by Tim LaHaye
Buck looked at his watch. In an hour they were expected at the stadium. “One thing we know for sure—if my teacher is right—is that the two witnesses at the Wall will not be harmed, regardless of what Nicolae engineers tomorrow.”
“If they’re there,” Tsion said, smiling.
“Oh, they’ll be there,” Buck said.
“What makes you say that?”
“Because Nicolae warned them not to appear in public under penalty of death. What would be more public than where they have stood for more than two years?”
“You have a point,” Tsion said, patting Buck on the shoulder. “You must have a good teacher.”
Rayford was on the phone to Dr. Floyd Charles at the safe house as Ken piloted the Gulfstream over the Atlantic. “I’m tempted to slip her a Mickey, medical-school style,” Floyd said.
“I haven’t heard that expression in ages,” Rayford said. “How does that work?”
“Just like doping somebody’s drink,” Floyd said, “only we tell ’em it’s an innocuous IV. I could put her out for twenty-four hours, but then her immune system would be all screwed up.”
“You’re not really considering it?”
“Nah. She’s driving me batty though. I had to physically restrain her to keep her from doing laps up and down the stairs.”
“The stairs!”
“That’s what I said. I’m glad she’s feeling stronger, and ironically this murderous rage she feels toward Carpathia seems to be speeding her recovery. But I can’t have her expending the exertion necessary to climb stairs while she’s this weak. Honestly, Ray, it’s like trying to corral a toddler. I look up, and there she goes again.”
“How about downstairs?”
“Downstairs what?”
“Could she just walk downstairs?”
“Ray, I’ve been through medical school, and I don’t know how a person goes downstairs without going up too.”
“You could carry her up and let her walk down. Maybe it would tire her out without overexerting her.”
There was a pause long enough for Rayford to have to ask if Floyd was still there.
“I’m here,” he said. “I’m just thinking what a good idea that is.”
“Left you speechless, did it? Every once in a while even pilots come up with something useful.”
“Problem is, Ray, I look for reasons to touch her, to hold her, to comfort her. Now you’re telling me to pick her up and carry her, and you want me to rethink my feelings for her?”
“Get a grip, Doc. You’re no teenager anymore. I hoped your obsession with her wasn’t purely physical, but I should have known. You hardly know her, and what you know drives you batty by your own admission. Just behave yourself until we can get back and help you keep your senses.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“I mean it now.”
“I know. I hear you.”
“And, Doc, remember that our absolute, number one, top priority with her is her soul.”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t hear any enthusiasm there, Floyd.”
“No, I got it.”
“If you care a whit about her beyond your adolescent need to have her in your arms, you’ll want above all else to make her part of the family.”
“Buck, we’ve got a problem,” Chloe said, pulling him into an empty room. “I just casually walked through our route to the helipad so there’d be no surprises, and that key is gone.”
“What?”
“The key Rosenzweig had on a nail on the frame next to the access door. It’s gone.”
“Does he suspect we’re up to something?”
“How could he? I was as casual and subtle as I could be. He brought it up. I only asked him about the history of the house.”
“Did that door look as solid to you from inside as it felt to me from the outside?”
“It’s like a brick wall, Buck. If we had to break through it or knock it down, we’d wake the dead, not to mention the guard staff and Chaim himself.”
“We’ve got to find the key or get him to tell us what he did with it.”
“You think Jacov would know anything about it?”
Buck shrugged. “If I asked him, he’d sure know something was going on. I can’t get between them.”
“But he’s a brother, Buck.”
“Brand new. I’m not saying he’d betray us on purpose.”
“You heard about his wife?”
“That she’s going along tonight, yes. How does she feel about his faith?”
“So you haven’t heard.”
“No.”
“Chaim said Jacov claims his wife is now a believer too. Chaim thought it was humorous and asked me to use my Jesus vision tonight to see if she had the secret mark too.”
Buck shook his head. “Talk about a soul harvest. I’m praying for Rosenzweig himself.”
Jacov’s wife, Hannelore, proved to be a German-born Jew, sandy haired and small with shy, azure eyes. She joined Jacov, Stefan, Buck, Chloe, Tsion, and Chaim in the driveway, and the guard staff opened the doors of the Mercedes for them. Chloe embraced her tightly, and though she was a stranger, reached up to brush Hannelore’s hair from off her forehead.
Buck hugged her too, whispering, “Welcome to the family.”
“My wife, she does not understand English too good,” Jacov said.
“Well, how about it?” Chaim said, his eyes bright. “Does she have the—” and here he lowered his voice an octave and growled—“secret mark?”
“As a matter of fact, she does, Dr. Rosenzweig,” Chloe said, clearly not amused at his teasing.
“Oh, good then!” he exulted, moving to the front passenger seat. “You are all one big happy family then, are you not? And how about you, Stefan? Have you joined the ranks of the tribulation saints?”
“Maybe tonight!” Stefan said. “Almost last night!”
“My, my,” Chaim said. “I shall be left in the minority, shall I not?”
Only Jacov and Chaim fit in the front seat, so Hannelore sat directly behind Jacov with Chloe in the middle and Tsion behind Chaim. Buck and Stefan crammed into the rear compartment. Jacov had begun to pull slowly down the driveway when Jonas stepped in front of the car and signaled that Chaim should lower his window. He spoke urgently to Chaim in Hebrew.
Buck, with his face inches from Tsion’s head, whispered, “What’s going on?”
Tsion turned toward the window and spoke softly. “They’ve gotten a call from Leon. He’s sending a helicopter. The roads are more jammed than ever; the stadium is already full. They had to open the gates two hours ahead.” He listened some more. “The gateman told Fortunato there were seven of us, too many for a helicopter anyway. Apparently Fortunato told him to tell Chaim we were on our own if we refused GC assistance. Chaim is saying the gateman did the right thing. Just a minute. He’s whispering. Oh, no.”
“What?”
“Fortunato has warned that Jacov not be in our party. Chaim is angry, demanding that the gateman get Leon back on the phone.”
Jonas signaled that Jacov should pull the vehicle to the guardhouse at the gate. A phone was extended to Chaim, who immediately began arguing passionately in Hebrew.
“Then I will speak in English, Leon. I thought you knew every language in the world, as your boss seems to. I may call him potentate because I have always admired him, but I will not even call you sir, let alone supreme whatever-you-are. Now you listen to me. I am a personal friend of the potentate. He has pledged the security of my guests. I will be sitting with Jacov in the stadium tonight, and—yes, out in the crowd! I will not hide backstage. . . . To you he may be only a driver or a valet. To me he is part of my family, and he will not be threatened. Running from your guards and shooting harmlessly into the air may have been foolhardy, but he would not have done it if he didn’t feel our guests were in danger from the very people who had promised their safety!”
Tsion reached up and laid a hand on Rosenzweig’s shoulder as if to cal
m him. Buck could see the blood rise on the back of the old man’s neck and the veins bulge in his temple. “I need not remind you that it was not so long ago that Rabbi Tsion Ben-Judah lost his family for merely expressing his beliefs on television! He was chased from his homeland like a common criminal! . . . Yes, I know how offensive it must have been for the Jews! I am a Jew, Leon! That’s more than I can say for you. . . . Tsion assures me his belief is founded on more than faith but also scholarship, but that is not the point! . . . No! I am not one of them, as you say. But if I find that Nicolae looks upon these devout and passionate seekers of God with the contempt that you do, I might just become one of them!
“Now we are proceeding to the stadium in my well-known vehicle. We will take our chances with the traffic because we know shortcuts, and I also assume Tsion’s followers will make way for us. . . . As a compromise to you, yes, I will use an alternate driver—” Chaim signaled quickly for Jacov and Stefan to switch places—“but we are on our way, and we expect the protection pledged by the potentate himself.
“. . . Am I sorry? Sorry that you make so much of titles, Leon. But no, not sorry that I have offended you. You have offended me, how about that? I have tried to keep my wits about me and have maintained as normal a lifestyle as possible despite the accolades and the wealth that have come with my formula. . . . I am not insisting on some new title or a higher pedestal, and frankly it does not wear well on you either. We are pulling away, Leon, and my new driver seems unaware that I am on a cord phone! Good-bye!”
He laughed. “Stefan, you snake! You nearly pulled the phone away from the cord!”
“I’m a snake?” Stefan said, smiling. “You put me in the target seat!”
Chaim wrenched around in the seat. “Tsion, my son, you know what Leon was saying when we pulled away?”
“I can only imagine.”
“That he would be happy to work on a more appropriate title for a man of my station! Have you ever encountered anyone so out of touch with the point of a conversation?”
“Never,” Tsion said.
Buck was awestruck that such a dangerous ride could turn so festive.
CHAPTER 10
Rayford handled the bulk of the flying across the Atlantic, scheduling his arrival to allow the least amount of time on the ground. Mac had informed him that Carpathia and his entourage were still at the King David, but that the Condor 216 was hangared at Ben Gurion in Tel Aviv. Rayford figured security was tighter at Ben Gurion, but Carpathia was being ferried about on a GC chopper primarily out of Jerusalem Airport.
“You still takin’ chopper duty with me waiting at the airstrip with these turbines hot?” Ken said.
“As long as nobody knows I’m AWOL yet. If the word is out about me and I get spotted absconding with a GC chopper, mission’s over.”
“Well, make up your mind, Ray. I mean, I’m a good soldier, and I’ll do what I’m told. But I gotta be told.”
“Help me out here, Ken. I’ve still got my high-level security ID, but . . .”
“But if they do know and you get caught, how am I going to get our people back to the Gulfstream?”
Rayford shook his head. “I’ve got to try Mac one more time.”
“You fly; I’ll punch in the numbers. I’m going to have way too many flight hours otherwise.”
Ken handed the phone to Rayford. “Man, I’m glad you called,” Mac said. “I got the third degree about you for an hour. They don’t suspect anything on my part, but they think you’re in Jerusalem.”
“As long as they’re not setting up a dragnet in the U.S.”
“I’d rather they were, Ray. They look hard enough in Jerusalem, they’re gonna find you.”
“They won’t think I’d be stupid enough to be at an airport.”
“Maybe not, but stay aboard that Gulfstream.”
“You just answered a very important question for us, Mac. Thanks.”
“What? You were going to do the chopper work? Not smart. Anyway, as good as your teacher was, I never thought you got that good at it.”
“This is better anyway. Ken’s been to Rosenzweig’s. If we don’t draw too much attention to ourselves, we should be able to pull this off. Where’s Carpathia going to be?”
“No air plans, and he’s sure not going to crash the stadium party again. He’s staying close to the King David tonight, and I’ve charted a midmorning flight to New Babylon out of Tel Aviv. He’s going to be a long way from here before anything violent goes down.”
“How’re you getting him to Tel Aviv?”
“Helicopter out of Jerusalem Airport.”
“If these choppers are identical, how will I know which one we’re supposed to borrow?”
“They’re supposed to be side by side, facing south. Take the one to the west. Nobody’s standing guard over them like they are the Condor at Gurion.”
“Have you seen the one David had delivered?”
“No, but it’s there. The airport called asking what they were supposed to do with it. You’d have been proud of me, Ray. I adopt this major attitude. I tell the guy, ‘Just what do you think you’re supposed to do with a backup chopper? Stay the blazes away from it! If I find out anybody but my crew lays a finger on it, heads are gonna roll.’ Got his attention.”
“You’re the best, Mac. Here’s what we’ll do then. I’ll land the Gulfstream and play it like I’m there on business, stopping for fuel and a system check. Ken will walk down to the chopper and take off while I’m refueling. Will he be seen?”
“Not if he heads due south, lights off till he’s away from the field. It would be only blind luck if somebody saw him. The tricky part is going to be taking off again, what, twenty minutes later. You don’t want to get cleared too long before he sets down with your passengers or you’ll look suspicious. Obviously you’ll coordinate that by secure phone so the tower can’t eavesdrop. Taxi down to the far end of the runway where it’s darker, and Ken can land, again without lights. Somebody may see all that, but you’re a quarter mile from anyone who can hurt you, so get going. If you’re lucky, nobody will see the chopper go or come. The guy who ferried it down here for me is staying in Haifa. I told him I’d call him if I needed him. Otherwise, he’s taking it back to New Babylon after we leave.”
“Pray for us, Mac. We think we’re ready, but you never know.”
“I will, Ray. Every waking moment. Let me talk to Ken a second.” Ray handed him the phone.
“Well, thank you, sir,” Ken said. “I look forward to meeting you, too, though the way I understand it, that would happen if your tail was in as much trouble as Rayford’s here. You be careful now, and we’ll be in touch.”
Buck was continually amazed at the resourcefulness of his wife. Despite her youth, Chloe knew people. She knew when to act, when to speak, when not to. She waited until they were nearly at the stadium, stuck in traffic, to bring up the missing key.
“You know, Dr. Rosenzweig,” she began, “I was getting our suitcase down from the hall closet and noticed that key you showed me the other day is missing.”
“Oh, it is not missing if I know where it is, is it?”
She laughed. “No. I just wanted to tell you, in case you didn’t know.”
“Were you afraid I would accuse you of having taken it?” he said, his eyes alive with humor.
Chloe shook her head. “I just noticed,” she said. “That’s all.”
“It is in safekeeping,” he said. She shrugged, doing a good job, Buck thought, of pretending it was no concern of hers. “It just seemed foolish of me to leave it hanging right there all these years. A security risk, you know?”
“Oh?” she said. “I should think it would be more of a security risk if you hung it outside.” That tickled the old man so that the car bounced and swayed as he laughed. “In the States,” she continued, “we don’t have many doors that can be key-locked both inside and out.”
“Really? They are common here, especially for doors hardly ever used. I imagine in th
e embassy days of the compound that door was used frequently and was likely locked or unlocked with a key only on the outside.” Chloe appeared more interested in the teeming crowds outside the van. “Jacov,” Chaim said, “you do still have that key, do you not?”
“I do!” he shouted from the rear next to Buck. “And right now it’s digging into my leg through my pocket!”
Chaim leaned back toward Chloe as if with a secret. “I am certain that is the only key I have for that lock. I can’t imagine needing that exit, but it seems reckless to not have copies made. Jacov will take care of that Monday.”
She nodded and turned to catch Buck’s eye. What was he supposed to do, he wondered, pickpocket it? He did not want Jacov to know of their escape until they were long gone. Rosenzweig either, despite his escalating war of words with Leon Fortunato.
As Stefan was directed into a private parking spot next to the west entrance, Buck found himself grateful that this was the last night of the conference. It had been beyond anything he could have imagined, but where would they put all these people? Every night the crowds grew. Now people were shoulder to shoulder, the stadium full, crowds milling about outside and spilling into traffic. The news media, admittedly controlled by the Global Community, was everywhere. Clearly this was Nicolae’s way of monitoring every detail.
The entourage filed into the staging area, where the local committee waited. Buck was impressed with the authoritative tone Tsion suddenly effected. He must have felt like the shepherd he was and that the tens of thousands inside and outside the stadium were his flock. The previous two days he had deferred to the master of ceremonies and the local committee and merely appeared on stage and preached when it was his turn. Now he seemed to take charge, at least of certain details.
“Buck,” he said, beckoning him with a raise of his chin. As Buck approached, Tsion gripped his elbow and pulled him toward the emcee. “You know Daniel, of course.” Buck nodded and shook hands with him. “Daniel, listen,” Tsion continued, “I want five seats in the reserved section held for my guests. They will include Dr. Rosenzweig, two of his staff members, one of their wives, and Buck’s wife. Understood?”