The Left Behind Collection: All 12 Books (33 page)

“There will come a time, Chloe, that followers of Antichrist will be required to bear the sign of the beast. There are all kinds of theories on what form that might take, from a tattoo to a stamp on the forehead that might be detected only under infrared light. But obviously we would refuse to bear that mark. That very act of defiance will be a mark in itself. We will be the naked ones, the ones devoid of the protection of belonging to the majority. You still want to be part of the Tribulation Force?”

Rayford nodded and smiled at his daughter’s firm reply. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

Two hours after the Steeles had left, Buck Williams parked his rental car in front of New Hope Village Church in Mount Prospect, Illinois. He had a sense of destiny tinged with fear. Who would this Bruce Barnes be? What would he look like? And would he be able to detect a non-Christian at a glance?

Buck sat in the car, his head in his hands. He was too analytical, he knew, to make a rash decision. Even his leaving home years before to pursue an education and become a journalist had been plotted for years. To his family it came like a thunderbolt, but to young Cameron Williams it was a logical next step, a part of his long-range plan.

Where Buck sat now was not part of any plan. Nothing that had happened since that ill-fated flight to Heathrow had fit into any predefined pattern for him. He had always liked the serendipity of life, but he processed it through a grid of logic, attacked it from a perspective of order. The firestorm of Israel had jarred him, but even then he had been acting from a standpoint of order. He had a career, a position, a role. He had been in Israel on assignment, and though he hadn’t expected to become a war correspondent overnight, he had been prepared by the way he had ordered his life.

But nothing had prepared him for the disappearances or for the violent deaths of his friends. While he should have been prepared for this promotion, that hadn’t been part of his plan, either. Now his theory article was bringing him close to flames he had never known were burning in his soul. He felt alone, exposed, vulnerable, and yet this meeting with Bruce Barnes had been his idea. Sure, the airline pilot had suggested it, but Buck could have ignored him without remorse. This trip had not been about getting in a few extra hours with the beautiful Chloe, and the Chicago bureau could have waited. He was here, he knew, for this meeting. Buck felt a bone weariness as he headed for the church.

It was a pleasant surprise to find that Bruce Barnes was someone near Buck’s own age. He seemed bright and earnest, having that same authority and passion Rayford Steele exhibited. It had been a long time since Buck had been in a church. This one seemed innocuous enough, fairly new and modern, neat and efficient. He and the young pastor met in a modest office.

“Your friends, the Steeles, told me you might call,” Barnes said.

Buck was struck by his honesty. In the world in which Buck moved, he might have kept that information to himself, that edge. But he realized that the pastor had no interest in an edge. There was nothing to hide here. In essence, Buck was looking for information and Bruce was interested in providing it.

“I want to tell you right off,” Bruce said, “that I am aware of your work and respect your talent. But to be frank, I no longer have time for the pleasantries and small talk that used to characterize my work. We live in perilous times. I have a message and an answer for people genuinely seeking. I tell everyone in advance that I have quit apologizing for what I’m going to say. If that’s a ground rule you can live with, I have all the time you need.”

“Well, sir,” Buck said, nearly staggered by the emotion and humility he heard in his own voice, “I appreciate that. I don’t know how long I’ll need, because I’m not here on business. It might have made sense to get a pastor’s view for my story, but people can guess what pastors think, especially based on the other people I’m quoting.”

“Like Captain Steele.”

Buck nodded. “I’m here for myself, and I have to tell you frankly, I don’t know where I am on this. Not that long ago I would never have set foot in a place like this or dreamed anything intellectually worthwhile could come out of here. I know that wasn’t exactly journalistically fair of me, but as long as you’re being honest, I will be, too.

“I was impressed with Captain Steele. That’s one smart guy, a good thinker, and he’s into this. You seem like a bright person, and—I don’t know. I’m listening, that’s all I’ll say.”

Bruce began by telling Buck his life story, being raised in a Christian home, going to Bible college, marrying a Christian, becoming a pastor, the whole thing. He clarified that he knew the story of Christ and the way of forgiveness and a relationship with God. “I thought I had the best of both worlds. But the Scripture is clear that you can’t serve two masters. You can’t have it both ways. I discovered that truth in the severest way.” And he told of losing his family and friends, everyone dear to him. He wept as he spoke. “The pain is every bit as great today as it was when it happened,” he said.

Then Bruce outlined, as Rayford had done, the plan of salvation from beginning to end. Buck grew nervous, anxious. He wanted a break. He interrupted and asked if Bruce wanted to know a little more about him. “Sure,” Bruce said.

Buck told of his own history, concentrating most on the Russia/Israel conflict and the roughly fourteen months since. “I can see,” Bruce said at last, “that God is trying to get your attention.”

“Well, he’s got it,” Buck said. “I just have to warn you, I’m not an easy sell. All this is interesting and sounds more plausible than ever, but it’s just not me to jump into something.”

“Nobody can force you or badger you into this, Mr. Williams, but I must also say again that we live in perilous times. We don’t know how much pondering time we have.”

“You sound like Chloe Steele.”

“And she sounds like her father,” Bruce said, smiling.

“And he, I guess, sounds like you. I can see why you all consider this so urgent, but like I say—”

“I understand,” Bruce said. “If you have the time right now, let me take a different tack. I know you’re a bright guy, so you might as well have all the information you need before you leave here.”

Buck breathed easier. He had feared Bruce was about to pop the question, pushing him to pray the prayer both Rayford Steele and Chloe had talked about. He accepted that that would be part of it, that it would signal the transaction and start his relationship with God—someone he had never before really spoken to. But he wasn’t ready. At least he didn’t think he was. And he would not be pushed.

“I don’t have to be back in New York until Monday morning,” he said, “so I’ll take as much time tonight as you’ll give me.”

“I don’t mean to be morbid, Mr. Williams, but I have no family responsibilities anymore. I have a core group meeting tomorrow and church Sunday. You’re welcome to attend. But I have enough energy to go to midnight if you do.”

“I’m all yours.”

Bruce spent the next several hours giving Buck a crash course in prophecy and the end times. Buck had heard much of the information about the Rapture and the two witnesses, and he had picked up snippets about the Antichrist. But when Bruce got to the parts about the great one-world religion that would spring up, the lying, so-called peacemaker who would bring bloodshed through war, the Antichrist who would divide the world into ten kingdoms, Buck’s blood ran cold. He fell silent, no longer peppering Bruce with questions or comments. He scribbled notes as fast as he could.

Did he dare tell this unpretentious man that he believed Nicolae Carpathia could be the very man the Scriptures talked about? Could all this be coincidental? His fingers began to shake when Bruce told of the prediction of a seven-year pact between Antichrist and Israel, of the rebuilding of the temple, and even of Babylon becoming headquarters for a new world order.

Finally, as midnight came, Buck was overcome. He felt a terrible fear deep in his gut. Bruce Barnes could have had no knowledge whatever of the plans of Nicolae Carpathia before they had been announced on the news that afternoon. At one point he thought of accusing Bruce of having based everything he was saying on the CNN report he had heard and seen, but even if he had, here it was in black and white in the Bible.

“Did you see the news today?” Buck asked.

“Not today,” Bruce said. “I’ve been in meetings since noon and grabbed a bite just before you got here.”

Buck told him what had happened at the U.N. Bruce paled. “That’s why we’ve been hearing all those clicking sounds on my answering machine,” Bruce said. “I turned the ringer off on the phone, so the only way you can tell when a call comes in is by the clicking on the answering machine. People are calling to let me know. They do that a lot. We talk about what the Bible says may happen, and when it does, people check in.”

“You think Carpathia is this Antichrist?”

“I don’t see how I could come to any other conclusion.”

“But I really believed in the guy.”

“Why not? Most of us did. Self-effacing, interested in the welfare of the people, humble, not looking for power or leadership. But the Antichrist is a deceiver. And he has the power to control men’s minds. He can make people see lies as truth.”

Buck told Bruce of his invitation to the pre-press-conference meeting.

“You must not go,” Bruce said.

“I can’t
not
go,” Buck said. “This is the opportunity of a lifetime.”

“I’m sorry,” Bruce said. “I have no authority over you, but let me plead with you, warn you, about what happens next. The Antichrist will solidify his power with a show of strength.”

“He already has.”

“Yes, but it appears that all these long-range agreements he has been conceded will take months or years to effect. Now he has to show some potency. What might he do to entrench himself so solidly that no one can oppose him?”

“I don’t know.”

“He undoubtedly has ulterior motives for wanting you there.”

“I’m no good to him.”

“You would be if he controlled you.”

“But he doesn’t.”

“If he is the evil one the Bible speaks of, there is little he does not have the power to do. I warn you not to go there without protection.”

“A bodyguard?”

“At least. But if Carpathia is the Antichrist, do you want to face him without God?”

Buck was taken aback. This conversation was bizarre enough without wondering if Bruce was using any means necessary to get him to convert. No doubt it had been a sincere and logical question, yet Buck felt pressured. “I see what you mean,” he said slowly, “but I don’t think I’m going to get hypnotized or anything.”

“Mr. Williams, you have to do what you have to do, but I’m pleading with you. If you go into that meeting without God in your life, you will be in mortal and spiritual danger.”

He told Buck about his conversation with the Steeles and how they had collectively come up with the idea of a Tribulation Force. “It’s a band of serious-minded people who will boldly oppose the Antichrist. I just didn’t expect that his identity would become so obvious so soon.”

The Tribulation Force stirred something deep within Buck. It took him back to his earliest days as a writer, when he believed he had the power to change the world. He would stay up all hours of the night, plotting with his colleagues how they would have the courage and the audacity to stand up to oppression, to big government, to bigotry. He had lost that fire and verve over the years as he won accolades for his writing. He still wanted to do the right things, but he had lost the passion of the all-for-one and one-for-all philosophy as his talent and celebrity began to outstrip those same colleagues.

The idealist, the maverick in him, gravitated toward such ideas, but he caught himself before he talked himself into becoming a believer in Christ just because of an exciting little club he could join.

“Do you think I could sit in on your core group meeting tomorrow?” he asked.

“I’m afraid not,” Bruce said. “I think you’d find it interesting and I personally believe it would help convince you, but it is limited to our leadership team. Truth is, I’ll be going over with them tomorrow what you and I are talking about tonight, so it would be a rerun for you anyway.”

“And church Sunday?”

“You’re very welcome, but I must say, it’s going to be the same theme I use every Sunday. You’ve heard it from Ray Steele and you’ve heard it from me. If hearing it one more time would help, then come on out and see how many seekers and finders there are. If it’s anything like the last two Sundays, it will be standing room only.”

Buck stood and stretched. He had kept Bruce long past midnight, and he apologized.

“No need,” Bruce said. “This is what I do.”

“Do you know where I can get a Bible?”

“I’ve got one you can have,” Bruce said.