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Authors: Ted Dekker

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He eased toward her. The woman was either high and hallucinating, or a plain lunatic. Not terrible actually; she would be his ticket off this post. He held out a reassuring hand.

“Please, miss. I've been here all day and I can assure you, there are no arks in these parts. Now if you'll just calm down.”

It dawned on him what she was trying to say. He stopped four feet from her and waved a hand through the smoke. “Do you mean the Orcs are after you? Like the Orcs from
The Lord of the Rings
?”

She stopped jumping, surprised but no longer frantic, as if a light had just gone on in her head.

A door slammed behind him and he spun back. The cruiser!

“Hey!”

A hand slapped at his waist, and he twisted back to see the woman hurl his revolver over the guardrail. He grabbed at her, but she was past him, running for the cruiser. He took a step in the direction she'd thrown the gun and immediately realized he would never retrieve it before they took off. He chased her.

“Stop!” He knew then that these were the two they had been looking for. “Stop!”

The engine fired and the woman piled in. With a squeal of tires his cruiser shot backward, peeled through a U-turn, and then roared off, leaving him straddling the yellow lines on the road.

He glanced down at his waist. No radio. He could get the gun, of course, but . . . John turned around and looked at the steaming car they'd abandoned. The tireless wheels were mangled. It was going nowhere. The trunk was open. The man had come from the trunk and snuck around, using the smoke for cover while the lady went on about the arks. Orcs.

Banana peckers! This was not good. Not good at all.

chapter 27

t
hey deposited the police cruiser in a small town called Pahrump and took a bus into Las Vegas. Miriam made it abundantly clear to Seth that his notion of “bold and silly” was far better characterized as “crazy and ridiculous,” and then only in generous terms. Even so, she had done her share of laughing as they sped away from the stranded cop at the state line.

The fact that she had raved on about an ark when she should have said Orc was the worst of it. He insisted he'd said Orc, not ark. And after all, he claimed, she'd seen the movie; she should know. But she finally decided to forgive him. The whole incident seemed to have endeared her to him, even more so than before.

Still, despite his outward pleasure with her performance, he maintained the same introspective nature he'd adopted after his experiment with the prayer. His ability to see forward in time hadn't stretched beyond three hours, but now he seemed to see more futures within that time. His sight was broadening if not lengthening, if she wasn't mistaken, and his headaches had increased, judging by the number of Advil he kept taking.

Las Vegas was a city of true wonder, its lights and colors surpassing her wildest imaginations. Seth referred to the huge casinos as hotels, but in her mind they were nothing less than enclosed cities.

They took adjoining rooms in Caesars Palace, both deluxe rooms in the Forum Towers. Miriam wasn't unaccustomed to luxury, of course, but nothing she'd experienced compared to the magical aura that surrounded them in this magnificent palace.

The rooms were trimmed with gold and mirrors and ancient symbols of Greeks—pillars and horses and, yes, Greek gods like her own.

“It's a waste of resources,” Seth said as she swept through the room, delighted. She stopped at the window high above the city and looked out at a dizzying ocean of colors, red and blue and orange and green, moving and flashing with glitter and glamour.

She let the sights go and faced him. “A waste on whom? I'm not worth this?”

He looked at her, blushing, and she knew his mind was scrambling. “No. That's not what I meant. For you, this is hardly acceptable.”

For a moment they searched each other's eyes. His were soft and lost, and looking into them, sadness overtook her.
In another time, in
another place, I could love you, Seth. But not here. Never
.

Seth cleared his throat and turned to the window. “Hilal is here,” he said. “But he's not what I expected.”

“And what did you expect?” Miriam asked, disappointed that he had guessed their destination before they'd had a chance to enjoy it.

“I expected Clive to have the police out in force, searching the hotels and streets. But the Las Vegas police aren't even aware of us. I can see numerous incidents in which we could walk by the authorities without being noticed, much less shipped off to prison. Hilal must be here on his own.”

“Are we safe or are we not?”

He paused. “Safe.”

“Then let's go shopping,” she said.

“Sure.”

They wandered through the shops in the forum, engulfed by a sea of people who meandered about in a daze. The prices seemed high by Seth's estimation, but price was one thing Miriam had learned to ignore. Being a princess did have one or two advantages.

In addition to the costumes they bought for the coming day, Miriam could not resist purchasing suitable clothing. A simple yet elegant emerald dress for her and a pair of black slacks with a beige shirt for Seth. And new shoes for both.

They dined at the Terrazza restaurant on lobster and crayfish, a favorite of Seth's. She insisted and he agreed. It wouldn't have mattered what they ate; Seth was clearly more interested in her than in the food. She decided then, for the first time, not to discourage him. Women were created to be beautiful for a reason. Their faces were not meant to be hidden away by black veils for their husbands alone. And she was in Las Vegas, for heaven's sake! Seth liked her, maybe even loved her. She liked him very much as well. She would make nothing more or less of the matter.

Miriam sat across from Seth and laughed with him, unencumbered by the shackles of her upbringing for the first time. They drank wine and they drank freedom, and Miriam could not have imagined either tasting so delicious.

They retired early and she, at least, slept like a baby, properly pampered and refreshed for the adventure before them. It was ten o'clock in the morning before Seth knocked on the door that separated her suite from his.

“Come.”

Seth opened the door, grinning. “The gentleman has arrived.”

She stood back and looked at him, stunned by the transformation. His hair was neatly slicked back above his ears. His face was clean shaven and smooth except for a mustache he'd attached to his upper lip. Dressed in the black slacks and beige shirt, he looked every bit the dashing man.

“My, you do clean up, don't you?”

“And you, my princess,” he returned, eyeing her, “you are absolutely stunning.”

“Yes?” She cocked both hands and touched her wig. “You like it?”

“But of course. I think I would find you beautiful in a gunnysack, but you are quite ravishing in this dress.”

“Thank you.”

The straight brown wig hung just below the ears, masking her own long black hair. The disguises were Seth's idea, and despite the apparent lack of danger, he had insisted they carry through. They would be at the gambling tables for some time, perfectly framed by a dozen cameras. No need to advertise.

Seth smoothed his shirt and walked in, upright. “Your future awaits us. Are you ready?”

“I'm breathless with anticipation,” she said, stretching out her hand for him.

He took it, kissed it lightly, and then spun her around in a dance. She twirled so that her dress rose to a bell.

“Queen of dancers,” he said. He bowed, put one hand on her hip, and marched her across the room in a stiff dance. She was positive he was faking. When they reached the window, he spun around and marched her back.

“This is the way we dance in California,” he said in a British accent.

One end of his mustache had detached and fluttered over his lip. She couldn't hold back a giggle.

“What?” he demanded, still in proper British character.

“It seems that the gentleman's mustache is objecting.”

Seth felt his upper lip. “What? This?” He ripped off the mustache. “Nonsense! This isn't a mustache at all. It's a morsel left over from dinner last evening. I've been saving it for now.” He stuffed the strip of hair into his mouth, jerked his head back as if swallowing, and then promptly spit it out.

“Whew! Terribly stale, what.”

Miriam put both hands to her face and howled.

His clowning turned to embarrassment. She walked up to him. “You've ruined your disguise. Although I will say, with your hair combed you look quite different.”

Someday she would either be forced back to Saudi Arabia or delivered safely to Samir by this man. Her heart surged with gratitude. She would miss his company. Miriam looked into his eyes and placed a hand on his cheek. “I owe you my life, Seth. I want you to know that. There is nothing I can ever do to repay what you've done for me.”

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

Seth turned beet-red. She could grow accustomed to the power that a woman held in this country, she thought.

“Well, then. Let's go win us some money,” he said. “This should be like taking candy from a baby.”

He turned for the door, reached for the knob, then hesitated. He stared at the door. A bolt of fear killed the moment. Now what?

“Seth? What is it?”

He gazed ahead, frozen.

“Seth?”

He blinked once. Twice. Then he swallowed and cleared his throat.

“Nothing. It's nothing,” he said.

“I've seen
nothing
with you, and
nothing
is always something. What's going on?”

He forced a grin and faced her. “Really, it's nothing. Nothing.”

“I won't accept that!”

He stepped forward and kissed her on the forehead. She stiffened.

But he was only kissing her on the forehead, and it was a gentle kiss.

“That's in case I don't see you after today.”

“What do you mean?”

“You'll understand later.”

He turned around and—just like that—shed the strange trance that had overcome him. “Ready? Let's go.”

Clive Masters waited patiently in the Learjet as it taxied to the Las Vegas airport terminal. Now that he'd arrived, he couldn't waste any time. Assuming his gamble worked at all.

He picked up his telephone and dialed the Las Vegas chief of police's private number. Benson answered on the second ring.

“Send the car.”

Benson spoke off the phone and then returned. “It's on the way.”

“Good. Now I need you to do me a favor—”

“Listen, Masters, NSA or not, I need to know what you're trying to prove here. I'm not accustomed to working blind. I agreed to the car, but—”

“I'm trying to explain. Forgive me, but I honestly didn't know myself until just a few minutes ago. I need you to launch crash surveillance on the casinos. In particular the larger ones with high-stakes tables. I can't tell you who we're looking for, or what they look like. Just check for anything unusual.”

“Do you know who you're looking for?”

Clive hesitated. “Yes. But I can't tell you. This will make sense later. And I don't want any suspicious characters apprehended, just reported. Can you do that?”

The phone was silent for a moment. “I suppose. Why no word until now?”

“You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Just go with me on this. I need eyes. I'll wager my pension you'll find something, and if I'm right, we have only two or three hours.”

“Can't you tell me anything?”

“No.”

“I'll see what I can do.”

“Another thing. I know this goes against every rule you've ever been taught, but law enforcement needs to stay out of this. No police, no nothing. This needs to come strictly from camera operators at the casinos.”

“Now you're over my head, Masters. That's not the way we find people in this town.”

“It is today. Just do it. I'll explain when I get there.”

He hung up and sat back. The terminal building rose to his left.

The whole idea was simple, really. Everyone was in the dark. Clive was little more than a blind fool chasing a man who could see clearly in this world of futures. He could not see into the future himself, so he would blind Seth by taking the futures away. At least those futures that involved a pursuit.

He had barely convinced the teams to pull back from Las Vegas, rather than smother the city with every available law enforcement officer from Los Angeles to Salt Lake City.

If what Seth had told him in the alley was true, then Seth's gift was characterized by two critical elements: One, he was seeing
potential
futures. Two, he was seeing futures only a brief time out. He was whipping them on the street because he knew their next move before they did to the tune of two or three hours.

So then, they wouldn't give Seth their next move.

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