David’s heart pounded as he could feel Carpathia’s excitement. The potentate raised his voice, spoke more quickly. “Talk about pageantry, my friend! Talk about an event! Fool the two. Surprise them. Defer to them until that time. Give them the audience they think they deserve. Pull out all the stops, Leon. Global television coverage. Plan a happening. Put me there.
“Yes, I shall be in Jerusalem, the heart of the country with whom I have made a solemn pact. We will celebrate the halfway point of the peace that has been accomplished there. Produce the dignitaries. Get Peter there in all his laughable finery. My old friend Dr. Rosenzweig must be a guest of honor. We will do as the so-called saints do and recommit ourselves. I will dedicate myself anew to the protection of Israel!
“With all the world’s eyes there, I shall personally take responsibility for the end of the preachers. How her citizens will love the end of plagues, harangues, drought, famine, bloody water! Leon, take a note. Get the potentates to encourage Peter in his scheming against me. Have them lead him to believe they are with him, that they are, are, yes, unanimous in their antipathy toward me. They want him to be their ruler. Be sure he comes to Jerusalem believing he has the confidence of every one of them.”
“I will do my best, sir.”
“We have only a few months. Make it your top priority. High-level, confidential meetings whenever and wherever you need them. Full use of all our resources. This must be our proudest moment, the perfect performance. It shall be the end of insurrection, the end of opposition, the end of Enigma Babylon trying to assume my authority, the end of the Judah-ites, with no preachers in Jerusalem to worship.”
“But Ben-Judah still has that vast audience—”
“Even he will lose heart when it becomes clear there is only one power on earth and that it resides in New Babylon. Invite him! Invite his followers! They were so buoyed by embarrassing me and trying to kill me there last year. Well, welcome them back, and watch their reaction!”
“You are brilliant, Excellency.”
“If you like that, Leon, consider this. It will take the best you have to offer. But start confiding in Peter that all is not well between you and me.”
“But, Excellency, I love—”
“I know, Leon.”
“But the supreme pontiff knows too. I can’t imagine convincing him that my unwavering loyalty has suddenly—”
“Of course! It must not be sudden. Let him suggest it! Surely he finds negative things to plant in your mind about me, does he not? Has he never criticized me?”
“Certainly, but I always defend your motives and—”
“Just hesitate once, Leon. Let him render you silent just once. I know him. He will pounce on it. He believes he can persuade anyone of anything. What an ego to believe the ten potentates admire him, when we know beyond doubt most of them would kill him themselves! Can you do it, Leon?”
“I’ll try.”
“I have every confidence in you. Within four months we will consolidate all power and authority and render opposition moot. Just the thought of it energizes me! Go now, friend. Hesitate to ask for nothing. All my—our—resources are at your disposal.”
“Thank you, Excellency. Thank you for the privilege of serving you.”
“What a nice thing to say,” Carpathia said.
David had a headache from listening intently for so long. He was about to shut down the computer when he heard someone in Carpathia’s office again. The secretary chatted with him for a minute, then he asked her to hold all calls and allow no visitors until further notice. David heard the door close and then a click, and he assumed Carpathia had locked it. He waited to see if Carpathia made a significant phone call.
He heard the squeak of Nicolae’s chair, and then perhaps it rolled. Finally, he heard the potentate whispering. “O Lucifer, son of the morning! I have worshiped you since childhood.” David shivered, his heart thudding. Carpathia continued, “How grateful I am for the creativity you imbue, O lion of glory, angel of light. I praise you for imaginative ideas that never cease to amaze me. You have given me the nations! You have promised that I shall ascend into heaven with you, that we will exalt our thrones above the stars of God. I rest in your promise that I will ascend above the heights of the clouds. I will be like the Most High.
“I shall do all your bidding so I may claim your promises to rule the universe by your side. You have chosen me and allowed me to make the earth tremble and to shake kingdoms. Your glory will be my glory, and like unto you, I will never die. I eagerly await the day when I may make plain your power and majesty.”
Rayford got the call late on a Friday night. “He’s here,” T said. “And I told him someone was coming in with an interesting and potentially profitable proposition. So far he’s bit, but I hadn’t seen him since your woman friend disappeared, and I can tell he’s waiting for me to raise the issue.”
“I’ll be there. Keep him warm.”
Rayford sat down with Leah and asked if he could wave some of her cash before Bo Hanson to see if he’d sell information on the whereabouts of Hattie Durham.
“Well,” she said, as if relishing her position, “you hardly speak to me for days, never ask how I’m doing, not even how or if the ribs are mending, but now you need something and here you are.”
Rayford didn’t know what to say. He hated her tone and her attitude, but he was guilty. “I have been remiss,” he tried.
“I risk my life with you and donate my husband’s and my entire life savings to the Tribulation Force, and you treat me like an intruder. That’s remiss?”
“Apparently it’s unforgivable,” he said.
“Apparently? You say that as if conceding that I’ve decided you’re without excuse.”
Rayford stood. Leah said, “Please don’t be rude enough to walk away from me.”
He turned. “There are easier ways to say no. Could you try another?”
“But I’m not saying no.”
“You could have fooled me.”
“I enjoy rattling your cage.”
“I’m glad one of us enjoys it.”
“Rayford, please. I have been hurt by your avoidance of me, but I also realize that you have suffered many losses, including two wives in three years. I don’t expect you to be comfortable with me. But I thought we patched up our rocky start, and going through what we went through together has to count for something.”
He sat back down. “I don’t know about you, Leah, but I found that as frightening as anything I’ve encountered—and that includes discovering my wife’s body at the bottom of the Tigris. I don’t like to think about it, and I sure don’t want to dwell on it. This is no excuse, but maybe you remind me of it.”
“I’m sure I do. But you’re in charge here, and I need something to do. Assign me something, chief. I’m ready to offer every medical skill I have when necessary, but I don’t want to work only when people are hurt or sick. I’ve tried to help Chloe with the baby and even some with the co-op, but she’s too nice to ask. I have to push myself on her. Make that my job and she won’t feel bad about counting on me.”
“OK, consider that done.”
“Tell her.”
“I will.”
“And you people are so politically correct around here, no one’s even suggested I do anything domestic. I happen to be a good cook and enjoy everything about it. Planning, food preparation, even cleanup. May I do that for you so you can all concentrate on what you’re supposed to be doing?”
“You’d do that? That would help.”
“I’d feel I was contributing. Forget the money. You didn’t even have to ask. I told you from the beginning I was giving it to the cause, and I meant it. If circumstances changed and I left here tomorrow, I wouldn’t take a penny with me. Can we put that to rest?”
“That’s so above and beyond—”
“I already feel appropriately thanked. We bring to the table what we have, and none is more important than another. Except maybe Tsion.”
r /> “So you were giving me a hard time because . . . ?”
“You deserved it. You should have cared more and showed it. Have I asked about your knee?”
“Several times.”
“I wasn’t being polite. I caused that injury. I didn’t know you weren’t looking, but I shouldn’t have stopped in front of you anyway. You’re a wonderful man. You were hurt. I care. I asked. You gave me the cursory, macho answer, end of conversation. I was hurt too, and no one was responsible for that but you. You were following too close, moving too fast for conditions.”
Rayford shook his head. “So how are the ribs coming?”
“Slow, as a matter of fact. I might have cracked more than one. I can go through a day hardly aware of them, then one false move and I’d like to scream.”
“I’m sorry. I hope you feel better soon.”
She looked at him.
“I mean it,” he said.
“I know. And you have a lot more on your mind than my needs.”
“Has everyone else been good to you?”
“The best. No complaints.”
“I’m the only one who doesn’t get a gold star.”
“And since I have your attention, would you consider something, for when I get healthy? I am mobile. I am smart. I take risks, like I did for you all more than once at the hospital. I have no family, nothing to lose. If you need me to go somewhere, do something, deliver something, pick up something, communicate something, I can do the phony alias. All right, I almost blew it with the GC the other night—”
“You gave up too soon was all. Actually you caught on quickly and covered well.”
“Keep me in mind is all I’m saying. With hair dye and makeup, women are harder to recognize than men. The GC won’t keep my picture circulating for long. Get me a fake ID and put me to work.”
“In good time. I’ve just gotten excited about having you in charge of eats.”
“I was afraid I would regret that offer.”
Rayford stood, his toe and knee still tender. Chloe stepped in from the front room. “Daddy, bad news. You know I’ve been trying to reach Nancy, Hattie’s sister, to let her know we’re sure Hattie’s alive? I found her. She shows up on a confirmed dead list. Smoke inhalation.”
Rayford looked at the floor. “Well,” he said sadly, “another reason to find Hattie.”
Mac and Abdullah were scheduled to board the new Global Community One early Friday evening to be ferried back to New Babylon by Mac’s old first officer. The plane, appropriated from Peter II, had been rechristened from GC One to Phoenix 216. Leon Fortunato would come to fetch the wounded heroes.
Mac just couldn’t wait to get back to David and Annie. There was the chore of bugging the new plane and also something urgent David had to talk to him about and didn’t dare by phone. When the world’s leading communications security technician won’t talk on the phone, it’s big.
Mac was packing just after four o’clock when he got a call from Rayford. “I’m on my way to Palwaukee to put some pressure on this Bo character I told you about. I’m going to be in Europe soon and I need a few things. Albie still your best source?”
“By far. What do you need?”
“Oh, ah, I’d just as soon talk to him directly. Got his number?”
“Not with me. I expect to be home tonight. Can you wait till then?”
“I guess, if you can’t get David to dig it out for me.”
“It’s in my computer. A few hours make that much difference?”
“I guess not.”
With his new face and his fresh old-looking documents, Buck flew commercial to Tel Aviv. It had amazed him how difficult it was to find flights anymore. The plague of smoke and fire and sulfur continued to ravage the earth, and virtually every aspect of life was affected. The Rapture itself had changed the face of society, and life had not been the same since the great earthquake either, but Buck knew it would get worse. Virtually everyone had lost someone.
He found it hard to leave Chloe and the baby. He had been with them more than ten months, from the moment of Kenny’s birth. Buck couldn’t imagine the bond he’d developed and was shocked at how he physically ached to hold the baby. He had known that longing for Chloe, and sometimes it had nearly driven him mad. Somehow with Kenny it was even more intense.
On the plane an Asian woman a few rows behind him held a small boy, probably a few months younger than Kenny. Buck was so jealous it was all he could do to stay in his seat when the boy squalled during takeoff. As soon as he was able, he found his way back and asked the woman if she spoke English.
“Little,” she said.
“What’s your baby’s name?”
“Li,” she said, pronouncing it Lee.
“Hi, Li,” he said, and the boy locked eyes with him. “How old?”
“Seven month,” she said.
“Beautiful boy.”
“Thank you very much, sir.”
“Would he come to me?”
“Beg pardon?”
Buck held out his arms to the baby. “May I hold him?”
She hesitated. “I keep,” she said.
“That’s fine,” he said. “I understand. I would not give my boy to a stranger either.”
“You have boy baby?”
He showed her a picture and she cooed and showed it to her son, who tried to grab it. “Beautiful boy too. You miss?”
“Very much.”
She nudged her baby toward him, and Buck reached for Li again. The boy eagerly went to him, but when Buck straightened and gathered him in, Li grew serious and squirmed to keep an eye on his mother.
“She’s right there,” Buck said. “Mama’s right there.” But Li squawked and she took him back.
Buck offered his hand, which she shook shyly. “Greg North,” he said.
“Nice meet you, Mr. Greg,” she said, but she did not offer her name.
Later in the flight, after Buck had eaten, he was thrilled when the young mother asked his help. He had seen her pacing the aisle with Li till he fell asleep. She said, “You hold, I eat?” Buck held the sleeping child for nearly twenty minutes before she came for him. He hated to give him up.
In Tel Aviv Buck searched every face for the sign of the cross. The only one he saw was on a man who was being interrogated, so Buck refrained from jeopardizing his situation.
It was nine in the morning in Israel when Buck slung his bag over his shoulder and stepped out of the Ben Gurion airport terminal to call Chaim Rosenzweig’s home. A young female answered and spoke in Hebrew. Buck racked his brain. “English, please,” he said, hoping he could come up with a name.
“Dr. Rosenzweig’s,” she said. “May I help you?”
“Hannelore?”
“Yes,” she said tentatively. “Who’s speaking please?”
“I’ll tell you, but you must not say my name aloud, all right?”
“Who is it, please?”
“I want to surprise Chaim, all right?”
“Who?”
“Hannelore, it’s Buck Williams.”
“Buck!” she whispered with excitement. “No one can hear me. Where are you?”
“Ben Gurion.”
“Can you come? The doctor and Jacov will be so excited!”
“I very much want to see everyone.”
“Wait there. I will send Jacov.”
“Tell him not to say my name, Hannelore. If he must call out for me, I am using the name Greg North.”
“Greg North. He will come soon, Buck. Greg, I’m sorry. I will keep your secret from Dr. Rosenzweig. He will be so—”
“And how is Jonas?”
“Oh, Buck, I’m sorry. He has passed. Praise God he is in heaven. We’ll tell you all about it.”
CHAPTER 13
Rayford grabbed his bag of cash and trotted up the tower stairs at Palwaukee Airport. Having seen two cars in the lot, he knew T had kept Bo Hanson from fleeing. Rayford’s knee protested a few steps from the top, and he limped to the door
.
He had been in the tower many times and knew anyone there had heard his every footfall. T waved him in from behind the desk, and Bo looked up from a side chair as if just realizing someone was coming in. Rayford had found Bo none too bright, despite his privileged upbringing. His bleached crew cut was caked in place, and he took a deep breath, Rayford assumed, to showcase his muscular physique. The pose didn’t mask his fear.
“It’s been a while, Bo.”
He nodded. “Mr. Steeles.”
“Steele.”
“Sorry.”
“What’ve you been up to, Bo?”
“Nothin’ much. What about you?”
“Lost a dear friend recently. Two, matter of fact.”
Rayford sat, setting the bag at his feet.
“Two?” Bo said.
“One was my doctor. You met him.”
“Yeah. What happened?”
“Something he caught from Hattie.”
“Oh. I heard about her. Bad news.”
“What’d you hear?”
“It was all over the news,” Bo said. “Plane crash. Spain, I think. I lost somebody too. Ernie got burned up the other day in California.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thanks. Sorry about, ah, Hattie, too.”
“How much did she pay you, Bo?” Rayford said.
“Pay me?”
“To fly her out of here, concoct a story, fake her death.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You approved the flight. Your initials are on the log. You didn’t think to alter the plane’s identification, so even though the pilot never reported in, his plane was traced to your brother Sam in Baton Rouge.”
“He—I—I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You fancy yourself a businessman, Bo?”
Bo looked at T. “I own part of this airport. I do all right.”
“Five percent,” T clarified.
Bo looked stricken. “I have other holdings, other interests, other concerns.”