TUESDAY, APRIL 18 – It was only midafternoon, but already it was gloriously dark to Balzor. One of Satan's most experienced demons, Balzor was not visible to human eyes. But he was no less real. And just like a devastating, invisible wind, he was no less deadly. From his vantage point high above the northwest section of the city—his personal responsibility for forty years now—the sun's position was really irrelevant. His whole area had grown progressively darker during his years there, and he was immensely proud of his accomplishments. As he shifted his dark form and exhaled a breath of broiling sulfur, he watched his minions going about their tasks below, content that the long war was now almost won.
Everything was proceeding according to Balzor's grand strategy: Richard's affair with Kristen, Tommy's growing estrangement from his parents, Amy's fateful date with Billy, and Janet's initial concern with Tom Spence about the upcoming “911 Live.” Almost everything, that is. One thing Balzor hadn't counted on was that those in charge of the prayer breakfast would drench all of their plans and activities with prayer. Because they did, the prayer breakfast was different, as was much of what happened afterwards.
WEDNESDAY, MAY 3 – Two weeks later, just after Richard came home from work on the Wednesday evening before the prayer breakfast and said hello to Susan, Amy, and Bobbie, who were upstairs talking and doing their homework, Bobbie left to go home in her family's station wagon, and Susan told Amy goodbye in their turnaround. The telephone rang and Tommy answered it. “It's for you, Dad.”
“Hello.”
“Hi, Richard. This is Bob Meredith. How are you doing?”
“Fine, Bob. Hey, Bobbie just left a few minutes ago, and she should be home very soon.”
“Thanks, Richard. Dinner's almost ready, so I'm glad she's on the way. But that's not really the reason I'm calling. Listen, I'd like to pick you up in the morning and drive you to our prayer breakfast. I know it might seem a little bit strange, but it's a tradition we're starting, and I'd like you to be my guest for the ride in.”
“Well, that's fine, Bob. But isn't it a lot of trouble? How will my car get to the office?”
“Don't worry…. Just bring your keys with you, and we'll have your car parked in your regular garage space when you get to the office.”
Richard was stunned and a little concerned about all the trouble involved, but Bob persisted, and so he agreed.
“Great. I'll pick you up tomorrow morning right about 7:00. We're really looking forward to the prayer breakfast. See you then, Richard.”
As Richard hung up the phone, he thought, Someone sure is going to a lot of trouble. I didn't realize a prayer breakfast required so much organization!
Nepravel, who came through Richard's breakfast room near the end of the conversation, was infuriated. He and the other demons had been battling the prayer breakfast for almost two months now, since they had first learned of it. But, with few exceptions, the organization was very strong; and the prayer support was so intense that they were only able to learn bits and pieces of the details from conversations such as the one he had just overheard. He knew that Balzor, already in a terrible state because of the prayer breakfast, would not like this latest news.
The midnight gathering over the city in those last few hours before the prayer breakfast was chaotic. The demons had never seen Balzor so furious. For two months his anger and frustration had grown, since he had first learned that the prayer breakfast had been in the planning stages for six weeks, without any of his demons picking up a hint from any source.
“You should have suspected something from all the prayers coming from those three churches—and from that infernal church in Pittsburgh!” Balzor had screamed at his lieutenants. “…Even if they do pray all the time about everything!”
And the angels. They had started appearing a month before, boldly positioning themselves at the Palace Hotel, around the homes of the prayer breakfast leaders, in the offices and conference rooms where the organizational meetings were held, even taking up roving patrols through the homes of the men who had been invited! The result had been disastrous for Balzor's demons, who were constantly on the defensive, even in their own neighborhoods. They had to be looking over their shoulders to guard against attacks from God's holy angels, who were actually able to reintrench in parts of the city, as if it were forty years ago!
And with each passing day, as it became apparent that the demons would not be able to attack the prayer breakfast directly, the suggestions of Balzor's lieutenants became much less numerous, and each demon stayed as far away from Balzor as possible. But distance was not possible at the midnight meetings.
Looking down from their high vantage point, Balzor and his demons were sickened that night to see so many angels concentrated in their sector of the city. At least forty angels surrounded the Palace Hotel, claiming it as holy ground and daring a demon to be foolhardy enough to venture nearby. In addition, they could see the sharp bolts of angels’ light around churches and homes and roving through the neighborhoods, making it very difficult for streetleaders like Zloy and Nepravel to tend to the voices of deception in these last critical hours.
Balzor, enraged by the show of God's power in his sector, was examining his own future and looking for someone to blame. “All streetleaders will check and build up the voices in every invitee tonight. We can see the answered prayers arriving in these homes even now, and we must spin the voices up before these men arrive at that prayer breakfast!”
All the demons nodded silently, except one. “But there are so many angels around now,” complained Streetleader Plagor, who was responsible for a neighborhood just to the south of Nepravel's Devon Drive. “I was almost caught twice this evening.”
Balzor, whose fury had been pent up for days, locked his demonic gaze on Plagor, rose up, and sailed toward him. Plagor, regretting that he had spoken out, cowered down as Balzor closed in on him, and the other demons around him moved back.
“Those angels missed, but I won't!” screamed Balzor, and the blast of fiery heat he unleashed from his mouth burned Plagor to a crisp. He disappeared in an instant, blown back to hell.
Turning in a circle over the ashes that had been Plagor, Balzor snarled at the rest of his demonic forces, “Now, is anyone else going to complain about my orders to maintain your voices?” There was total silence. “Toron, you're now the streetleader in that neighborhood. Do you have any complaints?” Toron bowed his head in silent submission.
Balzor resumed his normal station. “Without control of the Palace Hotel, we may lose many souls tomorrow. A lot will depend on how much Pride and Confusion can keep spinning in these men before they arrive. But after the prayer breakfast, we'll have to redouble our efforts with those who are not saved at the breakfast. And with any of those who we do lose tomorrow to heaven, we'll have to be sure to isolate them with Apathy and Unworthiness, so they won't affect anyone else. Are there any other reports?”
There was only silence from the demons, except for the normal hissing that accompanied them wherever they went.
“Then be off now to your neighborhoods. Be careful, but turn up those voices!”
All during the night a rotating group of volunteer Prayer Warriors from the three churches maintained a prayer vigil in the room they had rented at the Palace Hotel, praying by name for the salvation of each one of the men who had been invited to the breakfast. Praying for the speaker, Benjamin Fuller. And praying for divine protection during this important battle in their city in the spiritual war.
Nepravel and Zloy were hugging the roof of a bar in the commercial center that separated their two neighborhoods, watching all the incoming prayer cover and knowing that any voices still left turning inside the invitees in their neighborhoods would be weak, at best.
“I haven't seen so many answered prayers in years and years,” Zloy cursed. “I'm sure glad it's not like this all the time!”
“You and me both!” agreed Nepravel. “Look, let's work together and protect each other. I'll go with you to your neighborhood and stand watch against angels while you spin up your voices—then you do the same for me.”
“Sounds good. It'll take all night that way, but perhaps we'll survive!” grumbled Zloy, as they headed out.