The Doomsday Prophecy

unfolding of God’s plan. And now we’re ready for the next phase.’

‘Which is what?’

‘That’s one your Bible scholars are missing. You have to dig a little deeper for it. It’ll happen in Israel. Israel is the linchpin of Bible prophecy; it’s the centre where the whole thing will play out. So what’s going to actually happen, and my guess is it will happen before too many more years go by, is that there’ll be a major military strike against the sacred nation of Israel. I’m not talking pot-shots across the West Bank, suicide bombers and petty diplomatic upsets. I’m talking full-blown nuclear conflagration.’

‘How do you figure that?’

‘“And thou shalt come up against my people of Israel, as a cloud to cover the land; it shall be in the latter days.”’ Cleaver smiled grimly. ‘The perpetrator of the attack is Gog. The ancient kingdom of Magog, right there in Persia. What nowadays we call Iran. Those are the guys who will launch their missiles at Israel. That’s what’s going to really set things in motion, big time.’

‘You really believe that’s what the Bible is saying?’ Ben asked. ‘That the Muslim nations will declare war on the Jews?’

‘There’s no doubt about it whatsoever,’ Cleaver said. ‘And the results will be profound. The Islamic attack on Israel is what will precipitate the world into the events prophesied by the Book of Revelation.’

‘You would consider the destruction of Israel to be part of God’s plan?’

‘God won’t let Israel be destroyed,’ Cleaver said. ‘They can fire all the missiles they like when the time comes, but they won’t harm a blade of grass. “And it shall come to pass at the same time when Gog shall come against the land of Israel, that my fury shall come up in my face.” See? God will step in and protect Israel, and its enemies will be destroyed.’

Ben smiled and didn’t reply.

‘Now things really start rolling,’ Cleaver said, undeterred. ‘In the aftermath of this terrible war, the world will reach a peace agreement, probably brokered by a European leader. Someone of great charm and charisma, who claims to be a friend of the people.’

‘You’re talking about the Antichrist.’

Cleaver nodded. ‘The Rider on the White Horse. Revelation, chapter six. He who comes to conquer, to wreak destruction and fire upon the earth and enslave us all. The son of Satan himself. And I’m sorry to say it, but I think he might be an Englishman. No offence.’

‘None taken,’ Ben said. ‘And I think I know who he is.’

Cleaver gave a chuckle.

Miss Vale frowned. ‘These things aren’t to be taken lightly, boys.’

‘You’re right, Augusta,’ Cleaver said. ‘Because then it gets pretty dark. The powers of the Antichrist will take control of the world. No pretending any more, right? They’ll just step in and take over. Anyone who protests will be slain. That’s the start of the great Tribulation. John tells us all about it in the Book of Revelation. Hail and fire and the destruction of the earth’s vegetation. The sea will turn to blood. Poisonous locusts. Mass torture. Billions of people killed most horribly. The faithful will be hideously persecuted as the Antichrist strives to gain complete dominion. Seven years of the most terrible, terrible suffering. It’ll make the Nazi holocaust look like a walk in the park.’

‘“Then there will be a time of anguish greater than any since nations first came into existence,”’ Ben said.

Cleaver nodded gravely and glanced at Miss Vale, who was gazing down at her plate with a look of distress glazed in her eyes. ‘But not for everyone,’ he said gently. ‘We can console ourselves that at some point during this time of Tribulation, the Bible tells us the faithful will be delivered from pain and torture.’

‘The Rapture,’ Ben said. ‘“For the Lord himself will come down from heaven with a commanding shout with the call of the archangel and the trumpet call of God. Then we will be caught up in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air and remain with him forever.”’

‘Amen,’ Miss Vale whispered.

Cleaver smiled at Ben. ‘I’m glad you’ve taken our Lord Jesus Christ into your heart, Benedict. It would pain me to think of you being left behind. Nobody’s getting out of the Tribulation alive.’

‘Then after the seven years are over, Christ returns to confront his enemy at the battle of Armageddon,’ Ben said.

‘That’s exactly right,’ Cleaver replied. ‘And then begins the golden period for all the Christians who held onto their faith through the dark times. They shall be richly rewarded.’

***

After dinner, they retired back to the drawing room, where a decanter of brandy and crystal glasses were set out on a tray. Miss Vale excused herself for a moment, and left the room.

‘This has been a very interesting discussion, Clayton,’ Ben said, settling into an armchair with his glass of brandy. ‘But there’s something else I wanted to talk to you about.’

Cleaver spread his arms. ‘Fire away, son.’

‘In fact, there’s someone I wanted to talk to you about.’

‘Is that a fact? And who might that be?’

‘That might be one Zoe Bradbury.’ Ben watched Cleaver’s face and let the words sink in.

Cleaver tried hard not to let his composure slip too far. ‘Uh-huh?’ He gulped a little.

‘You know who I’m talking about,’ Ben said.

‘I know of her,’ Cleaver said coolly, glancing at his fingernails. ‘She’s a friend of Augusta’s, I believe.’

‘And no friend of yours, apparently.’

Cleaver looked hard at Ben. ‘What exactly do you mean by that?’

‘I mean the twenty-five grand she got from you, and the ten million she wanted.’

Cleaver was quiet for a beat. ‘You know about that?’

‘And about Skid McClusky. I thought you might like to fill me in on some details I’m missing.’

‘Just who exactly the hell are you, mister?’

‘Someone looking for answers. Someone who’s going to get them.’

Cleaver toyed with his drink. His face had paled noticeably. ‘I think, uh, Benedict, this strikes me as the kind of topic that we ought to discuss elsewhere. In private.’

‘That’s fine with me,’ Ben said. ‘I’m sure you wouldn’t want Miss Vale hearing too much. That’s a sizeable investment you have there.’

Cleaver said nothing.

‘But don’t think you can get away from me,’ Ben continued. ‘You’re going to talk to me.’

The old lady came back in, followed by a maid carrying a silver tray with a coffee jug and three delicate white porcelain cups on little saucers. She smiled. ‘I’ve been thinking,’ she announced as she sat down. ‘I wondered whether our new friend would like to attend the tournament tomorrow.’

Cleaver laughed nervously. ‘Augusta, that wouldn’t be Benedict’s cup of tea. Him being English and all.’

Miss Vale blinked. ‘They don’t shoot rifles in England?’ She frowned at Cleaver. ‘Clayton, are you all right? You look as if you’d seen a ghost.’

‘I’m just fine, thank you,’ Cleaver said. ‘Maybe I overate a little.’

‘What kind of tournament?’ Ben asked.

Cleaver was fighting hard to stay natural in front of Miss Vale. ‘It’s just a little event I hold out at my place once a year,’ he said in a strangled voice. ‘But -’

Miss Vale chuckled. ‘A little event? Clayton’s being modest. All the best rifle shooters from across Georgia, Alabama and Mississippi take part. Twenty bucks a ticket, and we’re expecting over two thousand people.’

‘All strictly for charity, of course,’ Cleaver interjected, trying to smile.

‘Of course,’ Ben said, staring at him.

‘And this year all proceeds will be going to the Vale Trust Charity Hospital. That’s one of the many projects that my charity supports,’ Miss Vale explained, seeing Ben’s quizzical look ‘We help the poor and underprivileged families