Tyndale House - The Mark - The Beast Rules the World

"I've got to be that way with you too?"

"At least practice, Buck. You Americans, I swear. I had to shame your father-in-law into being the leader he was born to be. You're an international journalist and you can't playact to get things done?"

"I think I can."

"Well, show me. How did you get the big stories, get access to the best interview subjects?"

"I used the power of my position."

"Exactly."

"But I was working for Global Weekly."

"More than that. You were Buck Williams, the Buck Williams of Global Weekly. It may have been your talent and your writing that made you the Buck Williams, but once you were him, you walked with confidence, didn't you?"

"I guess."

"I guess," Albie mocked. "Come on, Buck! You strutted!"

"You want me to strut?"

"I want you to get us a vehicle to drive to the detention center where Pastor Demeter and Mrs. Miklos and several others from their church are incarcerated."

"But wouldn't it be easier for you?"

"Why?"

"You're the superior officer. You outrank everybody we'll run into."

"Then take advantage of that. I'll be the one everybody sees but no one mentions. They will only salute. You speak with my authority. And you're wearing that beautiful uniform, tailored at Chez Zeke."

"I'll try."

"You're hopeless."

"I can do this."

"You're not giving me confidence."

"Watch me."

"That's what I'm afraid of. I'll be watching you get found out. Prove me wrong, Buck."

"Outta my way, old man."

"That's the spirit."

"You going to have them refuel us while we're in Ptolemai's?"

"No, Buck, you are."

"C'mon. I don't know all that plane stuff."

"Just do it. From this point on, I am an angry, jet-lagged, ill-tempered deputy commander, and I don't want to speak."

"So it's all on me?"

"Don't ask me. I'm mute."

"Are you serious?"

But Albie wouldn't answer. The twinkle faded from his eyes and he set his jaw, scowling as they marched from the jet to the terminal, about twenty-five miles south of their destination. Buck accosted the first corporal he saw. "English?" he asked the young man.

"'Course. 'Sup?"

"I need you to hangar that aircraft and refuel it while my commanding officer and I are on assignment up the road."

"Yeah? Well, I want you to shine my boots while I'm sleeping."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that, son."

"Yeah, good. Me too."

He started to leave and Buck swung him around with a grab of his shoulder. "Do it."

"You think I know how to jockey a plane? I'm ground forces, pal. Get some other lackey to do it."

"I'm telling you. Find someone who knows how to do it and have it done by the time we get back, or suffer the consequences."

"You gotta be kiddin' me!"

Albie had kept his back to the conversation, and Buck was convinced he was trying not to laugh aloud.

"You got that, son?" Buck said.

"I'm outta here. I'll take my chances. You don't even know my name."

"Well, I do," Albie said, spinning to face the boy, suddenly ashen. "And you'll do what you're told or you'll be walking back to your hometown in civilian clothes."

"Yes, sir," the boy said, saluting. "Right away, sir."

"Don't let me down, boy," Albie called after him.

Buck gave Albie a look. "Thought you were mute."

"Somebody had to bail you out."

"He was my own rank!"

"That's why you refer to me! I've got the clout, but you've got to use it. Try again."

"What now?"

"I told you. We need a vehicle."

"Ach!"

Buck strode into the terminal, which was crawling with GC. With the crackdown on the underground churches, it would be a noisy area for a while. "Give me your papers," he told Albie.

"What for?"

"Just do it! Hand 'em over!"

"Now you're talking."

Buck stepped to the front of a line of GC Peacekeepers. "Hey!" the first in line shouted.

"Hey yourself," Buck said. "You a deputy commander or are you escorting one? Because if you're not, I'd appreciate your standing down."

"Yes, sir."

Buck raised an eyebrow at Albie, then spoke to the GC officer at a desk behind a window. "Corporal Jack Jensen on behalf of Deputy Commander Marcus Elbaz, here on assignment from the USNA. Need a vehicle for transport to Ptolemais."

"Yeah, you and a thousand other guys," the officer said, lazily looking over their IDs. "Seriously, you're about two hundredth in line."

"Seems to me we're near the top, sir, begging your pardon."

"How come your superior officer is USNA? He looks Middle Eastern."

"I don't do the assigning, pal. And I wouldn't recommend getting into it with him. No, better yet, it would be fun. Tell him he looks Middle Eastern and that you're questioning his base of operations. Go ahead. Really."

The officer pursed his lips and slid the IDs back under the window. "Something basic do ya?"

"Anything. I could push for something fancy, but we just want to get in and get out. Anyway, tell you the truth, Elbaz has been so touchy today, I don't think he deserves a nicer ride. We'll take whatever you've got."

The officer slid Buck a set of keys attached to a manila ticket. "Show this at the temporary motor pool behind the exit gate."

As they headed that way, Albie mimicked Buck. "He's been so touchy today, I don't think he deserves a nicer ride. I oughta bust you down to Boy Scout."

"You do and you'll be walking home in civilian clothes."

"Carpathia's up to something," Mac said, sitting next to Abdullah in David's office.

"I am going to be so glad to say good-bye to this place," Abdullah said.

David shifted in his chair. "Tell me about it." "Well, don't you want to get out of here too?" "I'm sorry, Smitty," David said. "I was talking to Mac."

"Oh! A thousand pardons."

"Watch him now," Mac said. "He'll be pout in a New Babylon second."

"I am not pout! Now stop teasing!"

Mac smacked Abdullah on the shoulder and the Jordanian smiled. "Anyway," Mac said, turning back to David, "Carpathia calls me a little while ago and asks me do I know where his weapons are. 'Course, I don't, but I'd sure like to. Tell you somethin', guys, people can talk all they want about the miraculous rebuilding Carpathia did all over the world. But nothin', and I mean nothin', compares to him getting all those countries to destroy 90 percent of their weapons and give him the other 10, and then him storin' 'em somewhere that nobody ever talks about."

"Loose lips sink ships," David repeated.

"You think people know but won't say?"

"Obviously."

"How does he keep a secret that big among so many people?"

"I think I just heard how," David said, and he briefed Mac and Abdullah on it.

Abdullah sat shaking his head. "Nicolae Carpathia is a bad man."

Mac looked at Abdullah and then at David. "Well, yeah! I mean, come on, Smitty. You just come to that conclusion, or have you known all along and just been keeping it from us?"

"I know you are teasing me," Abdullah said. "Just wait until I know your language good." "You'll be dangerous; that's a fact."

David's cell phone rang. He flipped it open and held up an apologetic finger. "It's Ming," he said.

"Should we go?" Mac said.

David shook his head.

"They were fighting over what you assumed they were fighting over," she said. "My father wants Chang to take a job right away with the GC and be among the first to take the mark. Chang swears he will never take the mark."

"Did he tell your father why?"

"No, and I am coming to see that he never can unless my father himself somehow becomes a believer. I have not lost faith and I keep praying, but until that happens, Chang cannot tell him. He would expose us."

"Does your mother know?"

"No! She would eventually tell him. I'm afraid she is so intimidated that she would not be able to stand up to him in the end. David, you cannot let Chang get a job there, especially if new employees are the first to get the mark."