The Left Behind Collection: All 12 Books (323 page)

“You okay?”

“Ten-four. GC troops in the woods, sir.”

“Irene with you?”

“Negative.”

“The DEW?”

“Affirmative.”

“On my way. How many?”

“Guessing two dozen, sir.”

“Come back?”

“Minimum twenty-four.”

“Roger. Be sure you’re clear, cease radio transmission, and return to rendezvous ASAP.”

“Roger.”

So much for bluffing Stefanich. Either he wasn’t buying or he’s royally stupid.

“Johnson to Irene . . . Johnson to Irene . . . Johnson to Irene. Do you read?”

Mac looked at his watch, kicked the ground, pressed his lips together, and waited for Hannah.

Chloe stood in the bramble, finger on the trigger, feet spread in the mushy ground. The Peacekeepers stopped on the road, facing her position, close enough that she could hear their breathing. All six set their weapons at the same time. She could barely see them and assumed they could not see her. She held her breath and did not move.

“GC!” one called out. “Who goes there?”

Chloe entertained the hope that they would all six decide they hadn’t really heard anything.

“Show yourself or we spray the area!”

“Friend!” she called out. “GC here too. Sister on assignment. Cool your jets.”

“Armed?”

“Holding it over my head, Peacekeeper. Ten-to-one I outrank you, so don’t do anything rash.”

A big flashlight made her squint. Holding the Uzi over her head, she said, “Turn that thing off! We’re all here on the same assignment.”

The light went off. “Hand over the weapon, ma’am, and we’ll sort this out.”

“No, we’ll sort it out first. Now I’m tucking it under my arm to show my papers. Stand down now. So far you’ve been by the book and I can’t fault you.”

“Thank you. I’m going to need to turn the light onto your docs, ma’am.”

“Hold on, I got a smaller beam. Going into the pocket.”

With the weapon tucked and pointing her small flashlight at her papers, Chloe’s heart drumrolled against her chest.

“Superior officer, guys,” the leader said. “Salute.”

“No need,” Chloe said. “Good job. A little sloppy on the march, but at least you’re on time.”

“What were you doing in the bushes, ma’am?”

“Following orders. Now wait here for my CO and another officer, and we’ll go together.”

“That Uzi’s not official issue, is it?”

“Something to look forward to.”

“Really?”

“At my level it is.”

“Wow.”

“We still reasonably on schedule?” she said.

“About twenty minutes early, ma’am.”

“Stand by, gentlemen.” Chloe pulled out her radio and turned it on. “Officer Irene to Senior Commander Johnson.”

“Johnson! Oh, man!”

“Senior Commander!”

Chloe turned to the Peacekeepers. “A little decorum, please.”

“Johnson, go ahead.”

“Sir, I’ve met up with six Peacekeepers who will join us on the assignment. Standing by for you approximately 480 meters east of your position.”

“Six?”

“Ten-four.”

“Everything copacetic, Irene?”

“Ten-four.”

“For all I know, we could be surrounded,” Mac told Hannah. “You sure you weren’t seen?”

“Positive.”

“What is going on?” He called Chang and filled him in. “What do you think Stefanich is up to?”

“I’m in his mainframe, Mac, and there’s nothing there. Could be as bad as they’re onto you, or he’s still trying to cover.”

“But what’s he need all these people in the woods for? They mustering here for the midnight raid?”

“Seems out of the way.”

“Sure does. Unless they’re wrong about the location of the underground headquarters. We’re not far from where the pastor hid out Rayford. You think they’ve finally discovered that?”

“You’re a good thirty miles from there, Mac. I’ll stay on it, but I don’t know what to tell you.”

Aristotle said, “All right, let’s go.”

Plato shoved George up. Someone opened his door, and it seemed Plato and Aristotle each took an arm and guided him, while Elena opened doors. They led him about fifteen feet, up three concrete steps, and inside. Then about twenty steps down a corridor that from the echoes seemed narrow. Finally into a larger room.

Aristotle let go of George and walked a few steps away. “Ach! I can’t reach it. Plato?”

“Give me that.”

George heard what sounded like metal being slotted into metal, then a couple of loud clicks. Plato grunted. “What’s the secret here?” he said.

“Let me get the other side,” Aristotle said, and he was replaced at George’s side by Elena.
If only I weren’t cuffed,
George thought. That was when he would have taken his chances. Coldcock the girl, whip off the blindfold, race back down that corridor and outside, and hope for the best. But not with his hands behind his back. Any hesitation and she would shoot him, he was sure.

Plato and Aristotle grunted, and Aristotle said, “Push him in, Elena. Come on, Plato and I have to get back.”

Elena guided George forward, turned him sideways, and tried to force him through an opening apparently being held on each side by the men. He didn’t fit. “Give me another couple of inches,” she said, and they grunted louder. She pushed George through.

“Hold on now,” Aristotle said. “I don’t want him found cuffed and blindfolded.”

Hands reached in and unlocked the cuffs. “Toss me the blindfold,” Elena said.

George slipped it off and saw he was inside a dark elevator. Elena had a weapon pointed at him.
Good thing for them,
George thought, because Plato and Aristotle were totally occupied holding the doors open. Elena took the blindfold, shoved it in a pocket, and pulled a bottle of water from another. She tossed it in and said, “Cheers,” as the doors slammed shut.

George let the bottle bounce on the floor and tried to get his fingers between the doors. Just when he had found purchase he heard the key slide into its hole again and the throwing of the lock. He heard water sloshing and felt around in the dark for the bottle. He uprighted it and decided to save what was left for as long as he could.

With his arms spread, George could touch the walls on each side, and as he made a quarter turn, he realized the enclosure was square. It didn’t surprise him that the buttons on a panel were not working, but he could tell from the pattern that he was in a four-story building. The ceiling was less than a foot above his head.

George felt for loose panels, missing screws, anything. Everything felt secure. A thin, plastic panel had to be the cover for the light. He removed that and felt a small, circular double fluorescent tube. Next to that was a mesh panel. He pushed up hard on the side until it gave way, then ripped it down. Now he could feel the fan blades, dusty, oily.

His body was already heating, and his breath was short. Were these people crazy? A malfunctioning elevator might make a perfect prison cell, but did they want him to suffocate? George shed his sweater and boots and socks and sat down, his back against the door. He found a boot and began swinging it backward over his shoulder against the door.

“Knock it off or I’ll put you out of your misery,” Elena called out. So they had left her alone to guard him. He wanted to tell her that if they didn’t want a dead hostage to show to the brass, they’d better at least get the fan running. But he was committed not to speak. Not a word. And so he kept banging.

Chang had a bad feeling. Since the day he had been left as the only mole at the GC Palace, he had never felt so helpless. Was it possible Stefanich was playacting? They seemed to have him intimidated, eager to please. Even if he had checked on Mac, Chang had everything in place to make Howie Johnson look legit. He was certain Stefanich was embarrassed to find he had doubted this high-level Johnson character and should now be trying to cover that he had ever doubted him.

Chang was desperate to find out how vulnerable Mac and Chloe and Hannah were. Could they be walking into an ambush? Time was against him, but it might be wrong to just tell Mac to abort. Maybe they could hot-wire the car at the shack and get back to the airport, but Chang knew Mac wouldn’t abandon Sebastian. What if he was already dead? If Mac had been exposed, there was no reason for the GC to keep him alive.

Chang slapped his forehead with both palms.
Think! If they’re onto Mac, why are they? If you can find the connection, maybe you can figure out what they might do.

Chang started a global search, asking David Hassid’s superpowered engine to match anyone at high levels in the palace with the GC at Ptolemaïs. He even keyed in code breakers, in case the contact person feared someone within the palace was monitoring them. With the computer whirring away, darting through thousands of files in hundreds of locations, Chang fell to his knees.

“God, I have never asked you to override a piece of equipment. But you know a servant of yours designed this, and I want to serve you too. Help me think. Speed the process. Please let me protect these brothers and sisters. I know from what happened at Petra today that nothing is beyond you. We have lost so much to the enemy, and I know we will lose more before your ultimate victory. But don’t let the Greek believers suffer more. Not tonight. Protect the Co-op. And help me get Mac and Chloe and Hannah and George out of there.”