CHAPTER 15
Buck was awakened a little after midnight by the chirping of Chloe’s phone downstairs. Though she kept it within arm’s length, it kept ringing. Buck sat up, wondering. He decided her medication must have kicked in, so he hurried down.
Only people most crucial to the Tribulation Force knew the members’ private sat phone numbers. Every incoming call was potentially momentous. Buck couldn’t see the phone in the darkness, and he didn’t want to turn on the light. He followed the sound to the ledge above Chloe. He put a knee carefully on the mattress, trying not to wake her, grabbed the phone, and settled in a chair next to her bed.
“Chloe’s phone,” he whispered.
All he heard was crying. “Hattie?” he tried.
“Buck!” she said.
“Chloe slept through the ring, Hattie. I hate to wake her.”
“Please don’t,” she said through sobs. “I’m sorry to call so late.”
“She really wanted to talk to you, Hattie. Is there anything I can do?”
“Oh, Buck!” she said, and lost control again.
“Hattie, I know you don’t know where we are, but it’s not close enough to help if you’re in danger. Do you need me to call someone?”
“No!”
“Don’t rush, then. I can wait. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Thank you,” she managed.
As Buck waited, his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness. For the first time since she had been home, Chloe was not on her left side, keeping weight off the myriad breaks, bruises, strains, sprains, and scrapes of her other side. Every morning she spent half an hour massaging sleeping body parts. He prayed that someday soon she would enjoy a restful night’s sleep. Maybe she was doing that now. But could one really enjoy a sleep so deep that a ringing phone a few feet away would not penetrate? He hoped her body would benefit, and her spirit as well. Chloe lay still, flat on her back, her left arm by her side, her mangled right foot pigeon-toed to the left, her casted arm resting on her stomach.
“Bear with me,” Hattie managed.
“No rush,” Buck said, scratching his head and stretching. He was struck by Chloe in repose. What a gift of God she was, and how grateful he was that she had survived. Her top sheet and blanket were bunched. She often fell asleep uncovered and curled under blankets later.
Buck pressed the back of his hand to her cheek. She felt cool. Still listening for Hattie, Buck pulled the sheet and blanket up to Chloe’s neck, worrying that he might have dragged it across her foot, her most sensitive injury. But she did not move.
“Hattie, are you there?”
“Buck, I got word tonight that I lost my mother and my sisters in the earthquake.”
“Oh, Hattie, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s such a waste,” she said. “When L.A. and San Francisco were bombed, Nicolae and I were still close. He warned me they should leave the area and swore me to secrecy. His intelligence people feared a militia attack, and he was right.”
Buck said nothing. Rayford had told him he had heard Carpathia himself, through the Condor 216’s bugging device, give the order for the bombing of San Francisco and Los Angeles.
“Hattie, where are you calling from?”
“I told you in the e-mail,” she said.
“I know, but you’re not using their phones, are you?”
“No! That’s why I’m calling so late. I had to wait until I could sneak outside.”
“And the news about your family. How did that get to you?”
“I had to let the authorities in Santa Monica know where they could reach me. I gave them my private number and the number of the clinic here.”
“I’m sorry to say this at such a difficult time for you, Hattie, but that was not a good idea.”
“I didn’t have a choice. It took a long time to get through to Santa Monica, and when I finally did, my family was unaccounted for. I had to leave numbers. I’ve been worried sick.”
“You’ve probably led the GC right to you.”
“I don’t care anymore.”
“Don’t say that.”
“I don’t want to go back to Nicolae, but I want him to take responsibility for our child. I have no job, no income, and now no family.”
“We care about you and love you, Hattie. Don’t forget that.”
She broke down again.
“Hattie, have you considered that the news about your family may be untrue?”
“What?”
“I wouldn’t put it past the GC. Once they knew where you were, they may have just wanted to give you a reason to stay there. If you think your family is gone, there’s no reason for you to go to California.”
“But I told Nicolae my family had moved here after the bombings out there.”
“It wouldn’t have taken him long to discover that was untrue.”
“Why would he want me to stay here?”
“Maybe he assumes that the longer you’re there, the more likely you are to have an abortion.”
“That’s true.”
“Don’t say that.”
“I don’t see any options, Buck. I can’t raise a child in a world like this with my prospects.”
“I don’t want to make you feel worse, Hattie, but I don’t think you’re safe there.”
“What are you saying?”
Buck wished Chloe would rouse and help him talk to Hattie. He had an idea, but he’d rather consult her first.
“Hattie, I know these people. They would much rather have you out of the picture than deal with you.”
“I’m nobody from nowhere. I can’t hurt him.”
“Something happening to you could engender tremendous sympathy for him. More than anything, he wants attention, and he doesn’t care whether that comes as fear, respect, admiration, or pity.”
“I’ll tell you one thing, I’ll have an abortion before I’ll let him hurt me or my child.”
“You’re not making sense. You would kill your child so he can’t?”
“You sound like Rayford now.”
“We happen to agree on this,” Buck said. “Please don’t do that. At the very least get somewhere where you’re not in danger and can think this through.”
“I have nowhere to go!”
“If I came and got you, would you come here with us?”
Silence.
“Chloe needs you. We could use help with her. And she could be good for you during your pregnancy. She’s pregnant too.”
“Really? Oh, Buck, I couldn’t burden you. I’d feel so obliged, so in the way.”
“Hey, this was my idea.”
“I don’t see how it would work.”
“Hattie, tell me where you are. I’ll come and get you by noon tomorrow.”
“You mean noon today?”
Buck looked at the clock. “I guess I do.”
“Shouldn’t you run this by Chloe?”
“I don’t dare bother her. If there’s a problem, I’ll get back to you. Otherwise, be ready to go.”
No response.
“Hattie?”
“I’m still here, Buck. I was just thinking. Remember when we met?”
“Of course. It was a rather momentous day.”
“On Rayford’s 747 the night of the disappearances.”
“The Rapture,” Buck said.
“If you say so. Look what we’ve been through since then.”
“I’ll call you when we’re within an hour of you,” Buck said.
“I’ll never be able to repay you.”
“Who said anything about that?”
Buck put the phone away, straightened Chloe’s covers, and knelt to kiss her. She still seemed cold. He went to get her a blanket but stopped midstride. Was she too still? Was she breathing? He rushed back and put his ear to her nose. He couldn’t tell. He ran his thumb and forefinger under her jaw to check her pulse. Before he could detect anything, she pulled away. She was alive. He slipped to his knees. “Thank you, God!”
Chloe mumbled something. He took her hand in both of his. “What, sweetie? What do you need?”
She appeared to be trying to open her eyes. “Buck?” she said.
“It’s me.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I just got off the phone with Hattie. Go back to sleep.”
“I’m cold.”
“I’ll get you a blanket.”
“I wanted to talk to Hattie. What did she say?”
“I’ll tell you tomorrow.”
“Mm-hm.”
Buck found a coverlet and spread it over her. “OK?” he said.
She did not respond. When he began to tiptoe away, she said something. He turned back. “What, hon?”
“Hattie.”
“In the morning,” he said.
“Hattie has my bunny.”
Buck smiled. “Your bunny?”
“My blanket.”
“OK.”
“Thanks for my blanket.”
Buck wondered if she would remember any of this.
Mac was in the cockpit and Rayford asleep in his quarters when his personal phone rang. It was Buck.
Rayford sat up. “What time is it where you are?”
“If I tell you that, anyone listening will know what time zone I’m in.”
“Donny assured us these phones were secure.”
“That was last month,” Buck said. “These phones are almost obsolete already.”
They filled in each other on the latest. “You’re right about getting Hattie away from there. After what I told you Leon said, don’t you agree she’s in danger?”
“No question,” Buck said.
“And is Tsion willing to go to Israel?”
“Willing? I have to sit on him to keep him from starting to walk there now. He’s going to be suspicious, though, if the big man wants to take credit for getting him there.”
“I don’t see how he could go otherwise, Buck. His life would be worthless.”
“He takes comfort in the prophecies that he and the rest of the 144,000 witnesses are sealed and protected, at least for now. He feels he could walk into the enemy’s lair and come out unharmed.”
“He’s the expert.”
“I want to go with him. Being in the same country as the two witnesses at the Wailing Wall would make this soul harvest he’s been predicting just explode.”
“Buck, have you checked in with headquarters? All I hear from the top is that you’re on dangerous ground. You have no secrets anymore.”
“Funny you should ask. I just transmitted a long message to the big boss.”
“Is it going to do you any good?”
“You seem to have survived by being straightforward, Rayford. I’m doing the same. I told them I’ve been too busy rescuing friends and burying others to worry about my publication. Besides, 90 percent of the staff is gone and virtually all the production capabilities. I’m proposing continuing the magazine online until Carpathia decides whether to rebuild printing plants and all that.”
“Ingenious.”
“Yeah, well, the fact is there might be two simultaneous magazines coming out on the Internet at the same time, if you know what I mean.”
“There are already dozens.”
“I mean there might be two coming out simultaneously, edited by the same guy.”
“But only one of them financed and sanctioned by the king of the world?”
“Right. The other wouldn’t be funded at all. It would tell the truth. And no one would know where it’s coming from.”
“I like your mind, Buck. I’m glad you’re part of my family.”
“It hasn’t been dull, I can say that.”
“So what should I tell Leon I’ll do about Hattie and Tsion?”
“Tell him you’ll get the message to the lady. As for Tsion, negotiate whatever you want and we’ll get him to Israel inside a month.”
“You think there’s that kind of patience in the East?”
“It’s important to stretch it out. Make it a huge event. Keep control of the timing. That’ll drive Tsion crazy too, but it will give us time to rally everyone on the Internet so they can show up.”
“Like I said, I like your mind. You ought to be a magazine publisher.”
“Before long we’ll all be just fugitives.”
Buck was right. In the morning Chloe recalled nothing from the night before. “I woke up toasty and knew somebody had brought me a blanket,” she said. “It doesn’t surprise me it was one of the guys upstairs.”
She grabbed her phone and used a cane to get to the table. She punched the buttons with her bloated right hand. “I’m going to call her right now,” she said. “I’m going to tell her I can’t wait to have some female companionship around here.”
Chloe sat with the phone to her ear for several moments.
“No answer?” Buck said. “You’d better hang up, hon. If she’s where she can’t talk, she probably turned it off at the first ring. You can try her later, but don’t jeopardize her.”
A chortle came from Tsion upstairs. “You two are not going to believe this!” he hollered, and Buck heard his footsteps overhead. Chloe closed her phone and looked up expectantly.
“He’s so easily entertained,” she said. “What a joy! I learn something from him every day.”
Buck nodded, and Tsion emerged from the stairs. He sat at the table, eagerness on his face. “I am reading through some of the thousands of messages left for me on the bulletin board. I do not know how many I miss for every few I read. I am guessing I have seen only about ten percent of the total, because the total keeps growing. I feel bad I cannot answer them individually, but you see the impossibility. Anyway, I got an anonymous message this morning from ‘One Who Knows.’ Of course, I cannot be sure he actually is one who knows, but he may be. Who can know? It is an interesting conundrum, is it not? Anonymous correspondence could be phony. Someone could claim to be me and engage in false teaching. I must come up with something that proves my authenticity, no?”
“Tsion!” Chloe said. “What did One Who Knows write that amused you so?”
“Oh, yes. That is why I came down here, right? Forgive me. I printed it out.” He looked at the table, then patted his shirt pocket. “Oh,” he said, checking his pants pockets. “It is still in my printer. Do not go away.”
“Tsion?” Chloe called after him. “I just wanted to tell you I’ll be here when you get back.”
He looked puzzled. “Oh, well, yes. Of course.”
“He’s going to be thrilled he’s going home,” Buck said.
“And you’re going with him?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Buck said. “Big story.”
“I’m going with you.”
“Oh, no you’re not!” Buck said, but Tsion was back.
He spread the sheet on the table and read, “ ‘Rabbi, it is only fair to tell you that one person who has been assigned to carefully monitor all your transmissions is the top military adviser for the Global Community. That may not mean much to you, but he is particularly interested in your interpretation of the prophecies about things falling to the earth and causing great damage in the upcoming months. The fact that you take these prophecies literally has him working on nuclear defenses against such catastrophes. Signed, One Who Knows.’ ”
Tsion looked up, bright-eyed. “It is so funny because it must be true! Carpathia, who continually tries to explain as natural phenomenon anything that supports biblical prophecy, has his senior military adviser planning to, what? Shoot a burning mountain from the sky? This is like a gnat shaking his tiny fist in the elephant’s eye. Anyway, is this not a private admission on his part that there may be something to these prophecies?”
Buck wondered if One Who Knows was Rayford’s and Mac’s new brother inside GC headquarters. “Intriguing,” Buck said. “Now are you ready for some good news?”
Tsion put a hand on Chloe’s shoulder. “The daily improvement in this precious little one is good news enough for me. Unless you are talking about Israel.”
Chloe said, “I’ll forgive that condescending remark, Tsion, because I’m sure no insult was intended.”
Tsion looked puzzled.
“Forgive her,” Buck said. “She’s going through a twenty-two-year-old’s bout with political correctness.”
Chloe leveled her eyes at Buck. “Excuse me for saying this in front of Tsion, Cameron, but that truly offended me.”
“OK,” Buck said quickly, “guilty. I’m sorry. But I’m about to tell Tsion he’s going to get his wish—”
“Yes!” Tsion exulted.
“And, Chloe, I don’t have the energy to fight over whether you’re going.”
“Then let’s not fight. I’m going.”
“Oh, no!” Tsion said. “You must not! You are not nearly up to it.”
“Tsion! It’s not for another month. By then I’ll—”
“Another month?” Tsion said. “Why so long? I am ready now. I must go soon. The people are clamoring for it, and I believe God wants me there.”
“We’re concerned about security, Tsion,” Buck said. “A month will also allow us to get as many of the witnesses there as possible from around the world.”
“But a month!”
“Works for me,” Chloe said. “I’ll be walking on my own by then.”
Buck shook his head.
Tsion was already in his own world. “You do not need to worry about security, Cameron. God will protect me. He will protect the witnesses. I do not know about other believers. I know they are sealed, but I do not know yet if they are also supernaturally protected during this time of harvest.”
“If God can protect you,” Chloe said, “he can protect me.”
Buck said, “Chloe, you know I have your best interest at heart. I’d love for you to go. I never miss you more than when I’m away from you in Jerusalem.”
“Then tell me why I can’t go.”
“I would never forgive myself if something happened to you. I can’t risk it.”
“I’m just as vulnerable here, Buck. Every day is a risk. Why are we allowed to risk your life and not mine?”
Buck had no answer. He scrambled for one. “Hattie will be that much closer to her delivery date. She’ll need you. And what about our child?”
“I won’t even be showing by then, Buck. I’ll be three months along. You’re going to need me. Who’s going to handle logistics? I’ll be communicating with thousands of people on the Internet, arranging these meetings. It only makes sense that I show up.”
“You haven’t answered the Hattie question.”
“Hattie’s more independent than I am. She would want me to go. She can take care of herself.”
Buck was losing, and he knew it. He looked away, unwilling to give in so soon. Yes, he was being protective. “It’s just that I so recently nearly lost you.”
“Listen to yourself, Buck. I knew enough to get out of that house before it crushed me. You can’t blame that flying roof on me.”
“We’ll see how healthy you are in a few weeks.”
“I’ll start packing.”
“Don’t jump to conclusions.”
“Don’t parent me, Buck. Seriously, I don’t have a problem submitting to you because I know how much you love me. I’m willing to obey you even when you’re wrong. But don’t be unreasonable. And don’t be wrong if you don’t have to be. You know I’m going to do what you say, and I’ll even get over it if you make me miss out on one of the greatest events in history. But don’t do it out of some old-fashioned, macho sense of protecting the little woman. I’ll take this pity and help for just so long, and then I want back in the game full-time. I thought that was one of the things you liked about me.”
It was. Pride kept him from agreeing right then. He’d give it a day or two and then tell her he’d come to a decision. Her eyes were boring into his. It was clear she was eager to win this one. He tried to stare her down and lost. He glanced at Tsion.
“Listen to her,” Tsion said.
“You keep out of it,” Buck said, smiling. “I don’t need to be ganged up on. I thought you were on my side. I thought you would agree that this was no place for—”
“For what?” Chloe said. “A girl? The ‘little woman’? An injured, pregnant woman? Am I still a member of the Tribulation Force, or have I been demoted to mascot now?”
Buck had interviewed heads of state easier than this.
“You can’t defend this one, Buck,” she added.
“You want to just pin me while I’m down,” Buck said.
“I won’t say another word,” she said.
Buck chuckled. “That’ll be the day.”
“If you two chauvinists will excuse me, I want to try Hattie again. We’re going to have a telephone meeting of the weak sister club.”
Buck flinched. “Hey! You weren’t going to say another word.”
“Well then get out of here so you don’t have to listen.”
“I need to call Ritz anyway. When you reach Hattie, be sure and find out what name she was admitted under there.”
Buck went to follow Tsion up the stairs, but Chloe called out to him.
“C’mere a minute, big guy.” He turned to face her. She beckoned him closer. “C’mon,” she said. She lifted her arm, the one with the cast from shoulder to wrist, and hooked him with it behind the neck. She pulled his face to hers and kissed him long and hard. He pulled back and smiled shyly. “You’re so easy,” she whispered.
“Who loves ya, baby?” he said, heading for the stairs again.
“Hey,” she said, “if you see my husband up there, tell him I’m tired of sleeping alone.”
Rayford listened through the bugging device as Peter Mathews and Leon Fortunato spent the last hour and a half of the flight arguing over protocol for their arrival in Dallas. Mathews, of course, prevailed on nearly every point.
The regional ambassador, the former U.S. senator from Texas, had arranged for limousines, a red carpet, an official welcome and greeting, and even a marching band. Fortunato spent half an hour on the phone with the ambassador’s people, slowly reading the official announcement and presentation of honored guests that was to be read as he and Mathews disembarked. Though Rayford could hear only Fortunato’s end of the conversation, it was clear the ambassador’s people were barely tolerating this presumption.
After Fortunato and Mathews had showered and changed for the occasion, Leon buzzed the cockpit.
“I would like you gentlemen to assist the ground crew with the exit stairs as soon as we have come to a stop.”
“Before postflight checks?” Mac said, giving Rayford a look as if this was one of the dumbest things he had ever heard. Rayford shrugged.
“Yes, before postflight checks,” Fortunato said. “Be sure everything is in order, tell the cabin crew to wait until after the welcoming ceremony to deplane, and you two should be last off.”
Mac switched off the intercom. “If we’re putting off postflight checks, we’ll be the last off all right. Wouldn’t you think priority would be making sure this rig is airworthy for the return trip?”
“He figures we’ve got thirty-six hours, we can do it anytime.”
“I was trained to check the important stuff while it’s hot.”
“Me too,” Rayford said. “But we’ll do what we’re told when we’re told, and you know why?”
“Tell me, O Supreme Excellent Pilot.”
“Because the red carpet ain’t for us.”
“Doesn’t that just break your heart?” Mac said.
Rayford updated ground control as Mac followed the signalman’s directions to the tarmac and a small grandstand area where the public, the band, and dignitaries waited. Rayford peered out at the ragtag musicians. “Wonder where they got this bunch?” he said. “And how many they had with them before the quake.”
The signalman directed Mac to the edge of the carpet and crossed his coned flashlights to signify a slow stop. “Watch this,” Mac said.
“Careful, you rascal,” Rayford said.
At the last instant, Mac rolled over the end of the red carpet.
“Did I do that?” he asked.
“You’re bad.”
Once the stairs were in place, the band was finished, and the dignitaries were situated, the Global Community ambassador stepped to the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced with great solemnity, “representing His Excellency, Global Community Potentate Nicolae Carpathia, Supreme Commander Leonardo Fortunato!”
The crowd broke into cheering and applause as Leon waved and made his way down the steps.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the personal attendants from the office of the Supreme Pontiff of Enigma Babylon One World Faith!”
The reaction was subdued as the crowd seemed to wonder if these two young people had names, and if so, why they were not mentioned.
After a pause long enough to make people wonder if anyone else was aboard, Mathews stepped near the door but stayed out of sight. Rayford stood by the cockpit, waiting to start the postflight check when the folderol was over. “I’m waiting,” Mathews sing-songed to himself. “I’m not stepping out until I’m announced.”
Rayford was tempted to poke his head out and say, “Announce Pete!” He restrained himself. Finally Fortunato trotted back up the steps. He didn’t come far enough to see Mathews just beyond the edge of the door. He stopped when he saw Rayford and mouthed, “Is he ready?” Rayford nodded. Leon skipped back down the steps and whispered to the ambassador.
“Ladies and gentlemen, from Enigma Babylon One World Faith, Pontifex Maximus Peter the Second!”
The band struck up, the crowd erupted, and Mathews stepped to the doorway, waiting for several beats and looking humbled at the generous response. He solemnly descended, waving a blessing as he went.
As the welcoming speeches droned, Rayford grabbed his clipboard and settled into the cockpit. Mac said, “Ladies and gentlemen! First officer of the Condor 216, with a lifetime batting average of—”
Rayford smacked him on the shoulder with his clipboard. “Knock it off, you idiot.”
“How are you feeling, Ken?” Buck asked over the phone.
“I’ve been better. There are days that hospital looks pretty good. But I’m a far sight better than I was last time I saw you. I’m supposed to get the stitches out Monday.”
“I’ve got another job for you, if you’re up to it.”
“I’m always game. Where we goin’?”
“Denver.”
“Hmm. The old airport’s open there, they tell me. The new one will probably never be open again.”
“We pick up an hour going, and I told my client I’d pick her up by noon.”
“Another damsel in distress?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. You got wheels?”
“Yep.”
“I need you to pick me up on the way this time. Need to leave a vehicle here.”
“I’d like to check in on Chloe anyway,” Ken said. “How’s she doing?”
“Come see for yourself.”
“I better get goin’ if you’re gonna keep your commitment. You never schedule a lot of play time, do ya?”
“Sorry. Hey, Ken, did you check out that Web site I told you about?”
“Yeah. I’ve spent a good bit of time there.”
“Come to any conclusions?”
“I need to talk to you about that.”
“We’ll have time in the air.”
“I appreciate your giving me so much flying time on this trip,” Mac said as he and Rayford left the plane.
“I had an ulterior motive. I know the FAA rules are out the window now that Carpathia is a law unto himself, but I still follow the maximum flying hours rules.”
“So do I. You going somewhere?”
“As soon as you teach me how to get around in the Challenger. I’d like to drop in on my daughter and surprise her. Buck gave me directions.”
“Good for you.”
“What are you gonna do, Mac?”
“Hole up here awhile. I got some buddies I might look up a couple hundred miles west. If I can track them down, I’ll use the chopper.”
Ken Ritz’s Suburban came rumbling around the back of the house just before nine.
“Somebody wants to see you when you’re halfway conscious,” Buck said.
“Find out if he wants to arm wrestle,” Chloe said.
“Aren’t you getting frisky?”
Tsion was on his way down the stairs when Buck met Ken at the back door. Ken wore cowboy boots, blue jeans, a long-sleeve khaki shirt, and a cowboy hat. “I know we’re in a hurry,” he said, “but where’s the patient?”
“Right here, Dr. Airplane,” Chloe said. She hobbled to the kitchen door. Ken tipped his hat.
“You can do better than that, cowboy,” she said, extending her good arm for a hug. He hurried to her.
“You sure look a lot better than the last time I saw you,” he said.
“Thanks. So do you.”
He laughed. “I am a lot better. Notice anything different about me?”
“A little better color, I think,” Buck said. “And you might have gained a pound in the last day or two.”
“Never shows on this frame,” Ritz said.
“It has been a long time, Mr. Ritz,” Tsion said.
Ritz shook the rabbi’s hand. “Hey, we all look healthier than last time, don’t we?”
“We really need to get going,” Buck said.
“So nobody notices anything different about me, huh?” Ken said. “You can’t see it in my face? It doesn’t show?”
“What?” Chloe said. “Are you pregnant too?”
As the others laughed, Ken took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. “First day I’ve been able to get a hat on this sore head.”
“So that’s what’s different?” Buck said.
“That, and this.” Ken ran his hand through his hair again, and this time left it atop his head with his hair pulled out of the way. “Maybe it shows on my forehead. I can see yours. Can you see mine?”