The Left Behind Collection: All 12 Books (50 page)

“I’ve heard all this,” Earl said.

“I’m just saying I understand your position. I was almost estranged from my wife because I thought she had become a fanatic.”

“You told me.”

“But my point now is that she
had
become a fanatic. She was right! She was proven right!”

“Rayford, if you want to preach, why don’t you get out of aviation and into the ministry?”

“Are you firing me?”

“I hope I don’t have to.”

“Do you want me to apologize to Nicky, tell him I realized I pushed him too far but that my intentions were good?”

“I wish it was that easy.”

“Isn’t that what you offered the other day?”

“Yes! And I upheld my end of the bargain. I have not copied this file to Personnel or to my superiors, and I told Nicky I wouldn’t. I said I would keep it, that it would become a permanent part of my personal file on you as my subordinate—”

“Which means nothing.”

“Of course, you and I know that, and Nick is no dummy either. But it seemed to satisfy him. I assumed that your going to Dallas for recert was your way of telling me you heard what I was saying and that we were helping each other out.”

Rayford nodded. “I had planned to be more judicious and try to be sure I didn’t get you into trouble defending me for my actions.”

“I didn’t mind doing this, Ray. You’re worth it. But you turned around and pulled the same stunt this morning. What were you thinking?”

Rayford flinched and sat back. He set his hat on the desk and held out both hands, palms up. “This morning? What are you talking about? I thought it went well, perfect in fact. Didn’t I pass?”

Earl leaned across the desk and scowled. “You didn’t pull the same thing with your examiner this morning that you’ve pulled with me and Nick and every other first officer you’ve worked with for the past few weeks?”

“Talk to him about God, you mean?”

“Yes!”

“No! In fact, I felt a little guilty about it. I said hardly anything to him. He was pretty severe, giving me the usual prattle about what he was and wasn’t there for.”

“You didn’t preach at him?”

Rayford shook his head, trying to remember if he had done or said anything that could be misconstrued. “No. I didn’t hide my Bible. Usually it’s in my flight bag, but I had it out when I first met him, because I’d been reading it in the van. Hey, are you sure this complaint didn’t come from the van driver? He saw me reading and asked about it, and we discussed what had happened.”

“Your usual.”

Rayford nodded. “But I didn’t get any negative reaction from him.”

“Neither did I. This complaint comes from your examiner.”

“I don’t understand it,” Rayford said. “You believe me, don’t you, Earl?”

“I wish I did,” Earl said. “Now don’t give me that look. I know we’ve been friends a long time, and I never once thought you lied to me. Remember that time you voluntarily grounded yourself because you didn’t think your flight was going out and you’d had a few drinks?”

“I even offered to pay for another pilot.”

“I know. But what am I supposed to think now, Ray? You say you didn’t hassle this guy. I want to believe you. But you’ve done it to me and to Nick and to others. I gotta think you did it this morning, too.”

“Well, I’m going to have to talk with this guy,” Rayford said.

“No, you’re not.”

“What, I can’t confront my accuser? Earl, I didn’t say a word to the man about God. I wish I had, especially if I’m going to have to take grief for it. I want to know why he said that. It had to be a misunderstanding, some secondhand complaint from the van driver, but like I say, I didn’t sense any resistance from him. He must have said something to the examiner, though. Otherwise, where would the examiner even get the idea that I’ve done this before, unless the Bible just set him off?”

“I can’t imagine the van driver having any contact with the examiner. Why would he, Ray?”

“I’m at a loss, Earl. I’m not sure I would have apologized if I had legitimately been in trouble for this, so I sure can’t apologize for something I didn’t do.”

Buck recalled Rosenzweig telling him how the president had offered to come to New York to meet with Carpathia, but out of his vast humility, Nicolae had insisted on going to Washington. Now Carpathia casually has his personal assistant send word that he’ll be late? Had he planned this? Was he systematically letting everyone know where they stood with him?

A few minutes later Hattie knocked and entered.

“Mr. Secretary-General,” she said, “President Fitzhugh is sending
Air Force One
for you.”

“Oh, tell him that will not be necessary,” Carpathia said.

“Sir, he said it’s already in the air and that you should come at your leisure. The pilot will let the White House know when you’re on your way.”

“Thank you Ms. Durham,” Carpathia said. And to Buck, “What a nice man! You have met him?”

Buck nodded. “My first Newsmaker of the Year subject.”

“His first or second time winning?”

“His second.” Buck marveled anew at the encyclopedic memory of the man. Was there any doubt who the subject of this year’s Newsmaker would be? It was an assignment Buck did not relish.

Earl shifted nervously. “Well, let me tell you, this comes at the worst possible time. The new
Air Force One
, which is scheduled to go into service next week, is a seven-seven-seven.”

Rayford was nonplussed. The note from Hattie Durham, saying the same thing, was still in his pocket.

Rayford shifted in his chair and watched his chief pilot’s face. “I had heard that, yes,” he hedged. “Is there anyone in America who hasn’t heard about the new plane? I wouldn’t mind seeing it, with everything they say is in it.”

“It’s top of the line, for sure,” Earl said. “Absolute latest in technology, communications, security, and accommodations.”

“You’re the second person who’s reminded me about that plane today. What’s the point?”

“The point is, the White House has contacted our brass. Seems they think it’s time their current pilot be put out to pasture. They want us to recommend a new guy. The people in Dallas narrowed a list to a half dozen senior pilots, and it came to me because your name is on it.”

“Not interested.”

“Not so fast! How can you say that? Who wouldn’t want to fly one of the most advanced planes in the world, one outfitted like that, for the most powerful man on earth? Or I guess I should say the
second
most powerful, now that we’ve got this Carpathia guy at the U.N.”

“Simple. I’d have to move to Washington.”

“What’s keeping you here? Is Chloe going back to school?”

“No.”

“Then she’s mobile too. Or does she have a job?”

“She’s looking for one.”

“Then let her find one in Washington. The job pays twice what you’re making now, and you’re already in the top 5 percent at Pan-Con.”

“Money doesn’t mean that much to me,” Rayford said.

“Get off it!” Earl snapped. “Who calls me first when new numbers are in the air?”

“It’s just not true of me anymore, Earl. And you know why.”

“Yeah, spare me the sermon. But, Ray, the financial freedom to get a bigger, nicer place, run in different circles—”

“It’s the circle I’m running in that’s keeping me in Chicago. My church.”

“Ray, the salary—”

“I don’t care about the money. It’s just Chloe and me now, remember?”

“Sorry.”

“If anything, we ought to be downsizing. We’ve got more house than we need, and I’ve certainly got more money than I can spend.”

“Then do it for the challenge! No regular route, a staff of first officers and navigators. You’ll fly all over the world, a different place every time. It’s an accomplishment, Ray.”

“You said there were five other names.”

“There are, and they’re all good men. But if I lobby for you, you’ve got it. The problem is, I can’t lobby for you with this Nick Edwards thing in the file.”

“You said it was only in your file.”

“It is, but with this morning’s snafu, I can’t risk hiding it. What if I get you the White House assignment and that examiner squawks? As soon as that gets out, Edwards sees it and corroborates the story. No assignment for you, and I look like an idiot for burying the complaint and championing you. End of story.”

“It’s the end of the story anyway,” Rayford said. “I can’t move.”

Earl stood. “Rayford,” he said slowly, “calm down and listen to me. Open your mind a little. Let me tell you what I’m hearing, and then just give me one chance to persuade you.”

Rayford started to protest, but Earl cut him off.

“Please! I can’t make your decision for you, and I won’t try. But you have to let me finish. Even though I don’t agree with your take on the disappearances, I’m happy for you that you’ve found some comfort in religion.”

“It’s not—”

“Ray, I know. I know. I’ve listened to you and I’ve heard you. To you it’s not religion, it’s Jesus Christ. Did I listen well, or what? I admire that you’ve given yourself to this. You’re devout. I don’t doubt you. But you don’t just thumb your nose at an assignment that a thousand pilots would die for. Frankly, I’m not entirely sure you’d have to relocate. How often do you see a president of the United States traveling on a Sunday? Surely not more than you fly Sundays now.”

“Because of seniority, I hardly ever fly Sundays.”

“You can assign someone else to fly Sundays for you. You’ll be the captain, the senior guy, in charge, the boss. You won’t have me to answer to anymore.”

“I’ll do it!” Rayford said, smiling. “I’m kidding.”

“Of course, it would make more sense for you to live in Washington, but I’ll bet if your only condition is living in Chicago, they’d do it.”

“No possible way.”

“Why?”

“Because my church is not just about Sundays. We meet frequently. I’m close to the pastor. We meet almost every day.”

“And you can’t see living without that.”

“I can’t.”

“Ray, what if this is a phase? What if you eventually lose your zeal? I’m not saying you’re a phony or that you’re going to turn your back on what you’ve found. I’m just saying the novelty might wear off, and you might be able to work somewhere else if you can get back to Chicago on the weekends.”

“Why is this so important to you, Earl?”

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t.”

“Because it’s something I’ve dreamed of all my life,” Earl said. “I kept up on all the latest certifications all my years in this position, and I’ve applied for the pilot’s job with every new president.”

“I never knew that.”

“Of course you didn’t. Who would admit that and let the world know he got his guts ripped out every four or eight years, seeing other guys get the job? Your getting it would be the next best thing. I could enjoy it vicariously.”

“For that reason alone I wish I was free to take it.”

Earl sat back down. “Well, thanks for that table scrap.”

“I didn’t mean it that way, Earl. I’m serious.”

“I know you are. Truth is, I know a couple of the other yokels on the list, and I wouldn’t let them drive my car.”

“I thought you said they were good men.”

“I’m just trying to tell you that if you don’t take this, someone else will.”

“Earl, I really don’t think—”

Earl held up a hand. “Ray, do me a favor, will you? Will you not decide right now? I mean, I know you’ve pretty much already decided, but would you hold off telling me officially until you’ve slept on it?”

“I’ll pray about it,” Rayford conceded.

“I thought you might.”

“Are you forbidding me from calling that examiner?”

“Absolutely. You want to file a grievance, do it on paper, through channels, the right way.”

“You sure you want to recommend a guy you don’t believe for a job like this?”

“If you tell me you didn’t pressure the guy, I have to believe you.”

“I didn’t even broach the subject, Earl.”

“This is crazy.” Earl shook his head.

“Who did the complaint go to?”

“My secretary.”

“From?”

“From his secretary, I guess.”

“Can I see it?”

“I shouldn’t.”

“Let me see it, Earl. What do you think, I’m going to turn you in?”

Earl buzzed his secretary. “Francine, bring me your notes on the complaint you got from Dallas this morning.” She brought him a single typed sheet. Earl read it and slid it across the desk to Rayford. It read:

Rayford held up the paper. “Earl, you’re a better detective than this.”

“What do you mean?”

“This smells.”

“You don’t think it’s legit?”

“First of all, my guy had a two-syllable last name on his ID badge. And when was the last time you remember an examiner having a secretary?”

Earl made a face. “Good call.”

“Speaking of calls,” Rayford said, “I’d like to know where that call came from. How hard would that be to determine?”

“Not hard. Francine! Call security for me, please.”

“Would you mind asking her to check something else for me?” Rayford said. “Ask her to call Personnel and see if we have a Jim Long or a Jean Garfield working for Pan-Con.”

“If you do not mind,” Carpathia said, “I would now like to ask your friends to join us.”

Now, already?
Buck wondered.
Just in time for the big news, whatever it is?

“This is your show,” Buck said, surprised at Carpathia’s pained expression. “Your meeting, I mean. Sure, invite them in.”

Buck didn’t know whether it was just his imagination, but it seemed both Steve Plank and Chaim Rosenzweig had bemused, knowing looks when they entered, trailed by Hattie. She set a chair from the conference table on the other side of Buck, and the men sat. Hattie left again. “Mr. Williams has a prerequisite,” Carpathia announced, to the low murmur from Plank and Rosenzweig. “He must be headquartered in Chicago.”

“That just helps narrow it down,” Dr. Rosenzweig said. “Does it not?”

“It does indeed,” Carpathia said. Buck glanced at Plank, who was nodding. The secretary-general turned toward Buck. “Here is my offer: You become president and publisher of the
Chicago Tribune
, which I shall acquire from the Wrigley family within the next two months. I will rename it
The Midwest Tribune
and publish it under the auspices of Global Community Enterprises. The headquarters will remain Tribune Tower in Chicago. Along with your job comes a limousine with driver, a personal valet, whatever staff you deem necessary, a home on the North Shore with domestic help, and a retreat home on Lake Geneva in southern Wisconsin. Beyond naming the publication and the publishing company, I will not intrude on your decision making. You will have complete freedom to run the paper any way you wish.” His voice took a tone of sarcasm. “With your twin towers of truth and justice undergirding every word.”

Buck wanted to laugh aloud. It didn’t surprise him that Carpathia could afford such a purchase, but there was no way a man so visible could hide behind a publishing company name and break every rule of journalistic ethics by owning a major media outlet while serving as secretary-general of the United Nations.

“You’ll never get away with it,” Buck said. He kept silent about the real issue: that Carpathia would never give anyone in his charge complete freedom unless he believed he had total control of their mind.

“That will be
my
problem,” Carpathia said.

“But with complete freedom,” Buck said, “I would be your problem too. I am devoted to the tenet that the public has a right to know. So the first investigative piece I assign, or write myself, would be about ownership of the publication.”

“I would welcome the publicity,” Carpathia said. “What would be wrong with the United Nations owning a paper dedicated to news of the global community?”

“You wouldn’t own it personally?”

“That is semantics. If it would be more appropriate for the U.N. to own it than for me, I would donate the money, or buy it and donate the company to the U.N.”

“But then the
Tribune
becomes a house organ, an in-house sheet promoting the interests of the U.N.”

“Which makes it legal.”

“But which also makes it impotent as an independent news voice.”

“That will be up to you.”

“Are you serious? You would allow your own publication to criticize you? To take issue with the United Nations?”

“I welcome the accountability. My motives are pure, my goals are peaceful, and my audience is global.”

Buck turned in frustration to Steve Plank, knowing full well that Steve was one who had already proven susceptible to Carpathia’s power. “Steve, you’re his media adviser! Tell him there’s no credibility in such a venture! It would not be taken seriously.”

“It wouldn’t be taken seriously at first by other news media, Buck,” Steve acknowledged. “But it won’t be long before Global Community Publishing owns those media services too.”

“So by monopolizing the publishing industry, you eliminate the competition and the public doesn’t know the difference?”

Carpathia nodded. “That is one way to phrase it. And if my motives were anything but ideal, I would have a problem with it too. But what is wrong with controlling global news when we are headed toward peace and harmony and unity?”

“Where is the power to think for oneself?” Buck asked. “Where is the forum for diverse ideas? What happens to the court of public opinion?”

“The court of public opinion,” Steve said, “is calling for more of what the secretary-general has to offer.”

Buck was defeated, and he knew it. He couldn’t expect Chaim Rosenzweig to understand the ethics of journalism, but when a veteran like Steve Plank could support a puff sheet for a benevolent dictator, what hope was there?

“I can’t imagine being involved in such a venture,” Buck said.

“I love this man!” Carpathia exulted, and Plank and Rosenzweig smiled and nodded. “Think about it. Mull it over. Somehow I will make it legal enough to be acceptable even to you, and then I will not take no for an answer. I want the paper, and I am going to get it. I want you to run it, and I am going to get you. Freedom, Buck Williams. Total freedom. The day you believe I am intruding, you may quit with full pay.”