Left Behind Page 34

  Stonagal stood, wary and rigid.

  “And now I am going to ask that we switch places.”

  Stonagal swore. “What is this?” he demanded.

  “It will become clear quickly, and I will not need your help anymore.”

  To the others, Buck knew, it sounded as if Carpathia meant he would no longer need Stonagal’s help for whatever this demonstration was. Just as he had sent the guard back to the corner unarmed, they had to assume he would thank Stonagal and let him return to his seat.

  Stonagal, with a disgusted frown, stepped out and traded places with Carpathia. That put Carpathia to Stonagal’s right. On Stonagal’s left sat Hattie, and beyond her, Mr. Todd-Cothran.

  “And now I am going to ask you to kneel, Jonathan,” Carpathia said, his smile and his light tone having disappeared. To Buck it seemed as if everyone in the room sucked in a breath and held it.

  “That I will not do,” Stonagal said.

  “Yes, you will,” Carpathia said quietly. “Do it now.”

  “No, sir, I will not,” Stonagal said. “Have you lost your mind? I will not be humiliated. If you think you have risen to a position over me, you are mistaken.”

  Carpathia raised the .38, cocked it, and stuck the barrel into Stonagal’s right ear. The older man at first jerked away, but Carpathia said, “Move again and you are dead.”

  Several others stood, including Rosenzweig, who cried plaintively, “Nicolae!”

  “Everyone be seated, please,” Carpathia said, calm again. “Jonathan, on your knees.”

  Painfully, the old man crouched, using Hattie’s chair for support. He did not face Carpathia or look at him. The gun was still in his ear. Hattie sat pale and frozen.

  “My dear,” Carpathia said, leaning toward her over Stonagal’s head, “you will want to slide your chair back about three feet so as not to soil your outfit.”

  She did not move.

  Stonagal began to whimper. “Nicolae, why are you doing this? I am your friend! I am no threat!”

  “Begging does not become you, Jonathan. Please be quiet. Hattie,” he continued, looking directly into her eyes now, “stand and move your chair back and be seated. Hair, skin, skull tissue, and brain matter will mostly be absorbed by Mr. Todd-Cothran and the others next to him. I do not want anything to get on you.”

  Hattie moved her chair back, her fingers trembling.

  Stonagal whined, “No, Nicolae, no!”

  Carpathia was in no hurry. “I am going to kill Mr. Stonagal with a painless hollow-point round to the brain which he will neither hear nor feel. The rest of us will experience some ringing in our ears. This will be instructive for you all. You will understand cognitively that I am in charge, that I fear no man, and that no one can oppose me.”

  Mr. Otterness reached for his forehead, as if dizzy, and slumped to one knee. Buck considered a suicidal dive across the table for the gun, but he knew that others might die for his effort. He looked to Steve, who sat motionless as the others. Mr. Todd-Cothran shut his eyes and grimaced, as if expecting the report any second.

  “When Mr. Stonagal is dead, I will tell you what you will remember. And lest anyone feel I have not been fair, let me not neglect to add that more than gore will wind up on Mr. Todd-Cothran’s suit. A high-velocity bullet at this range will also kill him, which, as you know, Mr. Williams, is something I promised you I would deal with in due time.”

  Todd-Cothran opened his eyes at that news, and Buck heard himself shouting, “No!” as Carpathia pulled the trigger. The blast rattled the windows and even the door. Stonagal’s head crashed into the toppling Todd-Cothran, and both were plainly dead before their entwined bodies reached the floor.

  Several chairs rolled back from the table as their occupants covered their heads in fear. Buck stared, mouth open, as Carpathia calmly placed the gun in Stonagal’s limp right hand and twisted his finger around the trigger.

  Hattie shivered in her seat and appeared to try to emit a scream that would not come. Carpathia took the floor again.

  “What we have just witnessed here,” he said kindly, as if speaking to children, “was a horrible, tragic end to two otherwise extravagantly productive lives. These men were two I respected and admired more than any others in the world. What compelled Mr. Stonagal to rush the guard, disarm him, take his own life and that of his British colleague, I do not know and may never fully understand.”

  Buck fought within himself to keep his sanity, to maintain a clear mind, to—as his boss had told him on the way in—“remember everything.”

  Carpathia continued, his eyes moist. “All I can tell you is that Jonathan Stonagal told me as recently as at breakfast this morning that he felt personally responsible for two recent violent deaths in England and that he could no longer live with the guilt. Honestly, I thought he was going to turn himself in to international authorities later today. And if he had not, I would have had to. How he conspired with Mr. Todd-Cothran, which led to the deaths in England, I do not know. But if he was responsible, then in a sad way, perhaps justice was meted out here today.

  “We are all horrified and traumatized by having witnessed this. Who would not be? My first act as secretary-general will be to close the U.N. for the remainder of the day and to pronounce my regrettable benedictory obituary on the lives of two old friends. I trust you will all be able to deal with this unfortunate occurrence and that it will not forever hamper your ability to serve in your strategic roles.

  “Thank you, gentlemen. While Ms. Durham phones security, I will be polling you for your version of what happened here.”

  Hattie ran to the phone and could barely make herself understood in her hysteria. “Come quick! There’s been a suicide and two men are dead! It was awful! Hurry!”

  “Mr. Plank?” Carpathia said.

  “That was unbelievable,” Steve said, and Buck knew he was dead serious. “When Mr. Stonagal grabbed the gun, I thought he was going to kill us all!”

  Carpathia called on the United States ambassador.

  “Why, I’ve known Jonathan for years,” he said. “Who would have thought he could do something like this?”

  “I’m just glad you’re all right, Mr. Secretary-General,” Chaim Rosenzweig said.

  “Well, I am not all right,” Carpathia said. “And I will not be all right for a long time. These were my friends.”

  And that’s how it went, all around the room. Buck’s body felt like lead, knowing Carpathia would eventually get to him and that he was the only one in the room not under Nicolae’s hypnotic power. But what if Buck said so? Would he be killed next? Of course he would! He had to be. Could he lie? Should he?

  He prayed desperately as Carpathia moved from man to man, making certain they had all seen what he wanted them to see and that they were sincerely convinced of it.

  Silence, God seemed to impress upon Buck’s heart. Not a word!

  Buck was so grateful to feel the presence of God in the midst of this evil and mayhem that he was moved to tears. When Carpathia got to him Buck’s cheeks were wet and he could not speak. He shook his head and held up a hand. “Awful, was it not, Cameron? The suicide that took Mr. Todd-Cothran with it?”

  Buck could not speak and wouldn’t have if he could. “You cared for and respected them both, Cameron, because you were unaware that they tried to have you killed in London.” And Carpathia moved on to the guard.

  “Why could you not keep him from taking your gun, Scott?”

  The old man had risen. “It happened so fast! I knew who he was, an important rich man, and when he hurried over to me I didn’t know what he wanted. He ripped that gun right out of my holster, and before I could react he had shot himself.”

  “Yes, yes,” Carpathia said as security rushed into the room. Everyone talked at once as Carpathia retreated to a corner, sobbing over the loss of his friends.

  A plainclothesman asked questions. Buck headed him off. “You have enough eyewitnesses here. Let me leave you my card and you can call if you
need me, hmm?” The cop traded cards with him and Buck was permitted to leave.

  Buck grabbed his bag and sprinted for a cab, rushing back to the office. He shut and locked his office door and began furiously banging out every detail of the story. He had produced several pages when he received a call from Stanton Bailey. The old man could hardly catch his breath between his demanding questions, not allowing Buck to answer.

  “Where have you been? Why weren’t you at the press conference? Were you in there when Stonagal offed himself and took the Brit with him? You should have been here. There’s prestige for us having you in there. How are you going to convince anybody you were in there when you didn’t show up for the press conference? Cameron, what’s the deal?”

  “I hurried back here to get the story into the system.”

  “Don’t you have an exclusive with Carpathia now?”

  Buck had forgotten that, and Plank hadn’t reconfirmed it. What was he supposed to do about that? He prayed but sensed no leading. How he needed to talk to Bruce or Chloe or even Captain Steele! “I’ll call Steve and see,” he said.

  Buck knew he couldn’t wait long to make the call, but he was desperate to know what to do. Should he allow himself to be in a room alone with Carpathia? And if he did, should he pretend to be under his mind control as everyone else seemed to be? If he hadn’t seen this for himself, he wouldn’t have believed it. Would he always be able to resist the influence with God’s help? He didn’t know.

  He dialed Steve’s cell and the call was returned a couple of minutes later. “Really busy here, Buck. What’s up?”

  “I was wondering if I’ve still got that exclusive with Carpathia.”

  “You’re kidding, right? You heard what happened here and you want an exclusive?”

  “Heard? I was there, Steve.”

  “Well, if you were here, then you probably know what happened before the press conference.”

  “Steve! I saw it with my own eyes.”

  “You’re not following me, Buck. I’m saying if you were here for the press conference, you heard about the Stonagal suicide in the preliminary meeting, the one you were supposed to come to.”

  Buck didn’t know what to say. “You saw me there, Steve.”

  “I didn’t even see you at the press conference.”

  “I wasn’t at the press conference, Steve, but I was in the room when Stonagal and Todd-Cothran died.”

  “I don’t have time for this, Buck. It’s not funny. You were supposed to be there, you weren’t there. I resent it, Carpathia is offended, and no, no exclusive.”

  “I have credentials! I got them downstairs!”

  “Then why didn’t you use them?”

  “I did!”

  Steve hung up on him. Marge buzzed and said the boss was on the line again. “What’s the deal with you not even going to that meeting?” Bailey said.

  “I was there! You saw me go in!”

  “Yeah, I saw you. You were that close. What did you do, find something more important to do? You got some fast talking to do, Cameron!”

  “I’m telling you I was there! I’ll show you my credentials.”

  “I just checked the credential list, and you’re not on it.”

  “Of course I’m on it. I’ll show ’em to you.”

  “Your name’s there, I’m saying, but it’s not checked off.”

  “Mr. Bailey, I’m looking at my credentials right now. They’re in my hand.”

  “Your credentials don’t mean dirt if you didn’t use ’em, Cameron. Now where were you?”

  “Read my story,” Buck said. “You’ll know exactly where I was.”

  “I just talked to three, four people who were there, including a U.N. guard and Carpathia’s personal assistant, not to mention Plank. None of them saw you; you weren’t there.”

  “A cop saw me! We traded cards!”

  “I’m coming back to the office, Williams. If you’re not there when I get there, you’re fired.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  Buck dug out the cop’s card and called the number. “Precinct station,” a voice said.

  Buck read off the card, “Detective Sergeant Billy Cenni, please.”

  “What’s the name again?”

  “Cenni, or maybe it’s a hard C? Kenny?”

  “Don’t recognize it. You got the right precinct?”

  Buck repeated the number from the card.

  “That’s our number, but that ain’t our guy.”

  “How would I locate him?”

  “I’m busy here, pal. Call midtown.”

  “It’s important. Do you have a department directory?”

  “Listen, we got thousands of cops.”

  “Just look up C-E-N-N-I for me, will ya?”

  “Just a minute.” Soon he was back on. “Nothing, OK?”

  “Could he be new?”

  “He could be your sister for all I know.”

  “Where do I call?”

  He gave Buck the number for police headquarters. Buck ran through the whole conversation again, but this time he had reached a pleasant young woman. “Let me check one more thing for you,” she said. “I’ll get personnel on the line because they won’t tell you anything unless you’re a uniformed officer anyway.”

  He listened as she spelled the name for personnel. “Uh-huh, uh-huh,” she said. “Thank you. I’ll tell him.” And she came back to Buck. “Sir? Personnel says there is nobody in the New York Police Department named Cenni, and there never has been. If somebody’s got a phony police business card dolled up, they’d like to see it.”

  All Buck could do now was try to convince Stanton Bailey.

  Rayford Steele, Chloe, and Bruce Barnes watched the U.N. press conference, straining to see Buck. “Where is he?” Chloe said. “He has to be there somewhere. Everybody else from that meeting is there. Who’s the girl?”

  Rayford stood when he saw her and silently pointed at the screen. “Dad!” Chloe said. “You’re not thinking what I’m thinking?”

  “It sure looks like her,” Rayford said.

  “Shh,” Bruce said, “he’s introducing everybody.”

  “And my new personal assistant, having given up a career in the aviation industry . . .”

  Rayford flopped into a chair. “I hope Buck wasn’t behind that.”

  “Me, too,” Bruce said. “That would mean he could have been sucked in, too.”

  The news of the Stonagal suicide and Todd-Cothran’s accidental death stunned them. “Maybe Buck took my advice and didn’t go,” Bruce said. “I sure hope so.”

  “That doesn’t sound like him,” Chloe said.

  “No, it doesn’t,” Rayford said.

  “I know,” Bruce said. “But I can hope. I don’t want to find out that he’s met with foul play. Who knows what happened in there, and him going in with only our prayers?”

  “I’d like to think that would be enough,” Chloe said.

  “No,” Bruce said. “He needed the covering of God himself.”

  By the time Stanton Bailey stormed into Buck’s office an hour later, Buck realized he was up against a force with which he could not compete. The record of his having been at that meeting had been erased, including from the minds of everyone in the room. He knew Steve wasn’t faking it. He honestly believed Buck had not been there. The power Carpathia held over those people knew no limits. If Buck had needed any proof that his own faith was real and that God was now in his life, he had it. Had he not received Christ before entering that room, he was convinced he would be just another of Carpathia’s puppets.

  Bailey was not in a discussing mood, so Buck let the old man talk, not trying to defend himself. “I don’t want any more of this nonsense about your having been there. I know you were in the building and I see your credentials, but you know and I know and everybody who was in there knows that you weren’t. I don’t know what you thought was more important, but you were wrong. This is unacceptable and unforgivable, Cameron. I can’t have you as
my executive editor.”

  “I’ll gladly go back to senior writer,” Buck said.

  “Can’t go along with that either, pal. I want you out of New York. I’m going to put you in the Chicago bureau.”

  “I’ll be happy to run that for you.”

  Bailey shook his head. “You don’t get it, do you, Cameron? I don’t trust you. I should fire you. But I know you’d just wind up with somebody else.”

  “I don’t want to be with anybody else.”

  “Good, because if you tried to jump to the competition, I’d have to tell them about this stunt. You’re going to be a staff writer out of Chicago, working for the woman who was Lucinda’s assistant there. I’m calling her today to give her the news. It’ll mean a whopping cut in pay, especially considering what you would’ve gotten with the promotion. You take a few days off, get your things in order here, get that apartment sublet, and find yourself a place in Chicago. Someday I want you to come clean with me, son. That was the sorriest excuse for news gathering I’ve ever seen, and by one of the best in the business.”

  Mr. Bailey slammed the door.

  Buck couldn’t wait to talk to his friends in Illinois, but he didn’t want to call from his office or his apartment, and he didn’t know for sure whether his cell phone was safe. He packed his stuff and took a cab to the airport, asking the cabbie to stop at a pay phone a mile outside the terminal.

  Steele, Buck Williams, and Bruce Barnes faced the gravest dangers anyone could face, and they knew their mission.

  The task of the Tribulation Force was clear and their goal nothing less than to stand and fight the enemies of God during the seven most chaotic years the planet would ever see.

  EPILOGUE

  “For as in the days before the flood, they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day that Noah entered the ark, and did not know until the flood came and took them all away, so also will the coming of the Son of Man be.

  “Then two men will be in the field: one will be taken and the other left. Two women will be grinding at the mill: one will be taken and the other left.

  “Watch therefore, for you do not know what hour your Lord is coming.”