The Left Behind Collection: All 12 Books (328 page)

Mac jumped out to help George. “Yank the radios in their cars,” he said. “I’ll get the ones on their uniforms.”

By now the officers were delirious, glassy-eyed, and wailing. “Ladies,” George radioed, “come help us with these cars.”

Mac disarmed the officers and tossed their weapons into the bed of the truck. He took their radios and put them in the front seat. “Once you’ve got those car radios disconnected,” he told George, “pop the trunks.”

Chloe and Hannah came running. “Chloe,” Mac said, “you two are going to give us an escort. Once I get this guy in the trunk of his car, I’ll pull the truck in behind you. Hannah, you fall in behind once we get the other guy in his trunk.”

The GC were whimpering. “You boys hush now,” Mac said. “You’re gonna hurt awhile, but you’re not gonna die unless you make us shoot you. We’re just going for a little ride.”

With the GC ensconced in their respective trunks, Mac carefully turned the truck around and told George to give the women extra ammo from the bag they had gotten at the Co-op. With the truck and the two GC squad cars pointed west, one of the GC radios crackled. “North roadblock, acknowledge, please.”

“North roadblock,” Mac said, while only half mashing the transmit button.

“Repeat?”

“North roadblock here,” he said, careful to make sure he was heard, but not perfectly.

“Status?”

“Busy.”

“Carry on.”

George hopped back into the truck, and as Chloe pulled away and Mac followed, George said, “Looky here. I knew there was something about that old gal I really liked.” In amongst the ammunition, Mrs. P. had had Co-op people pack bread, cheese, and fruit. “Chloe and Hannah took most of it,” George said. “And I’m gonna take most of what’s left unless you grab now.”

Mac grabbed. And the unlikely convoy rolled west into the night toward their ride home. How long the ruse would hold was the mystery. For now, Mac enjoyed the food and the hope that they had beaten the odds.

The report from Mac allowed Chang to breathe easier for the first time in hours. He checked back in to Carpathia’s office, where Akbar was debriefing the big boss.

“We’ve had a setback, but there’s no way this bunch can—”

“A setback?”

“Without going into all the details, sir, the hostage killed one of our people—a woman—and has escaped. We assume he’s on the run with the three who—”

“He killed one of his captors?”

“Yes, Highness. We assume—”

“My kind of a man. Why cannot he be on our side?”

“We assume, sir, that he is reconnecting with the three who came for him, and we’re hoping they will be foolish enough to try to get back to the airport. We have that sealed tight.”

“Yes, well . . .” Carpathia sounded distracted, as if the rest of the story was not as interesting. “Suhail, how was damage control today?”

“Too early to tell, sir.”

“Come, come, I count on you as one who does not try to simply appease me. They heard the pilot’s report, and my telling them he was mistaken, that the bombs had missed their targets. Well, what are people saying?”

“I honestly don’t know, Excellency. I have spent my entire day between your office and my own, trying to ride herd on this Greece thing.”

“Let me tell you this, Suhail: The disc from the plane clearly shows direct hits and those traitors burning! Whatever is the magic that allows those people to survive simply cannot extend outside that area.”

“Begging your pardon, but not that long ago we lost ground troops outside—”

“I know that, Suhail! Do you think I do not know that?”

“Apologies, Potentate.”

“I want us to find the safe place surrounding that area, where we have not seen our weapons of war swallowed up by the earth, and from which we can stop all traffic in and out. They will need supplies, and we must see that they do not get them.”

“Our armed forces have been so decimated, sir—”

“Are you telling me we have no pilots or planes that can cut off supplies to Petra?”

“No, sir. I’m sure we can do that. Ah, on another matter, sir, our ancient-text experts say that the next curse could be that the lakes and rivers of the world fall into the same predicament as the seas.”

“
Freshwater
sources all turn to blood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Impossible!
Everyone
would die! Even our enemies.”

“There are those who believe the Judah-ites will be protected, as they have been against our forces recently.”

“Where will they get their water?”

“The same place they got their protection. Perhaps there is wisdom in negotiating with their leader to have the curses lifted.”

“Never!”

“Not to be contrary, sir, but we cannot survive long with this devastation. And if the rivers and lakes do also turn—”

“You are not aware of everything, Suhail. I too have supernatural power.”

“I have seen it, sir.”

“You will see more. Reverend Fortunato is prepared to match the wizardry of the Judah-ites blow for blow, and he has designates who can do this around the world.”

“Well, that—”

“Now show me what I want to see, Suhail.”

“North roadblock, this is Central.”

“Roadblock,” Mac said. “Go ahead, Central.”

“Disposition of suspicious truck?”

“Repeat?”

“One of our squads reported that your first stop after they passed was a truck.”

“Affirmative. Clean.”

“Traveling west to east?”

“Affirmative.”

“We traced a cell phone to the west side of the city and then east before losing it.”

Mac looked at George. “What do they want to hear?”

“You know nothing about that.”

Mac transmitted. “Can’t help you there.”

“Truck proceeded east?”

“Roger that.”

“You reported lots of traffic.”

“Ten-four.”

“Busy?”

“Affirmative.”

“Squads said they saw nothing but the truck when they passed.”

“Busy now.”

“What’s your ten-twenty, roadblock?”

Mac looked at George again. “They’re onto us.”

George pulled the weapons from beneath the seat and Rayford’s walkie-talkie from his pocket. “Jinnah, Irene, be advised. We’ll soon have company.”

Mac clicked the GC radio button a few times. “Repeat,” he said.

“Your ten-twenty, roadblock. What’s your location?”

Chang froze. He had been nearly dozing, listening to Carpathia and Akbar’s sparring while they watched reports from the United North American States and the United South American States. He had not kept up with the Ptolemaïs project.

The local GC had traced Elena’s cell phone to the west side of the city, and it had remained in one location for more than an hour. Commander Nelson Stefanich and the survivors of the philosopher team were personally leading the raid on a pub in that area.

He phoned Mac.

“Talk fast, Chang. We may be in deep weeds here.”

“How far west of the city are you?”

“Not sure. I’ve had this thing floored, but I don’t think it goes faster’n fifty. They chasin’ us?”

“Are you too far from the Co-op to help them?”

“Depends. What’s up?”

“GC’s raiding the pub right now. You know the next thing to go will be the Co-op.”

“Any chance they got out?”

“Can’t imagine. I couldn’t warn them.”

“I’m guessing we’re less than thirty minutes from our plane. We’ll go back if you think we can help.”

“Hang on, a report’s coming through. Judah-ite underground discovered beneath pub. Firefight. Sixteen GC dead, and another dozen injured. Building grenaded and torched. Several adjacent buildings destroyed. No enemy survivors.”

While Mac filled in George, the GC continued to try to reach Mac on the radio, asking for some kind of a code. “We’ve blocked off both ends of the north road due to the raid, so wrap it up,” they said. “Still need your all-clear code.”

George looked devastated and tried to grab the GC radio from Mac. “I’ll give ’em an all-clear code.”

“Take it easy, friend.”

“This was
my
fault, Mac! What was I thinking, hanging on to that phone?”

“I wish we could have gone back,” Mac said. “I’d like to have taken out a few of them myself. But our brothers and sisters are in heaven, and it sounds like they put up some kind of a fight.”

“That’s it?” George said. “We’re supposed to feel good because I got a bunch of people killed and now they’re in heaven?”

“Need the all-clear code now,” the radio said.

“I ought to tell them it’s Psalm 94:1,” Mac said.

“I know what I’d like to tell ’em. Have the women stop and we’ll get those GC to tell us the code.”

“They’d probably give away where we are.”

“Not with the DEW starin’ ’em in the face. Let me get it out of ’em, Mac. Please. I’ve got to do this.”

“Chloe, pull it over,” Mac said.

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

“We okay?”

“Temporarily.”

Mac’s phone chirped. Chang. “Stefanich and Plato and a bunch of GC are looking for the truck and the two GC squads. They’re heading west.”

“Let’s make this quick,” Mac said, jumping out as Chloe emerged and Hannah pulled up behind.

“Pop that trunk, Chloe,” George said, “and Hannah, let me have the DEW.”

Chloe opened the trunk, and Mac shone a flashlight in on the nearly wasted Peacekeeper. George pulled him from the trunk with one hand, and he lay crying on the ground. “Blisters,” he sobbed. “Careful, please. Or kill me.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” George said, wielding the DEW. “See this?”

The man opened one eye and nodded miserably.

“This is what cooks your flesh, and there’s plenty more juice in it.”

“Please, no.”

George turned it on, and the thing whirred to life.

“Please!”

He aimed it at the man’s ankle, and the man stiffened, whining. “Give me your all-clear code.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Give me the all-clear or—”

“It’s in the glove box! In my book!”

Chloe went to check. She brought back a small, black leather ring binder. “It’s full of all kinds of notes,” she said.

George took it and dropped it onto the man.

“We’ve got to get rolling,” Mac said. “They’re never going to buy the all-clear from us now anyway. They’re on their way.”

“These guys are deadweight,” George said. “Maybe we can slow the others by leaving them here in the road.”

The man was ripping through the pages. He gingerly held the notebook up to the light from the truck’s headlamp. “It’s one-one-six-four-eight!” he said.

George dragged him onto the road while Mac brought the other from the other car. The men lay writhing. “Just kill us,” the second one pleaded.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” George said. “Bad as this is, trust me, you should prefer it.”

“Leave one of the cars here,” Mac said. “Block the road with it and the truck. It won’t take the GC long to get around them, but any slowdown has to help.”

Chloe maneuvered one car nose to nose with the truck across the highway; then they ripped out the distributor caps from both vehicles and took the keys.

“Last call for clear code,” the radio said.

Mac hollered it into the mike. Then, “Chloe, you drive. And keep it to the floor. I’ll ride shotgun. I don’t expect them to catch us now, but everybody stay armed and ready.”

George put the DEW in the trunk and climbed in the back with Hannah. The economy car was too small for the four of them and seemed to groan with the weight, but Chloe soon had the thing chugging along at over seventy miles an hour.

George said, “So, Mac, what’s Psalm 94:1?”

Mac turned as far as he could in the seat. “‘O God,’” he said, “‘to whom vengeance belongs, shine forth!’”

The GC radio came to life again. “We need an immediate ten-twenty. Personnel on the north road report zero traffic and no sign of you.”

“Give me that,” George said, pulling it from Mac’s hand. He mashed the button. “Yeah, you’ll find us at Psalm 94:1.”

Chang fixed himself some tea, adding a strange concoction that included instant coffee with the highest concentration of caffeine he could find. He would crash when this ordeal was over, but he couldn’t risk dozing now. It was clear the Greek GC had a bead on his people, and it wouldn’t be long before they figured out Mac must have a plane at the abandoned strip not twenty minutes more up the road. He certainly wasn’t going to escape into Albania. How long would it take Mac and his people to board, and how far could they get before needing to refuel?