The Rapture: In The Twinkling Of An Eye (10 page)

Nicolae—trim, fit, working out daily—had felt a sudden rush of fatigue. He was trying to communicate with his spirit guide when he was driven to his knees.

“Worship me,” came the voice he would never forget from his first encounter with the being, “and I will communicate solely with you.”

“I am your servant,” Nicolae said, his voice weak and shaky.

“All will go with you if you can discipline yourself to never forget that, subject.”

“You have my word.”

“Your path is being cleared.”

“My path? My path to where?”

“Your path to the fulfillment of my promise.”

“The world and its kingdoms?”

No response.

Nicolae was tempted to repeat his question, but he knew from experience that the spirit had no patience and no interest in repeating the obvious. “I am ready,” he said.

“Do not run ahead of me.”

“Havel?”

“Do not.”

“If I have, it is only because—”

“If you had, I would have told you. Events currently set in motion will result in your initial ascension. Be prepared but do not be premature.”

“How more should I prepare? Spirit? How? Spirit? Do not depart from me! I wish only to do your bidding and accept what you have promised. Spirit? Spirit?”

Leon took an aircraft-to-ground call from Jonathan Stonagal. “I will be in Bucharest within two hours. You tell Carpathia that I—”

“Excuse me, Jonathan, but please do not forget that we are employees of Dr. Carpathia. You may feel free to tell him things, but I do not. I do his bidding.”

“We work for Carpathia, Leon? We? Perhaps you’re his lackey, but I most certainly am not. Now you be sure and tell him that Gheorghe Vasile has gotten the message and wants a truce. He needs more time, and—”

“Let me make myself perfectly clear as to where my loyalties lie, Jonathan. I am not your errand boy, nor your mouthpiece. I repeat, I do not tell Nicolae anything. If you have a message for him, come and tell him in person or call him yourself.”

“Listen, Fortunato, you’re going to find out who has the power here, and you’re not going to like what you

find. Do you think when Carpathia crashes and burns I’ll be even half interested in your services?”

“Then I’m gambling my professional life on a different horse, sir.”

“You sure are. Now I want a meeting with Carpathia at the airport when I arrive. And you had better call off your dogs in the meantime.”

“My dogs?”

“The people you have terrorizing Gheorghe and his people.”

“Did you want me to request an audience for you with Dr. Carpathia?”

“No! I want you and him at the airport when I arrive.”

“May I ask you a question, Mr. Stonagal?”

“Stop being so formal. What?”

“Is it fair to say that you are the instigator of this meeting?”

“Of course! Why? What’s your point?”

“It would be true then that you wish to see Nicolae, not him you?”

Silence.

“Are you there, Jonathan?”

“Would you quit being obtuse and tell me what you’re trying to say?”

“I thought you’d never ask. It seems to me that if you are the one asking for the meeting, protocol requires you to come Nicolae’s direction, not him yours.”

“I’ve flown halfway around the world! Now you tell him to meet me—”

“Oh no, you don’t understand, sir. I won’t be telling him anything. He doesn’t want to talk to you. You want to talk to him. If you would like me to pass along your request to his assistant, I’ll be happy to do that. She’ll get back to you with a time that might be convenient for you to drop in on him here.”

“What? Are you serious? The first thing I’ll do is have him fire you, you—”

“You may expect a call from Ms. Viv Ivins then, Jonathan. Good day.”

“Listen, Fortunato—”

“I said good day.”

Buck Williams’s intercom buzzed. “Yeah, Marge,” he said. Marge Potter was really his boss, Steve Plank’s, secretary, but due to a recent budget cut, she took some of his calls too.

“Dirk Burton for you from London. I just love his accent.”

“You know he’s Welsh.”

“I knew it was something like that.”

Dirk had been a classmate of Buck’s and working in the London Stock Exchange since graduation.

“Lefty, my friend, how are you?”

“Cameron, you really must come over here.” The usual levity was gone from Dirk’s voice.

“What now? The Illuminati? The Bilderbergers? The Trilateral Commission? Who’s meeting now to affect the heads of state all over the world?”

Not even a snicker. “You finished, Cameron?”

“Yeah, sorry, Dirk. What’s up?” | “You know I was right about Jonathan Stonagal being one of the biggest movers and shakers in the secret world of international finance.”

“Gotta give you that one.”

“And the head of the London Exchange, you know who…”

“Joshua Todd-Cothran, right.”

“Well, something’s brewing.”

“Pray tell.”

“You don’t sound serious, Cameron.”

“I am, Dirk. Really. You know I think you’re nutty but only a little. Tell me what you’ve got.”

“That’s just it. I don’t know what I’ve got. All I know is that Stonagal is on the move, apparently on his way to Eastern Europe, and he’s going to stop here to meet with Todd-Cothran on his way back.”

“Not unusual for a couple of big-money guys.”

“Maybe. But when they get together, things happen.”

“Okay, I’m listening.”

“I can’t say any more right now. There’s not much to tell. But once I find out anything about their meeting, can I call and leave a message at the secure center?” “Sure.”

“Dad,” Raymie said, “I’ve got a thing at school this week. An evening program.”

“Oh! Sorry, bud. Do well, but I’ve got a London flight this week.”

“Wish I could go.”

“Me too,” Rayford said, imagining how that would cramp his style should he ever follow through with any of his designs on Hattie Durham. “You’d love England.”

“I’ll be at the program,” Irene said.

“See?” Rayford said. “There you go.”

She was staring at Rayford.

“What?” he said. “I can’t do anything about my schedule.”

She nodded toward Raymie and whispered, “At least ask him.”

“Ask him what?” Rayford mouthed.

“About the program.”

“Yeah! Raymie, what’s your part in the program?”

“I play a tree.”

Rayford guffawed. “A tree! What do you have to do, bark?”

“Very funny, Dad. I’ve got lines. I’m a talking tree.”

“Well, I really wish I could be there.”

“After I phone this in, Nicolae, I need to tell you how far I have gone with Jonathan,” Leon said.

“Then hurry. I can hardly wait. And I have much to tell you as well.”

Leon checked the phone book for the number of the private school Gheorghe Vasile’s grandchildren attended.

As he dialed, Carpathia said, “You are certain your cell phone is untraceable?”

“Of course,” Leon said. “It is the latest in scrambled security code technology.” He held up a hand as a woman answered, announcing the name of the school. “I want you to listen carefully,” Leon said, “because I will say this only once. You may want to take a note.”

“Excuse me? Who is this?”

“One time,” Leon said. “A bomb has been planted in the school by members of the Romanian People’s Party. You have—”

“This is not funny! I’m going to hang up.”

“—exactly nine minutes to evacuate the building. I would urge you to remove the—”

“I don’t know who you think you are, but—”

“—students and personnel at least a quarter mile from the site. Eight minutes and forty-five seconds and counting. Good-bye.”

Fortunato put his phone away and sat across from Nicolae. He was shaking but not from fear. Rather from excitement.

“Leon,” Carpathia said, and Fortunato detected genuine admiration in his tone, “you are priceless.”

“Thank you, sir. I only wish I didn’t have to prove it to you every day.”

“I am getting the picture.”

“You may not, however, be so pleased at how far I have pushed Jonathan.” Leon told him of their conversation.

The younger man cackled and howled. “I love it!” he said. “Perfect! And correct! He wants to see me; I do not want to see him. Excellent. Of course, the fact of the matter is that I do now want to see him. Vasile will crack by the end of the day, and if he does not, it will be time to strike not just his livestock but also his loved ones.”

“I’m prepared. Now that we’ve taken the first step down this road, there’ll be no turning back.”

“I could not have said that better myself, Leon.”

Carpathia told Leon of his contact with the spirit world.

“That’s wonderful, Nicolae. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”

“But worth the wait. Your Romanian People’s Party was a stroke of genius, by the way. I will come out strongly against them as soon as I am given the chance. They will, of course, deny any connection with the harassment of Vasile.”

“Of course.”

“Let us see how long it takes your scheme to reach the news,” Carpathia said, releasing a screen from within the wall and tuning it to a news channel. Within moments camera-mounted helicopters showed frantic teachers running children out of the school, and the type on the screen read, Romanian People’s Party bomb threat… Securitate link scare with Vasile family horse fire…

As the men sat chortling, Fortunato grew suddenly serious. “But really,” he said, “should you not try to reach Jonathan? Surely you’re not ready to be independent of him just yet.”

“Soon.”

“But still.”

“No. He will call. And by the time he does, Vasile will have caved.”

“Look!” Fortunato said, pointing to the television.

Running text along the bottom of the screen announced: President of the Romanian Republic Gheorghe Vasile announces a press conference for two this afternoon. Resignation rumors flying.

As soon as technicians had swept the school and reported no explosive, every station moved to minute-

by-minute coverage of the speculation over Vasile’s press conference.

The man in line to succeed him immediately put to rest speculation about his own future. “I do not know President Vasile’s intentions,” he said. “But what he has endured in the last few hours would try any man. I have been told nothing, except not to expect to succeed him. I do not know what this means. If he were to step aside, and I pray that he does not, I would be entitled by law to be elevated to his chair, and I would pursue every legal recourse to ensure that.

“However, Gheorghe Vasile has long been a statesman and leader who has given his heart and soul to our motherland, and I hope he resists to the end any attempt by the cowardly minority party to force him from power.”

That elicited immediate denials on the parts of the leaders and the rank and file of the Romanian People’s Party, who pointed out that they would never stoop to such tactics, that such acts had never been their hallmark, and that thinking people would realize the lunacy of their even wanting to take credit for such.

A couple of hours before Vasile’s press conference, Viv Ivins entered the office where Leon and Nicolae sat staring at the TV. “Mr. Stonagal on the line for you, sir,” she said.

Nicolae pushed the speaker button, dismissed Ms. Ivins, and winked at Leon. “Jonathan! How good to hear from you! How are things in New York?”

“You know perfectly well I’m not in New York! We’re about to land here, and I want to see you.”

“I am in my office all afternoon. I will look forward to seeing you.”

“Come and meet me at the airport!”

“You are breaking up, Jonathan. I will see you here this afternoon then?”

“At the airport!”

“I think I have lost you, Jonathan. If you can hear me, know that I am honored by your visit and look forward to seeing you here.”

“Meet me at the airport, Nicolae! I know you can hear me!”

“I seem to have lost him, Leon. I hope he got my message. It will be good to see him, will it not?”

“It will!” Leon exulted, covering his mouth.

A few minutes later Leon’s phone rang, and he answered to Vasile himself.

“Will you stop at nothing, Mr. Fortunato?”

Nicolae waved at Leon and pantomimed taping his mouth shut. “He is likely recording,” he mouthed.

“Who’s calling, please?” Leon said.

“You know well who this is.”

“Your voice sounds familiar. You sound like the president of Romania. Is this President Vasile?”

“You know it is.”

“What an honor to hear from you, sir. To what do I owe the privilege?”

“I think you know that too.”

“Well, just let me say, I’ve been watching the news, and I can’t imagine what you must be going through. Is there anything I or any member of Nicolae Carpathia’s team can do for you? Anything at all?”

Nicolae was holding his stomach and looked nearly apoplectic with glee, making it difficult for Leon to maintain his composure. He could hear Vasile’s frustrated breathing.

“I was so sorry—we all were here, Dr. Carpathia included—to hear of the loss at your son’s horse farm. But tell me, are the grandchildren all right? That was horrifying for the whole country, let alone Grandfather, eh? I’ll bet that’ll be a precious reunion.”

“Let me talk to Carpathia.”

“I’m sorry, sir?”

“You heard me, Fortunato. Put him on.”

“I’m afraid he’s unavailable at the moment, Mr. President.”

“It is rather urgent. Are you not right there with him?”

“Oh no, sir, you’ve reached me in my own apartment downtown. You know this is my cell number. You might call his assistant, Ms.—”

“Give me that number!”

Carpathia pretended to clap and laugh aloud.

Fortunato passed along the number, and within seconds, the office phone rang, Viv buzzed Nicolae, and he picked up, indicating that Leon should listen in on the other phone.

“Yes, sir, Mr. President. A surprise but an honor to hear from you on what must be a very difficult day for you.”

“You have no idea.”

“Of course I do not.”

“Do we have to go through this charade, Carpathia?”