"Tim LaHaye & Jerry Jenkins - Left Behind Series 6 - Assassins" - читать интересную книгу автора (LaHaye Tim)

knew Carpathia was merely a pawn of Satan, really part of God's plan for the ages.
But the man had wreaked such havoc, caused such destruction, fostered such
mourning, that Rayford couldn't help but hate him.
Rayford didn't want to grow numb to the disaster, death, and devastation that had
become commonplace. He wanted to still feel alive, violated, offended. Things were
bad and getting worse, and the chaos multiplied every month. Tsion taught that
things were to come to a head at the halfway point of the seven-year tribulation,
four months from now. And then would come the Great Tribulation.
Rayford longed to survive all seven years to witness the glorious appearing of
Christ to set up his thousand-year reign on earth. But what were the odds? Tsion
taught that, at most, only a quarter of the population left at the Rapture would
survive to the end, and those who did might wish they hadn't.
Rayford tried to pray. Did he think God would answer, give him permission, put the
plot in his mind? He knew better. His scheming was just a way to feel alive, and yet
it ate at him, gave him a reason for breathing.
He had other reasons to live. He loved his daughter and her husband and their baby,
and yet he felt responsible that Chloe had missed the Rapture. The only family he
had left would face the same world he did. What kind of a future was that? He didn't
want to think about it. All he wanted to think about was what weapons he might
have access to and how he could avail himself of them at the right time.


Just after dark in New Babylon, David took a call from his routing manager. “Pilot
wants to know if he's to put down at the strip or at•”
“I told him already! Tell him to do what he's told!”
“Sir, the bill of lading says palace airstrip. But he thought you told him New
Babylon Airport.”
David paused as if angry. “Do you understand what I said?”
“You said airport, but•”
“Thank you! What's his ETA?”
“Thirty minutes to the airport. Forty-five to the strip. Just so I'm clear•”
David hung up and called Mac. Half an hour later they were sitting in the chopper
on the tarmac of the palace airstrip. Of course the computer cargo was not there.
David called the airport. “Tell the pilot where we are!”
“Man,” Mac said, “you've got everybody chasin' their tails.”
“You think I want new computers in front of the world's best techies, all looking to
find the safe house?”
Mac tuned in the airport frequency and heard the instruction for the cargo pilot to
take off and put down at the palace strip. He looked at David. “To the airport,
chopper jockey,” David said.
“We'll pass 'im in the sky.”
“I hope we do.”
They did. David finally had pity on the pilot, assured him he and Mac would stay
put, and instructed him to come back.
A crane helped disgorge the load of computers, and Mac maneuvered the helicopter
into position to hook up to it. The cargo chief attached the cable, assured Mac he
had the size and power to easily transport the load, and instructed him how to lift
off. “You've got an onboard release in case of emergency, sir,” he said, “but you
should have no problem.”
Mac thanked him and caught David's glance. “You wouldn't,” he said, shaking his