Thunder of Heaven by Tim LaHaye

Author:Tim LaHaye
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Thriller, Fiction
ISBN: 9780310326373
Publisher: Zondervan
Published: 2011-05-09T22:00:00+00:00

FORTY-THREE

Tehran, Iran

Joshua cried out. Somewhere in his numbness and confusion he felt searing pain. He couldn’t locate it at first. His body was not on the ground. He thought he was flying … no … that wasn’t it. I’m hanging.

Joshua Jordan struggled to see where he was. As he did, he located the source of his torturing pain. In each of his shoulders. They were pinned behind him, in hog-tie fashion. He was hanging from a wall. The tips of his feet were barely touching the concrete floor. His chest had been stripped bare, and his shoes and socks were off.

He blinked and shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs. Think back, think back. What happened …?

It started coming back.

He had been climbing into the Jeep with Colonel Kinney. The other members of the IDF team had already left the testing site. He remembered seeing the dust from their trucks ahead.

Then, from somewhere behind them, an Israeli Apache helicopter came swooping down. It landed fifty feet away. A man wearing an IDF uniform came striding out with two other soldiers. He said, “Colonel Jordan, urgent message …”

The man in the IDF uniform held out a piece of paper. Joshua climbed out of the Jeep as Kinney yelled to him to stop. Then, one of the soldiers dropped to a kneeling position, close enough that Joshua could see the soldier was aiming a strange-looking handgun at him. Joshua turned back to the Jeep. Then something struck Joshua in the back of the thigh. He grasped for it. A dart protruded from his skin. He tried to run, but the dizziness stopped him. He dragged his feet as if they were cinder blocks. Gunshots, a lot of them, were being fired. He saw Clint Kinney firing back fiercely from the ground next to the Jeep, and then Kinney was hit and went down. Joshua fell into the vehicle and found the other handgun with the clip already in. He turned clumsily and started firing toward the helicopter, emptying the clip. Someone yelped in pain. But Joshua couldn’t hold on. The pistol dropped from his hand. He was blacking out. The last thing he remembered was a bearded man bending over him and laughing.

Now Joshua was in a concrete room hanging from a hook. There was enough light for him to get an idea of where he was. There was a drain in the middle of the floor. And blood stains. This place of cruelty had been used recently.

Then he heard voices outside. One guy asked, “Hale shoma chetor ast?” Another man answered something about being okay, but his wife was sick. They were making small talk. Joshua recognized the language. Persian Farsi, the language of Iran. Years before, when he’d been running spy plane flyovers to document Iran’s nuclear facilities, the Pentagon had taught him some Farsi in case he was shot down and captured.

That never happened, though there was a story behind that too. Although Josh was feeling light-headed and

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