do?” Albie said innocently. He swiped at his forehead with his palm.
“There, that’s better,” Stephens said. Albie slowly moved his hand until it rested on his side arm. If only Rayford had one.
“Gentlemen,” Stephens enunciated carefully past his awful sound, “if you’ll do me the kindness of following me, I’d like us to start over in a new room. This time we’ll begin with the proper protocol-what do you say?”
He rolled past Rayford and Albie, reached for the door, swung it open, and sped through before it slammed on him. Albie rose and grabbed it, and Rayford followed him down the hall. Albie unsnapped the strap that held the 9 mm in its holster. Rayford wondered if he had time to peel off and get out the front door to the van before Albie knew he was gone. He hesitated, hoping the whir of the chair would cover him if he made the decision.
But Albie turned and motioned Rayford to walk in front of him, behind the fast-moving chair. Even if he could escape, Hattie was history. He had no choice but to stay and play it out.
FIVE
Buck settled on the white Hummer, confirmed it had a full tank, checked the tires, found the keys, checked the engine, and fired it up.
“What shall we name her?” Chloe said.
“This is a big, ol’ muscle car,” he said. “It’s got Chloe written all over it.”
It would be hours before dark, and they would be in touch with Zeke frequently to discover what he knew about the positioning of the GC stakeout. They were looking for rebels who gassed up at his dad’s station, not expecting Zeke Jr. to even be there. But could Buck get him out of there without their seeing?
Kenny was down for a nap, and Leah was reading when they returned. “Tsion said you could join him and Chaim,” she said. “And Chloe was going to involve me in the co-op stuff.”
“I’ve got to start communicating with everyone,” Chloe said, setting up her computer as Leah pulled up a chair. Buck moved up one floor to Tsion’s hideaway.
What a spot he had set up for himself. In a room just big enough for a U-shaped desk, Tsion had what amounted to a cockpit, where he was within arm’s length of whatever he needed. With his computer before him and his commentaries and Bible on a ledge above, he was ready. Buck was struck by how few books he had brought with him, but Dr. Ben-Judah explained that most of what he needed had been scanned onto his massive hard drive.
Chaim sat in a comfortable chair looking less than comfortable. He had been hurt worse than Buck in the plane crash, yet he sat weeping tears of apparent joy, as Tsion rushed to teach him.
“Much of this you have heard from your youth, Chaim,” the rabbi said, “but now that God has opened your eyes and you know Jesus is the Messiah, you will be amazed at how it all comes together for you and makes sense.”
Chaim rocked and wept and nodded. “I see,” he said over and over. “I see.”
Buck sat transfixed, hearing in a gush much of what he had learned over the past three-plus years from Tsion’s daily cybermessages. At times the rabbi himself would be overcome and have to stop and exult, “Chaim, you don’t know how we prayed for you, again and again, that God would open your eyes. Do you need a break, my brother?” s
Chaim shook his head but held up a hand, trying to make himself understood despite the wired-shut jaw. “God is opening my eyes to so many things,” he managed. “Cameron, come close. I must ask you something.”
Buck looked at Tsion, who nodded, and he pulled his chair closer to Chaim’s. “I always wondered why you had not come to Nicolae’s first meeting with his new leadership team at the United Nations. Remember?”
“Of course.”
“Forgive me for spitting on you, Cameron, but I can-
not speak another way just now.”
“Don’t give it a second thought.”
“I could not fathom it! The privilege of a lifetime, the opportunity no self-respecting journalist could miss. You were invited.
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