Rayford mentally kicked himself. He had vastly underestimated the time and his ability to pick up Albie, settle on the disposition of both the fighter jet and the Gulf-stream, and get back to the new safe house before sunrise. The sun was already toying with the horizon. He patted his pants pocket for his phone. He felt for it in his flight bag, his jacket, on the floor.

He wanted to swear, but since coming to his senses just days before, Rayford acknowledged that he needed a return to discipline. He had learned from an old friend in college something he had then rejected as too esoteric and way too touchy-feely. His broad-minded friend had called it his "opposite trigger" mode, and while in it, he forced himself to respond in ways diametrically opposed to how he felt. If he wanted to shout, he whispered. If he wanted to smack someone, he gently caressed his or her shoulder.

Rayford hadn't thought about that old friend or his crazy idea until the lonely, emotional flight from the Middle East to Greece and then to the United North American States. And now he decided to try it. He wanted to swear at himself for being shortsighted and for losing his phone. Instead, he surveyed his mind for an opposite response. One opposite of swearing was blessing, but whom would he bless? Another was praying.

"Lord," he began, "once again I need some help. I'm mad at myself and have few options. I'm exhausted, but I need to know what to do."

Almost instantly Rayford remembered that Albie had his phone. Albie had a phone of his own, too, but in the bustle and grabbing of various items, Rayford had entrusted his to his friend. Sometime soon he would have to get someone to rig a radio base in the safe house with a secure channel to the chopper so he could communicate directly. Meanwhile, he couldn't tell the rest of the Tribulation Force where he was or that he would not be returning until at least late that same evening.

Neither could he determine whether Albie was all right. He would have to simply land, using his alias with the tower, and hope Albie was waiting for him up on their computers. "She wouldn't be in the system yet," he was told, "even if she were here."

"You're not swiping bar codes on the badges of employees as they are admitted?"

"They're not actually being admitted, Director. Everybody goes to triage, the living are treated, and the dead pronounced. Cataloging them is low on the priority list, but we'll eventually get everyone logged in."

"How will I know if she's there?"

"You may come look, but don't interfere and keep out of the way."

"Where's triage?"

"As far east as you can go from our main tent. We try to start 'em in the shade of three tents, but we're out of space and they're in and out of there as fast as we can move 'em."

"Mostly sunstroke?" David said.

"Mostly lightning, Director."

David left messages on Annie's phone and tried every other source he could think of that might know her whereabouts. Medical Services was too busy to look her "Tower to GC chopper! Do you copy?"

"This is GC chopper, Kankakee," Rayford said, trying to cover that he was rattled. "My apologies. Asleep at the stick here."

"Not literally, I hope."

"No, sir."

"State your business."

"Uh, yeah, civilian under the authority of Deputy Commander Marcus Elbaz."

"Mr. Berry?"

"Roger."

"Deputy Commander Elbaz asks that we set your mind at ease about your phone."

"Roger that!"

"Cleared for landing to the south where he will meet you in Hangar 2. You can appreciate we're shorthanded here. You can handle your own securing and refueling."

Ten minutes later Rayford asked Albie how long he thought he could keep up the ruse on the GC. "As long as your comrade Hassid is in the saddle at the palace. He's a remarkable young man, Rayford. I confess I had to hold my breath more than once here. They were tough, short of personnel as they are. I had to go through two checkpoints."

Rayford squinted. "They let me in without a second glance, and I hadn't even contacted the tower."

"That's because you're with me and a civilian."

"You convinced 'em, eh?"

"Totally. But I have to hand it to your friend. Not only does he have me on the international GC database with name, rank, and serial number, but he also has me assigned to this part of the United North American States. I'm here because I'm supposed to be here. I check out better than most of the legitimate GC personnel."

"David's good," Rayford said.

"The best. I blustered and acted impatient and pretended they would get in trouble if they detained me too long. But they were unmoved-until the second checkpoint ran me through the computer and reached David's database. Someday he'll have to tell me how he does that. He entered all of my information, and when my papers matched with what they saw on the screen, I was gold. Then I began barking orders, telling them to pave the way for you, that we had urgent business and must be on our way."

Rayford told Albie it would be impossible to return to the safe house until dark and that he might as well carry him back to Palwaukee so he could move the Gulfstream to Kankakee.

"Would you rather have some fun?" Albie said. "You want to see if GC has torched your old safe house yet and do it for them if not?"

"Not a bad idea," Rayford said. "If they just burned it, fine, but if they start combing it for evidence, I worry what we might have left."

"They don't have the personnel for that," Albie said, moving toward the helicopter. "Fueled up?" Rayford nodded.

"The fighter is too, ready whenever we need it." Albie slung his bag over his shoulder, dug in it for Rayford's phone, and tossed it to him.

"Three unanswered calls," Rayford muttered as they boarded the chopper. "Hope everything's all right in Chicago. When did the calls come?"

"All three about half an hour ago, one right after the other. None showed phone numbers, so I didn't think I should answer for you."

They were strapped in now, but Rayford said, "I'd better check with the safe house."

Tsion answered groggily.

"I'm sorry to wake you, Doctor," Rayford began.

"Oh, Captain Steele, it's no trouble. I only just fell asleep. Chloe's phone, it was ringing and ringing, and she was sound asleep. No one roused; they are so exhausted. I was not able to get to it in time, but when it rang again, this time I hurried and carried it to a quiet place. Rayford, it was Miss Durham!"

"You're sure?"

"Yes, and she sounded desperate. I pleaded with her to tell me where she was and reminded her that we all love her and care about her and are praying for her, but she wanted only to talk to you. She said she had tried your phone, and I told her I would try too. I tried twice to no avail. Anyway, you have her number."

"I'll call her."

"And you'll let me know."

"Tsion, get some rest. You have so much to do, setting up your computer area, teaching Chaim-"

"Oh, Rayford, I am so excited about that that I can barely contain myself. And I have so much to communicate to my audience on the computer. But you must call Miss Durham, and yes, you're right. Unless there is a compelling reason why we should know, you can tell us when you return. Frankly, I expected you by now."

"I miscalculated, Tsion. I can't return until the sky is black. But I am available by phone now."

"And you have connected with your Middle Eastern friend."

"I have."

"And is he all right, Rayford? Forgive me, but he seemed preoccupied."

"Everything's fine here, Doctor."

"He is a new believer too, correct?"

"Yes."

"And he will be staying with us?"

"That's likely."

"Then I will look forward to training him as well."