It worked out best this way, though, because Hattie would have worn Rayford out during the flight, had he been free to listen. He heard most of it anyway, of course, but he was glad for the busyness of flying so he didn't have to maintain eye contact and match her energy.
He was thrilled beyond words for her and couldn't wait to see the faces of the rest of the Tribulation Force later that evening. More than that, he was happy for the whole Force. More than once, he, and he knew the others too, had given up hope for Hattie.
Albie was too new a believer to counsel her much, but she asked him to tell her again and again about the hunger for the Bible God had seemed to plant in his heart. "I don't know if that's what I have yet," she said, "but I'm sure curious. Do you have a Bible I can read?"
Rayford's was packed away somewhere at the safe house, and Albie said he did not have one. But then he remembered. "I have one on my hard drive!"
"Oh, good," she said, until he fired it up and she discovered it was in his native language. "Now my understanding that would be a miracle!" He tried his decoding conversion software on it, but it didn't support his language.
"Something to look forward to this evening," he said.
"Among other things. You know, Albie, I owe a lot of those people some serious apologies."
"Yes?"
"Oh, yes. I'll hardly know where to begin. If you only knew."
"There was a time," he said, "when I would have been most curious. Captain Steele can attest that there is something in the black marketer akin to a pathological gossip. We are quiet and do not say much, but oh, how we love to listen. But do you know, I would rather not hear of the offenses you may have committed against those who love you so much."
"I don't care to talk about them either."
"You can hope that your new brothers and sisters won't either. A wise man once counseled me that apologies must be specific, but now that I am a believer, I am not sure I agree. If your friends know that you are sorry, deeply remorseful, and that you mean it when you apologize, I expect they will forgive you."
"Without making me rehash everything so they'll know I know what I did?"
Albie cocked his head and appeared to be thinking. "That doesn't sound like a born-again response, as Dr. Ben-Judah would call it. Does it?"
She shook her head. "That would be like rubbing it in."
Rayford's phone rang. The area code was Colorado. "Yeah," he said.
"Ah, Mr. Berry?" It was the unmistakable voice of Steve Plank.
"That's me."
"Are you maintaining my anonymity with the dear departed?"
"I am indeed, Mr. Stephens. I'm assuming we're on a secure connection?"
"Absolutely."
"Then I am happy to tell you that she has come back from the dead, both physically and spiritually."
Silence.
"Did you catch that, Pinkerton?" "I'm speechless, and that's new for me. Are you serious?" "Roger."
"Wow! Better still keep my confidence, but pass along my best and a big welcome to the family." "Will do."
"I have good news for you too. I reported to the brass the unfortunate incident in the detention area, and they said to just dispose of the body and send in the paperwork. I asked 'em where I was supposed to do that- with the body, I mean-and they said they'd just as soon not know. I guess there's more'n enough corpses to deal with everywhere so we luck out on this one." "You know the irony, don't you, Pink?" "Tell me."
"The GC pretended she was dead once too." "I remember that. She must be the woman with nine lives."
"Well, three anyway. And now she has all she needs."
"Amen and roger that. Keep in touch."
When they arrived within airspace of Kankakee, Albie got on the radio to talk to the tower. He identified himself as Commander Elbaz and asked permission to load a body into his chopper for "proper disposition."
"We have no extra personnel to help with that, Commander."
"Just as well. We're not totally sure of the cause of death or any potential contagions."
"It's you and Mr. Berry and the deceased?"
"Roger, and the paperwork has been filed with International."
"Consider yourselves processed. Oh, stand by, Commander. I've been reminded that a shipment has arrived for you from New Babylon."
"A shipment?"
"It's stamped Confidential and Top Secret. About half a skid. I'd say two hundred pounds."
"Can it be delivered to the chopper?"
"We'll see what we can do. If we've got a free man and a forklift, what say we load her for ya?"
"Obliged."
Half an hour later, as Rayford and Albie carried Hattie to the chopper under a sheet, she whispered, "Anyone around?"
"No, but hush," Rayford said.
"I need a new identity. This is really getting old."
"Shut up or I drop you," Albie said.
"You wouldn't."
He pretended to let his end slip, and she cried out. "You two are gonna get us busted," Rayford said.
Once she was loaded, Rayford told her to stay out of sight until they were airborne. He got behind the controls again because he knew the way and Albie had not performed a landing inside a bombed-out skyscraper before.
Before Rayford lifted off, Albie turned and reached over the hidden Hattie and began unfastening the skid and boxes until he found a gross of black spray paint cans. The snapping of plastic fasteners and wrap made Hattie ask, "What in the world are you doing?"
"Just clearing the trapdoor so Rayford can eject you if you don't behave."
A full day had passed in New Babylon, and David felt well enough to leave the hospital. Hannah came to change his dressing. "How are we doing?" she asked, peering into his eyes.
"Nurses all use the collective we, don't they?" "We're trained in it."
"Physically I feel a hundred percent better." "You'll still have to take it easy." "I've got a desk job, Hannah."
"You also have a ton of stuff to do fast. Pace yourself." "I don't feel like doing it anyway." "Do it for Annie." "Touche."
With his new bandage in place, she put her hands gently over his ears. "I wasn't trying to be mean, David. I mean it. I know your heart is broken. But if you wait for that pain to go away before doing what you have to do, it'll be time to get out of here." He nodded miserably.
"You're going to be OK, David," she said. "That sounds trite now, but just knowing you a little makes me certain."
He wasn't so sure, but she was trying to help. "I've been thinking," she added. Uh-oh. "Glad somebody's up to that."
"I knew I wanted to be a nurse when I was a veterinarian's aide in high school."
He raised his eyebrows. "I'm expecting some joke about me as a patient."
"No jokes. It's just that one of the things our office offered was the injection of biochips into pets so they could always be found and identified."
"Yeah?"
"Isn't that what you said the GC is going to do to everybody?"
He nodded.
"And I'm sort of an expert in that, and now you know it."
"Guess I'm still too medicated, Hannah. Spell it out for me."
"Aren't they going to need to train people in how to do this and send experts here and there to supervise it?"
He shrugged. "Probably, sure. What? It looks like a plum job, a way to see the world? You want a letter of recommendation?"
She sighed. "If you weren't hurting, I'd smack you. Give me some credit. You think I'd want to teach people how to apply the mark of the beast? Or that I'd want to watch while they do it? I'm looking for a way we can all get out of here without making it obvious why we left. You want to be among Carpathia's top ten most wanted?"
"No."
"No, so you get in there with Viv Ivins and offer the services of your pilots and even a nurse you know who has some background in this stuff. Get us sent somewhere to get the ball rolling, whatever. You're the one with the creativity. I'm just shooting wild here." "No, keep going. I'm sorry. I'm listening now." "You get us all on the same plane, maybe a big expensive one, because the bigger the lie, the more people want to believe it. Crash it somewhere, like the middle of an ocean, where it would be more trouble than it's worth to confirm we're all dead. We hook up with the rest of your friends, but we're not constantly looking over our shoulders for GC." "I like it."