Hidden in Dreams (21 page)

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Authors: Davis Bunn

BOOK: Hidden in Dreams
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Jacob said, “I see.”

The three of them left the building and walked into the oppressive afternoon. Jacob came because Elena insisted. She knew Reed would have preferred to release her hand, but she insisted on that too. It was time for action. She needed these men to be with her. Together. On her terms.

Elena said, “I have an idea and I need your help. Both of you.”

The heat was almost stifling. The surrounding buildings blocked the afternoon breeze. Their steel-and-glass surfaces formed walls of shimmering mirrors. Reed Thompson squinted at the sunlit headquarters while Elena talked. Jacob stared at the grass and the flowers still damp from the passing storm. When she finished, Reed said, “This is a good plan.”

“Jacob?”

“I can do this.”

“I know you can. Will you?”

“Yes. All right.” He hesitated, then asked, “What if Suarez is wrong and the dreams are for real?”

“We’ll know in two days.”

“Can we wait that long?” Jacob lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Can the world?”

She was about to try to explain what was happening at the core of her being. How the time of prayer and the company of believers seemed to be pulling her away from the dreams. How the previous day’s conversation with Agatha Hune and Senator Suarez had helped crystallize these feelings. How she had already begun to withdraw from the group and its direction.

But Elena stopped before the words were formed, because Reginald Pierce emerged from the lobby’s front entrance, spotted them, and hurried over. “Trevor Tenning wants to see you.”

“Me? Now? Why—”

“He didn’t tell me.” The sunlight only heightened the man’s
taut features. “Elena, he says to tell you that it is extremely important, and insists that you meet with him alone.”

•    •    •

A litany of devastating financial news tracked Elena as she traversed the lobby. Reginald accompanied her to the penthouse, where they entered a frozen tableau. The normal clusters of intense discussions had been wrecked, the people drawn to the screens, which displayed a soft dirge of worry and fear. All of the heads turned to watch her progress, which was hardly a surprise, as Elena saw her own face there on the screens, flashed into acute clarity by the photographers.

Trevor Tenning’s office was a study in contrasts. SuenaMed’s CEO actually greeted her with a smile. “Reginald found you. Excellent. Thank you for coming. Please, won’t you take a seat. Coffee?”

“No thank you.”

He asked Reginald, “Were you able to locate Rachel?”

“She’s still tied up with the conference call you were supposed to take. The one with Europe’s licensing committee.”

Trevor pursed his lips. “Perhaps we should delay our launch.”

Reginald blanched. “The products are in place. Doctors have already begun writing prescriptions. Clinics all over the world—”

“All right.” Tenning did not need to raise his voice to silence the young man. “But we could make it low-key. Hold off on all publicity until this has passed.”

Elena realized, “You think the crisis will be averted.”

Tenning used a finger to direct Reginald out of his office. When the door closed, he replied, “I don’t think. I know.”

“How is that possible?”

Tenning’s smile was genuine. “Because I’ve had another dream.”

•    •    •

Trevor Tenning related how his latest dream had come near dawn. After being assaulted by the first dream of the night, he had thought he was not going to fall back to sleep. He had actually gone downstairs to make a pot of coffee, then lay down on the sofa in his study and was gone. That was how he put it. He had shut his eyes and was transported into yet another dream.

Only this time there was no worry or despair or fear. Just the opposite. The dream had been so fine he had actually regretted its passage.

Elena sat across the desk and watched as the SuenaMed CEO’s face effused an ethereal glow. She felt a deep disharmony, a conflict of sensations. On the one hand, she doubted what she was seeing. She could not help it. Up to this point, the dreams had all followed a distinct pattern. They came to everyone on the same night. And they had all been terrible to behold.

And yet, at the same time, Elena found herself vaguely jealous. Why should he be granted this and not her, or the rest of them? Because the light in his eyes, or the relaxed stance, or the smile, all of this seemed genuine.

Tenning’s second dream had shown a way out. The world’s banks needed to unite. Create one cohesive force, large enough to reintroduce a balance into the world’s markets.

“It seemed so self-evident, once it was revealed,” Tenning told her. “Only if the major financial institutions are to join together can we create a structure large enough to overcome this turmoil.”

Elena asked, “Was that the end of the dream?”

Not quite. The combined banks issued their own currency. In his dream, Trevor Tenning had actually held one of the bills. Across its face were written the same words in an array of languages—
One World Currency
. As soon as his fingers had
touched the money, Trevor had lit up with joy. He had woken with the same sense of bliss that creased his features now as he spoke. He had opened his eyes knowing that everything was going to be all right.

Elena pointed out, “But you frowned your way through the conference call. I’ve never seen you look so worried.”

Tenning nodded approval at her comment. “Of course I was concerned that it was all a lie. I had experienced the night’s first dream, exactly like everyone else. But when the conference ended, I knew I had to act. So I phoned three friends. They are chairmen of banks in New York, Paris, and Tokyo. They of course know about the dreamers. They heard me out. The ridicule I expected did not come. Instead, all three told me they had been wondering about the same thing. The governments won’t act. They’re tied up with voters and fear of losing power. Either the banks do this or it won’t happen. My three friends immediately called three other allies in the financial world. These called three more. Within an hour, the group was formed. I’ve been waiting—”

He stopped at the sound of knocking. His secretary opened the door and said, “Sorry to disturb you, sir. But you told me to let you know the instant one of those gentlemen called.”

“You did right, Mildred.”

“Mr. Takayama is on line three.”

“Thank you.” He lifted the receiver, punched the button, and said, “Tenning here.”

His delight shone from his eyes and his smile. “Wonderful news. Just wonderful.”

He hung up the phone and said, “It’s done.”

 

 

 

20

 

 

 

R
eed was waiting by his car when Elena emerged from the SuenaMed headquarters. She left her SUV in the company lot, choosing instead to ride back to Melbourne with Reed. Elena had no idea how she would get home from her afternoon class, and just then she did not care. From the road she phoned Jacob, who was at Orlando Airport, waiting to board his flight. She told him about the meeting in Trevor Tenning’s office. When she was done, the silence stretched out like the sunlit expressway connecting Orlando to the coast. Finally Jacob said, “You still want to go ahead with your plan?”

“Now more than ever,” Elena replied. A tiny knot burned at the center of her being. “Timing is crucial.”

“I understand.”

“We need to assume there are only two days left,” Elena went on. “Which means we need to begin our work immediately.”

“You sound so certain. It seems to me the dream pattern has been broken.”

“If the others have the same dream tonight as Trevor, the pattern is restored.”

Jacob wanted to argue further, but Elena disengaged and ended the call. She was done talking.

At the hour Reed turned on the radio and found a news channel. They listened in silence as the newscaster read the lead story. A new entity called One World Bank had submitted a bid to rescue the ailing New England Bank. The group was also reportedly taking actions to restore calm within the turbulent European markets. There were few details. One World Bank’s spokeswoman addressed the journalists with a heavy East Asian accent. When pressed, she said only that there would be plenty of time for particulars when the crisis had passed.

When the newscaster began a recap of that morning’s press conference, Elena reached over and turned it off.

Reed let a few miles roll past in silence before saying, “One World Bank. That’s uncomfortably close to a one world government.”

Elena did not respond.

“Some folks might even say in today’s world a single unified finance group would be a fair match to the warnings in the Book of Revelation.” He drummed two fingers on the wheel. “Especially if this group does what Tenning described happened in his dream, setting up a single currency. Forget the legal issues involved in all this. The crisis is so serious the governments closest to catastrophe could fall over themselves, signing on to whatever will save their political skin.”

Elena felt the coal burning more fiercely at the base of her gut and did not speak.

“If you were looking for a reason to manipulate dreams, I’d say world domination of the financial markets is a pretty solid motive.”

Elena stared at the Florida-flat highway. She felt her own steam rise to join with the storm looming over the eastern horizon.

Reed went on, “Say the group has actually been in place for months. They are made up of banks whose combined power is enough to rock the markets and topple governments. Their wings were clipped by the recent economic crisis. They see laws being put in place that rein in their ability to do whatever they want, whenever they please. They’re looking for a way to strengthen their hand, solidify their hold on international power.” Reed glanced over. “Feel free to chime in at any point here.”

“You’re pulling the thoughts straight from my own head,” Elena said.

“Say it’s real. Say they’re actually close to pulling off the scam of the millennium.” Reed shook his head at the prospect. “What on earth do we do?”

Elena turned in her seat so that her entire body was focused on him and not all the storms and uncertainties beyond their protected compartment. She felt anger pulse through her. “There’s no ‘if’ about this. They’re doing it. We can’t prove it. Yet. But we need to assume that it’s happening. They planned this meticulously. They brought me in because of my reputation in dream analysis. They convinced me it was all real by instilling the dreams inside my head. They made me the spokesperson. They
used
me.”

Reed slowed and looked over. His features were intensely grave as he repeated, “What do we do?”

“We pray. We plan. We act,” Elena replied. “And we bring them down.”

 

 

 

21

 

 

 

T
hirty minutes into Elena’s afternoon class, Reed Thompson’s assistant walked down the classroom’s center aisle with a note from Reed asking her to join him in the philosophy department as soon as her class was over. Elena thanked Reed’s aide, slipped the note into her pocket, and resumed her lesson. She loved these hours with the students, now more than ever. Their energy was invigorating. Teaching was the one thing that separated her fully from the gathering tempest.

Her progress from the classroom was slowed by a gaggle of students who blocked the exit. The young woman who had requested her autograph after the first class asked, “Can we have a minute, Dr. Burroughs?”

“I’m due at a meeting with Dr. Thompson. Sorry.”

The girl simply nodded and continued to block the aisle. “It’s just, we wanted to know if you were a believer.”

Elena searched her mind for a name to fit the face. She had always had a facility for names. But the past few days had taken their toll. Finally it came to her. “Brenda, isn’t it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Brenda Twyford. Third-year pre-med major.” Elena recited the facts mostly to show she was genuinely connected to Brenda and to this moment. “The answer to your question, Brenda, is yes. I believe, and I ask our Lord daily to help with my unbelief.”

“Cool. I mean, we just wanted you to know, we’ll be praying for you. All of us. Every day. It’s a promise.”

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