The Mark: The Beast Rules The World (25 page)

Read The Mark: The Beast Rules The World Online

Authors: Tim Lahaye,Jerry B. Jenkins

Tags: #Adventure, #Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Adult, #Thriller, #Contemporary, #Spiritual, #Religion

BOOK: The Mark: The Beast Rules The World
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“That’s what I said!” Abdullah said. “Isn’t that what I said, Mac? I said that.”

“That’s what he said. Good point. OK, if we’re going to do this sooner than the actual deadline, we have lots of options. Peacekeeping just started shipping its first loads of-what are they calling those contraptions now? Loyalty somethin’s or other.”

“Call ‘em what they are,” David said. ;

“OK, they shipped guillotines into Greece last night.”

“Not from here,” David said. “I would have known that.”

“No, these were actually manufactured in Istanbul and driven down. Pretty soon they’ll be flyin’ ‘em here and there, and you know we’ll be pressed into service. You ought to pick a particularly strategic place you want to see or a shipment you want to monitor, find a reason to bring Hannah and Chang what’s-his-name, and I’ll have to requisition a Quasi Two.”

“A Two? How will you justify that? We want to avoid suspicion. You can fit two pilots and three passengers in something cheaper than a 15-million-Nick aircraft.”

“Yeah, but let’s say we want to take a huge load of guillotines and skids of biochips and injectors.”

“I’m listening. Still need more ammo to justify a Two.”

“Well, let’s say it’s somewhere that St. Nick hisself is gonna be.”

“Tell him who thought of that,” Abdullah said.

“I think you just did, big mouth.”

“Big mouth?”

“Teasin’, Smitty. Slow your camel down now.”

David cocked his head. “Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?”

“Is this a game?” Abdullah said.

“We are,” Mac said. “Jerusalem.”

David sat considering the possibilities. “I pass the word up the line that we want to be there, bring the injection expert and my best new computer prospect. We want to carry the maximum cargo load in an impressive craft that will look good for the potentate, play to his ego.”

“You think he’s egotistical?” Mac said, as seriously as if he meant it.

David smiled.

“Is he joking again?” Abdullah said. “Not enough cloth in Jordan to make a turban for Nicolae’s head.”

Mac threw his head back and laughed.

David was still deep in thought. “And the Quasi Two can be flown remotely.”

“Just about any plane can nowadays, but I’ve got lots of experience with these.”

“So we land somewhere out of sight on our way there. Then, from the safety of the ground, you fly that very expensive jet, with all that precious cargo-except us-in it, nose down right into the middle of one of the deepest bodies of water we can find.”

“With people watching.”

“Come again?”

“Let ‘em see it! You wanted us to think about a logical explanation for the accident. Well, forgive the painful subject, but we recently lost our cargo chief. She would have prohibited that much weight on that particular plane, but me bein’ a veteran, I thought it would handle it. Flyin’ it remote and also broadcasting from it remote, I start hollerin’ about a weight shift, cargo rolling, hard to control, Mayday, good-bye cruel world.”

“You guys are brilliant.”

“Thank you.”

“Both of us,” Abdullah said. “Right?”

“Of course,” David said. /

“Just thought of one more good one,” Abdullah said.

“Hold on now, Smitty,” Mac said. “Is this new to me?”

“Slow down your pony. You’ll like it. You want to do this in front of people, do it in Tel Aviv. Carpathia is flying through there. Do air show for him and crowds. Crash into Mediterranean, so deep they know we’re dead and plane is too deep to bother with search.”

“And where are we supposed to be during all this?” Mac said. “It’s going to be awfully hard to hide in Tel Aviv with Carpathia and all his crowds.”

“We don’t take off from Tel Aviv. We come straight from here to show, only they don’t know we stopped in Jordan. I know that place. We can land where no one sees. Send plane to Tel Aviv, do show, crash.”

“From how far away do you think I can remotely fly that plane, Smitty?”

“Sort of not remote. Take off remote, but flight plan, tricks, everything programmed into computer.”

Mac looked from Abdullah to David. “He may just have something there.”

“Really?” David said. “You can program the thing that specifically?”

“It would take some time.”

“Get on it.”

“Surprise, surprise,” Abdullah said. “Camel jockey come up with one.”

David’s cell phone rang. “Readout says urgent from Hannah.”

“Take it,” Mac said.

“Hey, what’s up?” David said.

“You’re 100 percent certain this connection is secure?”

“Absolutely. You all right?”

“I’m in a utility closet. Did you know Carpathia had a Peacekeeper executed today?”

“Actually, I did. Santiago?”

“Thanks for telling me. I just had to go get the body from Security lockup.”

“There wasn’t time to tell you, Hannah. Anyway, who knew you’d get assigned?”

“It was awful. I deal with death all the time, but he was shot between the eyes at point-blank range. And they aren’t even pretending it’s anything but what it was. He was executed by Carpathia himself! You know what for? Well, of course you do. You know everything.”

“I heard he talked too much.”

“Doesn’t sound very technical to me, David, but that’s what I heard too. Apparently he told someone something that Carpathia said in a private meeting.”

“I’m sorry you got in the middle of it, Hannah.”

“Yeah, well, I think I know who ratted him out.”

“You do?”

“Do you?” she said.

“Actually, I do.”

“David, how can you live with this stuff?”

“Don’t think it’s easy.”

“So, who told? Who got Santiago executed?”

“You said you knew, Hannah.”

“You’ll confirm it if I’m right?”

“Sure.”

“Hickman.”

“How’d you know?”

“I’m right, David?”

“You’re right.”

“He was just delivered to the morgue. Someone found him in his office with a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the temple.”

SIXTEEN

Buck and Albie joined and separated from and joined again a caravan of GC vehicles picking its way through what was left of Ptolemai’s. “Would you look at that,” Albie said, nodding toward open trucks carrying guillotines. “They’re ugly, but there’s really not much to ‘em, is there?”

Buck shook his head. “That’s one of my sidebar stories, how easily they can be assembled. They’re simple machines with basic, pattern-cut parts. Each is basically wood, screws, blade, spring, and rope. That’s why it was so easy for the GC to send out the specs and let anybody who wanted work and had the materials to have at it. You’ve got huge manufacturing plants reopening to mass-produce these, competing with amateur craftsmen in their backyards.”

“All for something the GC says will serve as a-what did they call it, officially?”

“Visual deterrent. They put just one at each mark application site, and everyone is supposed to fall in line.”

Albie stopped where a GC Peacekeeper was directing traffic. He signaled the young woman over. “I’m working here,” she said testily until she recognized the uniform. She saluted. “At your service, Commander.”

“We’ve been assigned the main detention facility, but I left the manifest in my bag. Are we close?”

“The main facility, sir?”

“I think that’s what it said.”

“Well, they’re all together about three clicks west. Take a left at your next intersection, and follow the unpaved road around a curve until it joins the rebuilt highway again. The center will be on your right, just inside the city. Can’t miss it. Massive, surrounded by barbed wire and more of us. Better hurry, though, if you want to see the fun. They’re going to do some chopping tonight if the rebels don’t soil themselves and change their minds.”

“Yeah?”

“Word I get is they’re lining them up and sorting them out now. The ones who go back to their cells with their heads attached will have a new tattoo tomorrow.”

David was exhausted. It was nearly 2300 hours Carpathia Time as he trudged from his office toward his quarters. He was stunned to hear energetic steps behind him and turned to see Viv Ivins, looking as fresh and gung ho as she did every morning. She carried a leather portfolio and smiled brightly at David.

“Evening, Director Hassid,” she called out as she drew alongside.

“Ma’am.”

“Great days, hmm?”

He didn’t know how long he could maintain the charade. “Interesting days, anyway,” he said.

She stopped. “I love when things fall into place.”

He thought that an unfortunate choice of words, given her personal coordination of guillotine production and distribution.

“Things humming along, are they?” he said.

“I’ve persuaded top brass not to display loyalty enforcement facilitators here at the palace.”

“Oh?”

“Not the best image.”

“They’re showing up all over the world.”

“And that’s fine. I can live with that. In fact, I’m all for it. Outside the capital city and the headquarters in particular, you will have certain elements who need the visual aid, a reminder of the seriousness of this test of loyalty. One would have to be pathologically committed to one’s cause to really decide against the mark. Seeing the consequence standing right before you as you make your decision will persuade those who merely want a little attention for stalling with their choice.”

“But not here.”

“Not necessary. If a person was not loyal to the risen potentate, why would he or she want to work here?

What I want to see produced here are pictures, still and moving, of happy, willing, joyful loyalists. The citizenry of the Global Community should see rapture on the faces of those it depends upon to administer the new world order. No enforcement is needed here. We are the examples to the world of the joy of commitment, the sense of fulfillment when one takes his stand. Follow?”

“Sure. And I have to say, I like the idea of those ugly contraptions not dotting the landscape here.”

“I couldn’t agree more. We start with new hires tomorrow, and there is much enthusiasm among them over being among the first to receive the potentate’s mark. All are opting for his image on their foreheads. I plan to go for the simple understatement, but I have to say, Mr. Hassid, it’s fun to see these kids today with their eagerness to stand out. You’re interviewing a prospect tomorrow.” “Right.”

“The Asian prodigy.” “That’s him.”

“What a family! His father is pleading to have his son be the first to receive the mark. It’s too late for that, as we’re beginning with political prisoners, but he very well could be the first GC employee.”

David blanched and tried to cover. “But he’s not been hired yet.”

“It’s a foregone conclusion though, right?” “Well, I need to talk with him at length, determine his suitability to take his last year of high school here, be away from his parents for the first time, see where he fits best. ...”

“But the odds of him not being hired somewhere here are minuscule. We could process him first and he would, in essence, be pre-approved to work in any department. Sort of like a pre-approved mortgage. First you qualify, then you can make an offer on anything in your price range.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” David blurted.

“Why not?”

“It just doesn’t seem as buttoned-down as we like to be. Let’s let the process run its course-do it right.”

“Oh, Mr. Hassid, honestly. What would be the harm?”

He shrugged. “I was told the boy is scared to death of needles and is fighting the whole idea.”

“Even to the point where he would pass up a golden opportunity here? He’s going to have to take the mark in the United Asian States anyway, or he’ll lose more than a job.”

“Maybe he’ll get used to the idea by then.”

“Oh, pish-posh, Director Hassid. If he’s so brilliant, it’s time for him to grow up. He may fight it, but it’ll be over in seconds and he’ll see he made a big to-do about nothing.”

“Well, my meeting with him is at 0900 hours. It can wait till after that, can’t it? I’d hate to try to interview him after he’s been through a trauma.”

“A trauma? I just told you-”

“But he’ll still be upset.”

“I can’t imagine them administering marks before 0900 anyway.”

In his room a few minutes later, David used his subnotebook to double-check his secretary’s schedule. / She had not informed him of a time for his appointment with Chang, and a quick look at her calendar showed why. The meeting had been confirmed at the end of the day for 1400 hours, two o’clock. It was something she would tell him in the morning.

David changed it on her calendar to 0900, then hacked into Personnel’s computer and did the same. He phoned 4054 and left a voice message: “Chang, our interview tomorrow has been changed to 9 A.M. Please do not go to Personnel or anywhere else until we’ve met. See you then.”

While he was finishing his message, his phone told him he had a call waiting. He punched in to find Ming, distraught. “It’s started here,” she said. “Has it started there?”

“Slow down, Ming. What’s started?”

“Application of the mark! The equipment arrived at Buffer this morning, and they’re already using it tonight.”

“Prisoners are getting the chip?”

“Yes! I can’t imagine it will be much longer for us staff. I need to bolt soon, but I wanted to check.”

“Any believers there? Anyone refusing the mark?”

“Not a one. They’re lining up for this thing as if they’ve been loyal scouts forever. I think they’re hoping they’ll get good behavior points. Truth is, they’ll still be rotting here, but with a mark on head or hand.”

David told her of his conversation with Viv and what he had done about it. “Oh, no, no,” she said. “At nine you must make Chang disappear. Get him out of there.” “We’re not prepared to leave yet, Ming.” “What are you going to do?”

“I’ll have to make up something, I guess. Some reason why he is just not ready. Maybe I’ll say I found evidence of immaturity, that I just think he’s too young to fit in.”

“You’re a director, David. Make it convincing. This has to work.”

“I have all night to think about it.” “And I have all night to pray about it.” “I’ll take all I can get, Ming. Listen, let me do something for you. I can get you reassigned to
USNA
.” “You could?”

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