Free Assassins: Assignment: Jerusalem, Target: Antichrist by Tim Lahaye, Jerry B. Jenkins

himself drifting―until he heard footsteps on the stairs, then a knock at his door.
    “I was showing Leah the cellar,” Chloe said, “where Hattie sleeps. Only she’s not there.”
    “Hattie?”
    “Where could she be? She’s not in the house. Not outside as far as we can see. And, Dad, a lot of her stuff is gone. She took a heavy load.”
    Rayford rose and pulled on his robe again, wondering if he had the energy to deal with yet one more crisis before collapsing. “Check the shed for Ken’s car. Make sure Buck’s is still in the yard. She couldn’t get far on foot. Buck and I can each take a vehicle and start looking for her.”
    “Dad, we have no idea when she left. She might have been gone since the burial. I don’t remember seeing her since, do you?”
    He shook his head. “We can’t let her out of here with all she knows.”
    “Talk about vulnerable. If she got someone to pick her up somewhere, you’ll never catch her.”
    They followed footprints to what had once been the street in front of the house. Now it was just a dirt path strewn with chunks of asphalt and dotted with potholes. She could have headed either direction. Rayford fired up Ken Ritz’s Suburban, and Buck threw dirt from all four wheels on his Land Rover. He sent Buck north and headed south.
    When it became clear Hattie was nowhere in Rayford’s vicinity, he called Buck. “Nothing here either,” Buck said. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this. It’s not like we can report her missing.”
    “I’ve got one other idea,” Rayford said. “I’ll see you back at the house.”
    Rayford called Palwaukee and reached the answering machine. He said, “T, this is Ray. If you’re there, I need you to pick up.” He waited a few moments, then reluctantly dialed Delanty’s personal cell phone. Rayford was greeted with a groggy hello.
    “Sorry, T. Did I wake you?”
    “Of course you did. ‘Sup, Ray? I don’t want this to be an emergency, but if it’s not I’m gonna ask why you called now.”
    Rayford filled him in. “So I was just wondering if Tweedledee and Tweedledum are still kicking around out there.”
    “Ernie and Bo? Haven’t seen Ernie for almost a year.
    “Kind of miss him, even if he was an idiot. I heard he headed west. Beauregard Hanson still hangs around trying to exercise his 5-percent stake in the place. Why?”
    “Just wondering if Hattie might have used him to get somebody to fly her out of there.”
    “I left at six. Had a guy in the tower till nine. We shut down after that.”
    “Any way I can find out if a big plane left there this evening?”
    “Ray, I can’t call a guy at this time of the morning and ask him that.”
    “Why not? I just did.”
    “Yeah, but you were pretty sure I wouldn’t hate you for it.”
    “Don’t you?”
    “I’m not allowed to say. We’re brothers, remember?”
    “Speaking of that, you’re the only ‘brother’ brother I’ve got left, if you catch my meaning.”
    “What?”
    Rayford told him about Doc.
    “Oh, man! I’m sorry, Ray. You don’t suspect Hattie … ?”
    Ray told him Floyd’s own theory on how he contracted the poison. “But still, I’ve got dire reasons to know where she is.”
    “I’ll check the log.”
    “I don’t want you to go out at this hour.”
    “I can do it from here, bro. Just a minute.”
    Rayford heard T’s bed squeak and then computer sounds. He came back on the phone. “I’m scrolling through here. Not much traffic tonight. Mostly small stuff, business planes, couple of GC. Hmm.”
    “What?”
    “There is a unique entry here. Oversized Quantum, that’s like a huge Learjet, different manufacturer, arrived pilot only at 2230. Left 2330 hours with a fuel top-off, no cargo, one unidentified passenger, destination unreported.”
    “That’s all?”
    “Well, we’ve got a column here that asks whether it was paid, charged, or OK’d. This one was OK’d by BH.”
    “I don’t know the specs on the Quantum,” Rayford said. “What