Desecration: Antichrist Takes The Throne by Tim Lahaye, Jerry B. Jenkins Page A

essence you would debate his every point.”
    “But how?”
    “I will check with Chang, but the little camera atop your monitor, the one you now use only to project your image to the Tribulation Force when they are away from Chicago, could be used to broadcast over television as well.”
    “But might we risk showing clues that would give away where we are?”
    “We would have to work to preclude that, of course.”
    “But isn’t this Dr. Rosenzweig’s purview?” Tsion said. “Shouldn’t he be the one to counteract Antichrist?”
    “He probably will be,” Chloe said. “Any showdown between those two will likely be on international television anyway.”
    “Then what would I be needed for?”
    “Once the flight to Petra has commenced, Nicolae will be speaking out against you and us so-called Judah-ites. It would be like a tag-team wrestling match. When Chaim is no longer there to oppose him in person, you will debate him via his own television network,” Ming said.
    Tsion quietly accepted the manuscript back and keyed in the transmission. “I like the way you think, Mrs. Toy,” he said.
    “So do I,” Chloe said. “I only wish you could have mentioned Hattie by name or said that she was a Trib Force member.”
    “I did not want to give away that we even have people in the area, though I am certain the GC assumes we do.”
    “And yet, Tsion,” Chloe said, “you mentioned Petra by name.”
    The rabbi covered his mouth with his hand. “I did, didn’t I?”
    “I meant to say something before you transmitted it,”
    Chloe said.
    “That is why I wanted you to review it.”
    “I’m sorry, Tsion. I assumed you had a reason.”
    “It is not your fault,” he said, collapsing into a chair.
    “What was I thinking?”
----
    Rayford’s eyes popped open at dawn, and a decision he debated in the night had been made. Leah and Hannah had their mobile medical unit stocked and ready, so Leah could do double duty, also monitoring the incoming and outgoing Israelis. That meant Rayford didn’t have to stay at Mizpe Ramon. Surely he would be of more use actually piloting a chopper.
    He dressed quickly and found the airstrip buzzing. The sun shimmered over the horizon, and Rayford realized it wouldn’t be long until he and his comrades would begin counting the days to the end, the real end-the Glorious Appearing and the Millennial Kingdom. Much had to happen first, of course, but the head-spinning pace of the last several weeks would give way to precious lulls between the final judgments of God before the Battle of Armageddon. Then things would pick up again. How he looked forward to at least some rest between crises. Rayford pushed his hair back and put on his aviator’s cap. The next few days would determine whether he or his loved ones would even survive to the end.
----
    Buck stood under a shower as hot as he could stand it, but the King David must have installed some sort of a regulator. After a few minutes, the water went tepid, then cold. With personnel and energy decimated, there was only so much to go around.
    Buck put only enough money in his pocket to be sure he could top off the tank of the car. Following Chaim’s advice, he left his wallet and ID in the room. Finding a place to park was harder than the day before, and he had to walk a half mile farther, finally reaching the streets lined on each side with empty military personnel carriers.
    Early as it was, the Temple Mount was already filling. Colossal TV monitors were visible from every vantage point, and people waiting for the noon festivities occupied themselves watching the GC network feed and waving when they saw themselves on-screen.
    To Buck’s great relief, Chaim was in plain sight, not far from where the two witnesses had traded off sitting while the other preached. Buck rushed to Dr. Rosenzweig, who sat with his knees up, staring into the sky. “Morning, Chaim,” he said, but the man did not acknowledge him. “Sorry,” Buck added quickly.