The Indwelling

by Tim LaHaye

  “What if he does?”

  Chaim waved him off again.

  “Don’t do that. You’re an intellectual, a lifelong student and teacher and scientist. Humor the debate. What if Carpathia comes back to life?”

  Chaim rolled on the bed and turned his back to Buck. “Then I guess you’ll all be right; I’ll be wrong. You’ll win.”

  “You’re not pretending that it has actually happened.”

  “You said yourself I have a thinking man’s brain. I find it impossible to consider impossibilities.”

  “That’s why we’ve never gotten through to you? All our arguing and pleading . . . ?”

  “You’ve gotten through more than you know, Cameron. I have come from atheism to agnosticism and finally to belief in God.”

  “You believe?”

  “In God, yes. I told you that. Too many things have happened that can be explained no other way.”

  “Then why not Carpathia’s resurrection?”

  “You can’t tell me that you yourself actually believe this,” Chaim said.

  “Oh, yes, I can. And I do. You forget I was there when Eli and Moishe came back to life after three days in the hot sun.”

  “You believe what you want to believe.”

  Buck looked at his watch. “I wish it would get dark. I want out of here.”

  “You should leave me, young friend. Distance yourself from me. Pretend you never met me.”

  Buck shook his head, though Chaim was still turned away from him. “Can’t do that,” he said. “We go back way too far.”

  “I was merely the subject of an article. We didn’t have to become friends.”

  “But we did. And now I love you and can’t let you go. You think you have nothing else to live for—”

  “True enough.”

  “But you do. You do! You know what I fear for you, Chaim?”

  “You’re afraid I will die in unbelief and go to hell.”

  “There’s something more frightening. What if you wait too long to change your mind and God hardens your heart?”

  “Meaning?” Chaim rolled over to face him.

  “Meaning that you finally decide it’s true and want to give yourself to Christ, but you had already pushed God past where he would allow you to come back.”

  “Explain to me how that fits with your view of a loving God who is not willing that any should perish.”

  “I don’t understand it myself, Chaim. I’m new at this. But Dr. Ben-Judah teaches that the Bible warns about just that during the end times. Be careful that you don’t go too far, that you ignore too many warnings and signs.”

  “God would do that?”

  “I believe so.”

  “To me?”

  “Why not?”

  Chaim let his head rest on the mattress, then covered his face with his arms.

  “Ready to engage in the debate?” Buck pressed.

  “I’m tired, Cameron.”

  “You slept well.”

  “I slept. Not well. How could I?”

  “I can’t imagine. But this is too important for you to brush aside.”

  “You have pleaded with me before! I have heard every argument from you and from Tsion. I could make your case for you!”

  “Then think about what may happen to you. Say I get cold feet and abandon you. Even if you are a coward and unable to take your own life, someone is going to take it for you. Then what?”

  “I like to believe death is the end.”

  “It’s not,” Buck said.

  “Listen to the new believer, full of knowledge. You can’t know.”

  “Chaim. If all this stuff that has amazed you and made you believe God is real, why shouldn’t heaven and hell be real? If there’s a God, why would he want you to die and disappear into nothingness? It makes no sense.”

  “You’re repeating yourself.”

  “You’re holding out, Chaim. You’re like the fainthearted who want one more sign. I just don’t want you to wait past the point of no return.”

  “Ach!”

  “Just think about it, will you? What it would mean if the prophecy were fulfilled, Nicolae was the Antichrist, and he resurrected from the dead.”

  “I don’t want to think about it. I want to die.”

  “You wouldn’t if you believed what I believe.”

  “That, I agree with.”

  “You do?”

  “Of course. Who would want to go to hell?”

  “You don’t have to, Chaim! God has—”

  “I know! All right? I know! Stop talking.”

  “I will, but just consider—”

  “Please!”

  “—how you would feel if Nicolae—”

  “For the love of—”

  “I’ll shut up now, Chaim. But—”

  Buck’s phone rang.

  “Maybe there is a God,” Chaim said. “The patron saint of phones has saved me.”

  “This is Buck.”

  “Buck, is it really you?”

  “Hattie!” Buck stood so quickly his chair bounced away. “Where are you?”

  “Colorado,” she said.

  “You’re on a secure phone?”

  “One thing I absconded with, one of those from your friend on the inside.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “The GC think I’m dumber than I am. They released me from prison, gave me money, and then followed me here. I know they were disappointed I didn’t go to Israel, but I wanted to see if any of my family was left.”

  “And?”

  Her voice caught. “No. Not for a while. But you know where they hope I’ll go now.”

  “Exactly where I hope you won’t go.”

  “Buck, I have nowhere else to turn.”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “I’d love to help you, Hattie, but I—”

  “I understand. I had my chance.”

  “That’s not it. I—”

  “It’s all right, Buck. You owe me nothing.”

  “It has nothing to do with owing you anything, Hattie. I’m in the middle of a situation myself, and until you can shake the GC, I can’t advise that you head back to the safe house. Everybody’s welfare is at stake.”

  “I know,” she said, and he heard the terror in her voice. “Would you please tell everyone that I never told anyone where they were?”

  “Hattie. You as much as put Bo and Ernie on our doorstep.”

  “They couldn’t have found their way back there. Anyway, they’re both dead, and if they had told anyone, you’d have been raided by now.”

  “What will you do, Hattie?”

  “I don’t know,” she said wearily. “Maybe I’ll just run these goons on a wild-goose chase until they get tired of me. Heaven knows they gave me enough money.”

  “They’re not going to let you out of their sight. And don’t think they couldn’t patch in even to this call.”

  “They’re watching my car. They think I’m eating.”

  “Good time to slip away?”

  “Too open. I’ve got to get them to somewhere more densely populated. Maybe Denver.”

  “Be careful.”

  “Thanks for nothing.”

  “Hattie, I’m sorry. I—”

  “I didn’t mean that, Buck. I was trying to be funny. Nothing’s funny anymore, is it?”

  “If you shake them and are sure, try me again. We may not be at the same place, but if we can accommodate you . . .”

  “You would, wouldn’t you?”

  “Of course we would. You know us.”

  “Yes, I do. You all were better than I deserved. I’d better get off.”

  “Yeah. I s’pose you’ve heard they’re trying to pin the assassination on Rayford.”

  “I heard. Has to be a frame-up. He probably wasn’t even there.”

  “He was there, but he didn’t do it.”

  “You don’t have to convince me. Rayford kill somebody? Not in a million years. I know him better than that. Listen, just tel
l everybody I’m safe and so are they and thanks for everything I didn’t deserve.”

  “Hattie, we all love you and are praying for you.”

  “I know you are, Buck.”

  David, stunned at the difference between Dr. Eikenberry’s public pronouncements and the autopsy, frantically searched his database for a meeting between her and Fortunato prior to the meeting with management. He had to know what approach Leon had used, in case Leon tried the same with him. Via his hard drive, he bounced all over the compound but had no luck. He did, however, come upon a private meeting between Leon and an unidentified male in a conference room near Carpathia’s office.

  “. . . and how long have you been working for us, sir?”

  “Almost from the beginning, Mr. For—Supreme Commander.”

  “And you’re from?”

  “Greenland.”

  “You enjoy your work?”

  “Until the assassination, yes.”

  “The shooting?”

  “Well, I meant the stabbing. The assassination of those two guys at the Temple Mount, that was exciting. I mean, to see His Excellency put them in their place . . .”

  “But you didn’t enjoy your job so much when you saw the potentate himself murdered.”

  “No, sir. I kept the camera right on him, but it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

  “You know the autopsy is finished, and it was the gunshot that killed the potentate.”

  David could not decipher the response, but it sounded like a snort.

  “But there was only one gunshot, Commander—”

  “There was only one needed, son. It was a weapon identical to the one His Excellency used on the troublemakers at the Wailing Wall.”

  “I understand that, but from where I sat, above stage left, I saw the wood speaker’s thing—”

  “The lectern.”

  “Yeah, that. I saw that get hit and the curtain go flying. No way that bullet also hit the potentate. He was closer to me.”

  “Nevertheless, it has been determined that—”

  “Excuse me, Commander, but the real murder happened right below me, and I saw it happen.”

  “And you have reviewed this?”

  “Watched it over and over. Couldn’t believe it.”

  “And you discussed it with whom?”

  “Just my boss.”

  “That would be Mr. Bakar?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Footsteps. A door opening. More faintly: “Margaret, would you have Mr. Bakar join us, please? Thank you.”

  The door shut and David heard Leon’s chair. “Look into my eyes, son. There, yes. You trust me, do you not?”

  “Of course.”

  “When your superior gets here, I am going to tell you both what you saw and what you will remember.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I am going to tell you what you saw and what you will remember.”

  “But, sir, I know what I—”

  “You understand that I will soon become the new potentate, don’t you?”

  “I assumed that, yes, sir.”

  “You did?”

  “I think most people assume that.”

  “Do they?”

  No response.

  “Do they?” Leon repeated. “Don’t just nod. Tell me.”

  The young man’s voice sounded hollow. “Yes.”

  “You understand that my new title will be Supreme Potentate and that I must also be addressed as Excellency?”

  “Yes, Commander.”

  “You may try out the new title now.”

  “Yes, Excellency.”

  “And you realize that I will not only be worthy of worship, but also that worship of me will be mandatory.”

  “Yes, Excellency.”

  “Call me Potentate. Supreme Potentate.”

  “Yes, Supreme Potentate.”

  “Would you like to kneel before me?”

  Silence. Then a knock and a loud sigh from Leon. The door opening. “Excuse me, Commander, but Mr. Bakar is currently engaged in—”

  “Margaret!” Leon hissed fiercely. “Do not interrupt me again!”

  “I’m, sorry, sir, I—”

  “I don’t want apologies and I don’t want to hear that my subordinates have more important things to do! The next person through this door had better be Mr. Bakar, and for your sake, it had better be within ninety seconds.”

  “Right away, sir.”

  The door. The chair. “Now then, son, where were we?”

  “I was worshiping you, Supreme Potentate.” Another chair.

  “That’s it. Yes, kneel before me and kiss my ring.”

  “I see no ring, sir.”

  “Kiss my finger where the ring will soon be.”

  A quick knock and the door opening. Bakar’s voice: “Forgive me, Commander, I—what the devil is going on?”

  “Sit, Director.”

  “What’s he doing on the floor?”

  “He was just about to tell me what was on the video chip you brought back from Jerusalem.”

  “You’ve seen it, haven’t you, Supreme Commander?”

  “Of course, but it seems there’s a discrepancy between what he and I saw and what you apparently saw.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes,” Fortunato said. “Return to your chair and tell your boss what you saw.”

  “I heard the gunshot and saw the potentate’s head snap back.”

  “I get it,” Bakar said. “A joke. Now the gun killed him? We all know that’s not true.”

  “It’s true,” the cameraman said.

  “Yeah, I was born yesterday and went blind today.”

  “Did you go blind, Bakar?” Leon said soothingly.

  “Wha—?”

  “Lean across the table here and let me see your eyes.”

  “My eyes are fine, Le—er, Commander. I—”

  “Bakar, are you listening to me?”

  “Of course, but—”

  “Are you listening?”

  “Yes!”

  “Are you listening? Really listening?”

  Silence.

  “I have your attention now, don’t I, Bakar?”

  “You do, sir.”

  “Bakar, you understand that I will soon become the new potentate, don’t you?”

  David could stand to listen no more and clicked away from the feed. He stood, dizzy and sick to his stomach. He called Annie and apologized for waking her.

  “What is it, David?” she said.

  “I need you,” he said. “Meet me soon, before I get called in to see Fortunato.”

  Rayford and Leah agreed to meet Chloe in a mostly destroyed banquet hall that had been turned into a dimly lit, dingy bar. They were ignored, sitting in a dark corner, huddled against wind that gusted through huge gaps in the wall.

  Rayford and Chloe embraced, but he wasted little time chastising her. “This is more dangerous than staying put, even if Hattie leads the GC right to the safe house. There’s a chance they won’t find the underground.”

  “We need the new place, Dad,” she said. “And I’m tired of doing nothing.”

  “Granted, but let’s not get crazy.”

  Leah’s phone chirped. “This is, um, Gerri Seaver.”

  “Oh, I’m—I’m sorry, I—” Click.

  “Oh, no!” Leah said. “That was Ming, I’m sure of it.”

  “Hit Callback,” Rayford said.

  Any doubts Buck had about Chaim’s physical condition were erased when they finally left the Night Visitors. Chaim knew exactly where they were headed. He had ripped from one clean corner of his blanket a piece large enough to fit under his hat and extend down the back of his neck and both sides of his face. His nondescript shirt and blowsy pants made him look like any other Israeli day laborer, and he had replaced his slippers with boots.

  Buck had a tough time keeping up with him. He jogged as Chaim walked quickly, and though the man was a foot shorter and more than thirty years older, he wore Buc
k out.

  “We get to America and what, I’m holed up with Tsion and you? I won’t need to kill myself. You’ll both talk me to death.”

  “There’s nothing we could say that you haven’t heard already,” Buck said, gasping and grateful that that comment had made Chaim stop briefly.

  “Now there’s the truest thing I’ve heard all day.”

  “That’s not so,” Buck said, slow to start moving again when Chaim took off.

  “What?” Chaim said, a step and a half ahead.

  “The truest thing you heard today was that you are lost!”

  Again Chaim stopped and turned. “I’m lost?”

  “Yes!”

  In the dim light in the middle of the ravaged City of God, Buck saw the pain in his friend’s face.

  “You don’t think I know I’m lost?” Chaim said, incredulously. “If there’s one thing I do know, one thing I am certain of, it is that I am lost. Why do you think I would sacrifice myself to murder the greatest enemy my country has ever had? I did not expect to survive! I was ready to go! Why? Because I am lost! Nothing to live for! Nothing! My farewell act was to be of some benefit to Israel. Now the deed is done and I am here and yes, I am lost!”

  Buck was desperate that Chaim not give them away with his ranting. But that was only one reason he approached his dear friend, arms outstretched, and embraced him.

  “You don’t need to be lost, Chaim. You don’t need to be.”

  And the old man sobbed in Buck’s arms.

  CHAPTER 11

  “Don’t hang up. It’s Leah.” She had moved out to the Land Rover to make the call.

  “It sounded like you,” came the voice Leah never felt fit the delicate Ming Toy. “But who is Gerri something?”

  “We international fugitives have to keep changing identities, Ming. If it weren’t for the intrigue, what would be the appeal?”

  “I don’t know how you keep your sense of humor. This is too dangerous, too frightening for me.”

  “You handle it well, Ming.”

  “I called with a question. Your friend, Williams?”

  “Buck, yes.”

  “No, not Buck. Longer name.”

  “Cameron?”

  “Yes! Where’s his family?”

  “West somewhere, why? I think only his father and brother are still around.”