was your wife.”

  “Which line?”

  “Line two, but I told her you were probably on the phone with Carpathia or Rosenzweig.”

  “Where was she calling from?”

  “I don’t know. She said she would wait for your call.”

  “Did she leave a number?”

  “Yes. It’s—”

  When Buck heard the first two numbers, he knew it was the cell phone. He turned off the intercom and hit the redial button. Verna poked her head in the door and said, “I’m not a secretary, you know, and I’m certainly not your secretary!”

  Buck had never been angrier with anyone. He stared at Verna. “I’m coming across this desk to kick that door shut. You had better not be in the way.”

  The cell phone was ringing. Verna still stood there. Buck rose from his chair, phone still to his ear, and stepped up onto the desk and across Verna’s mess of papers. Her eyes grew wide as he lifted his leg, and she ducked out of the way as he kicked the door shut with all his might. It sounded like a bomb and nearly toppled the wall partitions. Verna screamed. Buck almost wished she’d been in the doorway.

  “Buck!” came Chloe’s voice from the phone.

  “Chloe! Where are you?”

  “I’m on my way out of Chicago,” she said. “I got the phones and went to The Drake, but there was a message for me at the desk.”

  “I know.”

  “Buck, something in Daddy’s voice made me not even take the time to get anything from our room.”

  “Good!”

  “But your laptop and all your clothes and all your toiletries and everything I brought from New York—”

  “But your dad sounded serious, didn’t he?”

  “Yes. Oh, Buck, I’m being pulled over by the police! I made a U-turn and I was speeding, and I went through a light, and I was even on the sidewalk for a while.”

  “Chloe, listen! You know the old saying about how it’s easier to ask forgiveness than permission?”

  “You want me to try to outrun him?”

  “You’ll probably be saving his life! There’s only one reason your father would want us out of Chicago as far and as fast as possible!”

  “OK, Buck, pray for me! Here goes nothing!”

  “I’ll stay on the line with you, Chloe.”

  “I need both hands to drive!”

  “Hit the speaker button and hang that phone up!” Buck said.

  But then he heard an explosion, tires squealing, a scream, and silence. Within seconds the electricity went off in the Global Community Weekly office. Buck felt his way out into the hall where battery-operated emergency lights near the ceiling illuminated the doors. “Look at that!” someone shouted, and the staff pushed its way through the front doors and began climbing atop their own cars to watch a huge aerial attack on the city of Chicago.

  Rayford clandestinely listened in horror as Carpathia announced to his compatriots, “Chicago should be under retaliatory attack, even as we speak. Thank you for your part in this, and for the strategic nonuse of radioactive fallout. I have many loyal employees in that area, and though I expect to lose some in the initial attack, I need not lose any to radiation to make my point.”

  Someone else spoke up. “Shall we watch the news?”

  “Good idea,” Carpathia said.

  Rayford could remain seated no longer. He didn’t know what he would say or do, if anything, but he simply could not stay in th
at cockpit, not knowing whether his loved ones were safe. He entered the cabin as the television was coming on, showing the first images from Chicago. Amanda gasped. Rayford went and sat with her to watch. “Would you go to Chicago for me?” Rayford whispered.

  “If you think I would be safe.”

  “There’s no radiation.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I’ll tell you later. Just tell me you’ll go if I can get permission from Carpathia to have you fly out of San Francisco.”

  “I’ll do anything for you, Rayford. You know that.”

  “Listen to me, sweetheart. If you can’t get an immediate flight, and I mean before this plane leaves the ground again, you must reboard the Condor. Do you understand?”

  “I understand, but why?”

  “I can’t tell you now. Just get an immediate flight to Milwaukee if I can get it cleared. If the plane is not airborne before we are—”

  “What?”

  “Just be sure, Amanda. I couldn’t bear losing you.”

  Following the news from Chicago, the cable news channel broke for a commercial, and Rayford approached Carpathia. “Sir, may I have a moment?”

  “Certainly, Captain. Awful news out of Chicago, is it not?”

  “Yes, sir, it is. In fact, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about. You know I have family in that area.”

  “Yes, and I hope they are all safe,” Carpathia said.

  Rayford wanted to kill him where he sat. He knew full well the man was the Antichrist, and he also knew that this very person would be assassinated one day and be resurrected from the dead by Satan himself. Rayford had never dreamed he might be an agent in that assassination, but at that instant he would have applied for the job. He fought for composure. Whoever killed this man would be merely a pawn in a huge cosmic game. The assassination and resurrection would only make Carpathia more powerful and satanic than ever.

  “Sir,” Rayford continued, “I was wondering if it would be possible for my wife to deplane in San Francisco and head back to Chicago to check on my people.”

  “I would be happy to have my staff check on them,” Carpathia said, “if you will simply give me their addresses.”

  “I would really feel a lot better if she could be there with them to help as needed.”

  “As you wish,” Carpathia said, and it was all Rayford could do not to breathe a huge sigh of relief in the man’s face.

  “Who’s got a cell phone I can borrow?” Buck shouted over the din in the parking lot of Global Community Weekly.

  A woman next to him thrust one into his hands, and he was shocked to realize she was Verna Zee. “I need to make some long-distance calls,” he said quickly. “Can I skip all the codes and just pay you back?”

  “Don’t worry about it, Cameron. Our little feud just got insignificant.”

  “I need to borrow a car!” Buck shouted. But it quickly became clear that everyone was heading to their own places to check on loved ones and assess the damage. “How about a ride to Mt. Prospect?”

  “I’ll take you,” Verna muttered. “I don’t even want to see what’s happening in the other direction.”

  “You live in the city, don’t you?” Buck said.

  “I did until about five minutes ago,” Verna said.

  “Maybe you got lucky.”

  “Cameron, if that big blast was nuclear, none of us will last the week.”

  “I might know a place you can stay in Mt. Prospect,” Buck said.

  “I’d be grateful,” she said.

  Verna went back inside to gather up her stuff. Buck waited in her car, making his phone calls. He started with his own father out west. “I’m so glad you called,” his father said. “I tried calling New York for hours.”

  “Dad, it’s a mess here. I’m left with the clothes on my back, and I don’t have much time to talk. I just called to make sure everybody was all right.”

  “Your brother and I are doing all right here,” Buck’s dad said. “He’s still grieving the loss of his family, of course, but we’re all right.”

  “Dad, the wheels are coming off of this country. You’re not gonna really be all right until—”

  “Cameron, let’s not get into this again, OK? I know what you believe, and if it gives you comfort—”

  “Dad! It gives me little comfort right now. It kills me that I was so late coming to the truth. I’ve already lost too many loved ones. I don’t want to lose you too.”

  His father chuckled, maddening Buck. “You’re not going to lose me, big boy. Nobody seems to want to even attack us out here. We feel a little neglected.”

  “Dad! Millions are dying. Don’t be glib about this.”

  “So, how’s that new wife of yours? Are we ever gonna get to meet her?”

  “I don’t know, Dad. I don’t know exactly where she is right now, and I don’t know whether you’ll ever get the chance to meet her.”

  “You ashamed of your own father?”

  “It’s not that at all, Dad. I need to make sure she’s all right, and we’re going to have to try to get out that way somehow. Find a good church there, Dad. Find somebody who can explain to you what’s going on.”

  “I can’t think of anybody more qualified than you, Cameron. And you’re just gonna have to let me ruminate on this myself.”

  CHAPTER 4

  Rayford heard Carpathia’s people setting up for his broadcast. “Is there any way anyone will be able to tell we are airborne?” Carpathia asked.

  “None,” he was assured. Rayford wasn’t so sure, but certainly, unless Carpathia made some colossal error, no one would have a clue precisely where in the air he was.

  At the sound of a knock on the cockpit door, Rayford shut off the hidden button and turned expectantly. It was a Carpathia aide. “Do whatever you have to do to shut down all interference and patch us back through to Dallas. We go live on satellite in about three minutes, and the potentate should be able to be heard everywhere in the world.”

  Yippee, Rayford thought.

  Buck was on the phone with Loretta when Verna Zee slipped behind the wheel. She slung her oversized bag onto the seat behind her, then had trouble fastening her seat belt, she was shaking so. Buck shut off the phone. “Verna, are you all right? I just talked with a woman from our church who has a room and private bath for you.”

  A mini traffic jam dissipated as Verna and Buck’s coworkers wended their way out of the small parking lot. Headlights provided the only illumination in the area.

  “Cameron, why are you doing this for me?”

  “Why not? You lent me your phone.”

  “But I’ve been so awful to you.”

  “And I’ve responded in kind. I’m sorry, Verna. This is the last time in the world we should care so much about getting our own way.”

  Verna started the car but sat with her face in her hands. “You want me to drive?” Buck asked.

  “No, just give me a minute.”

  Buck told her of his urgency to locate a vehicle and try to find Chloe.

  “Cameron! You must be frantic!”

  “Frankly, I am.”

  She unlatched her seat belt and reached for the door handle. “Take my car, Cameron. Do whatever you have to do.”

  “No,” Buck said. “I’ll let you lend me your car, but let’s get you settled first.”

  “You may not have a minute to spare.”

  “All I can do is trust God at this point,” Buck said.

  He pointed Verna in the right direction. She sped to the edge of Mt. Prospect and slid up to the curb in front of Loretta’s beautiful, rambling, old home. Verna did not allow Buck to even take the time to make introductions. She said, “We all know who each other is, so let’s let Cameron get going.”

  “I arranged for a car for you,” Loretta said. “It should be here in a few minutes.”

  “I’ll take Verna’s for now, but I sure appreciate it.”

  “Keep the phone as long as you need it,” Verna said,
as Loretta welcomed her.

  Buck pushed the driver’s seat all the way back and adjusted the mirror. He punched in the number he’d been given for Nicolae Carpathia and tried to return that call. The phone was answered by an aide. “I’ll tell him you returned his call, Mr. Williams, but he’s conducting an international broadcast just now. You might want to tune it in.”

  Buck whipped on the radio while racing toward the only route he could imagine Chloe taking to escape Chicago.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, from an unknown location, we bring you, live, Global Community Potentate Nicolae Carpathia.”

  Rayford swung around in his chair and propped open the cockpit door. The plane was on autopilot, and both he and his first officer sat watching as Carpathia addressed the world. The potentate looked amused as he was being introduced and winked at a couple of his ambassadors. He pretended to lick his finger and smooth his eyebrows, as if primping for his audience. The others stifled chuckles. Rayford wished he had a weapon.

  On cue, Carpathia mustered his most emotional voice. “Brothers and sisters of the Global Community, I am speaking to you with the greatest heaviness of heart I have ever known. I am a man of peace who has been forced to retaliate with arms against international terrorists who would jeopardize the cause of harmony and fraternity. You may rest assured that I grieve with you over the loss of loved ones, of friends, of acquaintances. The horrible toll of civilian lives should haunt these enemies of peace for the rest of their days.

  “As you know, most of the ten world regions that comprise the Global Community destroyed 90 percent of their weapon hardware. We have spent nearly the last two years breaking down, packaging, shipping, receiving, and reassembling this hardware in New Babylon. My humble prayer was that we would never have had to use it.

  “However, wise counselors persuaded me to stockpile storehouses of technologically superior weapons in strategic locations around the globe. I confess I did this against my will, and my optimistic and overly positive view of the goodness of mankind has proven faulty.

  “I am grateful that somehow I allowed myself to be persuaded to keep these weapons at the ready. In my wildest dreams, I never would have imagined that I would have to make the difficult decision to turn this power against enemies on a broad scale. By now you must know that two former members of the exclusive Global Community executive council have viciously and wantonly conspired to revolt against my administration, and another carelessly allowed militia forces in his region to do the same. These forces were led by the now late president of the United States of North America Gerald Fitzhugh, trained by the American militia, and supported also by secretly stored weapons from the United States of Great Britain and the formerly sovereign country of Egypt.

 

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