Left Behind Series - The Remnant Part 43

"Come on, Wong! Whoever these people are, they're up to no good.

If they were loyal citizens, wouldn't they say, "Hey, we didn't know this place was off limits and we mistakenly settled here, and you know what, we're okay'? "

Chang shrugged, wanting to know how much time he had to warn the Trib Force but not daring to ask. "I guess."

"You guess? There's no record of a loyalty mark application site there, of course. And n.o.body who's registered with us would live there without telling us."

"You're right."

"'Course I'm right. Hey, Chang, you don't look so good."

Chang had been surrept.i.tiously holding his breath and not blinking. His face had reddened and his eyes watered. "Just tired," he said, exhaling finally. "And I think I'm coming down with something."

"You all right?"

Chang coughed, then pretended he couldn't stop. He held up a hand as if to apologize and say he was okay. "Didn't sleep that well last night," he managed. "I'll be fine. I'll go to bed early tonight."

"You need a nap?"

"Nah. Too much to do."

"we're okay. Take a break."

"I couldn't."

"why not?"

"want to do my share, pull my weight, all that." He disintegrated into a coughing spell again.

"Just knock off early. You've got sick time left, don't you?"

"Just used some during the, you know, plague thing."

"Boils? Yeah, didn't we all? Take the rest of the day off, and if you're not in tomorrow, I'll understand."

"No, now really, Mr. Figueroa, I'll be fine. See? I feel better already."

"what is it with you, Wong? I mean, I'm all for gungho, but " "Just don't like being a wimp."

"You're anything but that."

"Thanks," Chang said, covering his mouth and coughing longer than he had before.

"Stop by Medical and get something."

Chang waved Figueroa off. "I'm going back to my desk," he wheezed.

"No, you're not. Now that's a directive."

"You're making me leave work early?"

"Come on! You think I'm thinking only of you? Get over yourself.

I don't want a department full of coughers, and I think you've contaminated my office enough too. Get going."

"I really "

"Chang! Go!" It was the crack of dawn in Colorado, and Steve Plank, aka Pinkerton Stephens, was asleep in his quarters. He had spent until midnight firing off warnings to his friends in the Tribulation Force that something big was coming for Chicago and that if they knew what was good for them, they would escape, and fast. He had reached Rayf ord Steele by phone in Petra and urged him to stay there and not let Abdullah Smith or anyone else go back to Chicago either.

When the insistent banging on his door woke him, his first thought was that in his haste he had not used a secure phone or that his computer had been bugged. If they caught him, they caught him. Warning the Trib Force was the most productive thing he'd done since becoming a believer or at least since helping them get Hattie Durham out of his custody and to a place where she became a believer.

Plank tried to call out to see who it was and what they wanted, but his facial appliance was next to the bed, and without it, he could not make himself heard. The best he could do was grunt, and he felt for the plastic pieces in the dark.

"Mr. Stephens, sir, no need to open the door." It was easily Medvedev, Steve's second in command. "I just wanted to give you fair warning. New Babylon is cracking down on the handful of employees around the world who have not yet received the loyalty mark. You're expected to have yours applied by noon mountain time at Carpathia Resurrection Field. Just acknowledge that you got that."

Steve slung himself into his motorized wheelchair and rolled to the door, then tapped twice on it.

"Thank you, sir. This puts me in an awkward spot, but I've been ordered to accompany you and see to it."

Steve rolled back to the bed stand and quickly snapped on his appliances. "Hold on a second, easily! " He opened the door and waved him in.

"I'm sorry, sir," the Russian said. "What could I do or say?"

"Tell them I already have it."

"There's no record of it."

"You know it cannot be applied to synthetic. You want to see it?" Plank began to unsnap the forehead piece.

"No! Please! Now, sir, I'm sorry, but I tried looking once, and that was more than enough. Forgive me."

"well, I'm going to see if the administrator of the marks wants a look," Steve said.

"Come, sir, there'd be a record, wouldn't there?"

"I should be exempted. Can you imagine the pain of having it applied to the membrane "

"Please! I was told to inform you and to "

"See to it, yeah, I know."

"Sir? Why don't you just have it applied to your hand? "

"My hand? My hand, you say? You forget my hand was also donated to the cause?"

Steve held up the stub, and Vasily recoiled. "I am so stupid," he said. "Can you forget I "

Steve waved him off. "Don't worry about it."

"When would you like to leave, sir? They open at eight and we're about an hour away."