Soul Harvest: The World Takes Sides (14 page)

“I am not a doctor! You should refer to me as Commander Fortunato.”

“I’m not sure I’m going to be able to do that,” Rayford said with a sigh. “When did you get that title?”

“Truth be known, my title has recently changed to Supreme Commander. It was bestowed upon me by His Excellency.”

“This is all getting a little crazy,” Rayford said. “Wasn’t it more fun when you and I were just Rayford and Leon?”

Fortunato grimaced. “Apparently you are unable to take anything seriously.”

“Well, I’m serious about whatever it is you have to tell me about Rosenzweig.

Um, Dr. Rosenzweig.”

WHILE
he waited for Mrs. Cavenaugh, Buck thought about heading to the Range Rover so he could look up Ken Ritz’s number on his computer. If Ken could get him and Tsion to Israel, he was taking Chloe. He never wanted her out of his sight again.

He was about to step out when Mrs. Cavenaugh finally stirred. He didn’t want to startle her. He just watched her. When her eyes opened, he smiled. She looked puzzled, then sat up and pointed at him.

“You were gone, young man. Weren’t you?”

“Gone?”

“You and your wife. You lived with Loretta, didn’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“But you weren’t there yesterday morning.”

“No.”

“And your wife. I saw her! Is she all right?”

“That’s what I want to talk about, Mrs. Cavenaugh. Are you up to it?”

“Oh, I’m all right! I just have nowhere to stay. I got the dickens scared out of me, and I don’t care to see the remains of my house, but I’m all right.”

“Want to take a walk?”

“There’s nothing I’d like more, but I’m not going anywhere with a man unless I know his name.”

Buck apologized and introduced himself.

“I knew that,” she said. “I never met you, but I saw you around and Loretta told me about you. I met your wife. Corky?”

“Chloe.”

“Of course! I should remember because I liked that name so much. Well, come on, help me up.”

Thumbsucker hadn’t budged except to keep rocking. Homeless looked wary and held his bag tighter. Buck considered yanking one of their cots so he could get in and help Mrs. Cavenaugh off of hers. But he didn’t want a scene. He just stood at the end of her cot and reached for her. As she stepped off the end of the flimsy thing, the other end went straight up. Buck saw it coming at him over her head. He blocked it with his hand and it slammed back down with such a thunderous resound that Homeless cried out and Thumbsucker jumped two feet. He split the canvas cot when he came back down. It slowly separated, and he dropped out of sight. Homeless lowered his face into his sack, and Buck couldn’t tell if he was laughing or crying. Thumbsucker reappeared looking as if he thought Buck might have done that on purpose. Mrs. Cavenaugh, who missed it all, slipped her hand through Buck’s elbow, and they walked to where they could talk with more privacy.

“I already told this to one young man with disaster relief or some such, but anyway I thought all the racket was a tornado. Who ever heard of an earthquake in the Midwest? You hear about a little rattling and shaking downstate once in a while, but an honest to goodness earthquake that knocks over buildings and kills people? I thought I was smart, but I was a fool. I ran to the basement. Of course, ran is relative. It just means I didn’t go a step at a time, as usual. I went down those stairs like a little girl. The only pain now is in my knees.

“I went to the window to see if there was a funnel. It was bright and sunny, but the noise was getting louder and the house banged all around me, so I still figured I knew what it was. That’s when I saw your wife.” “Where, exactly?”

“That window is too high for me to see out. All I could see was the sky and the trees. They were really moving. My late husband kept a stepladder down there. I climbed just high enough so I could see the ground. That’s when your wife, Chloe, came running out. She was carrying something. Whatever it was was more important than putting something on her feet. She was barefoot.”

“And she ran where?”

“To your car. It’s stupid, but I hollered at her. She was holding her stuff in one arm and trying to unlock the car with the other, and I was yelling, ‘You don’t want to be outside, girl!’ I was hoping she’d put that stuff down and get in the car quick enough to outrun the funnel, but she wasn’t even looking up.

She finally got it open and started the car, and that’s when everything broke loose. I swear one of my basement walls actually moved. I’ve never seen anything like that in my life. That car started to move, and the biggest tree in Loretta’s yard tore itself right from the ground, roots and all. It took half Loretta’s yard with it and sounded like a bomb dropping in the street, right in front of her car.

“She backed up, and the tree on the other side of Loretta’s yard started to give way. I was still yellin’ at that girl like she could hear me inside the car. I was sure that second tree would land right on her. She jerked left, and the whole road twisted up right in front of her. If she had pulled onto that pavement a split second earlier, that street flipping up would have tipped her over. She must have been scared to death, one tree lying in front of her, one threatening to fall on her, and the street sticking straight up. She whipped around that first tree and raced right up the driveway into the garage. I was cheering for her. I hoped she’d have enough sense to get to the basement. I couldn’t believe a tornado could do that much damage without me seeing it. When I heard everything crash to the floor like the whole house was coming apart—well, of course, it was—I finally got it into my thick head that this wasn’t a tornado. When the other two trees in Loretta’s yard came down, that window blew out, so I climbed down and ran to the other end of the basement.

“When my front room furniture crashed into where I’d just been, I stepped over the sump pump and pulled myself up on the concrete cutout to the window. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was just hoping Chloe was where she could hear me. I screamed bloody murder out that window. She came out the side door white as a sheet, still barefooted and now empty-handed, and she went runnin’ to the back as fast as she could go. That was the last I saw of her. The rest of my house fell in, and somehow the pipes deflected everything a little and left me a tiny space to wait until somebody found me.”

“I’m glad you’re all right.”

“It was pretty exciting. I hope you find Chloe.”

“Do you remember what she was wearing?”

“Sure. That off-white dress, a shift.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Cavenaugh.”

The old woman stared into the distance and shook her head slowly.

Chloe’s still alive, Buck thought.

“The first thing Dr. Rosenzweig asked about was your well-being, Captain Steele.”

“I hardly know the man, Supreme Commander Fortunato,” Rayford said, carefully enunciating.

“Commander is sufficient, Captain.”

“You can call me Ray.”

Now Fortunato was angry. “I could call you Private,” he said.

“Oh, good one, Commander.”

“You’re not going to bait me, Captain. As I told you, I’m a new man.”

“Brand-new,” Rayford said, “if you really were dead yesterday and alive today.”

“The truth is, Dr. Rosenzweig next asked after your son-in-law, daughter, and Tsion Ben-Judah.”

Rayford froze. Rosenzweig couldn’t have been that stupid. On the other hand, Buck always said Rosenzweig was enamored of Carpathia. He didn’t know Carpathia was as much an enemy of Ben-Judah as the State of Israel was. Rayford maintained eye contact with the glaring Fortunato, who seemed to know he had Rayford on the ropes. Rayford prayed silently.

“I brought him up-to-date and told him your daughter was unaccounted for,” Leon said. He let that hang in the air. Rayford did not respond. “And what did you wish us to tell him of Tsion Ben-Judah?”

“What did I wish?” Rayford said. “I have no knowledge of his whereabouts.”

“Then why did Dr. Rosenzweig ask about him in the same breath with your daughter and son-in-law?”

“Why don’t you ask him?”

“Because I’m asking you, Captain! You think we weren’t aware that Cameron Williams aided and abetted his escape from the State of Israel?”

“Do you believe everything you hear?”

“We know that to be fact,” Fortunato said.

“Then why do you need my input?”

“We want to know where Tsion Ben-Judah is. It is important to Dr. Rosenzweig that His Excellency come to Dr. Ben-Judah’s aid.”

Rayford had listened in when that request was brought to Carpathia. Nicolae had laughed it off, suggesting his people make it appear he tried to help while actually informing Ben-Judah’s enemies where they could find him.

“If I knew the whereabouts of Tsion Ben-Judah,” Rayford said, “I would not tell you. I would ask him if he wanted you to know.”

Fortunato stood. Apparently the meeting was over. He walked Rayford to the door.

“Captain Steele, your disloyalty has no future. I say again, you will find me most conciliatory. I would consider it a favor if you would not intimate to Dr.

Rosenzweig that His Excellency is as eager to know the whereabouts of Dr.

Ben-Judah as he is.”

“Why would I do you a favor?”

Fortunato spread his hands and shook his head. “I rest my case,” he said.

“Nicolae, er, the poten—His Excellency has more patience than I. You would not be my pilot.”

“That’s correct, Supreme Commander. I will, however, be piloting this week when you pick up the rest of the Global Community boys.”

“I assume you’re referring to the other world leaders.”

“And Peter Mathews.”

“Pontifex Maximus, yes. But he’s not actually GC.”

“He has a lot of power,” Rayford said. “Yes, but more popular than diplomatic.

He has no political authority.” “Whatever you say.”

Buck walked Mrs. Cavenaugh back to her bunk, but before helping her settle, he approached the woman in charge of that area. “Does she have to be between these wackos?”

“You can put her in any open cot,” the woman said. “Just make sure her name sticker goes with her.”

Buck guided Mrs. Cavenaugh to a cot near other people her age. On his way out he approached the supervisor again. “What is anyone doing about missing persons?”

“Ask Ernie,” she said, pointing to a small, middle-aged man plotting something on a map on the wall. “He’s with GC, and he’s in charge of the transfer of patients between shelters.”

Ernie proved formal and distracted. “Missing persons?” he repeated, not looking at Buck but still working on his map. “First off, most of them are going to wind up dead. There are so many, we don’t know where to start.”

Buck pulled a photo of Chloe from his wallet. “Start here,” he said.

He finally had Ernie’s attention. He studied the picture, turning it toward the battery-powered lights. “Wow,” he said. “Your daughter?”

“She’s twenty-two. To be her dad I’d have to be at least forty.” “So?”

“I’m thirty-two,” he said, astounded at his vanity at a time like this. “This is my wife, and I was told she escaped from our house before the quake leveled it.”

“Show me,” Ernie said, turning toward his map. Buck pointed to Loretta’s block.

“Hmm. Not good. This was a worldwide quake, but GC has pinpointed several epicenters. That part of Mt. Prospect was close to the epicenter for northern Illinois.” “So it’s worse here?”

“It’s not much better anywhere else, but this is pretty much the worst of it in this state.” Ernie pointed to a mile stretch from behind Loretta’s block in direct line with where they were. “Major devastation. She would not have been able to get through there.” “Where might she have gone?”

“Can’t help you there. Tell you what I can do, though. I can blow her picture up and fax it to the other shelters. That’s about it.” “I’d be grateful.”

Ernie did the clerical work himself. Buck was impressed at how sharp the enlarged copy was. “We only got this machine working about an hour ago,” Ernie said. “Obviously, it’s cellular. You hear about the potentate’s communications company?”

“No,” Buck said, sighing. “But it wouldn’t surprise me to know he’s cornered the market.”

“That’s fair,” Ernie said. “It’s called Cellular-Solar, and the whole world will be linked again before you know it. GC headquarters calls it Cell-Sol for short.”

Ernie wrote on the enlargement, “Missing Person: Chloe Irene Steele Williams.

Age 22. 5′ 7”, 125. Blonde hair. Green eyes. No distinguishing marks or characteristics.” He added his name and phone number.

“Tell me where I can reach you, Mr. Williams. You know not to get your hopes up.”

“Too late, Ernie,” Buck said, jotting his number. He thanked him again and turned to leave, then returned. “You say they call the potentate’s communications network Cell-Sol?”

“Yeah. Short for—”

“Cellular-Solar, yeah.” Buck left, shaking his head.

As he climbed into the Range Rover, he felt helpless. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that Chloe was out there somewhere. He decided to drive back to Loretta’s another way. No sense being out without looking for her. Always.

It was late, and Rayford was tired. Carpathia’s office door was shut, but light streamed beneath the door. He assumed Mac was still there. Curious as he was, Rayford wasn’t confident Mac would honestly debrief him. For all he knew, Mac was spilling his guts about everything Rayford had said that day.

His top priority before sleep was to try to get through to Buck. At the communications command post he was told he had to have permission from a superior to use a secure outside line. Rayford was surprised. “Look up my level of clearance,” he said.

“Sorry, sir. Those are my orders.”

“How long will you be here?” Rayford asked.

“Another twenty minutes, sir.”

Rayford was tempted to interrupt Carpathia’s meeting with Mac. He knew Nicolae would give him permission to use the phone, and by barging in, he would show he was not afraid of His Excellency the Potentate meeting with his own subordinate.

But he thought better of it when he saw Fortunato had turned the light off in his office and was locking his door.