Stung Page 3

  Judd grabbed a motorcycle and raced to a nearby gas station. “Anybody know where I can get a pizza around here?”

  A girl behind the counter gave him a name and phone number. “It won’t do you any good,” she said. “They don’t deliver to a pay phone.”

  “If you order, would they deliver?” Judd said.

  “They might,” she said coyly.

  Judd pulled out a fifty-dollar bill. “Would this convince you?”

  The girl looked over her glasses and snatched the bill. “You must want a pizza pretty bad.”

  A noisy car chugged into the station thirty-five minutes later. Judd handed the man a fifty, and he stared at it. “I can’t make change for this.”

  “Keep it,” Judd said.

  “You mean it?” the man said.

  Judd jumped on his motorcycle and roared off, holding the pizza tightly. Taylor was only ten minutes from touchdown.

  Judd pulled into the guard station and smiled. “Got a delivery here.”

  The guard eyed Judd warily. “Where’s your sign?”

  “They’re trying to save money,” Judd said as he looked around the guard’s station and whistled. “I’ve never delivered here before. Is this the place where the planes land?”

  “Yeah. Who’s the pizza for?”

  “You control the runway lights in here?”

  The guard leaned close. “Who’s the pizza for?”

  “Sorry,” Judd said. “It’s for Miller. Which house is it?”

  The guard looked at his logbook.

  “Is there a problem?” Judd said.

  The guard picked up a phone. “They’re supposed to tell security when they order. … Yes, Mrs. Miller, this is the front gate.”

  Judd saw a panel of switches for the runway lights on the office wall. He put the pizza down and climbed onto his motorcycle.

  “Ma’am, we have a pizza here. Did you order—”

  Judd sped under the barrier and past the well-manicured shrubbery.

  “Hey, come back here!” the guard yelled.

  Judd rounded the corner and shot through a yard. He hid the bike behind a tree and sprinted into the shadows. Moments later a jeep roared by. Judd ran to the guardhouse. A jet passed overhead.

  An alarm rang, and Judd saw Lionel and Mr. Stein on a small monitor. They crawled over the fence near the runway.

  “Right on time,” Judd muttered. He flipped switches and bolted outside. Judd ran behind houses. Dogs barked. When the plane touched down, he raced toward it. Lionel and Mr. Stein stayed low at the end of the runway. Taylor rolled to a stop and opened the door. Mr. Stein and Lionel scampered aboard and waved for Judd. The engines screamed as Judd jumped into the plane.

  “Everybody buckle in!” Taylor shouted. “We’ve got company.”

  Through the cockpit window Judd saw the jeep coming at them. Taylor swerved left, then right and off the runway to miss the oncoming car. When the jeep passed, Taylor gunned the engine. Within a few seconds they were airborne and heading toward the Middle East.

  4

  JUDD couldn’t sleep. When the plane left Chicago, Mr. Stein sighed with relief. His eyes shimmered with excitement.

  Judd asked Mr. Stein where they would stay in Jerusalem, but he wouldn’t discuss it.

  “I can make us a reservation,” Judd said.

  Mr. Stein held up a hand. “God will provide.”

  Taylor tuned in a Global Community frequency and listened. He had a stolen GC codebook and followed the security forces’ movements.

  “Did you kill anyone getting this plane?” Judd said.

  “Why are you so worried about the GC?” Taylor said. “They’re your enemy.”

  “There’s a chance anybody can turn around,” Judd said. “A lot of GC people were forced into service. Our job is just to give the message.”

  “Well, my job is to stop the GC wherever I can and, ultimately, to kill Nicolae Carpathia.”

  “I wouldn’t advertise that if I were you,” Lionel said.

  “Before I get to him,” Taylor continued, “I’ll probably have to take out other GC posts.”

  Judd shook his head.

  “I know you all want to tell people about Jesus and do good stuff so God will like you and all that. I’ve told you before, if that rings your bell, go ahead. But I’ve seen what the GC does to good people. They’re destroying everything I know and love. They talk peace, but they’re armed to the teeth. They talk freedom, but they send people to prison. Oh, sorry. They call them reeducation camps.”

  “You can’t do it alone,” Judd said.

  “Maybe not,” Taylor said. “But I’m giving them a run for their money.” Taylor eyed Mr. Stein. “Speaking of which, where’s the cash you promised?”

  Mr. Stein opened the duffel bag and produced an envelope filled with large bills. Taylor grinned. “This should keep me going for a while.”

  Judd remembered the letter in his pocket. He handed it to Taylor. “Darrion asked me to give you this.”

  Taylor took it and said, “How’s Conrad?”

  “He’s worried about you,” Lionel said.

  The radio squawked, and a man gave a report about a plane using a private airfield in Illinois. “A local guard on the ground reports seeing a GC insignia on the side of the plane,” the man said. “This may be the stolen jet we’re looking for.”

  “We’re way ahead of them,” Taylor said, opening the letter and checking his watch. “We should be in Tel Aviv in good time.”

  “Why Tel Aviv?” Judd said.

  “This plane needs a new paint job. I’ve lined up somebody to do it.” Taylor read Darrion’s note privately.

  Lionel signaled for Judd. “Do you realize the danger we’re in? This is a stolen airplane, the pilot’s killed several GC personnel, crashed a GC helicopter, and he isn’t finished yet.”

  “I’ve been thinking the same thing,” Judd said.

  Taylor stuffed the letter in his shirt and waved Judd forward. “All right, you guys are taking a chance riding with me. You deserve to know what’s happened.

  “Some people did get killed at the base, but the GC press reported that it was a terrorist attack. It was just me. I wired explosives in the other planes and choppers. They were supposed to explode just after I took off. A couple of guys saw me and scrambled before I could get away. Those were the only two who got killed, I swear.

  “I’m not a killing machine, and I don’t want innocent people to get hurt. But this is a war. I’m going to stop the Global Community, or at least slow them down as much as I can.”

  “You could do a lot more damage to them on our side,” Judd said.

  “You guys are weak,” Taylor said. “These people don’t understand anything but strength. Plus, you don’t have a plan.”

  “Our goal is to change people one at a time,” Lionel said. “From reading the Bible, we know we can’t overthrow the system, but having people on the inside will help.”

  “You do it your way. I’ll do it mine.”

  “Why did you let us come with you?” Judd said.

  “I need the money. Now I have it. This will be my last run with you guys.”

  “What about the return flight?” Mr. Stein said.

  “Never discussed that,” Taylor said.

  “What?!” Judd yelled.

  “Calm down. It’s nothing personal. I’ve got a job to do and I can’t wait in Israel.”

  “I’m through talking to him,” Judd said. He stomped back to his seat and strapped himself in.

  Lionel leaned close to Taylor and said something. The two talked for a few minutes. Then Taylor motioned for them all to sit. “Some turbulence up ahead. Buckle in and get some rest.”

  Vicki kept track of Melinda and tried to make her as comfortable as possible. When Melinda asked about Judd, Vicki hesitated. “I’m not going to lie to you, but I don’t feel I can tell you the truth.”

  “You don’t trust me,” Melinda said.

  Vicki smiled.
“You threatened us. Give it some time.”

  Melinda nodded. “Okay. But if you lie to me and I find out, I’m gone.”

  Conrad came through the door, out of breath and covered with dirt. He glanced at Melinda, then turned to Vicki. “Can I see you a minute? Alone?”

  Vicki excused herself and went outside with Conrad. He led her toward the river to the original site of Felicia’s grave.

  “I got up early to figure this out,” Conrad said. He told Vicki about the stone he had found and Judd’s instructions to dig it up after the burial. “With all the excitement about the trip, we didn’t have time.”

  Vicki climbed into the freshly dug hole. On one side, she saw stones intricately woven together. Conrad had chipped away at the underground wall until one of the stones came loose. Vicki helped work the stone back and forth until it was almost out. Conrad used the end of his shovel, and the stone dropped inside. It fell a few feet with a thunk.

  “It’s hollow in there,” Conrad said. He stuck his head through the opening and peered inside.

  “Don’t do that,” Vicki said. “You don’t know what’s in there.”

  “Maybe it’s some kind of vault,” Conrad said.

  “Why would they put it out here?” Vicki said.

  “I’ll try to get another stone out,” Conrad said. “Get a flashlight.”

  When Vicki returned, Conrad had opened a hole big enough to crawl through. Vicki shone the light into the darkness. There were cobwebs and some debris on the dirt floor, but the room looked clear.

  Conrad crawled through and dropped to the ground. His voice echoed. “It’s at least six feet high. Come on down.”

  Vicki looked at the schoolhouse. No one stirred. Conrad helped her down.

  “This is no vault,” Conrad said. “The thing keeps on going in both directions.”

  Vicki followed as they walked away from the house. The walls of the passage looked ancient, but they were in good shape.

  “Whoever built this sure knew what they were doing,” Conrad said.

  “What if it caves in?” Vicki said.

  Conrad banged the top of the passage with his hand and winced. “It’s solid.”

  The passage dipped downhill as they walked farther. The earthen floor became muddy.

  “Stop!” Vicki said. She put a finger to her lips. “Hear that? It’s water.”

  Conrad kept going. Finally, they came to the end. The flashlight shone on a thick, wooden door with a huge padlock. The lock was rusty. Conrad banged it with the flashlight but it didn’t open.

  “What do you think’s on the other side?” Conrad said.

  “We’ll have to go outside to find out,” Vicki said.

  The two traced their way back to the hole. Conrad picked up an old piece of cloth from the ground and stuffed it in his pocket. Vicki started to climb out, but Conrad tugged at her sleeve. “Let’s see where it goes the other way.”

  The passage led uphill. At times it was so steep Vicki and Conrad had to crawl. They found another door in better shape. However, instead of a padlock, there was only a round door knocker.

  “I’ve seen these in those old horror movies,” Vicki said.

  “Yeah, the castles with all the fog.”

  Conrad pulled on the knocker, but the door didn’t budge. The sound echoed throughout the passage. He knocked a few more times.

  “Guess there’s nobody home,” Conrad said. “Let’s get outta here.”

  They climbed back through the passage and out of the hole. They brushed themselves off. Conrad pointed toward the river. “I’m going to see where it ends.”

  Someone ran from the house. Shelly rounded the corner and spotted Vicki and Conrad. “Come quick!” she shouted. “The house is haunted.”

  “What’s going on?” Vicki said.

  “It’s weird,” Shelly said. “We heard something banging. When we went downstairs, it stopped.”

  Approaching Tel Aviv, Judd woke Lionel. “What did you and Taylor talk about?” Judd said.

  Lionel rubbed his eyes and kept his voice low. “Darrion told me what she wrote in the letter. I figured it had to affect him.”

  “Did it?”

  “He didn’t break down crying, but I could tell she hit a nerve,” Lionel said. “He said he’d do anything he could to help her.”

  “What did she say in the letter?”

  “She thanked him for everything he did for her family. Talked about what happened to her dad just before he died. Then she said if her dad and mom were alive they’d want him to believe in God too.”

  “Pretty powerful,” Judd said.

  Lionel patted Judd on the shoulder. “Keep praying.”

  As the plane touched down on the outskirts of Tel Aviv, that was exactly what Judd was doing.

  Vicki and Conrad followed Shelly back to the schoolhouse. Charlie, who had survived swallowing some of the bitter water, was spooked.

  “I heard the noise. It’s a ghost. I know it,” Charlie said. “It must be a big one, and it must really be mad at somebody ’cause it kept banging.”

  “It’s not a ghost,” Vicki said, putting a hand on Charlie’s arm. “Come on.”

  They filed down the narrow staircase to the musty room under the kitchen. One bare bulb lit the area.

  Melinda followed. Conrad grabbed Vicki’s arm. “What about her?”

  “She’ll find out sooner or later,” Vicki whispered. “Maybe she’ll trust us if we let her see.”

  “It came from over there,” Shelly said, pointing to a stack of wooden pallets.

  The kids moved the pallets to the other side of the room. Spiders and bugs scampered away. Conrad inspected the wall but found no door. He tapped, but the wood was solid.

  “Look at that,” Vicki said.

  On the floor, barely visible under all the dirt and dust, was an old rug, about four feet square.

  “This is interesting,” Conrad said.

  He jerked it away, and everyone coughed. When the dust cleared, Vicki knelt and inspected the floor. As she looked closely, Vicki saw the outline of a trapdoor. Conrad pulled out a pocketknife, but the wood was too heavy to pry open. Mark brought a crowbar and managed to lift it.

  Vicki turned on the flashlight and peered into the darkness. Another set of rickety stairs led to an area about the size of a large bedroom. Vicki climbed down. There were no windows. They were well below ground level.

  In the corner was a table with an oil lamp. A dusty book lay beside it. Vicki brushed it off, and flakes of leather crumbled in her hands. It crackled when she opened it.

  “It’s a Bible!” Vicki said. The pages were so brittle she closed it for fear of tearing them.

  “Look at this,” Conrad said. On the far wall was a door with a padlock that looked exactly like the door at the end of the tunnel. Mark used the crowbar again but couldn’t open the lock. Finally, the hinges gave way, and the kids pushed the door open a few inches.

  “The passage,” Conrad said.

  Vicki explained how she and Conrad had walked the length of the tunnel. “It goes all the way to the river,” she said.

  “What do you think it’s here for?” Shelly said.

  “Somebody must have needed a quick getaway,” Conrad said, “but why would a school—”

  Phoenix barked. The kids stared at one another. Mark ran up the stairs. Vicki heard a rumbling. Pieces from the leather Bible danced on the table in front of her.

  Mark stuck his head back into the room and whispered, “Somebody’s coming.”

  5

  “DON’T panic!” Vicki said. “They won’t find us down here.”

  “I’ll look through the hole in the tunnel and see who it is,” Conrad said.

  “Whoever it is, they sure are big,” Charlie said. “Listen!”

  The earth rumbled. Mark looked hard at Melinda. “Did you tip somebody?”

  Melinda scowled. She looked at Vicki. “Is that what you think?”

  “Tell us,” Vicki said. “We n
eed to know now.”

  Conrad returned, out of breath. “I can see a GC insignia on the side of the truck! I’m going back.”

  Melinda walked to the other side of the room, her head down.

  Mark closed the doors leading to the basement and gently brought the trapdoor down on the secret passage. The rumbling increased.

  Minutes passed. Finally, Vicki whispered, “Where’s Conrad?”

  Mark put a finger to his lips. His eyes darted. Footsteps above them. Doors opening. Voices.

  “How could they have found us so fast?” Vicki said.

  “Quick,” Mark said, “everybody into the tunnel.”

  But it was too late. Vicki looked back and saw the trapdoor swing open.

  The airstrip in Tel Aviv was a narrow lane of newly poured concrete. A woman in a brown jumpsuit approached and waved Taylor to a metal building. When they were inside the hangar, Taylor got out and hugged the woman.

  “These are my friends,” Taylor said, introducing Mr. Stein, Lionel, and Judd.

  The woman was slender with dark hair and deep brown eyes. “Hasina Kamen,” she said, extending a hand to each of them. She pushed a button and closed the hangar.

  “I suppose you are all tired and hungry,” Hasina said. She had a heavy Arabic accent, but she spoke English well. She led them into a conference area, where a tray of food was waiting.

  “Is this who will paint your plane?” Mr. Stein said as he grabbed some pita bread and sauce.

  “Hasina knows her stuff,” Taylor said. “Max Stahley and I were working on a case in the Middle East when we met. I tried to get her to marry me.”

  Hasina blushed. “That is not the way I remember it.”

  Taylor laughed. “You can trust her with your life, which is what we’re doing. Her dad was—”

  Hasina held up a hand and asked Mr. Stein, “Why have you come to Tel Aviv with such a dangerous man?”

  Mr. Stein explained that they were attending the Meeting of the Witnesses in Jerusalem. Hasina nodded. “There are many who have come in the last few days. Thousands. Do you consider yourselves followers of the rabbi?”

  “Yes,” Mr. Stein said. “Both Rabbi Ben-Judah and the rabbi named Jesus.”