"Tim LaHaye & Jerry Jenkins - Left Behind Series 8 - The Mark" - читать интересную книгу автора (LaHaye Tim)

The top of his head smacked the pavement, the jagged asphalt digging through his
hair to his scalp. He shut his eyes in anticipation of the pain, and white streaks shot
past his eyes. Hands still on his knees, his seat in the air, he slowly, slowly rolled
sideways and crashed onto his hip. He opened his eyes and saw his own blood
trickle past his face, quickly coagulating in a pool on the baked pavement. He tried
to move, to speak. Unconsciousness pursued him, and all he could think of was that
he was next in a long line of victims.
“You want me to fly while you make your call?” Albie said.
“Maybe you'd better,” Rayford said. They switched places as he punched in Hattie's
number. She answered in a hoarse, panicked whisper on the first sound.
“Rayford, where are you?”
“I don't want to say, Hattie. Talk to me. Where are you?”
“Colorado.”
“Specifically.”
“Pueblo, north end, I think.”
“GC has you?”
“Yes. And they're going to send me back to Buffer.” Rayford was silent. “Don't
leave me hanging, Rayford. We go back too far.”
“Hattie, I don't know what to say.”
“What?!”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Come get me! I can't go back to Belgium! I'll die there.”
“What do you expect me to do?”
“The right thing, Ray.”
“In other words, jeopardize my life and expose the Force to—”
Click.
Rayford couldn't tell whether she hung up because he had insulted her or because
she heard someone coming. He told Albie the conversation.
“What are you going to do, my friend?”
Rayford stared at Albie in the emerging light and shook his head. “That woman has
caused us no end of grief.”
“But you care for her. You've told me before.”
“I have?”
“Bits and pieces. Maybe Mac told me.”
“Mac doesn't know her.”
“But he knows you, and you talk, no?”
Rayford nodded. “We know they let her out of Buffer, thinking she—”
“Buffer?”
“Belgium Facility for Female Rehabilitation.”
“Ah, I'd better remember that.”
“Anyway, we know they were hoping she would lead them to us at the gala in
Jerusalem, but she—”
“Excuse me, Rayford, but do you want me to set a course over the old safe house or
just head directly for Palwaukee?”
“Depends on whether I decide to go to Colorado.”
“Your choice, but if I may say so, I expected you to be more decisive. I am just
playacting, yet I appear more of a leader than you are. Your people admire and
respect you—it's obvious.”
“They shouldn't. I—”
“You've reconciled with them, Rayford. They forgave you. Now become their