The Regime: Evil Advances by Tim Lahaye, Jerry B. Jenkins Read Free Book Online Page B

remember.”
    The old woman nodded. “They need to read the next verse too.”
    “Do you remember it?”
    “Of course. Both of them. ‘For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.’ But here’s the best part: ‘being justified freely by His grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.’”
    “That is beautiful, Mom.”
    “Yes, it is. John 1:12.”
    “Beg pardon?”
    “That’s the address of the first one, Chloe.”
    “Irene.”

SEVEN

    Ion was killed in rural Moldova when his brakes failed and he plowed into first a gas truck and then a horse-drawn wagon.
    Nicolae attended the funeral, sent a lavish spray of flowers, and attempted to console the grieving widow, who clearly wanted nothing to do with him. He thawed her by whispering that he was establishing a fund for their only child, a sixteen-year-old son, so his college expenses would be covered. She reached to embrace him, and over her shoulder, Nicolae caught Emil Tismaneanu’s eye.
    Tismaneanu was more than twice Carpathia’s age and dressed and comported himself like the successful businessman and politician he was. Nicolae excused himself from the widow and made his way to Tismaneanu for an awkward handshake.

    “Thanks so much for informing me before raiding my ranks,” Nicolae whispered.
    “Raiding?” Tismaneanu said softly with a smile. “It’s not like I stole one of your cabinet. I wouldn’t do that to you without your knowledge. As quickly as Ion was available, I assumed you knew he was not happy there.”
    “Little gets past me,” Nicolae said. “But let me assure you, should I ever come after one of your employees, you will hear it from me first.”
    “Don’t bother. No one who works for me would want to work for you.”
    “They might when I am a deputy from Bucharest.”
    Emil stepped back and raised an eyebrow. “Is that an announcement?”
    “Apparently to you it is.”
    “Your mother is a born-again Christian, Rayford,” Irene said.
    He closed his eyes and rubbed his face. “You don’t say. Like you?”
    “I do say, and yes, like me.”
    “So I’m surrounded.”
    “Yep. Might as well give up and give in.” Irene smiled, trying to keep things light.
    “Not a chance.”
    “Rafe, I’m only teasing you. Don’t make it a competition

    where you feel like you would be losing if you decided to do the right thing.”
    “Meaning pray to Jesus and tell Him I want to be like you.”
    “I really don’t like when you’re sarcastic about this. You know how much it means to me.”
    “I sure do. And you should know by now how much that annoys me.”
    “It shouldn’t. Your mother was quite—”
    “So you weren’t kidding about my mother.”
    “No, she was very clear and—”
    “My mother is demented, Irene. Alzheimer’s is on the horizon. Half the time she doesn’t know who or where she is. How can you put stock in anything she says?”
    “Because she quoted verses and knew their addresses.”
    “Their addresses?”
    Irene explained.
    “She’s pulling memories from her childhood at random,” Rayford said. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying, what she believes, even what she remembers. Her brain is like a jukebox, and the selector arm reaches into her memory banks for a slice of this and a slice of that, putting them together in jumbles that sometimes seem to make sense. I’m surprised you give her any credence.”
    “You should hear her.”
    “That’s not fair. You know how busy I’ve been.”
    “I’m not commenting on your visitation habits, Rafe. I’m just saying you should hear what she says and decide for yourself. You know there are visiting hours every day

    of the week, even on your off days. Even Saturdays and Sundays.”
    “When I’m playing golf, you mean.”
    “She’d love to see you.”
    “Thanks for that guilt trip.”
    “If the shoe fits …”
    Rayford stormed from the room.
    Irene chastised herself. There had to be a better way to communicate with