“What do you make of that, Chang?”
“I don’t worry about it. Sebastian confirmed the Elena kill, and he has her phone. Who knows how he bluffed them? I wouldn’t put anything past him. My worry is for Chloe and Hannah. The Morale Monitors lost them after the women led them to what the MMs thought was the Co-op. They won’t know that was phony till they raid it. But Stefanich had so many of his people in the woods to help bring you three back, he was short on help in Ptolemaïs. That’s all changed now. Everybody’s on their way back.”
The problem for Mac, he realized as he hot-wired the Jeep, was that he could call Chloe and Hannah, but he couldn’t reach the Co-op or Sebastian except in person. He had an idea of how they might all escape, but the women had to stay safe in the meantime.
“How bizarre is that?” Chloe said. “We were probably walking distance from George when he came out the back door of GC headquarters. We could have driven him to the Co-op.”
“And ruined it for everybody.”
“Well, yeah, but I’m just saying. We’ve got to ditch this car and get where Mac can find us.”
“The sooner the better,” Hannah said. “I haven’t noticed anyone for quite a while. Let’s do it now.”
“Let’s at least get to the outskirts.”
“Risky.”
“Not as risky as parking in town and walking through the streets.”
Mac hated the thought of having to walk even a few blocks, but he couldn’t risk parking anywhere near the Co-op. He left the Jeep about a mile north and set off on foot. The trick would be to get in without getting shot, with those at the Co-op on the lookout for GC.
He thought about just waltzing into the pub above, but for all he knew Socrates had described him, and the whole town was watching for him. He was still in camouflage and armed with an Uzi—not your typical Ptolemaïst out for a nightcap.
Instead, Mac went by what Chloe and Hannah had told him of the place and stayed in the shadows, coming the far way around, slipping in the back door and into the tiny bathroom. The pub was full and noisy, and that was to his advantage. He locked the door, tried not to inhale deeply, and scrubbed the grease from his face. Mac didn’t look much cleaner in the dingy mirror, and he was struck by the fatigue showing around his eyes. Some night, he thought, and we’ve just started.
Mac studied the pipes. They ran straight down through the floor, probably just a few feet from George and who knew how many local believers huddled in the back room of the laundry. He sat on the floor and used an Uzi clip to tap in Morse code on the pipe. “Seeking friend from S. D.”
He repeated the message twice more.
Finally, return taps. Mac had nothing to write with, so he had to remember each letter. “Need assurance.”
Mac responded: “Amazing Grace.”
The reply: “More.”
He tapped out: “Let’s go home.”
Back came: “Favorite angel?”
That was easy. And only a compatriot would know that. “Michael.”
“Welcome. Hurry.”
Mac turned out the light before he opened the door, saw no curious eyes, and hurried down the stairs. He heard a “Psst” from the back room and ducked through the curtain, only to look down the barrels of two Uzis in the dim light.
A young, dark-haired man appeared ready to shoot. “Let me see your hands.”
Mac raised them, his own Uzi—supplied from that very room—dangling from his arm.
“Is that him?” the young man asked.
“Could be,” George said.
“If it’s not,” Mac said, “how do I know you’re Costas?”
Then he realized why George had to be waffling and whipped off his glasses. “I used to work for Carpathia, man! The freckles had to go and the hair color had to change.”
“That’s him,” George said, stepping forward to embrace Mac.
Several others—mostly men, all ages and all armed—emerged from under piles of clothing. Only three women were there—one middle-aged, one elderly, and one in her late teens. The first introduced herself as Costas’s mother, Mrs. P. The older said, “My husband is K’s cousin.”
A thin, wiry man who looked to be in his late seventies said, “That would be me.”
George pointed at the teenager. “This one answered Elena’s phone a little while ago. Despite a very bad connection and a lot of static, she assured her partners I was still safely locked away.”
“Nice to meet you,” the girl said, adding the staticky sound as she spoke and causing the others to smile.
“Excellent work,” Mac said. “Now, brothers and sisters, we have no time. There is a massive manhunt for me, and it won’t be long before they find out Elena is dead and their prisoner gone. I have two compatriots on foot. K’s cousin, are you also a Kronos?”
“I am, sir.”
“Are you the one who lent your truck to the cause?”
He nodded solemnly.
“And is that truck available?”
“Two blocks from here.”
“I want to buy it.” Mac pulled a huge wad of Nicks from a pocket below his knee.
“No, no, not necessary.”
“Actually it is, because by the end of the night, it will be well known to the GC, and you will be unable to be seen in it again.”
“I do not need the money.”
“Does the Co-op? the underground?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Pappas said, and she stepped forward to take it.
“Tell me about the truck. Four-wheel drive?”
“Yes. But not new, not fast. Five-speed manual transmission, very heavy and powerful.”
“As soon as I connect with my other two team members, George and I will take the truck and pick them up. The GC expects us to head for the Ptolemaïs airport, but that’s a suicide run. We have a plane at an abandoned strip eighty miles west of here. If we can head that way without attracting attention, that’s where you’ll find the truck tomorrow. If we draw a tail, pretend you never saw that truck.”
“I want to come,” Costas said.
“I’m sorry, no. Unless you are going all the way to America with us, there would be no way for you to help us and to also escape.”
“But I—”
“We will accept all the ammunition you can spare. I would say if we leave now, our chances are only about fifty-fifty. Agree, George?”
“No, sir. I think that’s optimistic. But I agree it’s our only option and that we need to go now.”
Mrs. P. held up a hand. “There is nothing wrong with working while someone is praying. Someone put extra ammunition clips in a bag while I pray.
“Our God, we thank you for our brothers and sisters in Christ and ask you to put around them a fiery ring of protection. Give them Godspeed, we pray, in the name of Jesus. Amen.”
George took the bag and got the keys and directions to the truck, while Mac huddled in a corner and tried to bring up Hannah and Chloe on his walkie-talkie.
Chloe was on the phone to Chang when she heard Hannah take a radio message from Mac and give their location—off the road and behind underbrush north of the city.
“This is urgent,” Chang was saying. “I don’t have time to call everybody individually, so get this. All Ptolemaïs GC Peacekeepers and Morale Monitors are on high alert. They have abandoned the woods and are beginning a sweep of the entire town. We’re talking hundreds of personnel and all working vehicles.
“They’ve found Elena’s body, know they were the victims of an impostor on her phone, and are tracing that phone with GPS. If George has it, they’ll know where he is, and if he ditches it, it needs to be far from the Co-op.
“The airport is crawling with GC, and though the Rooster Tail is sitting on the tarmac as if it’s ready to go, it has been drained of fuel. If you can’t get back to Mac’s plane, the best I can offer is to try to get Abdullah’s pilot friend to Larnaca on Cyprus tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Chang,” Chloe said. “Hannah tells me Mac and G
eorge are on their way. Forget Larnaca. We’d never get there. It sounds like the net is being drawn in all around us. Tell everyone we love them and that we’re doing our best to get home.”
Mac was driving toward the north road with George in the passenger’s seat when he got the call from Chloe about Elena’s phone. “That’s easy,” he said, stopping in the middle of the road. “Stick Elena’s phone under the front tire, George,” he said.
The truck flattened the phone.
As they reached the north road, Mac saw a sea of flashing blue lights in the distance. “We’re toast,” he said.
“They’re not looking for this truck,” George said. “Don’t do anything suspicious.”
“Like picking up two armed women?”
“Drive on. The women will see the GC and know we’ll have to come back.”
“When would we have time to do that?”
“What are you going to do, Mac?”
“They’re setting up a roadblock. Stick the weapons and ammo under the seats and get a cap on. There’s a better description of you than me out there. You can’t hide big but you can cover blond.”
Chloe and Hannah lay on their stomachs, watching the long line of GC cars, lights flashing. “There’s the truck,” Hannah said.
“Most of the GC are driving by them. Guess they don’t need all those for a roadblock.”
One GC car stopped on each side of the road, and a Peacekeeper held up a hand to stop the truck and wave through the rest of the squad cars.
“Hannah, if you can hear me, give me one click.”
Chloe looked at her. “Was that George?”
Hannah nodded and clicked her walkie-talkie.
“All right, I’ve got Mac’s radio on the seat here, and I’m staring straight ahead and pretending not to be talking, so I may be hard to hear. Listen carefully. If you have the DEW with you and can turn it on, give me a click.”
Hannah turned on the weapon and gave another click.
“These guys are going to check us out. I’ll leave the radio locked open. If it sounds like they’re going to look closer, incapacitate both of them. Understand?”
Click.
“Here they come. Stand by. If one comes to my side of the truck, please use very careful aim.”
Click.
Chang was exhausted and wished he could call it a night like most everyone else at the palace except Suhail Akbar and the literally indefatigable Carpathia himself, who did not require sleep anymore. Chang would not, however, be able to sleep anyway until Mac and Chloe and Hannah and George were safely in the air. He stayed at his computer, available to help. Meanwhile, he tapped into Carpathia’s office.
“I really must stay on top of this Greece thing,” Akbar was saying. “I’ll return as soon as I can.”
“Is it not something you can do from here, Suhail? The nights are so long, and there is much to learn from the daylight regions.”
“Forgive me, Potentate, but we have had a serious breach of security. I am on a secure phone to Ptolemaïs and on a secure e-mail connection. The situation is about to be resolved, and I will hurry right back.”
“And we can see how the morale effort is going in Region –6 and in Region 0?”
“Of course.”
“There should be audio and video feeds where I see the last holdouts taking the loyalty mark, worshiping my image three times a day, or suffering the consequences. They are suffering, are they not?”
“I’m sure they are, Excellency. I don’t know how you or I could have been clearer on that.”
“And the Jews? There are many Jews in both those regions who might be enjoying the sunshine right now, but who do not know that this is their last chance to see it. Am I right?”
“You are always right, Highness. However, few people anywhere are truly enjoying anything with the seas as they are. I don’t know how the planet can survive such a tragedy.”
“This is the work of the Judah-ites, Suhail! They tell the Jews they are God’s chosen. Well, they are my chosen ones now. And what I have chosen for them will taste bitter in their mouths. I want to see it, Suhail. I want to know my edicts are being carried out.”
“I will see to it, my lord. By the time I return, someone will hook up the monitor to reporting stations in those regions so you may be brought up to date.”
“This security breach, Suhail. It is here, inside the palace?”
“That’s all we can conclude, sir. If such misleading, wholly false information can be planted on our main database from a remote location, we are much more vulnerable than we imagined. Bad as it is, we are most certain it is coming from inside, and that should not take long to trace.”
“You remember, Suhail, what I have asked for in the way of treatment of the Jews, not to mention the Judah-ites. That would be retribution far too lenient for one under my own roof who would deceive me in such a way.”
“I understand, sir.”
“The perpetrator must be put to death before the eyes of the world.”
“Of course.”
“Suhail, have we not combed our entire personnel list?”
“We have.”
“And are there any employees of the Global Community, here or anywhere in the world, who have yet to receive the mark?”
“Less than one thousandth of one percent, Excellency. Probably fewer than ten, and all loyalists with valid reasons, and all—to the best of our knowledge—with plans to rectify the situation immediately.”
“But should they not be our primary suspects?”
“We have them closely watched, sir. And there is not one employee in the palace or in New Babylon without the mark.”
After Suhail was finally able to excuse himself and get back to the situation in Ptolemaïs, Chang kept listening to Carpathia’s office. Nicolae mumbled under his breath, but Chang could not make it out. Occasionally he heard banging, as if Carpathia was pounding on a table or desk. Finally he heard a clatter that sounded like Carpathia had kicked a wastebasket and stuff spilled out.
After a few moments, Chang heard a faint knock and Carpathia calling out, “Enter.”
“Oh, excuse me there, Potentate, sir. I’m to get your monitor hooked up to the United North American States and the United South American States.”
Carpathia ignored him until the man was on his way out. “Clean up this mess,” he said.
Mac decided to take the initiative with the GC Peacekeeper in charge of the roadblock and not wait to be asked for his papers. George was slouched in the passenger seat.
“Wow, whatcha got goin’ tonight there, Chief? I haven’t seen this many of you guys on the streets since I started workin’ road maintenance. All these guys are makin’ it hard on our construction zones, but you gotta do what you gotta do. What’re ya lookin’ for, anyway? Something I can be watchin’ for?”
“Confidential matter, sir. High-level manhunt. Long day for you guys, huh?”
“Tell me about it. We’re hardly ever out this late. Had to come back around the long way from the airport. That part of this deal? That place is locked up tight. Went through the roadblock there too. They cleared us even though we don’t have our papers on us, ’cause we had to work so late, asphalt and all. Goin’ back to the work shed now.”
“That’s no excuse to not have your papers. Everybody is supposed to have their papers all the time.”
“We know, and we both feel terrible about it. But we’ll have ’em with us on the way home.”
“They let you off down by the airport?”
“Yeah, nice guys. I mean, we aren’t Peacekeepers, but we’re all working for the people anyway, right?”
“That’s not by the book.”
“You know, I thought that very thing and really appreciated it that he wasn’t one of those hard guys that gives the workingman a bad time.”
“Well, I don’t want to make your life miserable either, sir, so we can make this real easy. How about you two just show me your marks of loyalty,
and you can move it along.”
Chloe thought Mac had nearly talked his way out of the situation. But if he was no threat, showing his mark would not have been a problem.
“Don’t hesitate, Hannah,” Chloe said.
“I wish that other guy would get out of his car.”
From the walkie-talkie: “You just want to see our marks?”
“Yes, sir. Hand or forehead?”
“Mine’s on the forehead here, under the cap. My partner’s is, ah, where is yours, bud?”
“Hand,” Sebastian said.
“Let’s have a look,” the Peacekeeper said.
“Where’s yours, by the way?” Mac said. “You got the image of the potentate too?”
“Nah. Just the number. I’m kinda military that way.”
Chloe glanced at Hannah, then back at the truck, where Mac slowly unlatched his seat belt and took off his cap. He leaned forward.
“I don’t see anything.”
“What? Look!”
From the walkie-talkie, George in a quiet singsong: “Now would be the perfect time.”
The Peacekeeper spun in a circle, slammed back against the cab of the truck, and dropped, screaming. As he slowly started to rise, Mac said, “Say there, fella, what was that all about?”
“I don’t know, I—ah, fire ants or something.” He rubbed his back gingerly, now standing. He motioned to the officer in the other GC car, who quickly stepped out.
“What’s the trouble?”
“Pain in my back, like I backed into a hot pipe or something. I think a blister’s rising.”
He leaned toward Mac again, then grabbed the back of his leg and howled, falling and writhing. The other officer drew his weapon. “What are you guys doing?”
“We’re not doing anything!” Mac said. “What’s his problem?”
The inside light of the truck came on, and George got out and went toward the front with his hands raised. He must have had the walkie-talkie in his pocket now, because Chloe could still hear him on Hannah’s radio. “Can I help in any way?” he asked.
“Stay right where you are,” the second Peacekeeper said, just before he flopped in the road, dropping his weapon and trying to cover his face.