Kingdom Come - The Final Victory by Tim Lahaye, Jerry B. Jenkins Page A

perspective. And since he and Rayford had briefly greeted each other after the sheep-and-goats judgment in the Valley of Jehoshaphat nearly a hundred years before? “I was immediately assigned to Africa, serving on a development team. It’s as rewarding a task as I’ve ever enjoyed. I worked myself to a state of refreshed exhaustion every day, if you know what I mean. The Lord gave me gifts I never would have expected, and He helped me exercise them to the fullest from day one. I built roads, helped construct buildings, even worked on power grids and helped neutralize and dismantle weapons. I can’t wait to see where He assigns me next.”
    “Me either,” Mac said. “I’ve been toiling away in my area of expertise all these years, living in what used to be Russia. We’re working on building airliners for the whole world.”
    “Excuse me, Rafe,” Irene said, “but a priest is at the door, looking for you three.”
    They looked at each other. “Send him in,” Rayford said. “By all means.”

EIGHT

    THE SHORT and stocky priest wore a linen garment and trousers. When he bowed and introduced himself as Yerik from the line of Zadok, neatly trimmed hair showed from beneath his turban.
    “We are honored, sir,” Rayford said. “Would you join us for fried vegetables and fresh fruit?”
    “Thank you, no. Ma’am, have you ground your meal yet today?”
    Irene shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
    “No matter. You did not expect me. Nonetheless, I pray the Lord’s blessing on your house.”
    “Thank you,” Irene said.
    “To what do we owe the privilege?” Rayford said.
    “I bring you greetings from and an invitation to an audience with the prince at midday.”
    “King David?” Rayford said, the words catching in his throat.
    “You are to inform no one else, and you are to bring your two associates from the tribes. They are being summoned as we speak and shall meet you three on the causeway.”
    “Forgive me, sir,” Rayford said, “but there is another. Abdullah Ababneh?”
    “Hmm. You may take that up with the prince. To my knowledge, you and Dr. Rosenzweig and Mr. McCullum are the only naturals invited. May I inform the prince of your acceptance?”
    “With our highest regards.”
----
    Raymie didn’t know what to think of Qasim Marid at first, but it did strike him as strange that Zaki brought the young man without Bahira along and knowing that Kenny was already busy at COT . The three met at Raymie’s home.
    Qasim had a long, pointy face with a scraggly black beard, and while he was thin and of only average height, his robe was too short. It hung just above his knees, and the sleeves barely reached his elbows. He spoke quickly and explained that he liked it that way because it allowed him to move easier. “Especially when I have to run, which is often.” This was followed by a rollicking laugh. “So, how can I help you fellas?”
    Raymie cocked his head and studied the man. “We are a close-knit group,” he began slowly. “And we don’t apologize for being devout followers of—”
    “It’s not like I’m a stranger,” Qasim said. “Me and Zaki here have been buddies for ninety years.”
    “I must have seen you around COT . Why don’t I recognize you?”
    “The beard’s new. Plus I work in a different area. I’m in recreation.”
    “So you play with the children.”
    “Thousands of ’em.”
    “Have you ministered to them?”
    “Well, sure, yeah.” He looked to Zaki, who nodded. “I know all the songs and all the stories and all the prayers.”
    “The prayers?”
    “You know, I pray with the kids, know what to say—that kind of thing.”
    “He does,” Zaki said.
    “Pardon my saying so,” Raymie said, “but so did Cendrillon.”
    “This guy’s for real, Raymie. Trust me. We’ve been friends for—”
    “A long time, right. I got that. Let’s let Qasim speak for himself, shall we? Have you led children to Christ?”
    “Have I led them?”
    “Surely you know what I