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volume. The video identified the one on the left as Eli, and subtitles carried
his message in English. He was saying,  Beware, men of Jerusalem! You have now
been without the waters of heaven since the signing of the evil pact. Continue
to blaspheme the name of Jesus Christ, the
Lord and Savior, and you will continue to see your land parched and your
throats dry. To reject Jesus as Messiah is to spit in the face of almighty
God. He will not be mocked.
 Woe unto him who sits on the throne of this earth. Should he dare stand in
the way of God's sealed and anointed witnesses, twelve thousand from each of
the twelve
tribes making a pilgrimage here for the purpose of preparation, he shall
surely suffer for it.
Here Moishe took over.  Yea, any attempt to impede the moving of God among the
sealed will cause your plants to wither and die, rain to remain in the clouds,
and your water all of it to turn to blood! The Lord of hosts hath sworn,
saying, 'Surely, as I have thought, so it shall come to pass, and as I have
purposed, so it shall stand!'
Rayford wanted to shout. He hoped Buck and Tsion were watching this. The two
witnesses warned Carpathia to stay away from those among the 144,000 coming to
Israel for inspiration. No wonder Nicolae had been seething. Surely he saw
himself as the one who sits on the throne of the earth.
Rayford appreciated that Mac did not try to dissuade him from his mission. He
had never been more determined to finish a task. He and Mac latched their gear
to the struts for the short hop from New Babylon to the Tigris. Rayford
strapped himself in and pointed toward Baghdad. By the time they landed, the
sky was dark,  You don't have to do this with me, you know, Rayford said.  No
hard feelings if you just want to keep an eye out for me.
 Not a chance, brother. I'll be right there with you.
They unloaded at a steep bank. Rayford stripped down, pulled on his wet suit
and booties, and stretched the rubber cap over his head. Had the suit been any
smaller, it would not have worked.  Did I get yours? he asked.
 Albie says one size fits all.
 Terrific.
When they were completely outfitted with eighty-cubic-foot tanks, buoyancy
control devices (BCDs), weight belts, and fins, they fog-proofed their masks
with spit and pulled them on.
 I believe in my heart she's not down there, Rayford said.
 I know, Mac said.
They inspected each other's gear, inflated their BCDs, stuffed in their
mouthpieces, then slid down the sandy bank into the cold, rushing water, and
slipped beneath the surface.
Rayford had only guessed where the 747 dropped into the river. While he agreed
with Pan-Con officials who told Carpathia the plane was too heavy to have been
affected much by the current, he believed it could have gone dozens of feet
downstream before embedding itself in the bottom. Because no vestige of the
plane had ever surfaced, Rayford was convinced the fuselage had holes front
and back.
That would have resulted in the plane hitting the bottom rather than being
held aloft by air pockets.
The water was murky. Rayford was a good diver, but he was still claustrophobic
when unable to see more than a few feet, even with the powerful light strapped
to his wrist. It seemed to shine no more than ten feet in front of him. Mac's
was even dimmer and suddenly disappeared.
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Did Mac have bad equipment, or had he turned his off for some reason? It made
no sense. The last thing Rayford wanted was to lose sight of his partner. They
could spend too much time searching for the wreckage and have little time to
investigate it.
Rayford watched clouds of sand shoot past and realized what had happened. Mac
had been pulled downstream. He was far enough ahead that neither could see the
other's light.
Rayford tried to steer himself. It only made sense that the lower he went, the
less the current would pull him. He let more air out of his BCD and kicked
harder to dive, peeling his eyes to see past the end of his beam. Ahead a dim,
blinking light appeared stationary. How could Mac have stopped?
As the blinking beam grew larger and stronger, Rayford kicked hard, laboring
to align himself with Mac's light. He was coming fast when the top of his head
smacked violently into Mac's tank. Mac hooked Rayford's elbow in the crook of
his own arm and held firm. Mac had snagged a tree root. His mask was half off
and his regulator mouthpiece was out. With one arm holding Rayford and the
other gripping the root, he wasn't free to help himself.
Rayford grabbed the root, allowing Mac to let go of him. Mac reinserted his
regulator and cleared his mask. Dangling in the current, each with a hand on
the root, they were unable to communicate. Rayford felt the spot on his head
where he had banged into Mac's tank. A flap of rubber rose from his cap; a [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]