CHAPTER 2
Rayford had a lot in common with Ken Ritz and found him fascinating. Distraught over his own future—and income—and fearful of what he might learn about his late wife, Rayford nonetheless enjoyed Ken’s company. More than ten years his senior, Ken was former military, gruff, to the point, and aglow in what Tsion Ben-Judah called his “first love” of Christ.
Rayford and Ken spent hours in the air on the way home bringing each other up to date on their pasts, and Rayford silently thanked God for a new friend. His relationship with Tsion was as student to mentor. To Buck he was the father-in-law. How he missed Bruce Barnes, his first friend and spiritual guide after the Rapture! Ken seemed a gift from God.
Ritz assured Rayford he could learn the Gulfstream in no time. “You guys who drive the heavies can handle these skiffs like a bike racer goin’ back to a trike.”
“I wish it were that easy,” Rayford said, “but I’ll count on you for driver’s training.”
“Roger. And, man, with your replacement there for Carpathia—what’s his name again?”
“Mac. Mac McCullum.”
“Yeah. He gives us three pilots in the Trib Force. Now we gotta talk Sawbones into gettin’ out of that GC hospital before they catch onto him. That’ll give us a doctor. So, three pilots, a doc, and a rabbi—sounds like the start of a joke. The only member without a specialty is your daughter, and she’s what I call the voice of reason. Nobody’s more reasonable than Tsion, of course, but Chloe’s the voice of reason for guys like me who don’t understand everything the scholar says.”
Rayford told Ritz about David Hassid. “I have no idea how long he’ll be safe, but he gives us another pair of eyes and ears inside. Someday both he and Mac will have to run. Then look at the lineup we’ll have.”
“Hot dog!” Ritz said, clapping. “I don’t like bein’ on the defensive, man! Let’s take on that rascal!”
Rayford had never heard Nicolae referred to as a rascal, but he liked Ritz’s attitude. Weary and wary after so long in Carpathia’s orbit, he too longed to quit playing and get to war.
Ritz seemed to grow uncomfortable when Rayford told him about Amanda. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said, when Rayford’s story came full circle to the plane crash into the Tigris that had killed her.
“So you’ve heard the rest, too?” Rayford asked, having left out the charges of her duplicity.
“Yes, sir. I didn’t come to any conclusions, but I can imagine how it all makes you feel.”
“But you didn’t hear from Buck what he found out from Hattie?”
“I didn’t even know she was talking. Tell you the truth, I’ll be surprised if she’s still kickin’ when we get back.”
“That wasn’t what I wanted to hear.”
Buck hoped staying up late would make sleep come easily in the new time zone. But his brain was on Chicago time, and he lay staring at the ceiling. Chloe slept soundly beside him, and for that he was grateful.
By dawn in Israel, when he felt Chloe stir, Buck was so exhausted he could neither move nor open his eyes. He felt the brush of her lips on his cheek but couldn’t even emit a groan.
“Stay still, big guy,” she whispered. “Huge day ahead.”
She got up, and Buck soon smelled breakfast, but he fell asleep and didn’t rouse until early afternoon.
Rayford was impressed with Ken Ritz’s facility on the radio and on the ground at Palwaukee Airport at dawn in the Chicago suburbs. “You push this thing around like you own it,” he said.
“It’d be a good staff plane for the Trib Force, don’t you think?”
Buck’s Range Rover sat gleaming behind a damaged hangar. As they approached, a young man angled toward them. “Rover cleans up pretty good, doesn’t she?” he said, a shock of red hair in his face.
“Yeah,” Ritz said. “You been playin’ under the hood too?”
“Lucky for you. Timing was all screwed up.”
“I told you that, Ernie.”
“You also told me you wouldn’t be back for another week. I only got into that engine ’cause I was bored.”
Ritz introduced Ernie to Rayford, who remained guarded until Ritz pulled the young man close and said, “Notice anything?”
Ernie stepped toward Rayford and peered at his forehead. Ernie smiled and held his hair away from his face with both hands. Rayford embraced him. “Brother.”
“There’s more of us around here, including the boss man,” Ritz said, “but not too many, so we’re careful. Ernie here’s a Ben-Judah groupie.”
“You got that right,” Ernie said. “I can’t wait for the big meeting. It’s gonna be on the Net at noon tomorrow.”
“We’ll be watching,” Rayford said, eager to get going. Half an hour later, he and Ken pulled behind the safe house in Mount Prospect in the amazingly smooth-running Rover. “We’ve got to stay close to Ernie,” he said. “This vehicle needs to be as travel worthy as whatever plane we wind up with.”
“Did you see the front curtain move when we came by, Ray? Until he saw it was us, Floyd was probably wondering how he was gonna get Hattie underground.”
“You get a lot of snoops?”
“Hardly any. The block is deserted; the roads, as you saw, nearly impassable. So far, this has been a perfect spot. You wanna see Donny’s wife’s grave?”
Rayford had heard how Buck and Tsion had found the place. He nodded as Dr. Floyd Charles came out, the obvious question on his face. “We tried to call you,” Ritz said.
“I’ve been on the phone to my guy at the hospital.”
“This here’s Rayford Steele. I was about to show him the grave.”
“Of the woman neither of us ever met, but I suppose you did, Captain.”
Rayford shook his head. “Knew who she was is all. Hey, we’re brothers, Doctor. Call me Ray.”
“Thanks. Call me anything you want except Floyd.”
“How’s Hattie?”
“Not well. Sleeping.”
“She going to make it?”
Dr. Charles shook his head. “I’m not optimistic. The backup at CDC in Atlanta is ridiculous. She and I both have a hunch that what’s in her system was put there by the GC. If they ever get to the sample I sent, they’ll disavow it or steer me wrong.”
They walked back to the primitive grave and stood in silence. “Wish we could put up some kind of marker,” Rayford said, “but it would be only for us anyway, and we know who she was and where she is. We don’t need to draw attention to this place.”
Rayford felt deep gratitude that the Tribulation Force was headquartered in what was once this woman’s home. He couldn’t help cataloguing in his mind the deaths in his own circle. The list grew long and ultimately led to Amanda. He had grieved so much already, and he feared he would suffer many more losses before his own number came up.
Floyd Charles gave Rayford a quick tour of the place while they brought each other up to date on their respective situations. Rayford was impressed with the house, especially the underground shelter Donny had fashioned before his own demise. The day would surely come when they would all have to live under, rather than in, the house. How soon he could not guess. Nothing was predictable anymore, save for the judgments from heaven meticulously outlined on Tsion’s scriptural charts. Who would survive and for how long was all in God’s control and timing.
Rayford had heard death-rattle breathing before, but the emaciated frame of his former coworker, friend, and object of flirtation strangely moved him. Rayford stood over Hattie, pitying her, hoping for her, praying for her. He wanted to know what she knew about Amanda, of course, but he was not so selfish as to wish she would stay alive only long enough to communicate that. He gently pushed her bangs off her forehead. In the dim light he couldn’t tell whether a mark was there. Dr. Charles shook his head. “She’s been talking a lot lately, but she hasn’t come to any decision yet. At least she hasn’t decided the way we’d like.”
“Chloe thought she was close,” Rayford said. “Lord knows she has enough information. I don’t know what it’ll take.”
“I plead with her all the time,” the doctor said. “She’s stubborn. Waiting for something. I don’t know. I’m at a loss.”
“Pray she survives another day,” Rayford said. “And wake me if she comes to.”
“You want something to help you sleep?”
Rayford raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t figure you for a pill pusher.”
“I’m careful. Don’t use ’em myself, but I’m sympathetic to globe-trotters like you.”
“I’ve never had trouble sleeping.”
“Good for you.”
Rayford turned to head upstairs and stopped. “How about you, Doc? Having trouble sleeping?”
“I told you, I don’t use sleeping pills.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Dr. Charles looked down and shook his head. “How’d you guess?”
“You look wasted, sorry to say.”
Floyd nodded without expression.
“You want to talk?” Rayford said.
“You’re tired.”
“Hey, Doc, the way I understand it, when you leave the hospital, you’re going to join us. We’re like family. I make time for family.”
“It’s just that I didn’t expect to tell anybody about this until everyone got back.”
Rayford pulled out a kitchen chair. “About what?”
“I’m in your boat, Rayford.”
“Free of the GC, you mean? You’ve been fired?”
“I’ve got a believer friend at the hospital. I was on the phone to him in the middle of the night, apparently when Ken was trying to reach me. He told me he didn’t know where I was and didn’t want to know, but he said, friend to friend, disappear.”
Rayford reached to shake his hand. “Welcome to the club. You think anybody followed you here?”
“No. I made sure of that. But I’ve been gone from the hospital so much and was apparently suspicious enough.”
“If they don’t know where you are, you’re safe and so are we.”
Dr. Charles leaned back against the refrigerator. “Thing is, I don’t want to be a burden. The GC paid well, and I never compromised my principles. I worked hard to save lives and get people well.”
“In other words, you’re allowed to have less of a conscience problem than I about making a living working for the enemy?”
“I wasn’t implying anything.”
“I know. You’re worried about joining us without being able to carry your weight.”
“Exactly.”
“Look at me, Doc. I’m one of the charter members, and here I am without income.”
“I wish that made me feel better.”
“I think we can provide room and board in exchange for medical services. That puts you way ahead of me. I’m just an extra pilot now, and I’ve got no plane.” Rayford saw the hint of a smile. But then Floyd’s knees buckled. “You all right?”
“Just tired.”
“When did you sleep last?”
“It’s been a while, but don’t worry about—”
“How long since you’ve slept?”
“Too long, but I’m all right.”
“Ken?” Rayford called. Ritz came up from the basement. “You feel up to sitting with Hattie awhile?”
“I’m good. I got so much caffeine in me I’ll be up all day anyway.”
The doctor looked deeply thankful. “I’m going to take you gentlemen up on this. Thank you.” He gave Ken a few instructions, then trudged upstairs.
Ken sat next to Hattie’s bed with his Bible on one knee and a laptop on the other. Rayford was amused at Ken’s peeking over the top of his half-glasses to be sure Hattie was all right. He was one long-legged babysitter.
A few minutes later, as Rayford stretched out on the bed upstairs, he could hear Floyd snoring already in the next room.
Twenty-four hours before the opening evening session of the Meeting of the Witnesses, Buck, Chloe, and Tsion joined the local committee at the stadium for a final walk-through of the program. They returned to the van to find a message from Chaim via Jacov. The driver read from a scrap of paper: “Dr. Rosenzweig was summoned to the quarters of the potentate and has come back with a personal request from the Supreme Commander.”
“I can’t wait,” Buck said.
“I beg your pardon, sir?”
“Just an expression. Can you tell us what the req—”
“Oh, no sir. I was merely asked to get you back to Dr. Rosenzweig as quickly as possible.”
Buck leaned closer to Tsion. “What do you make of it? What would Fortunato want?”
“I should expect Carpathia would like to meet me. Probably for public relations or political reasons.”
“Why wouldn’t Carpathia have talked to Rosenzweig himself?”
“Protocol. You know that, Cameron.”
“But they’re old friends,” Chloe said. “They go way back. Didn’t Dr. Rosenzweig introduce you to Carpathia in the first place, Buck?”
Buck nodded. “No doubt Nicolae enjoys keeping him in his place.”
They arrived back at Chaim’s complex to find him bubbling with enthusiasm. “I am not a fool, Tsion,” the old man said. “I am aware that you have pitted yourself against my friend and argued with him publicly via the Internet. But I am telling you, you have him wrong. He is a wonderful man, a godly man, if I may say. The fact that he is humbly asking for a place on the program shows his goodwill and—”
“A place on the program!” Chloe said. “Impossible! The stadium will be full of Jewish converts who are convinced Nicolae is Antichrist himself.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Chaim said, smiling at her. “Nicolae Carpathia? He seeks world peace, disarmament, global unity.”
“My point exactly.”
Chaim turned to his protégé. “Tsion, surely you can see that the only expedient thing to do is to cordially welcome him to the stage.”
“You spoke with Carpathia yourself, Chaim?”
The older man cocked his head and shrugged. “Of course not. He is a very busy man. Supreme Commander Fortunato is his most trusted—”
“Too busy for you?” Tsion said. “You are a national hero, an icon, the man who helped make Israel what she is today! Your formula was the key to Carpathia’s power. How can he forget that and refuse to see an old friend like—”
“He did not refuse me, Tsion! If I had merely asked, he would have granted me an audience.”
“Regardless,” Tsion said, “Chloe is right. Much as I would love to humiliate him, it would be just too awkward. What kind of reception do you think he will get from the twenty-five thousand witnesses we will cram into the stadium and nearly a hundred thousand more at other sites around the city?”
“Surely, out of Christian charity, they would be cordial to the world ruler.”
Tsion shook his head and leaned forward, resting his hand on his former mentor’s knee. “Dr. Rosenzweig, you have been like a father to me. I love you. I would welcome you to the stadium with open arms. But Nic—”
“I am not a believer, Tsion. So why not welcome another with the same openness?”
“Because he is more than simply not a believer. He is the enemy of God, of everything we stand for. Though you are not yet a believer, we do not consider you an en—”
“Not yet a believer!” Chaim rocked back and laughed. “You say that with such confidence.”
“I pray for you every day.”
“And I appreciate that more than I can say, my friend. But I am Jewish born and bred. Though I am not religious, I do believe Messiah is yet to come. Do not hold out hope that I shall become one of your witnesses. I—”
“Chaim, Chaim! Did you not hear my evidence the night I shared it with the world?”
“Yes! It was fascinating, and no one can argue it was not persuasive. Look at what has come of it. But surely you do not claim it is for everyone!”
Buck could feel Tsion’s incredulity. “Dr. Rosenzweig,” the rabbi said, “I would be so grateful if you would allow me to plead my case to you. If I could personally show you my texts, my arguments, I believe I could prove to you that Jesus Christ is the Messiah and that Nicolae Carpathia is his archenemy. I would love to just—”
“I will give you that privilege one day, my friend,” Rosenzweig said. “But not the night before one of the biggest days of your life. And I must tell you, I would sooner believe Jesus was the Messiah than that Nicolae is his enemy. That is simply not the man I know.”
“I have the energy and the enthusiasm tonight, Doctor. Please.”
“Well,” Chaim said, smiling, “I do not. I will make a deal with you, however. You grant Nicolae a place on the program during your opening night, and I will give you my full attention on these matters at a later date.”
Rosenzweig sat back, appearing pleased with his suggestion. Tsion, clearly frustrated, looked at Buck, then at Chloe. He shrugged. “I do not know,” he said. “I just do not know. Frankly, Doctor, I could wish that a dear, old friend like you would listen to the heart of an admirer without condition.”
Rosenzweig stood and stepped to the window, where he peered through a sliver between the curtains. “Nicolae has provided the armed guards that ensure you will not suffer the way your family did and that you will not again be chased from your homeland. All I ask is that you treat the most powerful man in the world with the deference he deserves. If you choose not to, I will be disappointed. But I will not make this a condition of eventually letting you try to persuade me of your position.”
Tsion stood and thrust his hands deep into his pockets. He turned his back to Buck and the others. “Well, thank you for that,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I shall have to pray about what to do about Carpathia’s request.”
Buck couldn’t imagine how Carpathia could show his face at such a meeting or what response he might get from the assembled. Why would Carpathia subject himself to it?
“Tsion,” Chaim said, “I must get back to the potentate with a response tonight. I said I would.”
“Chaim, I will not have an answer until I have prayed about it. If Mr. Fortunato insists—”
“It is not his insistence, Tsion. I gave my word.”
“I do not have an answer.”
“All I can tell him is that you are praying about it?”
“Exactly.”
“Tsion, who do you think secured Kollek Stadium for you?”
“I do not know.”
“Nicolae! Do you think my countrymen would have offered it? You have aligned yourself with the two at the Wailing Wall who have cursed our country, your country! They have boasted of causing the drought that has crippled us. They turn water into blood, bring plagues upon us. It is rumored they will appear at the stadium themselves!”
“I can only hope,” Tsion said.
The men turned to face each other, both with hands spread. “My dear Tsion,” Chaim said, “you see what we have come to? If Nicolae is bold enough to address a stadium full of his enemies, he must be admired.”
“I will pray,” Tsion said. “That is all I can say.”
As they went off to bed, Buck heard Chaim on the phone with Fortunato. “Leon, I am sorry. . . .”
Late in the afternoon in Illinois, Rayford was awakened by footsteps on the stairs. The door opened. “You awake, Ray?” Rayford sat up, staring, squinting against the light. “Should I get the doc? Hattie’s wakin’ up.”
“Does she need anything?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Then let him sleep. She seems OK?”
“She’s trying to talk.”
“Tell her I’m coming down.”
Rayford staggered to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. His heart raced. He hurried stiff-legged down the stairs to find Ken gently giving Hattie a drink of water.
“Captain Steele!” she rasped, eyes wide. She beckoned him close. “Could you excuse us?” she asked Ken. As he stepped away she reached for Rayford. “Nicolae wants me dead. He poisoned me. He can reach anywhere.”
“How do you know, Hattie? How do you know he poisoned you?”
“I knew he would.” Her voice was weak and thin. She gasped for air as she spoke. “He poisoned your friend Bruce Barnes.”
Rayford sat back. “You know this?”
“He bragged about it. Told me it was a timed-release thing. Bruce would get sicker and sicker, and if all went according to plan, he would die after he returned to the States.”
“Are you strong enough to tell me more?” Hattie nodded. “I don’t want to cause you to get worse.”
“I can talk.”
“Do you know about Amanda?”
Her lips trembled, and she turned her face away.
“Do you?” he repeated. She nodded, looking miserable. “Tell me.”
“I’m so sorry, Rayford. I knew from the beginning and could have told you.”
He gritted his teeth, his temples pounding painfully. “Told me what?”
“I was involved,” she said. “It wasn’t my idea, but I could have stopped it.”