Armageddon: The Cosmic Battle Of The Ages (35 page)

“No! You come with weapons!”

“Come, let us reason together!”

“Listen. Shh! Listen to him!”

“I come to offer pardon. I am willing to compromise. I wish you no ill. If you are willing to serve me and be obedient, you shall eat the good of the land; but if you refuse and rebel, you shall be devoured by the sword. I will rid myself of my adversaries and take vengeance on my enemies. I will turn my hand against you and thoroughly purge you.

“But it does not have to be this way, citizens of the Global Community. If you will lay down your arms and welcome me into your city, I will guarantee your peace and safety.

“This will be your sign to me. If at the count of three I hear silence for fifteen seconds, I will assume you are willing to accede to my requests. A single gunshot into the air during that time will be your signal that you would rather oppose me. But I warn you, half of Jerusalem is in captivity already. The entire city could be overthrown easily within an hour. The choice is yours at the count of three.”

But before Carpathia could utter the first number, thousands of weapons fired into the air, including Buck’s and Tsion’s.

The enemy’s attempt to control the horses and surround Petra was still not working. Rayford stood on a precipice and watched through binoculars as more Unity vehicles were deployed. The horizon was full of dust and smoke, and the mass of munitions and hardware looked like a black, roiling mass, filling his vision and oozing toward him like lava.

“I’m going to let them advance only so far,” George said. “Then it’s DEWs again and fifty-calibers.”

“Like trying to dam a tsunami with BBs,” Rayford said.

When the shooting stopped in Jerusalem, the ghostly silence returned. The One World Unity Army did not immediately attack, but Buck almost wished they had. The quiet was disquieting. He feared the next sound would be the proverbial freight train that tornado victims always mentioned, only this twister would consist of an unending horde of marauders who would stomp Jerusalem to dust.

But if that’s what it took to usher in Jesus, well, bring it on.

Strangely, the crowd wanted to hear more from Tsion, and Buck was impressed that the rabbi was ready. “It is not too late!” Tsion cried. “Make your stand for Messiah now! Repent, choose, and be saved!” And many did.

Now even Sebastian seemed alarmed. The massive flow of horses, men, and weaponry advancing toward Petra was so enormous that as it spread and separated and filled in again, it blocked out the horizon, the desert sands, the rocks.

It was as if a cloud of locusts were blotting out the sun. No human could have imagined the scope of the enemy. They had somehow rallied, somehow overcome their madness and blindness, somehow broken out of their lull. And here they came.

They fanned out and flanked Petra on all sides, slowly filling in as far as the eye could see. And while their front lines were still a mile or so from the perimeter, there was no end to the swarm. The eye could not reach the back of column after column after column of millions strong that kept coming and coming and coming.

And when they were in place, they merely stopped and waited. For what was anybody’s guess. But even when they stopped, there was no gap, no holes in their coverage, no end of their ranks.

“That, Rayford,” Sebastian said, “is just a whole lot of army. If every one of our weapons fired every one of its bullets and each one was a flat-out kill, we wouldn’t put a dent in that wave.”

“What do you think about riding out there about a half mile and seeing if you can smoke a peace pipe with somebody?”

“You watch too much TV, Captain.”

“Seriously, how about another round of
DEW
rays? See if we can push ‘em back a bit.”

“If I thought they’d react like dominoes I would. There really isn’t far for them to go, because they’ll run into their own replacements. Think we can get millions to stampede?”

Rayford shook his head. “I wouldn’t mind seeing what that would do to them. Maybe they wouldn’t be so eager to get closer.”

“But, Ray, there’s so many of them.”

Tsion was still holding forth when a sound like a bomb shook the area, and people scattered for cover. Within seconds came the report that a second battering ram had penetrated the Old City. This time the Unity Army had eschewed any gate and had broken through the north-eastern wall of the Old City, about halfway between the Lion’s Gate and the northeast corner.

Hundreds of Jewish rebels raced toward the site, and to Buck’s dismay Tsion took off behind them, not even discussing options. Buck had no choice but to follow, trying to catch Tsion in the melee. By the time he caught up, the battle was in full swing, and amazingly, the Jews seemed to have the upper hand again. They were pushing the army back, and fierce hand-to-hand combat over the battering ram almost saw it fall into rebel hands again.

Just as the rebellion was forcing the army back through the wall, several on the Unity front line turned and opened fire with high-powered automatic weapons, a grenade launcher, and what looked to Buck like a bazooka. He joined in returning fire, and the invasion was briefly squelched, but he was horrified to see more than a hundred dead or wounded Israelis all around him. He wondered how close he had come to deadly fire himself.

The hole in the wall seemed to be secure for the moment, so Buck turned to grab Tsion and pull him back toward the Bethesda pool. But the rabbi was on his knees, feet tucked awkwardly beneath him. His Uzi had slipped off his shoulder, the strap near his elbow now, the weapon dragging.

Buck grabbed the shoulder of his jacket to help him up, but when he pulled, Tsion pivoted on one knee and flopped to the pavement. “Tsion! Come on! Let’s go!”

But he was a deadweight.

“Are you all right?” Buck demanded, turning Tsion’s face toward him.

“I do not think so, friend.”

“Are you hit?”

“I am afraid I am.”

“Where?”

“I am not sure.”

“Can you move?”

“No.”

“Can I move you?”

“Please. You had better try.”

Buck didn’t have time to even think about being fancy. He grabbed Tsion’s weapon and strapped it on his left shoulder, then got around behind the rabbi’s head and thrust both hands under his arms. He bent his knees and lifted, walking backward, dragging the older man through the streets. He was grateful the shooting had stopped, if only temporarily.

Buck was cramping, having pulled his friend about an eighth of a mile, but he didn’t want to stop until they were safe in the little chamber he remembered at Bethesda. He kept looking behind him to make sure the way was clear, but when he turned back he realized Tsion was also leaving a thick trail of blood.

Buck stopped to rest and check Tsion. He hurried around and opened the man’s jacket. There he found the source of blood. Tsion could not have been shot in the heart or he would be dead already. But he had lost a lot of blood, which had flowed from near his sternum, down his belly, under his jacket, over his crotch, and into the street.

Tsion was pale, and his eyes threatened to roll back in his head. Buck leaned close to hear his shallow breathing.

“Stay with me, friend,” he said.

“Let me go, Cameron. Find shelter. I could do worse than die in the streets of my beloved city.”

“You’re not going to die, Tsion. You’re going to hang on to see this victory, all right?”

“I wish.”

“Don’t wish! Work with me!”

Buck whipped off his jacket and his shirt, rolled up his shirt, and stuffed it into the wound. The hole was nearly the size of Buck’s fist. “I have to get you to shelter,” he said. “You up for a few more feet?”

“I am feeling nothing anymore, Cameron. You go. Please.”

“I will not leave you here.”

“Come, come. I will not be here long. We both know that.”

“I’m taking you to the shelter.”

“Do not do it for my sake.”

“Then for mine.”

Buck knew he was doing Tsion no good. The shirt popped out, and a great mass of blood gushed. Tsion moaned. Life seemed to be escaping him. His eyes were watery and pale, his lips blue. He had begun to shake all over.

Buck wrestled him into the shelter and tried stanching the blood flow again, but Tsion reached for him with weak, fluttery hands. He finally got hold of one of Buck’s hands and pulled it toward him.

“Do not, friend. Please. It is too late.”

“I don’t want to lose you here, Tsion!”

“Come close,” he whispered. “Listen to me.” He was rasping now, taking labored breaths between words.

“I can say … with Paul, `I am already … being poured out … as a drink offering, and the time of my departure is at hand…. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith…. Finally, there is laid up for me … the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will give to me on that Day, and not to me only … but also to all who have loved His appearing.”’

“Tsion, don’t! Stay with me!”

“Cameron … because of Jesus … my wife and children … forev-”

Sebastian had ordered another round from the DEWs, and Rayford had to admit it was something to watch as the front line of the pervasive mass fell back in agony, and the ripple effect could be seen for miles. Razor had the fifty-calibers ready in the event of a counterattack, but none came. That just made things weirder. The city of refuge, a million strong, sat like a pea in the middle of an ocean of enemies that seemed waiting to squash it.

Rayford’s phone chirped, and he saw on the readout it was Buck. “Talk to me.”

Buck’s voice was thick. “He’s gone.” “Tsion?”

“Hit in the chest. Nothing I could do.”

“You need to get back here, Buck. We’ll send somebody.”

“They’ll never get in, and I can’t leave him.”

“Buck! Come on. He’s gone. I hate it too, but like you said, there was nothing you could do, and certainly nothing you can do now.”

“Nobody could get in here, and I can’t imagine getting out.”

“You all right?”

“Didn’t foresee this, frankly.”

“Keep your phone handy. No sense doing anything foolish now. We’ve got to be very close to the end.”

Buck crossed Tsion’s feet at the ankles. He closed his jacket over the death wound and pulled Tsion’s hands together, interlocking the fingers at his waist. Buck smoothed Tsion’s hair, closed his eyes, and took a last look at his face. “You almost made it, friend,” he said. He draped his jacket over Tsion’s torso and face.

Brandishing both Uzis now, he headed for Herod’s Gate, where two young rebels seemed to have a decent vantage point. It wasn’t the safest spot, and it sure didn’t fit Rayford’s advice of not doing anything foolish. But Buck didn’t know what else to do.

Mac was on the phone from the other side of the perime-ter. “Rayford, if I was to ask Sebastian to lend you to us, you think that would be doable?”

“He’d probably be glad to get rid of me. Let me ask.”

“What’s he need?” George said.

“Mac? Sebastian wants to know what for.”

“Don’t want to say.”

“That’s not going to cut it with him; you know that.”

“I’m supposed to tell him the truth?”

“Never hurts.”

Mac whispered, “I need somebody to talk to. Smitty’s about two hundred yards to the west, and Otto’s drivin’ me bats. Plus, for real, we could use some manpower here. Like I could use an
ATV
to check on my troops, east and west. You got as many Carpathia troops out your way as we do back here?”

“There’s no end to them, Mac.”

“I’m countin’ on Jesus real soon. But in the meantime, could you come?”

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