CHAPTER 8
A taxi pulled to a stop in front of him. A passenger stepped out, wearing a pair of jeans and a blue T-shirt. Andrew! Ben thought, slowly exhaling and relaxing his stance.
“I believe you need a ride,” Andrew said, with a chuckle. Nodding agreement, Ben climbed into the back seat. He leaned against the upholstered seat. Andrew climbed in next to him and put on his seat belt; Ben did the same.
The taxi driver half-turned to face his two passengers. “Where to?”
“The government building, Sam,” Andrew told him. Nodding, the chocolate-skinned Special Forces angel drove out of the parking lot onto the street. “You remember Sam," he said.
Ben grinned. “I sure do! He acted as taxi driver after I tried to assassinate Puccini. It seems I’m being surrounded by angels at present.” Sam laughed.
Andrew chuckled in his turn, then gazed at Ben, an amused smile on his face. “Ben,” he said, gently, “God sent an angel to shut the lions’ mouths when King Darius had Daniel thrown into their den. He will not fail to protect you now.” He pulled a gleaming pocket watch out of his jeans pocket as he spoke.
Ben nodded. “No. I know you’re right. But—well, it’s all too easy to forget.”
“I know.” Andrew patted his arm. “But God promised you His protection, and He never fails to keep His promises. Sam and I will keep you hidden from any eyes that might otherwise recognize you or be drawn to your Orthodox Jew garb while you’re there.” He glanced down at his watch, then inserted it into his jeans pocket. “Don’t waste any time once we get there, because you’ll need every moment.”
“That’s right,” Sam told him. “Every minute counts now.” Ben acquiesced. He leaned back and closed his eyes, listening to the engine humming.
A few minutes later, the taxi pulled to a stop in front of the government building. As Ben stepped onto the curb, sneakers softly thudding beneath him, a supernatural peace welled up in his heart. He didn’t know what would happen, but he felt the calm assurance that God was with him, guarding him.
Ben entered the elegant lobby; to his relief, no one paid him any attention. His sneakers made almost no sound on the thick carpet. He entered a curved hall, where doors lined both sides. An elevator stood at the end of that hall. As he waited for it to come to the first floor, he silently prayed that God would lead him to the right floor and the correct door.
The elevator came; to his relief, he found Andrew waiting for him inside. As soon as the elevator door slid shut, Andrew said, “You couldn’t see us, Ben, but God sent Sam and me in with you, to shield you from the sight of the people in the lobby. Just trust Him to protect you—He will.” He inserted his hands into his pockets.
“I will,” Ben promised.
Andrew glanced down at Ben’s own bulging pants pocket. “Is your cell phone switched off?”
Ben yanked it out of his pocket. “No, it’s not! Glad you asked.” Chuckling ruefully, he pressed the button on top with his thumb, to turn it off, then shoved the cell phone back into his pocket. The two stopped speaking; Ben listened to the elevator’s soft hum.
It stopped on the 10th floor, and the door slid open. “Puccini’s suite is in room 1003,” Andrew told him, as they stepped out into the carpeted hall. “Just stand outside his door and listen.”
Nodding acquiescence, Ben tiptoed toward the door. He leaned against it, holding his breath.
“Oh, yes.” He heard Puccini chuckle on the other side. “I have protected and shielded Israel long enough. I didn't tell Jacob Barak during our meeting, but I am finished with giving that nation special privileges. Now it is time the Jews paid the piper. If Israel wants me to continue to protect it, it will have to worship me.”
“Israel and the rest of the world.” Elijah Dayan’s voice. “Rest assured, Your Worship, it will be my pleasure to promote that.”
“I know it will.” Antonio’s voice sounded pleased. Ben heard a drawer click shut. “Very soon, I want you to announce on television the new economic plan the world is supposed to follow. But first—tomorrow—I have to make a little trip to Israel.”
“And what are you going to do there?”
A pause. “I am going to force the Israeli priests to end their sacrifices. To worship my statue, which I shall order set up there, and to worship me. At the same time, Elijah, I want you to set up another statue in Jerusalem itself, so you’re going to have to come with me.”
“Consider it done, excellency.”
Another pause. Puccini’s voice hardened. “I am fully prepared to execute—without trial—all Jews who refuse to comply with my new orders. The decision as to whether or not to worship me will not be an option—all Jews and all people over the world will be required to do so. Those who refuse will die.”
“And how will they die?”
Yet another pause. “By guillotine.”
Ben had heard enough. He knew all he had needed to find out. Now it only remained to get out of the building and share the bad news with Jacob.
To his horror, the door swung open. Ben slid behind it, silently praying, Please, God, blind their eyes!
END OF CHAPTER 8