"That's a long way from Chicago. Wait! Can you get to Greece?"
"When?"
"As soon as possible, even tonight."
"I guess that's up to you. Make my transfer highest priority, and if you want GC here to get me to Greece, they'll have to do it. But David, Greece is a hot spot right now, crawling with GC and making an example of political prisoners. I don't want to work or hide there."
David told her how she would get to the States from Greece, and it would appear GC was escorting her.
"There is a God," she said. "Where do I meet these men?"
"Get to the airport at Kozani. They'll find you."
"Can you get Chang there too? Please, David, do it! Get him out of my parents' quarters, get him assigned somewhere, and have one of your pilots get him to Greece. We can go to the safe house together."
"Ming, please. It has to make sense. I pull a stunt like that, your parents lose track of Chang, and it all comes back to me-not to mention you! You both are sent somewhere and then wind up lost? Think, Ming. I know you're desperate and that you care, but let me work on the logistics. The last thing I want is for the GC spotlight to turn on us."
"I know, David. I understand. I'm thinking with my heart."
"Nothing wrong with that," he said. "Until we quit thinking at all and make things worse."
"We in trouble?" a Greece-based GC Peacekeeping chief at the detention center asked Buck when he saw he was accompanied by a deputy commander. "We do everything by the book."
"This looks like a madhouse, frankly," Buck said, surveying the complex of five rather plain, industrial buildings that had probably once been factories. The windows were covered with bars, and the perimeter was a tangle of fence and razor wire. But the place was crowded with GC in lines, peering at printouts in the night, using flashlights to see where various prisoners were located.
"We do all we can with what we have to work with," the chief said, nervously eyeing Albie.
Buck continued to do the talking. "How many prisoners at this facility?"
"About nine hundred."
"You've got that many GC here."
"Well, not quite, sir."
"What are they all doing? Are they assigned?"
"Most are running the mark center in the middle building."
"What is in the other buildings?"
"Teenagers through early twenties in the first building, males in the west wing, females in the east."
"Individual cells?"
"Hardly. Prisoners are incarcerated in large, common areas that used to be production lines."
"And in the other buildings?"
"Women in the next. None in the center. Men in the last two."
"What are the majority of these people charged with?"
"Mostly felonies, some petty theft, larceny."
"Any violent criminals?"
The chief nodded back over his shoulder. "Murderers, armed robbers, and the like, right there."
"Political prisoners?"
"Mostly in the second building, but religious dissidents, at least the men, are right here too." He motioned to the last building again.
"You've got dissidents in with violent criminals?" Buck said, leaning forward as if to get a better look at the man's nameplate.
"Where they're placed is not my call, sir. I'm coordinating the loyalty mark application. And I need to be in that center building in about five minutes. You want to help- I've got a crew of six moving from building to building, starting with the west, doing preliminary sorting."
"Meaning?"
"Determining whether any plan to refuse the mark."
"And if so?"
"They are to identify themselves immediately. We're not going to waste time letting people wait until they're in line to decide whether they want to live or die."
"What if some change their minds in line?"
"Decide at the last minute they don't want the mark after all? I don't foresee that!"
"But what if they do?"
"We deal with that quickly. But for the most part, we want to know in advance so we don't hold things up. Now, gentlemen, I have orders. Will you help with the culling or not?"
"Will this be going on simultaneously in all the buildings?" Buck asked, not wanting to miss the pastor or Mrs. Miklos.
"No. We're starting in the west building. Prisoners will be escorted to the center building for processing, then back before those in the next building go. And so forth." "We'll help," Buck said.
The chief shouted, "Athenas!" and a stocky, middle-aged Peacekeeper with a one-inch, black crew cut stepped up, three men and two women in uniform behind him. "Ready, Alex?"
"Ready, sir," Alex said, with a high-pitched voice that didn't match his physique.
"Take Jensen and Elbaz here with you." "I have sufficient staff, sir." The chief lowered his head and stared at Athenas. "They're here from USNA, and if you didn't notice, A. A., Mr. Elbaz is a dep-u-ty com-man-der?" "Yes, sir. Would Mr. Elbaz care to lead?" Albie stuck out his lower lip and shook his head.
It was two in the afternoon in Chicago, and the remaining Trib Force members crowded around the television. The local GC news reported that mark applications had begun at local jails and prisons.
Zeke sat rocking before the TV, his hands over his mouth. Rayford asked if Chaim's Jerusalem disguise was ready. Zeke kept his eyes on the screen and took his hands from his mouth only long enough to say, "All but the robe. Done by tonight."
Tsion had come up with the idea of letting Zeke change Chaim's appearance exactly as he had been planning, but also outfitting him in sandals and a thick, brown, hooded robe that extended far enough in front of his face to hide his features. The whole garment would go over his head and the hem would settle an inch off the ground, the waist cinched with a braided rope. Everyone agreed it sounded humble and nondescript, and yet ominous enough once Chaim was seen by crowds as in charge and with something to say.
Chaim was slowly accepting the idea, provided he could playact from the shadows of his garb. "I still say Tsion ought to go."
"Let me promise you, my friend," Tsion said. "Allow God to use you mightily to get his people to safety, and I will come and address them in person sometime."
The TV anchorman announced that while the area GC had not expected to need the loyalty enforcement facilitators, one prisoner had reportedly refused to take the mark and had been executed. "This occurred at what was formerly known as the DuPage County Jail, and execution of the dissident was carried out less than ninety minutes ago. The rebel, serving an indeterminate sentence for black market trafficking of fuel oil, has been identified as fifty-four-year-old Gustav Zuckermandel, formerly of Des Plaines."
Zeke buried his face in his hands and toppled onto his side, where he lay crying quietly. One by one the rest of the Force approached to merely lay a hand on him and cry with him. Tsion, Chaim, Rayford, Leah, and Chloe surrounded him and Tsion prayed.
"Our Father, once again we face the wrenching loss of a loved one. Shower our young brother with hope eternal and remind us all that we will one day see again this brave martyr."
When Tsion finished, Zeke drew a sleeve across his wet face, moved to his hands and knees, and then awkwardly rose.
"You all right, son?" Rayford asked. "Got work to do is all," Zeke said, averting his eyes. And he shuffled back toward his room.
Buck had a bad taste in his mouth. He had been in these situations before, had seen enough depravity and mayhem to last several lifetimes. But he wished he and Albie had brought high-powered automatic weapons so they could at least attempt a rescue. How, in his flesh, he wanted to spray deadly projectiles into the swarming GC. How he would love to have stormed the detention barracks, looking for people with the mark of Christ and ferrying them to safety.
But here was an impossible situation. Prophecy was once again coming to life before his eyes, and he would not be able to turn away. At the west building, the eight members of the culling team were checked in past the outer fence, and then again at the main entrance.