Dawn of Tears - 30. Chapter 30

Note to Readers: There have been few times that gifted have openly faced each other in combat. When it has happened, it's rarely been anything but bloody and deadly for regular humans. That's one of the reasons we try to limit such things from happening. If we didn't, humanity might never have survived.

"What the fuck's going on?" Paul demanded as soon as we entered the small room where our communications gear had been set up. Roger Killmer's blond hair was offset by the headset he was wearing, and he covered the mouth piece as soon as he heard us enter. He had a look of anger on his face as he faced us.

"Their new duty shift was just coming in and Jennifer was checking them when she called out the codeword." Killmer said in a harsh voice. "The group that was coming in was the first that were allowed to go home since the assassination. The presumption everyone is working on is that it was a suicide bomb. EMS is just getting on the scene. The new Prime Minister's alright, but more than that I can't get yet. Carrolls was on duty with Thoreau as her escort."

"Well at least we know Carrolls is still alive." I said in a husky whisper and noticed Killmer was staring at me oddly.

"Dylan felt Thoreau die." Paul explained and Killmer nodded. He also let out a sigh of relief as he turned back towards the radio set he was connected to and twiddled with the dials for a moment.

"EMS is onsite now." Killmer said softly, an almost palpable guilt audible in his voice. I could understand that. He was probably relieved that Carrolls, who was Mormon like him and a good friend of his was okay while he also felt guilty that he was relieved that Carrolls was alive while Thoreau wasn't. I was kind of relieved the same way as well, even though Carrolls was still having a hard time dealing with some issues related to the bonding. He'd been a fairly devout Mormon and had been conflicted for a while over feeling sexually attracted to other men in our circle. Still, he was a very nice guy and I enjoyed having him around. A part of me knew my thoughts were rambling and I forced my mind to think through the problems at hand.

"Paul, have Darby get into his fatigues and get him a rifle." I ordered softly and everyone in the room looked at me, waiting for me to finish this line of thought. "I want Davies and Darby to take Alan to the Prime Minister. They stay with him and make sure he stays secure. Get the rest of the team ready to move out. Have Cyrus and Botha take over the communications here. Martha, you and Knight get to the hospital and make sure Carrolls pulls through, and Jennifer if she survived also. Stop by the room and tell Jimmy to get my field uniform and web gear ready."

"You're not going to the mosque." Paul stated flatly. "Once word of this gets out, the Palestinians are going to be celebrating like mad. We'll wait a few days for things to calm down a bit."

"Killmer, tell the Israeli liaison that we'll need armored back up and they might as well get the attack helicopters ready in case we need them as well." I ordered as if Paul hadn't spoken. He started to speak, but I raised my hand for silence and he shut his mouth. "I also think that having a medivac helicopter might be a smart idea. Paul, these fuckers have killed three of my circle now. I'm going and there's nothing you can say or do to make me change my mind. Don't make me force you to obey."

"Dylan, please, don't do this." Paul pleaded but I just stared at him. Killmer was already talking into his headset after changing a frequency. Martha just nodded and left to carry out the tasks I'd given her. Paul continued staring but finally dropped his gaze when he saw I wasn't going to back down.

"Get the team ready, Paul." I said softly. "We bring everyone that can handle a gun. I want Jimmy and Neil staying here, though, and checking the employees. Have two of the marines go with them with that other black box you rigged up. I want us ready to go in thirty minutes. I'm going to have a little chat with the ambassador."

"Yes sir." Paul said softly, with no hint of irony or sarcasm in his voice. I let out a sigh at the expression on his face.

"Paul, you've kept me well-trained and in good shape." I told him in a soft tone. "Alan has neither the training nor the experience I have. If we wait for things to calm down, they might move, they might get to the clerics loyal to Khulari or any number of things. We end this now, today, before they have a chance to blow me up as well. I'm trusting you and the others to get me in there, and out without me dying."

"One hour." Paul said firmly and with a nod. I was out of the room after that and moved at a very brisk walk to the Ambassador's office. It was still early in the morning, but the man was likely to be there already. I was right because when I walked into his office he wore a very grim expression on his face.

"You probably found out before I did about the explosion." He said simply and I nodded at him soberly.

"I was just on my way to inform you." I said and he let out an explosive breath.

"This isn't going to be too good. Have you had any word on your people yet?" He said after taking in another deep breath.

"Just the code word when Jennifer's detector picked something up on one of the guards." I answered, keeping it in line with the cover story we had developed for Jennifer's 'test' of the guard staff. "I'll have two of my staff checking all embassy employees before they enter for work this morning and I'm sending Martha to the hospital if anyone survives. We finally have a strong lead on the perpetrators and we're going in to get them in an hour. I'm going with the team since the contact is through some channels that I'll need to be there for when getting the information we need."

"I'm not too sure that's the best thing to do." The ambassador's statement wasn't surprising to me at all.

"It's what will happen." I told him forcefully. "I'm an officer in the Army as well as the President's son. I'll be fine. I'm also sending Alan with our reserve tester and two guards to the Prime Minister."

"He'll appreciate that." The ambassador said slowly. "Shouldn't you check with the Presidio before you go out into the field?"

"Nice try, but no. I already have the authorization I need for this." I told him and he sighed again.

"Good luck." He said and I smiled at him before leaving without saying anything more.

By the time I reached my room, both Jimmy and Neil were already gone, sent on the missions I had assigned through Paul. My gear, desert fatigues, web gear, weapons, and a radio set were all laid out on the bed and I quickly changed out of my civilian clothes and into the gear. The most important piece was the shoulder holstered Beretta pistol that I put on over my t-shirt and under my uniform tunic. When I was dressed and ready, I opened the door to my room and found Killmer and Kevins waiting outside.

"Everyone's assembling in the courtyard." Kevins told me in a gruff voice, and as we walked in a small group to the embassy's courtyard, I noticed that both of them were walking with an extra edge of alertness. The courtyard was a bee-hive of activity as everyone prepped the gear we'd brought with us, checking the communications equipment and signal booster that we'd take with us, as well as making sure the heavier weapons we had were also ready in case they were needed.

"Look, we appreciate the offer, but we've got enough men with us right now." Paul was telling the Marine officer in charge of embassy security. "You just make sure that everyone who comes in here is tested by the team we're leaving behind."

"If that's your final decision, then so be it." The Marine said sourly before walking away.

"We ready Paul?" I asked as I approached him and he looked at me for a moment before nodding.

"We're just stowing our gear in the vehicles now." Paul stated with a nod towards where that was now being done. "We've got a twenty minute drive to the IDF base. From there we're taking choppers to Jerusalem where we'll hitch a ride with two armored vehicles. They'll take us to the site and standby. They'll have rescue and attack helicopters on standby as well as two platoons of armored cavalry ready to help if we call them in. We're on different circuits though so I'm bringing Cyrus with us to stay in the armored vehicles. He'll relay to the local commander for us. I'm having Terries come over from the plane to cover for him here."

"Let's get moving then." I said firmly and within a few minutes we wereon the way. The convoy of vehicles drove through a city that was walking on eggshells. It was now mid-morning and people looked at us nervously as we moved past them in the embassy vehicles. The news of the bomb explosion had begun to circulate, and the new Prime Minister had appeared on television and radio to show he was unhurt. Still, the event had brought tensions to a boiling point again, and there were reports of minor scuffles already in the Palestinian zones.

"Martha should be at the hospital soon." Paul said as we rode side by side in the back seat of the car. "We've already gotten word that Jennifer and Thoreau were both declared dead at the scene. Carrolls is in critical condition with penetration wounds from fragments and some burns. Four Israelis including the bomber died and another eight are seriously wounded. Six more have minor wounds that were treated at the site."

"Damn." I said softly, thinking of Jennifer who was just a little younger than me. "Dad's not going to like having to explain her death. It probably won't go over well at the school either."

"It'll go over worse if you die as well." Paul said firmly and I frowned at him.

"Paul, I'm not changing my mind." I said firmly and he sighed.

"How exactly do you want to approach this?" Paul asked me softly, giving up on the idea of keeping me from being involved.

"This mosque we're heading to has three entrances." I said as I called up my memory of the drawings of it I'd seen a few days ago. "We'll secure the main entrance area. Park the vehicles in front and deploy in a perimeter. Most likely they'll send someone to ask what's going on. Have Tapers get on a bullhorn and keep any onlookers calmed down. I'll tell whoever comes that I want to speak to the head Mullah in charge of the mosque and go inside. I'll remove my belt pistol before going in, get the information we need and then we'll pull out, going to wherever our targets are. Have the attack helicopters rendezvous with us there and we kill anything that moves in the area."

"You can't go inside this place alone." Paul stated flatly and his gaze was very sharp.

"I'm playing off of the image of my talks the other week with Khulari." I said as firmly as I could. "That means me, alone, apparently unarmed. Since these guys already talked to Khulari's people and got orders to help, we know the targets haven't been there to subvert them. They won't risk violence in the mosque itself, so it's safe. If something does happen, I have my hidden weapon and my communications gear. Paul, it's an acceptable risk."

"I thought I was to be the judge of acceptable and unacceptable risks when it comes to your security." Paul argued. "Have you forgotten Utah already?"

"No, I haven't." I retorted hotly. "Have you forgotten that I still made it out of there, and it was a lot more dangerous than this?"

"Fine, but if there's even the slightest hint of trouble, you better call us in." Paul said. "I also want your promise that you'll stay with the track when we get to the target area. You're staying where it's safest then."

"Deal." I said firmly and with a nod of my head. He relaxed slightly.

The flight to Jerusalem in the Israeli helicopters was longer than it would have been in a plane, but still not too long to be uncomfortable. At least it gave us time to refine the basic plan and make up some code words in case of different things going wrong. The radio gear was a modified version of the standard Secret Service set. It had a pale earpiece that was almost invisible, and a button transmitter that was attached to the lapel of my uniform instead of the cuff, and could be set to transmit on voice activation. That would be the setting it would be left on when I entered the mosque.

When we landed at the Israeli army base, another speed bump was encountered in the form of the Israeli General in charge of the area. Ruth Sarone was a short woman, and had a fierce expression on her face when we met her. When she returned our salute, she told us in a firm, gravelly voice to follow her. She led Paul and I into a nearby building where the three of us stood in a room, alone.

"You can't go into the mosque area." She said when we were alone. The room wasn't air conditioned and in the fall heat it was stifling. I could feel the sweat beading on my face as we faced her. Unlike mine, her face was dry despite the heat.

"Why not, ma'am?" I asked her politely.

"The situation is far too unstable." She said firmly. "Armored vehicles and troops sitting in front of that mosque right now would start a wildfire of rumors that we were arresting or killing the clerics there."

"We'll put an American flag on the vehicle." Paul said and she looked at him thoughtfully. "We'll also use loudspeakers to tell them that we're Americans here to talk to the clerics about making sure they are safe."

"They won't believe that." She said firmly. My patience was running out. We had to move before they went to ground or found out the clerics were being told to betray their location. If they did that, they'd likely move on the clerics, taking them under control. Either scenario was bad for me.

"It will have to do." I said just as firmly as she had spoken a moment before and I could see her getting ready to argue. "There will be no argument ma'am. Every moment we delay puts your Prime Minister and your government in direct danger. Have your troops on standby and ready to move in. Just do what you can if we run into trouble. It's on my head, not yours."

"Why don't you just send your people in instead of going yourself?" She demanded.

"The clerics there have been directed by Khulari to talk to me." I told her and her eyes went wide.

"How do you know that?" She demanded sharply.

"Intercepted communications for which we've broken the cipher." I explained, and continued before she could say something more. "Our people here broke the code a while ago and haven't followed their orders to share information fully with you. We'll have to look into that after this is over. They have orders from the President for full cooperation with you and haven't been doing so. I'm as pissed about that as you probably are right now. We have a mission though, and every moment we delay, we're risking failure."

"I've got two armored tracks for you to use in getting there." She said after a few moments of silence while she considered what I had said. "I'll have two platoons standing by to move in and the gunships will be sitting on the pad with rotors turning."

"Where do we load up?" Paul asked as she took a radio out and began to issue orders in Hebrew.

"The vehicles will be here in a moment. The officers all speak English as do most of the crew." She told him and we both saluted before she waved us out of the building. I wasn't too surprised when Kevins brought out a flag from one of his bags and started fastening it to the lead vehicle. Within two minutes, we were loaded and moving off into the city itself.

Part of me wanted to climb up into the open copula and look at the city we were passing through. Jerusalem was one of the holiest cities in the world, the holiest city of so many religions. Somewhere nearby was Golgotha, the hill where Christ was crucified. For centuries, the Catholic Church had sent thousands of crusaders to this town in the name of Christendom, and more blood had flowed here than most other parts of the world.

Would more blood flow today?

The question was idiotic, I thought to myself as we passed some kind of checkpoint. Of course blood would flow because we were here to kill the two kids known as Rahlil and Sofia. Anyone bonded to them would die at the moment they did, but no one else had to if we played our cards right. If we did set a riot off, the Israelis would have an excuse to kill a few thousand Palestinians again. The General had probably been more worried about my safety than about the safety of Palestinians, and the excuse to unleash their guns again would probably make most of her troops happy.

Unlike the days before the Crisis, most nations really didn't care what happened between the Palestinians and Israel. I think most of them gave up on doing anything to resolve the millennia old dispute between them and since no real oil was involved, the rest of the world just turned a blindeye. Fortunately for Israel, the United States remained interested, and fortunately for the Palestinians the UIC backed them up as well. The biggest difference was that Israel and the United States had better weapons, better training, and better technology on their side. A banging sound resounded through the vehicle, and repeated itself a few times when the officer in command of the vehicle closed his hatch and swore before turning to us.

"Kids with rocks." He explained briefly. "We are about five minutes from our destination. No gunshots, but you can assume they know we are coming by now."

"Tapers, get on that loudspeaker and start telling them we're Americans." Paul ordered and Tapers made his way towards the vehicle commander inside the cramped compartment. He almost fell when we turned, but Davies helped him stay on his feet. When he took the microphone from the vehicle commander he started speaking rapidly in Arabic. The sound reverberated through the vehicle as it bounced off the surrounding buildings. The rocks stopped for a bit and when the Israeli officer poked his head back out of the vehicle he nodded, shouting down that there was no one around anymore.

However, when we pulled up to the front entrance of the mosque, a gun battle almost began the moment we deployed out of the vehicle. Fortunately, Tapers was the first out and started shouting in Arabic at the four armed guards outside the mosque entrance. One of them shouted something back to him as the rest of our men deployed barriers around the two vehicles for when the expected crowd showed. After several minutes of arguing, one of the four men disappeared and Tapers came to where I was standing, surrounded by Paul and two others in case someone started shooting.

"He said he's going to get one of the clerics." Tapers said with a sigh. "He didn't believe me that Khulari himself told you to come here, so I offered to get the good Ayatollah on the radio. He rethought his idea about telling us to leave at that point."

"Good." I said flatly, and we waited for a few minutes. The same guard reappeared a few minutes later and spoke rapidly in Arabic to Tapers who got a stony look on his face.

"He says they'll only let you in and you have to remove your weapons." Tapers said quietly after the man had stopped speaking. "He also wants to remind you that your helmet and radio would be…impolite."

"No problem." I said with a nod, removing the pistol belted around my waist, then my helmet and the radio earpiece. I put the pistol belt and radio into the helmet and handed them to Paul who just gave me a guarded look. The guard who had spoke still barred the way though, and I let out a sigh before removing the knife from my belt and putting it in the helmet.

"Testing." I said softly while my back was turned and Paul just nodded. I wouldn't be able to hear them without an earpiece, but the microphone was still attached and they'd hear everything I was saying. I still had the pistol in my shoulder holster, another knife and an expandable baton hidden away as well. When I turned back around, the Arabic guard nodded and said something that needed no translation as he moved off.

As we moved into the ancient mosque, I could feel the two knots of tension from the two of my circle who had somehow been bonded more closely than the others. Killmer was the closest of the two, and I could feel that tension rising even more by the time I was shown into a largish room where three older clerics waited in their dark robes. The guard behind me left as soon as I entered the room and shut the door behind him. The room had several columns in it, as well as several oval doors spread about plus some tapestries that I wanted to get a closer look at because they looked old and fascinating. Besides the three men before me, there was no one in the room.

"What business do you have here, with us, Dylan Jacobs of the Unites States?" The man who stood in the center of the three of them asked after I'd looked around the room for a moment. His English was heavily accented, but clearly understandable.

"I apologize for arriving in the transportation I did." I said instead of directly answering his question. I knew how deep the rivalry and hatred between Palestinian and Israeli was, and knew these men were Palestinian. No matter what their orders from Khulari, the fact that there were two Israeli army vehicles parked out front would be a negative in my dealing with them, and I wanted to minimize that as quick as I possibly could. "They insisted on these vehicles instead of decent cars like I would have preferred. I am not your enemy, nor do I wish to be, and I know I would react negatively to such an arrival if I were in your place. I know my apology is not much, but I hope you will accept it as it is all I can give at the moment."

"Why did you come here then?" The man to the left asked in barely understandable English and in a nasty tone. "Americans are the lapdogs of Israel. You do not blink an eye when they kill us!"

"The ways of the world are always changing." I said in order to give them a very false hope. "The Grand Ayatollah and I have had many talks in recent days, and I have learned much that I hope to share with my father when I return to my home."

"If you have learned anything from our revered leader it would be best that you return sooner rather than linger here." The man on the right said in nearly perfect English.

"I will return home as soon as my work here is done." I said firmly and the man in the center looked at me sharply.

"Then tell us why you come here so you may be on your way." The center cleric said softly.

"You know why I am here." I told him firmly and when there was no immediate protest, just a raising of eyebrows and a frown discernable despite the long white beard, I continued on in that firm, clear voice. "I am looking for two children. They are an abomination before God, and no matter how you may agree with the results of their actions, their actions are an abomination before God. Of that fact, the Ayatollah and I are in perfect agreement, though we disagree somewhat in the wisdom of the acts they have performed."

"What makes you think we have any such knowledge of these children?" The cleric on the right asked in his perfect English while the other two shared thoughtful looks.

"You know much of what goes on here, and their presence is not something that would escape your notice." I said softly.

"If we were to tell you, that would only make us targets for your Israeli friends." The center cleric said. I recalled the information from his file. Mustaffah al-Kharleb was his name. He was the religious head of the Palestinian people, and was believed to have had strong ties to Hamas and their splinter groups. He had reached his position after the assassination of his two predecessors in recent years, and was obviously worried about his own neck.

"The Israeli government has been told that there will be no retaliation for the events of the past few weeks." I informed them in a calm, firm voice. "If any retaliation is made, they will face the…ire…of the American government and our continued assistance in the form of fuel will have to be reconsidered. Don't mistake me, we will not fail to support them, but we will cut back their fuel supplies enough that the civilian market will not receive much, if any. That should be enough to see that those in power who ignored our warnings are replaced by others who will be more willing to accept such restrictions."

"But we will still be dead." Mustaffah al-Kharleb noted and I shrugged slightly.

"And you would be the last to be killed in such a way for some time." I noted and he nodded after a few minutes. That point was something that no amount of education with Harvard professors or at the school itself had taught me. In many situations, the death of an individual could lead to bigger rewards for the broad picture, and so a person in that situation would be willing to sacrifice their life. The last man in a squad holding a key position would fight to the death so that his squad mates could get away was such an example. So was the suicide bomber who furthered the cause by blowing himself (or herself) up. History was replete with such examples, not the least of which was Jesus Christ himself, dying not more than a few miles from where I stood to save all of humanity from hell. It was no wonder that people in this land seemed to understand such a principle almost from the crib while many Americans never learned it at all.

"They were staying in a safe house near Tel Aviv as of yesterday." Mustaffah said after considering my words for a few moments. "We have been told that they have moved though. As soon as we hear where they are now, we will send a runner to you. Please tell the Israelis not to shoot him."

"How many people are with them?" I asked politely and he opened his mouth to answer, but was interrupted by a stutter of gunfire. I recognized it as being from an AK-47 and dropped to the ground as fast as the three men did. Palestine was not a place where people grew up not knowing to duck when gunfire sounded so close.

"Stay still." The cleric on the right said to me as he drew a radio out of robes. Before he could speak into it, though, one of the side doors opened and several armed guards came pouring in. One pointed his rifle at me but the others went to the clerics who were now sitting up.

"I'm not hurt, but having that rifle pointed at me is making me nervous." I said aloud, mostly for Paul and those listening. I didn't want them starting a gunfight to get me out unless it was absolutely necessary. Mustaffah spoke quickly to the agitated guard and the man who had been on his right spoke to me after a moment.

"Someone has entered the grounds and killed two guards." The man said with a very angry tone, motioning for me to get back on my feet. "We are not sure who they are, but they appear to be Palestinian."

"It might be agents of those I'm after." I answered immediately and he nodded, as did the other two clerics. "They might know you would tell me where they are and decided to stop you. I offer you my protection if you wish."

"This man will escort you to your vehicles." Mustaffah said, pointing to the guard who had pointed his weapon at me but was now watching the door I had entered through. The other guards looked anxious to get the clerics out of here. "We have our own means of staying unharmed. We will send you word on these…people as soon as we can."

"Go with God." I said in Arabic, one of the phrases I'd picked up on this trip, and all three held their hands in their version of prayer briefly before moving towards the door the guards had entered. It burst open again before he'd taken one step and before I'd fully turned away. This time four guards, dressed the same as the ones in the room flowed inside and something about the expressions on their faces set off the alarms in my head. This time when I dropped to the floor and rolled, I pulled my pistol out from the hidden shoulder holster and flicked off the safety. While I was doing that, one of the new guards spotted me and opened fire with his weapon. I kept rolling, praying he wouldn't be smart enough to anticipate my move and the first burst of fire missed me by mere inches.

The guards already in the room raised their weapons at this, all facing the newcomers. The other three new arrivals didn't waste time though, and their shots took down the men who had arrived earlier just as the three clerics dropped to the ground again, shouting in Arabic something that sounded like orders to stop firing. The man who had fired at me wasn't listening, and if the look on his face was any indication, he wasn't going to stop as he moved his rifle slightly, adjusting his aim to where I was still rolling. That was all I needed though, and I fired two rounds, hitting him squarely in the chest. He was knocked backwards, and I noticed there was no sign of blood.

He was wearing body armor.

My next two rounds took another man squarely in the head before he could react. I had reached the column I was rolling towards and moved into a crouch just as the other two new arrivals opened fire. Their rounds splattered into the column and I breathed a quick prayer of thanks that it was thick stone and the bullets didn't go right through it and into me. I could hear the scuffling of feet as the burst of fire stopped briefly and peered around the column quickly. One of the men was almost directly in front of me, but it took him longer to adjust his aim than it did me and my two shots hit him squarely in the head as I took off at a sprint for the next column. The other man wasn't as good a shot when his target was moving as he was when his target was standing still and I made it safely, finally remembering I had an open microphone on.

"Paul, four men burst in and opened fire." I breathed rapidly towards the lapel of my uniform where the microphone was hidden. I paid attention to the sound of moving feet carefully as I spoke. "Four possible zombies, two down, one possible down, and one up. Possible zombie situation. Do not approach; wait for me with three friendlies."

After I said the last I realized the footsteps had gotten a lot closer. I could now hear the sound of someone breathing harshly close by and let myself slide down the column so that I was in a crouch. Just as I did so, a rifle appeared around the edge of the column and started firing right into the air where I had been standing. The noise was deafening, but I reacted quickly, rolling onto the ground and as soon as the target appeared I opened fire. My first two rounds hit him in the leg, and his rifle swung in my direction again before I let loose with another round that hit him in the arm. I rolled as the arm jerked and the rifle began firing wildly. My next shot hit him in the head and I breathed a sigh of relief as he fell to the ground and his rifle was silent. A stinging sensation in my leg announced I'd been hit, but a quick check proved it to be a graze wound. Still, the leg gave a little as I stood and rushed to the three clerics who were getting up. Seeing them helping each other to their feet, I rushed to the first man I'd shot. He was still breathing, and I kicked his rifle away as he tried to rise. Then I planted my boot on his chest, pistol pointed into his face and knelt as if I was checking his pulse. My bare fingers touching his neck told me all I needed to know.

Mindful of what had happened with Khulari and how it had led to having to reveal information about our gifts I reached into one of my pockets pulling out a black plastic case that was in reality a battery pack for a laptop computer. I pushed one of the ends against the man's neck, my finger touching his skin and exerted my power just enough to break the controls on him. When the power holding him in its control was broken, I removed the battery pack and stood, moving away from him cautiously. The man stared at me for a moment before speaking rapidly to the three clerics in Arabic. The men looked at him and then looked at me several times while I kept my eye on the door the guards had come through.

"He says two children came through the side entrance and made magic on them that convinced them you were here to turn us to the devil." Mustaffah said when the man was done talking. "He says they will be coming in a moment once they have cured the others of your evil influence, and he says that you did something that drove the magic out of him so he can think on his own."

"It's not magic, but technology." I said quickly. "The device you saw eliminates the effect of that technology on those it is used on. I'm afraid that I must ask you to reconsider not coming with me. We don't have much time if they're using it on your own people."

"We will go with you." Mustaffah said after a quick dialogue with the other two in Arabic. I bent down, offering a hand to the guard I had shot, but whose body armor had protected him and he took it after staring for a second. He had just got to his feet when I heard boots coming into the room. Before I could react, more gunfire erupted and he jerked as the impact of them on his back pushed him onto me. I fell under his sudden weight, trying to get out from under him and take aim at whoever had come inside, but a booted foot kicked the pistol out of my hand and I found myself staring down the barrel of an AK-47 assault rifle.

"Do not resist, Dylan Jacobs." A soft, feminine voice said in a happy purr. "If you move without being told to, he will kill you."

I turned my head and saw both of my 'targets' entering the room surrounded by about ten men, all with rifles pointed at me. Rahlil was smiling, as was Sofia and he moved to each of the three clerics and touched them briefly while speaking in Arabic. The three clerics stiffened as he approached, but after he touched them relaxed silently and watched with light interest as Sofia approached me. She motioned the man with his rifle pointed at me to back up, and he did so. With an expression of disgust, the girl, who was just a little bit shorter than me kicked the body of the dead man off of me. Her hand motion indicated for me to stand and I did slowly until I was looking at her from a distance of only a foot while she looked at me appraisingly.

"I am surprised you did not bring the boy like us with you." She said in a voice that would barely carry to those standing nearby. "I would think you would keep yourself better protected."

"I didn't know you'd be so bold as to attack here." I admitted with some chagrin. "I don't know how you think you'll be able to get out of this, though."

"That is the easy part, Dylan Jacobs." She purred, stepping closer to me until we were mere inches apart. As soon as she touched me though, she'd know. I had to do something, and of course that was the moment my wounded leg chose to tremble and I nearly fell down. She grabbed my arms to steady me, and fortunately the cloth of my uniform prevented our powers from touching, but I knew that moment was nearing.

"My leg." I said softly and she gave a rich, low-throated chuckle. I moved my arm out of her grasp though as my leg stopped trembling and she let me move them without protest. I moved into an 'at-ease' stance that put my right hand near the knife hidden in the small of my back, under my uniform top.

"Tell me, Dylan Jacobs, how many people know about people like my brother and I, and your little friend?" She asked softly, obviously trying to be seductive. I swallowed hard, as if I was nervous and she smiled a little more.

"More than enough to stop you." I said in a voice that shook slightly.

"It won't matter." She answered, moving her hips under the dark robe all females seemed to wear in her culture. "Tell me, have you ever known the pleasure of a woman?"

"That is none of your business and something you'll never know." I hissed back to her, and I could hear her brother chuckling from where he stood near the clerics.

"Oh, you'll tell me all I want to know and then some." She smiled softly, confident in her abilities, and unknowing of my own. I had to wait though, until she made her move. Until she made her move, the guards around her would be too suspicious and any fast move by me might backfire. "You're just a pathetic human, so easy to twist to my will."

"Just get it over with." I snarled, my anger only partly feigned.

"Oh no, not yet." She gloated, moving away suddenly and I almost moved after her. The men whose rifles were pointing at me stopped me though. She turned back around to face me, smiling a little more. "Don't you get it, Dylan? My brother and I, Allah has made us more than human, and when we're done we'll rule this planet in his name. Your pathetic America won't be able to stand against us. Look at us, two children and we've already brought the world to its knees. When I first saw you on television I thought you had to be one of us. Rahlil went to talk to you, to bring you into our fold, but you had that fool with you, protecting you. We thought he might already have controlled you, but it became obvious he takes orders from you. That is a crime you will pay for; controlling one of Allah's chosen."

"How many of us is your government trying to control?" Rahlil asked in what was actually smooth voice only barely tinged by anger.

"You're fine people to talk." I said scornfully. "Who is pulling your strings?"

"No one controls us!" Sofia said angrily, marching to me and only stopping short of slapping me. "We control them! They thought they could control us, but we saw Allah's true will! Do you think those petty men, concerned with only their own wealth and how many toys they had could conceive of this plan? It was we who devised the plan to stop the flow of oil! It was we who used Allah's gift to make your leaders suspicious, to lead them down the road of war. It was we who did Allah's will and set you on each other!"

"Then it will be you who pay for the deaths you've caused." I said with a firm resolve that caused her to step back for a moment. She moved back towards me though, and smiled wickedly.

"I like it when they struggle, before they fall to my feet and worship me." She said in a soft, and what she probably thought was a seductive, voice. "You will kneel before me, kiss my feet and beg to serve me, Dylan Jacobs."

"Fuck off, bitch." I cursed at her, tired of the banter and wanting to end this whole thing. It worked, I knew the moment I saw her eyes go wide and she grabbed my arms in a tight grip, far stronger than I had expected. She stood on her toes before I could react and her lips touched mine, but that was when she lost the advantage and I struck.

As her power poured into me, it met the wall of my own power, and I could hear her small gasp of surprise, and feel her physical attempt to pull back. My left hand rose and pulled her head back towards me and when our lips met again, I sent through them a wave of my power that inundated her, sweeping away her amateur attempt to block me out. She was strong, stronger than anyone I'd met except Henry and Jeremy, but strength only accounted for so much. While she'd been using her abilities far longer than I had, I had experiences she'd never dreamed of having.

When I'd met Jeremy in a similar circumstance, taken by surprise and captive, I'd learned something about our abilities that we later tested in our 'school' under laboratory conditions. She'd never done that, and so her limited experiences with her own brother had never prepared her for what someone with my knowledge could do to her. I couldn't take control of her, I couldn't force her to my will or bond her, but I could fight her to a point where she couldn't act physically, where she'd be frozen so long as I held dominance over her, and I could do more than that as well.

In the non-gifted, it wasn't possible to see someone's memories, and I'd only been able to achieve an empathic bond with two of my circle, but among the gifted our powers could be used to share memories, thoughts, transmitted along the conduits of our powers. What could be shared, could also be taken and this too we had practiced and developed. She moaned slightly as I changed the hue, the shape of my power and sent it further into her until her own abilities warped themselves around mine and transmitted what I wanted. For a moment, I wished I hadn't.

No ten year old girl should ever be raped by her own father.

Only the certain knowledge that she had killed millions with her games kept me from slackening up on her at that moment, and as I finished the memory of that rape I saw that while she was the victim of a sexual assault from her own father, her exploration of what was effectively her first bonded man left me even sicker than the rape itself had done. It wasn't just what she did after she found her father would now do whatever she demanded, it was the joy she took in that power and she immediately set about using it on everyone she came into contact with. She was shocked when her biological twin had resisted her, and she grudgingly accepted him as an equal. I pulled harder on her, and memories flashed into me of her uncle, the supporter of al-Quaeda who had the first thoughts of what would eventually bring about the Great Oil Crisis.

It had taken nearly two years for them to put everything into place, two years in which they'd explored how to control humans, and two years through which they developed a belief they were Allah's gift, and more than human. They had seen the leaders of their own country, and especially the religious leaders as only stumbling blocks on their path to their god-given positions, rulers of the world. Their plan began with the assassination of the Saudi Royal Family. There was no need to control Islamic leaders who filled in the gap, and those they did control whispered the right things into the right ears. It was one of these that had flown around the world with them in tow, subtly influencing leaders with a slight touch, as I had done to Khulari myself, and gentle words that set suspicions and distrust in the minds of those men and women.

They had wanted to get to Dad right after he became President, but his threat of nuclear annihilation and refusal to meet with a negotiating team had stopped that. Instead they adopted a plan to kill me in Israel, to end American support for that country by having an Israeli kill the son of the American President. When that failed, they thought maybe there were others like them, and I might be one of them. Rahlil had gone to meet me, and maybe try to draw me to their side or to kill me. Alan had upset their plans and at first they thought Alan (and Jennifer because the boy/girl mix fit their own style) was controlling me. After looking at what had happened, they'd decided that I had some type of blackmail control of the two and decided to proceed with making my death a wedge between America and Israel before they proceeded with another plan to finish off most of the military power of the world.

The assassination of the Israeli Prime Minister was the first step of that plan. Its only purpose was to draw me back to Israel where they could strike at me. Jennifer's death was part of the plan to take out the two they saw as threats to their mission. Alan would have been eliminated tomorrow in a similar incident, and then they would have believed the path to me to be clear. Then I'd die, and they'd be sent to the United States as part of the official 'mourning party' of the UIC. From there, they'd take Dad and lead the US on the path to another, more deadly nuclear war.

That was all I needed to know, and I'd gathered the information in a matter of seconds, just long enough for Rahlil to grow suspicious at how I'd not succumbed to her yet. Through the contact of our lips, and my hand on the back of her head, I kept her motor skills incapacitated as my free hand whipped up under my uniform tunic and I brought out the knife hidden there while my other hand grasped her hair firmly and whipped her around so she was a human shield. By the time anyone realized something was really wrong, my knife was gleaming at her throat.

"Back off, or she bleeds." I demanded in a harsh voice and the guards brought their weapons back up, pointing at me. From their expressions I saw that five of the twelve men were fully bonded either to her or her brother, while the rest were merely under simple controls. "You messed up, Rahlil. You should never have assumed I was within your ability to control."

"Lower your weapons." Rahlil said sharply, and the guards only hesitated a moment before obeying. Two hadn't hesitated at all and I knew they were bonded to Rahlil. That left three that would die as soon as I killed the girl whose powers were now marshalling to resist me. I concentrated for a moment, quashing that resistance and she whimpered. I had to change my grip from her hair to across her body or she would have slumped to the floor as I tightened the barrier keeping her from controlling her own movement.

"Don't just lower them, drop them now." I ordered and Rahlil only nodded. From Sofia's memories I knew that despite how they'd never truly liked each other, they both thought they needed each other. If Rahlil thought he didn't need her, this would never work. For a moment I wished my abilities included telekinesis so I could summon my gun to me, but I knew from extensive testing that wasn't possible. Still, there were other ways. I moved us slowly, having to drag her since I'd have to loosen my blocking of her motor centers to allow her to move at all on her own. She was heavy, but my steady workouts that Paul had never let me slack off on ensured that I could do what I had to do. I stopped when I reached the point I wanted, just a quick drop and roll away from my pistol. In these close quarters it would be better than a rifle and a quick count of the shots fired told me I'd have to reload after taking down three of the guards. I had two magazines in the shoulder holster, both should be more than enough.

"You can't escape from here." Rahlil said slowly as the guards dropped their weapons and I reached the position I wanted. "You are one of us, Allah's children. We don't need to fight each other. Join us and throw off the slavery of mere humans. Those like us are smarter, better than these filth who have ruined the world age after age. Allah gave us our powers to rule them, surely you see that."

"Nope, I have no delusions of grandeur." I said simply, taking a deep breath. I'd killed before, just a few moments before even, shooting three men without hesitation. Now though, I was about to kill a girl, and for a moment my mind flashed back to that room in Salt Lake City where I'd shot four men in cold blood because of what they had done, and what they might do in the future. Here in my arms was one of two people that had done far worse things, and I wondered why I had hesitated at all. She, and Rahlil didn't even deserve the relatively quick death that awaited them.

I remembered discussing the slitting of an enemy's throat with Paul once. He'd told me that it was a very stupid way to kill someone. First of all, it wasn't quiet, and secondly it was very messy. No, a quick knife thrust through the base of the skull and into the brain, or from under the jaw was better. For a slitting to be effective and quick, it had to be very deep. A shallow slit along the throat would take minutes to kill, and the person would be in immense pain as their lungs flailed for oxygen and their heart pumped their blood messily through the torn artery.

That was why, as I spoke the last word of that sentence, I began a slow, shallow cut along Sofia's neck. I saw Rahlil's eyes widen as it started and he'd moved a full step before it was finished. The three guards that were bonded to her were already pulling their pistols out before the first gush of blood pumped from her gashed neck, but I was already moving.

As I dropped to my right, I let go of the bloody knife with my right hand and reached for the gun as I fell. I caught the knife with my left and grabbed the gun as my shoulder hit the floor, rolling quickly towards a nearby column as I'd done before. All the guards were moving, some diving for rifles as others sought to pull their pistols free. I stopped after two complete rolls and fired two quick shots at one guard, who fell with a round in his head and I squeezed off another round that went low, hitting another in the crotch before resuming my rolling away. Rahlil had closed half the distance to his sister before the first guard got a weapon in hand. By the time he fired, I was on the other side of the column, panting slightly.

"Paul, now would be a good time." I said softly, hoping the microphone was still working and Paul had somehow gotten through to a place where he could help me. I almost laughed when the sound of familiar weapons filled the room. They ended moments later and I breathed with relief as a familiar voice sounded.

"Clear." Roger Killmer's voice was firm and certain.

"Clear." Richardson's voice was tight but controlled.

"Clear." Muldoon's voice held a hint of humor in it, as always in combat situations.

"Clear." I said as I peaked around the column and sighed when I saw the three clerics still standing, under some control obviously because they'd not reacted to anything. All the guards were clearly dead, and Rahlil was kneeling on the floor, trying to stem the flow of blood from his sister's throat. She was making gagging noises still, and flopping slightly but the amount of blood around her and on her brother told me it was her dying gasp, and sure enough, she went still in death as I rose to my feet and took a limping step forward. I could see my three men moving into the room, and the look of concern on their faces, but I waived them back. Rahlil looked up at me and dropped his sister's body to the floor, using his blood-covered hands to rise to his feet. Rage filled his eyes and he was breathing in short bursts as he stared at me, and I looked at his blood covered clothes, noting how fitting it was that they were now covered in blood not only figuratively but in reality as well. His voice shook between a keen and a yell as he moved towards me, and before any of my men could shoot, I raised my pistol and fired, blasting his kneecap with a direct shot.

"No." I said as my men raised their guns, and they immediately moved into positions guarding the entrances while still keeping on eye on me as I approached Rahlil, who was now thrashing on the ground, grasping his shattered knee, and letting out moans of pain, shouts of anger and grief at the same time through his tortured throat. It seemed fitting to me, and several ways of ending this scenario flittered through my mind. I was filled with a rage that went beyond powerful. Here was the last of the two that had caused the heartache of billions that had indirectly brought about the deaths of my parents, my sisters. The death tolls from the nuclear exchange, from hunger, from rioting, from looting, from despots like Jefferson and the Prophet, and from the diseases and famine that had swept the world after the collapse of civilization had come to around one billion, three hundred twelve million, six hundred eighty four thousand, and two hundred three people. That was probably a very low number, and many had been Chinese people killed by American nukes, but it was the latest firm number I had seen.

Yet, they had still planned for more, and nothing I could do would ever bring any of these people back, but the rage inside me demanded something.

It wasn't the blinding, all-consuming rage I'd felt before. It wasn't a petty hatred that would burn itself out, and it wasn't the fiery hatred that would consume me forever. It was something else, and as I watched Rahlil thrashing, trying to get to his feet, and finally focusing on me with pain and rage filled eyes, I knew why I was here. I knew why I had the abilities I had, and I knew for what purpose God had made me.

These two had taken their abilities and used them for their own power and greed. They had used what God had given them and believed they were more than human. In a way they were right, those like us weren't really human. These two were wrong, though, in that we were meant to rule humanity. Rather, we were meant to serve.

The 17th Century philosopher Thomas Hobbes had written theories about social contracts that formed the basis of society, and had proffered his "Leviathan" theory, in which the people offered up every freedom, every aspect of their lives to a Leviathan who would protect them from all harm. In coming to terms with the bonding of those in my circle I'd developed an understanding of how within my circle, I was 'Leviathan'. I had absolute control over their lives, their welfare. Any command of mine would be obeyed utterly, even the command to end their life if I felt it was in the interest of our 'society'. The circle, and our ability to control those within it was the ultimate example of that.

Several things clicked into place at that exact moment. When it looked like Rahlil was getting to his feet, I took a step forward and fired another bullet into the shoulder of the arm that he was using to lever himself up. I stepped forward again, gripping the knife in my other hand tighter as my thoughts continued to tumble over each other with the realizations that were clicking into place.

While the Crisis had been artfully created by these two and their abilities, they had not had the power to make things as bad as they had become. They had influenced the leaders of the world's great powers, but those leaders' lieutenants could have stopped things before they'd gotten truly bad.

Those lieutenants had not done so.

Democracy, the great experiment of the modern era, had proven its weaknesses during this crisis. The signs were already starting to form of the cracks that had existed before the Crisis, and dad was counting on them for the ultimate goals he had. Rome had lasted for two thousand years under a mixture of democratic and imperial rule. The United States had lasted a little more than two centuries before it declined into the depravity and corruption that had ultimately destroyed Rome.

It wasn't necessarily not following biblical law that had caused that fall, and in private dad had never said it had. Instead, it was the corruption of those in charge, it was the failure of the leaders to follow the fundamental principles of the bible, not the letters of biblical law that had caused the ruin of not only Rome, the United States, but of all the major powers throughout history.

The strictness of biblical law was for those too stupid, or too ignorant, to understand the fundamental principles to be trusted without a strict code of behavior. The Corinthians couldn't understand how to deal with priestesses who were attempting to subvert their church, so the Apostle Paul had told them how to do so. He'd told them that women must wear hats or head scarves during church, and were not allowed to preach.

That wasn't a law for all people and all ages. It was how to handle that situation they faced with priestesses whose religion forbade them wearing head scarves such as he'd told them to require. Preventing women from speaking in service also filled the same function. Paul was telling the early church leaders how to lead, how to overcome problems they faced, not issuing directives for all ages and peoples.

What dad wanted was not to force all women to walk around with their heads covered, but rather to instill a set of beliefs, of values that would prevent the failures we had faced a few years ago when these two children moved against the world with their God-given abilities. Yes, things would still have been bad but God was the ultimate Leviathan, and just as the men and women of my circle had me at the center of their lives, and put their ultimate faith, even if forced, into me, so too dad wanted to have the leadership of our country and the world to have their ultimate faith in God, and the core biblical fundamentals of service and love to others.

This boy and this girl had wanted to rule over others with their God-given gifts. What they had not comprehended was that we were intended to serve, not to rule. As I reached Rahlil's side and put my gun away into the shoulder holster, I accepted that my role was to serve humanity and society as a protector. I wasn't here to rule, but to protect the society as a whole from the excesses of human nature. Pride, Greed, Gluttony, Sex, and all the other sins were sins not in and of themselves, but from their excesses when not controlled. Neither Dad, nor the others, nor I wanted to put a stopper on all of them, but rather to limit their excess. Pride in a job well done was not a bad thing, but too much of it was. Greed fueled the desire to improve, to become better, but too much of it ruined the lives of others. Well-fed people were healthy, but fat people were a drain on society. Sex formed bonds of love between people, acted as a stress reliever, and propagated the species, but it could be used to harm and hurt others when taken to excess. Even gay sex fit into a 'healthy' spectrum of forming bonds between people as well as a stress reliever. It was also dangerous when taken to extremes as diseases like AIDS had proven.

That was why dad didn't care what happened in private, because unless it was forced sex or rape, it was healthy. There wouldn't be bath houses like had existed in San Francisco because that led to excess, but if two men shacked up together it wouldn't be something he cared about so long as it stayed private. While those with the intelligence or desire to understand these principles could be trusted, the majority of people would not, and did not take the time to reach that understanding. That was why the stricter rules of the bible were necessary; to give them the lines in the sand they knew better than to cross.

As I lifted Rahlil from the ground by his hair alone and stared into his pain, and hate, filled eyes, I realized that I owed him and his sister a small debt of gratitude. I'd been struggling with these thoughts, these issues for over a year now, and here, as I confronted them I'd finally found the answers I needed. I shifted the knife in my left hand, and instead of the slower death his sister had, I decided to give him the quicker thrust, from under his jaw and up into his brain, a quicker, less painful death. He must have sensed it from the look of victory in his face, but I was wrong.

The pain in my abdomen proved that as he stuck me with a knife I hadn't seen in his hands.

Even as I cried out in pain, my knife arm jerked forward, cutting into his throat with a stabbing motion instead of a slitting motion. I could see Roger Killmer reacting to my pain through the closer bond and he began to move through me as I pulled my knife out and dropped Rahlil just as the blood began spurting out of his throat. I knew I was covered in it as I felt it splash against the chest of my uniform, but I just stared down at the small handle now sticking out of my lower right abdomen in surprise. It was numb there, and as Roger reached me I sagged into his grasp gratefully.

"Dylan, don't move." Roger said forcefully as he took my weight and lowered me to the floor. "Paul! Dylan's been injured. Knife wound to the gut. Get that medivac helicopter in here."

"What's happening outside?" I asked as Rahlil was flopping on the ground, trying to stop the bleeding from his throat with one hand. He'd be dead in a moment.

"Mob formed when the shooting started." Roger said as Sammy Richardson reached us while Muldoon stood guard. Richardson was also a trained medic and began to cut my uniform top off away from the knife wound. Blood was seeping out slowly, and we all knew better than to draw it out. "He sent us in after we took out the guards at the gate. He needed everyone else to keep the path clear for us to get out of here. They're pretty much scattered but we have a few snipers still."

"We have to get him out of here now." Sammy said in a pained voice and I could start to feel the pain coming from the wound. It hurt worse than anything I'd ever imagined.

"No." I said firmly. "The clerics are still under some form of control. I have to fix them now, before we leave and this place explodes out of control. No arguing. Roger, Sammy help me up and over to them."

They didn't argue, and with their help I reached the three men. I touched Mustaffah first, ripping away the controls that had been set by Rahlil. I did more than that though. Through the haze of pain that was growing, my control of my power fluctuated, but I still managed to get him to tell me what Rahlil had done. Fortunately for me, it was a command to stand still and remember nothing of what happened. At my direction, Sammy fumbled in my pocket retrieving my small battery. As I used my control to bend him towards believing what I was about to tell him as Mustaffah regained awareness, I quickly told him that they'd used a skin contact drug that had been developed in secret by a company. In order for the drug to work, treatments had to be done when a person was still a baby and a secret group had planned to use these children to take over world governments. The US had found out about this and these two were the last of the children who had received the treatment and were able to administer the drug through skin to skin contact.

"With the last of them dead, we've already destroyed the labs and those that created them are dead." I finished telling him and he nodded. "We will release this information now. It was an abomination to God to take away a man's free will to choose who he serves, and could not be tolerated. I will leave you now, in peace. I am sorry for the desecration of this holy place."

"It was not you who brought them here." Mustaffah said wearily, putting a hand to his head. "You are wounded! Go! I will calm the people, and tell them how for once the Americans did come to help. Go!"

"Thank you." I said with a whimper of pain. It was growing more intense now. Sammy and Roger barely waited for me to touch the battery, and my fingers to the other two clerics and release the hold on them before dragging me out of the room, a very nervous Muldoon leading the way.

I was almost passed out by the time we reached the outside and the sounds of a helicopter landing nearby were audible. Paul's face was white when he saw me, and two more men held a litter that I was quickly placed on. We were rushing through a knot of people, all worried and taunt with tension, towards the nearby helicopter. I could almost hear a collective sigh of relief as we reached the machine, and I was loaded on board.

That was when the unmistakable sound of machine gun fire rent the air again.