The Left Behind Collection: All 12 Books (249 page)

“Well, if you mean do I know the time difference, yes sir, I do.”

“You do.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m listening.”

“At this time of the year, there’s a nine-hour time difference.”

“Very good, Datillo. What time does that make it in New Babylon right now?”

“Uh, let’s see, they’re later than we are, so it’s, ah, 1330 hours.”

“Do I have to walk you through this, son?”

“I’m sorry, sir. I’m afraid so.”

“What is today, Squadron Leader?”

“Saturday, sir.”

“You lose. Try again. It’s after midnight, officer.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s Sunday morning already.”

“Which makes it what in New Babylon?”

“Sunday afternoon.”

“It’s Sunday afternoon in New Babylon, Datillo. Ring any bells?”

Datillo’s shoulders slumped. “It’s the funeral, isn’t it, sir?”

“Ding-ding-ding-ding! Datillo hits the jackpot! You’re aware of the moratorium on combat-related activity anywhere in the world during the funeral, are you not?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And every GC directive requires CPR, correct?”

“Concrete Peacekeeping Reasoning, yes, sir.”

“And the CPR behind this directive?”

“Um, that no untoward publicity crowd out the funeral as the top news story.”

“There you go. Now, Datillo, I can tell you’re an earnest young man. You and your people are going to evacuate this area. You may return at 1000 hours and torch this place, if I leave it standing. My people and I were onto this location long before you were, and we have already apprehended the occupants and evacuated the building. I have a crew here to comb the residence for evidence, and we should be finished by dawn. Do not return until 1000, and if you see smoke on the horizon before that, you’ll have no need to come then either. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, sir. Any way my people and I can assist, sir?”

“Only by following orders and leaving now. And I’ll make a deal with you, son. You don’t tell your superiors of the serious mistakes you made this morning, and I won’t either.”

“I appreciate that, sir.”

“I know you do. Now move out.”

Datillo saluted and trotted back to the middle Jeep. It popped a U-turn, as did the other two before falling in line behind it. And they raced off in the darkness.

The sky was so black that the lights of the palace courtyard came on automatically. The TV lights were trained on the coffin, and David was sure every eye but his was too. He searched and searched sector 53 for Annie, praying she would stand strong. He couldn’t locate her.

David turned back. Heat waves shimmered off the statue in the comparatively chilly air. The potentates appeared paralyzed. Even Fortunato had paled and wasn’t moving, his gaze on the casket. A rim of light along the horizon looked like the rim of hair on a bald man. Clouds of ebony and other deep shades, produced by smoke from the statue, hung ominously over the immense gathering. People stood stock-still, riveted. Brilliant lights bathed the platform.

David’s eyes were drawn to the body. What was that? Almost imperceptible movement? Or had it been his imagination? He had imagined a corpse’s chest rising and falling at a funeral before. But until now, Carpathia’s body hadn’t given even the illusion of life.

Carpathia’s left index finger lifted an inch off his wrist for an instant, then fell again. A few people gasped, but David assumed most had not seen it. Then it rose and fell twice. Next it lifted half an inch, uncurling as if pointing.

One of the potentates apparently saw that and recoiled, trying to back away but falling over a chair. As he scrambled to his feet and tried to exit, lightning struck ten feet from him and knocked him back to where he had been. He stood shakily and brushed himself off, reluctantly looking at Carpathia again.

Now the index finger twitched, and all the potentates stiffened. The guards went into assault position, as if prepared to shoot a dead body. Carpathia’s hands separated and rested at his sides. Those close enough began to weep, their faces contorted in terror. It seemed they wanted to escape but could not move.

Those ahead of David edged closer, careful to keep someone between them and the bier. Those in front held their ground or tried to step back, but no one behind them would have that.

Now it was clear that Carpathia’s chest did rise and fall. Many fell to their knees, hiding their eyes, crying out.

Nicolae’s eyes popped open. David stared, then tore his gaze away to see even Leon and the kings trembling.

The corpse’s lips separated, and Nicolae lifted his head until it pressed against the Plexiglas lid. Everyone within a hundred yards of the coffin, including Fortunato, collapsed, covering their faces but, David noticed, most peeking through intertwined fingers.

As if stretching, Carpathia tilted his head back, grimaced, and lifted his knees until they too met the lid of the casket. He straightened his left leg until his heel met the large rubber stopper and forced it free with a loud
thwock!
The plug flew out and knocked the cap off one of the prostrate guards. He dropped his weapon and rubbed his head as the projectile bounced and rolled and finally stopped under a chair.

With the vacuum seal broken, Carpathia slowly brought his hands to his chest, palms up, heels of his hands resting on the underside of the lid. Moans and gasps and shrieks came from the crowd for as far as David could see and hear. Everyone was on the ground now, either peering at the screens or trying to see the platform.

Carpathia lifted his knees again, ripping the massive stainless steel bolts free of the glass. Then he pushed mightily until the top end shattered loose. The lid, more than eighty pounds of Plexiglas, flew away from the coffin, bolts flying, and smashed into the lectern, knocking it over and taking the microphone with it.

Carpathia catapulted himself to a standing position in the narrow end of his own coffin. He turned triumphantly to face the crowd, and David noticed makeup, putty, surgical staples, and stitches in the box where Nicolae’s head had lain.

Standing there before now deathly silence, Nicolae looked as if he had just stepped out of his closet where a valet had helped him into a crisp suit. Shoes gleaming, laces taut, socks smooth, suit unwrinkled, tie hanging just so, he stood broad-shouldered, fresh-faced, shaven, hair in place, no pallor. Fortunato and the seven were on their knees, hiding their faces, sobbing aloud.

Nicolae raised his hands to shoulder height and said loudly enough for everyone to hear, without aid of a microphone, “Peace. Be still.” With that the clouds ascended and vanished, and the sun reappeared in all its brilliance and heat. People squinted and covered their eyes.

“Peace be unto you,” he said. “My peace I give you. Please stand.” He paused while everyone rose, eyes still locked on him, bodies rigid with fear. “Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in me.”

Murmuring began. David heard people marveling that he was not using a microphone, but neither was he raising his voice. And yet everyone could hear.

It was as if Carpathia read their minds. “You marvel that I speak directly to your hearts without amplification, yet you saw me raise myself from the dead. Who but the most high god has power over death? Who but god controls the earth and sky?”

Hands still raised, he spoke gently. “Do you still tremble? Are you still sore afraid? Fear not, for I bring you good tidings of great joy. It is I who loves you who stands before you today, wounded unto death but now living . . . for you. For you.

“You need never fear me, for you are my friends. Only my enemies need fear. Why are you fearful, O you of little faith? Come to me, and you will find rest for your souls.”

David nearly fainted from nausea. To hear the words of Jesus from this evil man, whom Dr. Ben-Judah taught was now indwelt, Satan incarnate, was almost more than he could take.

“Only he who is not with me is against me,” Carpathia continued. “Anyone who speaks a word against me, it will not be forgiven him. But as for you, the faithful, be of good cheer. It is I; do not be afraid.”

David searched for Annie again, knowing that no one around him was even aware he was not paying attention to Carpathia. How he wished he could see her, know she was all right, communicate to her that she was not alone, that other believers were here.

“I want to greet you,” Carpathia said. “Come to me, touch me, talk to me, worship me. All authority has been given to me in heaven and on earth. I will be with you always, even to the end.”

The line that had frozen in place still did not move. Carpathia turned to Fortunato and nodded, gesturing to the guards. “Urge my own to come to me.” Slowly the guards rose and began to nudge the people toward the stairs again. “And as you come,” Carpathia continued, “let me speak to you about my enemies. . . .”

Tsion had sat praying as vehicles approached the safe house from two directions. “Is this the end, Lord?” he said. “I so long to come to you. But if it is not the due time for my beloved brothers and sisters and me to give our lives for you, give us all strength and wisdom.”

The vehicles stopped, and he heard shouting. Tsion moved to the corner of the cellar where he could hear. A Middle Eastern GC commander was calling out a squadron commander. Tsion tried to slow and regulate his breathing so he could hear every word. Was that Albie, the one he had just spoken to, pretending to be GC? Or
was
he GC? He was so convincing, so knowledgeable. How could a man know so much about systems and procedures without being on the inside? Or perhaps he once was and had turned. Tsion could only hope.

Whatever he was, Albie had driven off the squadron commander and his men, and Tsion knew his friends would now come for him. His first order of business? He turned the power back on and fired up the TV. His phone rang.

“Dr. Ben-Judah,” Albie said, “are you down there and all right?”

“I am fine and watching the funeral on TV. Come down and see.”

“Do you want to come and let us in?”

“Break in! I want to watch this live, and we’re not staying anyway, are we?”

Albie chuckled and the back door was kicked in. Footsteps. The freezer door opened, the rack pulled aside, footsteps on the stairs. Albie entered, followed by Chloe, who raced to pull Kenny from his crib and smother him with kisses. Then Rayford, looking grave even as he embraced Tsion.

“The others are coming,” Rayford said.

“Yes, yes, and praise God,” Tsion said. “But watch this. A great storm has invaded the palace courtyard, and I am convinced the hour is near.”

Buck limped gingerly down the stairs and found Chloe and Kenny. Leah followed, carefully aiding Chaim. Bandaged, mute, and fragile, still he forced a grin when he saw Tsion, and the countrymen embraced. “I praise the Lord for you, my brother,” Tsion said. “Now sit and watch.”

“We want to get this done before dawn, people,” Albie said. “I don’t think our young friend will return until ten, but we’d better not test him.”

“Are we really going to torch this place once we’ve got what we want?” Rayford said.

Tsion tried to shush them, but both ignored him. He turned up the TV. “This seems pretty risky,” Buck said, emerging from the bedroom with Chloe and Kenny, “partying down here with GC in the area.”

“I believe the indwelling is about to occur,” Tsion announced.

“Record it, Tsion!” Rayford said. “We’ve got work to do and fast.”

“I am confident Albie’s ruse was successful,” Tsion said. “At least I hope so.”

Rayford approached him. “Doctor,” he said, “I’m back and I’m in charge, and I need to pull rank, despite my respect for you. Record that and let’s get packing.”

Tsion read such confidence and also concern in Rayford that he immediately hit Record. “Chaim, you can’t work in your condition. Monitor this for me until we have to go.” He hurried upstairs.

“Bring only what you can carry on your lap,” Rayford announced. “Tying stuff atop the car would attract too much attention.”

As Tsion busied himself, he worried about Rayford. It was natural for them all to be relieved and yet worried they were not out of the woods yet. Rayford was plainly agitated about something. After Tsion gave his room one last cursory glance for any indispensables, he saw Rayford pull Albie into Buck and Chloe’s empty first-floor bedroom.