The Left Behind Collection: All 12 Books by Tim Lahaye, Jerry B. Jenkins Page A

secretary, or whatever.”
    “Laugh all you want, Cam. Our guy in the group, Joshua Todd-Cothran, may just not be quite as buttoned-down as the rest.”
    “Todd-Cothran? Doesn’t he run the London Exchange?”
    “That’s the guy.”
    “Not buttoned-down? How could he have that position and not be? Plus, who ever heard of a Brit who was not buttoned-down?”
    “It happens.”
    “Good night, Dirk.”
    Of course, it had all proven correct. The U.N. made its resolution. Buck discovered that Jonathan Stonagal had lived in the Plaza Hotel in New York during the ten days of the confab. Mr. Todd-Cothran of London had been one of the more eloquent speakers, expressing such eagerness to see the matter through that he volunteered to carry the torch back to the prime minister regarding Great Britain moving to the mark from the pound.
    Many Third World countries fought the change, but within a few years the three currencies had swept the globe. Buck had told only Steve Plank of his tip on the U.N. meetings, but he didn’t say where he’d gotten the information, and neither he nor Plank felt it worth a speculative article. “Too risky,” Steve had said. Soon they both wished they had run with it in advance. “You’d have become even more of a legend, Buck.”
    Dirk and Buck had become closer than ever, and it wasn’t unusual for Buck to visit London on short notice. If Dirk had a serious lead, Buck packed and went. His trips had often turned into excursions into countries and climates that surprised him, thus he had packed the emergency gear. Now, it appeared, it was superfluous. He was stuck in Chicago after the most electrifying phenomenon in world history, trying to get to New York.
    Despite the incredible capabilities of his laptop, there was still no substitute for the pocket notebook. Buck scribbled a list of things to do before setting off again:
    Call Ken Ritz, charter pilot
    Call Dad and Jeff
    Call Hattie Durham with news of family
    Call Lucinda Washington about local hotel
    Call Dirk Burton

    The phone awakened Rayford Steele. He had not moved for hours. It was early evening and beginning to get dark. “Hello?” he said, unable to mask the sleepy huskiness in his voice.
    “Captain Steele?” It was the frantic voice of Hattie Durham.
    “Yes, Hattie. Are you all right?”
    “I’ve been trying to reach you for hours! My phone was dead for the longest time, then everything was busy. I thought I was getting a ring on your phone, but you never answered. I don’t know anything about my mother or my sisters. What about you?”
    Rayford sat up, dizzy and disoriented. “I got a message from Chloe,” he said.
    “I knew that,” she said. “You told me at O’Hare. Are your wife and son all right?”
    “No.”
    “No?”
    Rayford was silent. What else was there to say?
    “Do you know anything for sure?” Hattie asked.
    “I’m afraid I do,” he said. “Their bedclothes are here.”
    “Oh, no! Rayford, I’m sorry! Is there anything I can do?”
    “No, thanks.”
    “Do you want some company?”
    “No, thanks.”
    “I’m scared.”
    “So am I, Hattie.”
    “What are you going to do?”
    “Keep trying to get Chloe. Hope she can come home or I can get to her.”
    “Where is she?”
    “Stanford. Palo Alto.”
    “My people are in California, too,” Hattie said. “They’ve got all kinds of trouble out there, even worse than here.”
    “I imagine it’s because of the time difference,” Rayford said. “More people on the roads, that sort of thing.”
    “I’m scared to death of what’s become of my family.”
    “Let me know what you find out, Hattie, OK?”
    “I will, but you were supposed to call me. ’Course my phone was dead, and then I couldn’t get through to you.”
    “I wish I could say I tried to call you, Hattie, but I didn’t. This is hard for me.”
    “Let me know if you need me, Rayford. You know, just someone to talk to or be with.”
    “I will. And you let me know what you