Come nightfall, toll free numbers would be answered by these well-known individuals. Others created chat rooms offering what they hoped to be a safe haven for anyone feeling suicidal.

  The Miracle Maker had struck again.

  After lunch Romanero met with some of the President’s top cabinet members. They listened as the young Spaniard waxed poetic in his deep, cultured voice, sharing what he thought was needed to ensure humanity’s future survival.

  Despite his charm and charisma, President Danforth remained unmoved by him. It was evident that Romanero was out to ensnare the entire world with his one-world government nonsense. He didn’t give a hoot about the personal freedoms or civil liberties of those who placed patriotism to country above globalism.

  Why couldn’t world leaders see that they were being blinded by his strong hypnotic powers, without the slightest regard to where it would all lead?

  The President looked around the room wondering who, if anyone, from his administration had quietly sided with Romanero. He was certain there were some.

  The way they openly pined for his attention, despite that their boss staunchly opposed him, was quite unsettling. He couldn’t help but wonder how many would jump ship if push ever came to shove?

  President Danforth knew Aaron Gillespie was still with him. Vice President Everett Ashford too. Aside from them, it was difficult knowing who would remain loyal to the U.S. and who would not. Clearly a rift was developing within his administration, upsetting his stomach all the more.

  Perhaps Romanero would bribe them by promising high-paying positions just to lure them in.

  Time would tell...

  After the meeting, President Danforth and Salvador Romanero dined together at the White House. The First Lady declined to join them. Refused was more like it. She couldn’t stand being in Romanero’s presence.

  During the meal, both men smiled for the cameras, but clearly they weren’t on the same page. Perhaps if the young Spaniard wasn’t out to take his position as leader of the free world, things might be different between them. After all, he was bold, daring, and a risk taker; qualities the President himself possessed in great quantities and openly admired in others.

  But beneath the surface, there was something unsettling about his European visitor that made the hair on the back of his neck stand at full attention. The President felt like he was harboring the enemy, which, in fact, he was.

  Romanero knew the American President would never submit to his authority or to a one-world government. If the roles were reversed, I surely wouldn’t do it, the thirty-year-old man thought. But the roles aren’t reversed. This is my time to shine, not his!

  After dinner, Romanero was taken to the Blair House across the street from the White House, which was used to house foreign dignitaries.

  President Danforth was just thankful he was out of the White House. But with tens of thousands of Americans still outside chanting, “Salvador! Salvador! Salvador!” his inner trembling continued.

  Romanero, on the other hand, allowed himself to bathe in it. Had he run for the highest office of any country, including America, who could challenge him? The answer was obvious: no one.

  But leading a single country wasn’t part of his agenda. He wanted to rule the entire planet.

  Romanero was headed to New York City in the morning for an afternoon session at UN Headquarters, before flying to Los Angeles. After that, he was off to Tokyo, Japan.

  Everyone wanted a piece of the man. It was difficult imagining just how quickly Salvador Romanero had risen high above the landscape of humanity to become the most popular person on the planet, perhaps even in the history of the world.

  Even scarier was that this was just the beginning...

  35

  CHARLES CALLOWAY NEARLY JUMPED for joy when he was notified on his mobile device that he’d received a text message from someone at www.lsarglobal.org, requesting a conference with him on Skype. Funnily enough, he was in the process of emailing them again for the seventh time since discovering the website when the text message came through.

  Calloway replied: Sure. Any time’s good for me.

  Clayton Holmes replied: No time like the present, right? Already online. Here’s my temporary Skype name. Add me.

  Calloway did as he was instructed. Almost immediately, he was invited to a video call. Two men appeared on his laptop screen, sitting side-by-side.

  “Hey, Charles. My name’s Clayton Holmes and this is my good friend and co-founder of the website, Travis Hartings.”

  “Nice to meet you, gentlemen,” Calloway said. So, you’re the voice, huh?

  “Likewise,” the two men said in unison.

  Clayton Holmes was a giant of a man. The 49-year-old African-American man stood a towering 6'5" with a head full of tightly coiled, thick black hair. Weighing 270 pounds, he looked like an NFL offensive lineman. Those who knew him described him as a “gentle giant.”

  That is, until someone dared mess with him. Then he had a retaliatory glare that would sober up any potential troublemaker.

  Travis Hartings, on the other hand, had an average height and build. On the lean side, the Caucasian man stood 5'10" and weighed 180 pounds. Now 50, the hair on his head was almost completely gray. He had green eyes and a salt-and-pepper finely groomed beard and mustache. He wore eyeglasses.

  “We only have a few moments to spare,” Travis Hartings said. “but I must say, you’re quite persistent.”

  Calloway chuckled, “Especially when I know what I want.”

  “And what is it you want from us, Mister Calloway?”

  “To be part of what you’re doing.”

  “Naturally, we’re encouraged hearing this, but we need to be extremely careful with whom we associate ourselves. As you might imagine,” Travis Hartings said in a cultured southern drawl, “we’ve been bombarded with tens of thousands of emails from visitors to the site, both good and bad.”

  “Can’t say I’m surprised. The moment I saw your website I felt I was meant to meet you guys and join forces, so to speak.”

  “We have a lofty plan, Mister Calloway, one that’ll require the help of many to carry out. After doing a little digging into your past,” Clayton Holmes said, “perhaps you can help us. Your father was a pastor, right?”

  “Yes, in Atlanta.” They’ve been stalking me? Oddly enough, Calloway wasn’t offended. Nor did he feel his rights had been violated. This was a whole new world. “Where are you guys from?”

  “We can’t disclose that to you at this time. Ever since the site went live, we’ve received countless death threats from visitors. Truth is, we’re taking a huge risk just showing our faces on cam. Trust must come hard for now. We plan to be very selective when choosing others to help us.”

  “I understand. Just hope I’m one of them.”

  “That much is up to God. For now, we’ll keep digging into your past,” Clayton Holmes said unapologetically, “and praying for God’s wisdom when it comes to sharing future plans with you or anyone else for that matter.”

  “Can I ask?”

  “Go on...”

  Calloway paused. “How can the two of you possibly know so much about these times after being left behind with the rest of us?”

  Travis Hartings laughed, “I’m not the expert. He is,” he said, elbowing Clayton Holmes. “But what I can say is prior to the Rapture, I wanted nothing to do with anything religious. I was V.P. of production at a large manufacturing company. Growing companies and increasing profits was what I did best. That all changed in the twinkling of an eye.

  “When Clayton explained the Rapture to me saying only the real Christians were taken, I flat-out refused to believe him. How could that be when he was the godliest man I’d ever known.

  “If Jesus came back for His Church like he kept saying, why was Clayton still here? After reading the Bible together for three straight days, God opened my spiritual eyes and it started to make perfect sense to me.”

  “Okay, so if you’re the expert,” Charles said to Clayton, “why are you still here?”

  “Fair question. It wasn’t that God had made a mistake with me,” Holmes declared, in that deep booming voice Calloway had heard every day since visiting the site. “God never makes mistakes! Sure, I proclaimed to be a Christian and a devout student of the Bible. I understood what conversion meant, but I was too busy teaching others the Word of God that I forget to apply it to my own life.

  “It’s like I thought I was above salvation or something. The reason I’m sitting here talking to you is that my Christianity was more outwardly than inwardly. How arrogant I was!

  “Six years ago, after many years of studying eschatology, I reached the height of arrogance when I began working on a prophecy web site. It was originally titled, www.chups.com, a synonym for Clayton Holmes’ Ultimate Prophecy Site. Imagine that?”

  Calloway saw the shamed expression on Holmes’ sullen face.

  “When, to my great surprise, I wasn’t taken with the Church, I quickly repented of my sins then worked double-time to get this web site finished. First thing I did was change the name.

  “Then I removed all the bells and whistles, stripping it down to the bare essentials where it should have been all along. I made it all about me when it should’ve been about Him all along,” Holmes said, pointing his finger skyward.

  Shaking his head, he said, “Whenever I think of the old name, I wanna vomit. The old site was dedicated more to myself than to my Lord and Savior. Guess you can say pride kept me from knowing the Truth. How could God fill me when I was so full of myself?

  “Jesus said in Revelation chapter three, verse twenty that we were to be hot or cold. Those who are lukewarm He would spit out of His mouth. That’s exactly how I felt that day, like Jesus spit me out of His mouth.”

  Calloway sighed, “I know how you feel, except I don’t even think I was lukewarm.”

  “Much like the Pharisees in the days of Jesus, I looked the part of someone who many considered righteous in the eyes of the One True God. But the fact that I’m still here is all the proof I need that I wasn’t. Praise God for second chances, right?”

  “Amen to that!” Calloway exclaimed.

  “My lack of belief and great pride have cost me dearly. Now, instead of being part of the Church Age—an age that officially ended at the Rapture—I’m forced to suffer along with everyone else as a Tribulation saint. That’s what we Christ followers are called in the Bible after the peace treaty’s been signed between the Antichrist and Israel. Now that my eyes have been fully opened, I will show no fear when sharing the Gospel with others.”

  “What about this Salvador Romanero fellow?”

  “Off the record,” Holmes said, “I’m convinced he’s the Antichrist. But I won’t post my thoughts on the site until I’m one-hundred percent certain. If he announces a peace treaty signing with Israel, I’ll be the first to expose him for the fraud that he is.”

  “Won’t that be dangerous?”

  “Yes, it will. But if I lose my life as a result, so be it. Like the Apostle Paul said in Philippians one, verse twenty-one, ‘For me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.’”

  “As you can see,” Hartings said, admiring his partner’s bravery, “Clayton is clearly the front man of this organization and spiritual adviser. I’m more of the business facilitator and organizer. I prefer working behind the scenes.”

  Calloway said, “You make good business partners.”

  “Time will tell. But I sure hope so, because more than a million people have already visited the site. Nearly a hundred thousand have requested prayer. So many are desperate to fellowship with other new believers around the world.”

  “That’s awesome,” said Calloway.

  “Indeed, it is. With our database growing exponentially, we need to find a way to capitalize on such a blessing. I keep warning Clayton that if we don’t get organized soon, we’ll have no chance at survival. The enemy will crush us before we can even put up a fight.”

  Travis Hartings straightened up in his chair. “Besides raising much-needed capital to help reach others for Christ, much money will be needed for the housing of outlaw believers. So much needs to be done. The key, of course, is knowing who we can trust, especially as time marches on.”

  Clayton Holmes weighed in, “We’re mindful that having a web site like this will ultimately make us marked men. But we don’t care. Travis and I consider it an honor to suffer for the glory of God. But we need more people like us. The only way we can pose a challenge to the enemy is if thousands of others are bold like us!”

  “Count me in, gentlemen,” Charles said. “I want to be a part of what you’re doing.”

  Travis Hartings said, “As we prayerfully consider the possibility of your involvement, don’t be dismayed if you don’t hear from us anytime soon. But rest assured knowing you’ll hear from us at some point one way or the other.”

  “Thanks for the advance warning.”

  “My pleasure, Charles. In closing, please tell no one about this call. And don’t try calling this Skype address. In fact, delete it from your list. It will expire at the end of the day.”

  “Okay,” Calloway said. What else could he say?

  “Until you hear from us again, may God continue to bless and keep you, Charles.”

  “Same to you, gentlemen.”

  At that the conference ended.

  Calloway’s mind was full of questions he wanted to ask them. He knew the first of the Four Horsemen described in Revelation six was the Antichrist. But when would the other three appear on the world stage? What were the Twenty-One Judgments of God? When will the 144,000 in chapter seven of the Book of Revelation be revealed? What about the Two Witnesses? And on and on.

  Perhaps next time.

  Charles bowed his head: “Lord Father God, please open this door for me. Thy will be done.” Not knowing what else to say, he said, “I ask these things in Your Son’s precious name, Amen.”

  36

  CHRISTMAS EVE

  CHRISTMAS TREES WERE APLENTY. With so much snow in so many places, even in places where it rarely fell, an immediate air of ambiance was present.

  Normally, this would be enough to put anyone in the mood for Christmas. There was nothing like sitting near a warm fireplace sipping hot cocoa, staring at colorful lights on a Christmas tree while listening to Christmas music, as snow fell silently outside.

  Snow, especially, elevated everyone’s euphoria a few notches. But not this year.

  In countries where Christmas was celebrated, tree farmers and vendors alike were financially devastated. So many had made large non-refundable deposits on Christmas trees long before the disappearances. Because many had sunk their entire life savings into the venture, they had no choice but try recouping their investments.

  To their great dismay, most weren’t in the mood this year.

  “Maybe next year,” had become the norm in most circles.

  Far too many trees had been cut down. They lay in stores and parking lots, where they would remain unsold. They would have been better left untouched.

  Besides, with no children around, why decorate the house for nothing? Who would appreciate the bright lights? Most agreed that decorating the house would be a total waste of time and electricity.

  Some went against the advice of most and decided to decorate anyway, if only to give them a slight sense of normalcy—even if jaded—and something to do.

  Most, however, weren’t up to the grueling task of “doing” Christmas this year. It was just too painful.

  Traditionally, nearly half of all annual revenues were generated this time of the year. Retailers had successfully hijacked Christmas long ago, by tricking many into thinking December 25th was all about Santa Claus, Frosty the Snowman, Jingle Bells and shopping till you drop.

  Instead of celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ, this blatant commercialism had transformed the holiday season into the ultimate shopping extravaganza, thus ruining it. But not this year.

  Toys crowded shelves in boarded up stores everywhere, begging for a child to play with—any child—to no avail. With no customer base to tap into, most toy stores hadn’t reopened since the disappearances. Those that did were now paying the price.

  Even if children somehow repopulated the Earth in the not-too-distant future, how could they possibly stay afloat until such a time came?

  If it came...

  Not only did toys crowd shelves in stores, warehouses were filled to the brim with countless billions of dollars worth of unshipped toys, sporting goods equipment, electronics and children’s clothing.

  Manufacturers had invested billions up front before the Rapture, anticipating tripling or quadrupling their investments. Countries like China, Taiwan, Japan and the United States—the world’s largest toy and clothing manufacturers—were the hardest hit.

  Consequently, Toys for Tots, Make-A-Wish Foundation, and all other non-profit organizations, were essentially out of business for the foreseeable future. Who wanted to donate time or money for children’s causes now? What sense did that make?

  And with theme parks still closed indefinitely, companies like Disney, Six Flags, Universal Studios and Busch Gardens were financially devastated. Their stocks were suddenly worthless.

 

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