The Left Behind Complete Set, Series 1-12

by Tim LaHaye

Buck said, “Chloe, you know I have your best interest at heart. I’d love for you to go. I never miss you more than when I’m away from you in Jerusalem.” “Then tell me why I can’t go.” “I would never forgive myself if something happened to you. I can’t risk it.” “I’m just as vulnerable here, Buck. Every day is a risk. Why are we allowed to risk your life and not mine?” Buck had no answer.

Hell yeah! You know it's bad when your own characters are sick of being given sexist roles in your books.

You’re going to need me. Who’s going to handle logistics?

I don't know, but I'm sure they'll get tons of pages devoted to them

“Hattie’s more independent than I am. She would want me to go. She can take care of herself.” Buck was losing, and he knew it. He looked away, unwilling to give in so soon. Yes, he was being protective.

Double hell yeah!

“Don’t parent me, Buck. Seriously, I don’t have a problem submitting to you because I know how much you love me. I’m willing to obey you even when you’re wrong. But don’t be unreasonable. And don’t be wrong if you don’t have to be. You know I’m going to do what you say, and I’ll even get over it if you make me miss out on one of the greatest events in history. But don’t do it out of some old-fashioned, macho sense of protecting the little woman. I’ll take this pity and help for just so long, and then I want back in the game full-time. I thought that was one of the things you liked about me.”

Feminism comes with baby steps, I guess

Pride kept him from agreeing right then. He’d give it a day or two and then tell her he’d come to a decision.

Buck, you asshole!

“Listen to her,” Tsion said. “You keep out of it,” Buck said, smiling. “I don’t need to be ganged up on. I thought you were on my side. I thought you would agree that this was no place for—” “For what?” Chloe said. “A girl? The ‘little woman’? An injured, pregnant woman? Am I still a member of the Tribulation Force, or have I been demoted to mascot now?” Buck had interviewed heads of state easier than this. “You can’t defend this one, Buck,” she added. “You want to just pin me while I’m down,” Buck said. “I won’t say another word,” she said. Buck chuckled. “That’ll be the day.”

I'm ready for Chloe to hobble out of this relationship and go become sister-moms with Hattie

Buck went to follow Tsion up the stairs, but Chloe called out to him. “C’mere a minute, big guy.” He turned to face her. She beckoned him closer. “C’mon,” she said. She lifted her arm, the one with the cast from shoulder to wrist, and hooked him with it behind the neck. She pulled his face to hers and kissed him long and hard. He pulled back and smiled shyly. “You’re so easy,” she whispered. “Who loves ya, baby?” he said, heading for the stairs again. “Hey,” she said, “if you see my husband up there, tell him I’m tired of sleeping alone.”

Barf

The signalman directed Mac to the edge of the carpet and crossed his coned flashlights to signify a slow stop. “Watch this,” Mac said. “Careful, you rascal,” Rayford said. At the last instant, Mac rolled over the end of the red carpet. “Did I do that?” he asked. “You’re bad.”

Cute flirting

“Ladies and gentlemen, the personal attendants from the office of the Supreme Pontiff of Enigma Babylon One World Faith!” The reaction was subdued as the crowd seemed to wonder if these two young people had names, and if so, why they were not mentioned.

Okay, this made me smirk

Rayford stood by the cockpit, waiting to start the postflight check when the folderol was over.

New word for my dictionary

“Another damsel in distress?” “As a matter of fact, yes.

[insert Picard facepalm reaction]

“So that’s what’s different?” Buck said. “That, and this.” Ken ran his hand through his hair again, and this time left it atop his head with his hair pulled out of the way. “Maybe it shows on my forehead. I can see yours. Can you see mine?”

Buck, Chloe, Tsion, and Ken huddled in the kitchen. Tsion put a hand on Ken’s back and looked up. “Lord God Almighty, your Word tells us the angels rejoice with us over Ken Ritz. We believe the prophecy of a great soul harvest, and we thank you that Ken is merely one of the first of many millions who will be swept into your kingdom over the next few years. We know many will suffer and die at the hands of Antichrist, but their eternal fate is sealed.

Tsion, nearly a foot shorter than Ken, put an arm around his waist.

Cute

Buck drew Chloe to him and enveloped her like a fragile china doll.

"Enveloped" makes me think of an octopus capturing its prey

“I know you’re coming right back, Buck, but I don’t like saying good-bye. Last time you left me I woke up in Minnesota.”

You should be so lucky again

“I’m waiting for the day I have no more stitches, cast, cane, or limp. I don’t know how you can stand to look at me.” Buck cupped her face in his hands. Her right eye was still black and purple, her forehead crimson. Her right cheek was sunken where teeth were missing, and her cheekbone was broken. “Chloe,” he whispered, “when I look at you I see the love of my life.” She started to protest and he shushed her.

Because of course he did

I could look at you until Jesus comes and still want to share eternity with you.”

Umm… thanks? Four or five years is a short-term commitment to have to look at a broken face.

Buck bent and kissed her between her eyes. Then their mouths met.

How do you make kissing sound this awkward?

“When I get healthy, you’re going to wish I’d stay home once in a while.”

This just tells me that Chloe will never be healthy enough to travel

While they talked, a couple of calls came over his radio, but not hearing his call letters or name, he ignored them.

Vital info I could not have lived without /s

He set his laptop near the cockpit window and sat on the tarmac surfing the Internet. He found Tsion’s bulletin board, which had become the talk of the globe.

Tsion continued to direct the attention of his growing flock to God himself. He added to his personal daily message a fairly deep Bible study aimed at the 144,000 witnesses. It warmed Rayford’s heart to read it, and he was impressed that a scholar was so sensitive to his audience. Besides the witnesses, his readers were the curious, the scared, the seekers, and the new believers. Tsion had something for everyone, but most impressive was his ability, as Bruce Barnes used to say, to “put the cookies on the lower shelf.”

The cookies are back! And not in a sexual way this time!

Tsion’s ability with the Scriptures, Rayford knew, had to do with more than just his facility with the languages and texts. He was anointed of God, gifted to teach and evangelize.

We get it, Tsion can write good

I sorrow personally over the loss of my precious wife and teenagers.

For generations people have called natural disasters “acts of God.” This has been a misnomer. Eons ago, God the Father conceded control of Earth’s weather to Satan himself, the prince and power of the air.

What? Why? Citation needed.

I have never hidden that I believe the very idea of a one-world government, or currency, or especially faith (or I should say nonfaith) is from the pit of hell. That is not to say that everything resulting from these unholy alliances will be obviously evil.

A friend and I, curious, turned on the television set. We were astounded. I expected an all-news network or perhaps also a local emergency station. But as I am sure you know by now, where television has returned, it is back full force. Our television accesses hundreds of channels from all over the world, beamed to it by satellite. Every picture on every channel representing every station and network available is transmitted into our home in images so crisp and clear you feel you could reach inside the screen and touch them. What a marvel of technology! But this does not thrill me. I admit I was never an avid TV watcher. I bored others with my insistence on watching educational or news programs and otherwise criticizing what was offered. I expressed fresh shock every month or so at how much worse television had become. I shall no longer apologize for my horror at what has become of this entertainment medium. Today, as my friend and I sampled the hundreds of stations, I was unable to even pause at most offerings, they were so overtly evil. Stopping even to criticize them would have subjected my brain to poison. I concede that approximately 5 percent was something as inoffensive as the news. (Of course, even the news is owned and controlled by the Global Community and carries its unique spin. But at least I was not subjected to vile language or lascivious images.) On virtually every other channel, however, I saw—in that split second before the signal changed—final proof that ...

Author-insert diatribe about TV bad

Is there one station that carries stories, comedies, variety shows, musical entertainment, education, anything religious other than Enigma Babylon One World Faith?

He's still going

I fear the day that technology will allow the Global Community to silence even this form of expression, which no doubt soon will be considered a crime against the state.

Those who pride themselves on tolerance and call us exclusivists, judgmental, unloving, and shrill are illogical to the point of absurdity.

"and shrill" lol

There are those who ask, why not cooperate? Why not be loving and accepting? Loving we are. Accepting we cannot be. It is as if Enigma Babylon is an organization of “one-and-only true” religions. It may be that many of these belief systems eagerly gave up their claims of exclusivity because they never made sense.

Those who pride themselves on “accepting” Jesus Christ as a great man, perhaps a god, a great teacher, or one of the prophets, expose themselves as fools.

But imagine if I announced to you that not only am I a believer, but that I am also God himself. Would that not negate every positive thing I have ever taught?

No, because that's not how ideas work

My challenge to you today is to choose up sides. Join a team.

before the glorious return of Christ

Someone is asleep at the keyboard, because for once they didn't use "Glorious Appearing"

And now a word to my fellow converted Jews from each of the twelve tribes:

THERE. ARE. ONLY. TWO. LEFT.

The clinic and the lab work hand in hand, and apparently there’s a lot of cloning and fetal tissue research going on.”

I demand clone Antichrist babies.

I called a little later and disguised my voice. I said my uncle was the janitor and could somebody get him to come to the phone. Pretty soon this guy came on and I told him I had a friend in there who forgot to give me her alias. I told him my husband was on the way there with a gift, but he would have to know whom to ask for to be able to get in. He wasn’t sure he ought to help until I told him my husband would give him a hundred dollars. He was so excited he gave me his name before he gave me the names of the four women staying there right now.”

Gee willikers, a whole hundred dollars! From an anonymous caller!

“I’ll give you all four just in case,” Chloe said, “but you’re gonna know right away which is hers.” “Don’t tell me she called herself something like Derby Bull.” “Nothing so creative. It’s just that with the makeup of the women represented, we got lucky. Conchita Fernandez, Suzie Ng, Mary Johnson, and Li Yamamoto.”

“What do you make of that, Mac?” “It’s pretty clear, Ray. They want to take you both out at once.

Oh, look, finally Rayford has some stakes to deal with

Rayford was not amused. “So he recruited you to be the new captain.” “Just about.” “And I’m going to be delayed. Well, isn’t that a nice way to say I’m going to be toast.”

Buck approached the receptionist. “Hi!” he said breezily. “I’m here to see Mary.” “Mary?” “Johnson. She’s expecting me.” “And who may I say is asking for her?” “Just tell her it’s B.” “Are you related?” “We soon will be, I think. I hope.”

Buck smiled as if exasperated.

smh

“You don’t happen to work for the Global Community, do you?” How she knew that was as puzzling as Hattie using an ethnic alias while an Asian girl was either named Mary Johnson or had selected that as her pseudonym.

None of us are likely to make it to the Glorious Appearing, but that’s been my goal since day one.

Oh, there it is

“These people have unlimited weapons,” Rayford said. “Are you armed?” “Yes, but they’re not going to risk shooting inside, are they?” “Why not? They care for no one but themselves. What are you carrying?” “Buck doesn’t know, and I’ve never had to use it, but I carry a Beretta anytime I fly for him.”

As the receptionist reached for the phone, the guards asked Buck to follow them down the hall. They entered a room labeled “Yamamoto.” Buck was afraid Hattie would say his name as soon as she saw him. She lay facing the wall. He couldn’t tell whether she was awake. “She’s going to be surprised to see her old captain,” Buck said. “She used to call me Buck for short. But in front of the crew and passengers, it was always Captain Steele. Yeah, she was my senior flight attendant at Pan-Con for many years. Always did a good job.”

Did a middle-schooler write this scene?

Buck heard nothing from Hattie’s room. The guards looked at each other. The older turned the doorknob. It was locked. He swore. Both yanked weapons from their jackets and banged loudly on the door, commanding Hattie to come out. Other women peeked from their rooms, including one from each end of the hall. The younger guard waved his Uzi at them and they ducked back in. The older burped four shots at Hattie’s door, blowing the latch and lock housing to the floor and causing screams down the hall. The receptionist came running, but when she appeared in the corridor, the younger guard sprayed a fusillade that ripped from her waist to her face. She dropped loudly onto the marble floor.

Swimming in his mind in slow motion were the curtains blowing from the open window in Hattie’s room, the riddled body of the receptionist, and the whites of the eyes of the guard when Buck drove his nose so deep into his head that it was flush with his face.

What a sentence!