CHAPTER 12
Barak switched the TV set off and hurried back to his closet; he grasped his suitcase, packed the night before and stored in the office closet for this moment. He rushed toward the elevator and rode down to the first floor. Outside, he found a jeep waiting.
He stared at the man in the driver’s seat. “Who—?”
“I am an angel; my name is Sam. God has sent me to get you safely to your rendezvous. Get in, fast; there’s no time to waste!”
Jacob did as he was told. Sam pressed the accelerator, and the jeep sped down the road.
“Tell me, do you know Andrew?” Barak asked the Special Forces angel. Sam nodded. “What was Andrew doing at the temple?” He leaned back against the soft, upholstered seat and allowed himself to feel the cool air emanating from the air conditioner. How good this felt, after all the frigid temperatures they had endured as of late!
Sam did not take his eyes off the road. He turned onto a side street to avoid the earthquake rubble. “Andrew is an angel of death,” he explained, at last. “His job is to take people Home when they die. Although you didn’t see them, there were several other angels of death at the temple as well. Andrew also does casework on the side, working with Tess and Monica and Gloria.” He paused. “He took Home the soul of your cousin Deborah when she died in the earthquake.”
Barak nodded. He understood now.
While Sam escorted the prime minister to the valley, the IDF soldiers conducted a hasty roundup of people at their homes and businesses throughout the areas not demolished by the earthquake. “You must stop what you’re doing and leave right now,” they would order the people who came to their doors. “Antonio Puccini is going to kill everyone in Jerusalem who won’t worship him. If you have anything on hand to take with you, get it now, because there is no time to pack.”
Some of the people hid in the backs of their homes and refused to answer when the soldiers knocked on their doors; the soldiers left them behind. Of those who answered their doors, only a few people argued, and the soldiers managed to persuade them by pressing their guns against their chests. Those people accompanied the soldiers reluctantly. Most of the people who evacuated already had backpacks, suitcases, or satchels packed; they simply snatched them and left with the soldiers. Little did the IDF soldiers know that angels had already made advance visits to the people the IDF was now evacuating.
“How did you know we were coming?” one private asked an elderly man. “You must have been prepared, because you already had your things ready.”
The man smiled, as he leaned on his cane and clutched his suitcase to his left side. He glanced at the cloudless sky, then back at the soldier. “An angel came here minutes ago, and warned me to get ready,” he explained. “He said that God was going to take me to Petra, and to be ready to leave at a moment’s notice.”
Meanwhile, en route to the hotel to help evacuate his wife and daughter, Richard, for his part, silently prayed that God would get his family to Petra safely. He had already phoned them, warning them to be ready; Ryan had made a similar call to Kristen. Richard just had to make sure his family was safe. If anything happened to them, he didn’t know what he would do!
Ryan, seated in the driver’s seat, smiled at his brother-in-law. “Don’t worry,” he said. “God has sent his angels to help us, and I’m sure he’ll get our families to Petra in one piece.” He turned up the air conditioner so that its artificial breeze would cool them both.
Richard bit his lower lip. “That’s what I’m counting on.” He took a deep breath, then glanced down at his crisp pilot’s uniform. Ryan had also donned his.
Ryan pulled up in front of the hotel; a couple of soldiers accosted him as he stepped out. “You must go to the airport or the valley, gentlemen,” one of them said.
“We know. We’ve been assigned to fly two of the planes in the evacuation.” Richard stepped onto the curb and looked up at the towering hotel building. “But first, we must get our families out! They’re going with us. Our families are in this hotel, right now, waiting for us to pick them up.”
“We’ll come with you.” The soldiers accompanied the two men into the lobby and up the elevator, shoes thudding on the carpet.
Ryan parted with Richard to rush toward his own hotel room, accompanied by one of the soldiers. Without knocking, Richard darted into the room his family occupied. He shouted for joy as he rushed toward his wife and daughter. “You’re here! Thank goodness!”
Laughing, Christina hugged him. “Of course we are—you didn’t think we were going to leave without you, did you? Especially after you called us.”
“Of course.” Richard didn’t smile, but glanced back at the soldier standing at attention in the entrance. “It’s time to go—right now!" he ordered. “Come on! Let’s hurry! Ryan is getting his family, too—we’ll meet them in the hall.” He looked from Christina to Rachel. “Rachel, honey, you’ll have to leave your jewelry and most of your books behind—just take what’s in your suitcase and backpack. Your Bible’s packed, you say?”
Rachel nodded. She glanced back and forth from the window to the door, twice.
“Good. Come on, hurry!”
Christina and Rachel slung their backpacks over their shoulders, then grabbed their purses and suitcases; on the soldier’s urging, they left without locking their door. “How long are we going to be at Petra, Daddy?” Rachel asked.
“Until Jesus returns, sweetheart, three-and-a-half years from now.” Richard didn’t look back. “We’ll be safer there than anywhere else.”
They met the Whittakers in the hall, then took the elevator to the hotel lobby; outside, they found two jeeps waiting by the curb. Christina paused to look at the sky. “It’s so sunny and so warm, and the breeze feels so good,” she said. “Not a cloud in the sky.” She climbed into the back of the jeep, followed by her daughter.
Richard smiled, then followed suit. “Yes, God has heard our prayers for the weather conditions, and for the day of the week. It’s unseasonably warm once again, which suits me just fine!” Rachel grinned, as she hugged her purse to her side, then set it in her lap. She had already set her suitcase on the car floor at her feet.
She leaned against her mother, taking deep breaths. Christina put her arm around her daughter and patted her upper arm. Minutes later, they arrived at the airport, where the two families scrambled out of the jeeps. Ryan and Richard made a beeline for their planes, accompanied by their families.
Pausing, Christina gazed down at the smooth concrete at her feet, then at her husband. “I’m pleased to see that it’s going so well.” Richard nodded agreement.
At Richard’s request, a soldier escorted his family to the plane he had been assigned to fly. “Pray,” he told his wife in an undertone, as they reached the entrance. “Puccini’s going to order that we all be run down and murdered, so we are still going to need God’s protection. Even those of us who are flying, I suspect.”
“And you shall have it.” Tess appeared next to them. A ruby brooch sparkled on her chest in the sunlight. “God has assigned a great many angels to protect the people fleeing the city, including myself. And Michael. Also, He has heard your prayers for ideal travel conditions, as well as your prayers that the evacuation take place on another day but Saturday. Don’t fear, Richard, but pray. And trust God.”
She patted his arm. Richard and Christina nodded, then Christina left to lead Rachel to one of the passenger seats. Tess disappeared.
Meanwhile, Jacob and Sam arrived at the valley a few moments later. A huge multitude milled around, surrounded by various vehicles.
A shout from a megaphone silenced the crowd. All turned to face the general standing on a rise near them.
“We are going across the Jordanian border—to Petra!” General Meir’s voice boomed from the megaphone he held in front of his mouth, followed by a faint echo. “There we will stay until the threat of annihilation by Puccini or by our other enemies is behind us. Since last night, supplies have been airlifted there, so you will not be without food and clothes during our stay in that rock city. What we cannot provide, Jehovah will. In order to get you there safely, though, we must proceed in an orderly manner!”
He paused. “As you may know, airplanes have been made available to transport those who are infirm or who have small children—those who will be at the greatest risk, should Puccini attempt to run us down. Other soldiers are transporting those people to the airport right now. The rest of us are coming to this valley, to ride in the jeeps, the trucks, the buses, and the many taxicabs and other cars the city is making available for this emergency evacuation.”
He nodded toward the assembled soldiers milling below. “These soldiers will conduct you to your waiting vehicles. Rest assured we will do all in our power to keep families together.”
It took an hour to assist all of the people on board the various vehicles. During that time, plane after plane took off in the distance. Their screeching squeals reached Barak’s ears as he watched them take off.
Back at the temple, a startled Puccini blinked, then stared around him, scanning the now-silent temple courtyard. Those around him did the same, gaping at him and at one another.
Grim-faced, Puccini stalked back to the Holy of Holies and scanned the room. The dead priests’ bodies lay in burnt piles on the floor. “What—what has happened?” he asked Elijah Dayan, as he entered the room and slowly approached his boss.
Dayan shook his head. “I don’t know, excellency, but something did. It seems we were hypnotized.” His voice shook.
Pressing his lips into a tight line, Puccini jerked a cell phone out of his pants pocket. “What is happening?” he barked.
“The residents of Jerusalem are fleeing the city, Your Worship,” the voice on the other end said.
Puccini cursed. “Then we will have to kill them all! Order out the EU army—immediately!”
“Yes, Your Excellency.” A click followed.
Puccini glared at the others, his face beet-red. “I will show these rebellious people who is god!” Spitting on the floor, he stalked back to the courtyard, then toward the entrance, followed by the others.
END OF CHAPTER 12