The Indwelling: The Beast Takes Possession (16 page)

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Authors: Tim Lahaye,Jerry B. Jenkins

Tags: #Adventure, #Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Adult, #Thriller, #Contemporary, #Spiritual, #Religion

BOOK: The Indwelling: The Beast Takes Possession
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“I had plotted an unlikely escape just on a lark. And here I am. Who would have believed it?”

Buck sat shaking his head. Chaim rolled back over, moaning. “You’re right,” he whispered. “It’s all on me. I did this to them. Oh, no, no, no …”

Buck heard voices below the window. Three vagrants sat sharing a bottle. “Which of you would like a fifty-Nick note?” he called down.

Two waved him off, but a young drunk stood quickly.

“What I gotta do?”

“Buy me some clothes and shoes with this twenty, and when you bring ‘em back, keep the change and get another fifty.”

The other two laughed and tried to sing. The young drunk squinted and let his head fall back. “How do you know I won’t run off with your twenty?”

“My risk,” Buck said. “Your loss. You want twenty or fifty?”

“Gimme,” the man said, reaching. Buck let the bill flutter down, which brought the other two to their feet to compete for it. The younger shoved them away and got it easily. Buck felt better about his chances when the man turned back to him and said, “What size?”

“No deal,” Abdullah said on the phone.

“What’s the problem?” David said.

“The guy had the fear of God in him. Wouldn’t let those discs out of his sight.

I didn’t even get the machine out of my bag. He said he’d stand there and watch while I logged them in, if I had to.”

“I just hope they’re not bringing them here to destroy them. They’re the only hope of exonerating Rayford.”

“Exonerating? What’s that mean?”

“Getting him off the hook.”

“No, sir,” Abdullah said. “He didn’t even have to pull the trigger to be guilty.

He drew down on Carpathia. What more do they need? He needs to stay as far away from here as he can.”

NINE

Seven Hours Later

DAVID
hated getting so little time with Annie, but he knew their exile was fast approaching. Then, if they could pull it off, they would be together as much as they wanted-and probably a long, long way from New Babylon.

What an incredibly beautiful city New Babylon would have been under other circumstances. Carpathia had employed the best architects and landscapers and designers and decorators. And except for the absence of any God-honoring works of art, the place looked magnificent, particularly at night. Great colored spotlights accented the massive, crystalline buildings. Only since the recent decimation of another huge percentage of the population and the resulting personnel shortages had the place begun to evidence the lack. It took longer for refuse removal or for lights to be repaired. Yet still the skyline was stunning, a man-made marvel.

As dusk crept over the horizon, David sat listening to Fortunate, Hickman, and Moon through the bug in Carpathia’s office. He couldn’t tell whether Leon was actually in Nicolae’s chair, but it sure sounded like it.

They were watching the videos that had been brought back from the Gala. David sat with his head in his hands, using earphones to be sure to catch every detail.

He wished he could see the videos, but that was not his call.

They played and replayed and replayed clips that included the gunshot. “See?”

Moon said. “He’s right down there, stage right, about three or four deep, there!

See? Pause!”

“I see it, Walter,” Leon said. “Good thing we’ve got fingerprints. I would not have been able to tell who that was in a million years.”

“Good getup,” Hickman said. “The gray hair stickin’ out of the turban. Nice touch. Robes. I woulda thought he was an Arab.”

“Some kinda raghead anyway.”

They all chuckled.

“Rayford Steele,” Leon said softly. “Who’d have believed that? Wouldn’t murder be against his religion?”

Laughter. Silence. Then, “I don’t know.” It was Hickman. “Maybe he convinces himself it’s a holy war. Then I guess everything goes.”

“Fact is,” Moon said, “he missed.”

“You look close,” Hickman said, “and he had a better shot earlier. He fires then, he’s our guy. But I don’t think he even meant to shoot when he did.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“Look. Slow motion, well, back it up a second first. Look! Right there! Somebody bumps him. A little person. A woman? Can you zoom?”

“I don’t know how to run these crazy machines,” Leon said. “We oughta get Hassid in here.”

“You want me to call him?”

“Maybe. Just a minute. Here, OK. Slow and zoomed. What do you see?”

“There!” Hickman said again. “She trips, loses her balance or somethin’. Ha!

Who’s that look like? Wally, who’s that remind you of?”

“Nah.”

“No? Come on! Who am I thinkin’ of?”

“I know who you’re thinking of, but we’ve got her eyeballed in North America.

Probably trying to get to her sister’s funeral. She doesn’t know it was a month ago.”

They chuckled again, and David picked up the phone. “Rayford,” he said, “maybe Hattie’s not on her way to the safe house yet. GC’s tracked her out west, trying to make her sister’s funeral.”

“That’s a relief. Maybe we’re OK for a while.”

“Don’t get overconfident. I uploaded a whole bunch of stuff to Chloe’s computer so you can see your new digs, if you need ‘em. Where are you?”

“Well, I was about to put down at Palwaukee when I heard from Leah. I’d been having trouble reaching T to see if he could go get her in Kankakee, southeast of here. She never got him either, so I’m on my way to get her. We’ll come back here and use Buck’s car to see if we can get to the safe house.”

“Call Tsion first. Last time I talked to him he said he thought he heard car noises.”

“That’s not good.”

“Tell me about it,” David said. “Hey, Leah might need A new alias.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“She’s been asking around about Hattie using that Clendenon name. They might try to follow her to Hattie.”

“They’re already onto Hattie. They don’t need Leah.”

“Whatever you say, Rayford. Just a thought.”

“I appreciate it.”

“You’d better be careful. They’re going to try to pin this on you.” David told him of the autopsy and evidence investigation.

“So I missed, just like you thought?”

“Looks pretty sure at this point.”

“Then how can they pin it on me?”

“What, they’re obligated to the truth? If you didn’t do it, someone on the platform did.”

“My money’s on one of the three insurgent kings,” Rayford said. “Probably Litwala.”

“Even if you’re right, you’re a less embarrassing assassin than somebody behind Nicolae. I’ll bet you’re the scapegoat.”

Buck had sat with the morose Chaim Rosenzweig the whole day. The old man had alternately slept and wept, threatening suicide. Buck wanted to go out and find them something to eat, but he didn’t dare leave Chaim.

The drunk came back to toss a bundle of used clothes up to the window, but he wasn’t interested in more money to find food. Once he had his fifty, he was gone.

Buck called the desk. “Anybody down there that could bring us some food for a fee?”

“What, you think we got room service?”

“Just tell me if you know anybody who wants to make a few Nicks.”

“Yeah, OK. When the concierge gets off his break, I’ll send ‘im up. You’ll recognize him by his tuxedo.”

Amazingly, ten minutes later someone knocked tentatively. Buck wished he had a gun. “Who is it?”

“I’ll get you food,” a man said. “How much?”

“Ten.”

“Deal.”

Buck sent him out for local fare. It was all he could do to get Chaim to eat a few bites. Presently, David called.

“Is it true?” he asked. “About Chaim?”

Buck was stunned. “What about him?”

“That he’s dead, burned up at his home along with his whole staff?”

“You know that’s not true, David. Hasn’t anyone told you I’m with him?”

“I’m just telling you what’s on television.”

“So that’s how they’re going to spin it? Hero statesman dies in a fire. That keeps him out of the conspiracy?”

“They’re convinced one of the three insurgents did it,” David said, “but that would be bad for morale. What’s Chaim’s theory? He was right there.”

“We need to talk about this later, David. I need to get him out of here.”

“How?”

“I finally got hold of T. He’s bringing the Super J. I directed him to a blocked-off road. We have to be there when he puts down so he can be in the air again before anyone’s the wiser. We’ll have to stop in Greece for fuel, though-wouldn’t want to risk it over here.”

Tsion was alarmed. Chloe was proposing madness. “Can I trust you with Kenny,”

she said, “that you won’t fall asleep?”

“I would give my life for that child, you know that. But you must not go. This is foolishness.”

“Tsion, I can’t sit here doing nothing. I have informed everybody in the co-op generally what’s going on, but there’s little I can do until the buying-selling restrictions are sanctioned. Don’t keep me from doing something worthwhile.”

“I am not your superior, Chloe. I could not deprive you of anything. I’m just urging you to think this through. Why must you go? And why must it be now?

Cameron’s car is at the airport. If you take the Suburban, you leave me with no vehicle.”

“You have nowhere to go, Tsion. You can’t outrun the GC anyway. Your best bet is to stay right here, listen for them, turn the power off if you hear them, and become invisible.”

Tsion threw up his arms. “I cannot dissuade you, so do what you are going to do.

But don’t be long.”

“Thank you. And promise me you will do anything but let Kenny fall into GC

hands.”

“I would die first.”

“I want him to die first.”

“That I will not do.”

“You would let them take him.”

“Over my body.”

“But don’t you see, Tsion? That’s how it will be! You’ll be a martyr, but you will still have lost Kenny to the enemy.”

“You’re right. You’d better stay here.”

“Nice try.”

“This is not a smart thing to do in broad daylight.”

“I’ll be careful.”

“Too late. You’re already being reckless.”

“Good-bye, Tsion.”

“What do you make of this?” Hickman was saying as David listened in.

“Ramblings,” Leon said. “Hallucinations. Gibberish. Not uncommon in such a situation.”

“But first he said that about thinking he had done all you asked. What was that about?”

“Nicolae was not addressing me! I have never, would never, could never ask him to do anything! Anyway, if he was talking to me, it would indicate that he thought I had attacked him.”

“But then what is his obsession with the-what does he call it?”

“The veil? Or the vale? What?”

“Listen. Listen to what he says.”

David pressed both earphones close and listened carefully. After Carpathia’s first lament, which echoed through the sound system, the PA system appeared to have failed, but his next words were picked up through the videodisc machine mike. “The veil,” Carpathia rasped. “Was it rent in twain from the top to the bottom?” Carpathia struggled to make himself understood. “Father,” he managed.

“Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

David shuddered.

The exchange reminded him of something he and Mac had heard from the morgue. He called Mac. “What was it Dr. Eikenberry said about reports of Nicolae’s last words?”

“Just that it would have been impossible.”

“That’s what I thought. Once she got in there and saw the damage, she said he wouldn’t have been able to speak, right?”

“Exactly.”

David re-cued the recording and found it.

“Well,” Dr. Eikenberry said, “this gives the lie to the ‘last words’ business, doesn’t it?”

“It sure does,” Pietr said. “Unless he could speak supernaturally.”

He and the doctor and Kiersten laughed. “This man could not have said a word,”

Dr. Eikenberry concluded.

“Maybe they want to invent something for posterity, but no one had better ask me if it was possible.”

A few minutes after nine in the morning, Central Standard Time, Rayford put the Gulfstream down in Kankakee. He had told Leah to watch for a smallish jet and to be ready to board quickly. But as he taxied by the terminal, he saw her sleeping in a chair by the window.

He left the jet whining on the tarmac, knowing how conspicuous that would look to ground control, and sprinted into the terminal. “Donna!” he said, as he approached. “Donna Clendenon!”

She jumped and squinted at him. “Do I know you?” she said, clearly terrified.

“Marv Berry,” he said, grabbing her bag. “We’ve got to go.”

“Hi, Marv,” she whispered. “You’ve got to tell a girl when you get a makeover.”

Rayford heard some kind of warning through the PA system, and a couple of orange-vested officials started his way. He ignored them and was airborne quickly, certain that Kankakee had no GC pursuit craft and little interest in a small jet flyer who had boorishly violated their protocols.

He told Leah, “All I get out of Palwaukee is a tower guy who says T is not there and won’t be back until tomorrow, and that he’s not at liberty to say where he went.”

“I got the same. What do you make of it?”

“I don’t know. Wish there was someone in his church I could ask. But T and I have never needed to communicate through third parties. He’s usually reachable by cell. He’s always wanted to be in on the action, and I need someone to go and ferry Buck and Chaim over here. I’m tempted to call Albie and see if he can find someone.”

“Now there’s a name I haven’t heard,” Leah said.

“Albie? Long story. Good guy.”

“So tell me.”

“Not until you and I clear up a few things.”

“Until you do, you mean,” she said.

Rayford told her what had happened to him in Israel, on the flight to Greece, and in Greece. “I know that sounds a little too convenient,” he said, “and I wouldn’t blame you if you thought I just made it up to—”

“Made it up?” she said, obviously emotional. “If you made that up, you’d burn in hell.”

“So, will you be the first to forgive me?”

“Of course. And I need to apologize too. I—”

“You’ve done nothing close to what I did,” Rayford said. “Forget it.”

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