Nicolae: The Rise Of The Antichrist (20 page)

“This would not happen to have the Old Testament in Hebrew?” Tsion said.

“No, but those programs are widely available.”

“At least they are now,” Tsion said, a sob still in his throat. “My most recent studies have led me to believe that our religious freedoms will soon become scarce at an alarming pace.”

“What would you like to see, sir?” At first Buck thought Tsion had not heard his question. Then he wondered if Tsion had spoken and he himself had not heard the answer. The computer ground away, bringing up a menu of Old Testament books. Buck stole a glance at his friend. Clearly, he was trying to speak. The words would not come.

“I sometimes find the Psalms comforting,” Buck said. Tsion nodded, now covering his mouth with his hand. The man’s chest heaved and he could hold back the sobs no longer. He leaned over onto Buck and collapsed in tears. “The joy of the Lord is my strength,” he moaned over and over. “The joy of the Lord is my strength.”

Joy, Buck thought. What a concept in this place, at this time. The name of the game now was survival. Certainly joy took on a different meaning than ever before in Buck’s life. He used to equate joy with happiness. Clearly Tsion Ben-Judah was not implying that he was happy. He might never be happy again. This joy was a deep abiding peace, an assurance that God was sovereign. They didn’t have to like what was happening. They merely had to trust that God knew what he was doing.

That made it no easier. Buck knew well that things would get worse before they ever got better. If a man was not rock solid in his faith now, he never would be. Buck sat in that damp, moist, earthen hideout in the middle of nowhere, knowing with more certainty than ever that he had put his faith in the only begotten Son of the Father. With his bent and nearly broken brother sobbing in his lap, Buck felt as close to God as he had the day he trusted Christ.

Tsion composed himself and reached for the computer. He fumbled with the keys for a minute before asking for help. “Just bring up the Psalms,” he said. Buck did, and Tsion cursored through them, one hand on the computer mouse and the other covering his mouth as he wept. “Ask the others to join us for prayer,” he whispered.

A few minutes later, the six men knelt in a circle. Tsion spoke to them briefly in Hebrew, Michael quietly whispering the interpretation into Buck’s ear. “My friends and brothers in Christ, though I am deeply wounded, yet I must pray. I pray to the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. I praise you because you are the one and only true God, the God above all other gods. You sit high above the heavens. There is none other like you.

In you there is no variation or shadow of turning.”

With that, Tsion broke down again and asked that the others pray for him.

Buck had never heard people praying together aloud in a foreign language. Hearing the fervency of these witness-evangelists made him fall prostrate. He felt the cold mud on the backs of his hands as he buried his face in his palms. He didn’t know about Tsion but felt as if he were being borne along on clouds of peace. Suddenly Tsion’s voice could be heard above the rest. Michael bent down and whispered in Buck’s ear, “If God is for us, who can be against us?”

Buck did not know how long he lay on the floor. Eventually the prayers became groanings and what sounded like Hebrew versions of amens and hallelujahs. Buck rose to his knees and felt stiff and sore. Tsion looked at him, his face still wet but seemingly finished crying for now. “I believe I can finally sleep,” the rabbi said.

“Then you should. We’ll not be going anywhere tonight. I’ll make arrangements for after dark tomorrow.”

“You should call your friend,” Michael said.

“You realize what time it is?” Buck said.

Michael looked at his watch, smiled, shook his head, and said simply, “Oh.”

“Alexandria?” Ken Ritz said by phone the next morning. “Sure, I can get there easily enough. It’s a big airport. When will you be along?”

Buck, who had bathed and washed out a change of clothes in a tiny tributary off the Jordan, dried himself with a blanket. One of Tsion Ben-Judah’s Hebrew-speaking guards was nearby. He had cooked breakfast and now appeared to roast Tsion’s socks and underwear over the small fire.

“We’ll leave here tonight, as soon as the sky is black,” Buck said. “Then, however long it takes a forty-foot wood boat with two outboard motors and six adult men aboard to get to Alexandria-”

Ritz was laughing. “This is my first time over here, as I think I told you,” he said, “but one thing I’m pretty sure about: if you think you’re coming from where you are to Alexandria without carrying that boat across dry land to the sea, you’re kidding yourself.”

At midday all six men were out of the dugout. They were confident no one had followed them to this remote location and that as long as they stayed out of sight from the air, they could stretch their legs and breathe a little.

Michael was not as amused at Buck’s naivete as Ken Ritz had been. He found little to smile about and nothing to laugh about these days. Michael leaned back against a tree.

“There are some small airports here and there in Israel,” he said. “Why are you so determined to fly out of Egypt?”

“Well, that dream-I don’t know, this is all new to me. I’m trying to be practical, listen to the witnesses, follow the leadings of God. What am I supposed to do about that dream?”

“I’m a newer believer than you, my friend,” Michael said. “But I wouldn’t argue with a dream that was so clear.”

“Maybe we have some advantage in Egypt we would not have in Israel,” Buck suggested.

“I can’t imagine what,” Michael said. “For you to legally get out of Israel and into Egypt, you still have to go through customs somewhere.”

“How realistic is that, considering my guest?”

“You mean your contraband cargo?”

Now there had been an attempt at humor, but still Michael had not smiled when he said it.

“I’m just wondering,” Buck said, “how carefully customs officers and border guards will be looking for Dr. Ben-Judah.”

“You’re wondering? I’m not wondering. We either avoid the border crossings or seek yet another supernatural act.”

“I’m open to any suggestion,” Buck said.

Rayford was on the phone with Amanda. She had filled him in on everything. “I miss you more than ever right now,” he told her.

“Having me come back here was sure the right idea,” she said. “With Buck gone and Chloe still tender, I feel needed here.”

“You’re needed here too, sweetheart, but I’m counting the days.”

Rayford told her about his conversation with Hattie and her plans to fly to the States.

“I trust you, Rayford. She sounds like she’s hurting. We’ll pray for her. What I wouldn’t give to get that girl under some sound teaching.”

Rayford agreed. “If she could only stop through our area on her way back. Maybe when Bruce is going through some chapter on-” Rayford realized what he had said.

“Oh, Ray-”

“It’s still too fresh, I guess,” he said. “I just hope God provides some other Bible teacher for us. Well, it won’t be another Bruce.”

“No,” Amanda said, “and it won’t likely be soon enough to do Hattie any good, even if she does come here.”

Late that afternoon, Buck took a call from Ken Ritz. “You still want me to meet you in Alexandria?”

“We’re talking about it, Ken. I’ll get back to you.”

“Can you drive a stick shift, Buck?” Michael asked.

“Sure.”

“An ancient one?”

“They’re the most fun, aren’t they?”

“Not as ancient as this one,” Michael said. “I’ve got an old school bus that smells of fish and paint. I use it for both professions. It’s on its last legs, but if we could get you down to the southern mouth of the Jordan, you might be able to use it to find a way across the border into the Sinai. I’d stock you with petrol and water. That thing’ll drink more water than it will gasoline any day.”

“How big is this bus?”

“Not big. Holds about twenty passengers.”

“Four-wheel drive?”

“No, sorry.”

“An oil burner?”

“Not as much as water, but yes, I’m afraid so.”

“What’s in the Sinai?”

“You don’t know?”

“I know it’s a desert.”

“Then you know all you need to know. You’ll be jealous of the bus engine and its water needs.”

“What are you proposing?”

“I sell you the bus, fair and square. You get all the paperwork. If you get stopped, the tags are traced to me, but I sold the bus.”

“Keep talking-”

“You hide Dr. Ben-Judah under the seats in the back. If you can get him across the border and into the Sinai, that bus should get you as far as Al Arish, less than fifty kilometers west of the Gaza Strip and right on the Mediterranean.”

“And what, you’ll meet us there with your wood boat and ferry us to America?”

Finally, Buck had elicited a resigned smile from Michael. “There is an airstrip there, and it’s unlikely the Egyptians will care about a man wanted in Israel. If they even seem to care, they can be bought.”

One of the other guards appeared to have understood the name of the seaport city, and Buck guessed he was asking in Hebrew for Michael to explain his strategy. He spoke earnestly to Michael, and Michael turned to Buck. “My comrade is right about the risk.

Israel might have already announced a huge ransom for the rabbi. Unless you could beat their price, the Egyptians might lean toward selling him back.”

“How will I know the price?”

“You’ll just have to guess. Keep bidding until you can beat it.”

“What would be your guess?”

“Not less than a million dollars.”

“A million dollars? Do you think every American has that kind of money?”

“Don’t you?”

“No! And anyone who did wouldn’t carry it in cash.”

“Would you have half that much?”

Buck shook his head and walked away. He slipped down into the hideout. Tsion followed. “What’s troubling you, my friend?” the rabbi said.

“I need to get you out of here,” Buck said. “And I have no idea how.”

“Have you prayed?”

“Constantly.”

“The Lord will make a way somehow.”

“It seems impossible right now, sir.”

“Yahweh is the God of the impossible,” Tsion said.

Night was falling. Buck felt all dressed up with nowhere to go. He borrowed a map from Michael and carefully studied it, looking north and south along the waterways that divided Israel from Jordan. If only there were a clear water route from the Jordan River or Lake Tiberius to the Mediterranean! Buck resolutely rerolled the map and handed it to Michael. “You know,” he said, thinking, “I have two sets of identification. I’m in the country under the name of Herb Katz, an American businessman. But I have my real ID

as well.”

“So?”

“So, how ‘bout we get me across the border as Herb Katz and the rabbi as Cameron Williams?”

“You forget, Mr. Williams, that even we ancient, dusty countries are now computerized. If you came into Israel as Herb Katz, there is no record that Cameron Williams is here. If he’s not here, how can he leave?”

“All right then, let’s say I leave as Cameron Williams and the rabbi leaves as Herb Katz. Though there is no record of my being here under my own name, I can show them my clearance level and my proximity to Carpathia and tell them not to ask any questions.

That often works.”

“There’s an outside chance, but Tsion Ben-Judah does not speak like an American Jew, does he?”

“No, but-”

“And he does not look in the least like you or your picture.”

Buck was frustrated. “We are agreed that we have to get him out of here, aren’t we?”

“No question,” Michael said.

“Then what do you propose? I am at an end.”

Dr. Ben-Judah crawled to them, obviously not wanting even to stand in the low, earthen shelter. “Michael,” he said, “I cannot tell you how grateful I am for your sacrifice, for your protection. I appreciate also your sympathy and your prayers. This is very hard for me. In my flesh, I would rather not go on. Part of me very much wants to die and to be with my wife and children. Only the grace of God sustains me. Only he keeps me from wanting to avenge their deaths at any price. I foresee for myself long, lonely days and nights of dark despair. My faith is immovable and unshakable, and for that I can only thank the Lord. I feel called to continue to try to serve him, even in my grief. I do not know why he has allowed this, and I do not know how much longer he will give me to preach and teach the gospel of Christ. But something deep within me tells me that he would not have uniquely prepared me my whole life and then allowed me this second chance and used me to proclaim to the world that Jesus is Messiah unless he had more use for me.

“I am wounded. I feel as if a huge hole has been left in my chest. I cannot imagine it ever being filled. I pray for relief from the pain. I pray for release from hatred and thoughts of vengeance. But mostly I pray for peace and rest so that I may somehow rebuild something from these remaining fragments of my life. I know my life is worthless in this country now. My message has angered all those except the believers, and now with the trumped-up charges against me, I must get out. If Nicolae Carpathia focuses on me, I will be a fugitive everywhere. But it makes no sense for me to stay here. I cannot hide out forever, and I must have some outlet for my ministry.”

Michael stood between Tsion and Buck and put his hands on them. “Tsion, my friend, you know that my compatriots and I are risking everything to protect you. We love you as our spiritual father, and we will die before we see you die. Of course we agree that you must go. Sometimes it seems that short of God sending an angel to whisk you away, no one as recognizable and as much a fugitive as you could slip past Israeli borders. In the midst of your pain and suffering, we dare not ask you for counsel. But if God has told you anything, we need to hear it and we need to hear it now.

“The sky is getting black, and unless we want to wait another twenty-four hours, the time to move is now. What shall we do? Where shall we go? I am willing to lead you through customs at any border crossing with weapons, but we all know the folly of that.”