Father Raphael lay on his bunk. He was ready to die if he had to, but he so hated to leave this world with so much work left undone. “God in Heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, Lord, but deliver me from this evil place.”
Two Englishmen burst into his cell. One grabbed his hand. “Quick, this way.”
They escaped the compound undetect-ed and drove through Communist China until they arrived at a cottage in one of the villages.
“You should be safe here,” said the man called Denny.
They lead him inside a bamboo hut.
Denny’s friend said, “Thanks to our benefactor, you can use this house. Here are new identity papers. In addition, you have plenty to live on and support your mission.”
“Thank you. I shall work as long as God gives me strength.”
“He’s as secure as a bug in a rug. We did a good thing, I’d say.”
“Good work, Denny. I’ll have the money transferred tomorrow. Later.”
Marcos hung up the payphone.
He sighed. “Why don’t I feel any better?”
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