by Tim LaHaye
No thinking person would allow Leon Fortunato inside Petra, of course, and neither would any of us advise Dr. Ben-Judah to venture out to some Global Community–approved site. So if this is to happen, Tsion will probably be on camera from here, and Leon from who knows where? Frankly, I hope the GC is foolish enough to follow through with this and that they have the courage to air it live and not censored.
I continue to be thrilled to be able to serve God under his divine protection. And though it happens nearly every time I fly, I never get tired of seeing the GC threaten and warn and even try to blast us out of the sky and then waste their missiles and bullets, missing us from point-blank range. Many of them must be among those who would change their minds about God and about Nicolae Carpathia, if only it wasn’t too late for them.
Rayford always loved hearing from Smitty. There was a youth and innocence about him that had nothing to do with his age. In fact, he was still in his early thirties, but Rayford loved him like a son.
He was shutting down his computer when Chloe came knocking. She was alone. “Got a minute?” she said.
“For you, are you kidding? Where are your men?”
“Doing Kenny’s favorite thing.”
“Wrestling on the floor,” Rayford said.
“Exactly. I’m telling you, Dad, since a little before his birthday, we’ve been finding out what the Terrible Twos are all about.”
“It’s not that bad, is it? He’s naturally going to be a little rambunctious, having to play inside all the time.”
“We’ll survive. Roughhousing with his dad takes a little of the steam out of him. He’s all boy, I can tell you that. But, hey, this is a business call.”
“Really?”
“I need to call in a favor. Do you owe me anything?”
“Let’s pretend I owe you everything. Give me an assignment. Co-op, I assume.”
“Oh yeah. One of our biggest trades ever could happen in about three months, but it has to be done by air, and we need a larger than normal crew. I’d like you to head it up on the western side. Mac’s going to run things from the east.”
“That big, huh? I’m all ears.”
“I’ve been sitting on this awhile, trading off bits of it here and there, but both parties have too much inventory. They don’t need what they’ve got, but they’re ready to trade with each other. You know how water has become as valuable as wheat?”
“Sure.”
“Our Argentine friends are willing to prove it. We’ve got a contingent, run by a Luís Arturo, at Gobernador Gregores on the Chico River. They’ve harvested thousands of bushels of wheat. Naturally they are worried they’re on borrowed time, with the size of the operation. And they’re worried about water. The Chico is getting more polluted all the time, and they are suspecting it’s intentional on the part of the GC.”
“They’ve got wheat and need water. Who’s got water?”
“The most unlikely place. Well, maybe not as unlikely as the middle of the desert, but this isn’t a place you normally think of for bottled water. Probably the biggest underground church outside of America. Bihari’s group at the Rihand Dam.”
“You’re not saying . . .”
“I am.”
“India?”
“That’s the place. They’ve got about as much volume of water as the Argentineans have wheat, and they’re willing to trade straight up.”
“You need more than a big crew, hon.”
“Tell me about it. We need big planes. Albie got something lined up out of Turkey, of all places, and he’s having it retrofitted to hold the skids of water.”
“Regardless, it should work fine for the wheat.”
“Thing is, Dad, we can’t wait. We’ve got to do this almost simultaneously. The wheat’s got to be heading toward India while the water’s on its way. Albie and Mac are going to pick up Abdullah and bring Bihari with them. I’d like you to choose three other guys from the States—”
“Well, Buck and George—”
“Not including Buck this time, if you don’t mind. Don’t look at me that way. It’s just a feeling.”
“That this is a doomed mission? Thanks for sending me!”
“Not at all. I just think Kenny needs him right now, and frankly—I may be self-serving or prejudiced or whatever—I don’t think he has the time to take away from The Truth.”
Rayford leaned back and looked at the ceiling. “George and Ree from here, if you can spare ’em.”
“We’ve got time to work around their schedules, sure.”
“And I’d look first to Whalum for a plane that big. And if he’s got one, he ought to bring it here to pick us up and serve as our fourth.”
“I’m for that,” Chloe said. “That’ll get Leah off my back.”
“Still wants a ride to Petra?”
“Yeah. Which is not all bad, except we haven’t been able to work it out yet, and I think she’s taking it personally.”
“What a shock, eh?”
“Well, we both know what she’s up to, and I’d almost like to get Tsion’s permission before I send her over there to start stalking—that’s overstated—shadowing him.”
When the time came for the project, Lionel Whalum was en route to San Diego, sans Leah, who was none too happy.
CHAPTER 17
“If your wizards can do all these tricks, Leon, why can they not turn a whole sea back into salt water?”
Chang sat listening through headphones.
“Excellency, that is a lot to ask. You must admit that they have done wonders for the Global Community.”
“They have not done as much good as the Judah-ites have done bad, and that is the only scorecard that counts!”
“Your Worship, not to be contrary, but you are aware that Carpathian disciples all over the world have raised the dead, are you not?”
“I raised myself from the dead, Leon. These little tricks, bringing smelly corpses from graves just to amaze people and thrill the relatives, do not really compete with the Judah-ites’, do they?”
“Turning wooden sticks into snakes? Impressive. Turning water to blood and then back again, then the water to wine? I thought you would particularly enjoy that one.”
“I want converts, man! I want changed minds! When is your television debate with Ben-Judah?”
“Next week.”
“And you are prepared?”
“Never more so, Highness.”
“This man is clever, Leon.”
“More than you, Risen One?”
“Well, of course not. But you must carry the ball. You must carry the day! And while you are at it, be sure to suggest to the cowardly sheep in Petra that an afternoon of miracles is planned, almost in their backyard, for later that same day.”
“Sir, I had hoped we could test the area first.”
“Test the area? Test the area?”
“Forgive me, Excellency, but where you have directed me to have a disciple stage that spectacle is so close to where we lost ground troops and weapons and where we have been unsuccessful in every attempt to interrupt their flying missions, not to mention where, my goodness, we dropped two bombs and a—”
“All right, I know what has gone on there, Leon! Who does not?! Test it if you must, but I want it convenient to those people. I want them filing out of that Siq and gathering for our event for a change. And when they see what my creature can do, we will start seeing wholesale moves from one camp to the other. You know who I want for that show, do you not?”
“Your best? I mean, one of your—”
“No less. Our goal should be to leave Petra a ghost town!”
“Oh, sir, I—”
“When did you become such a pessimist, Leon? We call you the Most High Reverend Father of Carpathianism, and I have offered myself as a living god, risen from the dead, with powers from on high. Yours is merely a sales job, Leon. Remind the people what their potentate has to offer, and watch them line up. And we have a special, you know.”
&nb
sp; “A special, sir?”
“Yes! We are running a special! This week only, anyone from Petra will be allowed to take the mark of loyalty with no punishment for having missed the deadline, now long since past. Think of the influence they can have on others just like them.”
“The fear factor has worked fairly well, Potentate.”
“Well, it is sort of a no-more-Mr.-Nice-Guy campaign, one would have to admit. But the time is past for worrying about my image. By now if people do not know who I am and what I am capable of, it is too late for them. But some blow to the other side, some victory over the curse of the bloody seas—that can only help. And I want you to do well against Ben-Judah, Leon. You are learned and devout, and you ask for worship of a living, breathing god who is here and who is not silent. It takes no faith to believe in the deity of one you can see on television every day. I should be the easy, convenient, logical choice.”
“Of course, Majesty, and I shall portray you that way.”
Lionel Whalum turned out to be a compact black man, a tick under six feet and about two hundred pounds. He wore glasses and had salt-and-pepper hair, and was a skilled pilot of almost any size craft. He brought a transport lumbering into the clandestine strip in San Diego, and within an hour was airborne again with George and Ree in the back and Rayford in the copilot’s seat.
“Chloe has told me so much about you,” Rayford said, “but it’s all been business. I think I know the basics of that story, but how did you become a believer?”
“I love when people ask,” Whalum said. “A big reason I was left behind had to do with how I lived. I know there’s nothing wrong with being successful and making money, but in my case, speaking just for me now, it made me deaf and blind somehow. I had tunnel vision. Don’t get me wrong. I was a nice guy. My wife, she was a nice lady. Still is. We ran in our circles, had nice things, a beautiful home. Life was good.
“We were even church people. I had grown up going to church, but I was a little embarrassed about it, to tell you the truth. I thought my mama and my aunties were a little too emotional and showy. And about the time I should have figured out what the whole church thing was about, I was old enough to not want people knowing I even went. When Felicia and I got married, we didn’t go to church in Chicago regularly. And when we did, it was to a higher sort, if you know what I mean. Very proper, subdued, not demonstrative. If my people had visited that church, they would have said it was dead and that Jesus wouldn’t even go there. I would have said it was sophisticated and proper.
“That’s the kind of church Felicia and I found in the suburbs too. It fit our lifestyle to a T. We could dress the way we did for work or socializing. We saw people we knew and cared about. And we definitely were never hollered at or insulted from the pulpit. Nobody called us sinners or hinted that we might need to get something right in our lives.
“Now our kids, on the other hand—two girls with a boy in between—they went the other direction. They got off to college and wound up, every one of them, in the kind of church I grew up in. Wrote us. Pleaded with us to get saved. Asked why we hadn’t exposed them to this when they were kids. Flabbergasted me, I have to tell you.
“But did it reach me, change my mind? Not on your life. But then somebody in our neighborhood invited us to a Bible study. If it hadn’t been for who it was, we never would have gone. But this was a cool guy. This was a guy who had made it, and big, in real estate development. He made this deal sound as casual as a golf game. No pressure. No hassle. They just read the Bible and talked about it, and they traded off meeting in about six different homes. We said sure, put our house on the list, and never missed.
“I was kind of bemused by it. After a while they started adding prayer to the thing. Nobody got called on or had to pray, and so Felicia and I didn’t. But people starting telling prayer requests, asking for prayer for their families and themselves, their ailments, even their businesses. I mentioned a couple of prayer requests now and then, but still I never prayed.
“One time the guy who invited us the first time asked if he could talk to us afterward. When it was just the four of us—his wife didn’t say anything—he kind of put it to us. Wanted to know where we were spiritually. I thought he meant where did we go to church, so I told him. He told me that wasn’t what he meant. He laid out how to become a born-again Christian. I had heard it. I knew. It was just a little overboard for me, that’s all. I told him I appreciated his concern and asked if he would pray for us. That always got ’em, was my experience. But he thought I meant right then, and so he did.
“He wasn’t pushy. Just a little intrusive. I forgave him. That’s sort of what it felt like. I thought it was good to feel so strongly about something and feel so deeply that you felt you should tell your friends and neighbors about it. That was it for me, end of story. No big deal.
“Two days later, millions of people all over the world disappeared. Including—are you ready?—every last person in that Bible study except us. And all three of our kids were gone.
“Saved? We got saved in, like, ten minutes.”
Abdullah was so excited about the operation with his old friends that he had been packed and ready for several days. He didn’t know or care how much of the actual piloting he would get to do. It would be enough to be together with Mac and Albie. To him the idea that the International Commodity Co-op could pull off such a huge trade, given the stepped-up persecution of believers around the globe, was just one more proof of the sovereignty of God.
When he knew Rayford and the other three from San Diego were in the air, he could barely contain himself. They would head directly to Argentina to load the wheat, which meant Mac and Albie would soon be on their way to pick up Abdullah. They were often spied upon and followed, so the plan was that they would bring some supplies into Petra and stay the night, not leaving for India until the next day. That way, if everything worked according to plan, the three of them plus their Indian fourth, Bihari, would be in the air toward Argentina at the same time the Americans were on their way from Argentina to India.
Abdullah felt a spring in his step as he moved about Petra, singing more loudly with the mass congregation, trying to pay attention and listen as Tsion and Chaim taught the Scriptures. This was the day that the computer and television technology center in the city would beam a signal of Tsion to Global Community headquarters at the palace in New Babylon, and a large monitor in Petra would receive the GC’s transmission of Leon Fortunato. Abdullah, for one, believed Leon didn’t have a clue what he was up against in a man as scholarly as Tsion—especially considering Tsion was a man of honor and truth.
Early in the afternoon Abdullah scaled the heights and peeked down from one of the high places onto the airstrip that had been built just for runs in and out of Petra. When Mac and Albie arrived, Abdullah would pilot a chopper to the end of the runway and bring them into the city.
As he scrambled back down, looking for something to occupy him until the great debate, he was surprised to see yet another gathering of thousands, with Chaim and Tsion trying to quiet them. Were they early for the telecast, or was something amiss? As he drew closer, he could see that several hundred of these did not bear the mark of the believer on their foreheads. They were jostling for front position for the debate because, one of them hollered, as soon as it was over, they were leaving Petra for a few hours to hear another speaker. “He will be right close by, and many believe he is the Christ. Jesus come back to earth to perform miracles and explain the future!”
“Please!” Chaim called out. “You must not do this! Do you not know you are being deceived? You know of this only through the evil ruler of this world and his False Prophet. Stay here in safety. Put your trust in the Lord!”
“Who are you but the second in command?” someone demanded. “If the leader will not beseech us to stay, why should we stay?”
“I do beseech you,” Tsion began, but Chaim interrupted.
“Why would you trouble the mind of this man of God on
the very day he has been anointed and called to counter the False Prophet? You are being used by the evil one to wreak havoc in the camp.”
To Abdullah’s dismay, he noticed that some of the dissidents rose up before Tsion and gathered themselves together against him and against Chaim, and said, “You take too much upon you. Why do you put yourselves above the congregation?”
Tsion slowly covered his face with his hands, fell to his knees, and pitched forward onto the ground. Then he raised his head and said, “The Lord knows who are his and who is holy. For what cause do you and all those gathered here speak against the Lord? And why would you murmur against Chaim?” Tsion called on two among the assembled and said, “Please, come to your senses and stand with me against this shortsightedness!”
But they said, “We will not stand with you. Is it a small thing that you have taken us from our motherland, our homes where we had plenty, and brought us to this rocky place where all we have to eat is bread and water, and you set yourself up as a prince over us?”
Abdullah had never seen Tsion look so stricken. Tsion cried out to God, “Lord, forgive them, for they know not what they do. I have neither set myself over them nor demanded anything from them except respect for you.”
Tsion continued, “God is telling Chaim and me to separate ourselves from you to save ourselves from his wrath.”
Many fell on their faces and cried out, “O God, the God of all flesh, must we die because of the sins of a few? Would you take it out on all of us?”
Tsion spoke to all the assembled and said, “Unless you agree with these, it would do well for you to depart from the presence of these wicked men, lest you be consumed in all their sins. From this point on, let it be known that the Lord has sent me to do all these works; I do not do them in my own interest. If these men do what is in their minds to do and God visits a plague of death on them, then all shall understand that these men have provoked the Lord.”
As soon as he finished speaking, the ground under hundreds of the rebels opened and swallowed them. They went down into the pit, screaming and wailing as the earth closed upon them, and they perished from among the congregation.