“God is also working in your heart. You do not have to be with us physically to receive Christ tonight. You need not be with anyone else, pray with anyone else, or go anywhere else. All you need is to tell God that you acknowledge that you are a sinner and are separated from him. Tell him you know that nothing you can do for yourself will earn your way to him. Tell him you believe that he sent his Son, Jesus Christ, to die on the cross for your sins, that he was raised from the dead, has raptured his church, and is coming yet again to the earth. Receive him as your Savior right where you are. I believe millions all over the world are joining the great soul harvest that shall produce tribulation saints and martyrs, a multitude that cannot be numbered.”
Tsion looked spent and stepped back to pray. When the people who had come forward finally began to disperse and head back to their seats, Tsion moved back to the lectern. He arranged his notes yet again, but his shoulders sagged and he seemed to breathe heavily. Buck was worried about him.
Tsion cleared his throat and drew in a huge breath, yet his voice was suddenly weak. “My text tonight,” he managed, “is Revelation 8:13.” All over the stadium, tens of thousands of Bibles opened, and the unique sound of onionskin pages turning filled the air. Tsion hurried back to Buck while people looked for the passage.
“Are you all right, Tsion?”
“I think so. Are you willing to read the passage for me if I need you to?”
“Certainly. Right now?”
“I prefer to try, but I’ll call on you if I need you.”
Tsion made his way back to the podium, looked at the passage, then lifted his eyes to the crowd. He cleared his throat. “Bear with me,” he said. “This passage warns that once the earth has been darkened by a third, three terrible woes will follow. These are particularly ominous, so much so that they will be announced from heaven in advance.”
Tsion cleared his throat yet again and Buck stood ready if needed. He wished Tsion would simply ask his assistance. But suddenly he smelled the dusty, smoky robes of the two witnesses and was startled when Eli and Moishe stepped up beside him. He turned as if in a dream and found himself staring into Eli’s endless eyes. Buck had never been so close to the prophets and had to resist the urge to touch them. Eli’s eyes bore into his. “Show thyself not to thine enemy,” he said. “Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour.”
Buck could not speak. He tried to nod, to indicate he had heard and understood, but he could not move. Moishe leaned between him and Eli and added, “Whom resist stedfast in the faith.”
They moved past him and stood directly behind Tsion. The crowd seemed so stunned that they didn’t cheer or applaud but pointed and stood and leaned forward to listen. Moishe said, “My beloved brethren, the God of all grace, who hath called us unto his eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after that ye have suffered a while, make you perfect, stablish, strengthen, settle you.”
To Buck it appeared as if Tsion might fall over, but he merely made way for the two. Neither stepped close to the microphone, however. Moishe loudly quoted Tsion’s passage so that every ear could hear, in the stadium and on global television.
“‘And I beheld, and heard an angel flying through the midst of heaven, saying with a loud voice, Woe, woe, woe, to the inhabiters of the earth by reason of the other voices of the trumpet of the three angels, which are yet to sound!’”
All around Buck came the sound of the engaging of high-powered GC rifles. Guards dropped to one knee to raise their weapons and take a bead on the two witnesses. He wanted to shout, “It’s not the due time, you fools!” but he worried for Tsion’s safety, for Chloe’s and their friends’, for his own.
But no one fired. And just when it appeared one or two might squeeze their trigger, Eli and Moishe strode off the stage, past Buck, and past the very guards who had them in their sights. The guards scrambled away from them, some falling, their weapons clattering on the concrete floor.
Buck heard Tsion say from the podium, “If we never meet again this side of heaven or in the millennial kingdom our Savior sets up on earth, I shall greet you on the Internet and teach from Revelation 9! Godspeed as you share the gospel of Christ with the whole world!”
The meeting ended early, and Tsion, as frightened as Buck had ever seen him, hurried directly to him. “Get our passengers into the van as quickly as possible!”
CHAPTER 11
Rayford and Ken sat silently during the bizarre telecast from Israel, where it was not yet nine o’clock, as they streaked toward the Middle East Friday night.
“Still on schedule to touch down at midnight,” Rayford said. “Oh, sorry, Ken. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Ken massaged his eye sockets with his thumbs. “Wasn’t really sleeping,” he said. “Just thinking. You know, if everything Ben-Judah says is true, we’re soon gonna spend half our time just trying to stay alive. What’re we gonna do when we can’t buy or sell ’cause we don’t have the mark?”
“Like Tsion said, we have to start stockpiling now.”
“You realize what that means? We’re going to be a whole separate, like invisible, society of believers. There may be a billion of us, but we’re still going to be in the minority, and we’re still going to be seen as criminals and fugitives.”
“Don’t I know it!”
“We won’t be able to trust anybody with the other mark.”
“Don’t forget, there’ll be a lot of people with neither mark.”
Ken shook his head. “Food, power, sanitation, transportation—all controlled by the GC. We’ll be scrambling around, scratching out an existence in a huge, underground black market. How much money have we got?”
“The Trib Force? Not much. Buck and I made good salaries, but that’s gone. Tsion and Chloe have no sources of income either. We can hardly expect Mac and David to have to worry about us, though I’m sure they’ll do what they can. I haven’t talked to Floyd about any reserves he might have had.”
“I have a good bit stashed away.”
“So do Buck and I, but nothing like we’re going to need for aircraft and fuel, let alone survival.”
“This ain’t gonna be pretty, is it, Ray?”
“You can say that again, but please don’t.”
Ken pulled a yellow legal pad from his flight bag. Rayford noticed the pages were dog-eared with handwriting on more than half of them. “I know we never signed anything or made any pledges when we joined,” Ken said, “but I been doin’ a lot of thinkin’. I was never one for socialism or communism or even communal living. But it seems to me we’re going to be pretty much a commune from now on.”
“In the New Testament sense, like Tsion says.”
“Right, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t have a problem with that.”
Rayford smiled. “I’ve learned to believe the Bible completely,” he said. “If that’s what you’re asking.”
“I don’t know what you’re going to do about future members and all that, but we may have to get formal about giving everything we have to the cause.”
Rayford pursed his lips. So far that had not been an issue. “Sort of like asking everybody to make all their resources available to everybody else?”
“If they’re serious about joining.”
“I’m willing, and I know Buck and Chloe and Tsion would be. It’s just that we bring relatively little materially. Between Buck and me we wouldn’t have more than a million dollars. That used to sound like a lot, but it won’t last long, and it won’t finance any offensive against Carpathia.”
“You’d better get that converted to gold—and fast.”
“Think so?”
“I’m 90 percent precious metal,” Ritz said. “As soon as we went to three currencies, I could see what was coming. Now we’re down to one, and no matter what happens, I’ve got a tradable commodity. I got absolutely obsessed with saving when I turned forty. Don’t even know why. Well, I mean, I do now. Tsion
believes God works in our lives even before we acknowledge him. For almost twenty years I’ve been living alone and running charters. I’ve been a miser. Never owned a new car, made clothes last for years. Wore a cheap watch. Still do. I don’t mind telling you, I’ve made millions and saved almost 80 percent of it.”
Rayford whistled through his teeth. “Did I mention the annual dues for being a member of the Tribulation Force?”
“You joke, but what else am I gonna do with millions’ worth of gold? We’ve got, what, less than five years left. Vacations seem frivolous just now, wouldn’t you say? Bottom line, Ray, I want to buy a couple of these Gulfstreams, then I want to put in an offer on Palwaukee.”
“The airport?”
“It’s virtually a ghost strip now anyway. Owner tells me I run more flights out of there than anybody. I know he’d like to sell, and I’d better do it before Carpathia makes it impossible. The place would come with several small planes, a couple of choppers, fuel tanks, tower, sundry equipment.”
“You have been thinking, haven’t you?”
Ken nodded. “About more than that, too.” He held up his notepad. “This here’s filled with ideas. Farming co-ops, a sea-harvesting operation, even private banking.”
“Ken! Back up! Sea harvesting?”
“I read about Carpathia doling out royalties to his ten guys—the ten kings, Tsion calls ’em—for the rights to harvest their waterways for food and oil, and I got thinking they were onto something. He could easily shut down somebody’s farm, bomb it, raid it, burn it, confiscate equipment, all that. But how can he patrol all the oceans? We get believers who have fishing experience and equipment—I’m talking about commercial guys here—and we provide ’em a market of millions of saints. We somehow coordinate this, help process the shipping and billing, take a reasonable percentage, and finance the work of the Tribulation Force.”
Rayford checked his settings and then turned to stare at Ken. “Where do you come up with this stuff?”
“Thought I was a clod-kicker, didn’t you?”
“I knew better because Mac likes to play that role and he’s smart as a whip. But do you have background in this, or—?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told ya.”
“I’d believe anything right now.”
“London School of Economics.”
“Now you’re putting me on.”
“Told ya. You don’t believe me.”
“What’re you, serious?”
“It was thirty-five years ago, but, yeah. Mustered out of the air force, planned to go commercial but wanted to bum around Europe first. Wound up liking England; I really don’t remember the whys of that now, but I knocked over LSE with my high school records.”
“You did well in high school?”
“Salutatorian, baby. Made the speech and everything. Thought I was gonna be an English teacher. I only talk like this ’cause it’s easier, but yours truly is eminently cognizant of the grammatical parameters.”
“Amazing.”
“I amaze myself sometimes.”
“I’ll bet you do.”
The departing crowd seemed festive, but Buck could not see his party and didn’t want to lose sight of Tsion. The rabbi stood chatting with Daniel and the local committee, but he looked agitated and distracted, as if he wanted to be on his way. Buck scanned the stadium, especially the reserved section, but he didn’t see any of the five he was looking for. He thought autograph seekers or well-wishers might surround Rosenzweig, perhaps even zealous believers who would try to convert him. But there were no clusters, just lines of people happily filing out under the stern watch of GC guards.
Buck looked back to Tsion and the others backstage. That group seemed to be thinning too, and he didn’t want Tsion left alone. He was among the most recognizable people in the world, so he wouldn’t be able to blend into any crowds.
Buck hurried to Daniel, but Tsion, now deadly serious, intercepted him. “Cameron, please! Get the others and let’s go! I want to speak with Chaim tonight, but nothing must get in the way of our schedule. Everything is set, and we can’t leave Rayford and Ken exposed.”
“I know, Tsion. I’m looking for the others, but—”
Tsion gripped Buck’s arm. “Just go and find them and let’s get to the van. I have a terrible feeling I can only assume is from the Lord. We need to get to Chaim’s place. The GC surely has it under surveillance, so we can give them a false sense of security once they know we’re there and seem to be settling down for the night.”
Daniel and only four or five committee members remained backstage. “I don’t want to leave you alone, Tsion. With no eyewitnesses, the GC could do anything they wanted with you and blame someone else.”
“Go, Cameron. Please. I’ll be fine.”
“Daniel,” Buck said, “would you keep an eye on Tsion until I get back?”
Daniel laughed. “Babysit the rabbi? I can handle that!”
Buck, stern faced, pulled Daniel close and whispered in his ear. “He may be in grave danger. Promise me.”
“I will not let him out of my sight, Mr. Williams.”
Buck jogged up the ramp and across the stage, jumping to ground level. He could see less from there than on the stage, so he began to climb back up. A GC guard stopped him. “You can’t go up there.”
Buck reached for his ID. “I’m with the program committee,” he said.
“I know who you are, sir. I would advise your not going up there.”
“But I need to get through there to get to our van, and I’m trying to find my party.”
“You can get to your van the way everyone else is getting out.”
“But I can’t leave without my people, and we have to rendezvous with someone backstage first.”
Buck began to climb the stage again when the guard called him down. “Sir, don’t make me use force. You are not allowed to go back up that way.”
Buck avoided eye contact to keep from further agitating the guard. “You don’t understand. I’m Cam—”
“I know who you are, sir,” the guard said severely. “We all know who you are, who makes up your party, and with whom you are rendezvousing.”
Buck looked him full in the face. “Then why won’t you let me pass?” The guard tipped his uniform cap back, and Buck saw the sign of the cross on his forehead. “You’re, you’re a—?”
“Just tonight,” he whispered. “Standing here. People in the crowd began to notice, and of course I saw their marks too. I had to pull my hat low to keep from being exposed. I’m as good as dead if I’m discovered. Let me come with you.”
“But you’re in a strategic spot! You can affect so many things! Fellow believers will not give you away. They’ll know what you’re doing. Is Tsion in danger?”
The guard raised his weapon at Buck. “Move along!” he barked, then lowered his voice again. “Your party is already in the van. Snipers are waiting for a clear shot of Ben-Judah backstage. I doubt you could get him out.”
“I have to!” Buck hissed. “I’m going back there!”
“You’ll be shot!”
“Then fire at me out here! Draw attention! Yell for help! Do something!”
“Can’t you call him?”
“He doesn’t carry a phone, and I don’t know the emcee’s number. Do what you have to do, but I’m going.”
“My job is to keep everyone away from backstage.”
Buck pushed past him and took the steps two at a time. From behind he heard the guard yell, “Wait! Stop! Assistance!” As Buck reached the stage, he stole a glance back to see the guard on his walkie-talkie, then cocking his weapon. Buck dashed backstage and headed straight for Tsion, who stood precariously with only Daniel now. Daniel saw Buck and moved away, as if his job was over. Buck was about to scream at him to stay close, when gunfire erupted.
Tsion and Daniel immediately went down, as did a few stragglers several feet away. GC guards ran for the stage at the sound of the gunfire. Buck rushed to help
Tsion up. “Daniel, help me get him into the van!”
They shouldered through panicky people and out to the Mercedes. Outside people screamed and pushed to get as far from the stadium as they could. The back door and the backseat side door stood open. Buck jumped in the back as Daniel pushed Tsion in and shut the door.
They all kept their heads below window level until Stefan pulled out onto the street. From inside the stadium came the pop pop pop of more shooting, and Buck could only pray that the GC was not taking out its frustration by creating more martyrs.
Tsion wept as he watched the crowds sprint from the area. “This is what I feared,” he said. “Bringing these people into the enemy camp, leading them to the slaughter.”
Chaim was strangely quiet. He neither spoke nor seemed to move. He sat facing straight ahead. At a traffic light he seemed distracted when Stefan took his hands off the wheel, made fists with both hands, and shook them before his own face as if celebrating. Chaim glanced at him and looked away.
The light changed, but a GC guard still held the traffic, letting a line go from the other way. Stefan took the moment to turn the rearview mirror toward himself. He pushed his hair back and stared at his forehead. Chaim looked at him with a bored expression. “You can’t see your own, Stefan. Only others can see yours.”
Stefan turned around in his seat. “Well?” he said.
“Yes,” Chloe said, and Tsion nodded.