CHAPTER 12
Richard was shoving all his clothes into a suitcase. Rage surged in his heart. He couldn’t take one more day of this! If Christina wanted to be a religious freak, fine! Let her! He would have no part of it! He didn't even bother to fold his clothes as he stuffed them in. No way! He wasn't going to stay here a moment...
A piercing scream from outside filled his mind. Christina! his mind exclaimed. All anger melted away as he charged down the stairs. Christina! She’d gone outside! It was dangerous out there, really dangerous, and he’d just let his wife go out there all alone!
His only thoughts were for Christina's safety. His feet barely touched the floor as he crossed the living room and rushed toward the front door. His momentum nearly ripped the door off its hinges as he threw it open, not even slowing. "Christina!" he hollered.
No sooner did he leap through the front door onto the porch than he saw the problem. Christina was being pinned against a tree by a man with a gun!
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Christina stared into the cold green eyes of the mugger. His eyes were as cold as steel as he glared at her. His hair was brown and wavy, and he wore a black leather jacket. The gun felt cold on her forehead, as he pressed it against her, forcing the back of her head against the trunk’s rough bark.
“No more noise,” he hissed. “Or I'll kill you.” He squeezed her upper arm so tightly she winced in pain.
Christina bit her lip. O.K., so that scream had been a mistake. The look in the man’s eyes told her that he fully intended to murder her anyway. Unless God saved her, she was as good as dead. She wasn’t sure what to do, so she did the first thing that came to her mind. She prayed silently.
Dear God, save me!
___________________________________
Richard froze. Christina was in danger! Whoever that man was, he intended to kill her! "Not again," he whispered. "Not again!" He gulped.
I’ve got to do something, fast! Or she’s going to die! He gulped. The only woman he’d ever loved was going to be murdered if he didn’t do something immediately. I’ve got to save her! If I don’t--! He gulped. He couldn’t bear for Christina to suffer the same fate as Nicole.
But what could he do? The guy had a gun! Any move on Richard’s part could be disastrous. He couldn’t think; his mind clicked into slow motion. He cursed silently as the sunlight forced him to squint. If only the sunshine wasn’t so bright!
A guttural laugh escaped from the man’s throat. “This your wife?” He cocked his revolver as he spoke. “Well, she’s going to die--right now!” Christina bit her lip as he pressed the revolver against her temple.
Richard dropped to his knees on the sidewalk, clutching the gate with one hand. “Dear God,” he whispered, his eyes filling with tears of fear. “Oh, God, please, please, save her! Help her!” He couldn’t look away, he couldn't even blink. He was completely paralyzed with terror. All he could do was stare and whisper, “Oh, God, help her; dear God, please help her. Please save her life! Don't let her die!”
Andrew and Gloria smiled and nodded; they had overheard Richard’s whispered prayer. In that instant, they received their instructions from the Father. They exchanged glances: now was the time for action.
Gloria stepped forward, now visible to the human eye. For less than a second she glanced back at Andrew, who said softly, “I'll step in if you need me.” She nodded, then turned back to face the scene before her.
“Stop!” she shouted.
The startled mugger whirled toward Gloria. Richard slumped against the gate with relief. Someone had stopped the would-be killer! Christina was, at least temporarily, safe.
Suddenly, his mind registered the rest of what was happening. It was Christina’s new friend, Gloria! And the man with the gun was pointing the gun straight at her. “Oh yeah?!” he sneered. “And who’s gonna make me?” A smirk appeared in his narrow green eyes.
Gloria took a step forward. Richard gripped the paint-covered porch column; a paint chip flicked onto his fingers. He still couldn’t move--dare he move? What would he do if he did? For now, all he could do was stand there, watching in horror as his wife’s closest friend tried to play heroine. Gloria--be careful! That man has a gun! he wanted to shout.
The mugger raised his gun and fired two shots. Richard couldn’t help it. He cried out, he didn’t think, all he knew was that Gloria had been trying to save his wife...and...and...the rest of the thought didn’t process, because what he saw was too unbelievable to be true.
For some odd reason, Christina wasn’t afraid. She knew she should be, but from the second she had started praying, an overwhelming peace had soothed and calmed her. If it was her time to go, God would give her the strength to go through it. That peace had become stronger when Gloria had arrived. Christina had flinched at the gunshot, but she had known it wouldn’t hurt Gloria. Another emotion registered in her mind as she saw what was happening now.
Gloria stood there, the same expression on her face as before. But she had been joined by Andrew. A glowing light now illuminated them both. As the mugger gaped at them, the hand holding the gun dropped to his side. His shoes clumped on the pavement as he fled down the sidewalk and across the street.
A joyful smile spread across Christina’s face. God had saved her life! He’d sent angels to protect her! That had never happened to her before in her life. Her eyes filled up with grateful tears. Thank You, God! she praised silently.
Andrew approached Christina, followed by Gloria. “Are you all right?” Leaning against the tree, Christina smiled and nodded. She took a deep breath as she wiped her face with the back of her hand.
Andrew turned toward Richard. As he and Gloria approached the pilot, Tess and Monica joined them, all of whom shone not with the reflected light of the sun’s rays, but with the same Heavenly glow that bathed Andrew and Gloria. Andrew now wore a beige suit, and Tess, Monica, and Gloria wore flowing white gowns. Richard stared at them all, then gaped at his first officer, disbelief in his eyes. Christina hurried toward them, beaming, stopping in front of the porch steps. She gazed up at her husband, clasping her hands. Please, God, reach his heart! Please!
Richard shook his head. “I must be losing my mind. This is a hallucination.” He rubbed his face with both hands.
Andrew smiled. “No, Richard, this is quite real.” Richard dropped his hands as Andrew spoke. “We are angels, Gloria and me, sent by God. So is Monica, here, who worked on your plane for such a brief time. And Tess.”
Richard gaped at Andrew in shock. “You--my--my first officer--are an angel?” He gaped at Tess. "I remember you--your name is Tess! You gave me a lift home, the day of the disappearances. You ate with us a few nights ago, too. Are you an angel, too?"
Tess nodded. “Indeed, I am, Richard Daly. And so is Andrew, here. God has assigned angels to you, to Christina, and to Ryan Whittaker, because He knew the three of you would need Him desperately in the days and years to come.”
Richard, who had backed against the front door when Gloria and Andrew appeared, slowly approached the steps, shock still etched on his face. “Why is that? Does it--does it have anything to do with the disappearances?”
“It has everything to do with the disappearances,” Monica said softly. “God has evacuated His church to Heaven, along with every baby and small child. He has resurrected everyone who died, who knew Him in life, as well as every child who died before reaching the age of accountability.” She paused. “And the reason He did, Richard, is because the world is about to enter an extremely dangerous time in its existence. It will be the most dangerous period that man has ever faced. The Bible calls it the Tribulation.”
Richard rubbed his forehead. Timothy’s words came back to him. “Are you saying there’s going to be a one-world government? With one man ruling the whole world?”
“Indeed, there will be,” Andrew said. “Antonio Puccini is that man. He will be assisted by a religious leader whom the Bible calls the False Prophet, and--temporarily--by another religious leader who'll be the head of a one-world religion.” He paused. “When Puccini signs a seven-year treaty with Israel, the Tribulation will officially begin. It will last until Jesus returns to Earth to set up His kingdom.”
Clasping her hands together, Tess nodded agreement. “God sent Timothy Hill into your life, Richard, because He wanted to spare you this turbulent time. Timothy heeded the call that God had placed upon the nation and the world when the events of September 11th happened, but you did not. Had you accepted the Lord into your heart before the Rapture, you would have been caught up to Heaven and spared what’s to come. But you are still here, and so is your wife, and now you must make some life-and-death decisions, so your souls will survive to the Glorious Appearing of the Lord. Christina and Ryan have already made those decisions. It’s your turn now.”
Monica nodded. “Richard, God has a personal message for you,” she said softly. “Your sister, Nicole, has been safe in His arms ever since she was murdered years ago. You may never understand why she was taken from you and your family, and in such a cruel way. But you can know that she has been with the Father from that time until now. And furthermore, she has been given a brand-new body. When the Lord resurrected all the dead believers, He gave them new bodies. Including Nicole.”
Richard took a deep breath, and trudged down the steps. He clasped his wife against his chest for a long moment with trembling hands, kissing her. “Christina, I owe you an apology,” he mumbled.
“I forgive you,” Christina whispered. “I love you, honey.” She gazed at him as a quizzical expression appeared on her face. "What did Monica mean about Nicole? Who is she?"
"She was my sister. I'll tell you the rest later," he murmured. He was not looking forward to telling Christina about that part of his past, but he knew it was long past time she knew. Turning her loose, he turned toward Andrew. “Andrew, tell me. What’s going to happen? And what does God want me to do?” He looked from angel to angel.
Gloria cleared her throat. “There will be a world government soon, and Puccini will run it, with the help of the False Prophet. It will be based in Europe. And for the first three-and-a-half years of the Tribulation, the pope will be the head of a worldwide religion that will deceive people. It will keep them from turning to the true God and rob them of their souls.”
She paused to adjust her glasses. “There will be three and a half years of world peace. Puccini and Israel will sign a treaty guaranteeing Israel’s safety from the Arab world and her right to rebuild the Temple. Israel will do just that, and sacrifices will once more be offered there. And during that time, Richard, two men--lampstands and olive trees, they’re called in Revelation--will preach to the Israelis and warn them against the new government. They will be--and are--Moses and Elijah, returned to earth; they started their mission just recently. They have the power to turn water to blood and to keep rain from falling, and anyone who tries to harm them will be killed. At the middle of the seven-year period, Puccini will destroy the worldwide religion. Also, Moses and Elijah will be killed by Puccini’s men, only to rise again three days later. When they do, they will rise to Heaven.”
Tess nodded. “Then Puccini will suffer a mortal head wound, only to be 'resurrected' a short time later. When that happens, he will be personally indwelt by Satan himself. Puccini will then enter the temple and force the priests to stop offering sacrifices. He will set up an idol and proclaim himself as God." She paused. "When that happens, many of the Israeli Jews will see him as the impostor he is, and they will flee to Petra, where they will stay until Jesus returns, three and a half years later. Puccini will seek to have them killed, but he will fail.”
Andrew took it from there. “Very shortly after Puccini commits that act--the Bible calls it the ‘abomination of desolation’--war will break out in the Middle East. It will last for the duration of the seven-year period, and will become nuclear. The consequences will be so bad that if Jesus didn’t come, the earth would be totally destroyed and mankind would be wiped out. But He will come, and He will inaugurate His kingdom, which will last a thousand years. Every believer who dies during the Tribulation will be resurrected, and every believer who survives the Tribulation will enter the thousand-year Kingdom as a mortal believer.”
“And the believers who were caught up in the Rapture will return with Jesus and help Him rule the kingdom,” Monica added. “They will not be able to marry and have children, but they will have important positions of leadership. And so will the believers who are resurrected at the end of the Tribulation.” She turned to Christina. “These new leaders will include your mother and Jessica.” Christina nodded, smiling.
Richard shook his head, wincing. “How--how many of the believers will survive the Tri--Tribulation? What percentage?”
A sad look creased Andrew’s face. “Only a minority,” he said. “The Bible predicts that a multitude too great to be numbered will be martyred for their faith by the new world government. First the new world religion will persecute believers, then Puccini will.”
He paused. “You see, Richard, Puccini will set up a system forcing people to accept what the Bible calls a mark in their forehead or their right hand. It will be a computer implant imbedded in the skin, implanted by an injection. Those who don’t accept it will not be able to buy, sell, or hold jobs. Before that day comes, the world will be placed on a computerized cashless system--all buying and selling will be done by computer. Also, the whole world will be placed under a single currency--the Euro. The nations are getting ready to set those things up now. Those who receive the implant will be required to worship Puccini as God and to reject all other gods, including the true One.”
Deep sadness welled in his eyes. “It will be an unpardonable sin to receive the implant--those who do will be separated forever from the true God. They will never see Heaven.” Christina shuddered, and Richard bit his lower lip.
Andrew paused. “Puccini will make it a capital offense to refuse the implant--those who do so will be executed, most likely by guillotine. No true believer can accept the mark, so the vast majority of Tribulation believers will die martyrs’ deaths for refusing to take it. A minority, however, will survive to enter the Kingdom in their mortal bodies. Whether you, Christina, and Ryan will be among that number, Richard, only the Father knows. But whether you survive to see His coming or accept death as a martyr, you will be part of the Kingdom if you accept Jesus and refuse the mark. Those who die will receive new bodies and return to earth with the others.”
The angel of death shook his head. “Unfortunately, the vast majority of people will believe a delusion, and refuse to accept God and let Him save them. They will accept the implant, and lose all hope of Heaven. That will break God’s heart, as you can imagine. He wants all men and women to come to Him, not condemn themselves to Hell.”
“That is what God wants me to do?” Richard’s voice sounded choked. “To come to Him?”
“Yes,” Monica said gently. “Accept His love. Trust Him to protect you and your loved ones. Call on Him for the strength and the courage you will need in the days to come. And--” She looked from Richard to Christina and back again. “--pray for Ryan and ask God to protect him, because he’s in a very dangerous situation. He knows the truth now and He’s accepted God’s love, and he knows, now, that Puccini is the Antichrist. But he works for Puccini as his private pilot, so he needs God to protect him and guide him as never before.”
Richard and Christina looked at each other. “We will,” Richard promised. He bowed his head to pray. “Lord Jesus, come into my heart,” he said softly. “Forgive my stubborn pride, my refusal to believe You. Cleanse me of my sins and heal my pain. Amen.”
His eyes shone when he lifted his head. Squealing with joy, Christina wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thank You, God,” she whispered, gazing up at the cloudless sky. “Thank You!” She hugged him tightly.
Andrew approached them, beaming. “The angels in Heaven are rejoicing over you right now, Richard, and so are the angels standing right here.” He threw his arms around Richard and hugged him tightly. Monica, Tess, and Gloria followed suit.
“Remember--” Andrew touched Christina’s shoulder. “--put Ryan in God’s hands. God loves him more than you ever can, and He has his hand on your brother. And remember that your mother and your daughter are together in Heaven, and your mother is praying for you constantly.”
Christina smiled. “She is?”
Andrew nodded. “She is. And you will see them again, soon. In the flesh.”
Christina took a deep breath. “Then would you please give them my love when you return to Heaven?”
“I sure will,” Andrew promised. “I will be going back and forth quite a bit in the years to come. As an angel of death, it’s my job to escort people who are dying to their new home.” He bit his lip. “If you hadn’t prayed to the Father, Richard, when you did, I would have had to escort your wife up there. I didn’t want to do that, and I’m very glad I didn’t have to.”
Richard winced again. “So am I.”
Andrew smiled. “My friend, Adam, is also an angel of death. It was his privilege to escort your sister Home when she was murdered. Although her life was not saved, as Christina’s was, she was given the peace of God in her last moments. Peace that enabled her to face death with courage. Her faith in God made that peace possible.” He paused. “I should add that it was my privilege to escort Home Christina’s mother. She had the same peace, Christina, and her immediate concern was for you and Ryan. When she arrived before the Father’s throne, the first request she made was that He comfort you.” He faced Christina as he spoke.
Christina smiled as tears ran down her face. “Thank You, God,” she prayed.
“Amen,” Monica said.
Richard gazed at Andrew, then at Tess. “You said the Kingdom will last a thousand year. What will happen when it ends?”
Tess glanced at the other angels. “Read the last 3 chapters of the Book of Revelation.” She smiled. “You’ll find your answer there.”
Richard glanced at his wife and nodded acquiescence. “Has the Tribulation started yet?” He pressed the toe of his right shoe against the blades of grass, flattening several of them. Christina leaned against him.
Tess shook her head. “Not yet, but soon.” She paused. “The treaty will be signed any day now.”
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Ryan and Kristen had been pouring over Bible passages for hours, ever since they had sat at Ryan’s kitchen table to study together. They’d started in the book of John, exploring the Christian faith. It hadn’t taken long for Kristen to realize exactly what being a Christian entailed. Prayer had become a key part of their time together in the past few hours. Now, they were going over the Book of Revelation, trying to understand what was literal and what was symbolic. Ryan had never felt so...complete in his life.
He had God in his life, and he was studying the Bible with the most remarkable woman in the world. He felt completely content. Somehow, he felt closer to Kristen than he ever had before. She wasn’t just a romantic interest now--she was his sister in Christ, and they shared a bond that could never be broken. Somehow, he knew that this was the woman with whom God wanted him to spend the next several years.
Just then, Ryan’s cell phone rang at his elbow. Kristen almost instinctively reached out to grab it, but Ryan gently put his hand on her arm. Kristen glanced at him, confused. Ryan felt his face redden. Kristen had almost answered his phone! If that were Richard, he’d never live down a woman answering his phone!
Kristen suddenly understood, and burst out laughing. Ryan's blush deepened when he realized the phone was on its fourth ring. Kristen stifled her laughter as Ryan picked up the phone, clearing his throat. Resting his elbow on the table, he held the phone up to his ear. Kristen leaned both elbows on the table and used them to prop her chin.
“Hello?” he said, barely able to mask his embarrassment.
“Ryan,” came the all-too familiar smooth voice. “This is Antonio Puccini.”
Ryan stiffened. He hadn’t spoken to Puccini since before he’d become a believer. “Mr. Pu...” he began, then, remembering previous orders and requests, corrected himself. “Uh, Antonio. What a...uh...surprise.”
“A pleasant one, I hope,” spoke the man Ryan had come to know as the Antichrist. Staring at Kristen, as she lowered her left arm into her lap and pressed the fingers of her right hand against the table’s smooth surface, Ryan wasn’t sure what to say. It certainly wasn’t a pleasant surprise, to say the least.
Ryan was grateful that Puccini continued. “Good news! After several phone calls and a conference call, a date has been set for the signing of the 7-year peace treaty in Jerusalem. Exactly two days from now, we will sign the treaty in Jerusalem. I am counting on you to fly me there.”
Ryan's mind was reeling. Two days? Two days was all there was left of time as they knew it, and then the clock would start ticking. Next to him, Kristen smiled sympathetically--she understood his turmoil.
“Yes, sir,” was all Ryan could say, and even that made his stomach turn. Puccini didn't deserve that much respect. Even to address him by his first name seemed too respectful, but Ryan suspected if he wanted to keep his job--not to mention his life--for any length of time, he had to hide the truth from Puccini, and that included acting as though he respected him. This would be harder than he’d thought. Out loud, he asked, "The Oslo treaty?"
"Yes. At last, it will be officially confirmed." Puccini's voice beamed his satisfaction. "I can count on you, then?"
"Yes."
“Good.” Puccini paused. “And I trust you will not plan any social engagements for that day.”
Ryan froze. Social engagements? Puccini was commenting on his social life? Was he referring to the fact that Ryan and Kristen had been out on a date when the dome had collapsed? No, Ryan hadn’t mentioned that. Did Puccini know about his relationship with Kristen? Impossible! Or, was it? Just what does Puccini know about my personal life? he wondered.
“No,” Ryan said, forcing his voice to be calm. “No social engagements then.”
“Very good,” Puccini said. “Good-bye, then. I will see you tomorrow.”
“Bye,” was all Ryan could manage to say. His throat was dry; he was scared. Suddenly, he remembered something. Puccini was pure evil, yes, but God was stronger than Satan, and Puccini wasn't even fully indwelt by Satan yet. More important, Ryan had God on his side, and “greater was He in Ryan than he that was in the world,” Ryan knew. With that in mind, his fear nearly vanished.
Ryan glanced at his watch. “It’s time to go, Kristen.” He rose to his feet. “My sister’s going to call me tonight, and I’ve got some things to do before then. I’ll get in touch with you afterward, OK?”
“OK.” Rising to her feet, Kristen smiled, then concern creased her forehead. “Be careful, OK? Tomorrow, I mean. I couldn’t stand it if anything happened to you.”
“Don’t worry.” Ryan touched her elbow. “Puccini doesn’t know I’m a believer yet, and I have no intention of letting him find out. I’ll be in touch with you soon.”
Kristen led the way into the living room, where she picked up her purse. At the door, she paused. “Good night, Ryan. See you soon.”
The door clicked as she closed it behind her. Loneliness surged in Ryan as he stared at it. If only she could have stayed! “If only...” he muttered, before he went to the bathroom to take a shower.
___________________________________
That evening, Ryan glanced at his watch for the twelfth time. Christina was supposed to call him soon. She had said she had something to talk to him about, and Ryan had pretty much guessed what it was. His baby sister was a Christian, he knew; she likely wanted to share it with him. Well...he fully intended to surprise her with the knowledge he wasn't just her brother by blood now, but in Christ too.
Christina had told him in an E-mail that had been in his box from the moment he'd gotten Internet access--maybe before--that she’d call him 6:00PM his time, on Thursday. It was exactly 5:58 his time now. Ryan glanced impatiently at the phone. It should ring any moment now...especially since he wasn't sure if her clock was set the same way as his.
Exactly as he predicted, the phone rang a minute later. He answered on the first ring. “Hi, sis.”
“Hi, Ryan.” Christina giggled. “Either you have caller I.D. or you got my E-mail.”
“The latter,” Ryan remarked casually. He wanted to keep it as light as possible because it would get much more serious in the next few minutes. Leaning against the back of his couch, he leaned his elbow on its arm. The mattress sagged under him as he shifted position.
“Good,” Christina said. There was silence for a moment. Ryan was tempted to tell her he knew what she wanted to talk about, but he didn't know if she yet knew about the presence of angels in their lives.
Christina finally spoke. “Umm...Ryan, do you remember when we were all at dinner and Richard exploded when we started talking about God? And you wanted to know...”
Ryan finished the sentence for her. “What Monica meant, when she said what you’d done would be beneficial to your mental health in the next few years?”
“Yeah,” Christina said simply, kind of softly. “Well...I thought I’d explain that now. I became a Christian, Ryan.” Christina waited a beat, then said, “Now I know you probably don’t know what that means but...”
Ryan interrupted her. “I do know what that means.” He paused. “I knew you’d turned religious, and I knew that Richard was giving you an hard time about it.” He could sense Christina's surprise as the creak of her chair told him she had sat up straight. Well, he thought, if she thinks that’s surprising, wait until she hears this! Out loud, he told her, “Well, so did I. Yesterday morning. I’ve accepted the Lord, too.” A broad smiled snaked across his face as he spoke.
Silence. Then Christina shouted, “That’s great, Ryan!” Suddenly, her voice dropped to a mumble, and he heard a shout of joy from across the room.
“What?” Ryan said.
“That was Richard,” Christina said. “Actually, we already knew. Monica told us, yesterday. But it’s still good to hear it from you, Ryan.”
Ryan shook his head, as his lower jaw dropped. He wasn’t sure what to think, let alone say. It didn’t surprise him that Monica had told them about his new faith--she had, after all, led him to the Lord. And since angels have superhuman powers, it stood to reason that Monica would be able to travel to the Daly home and back on short notice. But had that shout of joy actually come from Richard?! With the way he’d always resented any reference to God, Ryan knew there had to be a big change in Richard's heart.
Suddenly, Christina seemed to change the subject. “Hey, Ryan, do you remember back when you and Richard were kids...how you used to wish you had the same birthday?”
Ryan thought he heard a groan in the background...and he felt like groaning, too. Oh boy, did he ever remember it! When he and Richard had been about 11 years old, they’d spent hours in Richard’s backyard fort trying to figure out how to fool the fabrics of time and space to give them the same birthday. But why did Christina have to go and bring that up now? “Yeah,” he said, barely able to choke the word out. And he thought he’d been embarrassed when Kristen had nearly answered his phone!
“Well…” Christina said slowly, then paused. Ryan fidgeted as he waited. (Did she enjoy torturing him or something?) “Let’s just say you’ve got your wish...in a roundabout way. You now have the same spiritual birthday.”
Ryan was stunned. If he hadn’t already been seated, he would have collapsed onto the couch. The hand holding the cell phone dropped limply onto the soft mattress next to his hip. Richard had become a Christian?! Whoa! Ryan had not been expecting that! Richard--a Christian? As bad as things had become, angels must have been deeply involved in their lives, otherwise, his stubborn, atheistic brother-in-law never would have even listened to the gospel message, let alone accepted it. The angels must have been working overtime on Richard! he thought.
Ryan couldn’t manage to say any of this. Although his mind was whirring 100 miles per hour, his mouth was completely dumb--he could neither muster the strength to hold the cell phone back to his ear nor utter a sound. Finally, he managed to raise the phone back to his ear to squeak out a soft, “Wow.”
Christina chuckled. “You’re stunned, aren’t you? Well, it’s true. As to how it happened--well, it's a long story. Guess you know about Monica…”
“Yeah,” Ryan said, simply. “Amazing, huh? Angels all around us, and we didn't even suspect.” He swallowed hard, as he pressed the fingers of his left hand against the mattress, forming a dent beneath them.
“I knew,” commented Christina. “I've known about Gloria since soon after the Rapture--I was just waiting for them to open up to you two.” She paused. “Richard’s new flight officer is an angel, too--he helped me make supper that evening, remember? And so is Tess.”
“No!” Ryan laughed. “To think we’ve been surrounded by angels all this time, and we never knew it. God must have really determined to get our attention, to go to such lengths.” He grinned. Christina had just left herself wide open for one of his famous jokes. “You know, I've always heard that God’s a gentleman, but I never thought He’d follow the ‘ladies first’ rule.”
They both burst into laughter. “Ryan!” Christina gasped. “Lay off the lame jokes!”
“Lame?” Ryan echoed, in mock-anger. “Lame? If my joke was lame, why are you laughing?”
“Don't be silly,” Christina said, amidst giggles. When they’d stopped laughing, Christina said, “Well...I honestly don't know what to say. I called to talk to you about God and explain the plan of salvation to you, but now I don't know what to talk to you about. I’d forgotten that Monica was way ahead of me.” She giggled some more.
Perfect timing! Ryan felt like he was going to explode if he didn’t tell someone how he felt around Kristen. “Well...” he said, "there is something going on here that you might like to know about...”
“Oh?” Christina asked in her best curious-annoying-little-sister voice. “And what might that be?”
“I’m dating someone,” Ryan said. He grinned broadly as he spoke.
Before Christina could ask, Ryan began answering every question before she could ask it. “Her name’s Kristen Crossman, and she’s absolutely the most gorgeous woman on the face of the planet. She’s a real sweetheart and really nice, and to top it off, just last night she became a Christian.”
“Whoa!” Christina’s voice squeaked. “You’re just full of surprises today, aren’t you?”
“What's so surprising about that?” Ryan asked in a mock-offended voice.
Ryan could almost hear Christina’s grin. “Because I didn’t even see that one coming. When did you meet Kristen, anyway? Where does she live; what does she do for a living? How long have you know her, now?”
Ryan didn't even get a chance to answer before a clicking sound on the phone startled him. “Hey, what’s this I hear about you having a girlfriend now?” Richard asked. Evidently, he was on the extension.
Ryan laughed. He hadn’t heard Richard say anything like that for...he couldn't remember how long. Richard wasn’t the same man he had been the last time Ryan had seen him. He was much more relaxed, much more at peace; Ryan could hear that just from listening to him. “Yep,” he said. “I met her the day of the Rapture, but we only started going out about a week ago. She lives in the same apartment complex as me. As for what she does for a living...”
Pausing, Ryan pressed his lips together. How come they always asked the question he didn’t want to answer? How could he explain that his girlfriend was Puccini’s secretary? For a moment, he gazed down at the tufts of carpet lying flattened under his slipper-clad feet, wondering how best to explain. Well...he’d just have to tell them and let the conversation ride from there. “She’s President Puccini’s secretary,” he finally said, his voice flat and sad.
“Ouch,” Richard said.
“Should she be working so closely with him?” Christina asked, at the same moment, apprehension in her voice. Ryan shook his head. He should have expected those reactions, Richard's quick sympathy and Christina's nearly trademark mamma-bear protectiveness.
“Hey, keep in mind Kristen's not the only one in that boat. I'm the guy's private pilot, remember?” Ryan reminded them. “Right now, we both need a lot of prayer.”
“We're already praying for you, Ryan,” Christina said lovingly. Ryan felt tears well up in his eyes as she said that. She sounded so much like their mother when she spoke like that. To avoid crying, he swiftly changed the subject.
“I’m flying Puccini to Israel again tomorrow, for the treaty signing. It’s scheduled for the day after. Everyone’ll be watching it, all over the world.”
“Yes. We heard about that,” Richard said. “You know what that means, don't you?”
“Yeah.” Ryan bit his lower lip. “It means the Tribulation starts, day after tomorrow. Fortunately, the first seal judgment is the arrival of the Antichrist. We’ll probably have a time of peace before things really start up.” He rested his left hand in his lap as he spoke.
“Right,” Christina said. “Three and a half years, to be exact.”
Suddenly, a computerized voice spoke. “Your card has 2 minutes left.”
“Hello?” Ryan said. “Christina? Richard? You there?”
“We’re here,” they said in unison.
“The calling card’s almost out of time,” Christina said. “I better go.”
“All right,” Ryan said. “Talk to you later. Bye.”
The phone call ended. After Ryan hung up, he sunk down in the couch. Tomorrow would be a long day, and Ryan really didn’t have much that he had to do for the rest of the day. He’d have to go to bed early tonight, but not just yet. With a smile, he rose to his feet and strolled towards the front door. Maybe he could pay Kristen a visit now.
___________________________________
Two days later, in Israel, a crowd assembled on the Temple Mount. Ryan stood back in the crowd, cellular phone in hand. Several cameras had been set up in the background. Beads of sweat dribbled down his face--he reached up to wipe them off with his sleeve, then inserted his left hand into one of his pants pockets. With the right, he clutched the cell phone. Several fleecy clouds drifted overhead.
President Puccini stood behind a podium, sandwiched between Jacob Barak and Ishmael Mozenrath. Dayan stood to Barak’s left. Puccini patted the side of his pants with his right hand as he waited. Smiles creased Barak’s face; Mozenrath stood impassively. All four wore immaculate business suits and microphones attached to their collars. In the background, the Italian prime minister stood in a line with several other dignitaries.
“You watching?” Ryan spoke into the phone.
“Richard just turned the TV to CNN,” Christina answered. “Yes! It’s on.”
Puccini raised his hands for silence. The crowd quieted. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “this is one of the most meaningful and history-making events we shall ever have the good fortune to witness! This is the day that will, at long last, bring peace to the Middle East.” He paused to glance at the two men next to him, first Barak, then Mozenrath. “In a minute, the three of us will sign a treaty that will allow Israel to live in peace and safety, to rebuild her temple at long last, and that will allow the Palestinian Authority to have its own state.” He paused. “Until now, it was not possible for the PA to have a sovereign state, because Israel was in a constant state of siege from suicide bombers. But now that the terrorists have, at long last, been quieted, the day has come for the Palestinians to have their long-promised state.” Everyone burst into applause, except Ryan.
Little do you know, he thought, as a queasy sensation rose in his gut. He fidgeted, shifting his weight from one foot to the next. A pebble rolled from underneath his left shoe.
“This treaty will be good for a period of seven years,” Puccini went on. “During that time, peacekeepers from the European Union and the United Nations will be stationed in Israel, to see to it that hostile factions from either side do not attempt to start war or commit acts of terrorism, for any reason. At the end of the seven years, we will review the treaty and see what changes, if any, need to be made before we renew it for another period.”
Puccini picked up a piece of paper. As he read the terms of the seven-year treaty, the crowd listened attentively. Ryan held the phone to his ear, just in case Richard or Christina had anything to say. A cool breeze picked up, caressing his perspiring face. It felt good.
Puccini hurried toward a table set near the podium, the treaty in his right hand. As he laid the treaty on the table, he beckoned to the three other men. Barak, Dayan, and Mozenrath approached.
“You first, Ishmael.” Puccini handed the pen to Mozenrath, who bent over to sign the treaty. Ryan wondered what was going through the PA chairman’s mind as he did. Surely nothing good.
Barak was next. Smiling, he signed the treaty as everyone watched. Barak, you’re making a treaty with the devil, and you don’t even know it! Ryan stifled a groan. If only you knew!
Barak handed the pen to Dayan, who bent down to sign the treaty. When Dayan finished, he handed the pen to Puccini, who signed his own name.
When Antonio laid the pen down, the audience burst out into thunderous applause. Barak and Mozenrath shook hands, with Barak and Dayan beaming as they did so. Mozenrath neither smiled nor frowned, but looked expressionless.
“Did you get that?” Ryan asked Christina and Richard, as the clapping subsided.
“Yeah,” Richard said. “I have a lot to learn about this Bible prophecy stuff, but I have an uneasy feeling about all this.”
“So do I.” Christina’s voice shook. “This treaty will only bring a temporary peace. Then all-out war will break out.”
“It sure will.” Ryan pressed his lips into a tight line.
A little toward the right of the assembled crowd, four angels watched with grim expressions. Ryan nodded toward them and smiled.
Tess folded her arms across her chest and shook her head. “Well, angel babies, this is it.” She sighed. “The Tribulation is now in progress.”
Andrew shook his head. “I feel sad for the people here, Tess. If only they would turn to God and accept His mercy, He would make peace! But they insist on doing things their way, as people have down through the millennia.”
“Yes, and the consequences will be catastrophic.” Tess sighed. “This will cost billions of people not only their lives, but their very souls.”
Monica shook her head. “We’ve got our work cut out for us. We’re going to be quite busy for the next 7 years.”
“Yes, Miss Wings. Very busy.” Tess glanced upward as a dove flew over the Temple Mount, cooing softly. “We will be back to minister to the Dalys and to Ryan in the near future, but for now, the Father has other work for us to do. Let’s go.”
“Why the near future?” Gloria pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose as she spoke.
“Because, Gloria, the Father has a ministry for them, and they’re going to need angelic help to do it successfully.”
Following the dove, the angels disappeared into the sunlight. Ryan watched them as they left. A grateful smile spread across his face as he reached over his neck to scratch his upper back.
Thank You, God, he prayed silently. Thank You for sending us those angels. And for Kristen! He smiled. I want to get a present for Kristen, but I won’t do it just yet. I’ll wait till I get home. I need to decide what to do in my new relationship, too. He squared his shoulders and turned his attention back to the ceremony.
END OF CHAPTER 12