The Left Behind Collection: All 12 Books (111 page)

As was his usual custom, Rayford took off, quickly reached cruising altitude, put the plane on autopilot, and turned over control to Mac McCullum. “I feel like I’ve been on a plane all day,” he said, leaning back in his seat, pulling the bill of his cap down over his eyes, applying his headphones, and appearing to drift off to sleep. In the approximately two hours it took to fly from New Babylon to Rome, Rayford would get a lesson in new-world-order international diplomacy. But before they got down to business, Carpathia checked with Fortunato on the flight plans of Hattie Durham.

Fortunato told him, “She is on some kind of a multi-leg journey that has a long layover in Milwaukee, then heads for Boston. She’ll fly nonstop from Boston to Baghdad. She’ll lose several hours coming this way, but I think we can expect her tomorrow morning.”

Carpathia sounded peeved. “How long before we get the international terminal finished in New Babylon? I am tired of everything having to come through Baghdad.”

“They’re telling us a couple of months now.”

“And these are the same building engineers who tell us everything else in New Babylon is state of the art?”

“Yes, sir. Have you noticed problems?”

“No, but it almost makes me wish this ‘wrath of the Lamb’ business was more than a myth. I would like to put the true test to their earthquake-proof claims.”

“I saw that piece today,” Dr. Kline said. “Interesting bit of fiction. That Williams can make an interesting story out of anything, can’t he?”

“Yes,” Carpathia said solemnly. “I suspect he has made an interesting story of his own background.”

“I don’t follow.”

“I do not follow either,” Carpathia said. “Our intelligence forces link him to the disappearance of Rabbi Ben-Judah.”

Rayford straightened and listened more closely. He didn’t want McCullum to realize he was listening on a different frequency, but neither did he want to miss anything.

“We are learning more and more about our brilliant young journalist,” Carpathia said. “He has never been forthcoming about his ties to my own pilot, but then neither has Captain Steele. I still do not mind having them around. They may think they are in strategy proximity to me, but I am also able to learn much about the opposition through them.”

So there it is,
Rayford thought.
The gauntlet is down.

“Leon, what is the latest on those two crazy men in Jerusalem?”

Fortunato sounded disgusted. “They’ve got the whole nation of Israel up in arms again,” he said. “You know it hasn’t rained there since they began all that preaching. And that trick they pulled on the water supply—turning it to blood—during the temple ceremonies, they’re doing that again.”

“What has set them off this time?”

“I think you know.”

“I have asked you not to be circumspect with me, Leon. When I ask you a question, I expect—”

“Forgive me, Potentate. They have been carrying on about the arrest and torture of people associated with Dr. Ben-Judah. They are saying that until those suspects have been released and the search has been called off, all water supplies will be polluted by blood.”

“How do they do that?”

“No one knows, but it’s very real, isn’t it Dr. Kline?”

“Oh yes,” he said. “I have been sent samples. There is a high water content, but it is mostly blood.”

“Human blood?”

“It has all the characteristics of human blood, although the type is difficult to determine. It borders on some cross between human and animal blood.”

“How is morale in Israel?” Carpathia asked.

“The people are angry with the two preachers. They want to kill them.”

“That is not all bad,” Carpathia said. “Can we not get that done?”

“No one dares. The death count on those who’ve made attacks on them is over a dozen by now. You learn your lesson after a while.”

“We are going to find a way,” Carpathia said. “Meanwhile, let the suspects go. Ben-Judah cannot get far. Anyway, without being able to show his face in public, he cannot do us much harm. If those two rascals do not immediately purify the water supply, we will see how they stand up to an atomic blast.”

“You’re not serious, are you?” Dr. Kline said.

“Why would I not be?”

“You would drop an atomic bomb on a sacred site in the Holy City?”

“Frankly, I do not worry about the Wailing Wall or the Temple Mount or the new temple. Those two are giving me no end of grief, so mark my word: The day will come when they push me too far.”

“It would be good to get Pontiff Mathews’s opinion of all of this.”

“We have enough of an agenda with him,” Carpathia said. “In fact, I am sure he has an agenda for me as well, though perhaps a hidden one.”

Later, after someone switched on the TV and the three men caught up on the international coverage of the war cleanup effort, Carpathia turned his attention to Dr. Kline.

“As you know, the ten ambassadors voted unanimously to fund abortions for women in underprivileged countries. I have made an executive decision to make that unilateral. Every continent has suffered from the war, so all could be considered underprivileged. I do not anticipate a problem from Mathews on this, the way he might have protested were he still pope. However, should he express some opposition, are you prepared to discuss the long-term benefits?”

“Of course.”

“And where are we on the technology for predetermining the health and viability of a fetus?”

“Amniocentesis can now tell us everything we want to know. Its benefits are so far-reaching that it is worth any risk the procedure might afford.”

“And, Leon,” Carpathia said, “are we at a point where we can announce sanctions requiring amniocentesis on every pregnancy, along with an abortion requirement for any fetal tissue determined to result in a deformed or handicapped fetus?”

“Everything is in place,” Fortunato said. “However, you are going to want as broad a base of support as possible before going public with that.”

“Of course. That is one of the reasons for this meeting with Mathews.”

“Are you optimistic?” Fortunato asked.

“Should I not be? Is Mathews not aware that I put him where he is today?”

“That’s a question I ask myself all the time, Potentate. Surely you notice his lack of deference and respect. I don’t like the way he treats you as if he’s an equal.”

“For the time being, he can be as pushy as he wants. He can be of great value to the cause because of his following. I know he is having financial difficulty because he cannot sell surplus churches. They are single-use facilities, so he will no doubt be pleading his case for more of an allotment from the Global Community. The ambassadors are already upset about this. For right now, though, I do not mind having the upper hand financially. Maybe we can strike a deal.”

Buck was amused that his cover story was the hottest topic of the day. Every talk show, news show, and even some variety shows mentioned it. One comedy featured an animated short of a woolly lamb going on the rampage. They called it “Our View of the ‘Wrath of the Lamb.’”

Glancing at the magazine before him, Buck suddenly realized that when he was exposed, when he would have to step down, when he possibly became a fugitive, it would be impossible to match the distribution of a magazine so well-established around the world. He might have a larger audience via television and the Internet, but he wondered if he would ever have the influence again that he had right now.

He looked at his watch. It was almost time to head for the safe house and the luncheon with Hattie.

Rayford and Mac McCullum had about an hour’s break after they hit the ground in Rome and before they were to head back to New Babylon. They passed Peter Mathews and one of his aides boarding the plane. Rayford was nauseated by Carpathia’s obsequious deference to Mathews. He heard the potentate say, “How good of you to allow us to come and collect you, Pontiff. I am hoping we can have meaningful dialogue, profitable to the good of the Global Community.”

Just before Rayford stepped out of earshot, Mathews told Carpathia, “As long as it’s profitable to the One World Faith, I don’t much care whether you benefit or not.”

Rayford found reasons to excuse himself from McCullum and hurry back to the plane and into the cockpit. He apologized to Fortunato for “having to check on a few things” and was soon back in his customary spot. The door was locked. The reverse intercom was on, and Rayford was listening.

Buck had not seen Hattie Durham in real distress since the night of the Rapture. He, like most other men, usually saw her only as striking. Now the kindest term he could think of for her was disheveled. She carried an oversized purse stuffed mostly with tissues, and she made use of every last one. Loretta pointed her to the head of the table, and when lunch was served, they all sat awkwardly, seeming to try to avoid meaningful conversation. Buck said, “Amanda, would you pray for us?”

Hattie quickly entwined her fingers under her chin, like a little girl kneeling at her bedside. Amanda said, “Father, sometimes in the situations we find ourselves, it’s difficult to know what to say to you. Sometimes we’re unhappy. Sometimes we’re distraught. Sometimes we have no idea where to turn. The world seems in such chaos. However, we know we can thank you for who you are. We thank you that you’re a good God. That you care about us and love us. We thank you that you’re sovereign and that you hold the world in your hands. We thank you for friends, especially old friends like Hattie. Give us words to say that might help her in whatever decision making she must do, and thank you for the provision of this food. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”

They ate in silence, Buck noticing that Hattie’s eyes were full of tears. Despite that, she ate quickly and was done before the rest. She grabbed yet another tissue and blew her nose.

“Well,” she said, “Rayford insisted that I drop in on you on my way back. I’m sorry I missed him, but I think he really wanted me to talk to you anyway. Or maybe he wanted you to talk to me.”

The women looked as puzzled as Buck felt. That was it? The floor was theirs? What were they supposed to do? It was hard to meet this woman at her point of need if she wasn’t going to share that need.

Loretta began. “Hattie, what’s troubling you the most just now?”

Either what Loretta said or how she said it unleashed a torrent of tears. “Fact is,” Hattie managed, “I want an abortion. My family is encouraging me that way. I don’t know what Nicolae will say, but if there’s no change in our relationship when I get back there, I’m going to want an abortion for sure. I suppose I’m here because I know you’ll try to talk me out of it, and I guess I need to hear both sides. Rayford already gave me the standard right-wing, pro-life position. I don’t guess I need to hear that again.”

“What do you need to hear?” Buck said, feeling very male and very insensitive just then.

Chloe gave him a look that implied he should not push. “Hattie,” she said, “you know where we stand. That’s not why you’re here. If you want to be talked out of it, we can do that. If you won’t be talked out of it, nothing we say will make any difference.”

Hattie looked frustrated. “So, you think I’m here to get preached at.”

“We’re not going to preach at you,” Amanda said. “From what I understand, you know where we stand on the things of God as well.”

“Yes, I do,” Hattie said. “I’m sorry to have wasted your time. I guess I have a decision to make about this pregnancy, and it was foolish of me to drag you into it.”

“Don’t feel like you have to leave, darlin’,” Loretta said. “This is my house, and I’m your hostess, and you might risk offendin’ me if you were to leave too early.”

Hattie looked at her as if to be sure Loretta was teasing. It was clear that she was. “I can just as easily wait at the airport,” Hattie said. “I’m sorry to have put you through all this inconvenience.”

Buck wanted to say something but knew he couldn’t communicate at this level. He looked into the eyes of the women, who intently watched their guest. Finally, Chloe stood and walked behind Hattie’s chair. She put her hands on Hattie’s shoulders. “I have always admired and liked you,” she said. “I think we could have been friends in another situation. But Hattie, I feel led to tell you that I know why you came here today. I know why you followed my dad’s advice, though you may have done it against your will. Something tells me your visit home was not successful. Maybe they were too practical. Maybe they didn’t give you the compassion you needed along with their advice. Maybe hearing that they wanted you to end this pregnancy was not what you really wanted.

“Let me just tell you, Hattie, if it’s love you’re looking for, you came to the right place. Yes, there are things we believe. Things we think you should know. Things we think you should agree with. Decisions we think you should make. We have ideas about what you should do about your baby, and we have ideas about what you should do about your soul. But these are personal decisions only you can make. And while they are life-and-death, heaven-and-hell decisions, all we can offer is support, encouragement, advice if you ask for it, and love.”

“Yeah,” Hattie said, “love, if I buy into everything you have to sell.”

“No. We are going to love you anyway. We’re going to love you the way God loves you. We’re going to love you so fully and so well that you won’t be able to hide from it. Even if your decisions go against everything we believe to be true, and even though we would grieve over the loss of innocent life if you chose to abort your baby, we won’t love you any less.”

Hattie burst into tears as Chloe rubbed her shoulders. “That’s impossible! You can’t love me no matter what I do, especially if I ignore your advice!”

“You’re right,” Chloe said. “We are not capable of unconditional love. That’s why we have to let God love you through us. He’s the one who loves us regardless of what we do. The Bible says he sent his Son to die for us while we were dead in our sins. That’s unconditional love. That’s what we have to offer you, Hattie, because that’s all we have.”

Hattie stood awkwardly, and her chair scraped the floor as she turned to embrace Chloe. They held each other for a long minute, and then the entire party moved into the other room. Hattie tried to smile. “I feel foolish,” she said, “like a blubbering schoolgirl.”

The other women didn’t protest. They didn’t tell her she looked fine. They simply looked at her with love. For a moment Buck wished he was Hattie so he could respond. He didn’t know about her, but this sure would have won him over.

“I’ll get right to it,” Peter Mathews told Carpathia. “If there are ways we can help each other, I want to know what you need. Because there are things I need from you.”

“Such as?” Carpathia asked.

“Frankly, I need amnesty from One World Faith’s debt to your administration. We might be able to pay back some of our allotment someday, but right now we just don’t have the income.”

“Having trouble selling off some of those surplus church buildings?” Carpathia said.

“Oh, that’s part of it, but a very small part. Our real problem lies with two religious groups who not only have refused to join our union, but who are also antagonistic and intolerant. You know who I’m talking about. One group is a problem that you caused yourself by that agreement between the Global Community and Israel. The Jews have no need for us, no reason to join. They still believe in the one true God and a Messiah who’s supposed to come in the sky by and by. I don’t know what your plan is after the contract runs out, but I could sure use some ammunition against them.

“The other bunch are these Christians who call themselves tribulation saints. They’re the ones who think the Messiah already came and raptured his church and they missed it. I figure if they are right, they’re kidding themselves to think he’d give them another chance, but you know as well as I do they’re growing like wildfire. The strange thing is, a whole bunch of their converts are Jews. They’ve got these two nuts at the Wailing Wall telling everybody that the Jews are halfway there with their belief in the one true God, but that Jesus is his Son, that he came back, and that he’s coming back again.”

“Peter, my friend, this should not be strange doctrine to you as a former Catholic.”

“I didn’t say it was strange to me. I just never realized the depth of the intolerance that we Catholics had and that those tribulation saint–types have now.”

“You have noticed the intolerance too?”

“Who hasn’t? These people take the Bible literally. You’ve seen their propaganda and heard their preachers at the big rallies. There are Jews buying into this stuff by the tens of thousands. Their intolerance hurts us.”

“How so?”

“You know. The secret to our success, the enigma that is One World Faith, is simply that we have broken down the barriers that used to divide us. Any religion that believes there’s only one way to God is, by definition, intolerant. They become enemies of One World Faith and thus the global community as a whole. Our enemies are your enemies. We have to do something about them.”

“What do you propose?”

“I was about to ask you that very question, Nicolae.”

Rayford could only imagine Nicolae wincing at Mathews’ referring to him by his first name.

“Believe it or not, my friend, I have already given this a great deal of thought.”

“You have?”

“I have. As you say, your enemies are my enemies. Those two at the Wailing Wall, the ones the so-called saints refer to as the witnesses, have meant no end of grief for me and my administration. I do not know where they come from or what they are up to, but they have terrorized the people of Jerusalem, and more than once they have made me look bad. This group of fundamentalists, the ones who are converting so many Jews, look to these two as heroes.”

“So, what conclusion have you come to?”

“Frankly, I have been considering more legislation. Conventional wisdom says you cannot legislate morale. I happen not to believe that. I admit my dreams and goals are grandiose, but I will not be deterred. I foresee a global community of true peace and harmony, a utopia where people live together for the good of each other. When that was threatened by insurrection forces from three of our ten regions, I immediately retaliated. In spite of my long-standing and most sincere opposition to war, I made a strategic decision. Now I am legislating morale. People who want to get along and live together will find me most generous and conciliatory. Those who want to cause trouble will be gone. It is as simple as that.”