“That’s fine. I understand.”
“Then there’s the Tribulation. Most people, they’re not ready to believe that this is the end, that there’s only seven more years left of this world. And so many people aren’t going to last that long.” Delroy looked at her. “I feel like I’m supposed to be part of this—part of whatever it is, whatever it takes to save what we can of the folks who just don’t know what’s going on.”
“I know. I heard you speak yesterday. I heard your message. It made me think a lot of your daddy. And when I saw you with Clarence Floyd? How you brought even him to Jesus like you did?” Glenda reached out and stroked his face. “You’re ready, Delroy. You’re a warrior, and this is going to be your fight.” She frowned a little. “I’ll worry about you, and I’ll pray for you, and I’ll miss you. But I want you to know that I’m going to wait on you. Till you get back home or we are together again in the hereafter. Whatever it takes.”
Delroy captured Glenda’s hand in his, seeing how small hers was against his. He kissed her fingers and said, “Thank you.” There was nothing else to say. Their hearts knew each other—always had, and always would.
United States of America
Fort Benning, Georgia
Local Time 2223 Hours
“I found her,” Doug Benbow said on the other end of the phone line.
“Where is she?” Megan juggled her cell phone and the sack of groceries she’d just bought in the commissary to take home to Camp Gander. She crossed the packed parking lot to Goose’s pickup truck.
“Saint Francis Hospital,” Benbow said.
“They have phones there,” Megan pointed out. “She could have called.”
“Megan, I know. I tried to put a call through to her father’s room, but nobody answers.”
“Did you call the floor nurse?”
“Yeah. She says that a young woman who fits Jenny’s description is there.”
“Did you try to get her to give Jenny a message? Let her know we’ve been trying to get in touch with her and that we care?” Megan knew she sounded tired.
Yesterday’s trial had taken nearly everything out of her. Then returning to Camp Gander without Jenny’s help, the additional worrying about Jenny, and fending off media people who wanted to interview the woman who seemed to have set the military on its ear by inspiring them to come forward and declare that there is a God had stranded Megan in a world that seemed too fuzzy and too far away to be real.
“Don’t you think sending the nurse in there is a little invasive?” Benbow asked.
“You’re right,” Megan said. “I can swing by there in twenty minutes and check on her myself. I’ll feel better if I can see her.” She dug her keys out of her purse. “Did you find out about her dad?”
“Traffic accident. He was drinking. One-car accident.” Benbow hesitated. “The nurse I talked to and convinced that I was a family member told me they don’t think he’s going to pull through.”
Megan felt horrible. In spite of everything yesterday, things were still going wrong. She didn’t know if she would be allowed to continue her job as counselor for the teens. For the moment she was still providing room and board for many of them, but she was afraid General Braddock would try to phase her out. She didn’t know what she would do if that happened.
“You’re going out there?” Benbow asked.
“Yes.”
“Tonight?”
“Right now.”
“Want company?”
“This might be more girl time, Doug. No offense.”
“Oh, none taken. Trust me. I can use the sleep. Call me if you need anything. Or if Jenny needs anything.”
Megan said she would, then punched End on the cell phone. Only when she was standing beside Goose’s pickup did she realize the passenger-side window was broken out. She started to back away.
Then Joey poked his head out of the shadows. He was scared and his face was horribly bruised. “Mom,” he said in a quavering voice. “I’m in trouble. I’m in real trouble.”
United States 75th Army Rangers Temporary Post
Sanliurfa, Turkey
Local Time 0623 Hours
Goose stood in front of the foggy mirror in the gym the Rangers used for showers. Few buildings had working power in the city now. He stood with a towel around his hips and used a bar of soap to make a lather, then smeared it across his face. He took another towel and wiped the fog from the mirror.
Captain Cal Remington stood behind Goose.
Turning, Goose snapped to attention and saluted. “Sir.”
“As you were, Goose,” Remington said. “It’s too early in the morning for the dog-and-pony show.”
“Yes, sir.”
Remington made a show of examining the small razor nicks on Goose’s neck. “Are you shaving or attempting suicide here, First Sergeant?”
“Shaving, sir. Haven’t been able to get a new blade for a few days. And I like a close shave.”
“Remind me and I’ll give you some out of my personal kit.”
“Yes, sir,” Goose said, though he would never ask and they both knew that. But more than likely, Remington would remember and give the blades to him. Goose scraped at the lather with the dull blade and immediately opened up a cut on his chin.
“Those nicks are going to show up on the television cameras,” Remington said.
“I don’t plan on doing any interviews.”
Remington crossed his arms over his chest. “The last couple days, you seem to have done a number of them.”
Goose met Remington’s gaze full measure in his reflection in the mirror. In a way it was almost like looking back at himself. “I haven’t intended to, sir. Your open-arms policy with the media has brought a lot of them my way. If you want, I can start avoiding them or sending them away.”
“No.” Remington looked like he’d swallowed something unpleasant.
Goose knew that Remington couldn’t
