Dawn of Tears - 23. Wrapping Things Up

Note to Readers: I was amazed at how rapidly the newly bonded young men from Utah were integrated into my circle. Why I might have been so amazed I'm not sure, but I still was at the time. It is a mark of how much the bonding affects their outlook on life that they readily accepted the five boys, and integrated them into our little 'family'. This was something that we studied much more in depth later.

"Dylan, wake up." A female voice was saying gently into my ear. I wanted to ignore it, but it kept repeating that line. I was tired, feeling like I was clawing my way through a murky darkness that clung to me and wouldn't let me get away. However a new voice cut through that darkness and I bolted awake.

"DYLAN THOMAS JACOBS, GET YOUR ASS OUT OF BED!" Paul Connors voice was loud, and as I jerked into a sitting position, blinking at him through sleep-crusted eyes I realized he still looked angry. For a single second I stared at him, wondering what I'd done to get him so angry and then the memories of last night flooded back to me, being covered by the blood of the young man I'd killed, and all the rest of it popped back into my head in a flesh of sights, sounds, and smells that overwhelmed me.

I did make it into the bathroom in time before puking my guts out. There wasn't much there for me to puke up, and it became dry heaves next. They finally subsided and I realized someone was holding my head gently. I leaned into the embrace, resting against the firm, strong grip and letting out a single sob.

"You okay now?" Paul's voice was soft and filled with a concern that was even more soothing than his arms around me.

"I…need to clean up." I mumbled, still not thinking totally clearly.

"Get in the shower, Dylan." Paul said and I stood up, moving out of his embrace slowly. Someone had undressed me when I was in bed, and so it was easy to step into the small cubicle and start the shower. The water was chilly at first, but that fact barely registered on my body before it warmed up. I stood there, not moving as the water fell on me and I felt the floor tipping ever so slightly.

"Here, open the door." Jimmy's voice was soft, and filled with concern as well. He was wearing nothing but a pair of tight briefs and held a scrub brush in his hands as he decided not to wait for me and opened the door himself. Although the shower was bigger than the one on my old plane, it still wasn't big enough for two people. He moved closer, though and turned me to face him before rubbing some soap onto my chest, and slowly beginning to scrub in light motions. We went on like that, him telling me to move, or gently lifting my arm to scrub something else. I noticed he kept remarking that there really wasn't a scratch on me, just some bruises and scrapes. It was after he scrubbed my face and shampooed my hair, scrubbing my scalp gently, and in a way that made my head tingle that I recovered the power of speech.

"The floor." I stated in a soft voice. Jimmy looked down at the tiled floor that was now filled with thin layer of water that moved as the plane moved slightly.

"Don't worry about it, Dylan." Jimmy said softly with a chuckle. "One of us will take care of things. You need to get clean, dressed, and back into the conference room. The President is furious. He didn't want to wait three hours when Colonel Haywood called him, he wanted to talk to you now. When we told them you'd passed out from exhaustion he ordered us to the nearest air base, but then Haywood had the communications guys play the recording of your last radio call and your dad calmed down enough to order us to a secure staging area. He's waiting now. He said four hours was enough sleep and that we were to wake you and get you ready. He's waiting in the conference room."

"The officers and professors?" I asked, still not awake enough to make full sentences.

"Awake, and feeling sick as hell." Jimmy answered with a small smile. "Whatever it was that Jeremy guy did, it worked good. We're in the air still, about a hundred miles north. Both forward support planes are here now as well, waiting for the order to move in, and we're surrounded by six fighters from the Air Force who have orders to shoot anything down that comes into the air."

"Okay, Jimmy, thanks for helping me get cleaned up." I said, and he started shaking a bit, moving further into the shower cubicle and wrapping me in a tight hug. I hugged him back, reminding him I was okay, and he moved back out as I turned off the water. I'd later learn I used up over half the water supply with that one shower, and that two of the aircrew spent two hours cleaning the room up, but no one ever complained. Jimmy had disappeared into the room he shared with Tim and Sandy while I went back into my own room, still dripping wet.

I didn't have to get a towel out of the drawer because Mary Collins was waiting next to Paul and the two of them moved forward with towels in hand, drying me and not even listening to my half-hearted protests. Like Jimmy had, they were also checking me for damages, as if still panicked that I was not alright. Then, Paul even checked my arms for needle marks before admitting I was okay. Mary pointed out some clothes, jeans and another button down shirt that were waiting on the bed, with under clothes as well. Both of them watched me dress in silence before following me into a very crowded conference room. I noticed that the officers all looked pale, but were nonetheless grilling the boys I'd brought back in angry tones.

"People, please, be quiet for a moment." I said in a quiet, but firm voice that grabbed everyone's attention. "They won't tell you anything because I threatened them if they did. Is this room set up for the videoconference?"

"Yes it is." Major Unger said in an angry tone, staring hard at me.

"I promise that all of you will get a full explanation when I've finished talking with the President." I said firmly. "For now, I ask that everyone leave except the people that brought me back. Lt. Connors, no one is to come near this cabin, and that includes you or whoever you post to make sure of that. Make sure no one is in Jimmy's cabin either."

"There's coffee and some bread and other food on the table for you." Mary Collins said quietly before she joined the people filing out. There wasn't an argument from any of them, something I was glad for because it was hard enough just standing there. When the room was empty except for the five newly bonded guys, Jeremy, and the fourteen-year-old, Neil, I sat down near the carafe of coffee. Mary had placed a mug beside a plate with a bagel, a muffin, and some regular toast. Butter, jelly, cream, and sugar were all nearby and as I buttered a piece of toast, I noticed how nervous they all looked, especially Neil. They also looked exhausted.

"They didn't let you get any sleep, did they?" I asked and they all shook their heads.

"I'll make sure they do when we're done." I said with a soft smile, and everyone but Neil relaxed slightly. "During the videoconference, stay quiet unless someone asks you a question directly. Neil, you're probably going to hear some pretty bad things, and you're definitely going to hear things you won't understand. Just stay quiet for now, please."

"Okay." Neil said softly, just as the phone rang. I picked it up, listened to Hegel as he walked me through how the videoconference would work, and he stressed that once it was patched though, it was encrypted. If there were any problems, I'd have to have him reestablish a new connection since he couldn't do anything with it from his control station once it was linked up. I noticed that Jeremy was fidgeting now and put a hand on his. He'd automatically moved to the seat next to me. While I waited for Hegel to finish whatever he did to make this work, the rest of the guys in the room moved until they were sitting in seats facing the wall with the television screen on it. I noticed a new camera sitting under the screen, pointing in our direction. Finally the phone beeped in a different tone than its ring, and I pushed the speaker button just as the screen came to life showing a very upset-looking dad as well as Senator Crawley and Admiral Fullard. I recognized that they were in dad's office back in the Alabama hotel that was currently the seat of government for the United States.

"Dylan, what the hell is going on out there and are you okay?" Dad demanded as soon as the connection was fully established. He was peering at me through the screen like he was about to leap through it and check me out in person.

"I'm doing okay dad." I said softly and he relaxed a bit. "I'm just a bit bruised and extremely tired still. Thanks for letting me get some sleep."

"What exactly happened out there?" Dad asked me.

"A lot happened." I said in a flat voice, looking at the two men sitting next to dad and wondering how they would react. "First, though, we need to tell Senator Crawly and the Admiral the full truth about Idaho, and about Tim."

"I take it one of these boys is like Tim?" Dad asked me with a very tired voice.

"Jeremy here on my right." I said with a nod. "More importantly, I've got five more under guard in the Guest cabin."

Dad looked totally shocked at that and just nodded at me. I launched into a full explanation, leaving out details of things like how exactly we could bond people to us, but describing how Tim had been used, and many of the things we'd learned since then about our abilities and what they were. The two men had many questions at that point and I thought they were taking it pretty well.

"I authorized Dylan to bond the people to him, if they were willing." Dad finished after I'd exhausted most of the information I had had before coming to Utah. "Henry was told to do the same. The risk of infiltration through this method was too great, and I wanted them protected. We all know how secrets become more dangerous the more people know, so we kept it as quiet as possible. However, if Dylan's found so many of them I don't think we can keep a lid on this much longer."

"No dad, it's not going to be easy." I said firmly. "I made a lot of mistakes here dad. I should have listened more closely to Lt. Connors. He wanted me to use my abilities to check on certain people, to make sure the few I haven't bonded weren't being controlled after they returned from meetings, and I didn't. He was right, dad. They took Holt during the first meeting and bonded him. I knew the threat of someone my age being alone with an unbonded person and I dismissed it as being too remote of a chance. That's how they were able to do what they did on the plane, with his help and knowledge."

"We'll worry about what was and wasn't a mistake later, just tell me what the hell happened and what those boys around you have to do with this all!" Dad said in a frustrated tone. So I started the story from dinner, told him of the Tina girl's attempt to exert a subtle control that would lead me down the path that the Prophet's men wanted and to my eventually being bonded to their side. I told them of how Killmer, raised to be one of their most faithful people had been bonded to my side and helped set up the situation where Jeremy chose to help me instead of continuing to be used by them.

All three men listened intently, asking a few questions when they didn't understand something or my explanations were less than clear. My voice shook as I related the events in the Prophet's room where I'd murdered first Tina, because of what I thought she and her bonded Paul Holt might do, and my murder of the guard Gary Timms when he refused to be bonded me, and the murder of the four Deacons based on my opinion that their continued control of Utah would pose a future threat. When I reached the point where we prepared to head to the building where the other kids like me were being held, I halted for a moment, waiting for the response from these three men.

"When a military commander discovers a clear and present danger to the government, he is expected to take whatever action he believes necessary to end the danger." Admiral Fullard said after a minute of silence. "You are a Warrant Officer in the Army, you were in a dire situation, and you used every weapon in your arsenal to end a threat to the United States. If you'd been able to call in and tell us of this situation, I would have ordered you out of there and recommended to the President we nuke the place out of existence. I would have ordered every military unit we had into a full attack to wipe everything there out of existence. You made the correct military decision to eliminate the threat to the government and its leadership. I know that doing the things you did was hard, and that it is going to be rough on you for a bit, son, but I won't hesitate in telling you that you did the right thing. I'm just glad your father insisted on you receiving the training you did."

"Training you will be continuing." Dad said firmly. "Finish the story."

So I did finish, telling them of our assault on the center where the kids were being held, our killing of the guards there, and the rescue of the five children. Then I told of our drive out of the city, and our harrowing trip to the plane, and how the security detail had erupted from the plane in a frenzy that eliminated all the guards who'd been watching the plane. Our take-off, my orders to have Jeremy work his powers on the officers and professors to adjust their memories of exactly what had happened, and ended with my passing out.

"Sweet Lord God Almighty, this is almost too much to believe." Senator Crawley said slowly while shaking his head. "Dylan, what are the chances of covering up the…more sensitive parts of this?"

"I'm not completely sure." I admitted. "It depends on how many people knew of these abilities and their uses."

"If I may?" Jeremy asked, leaning forward and I nodded. "Most of the people who did know are now dead. Most of the rest, knew bits and pieces, but I doubt they knew everything."

"Go ahead Brian." I said to one of the older bonded from this recent group. He was leaning forward and looked like he wanted to speak.

"Most of the people who knew anything about this only knew that if these people touched them, they could somehow be controlled." Brian said. "Only the guards really had any idea of how things worked. Almost half of us are either dead, or now belong to Dylan. Can't you just, I don't know, make them forget?"

"It's not that easy." Jeremy said quickly. "One event, maybe two, or a few consecutive few hours, or a day have worked when I've done it before. But, this has been going on for years, and there's people who have known about it for that whole time, and even the guards have known for weeks. Stuff like that, it's hard to make a lasting impact with just basic controls."

"Dylan, we've been receiving messages from a group calling itself the 'Utah Provisional Council' for the last few hours." Dad said. "They seem pretty insistent that they want to talk about…recent events and seem very worried. Do you think that they are seriously seeking resolution or something else?"

"More than likely it's the people that didn't fully appreciate the Prophet." I answered after thinking for a moment.

"Do you want to return and handle things?" Dad asked and I sighed. I created the mess, and I should clean it up. "I think that you might be able to figure things out better from there."

"We'll work on what to do about those kids you rescued as well." Admiral Fullard said. "The military has a lot of civilians that work on highly classified projects. I think we might be able to set something up to help these kids. I agree with you, we need to help them recover and they are a danger left to their own means, but they don't necessarily reflect a threat that deserves their death. We'll figure something out for them. For now, don't tell your officers any details until we develop a cover story and get everything sorted out with those people down there."

"Thank you sir." I said slowly, rubbing my temple. "I think I better go back, dad. There's too many questions left unanswered and if I leave now, I think we'll only guarantee that the whole story comes out."

"I'll have your pilot and support staff informed you're going back." Dad said, and then he paused to stare at me hard. "Dylan, this time you listen to them when they tell you to be more careful and suspicious. You don't dismiss their concerns out of hand."

"Yes, sir, I will." I said, promising him and meaning it completely. We both disconnected the signal after that and I put my elbows on the table, rubbing my temples tightly at the headache that was forming. Jeremy was looking at the blank screen like it would spring back to life and pronounce a death sentence on him, and I noticed that Neil was staring at me hard.

"Will I be allowed to stay with you or will I have to go wherever they send the others?" Jeremy asked me in a soft voice.

"I'll fight to keep you with me." I said. "More than likely, I will be there for a little bit myself. I might insist on it even, just so I know that those kids will be treated right. I promised them that they'd be treated better and I intend to keep that promise."

"What's to become of us?" Nathan asked me from where he sat next to his twin brother.

"That's easy, wherever I go, you go." I told him. "I made you a promise when I gave you the choice to be bonded to me and I will keep that as well."

"What about me?" Neil asked in a very quiet voice. He looked scared to death.

"You'll stay here for the time being." I told him, looking at him carefully. "I remember making some promises to you as well, and I'll keep them. But you will have to decide soon which way you want to go."

"Okay." Neil said softly and I told Chris to get up and let the people who were probably clustered in the Guard cabin back in. Within a few moments, people were filing into the room and everyone but Jeremy was shooed into a corner, watched by a suspicious Jones and Halpern while the officers all sat down.

"Do we finally get to know what happened?" Major Unger said in a tightly controlled voice.

"Some of it, yes." I answered him quickly. "I'm under orders to keep certain details secret until the President and his advisors figure out how to deal with what I learned."

"Then tell us what you can." Major Unger said with a hint of anger and frustration in his voice.

"First, those guys and Jeremy here are responsible for saving my life." I said firmly. "They haven't had any rest. Put them in my cabin and Jimmy's and they can get some sleep. They're my guests for now."

"Do it." Major Unger ordered, nodding at Jones and Halpern. Jeremy stood, glancing at me with concern before allowing himself to be led into one of the cabins. Now it was just me, the officers, and Mary Carroll who was bringing in more coffee and food while the plane began a long, gentle turn and tilted downwards a bit.

"Basically I made several mistakes in not listening to you, and I apologize." I told them immediately, getting a few curt nods. "Essentially the man who took over their government, and led the move to secede from the U.S. was a self-styled 'Prophet' and found some means of controlling people. That's why they took Holt and I from the plane, but before they could do anything, I was able to break free."

"You were able to break free." Major Unger's voice was filled with disbelief.

"The guys going to sleep in there were some of the guards." I stated and I heard several people draw in their breath quickly. "Before anyone says anything, let me say I think the Prophet had a screw or two loose. He chose people for his guard based on the strength of their religious beliefs, not necessarily on skill or maturity. Those guys saw things that made them question whether the 'Prophet' really was a man of God, and when they were told to beat me, they hesitated. In that moment of hesitation, I was able to take one of their weapons and forced a stand-off. Five of the six guards decided they had had enough, and didn't want to be a part of the Prophet's team anymore. The sixth started shooting. The Prophet, his Deacons, the girl Tina, and Holt all died in that scrap up. The guard who started it did as well."

"Then what did you do?" Major Unger asked.

"I had learned that this Prophet was using more kids to test whatever this control thing was, so I talked with my friends and we went to the building where they were being held. It was only lightly guarded and they helped me get in there, get the kids, and their medical records, and get out." I said.

"Was Killmer helping them?" Major Unger asked and I realized I should have realized he'd suspected that.

"No." I said firmly. "He grew up around some of the people in the Prophet's group, and he had told me about that long before we came here. He was under orders from the President to allow them to believe he was working for them if something occurred like what happened. He had no knowledge of what they would do at the dinner, but when he found himself in that situation, he let them believe he was faithful to their ideals. Without his help, I probably wouldn't be here today. He set them thinking they were more secure than they were with me, and that helped me take advantage of the situation when it happened."

"So why are we heading back there?" Major Unger asked.

"The Prophet and his entire upper command structure have been killed." I answered. "I think the people left may be having second thoughts about resisting federal control."

"Major?" Hegel's voice called from the doorway. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but the advance planes are calling for you and Lt. Connors to discuss arrangements for our landing."

"Anything you want for these arrangements?" Major Unger asked me, with a slight hint of sarcasm.

"Wherever you think is safest for me to meet with these people, Major." I said. "For the meeting itself, me and Lt. Connors and two or three security people only. We have some things to talk about the President wants kept secure. Video surveillance is okay, but no audio whatsoever."

"You'd trust your security detail over officers?" Major Unger asked and I just eyed him carefully.

"They are more expendable, Major." I answered him and he stared at me for a moment before nodding. I stood up and said I'd be in my cabin to the people that were left. I had forgotten that the room would be full. I just wanted to sleep some more while I could. The room was dark, and I noticed three figures on the bed. Two were clumped together and I realized in the dim light from the open door of the security office that Brian was holding his little brother, Neil tightly. The other person was Jeremy, and all three were sound asleep. I crawled in between Brian and Jeremy and was surprised when Jeremy sleepily turned, making more room for me and wrapped his arms around me. I fell asleep feeling safe and slightly excited by the close contact. I was vaguely aware of Hollings, cramped into the security cabinet and staring at us briefly. I wondered how we look, three bright haired blonds and me with my dark hair in between them.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Brian…what if he says 'no'?" Neil's voice was extremely soft, and as I woke up I realized that the two were still lying next to me. Jeremy was gone, and that was probably what had woken me, as well as the voice of someone who didn't belong to my circle.

"He won't." Brian said with a certainty. "It's like I've known him all my life, not just a day or two. Every time I think of him, I can feel that tingle again and it's a good thing, Neil. I love you, bro, but it's like I belong to something bigger now. You saw those guys, the others. They're killers, but they all feel the same way about him that I do. If you don't, you'll have to leave. I know it, I can see it in their eyes. They don't even let those officers near him like this and they are part of his crew. I can tell they don't really like me yet, but they don't know me yet. Still, they let me closer to him than they would anyone else. I mean, we're in the room alone here and you heard what the big guy said."

"Yeah, if he sees me alone in here without you he'll kick my ass." Neil said softly.

"He meant it to, Neil." Brian said softly. "He trusts me because when we touched he felt what I did, it's like an echo of Dylan. He knows I'd never hurt Dylan or let him be hurt. You though, he'd break you in half if you took one step out of line."

"What would you do if I did?" Neil asked and Brian sighed.

"I…I'm sorry bro, but you'd never get the chance to hurt Dylan." Brian's voice was sad, but also filled with determination.

"So, you'd pick him over me." Neil said in a very hurt tone.

"It doesn't have to be like that, Neil." Brian said. "If he…if he brings you into his circle, like they called it, he wouldn't be between us like that."

"But I wouldn't be me anymore." Neil said in a desperate tone.

"I'm still me, Neil." Brain said. "I told you when we were little I'd never walk away from you, but Neil, it's you who is walking away from me now."

"I'm scared, Brian." Neil said. "He scares me, the way he just killed those men and didn't even blink an eye. He's freaky as hell."

"Yeah, but wouldn't you rather be on his side than against him?" Brian asked and I could hear a softer sigh coming from Neil.

"I'll ask him when he wakes up." Neil said in a sad tone. "You're sure he won't turn me into someone else?"

"It'll change you, bro." Brian admitted softly. "But you're still the same person afterwards. It's just, different things are important to you than they were before."

"Okay." Neil's voice was determined now. "I don't want to lose you the way Michael just left. Dad never really cared for either of us. After Michael left it was always about Eddie and what he wanted. I'm tired of his crap."

"We'll be fine, Neil." Brian said. "Eddie will never be able to touch us again. Besides, we won't have to go to his wedding now. Isn't that worth it by itself?"

"Yeah." Neil's voice was filled with amusement now, and I decided it was time to let them know I was awake.

"I'm awake." I told them and I could feel the bed shift as Neil jerked in surprise.

"How long you been awake?" Brian asked and the bed shifted again as he turned to face me.

"Long enough to know that your brother and I need to talk." I answered. "Go tell whoever is on duty in the security office that I don't want to be disturbed for a little while. I think Neil might want a little more privacy. You can watch from the office, but don't intrude."

"Okay." Brian said, getting up quickly. I noticed he'd stripped out of his uniform that had born the Prophet's insignia and was wearing very tight white briefs. I found myself wondering if all blonds were so hairless, but movement from the bed returned my attention back to Neil, who like his brother only wore white briefs. He was looking at me nervously, studying me closely.

"You like my brother." He said after a moment. "I mean you like, you like his body."

"He is handsome." I admitted.

"I…I've had thoughts about him at times." Neil admitted, and I knew this was tough for him. It'd be tough for me as well. "I've even had thoughts about some of my friends. I never had thoughts like that for a girl, though. That…that's my biggest secret, something I never even told Brian."

"You never have to tell him, either." I said. "But, you might find out it's not that big of a deal anymore. Between us, the circle, it's not something we care about, but it something that we don't want others to know about."

"I feel like I've lost my brother." Neil said in a voice that turned into a sob. I moved over on the bed, and in the dim light saw he was crying softly. I took him into a light hug, and he flinched at first, but then relaxed as he felt nothing but a comforting touch. Yes, my power was there, ready to be used, but I was holding it in very tight check.

"I'm sorry." I told him softly. "I wish I hadn't had to make him choose, but it was necessary. You both come from a big family?"

"Yes, we have three other brothers and two sisters." Neil answered softly. He was looking at me now, studying my face.

"Well, now Brian has almost thirty more brothers and sisters." I told him and he studied me a little longer.

"I…I always wanted to learn how to fly." He said softly. "That was always what I wanted to do, learn how to fly planes."

"I love that, too." I replied, and told him about my experiences flying and landing a plane on the way to Alabama, and the lessons I was currently taking.

"If…I join your circle, can I still learn to fly?" He asked me when I was done.

"Yes, absolutely." I answered and he smiled.

"Then that's what I want." He said firmly. "I don't want to go home. The only ones who really cared about were Michael and Brian. Michael went away years ago and I'm not losing Brian."

"Okay." I said softly, leaning in to kiss him gently. Ever since I'd first seen him he was hesitant, unsure about things, but not now. Now, I learned, he was bold. I was leaning in towards him, but it was his lips that met mine. Bondings could be fast, or slow, and this was something in between. What was also different was that as he manipulated me free from the pants I'd fallen asleep in, and I pulled down his underwear, I found I wanted this to continue. I wanted to see if I could reproduce the effect I'd achieved with Michael Rogers.

When it was over, and we were both left gasping on the bed, I knew that I had succeeded. There was another little knot in my head that I could feel as the guy lying on my chest and panting. He stared at me with wide eyes and a broad smile as he slowly regained control of his breathing.

"Brian's right, this is worth it." Neil said at last and I smiled again. "You need to change though."

He was right, my clothes were stained now and it wouldn't do for me to be seen in them. Our timing wasn't bad either because by the time I was changed, I was being summoned back to the conference room where a much harried Major Unger and Lt. Ellington were waiting for me. Captain Camus was still in the Operations cabin going over issues with the forward detail who had just landed at Salt Lake City and found a deserted airport, the bodies from last night's escape still littering the tarmac, and a Terminal building that was smoldering in areas. It had only been the sprinkler system that had kept the building from exploding in fire, and it was members of the forward details that put out the remaining smoldering debris from our firefight.

It had been three hours since I had gone back to sleep after the videoconference with dad, and in those three hours, a much clearer picture of what had occurred the night before and this morning was taking shape. While the boys and I had been freeing the five prisoner kids at the 'reprogramming' center, Brian's dad, a minor Deacon in the Prophet's hierarchy, had found that the room the Prophet was in was locked and that there was no response when he'd tried to contact the Prophet in there. He'd gotten the guard lieutenant that had access to the room and a squad of his men. Mere seconds after we'd gone out the gates, word began to spread that the Prophet and his closest advisors had been assassinated.

A minor functionary who had seen us in the hallways remembered seeing Brian escorting the group holding a very bloody Dylan Jacobs and leading him out of the building. Brian's dad, who had since gotten himself into the company of men more loyal to himself had tried to flee the compound. Men loyal to the Prophet, and who had tied themselves to his cause closely enough that his death seemed the end of their world reacted violently and a blood bath ensued in the compound.

Under the Prophet's orders, many people had been moved out of the city and across the state into farming collectives. Most of those that remained had connections to the administrative offices, the church, or the military and factions had been forming among supporters of the Prophet, and two other groups who held various positions on different issues. The pro-US faction, led by General Dillard of the National Guard and several moderate church and government leaders, had led the best-trained forces that vied for control.

When he'd contacted me, he'd been certain of winning, but the fighting had not stopped until about two hours before I woke. General Dillard had prevailed, but the losses had been pretty heavy for all three sides. The Prophet's supporters were dead, almost to the last man, and many of their families had died in the crossfire (I would have to tell Brian and Neil that their brothers and sisters were dead some time later). Fires were burning throughout the city and the fighting between the two factions had stopped mostly so they could help fight a fire that was threatening the Temple itself.

Radio contacts throughout the state revealed that pro-Prophet and anti-Prophet groups were fighting each other in most of the municipalities. Realizing that continued fighting was no longer in anyone's interest, General Dillard and his chief supporters had met with the three leaders of the opposing faction and agreed to ask for federal intervention. The chief difference between the two sides lay within the issue of who should have legal control of the state government: a secular government (Dillard's side) or the Church.

My father's civilian role as a pastor made the pro-Church group believe that his federal government, and specifically me as the representative he'd sent, would be more favorable to their position while General Dillard, who had watched several of my interviews, thought that a fair medium might be reached. That is why, after refueling with an Air Force tanker we were heading back with dad's order to get things settled as fast as possible.

The support planes had landed thirty minutes earlier, with a satellite-equipped news crew that had begun taking shots of the airport area, and the fires burning in the distant city skyline. We stayed in the air for another three hours, eating lunch quietly as Major Grant listened to reports from the advance teams and gave orders, as well as conferred with General Dillard about how to approach things. While the fighting settled down in the city itself, and most people were focusing on stopping fires with the few firefighters still in the area, the rest of Utah was quickly descending into chaos, and a quick, definitive image was what most thought would stop things before they went to far. Utah had come through the crisis so far largely immune to the rioting and looting that had plagued the other states. While fuel had been hoarded by the Prophet's supporters, food was still available and most communities had some sort of power, even if it was only at the local parishes.

That's why in the late afternoon, my plane descended once more into the city and we landed at the airport. This time the troops on the ground were ours, and a third plane was bringing in another hundred for security purposes. This wasn't Idaho where he had to provide full operations, but the added troops were more a precautionary reaction by an overly sensitive Major Unger and Lt. Connors. I learned later that the news crews had four cameras, one with a telephoto lens that, when we pulled to a stop inside near where we had parked earlier, got some great pictures of bullet holes in the fuselage, near the forward and aft hatches, and a few other area. The plane's fuselage had been reinforced with lightweight armor that had stopped the rifle fire from penetrating but combined with the bodies that had been on the ground when the advance planes arrived, the pictures of bullet holes in my plane, live and being broadcast across the nation confirmed that we had fought our way out of a city erupting into open fighting.

As I listened to the reporter talking about our plane's arrival and the troops who immediately assumed positions around while technicians from the advance team maneuvered the ladder back into place and did all the things that are standard for parking a plane, I realized I missed Genevieve's objective and direct style of reporting. She would never have done all the speculating about what must have happened and the rumors he'd heard on the advanced planes about me having been kidnapped and escaping with guns blazing. While it was essentially accurate, I still didn't like how convinced he sounded, and thus convinced millions of people watching, that the bullet holes in the planes proved the rumors true.

I was mostly silent, listening to the television and trying to not rub my chest. There were several times when it felt sticky. Major Unger noticed my distraction at several points, and after the fifth time of trying to bring my attention back to the discussion he took me out into the narrow passageway and gave me a stern lecture that went 'Pull your head out of your fucking ass and keeping focused on the mission at hand. We aren't done here yet and we're not going to be done here for a while. You wanted to be here, you volunteered, and you got yourself in and out of a mess. Worry about the blood later, when you're home and crying on mommy's shoulder. Right now you're needed here!'

An hour after we landed, two civilian cars and a humvee pulled into the airport. They approached the security ring slowly, and the passengers disembarked slowly, and with their hands in clear view. The only one who even appeared armed was General Dillard, who approached the base of the ladder where I was standing with all the officers from my staff around me, and my personal security detail arranged in a half-circle around the ladder.

"Sir, I surrender my weapon to you." General Dillard said after the officers had saluted him (I was wearing civilian clothes again and did not salute). The General handed his pistol to Major Unger, who saluted again after accepting it. I hadn't wanted this to be done this way. I remember imagining a tall, proud, General Lee handing his sword to General Grant in surrender, effectively ending the Civil War, and I was scared the image of this General Dillard surrendering his pistol to Major Unger would evoke a similar feeling amongst the people watching. However, after the bullet holes in the plane were aired on television, Major Unger felt some solid sign of things being over was necessary. However, the Major had listened to my thoughts and we'd reached some sort of compromise that I thought might lessen the negative impact. I expected Major Unger to perform the next part of what we'd planned and discussed with General Dillard, but he surprised me, handing me the surrendered weapon with a look that told me he wanted me to do this part for some reason.

"General Dillard," I said, turning to face the proud man who had surrendered the weapon and who was now standing, facing us at a very stiff attention. "Your country needs your service, and your state needs your presence. Will you consent to serve?"

"Yes, Mr. Jacobs." He said with a proud tone.

"Major Unger, will you administer the Oath of Office?" I asked.

"Please repeat after me." Major Unger said, and both men raised their hands, swearing the Oath all military personnel took, to the United States of America. When they were done, Lt. Ellington handed me a blue leather binder that was supposed to go to Major Unger, but he shook his head slightly when I turned towards him. I hated being forced into these things.

"General Dillard, you will find enclosed your commission as a Major General in the United States Army Reserve and confirmation of your appointment as Commanding Officer of the Utah National Guard in absence of proper civilian authority within the state." I said in a firm, clear voice. He took the document, and saluted me directly, which I returned automatically, not having expected it. Then we shook hands. I noticed he didn't flinch or react like he knew what I could do and I figured that he at least didn't know about me or didn't know anything about these abilities at all. The General then introduced the other people with him and we moved up as a group into the plane's conference room.

During the conference that took place over the next hour, a fast, and quick discussion took place about the future of Utah, and while I said very little, I noticed both sides of the Utah delegation listening intently every time I talked. We had several fruit juices and water served, as well as some snacks while the meeting took place, and Jeremy, having been loaned an air force green flight suit, was one of the people serving. I noticed several of the Utah people looking at him, but none reacted as if they recognized him, which told me even more that these people weren't a danger to my secret. Major Unger and the other officers had been touched briefly and told they wouldn't realize that it was anyone but Hegel who'd been helping Mary provide the refreshments.

By the time they left the plane, the immediate governance of Utah was settled by the formation of a Provisional Council made up of two representatives of each group and a Federal Mediator who would break tie votes and also have veto power over any decisions by the Council. I couldn't wait for dad and Congress to appoint a Mediator so I could get out of there.

True to form, as soon as the meeting was gone, Professor Hildebrand dragged me into the Professor's lounge across the way and handed me a ten page final exam on calculus. I passed, I was pretty sure when I was done, but how well I'd done I wasn't sure. She smiled at me and told me it was another lesson in the real world for me. I was obligated to take a test today and finals waited for no one. Over dinner I learned that dad had recommended a temporary Mediator and Congress had voted unanimously to appoint dad's son, who was already in Utah, to that post for thirty days until a permanent replacement could be found that would handle the post until a civil government was elected democratically.

I almost wanted to kill him at that point.

We talked by teleconference again, and this time I gave him a piece of my mind for this, and he gave me a piece of his mind right back, which shut me up instantly. Then in a very stern voice he told me what he expected from me as his Mediator, what he wanted done and not done for the next thirty days, and told me he'd be sending me a written list in a few days. He finished by telling me what arrangements were to be made for the five kids in the back of my plane, and how he wanted anyone handled that I found knew about the abilities I shared with them. There was some leeway based on who it was and how much they knew, but either way he wanted to be sure that no hint of the true nature of our abilities were known outside the select group.

That was why after dinner, as the sky darkened into night, I finished a broadcast on television and radio to the people of Utah as the Federal Mediator. The broadcast was to be repeated for the next day, but reports started coming in that fighting throughout the state had stopped by the time I went to bed.

In the morning, the plane was moved to a large hangar that had once belonged to a now-defunct airline. Cots were set up in the Guard cabin for the new members of my circle. At first Major Unger insisted they be removed from the plane, but he was finally convinced having helped me kill and escape from the Prophet, they likely wouldn't be safe elsewhere, and their actions had earned them a safe place here.

The next morning, I was interviewed by the reporter that had come with the plane and the mild dislike I'd felt for him bloomed into a strong dislike. His name was Bob Baker and he'd once been a leading correspondent for a major network and now resented having not been given a plum assignment by the newly incorporated and private news corporation NBS (it was the same organization set up right after the nuclear bombs fell, and those men and women who had first started it were made the 'directors' of the corporation and they'd received generous grants from the government to fund operations until advertisements brought in enough revenue to operate. Commercials once again went out across the airwaves, but the government was the purchaser of most of them.) As I waited for the interview to begin, I noticed a small monitor sitting just out of the camera angles that was showing the current picture that was being broadcast. Genevieve never used such a thing and I wondered if it was here so Baker could see himself on camera.

"This is Bob Baker, special correspondent for NBS, aboard what many are coming to unofficially call Air Force 3, with Dylan Jacobs." The reporter stated as he began his live interview. The lights had been set up and I was sitting in a seat next to him, in front of my desk. The heavy, red, curtains were drawn so that my bed wasn't visible, and the security door was shut as well. He'd been given a tour of the main deck of the plane (the kids in the Guest cabin had been moved temporarily to the aft galley below the main deck until his film crew was back setting up in my cabin. "Mr. Jacobs, you've had a very rough few days, haven't you?"

"It hasn't been the easiest few days of my life." I admitted warily.

"We've been told that two days ago, you and Assistant Secretary of State Paul Holt were kidnapped by men working on behalf of the man who called himself the Prophet." Baker stated in a voice that was far too enthusiastic for my taste. "Is that an accurate statement?"

"Yes, that is an accurate statement" I answered, not wanting to run my mouth and say too much here. Dad had been very clear on exactly what I would, and would not say.

"How did that happen?" Baker asked, but didn't wait for an answer. "I've just been given a tour of your aircraft, the tape of which will be aired later, and I must say this place seemed to be more secure than anything I've ever seen. You have a lot of soldiers here guarding you. How did they fail to protect you?"

"I was the one who failed them." I said angrily and he blinked in surprise. "My staff advised more caution when it was recommended that we hold a dinner here on the plane, and I went ahead and allowed the dinner to take place. We found out at that dinner how the Prophet operated, and my security staff's concerns were proved correct."

"Exactly what happened?" Baker asked in an excited tone.

"I don't want to go into too many details." I said immediately. "Preliminary evidence is showing that the Prophet and his supporters were using children to administer mind-altering substances that rendered the subject…vulnerable to commands from others. How they developed these drugs we're still investigating, but it is likely the drugs and the records of their development were lost when the Prophet's compound burned down in the fighting that took place last night."

"So, they tried to use these drugs on you but it didn't work?" He pressed.

"No, I got suspicious at the last moment and prevented the drug from being administered to me without being detected." I said. "When that happened, the negotiating team produced some type of sleeping gas that knocked us out. They then removed Mr. Holt and myself from the plane. Apparently they only brought one dose of the drug and had to return to the Prophet's compound for more."

"What was their purpose in trying to drug you?" He asked sharply.

"Their purpose was to persuade Mr. Holt and me to support a Utah independent of the United States and to possibly use me to get to the President, my father." I answered and could see him take in a deep breath. "How exactly that would happen, I'm not sure and I doubt it would have worked, but the attempt was made."

"How did you get away?" Baker asked critically. "How do we know that they didn't succeed?"

"Shall I say first that Utah is now and will be forever a part of the United States, just as every other state in this Union?" I asked him with a critical tone of my own. "Shall I point out the Prophet is dead and so are most of his followers?"

"How exactly did that happen?" He asked. "I'm amazed one fourteen year old boy could manage to slip away like that."

"It wasn't one fourteen year old boy." I stated firmly. "When we went there, it was Mr. Holt and I there. The Prophet wanted to gloat over having captured me, and in the process of his gloating he made a vital mistake. I was able to seize the side arm of one of his guards. Some of them sought to subdue me, as did the Prophet and his advisors, while others stood back, choosing to not assault me. After the fighting was over, they helped me escape from the building at great personal risk to themselves. Mr. Holt died in the fight, unfortunately. We escaped from the compound, returned to the plane and took off into the air."

"So you killed people, including this Prophet in your escape?" He asked sharply and I had to bite back an urge to yell at him to get out.

"Some people died, yes." I admitted in a flat voice.

"But you personally killed some of these people?" He pushed and I had to take a deep breath before I told him to get out, something that wouldn't be wise since this was a live interview.

"I'd prefer not to relive that particular experience." I told him, my voice trembling slightly. I swallowed again and felt a little calmer, less angry. "I took no action that wasn't necessary."

"Were you aware that there were security cameras in the hallways of the palace?" He asked me, and I shook my head in surprise. Surely he couldn't have gotten any evidence.

"If you look over here at this monitor," He said and now I knew why the thing was there. On the screen was a picture of the group moving out of a doorway. It was from the garage and was taken as Chris and Matthew were helping me into the Prophet's vehicle. My face was clearly visible, as were theirs, and I winced at the sight of me, covered literally with blood across my face and my chest. No wonder Neil had been afraid of me.

"How did you get that?" My voice was a low hiss of surprise and anger.

"Were these two young men some of those who helped you out?" He asked me and I nodded.

"Why was there so much blood on you?" He asked me. "Were you injured?"

"A few bruises and scrapes." I said in a very low voice. Martha appeared in the doorway with a look of concern on her face and I hoped she'd demand the interview be ended, but instead she mouthed the words 'calm down'. I took a deep breath. "The blood belonged to others."

"The people you killed?" He pressed on harder, a gleam in his eyes.

"Do you take pleasure in the deaths of others?" I asked him, and saw him react with surprise at my words. Martha was frantic now, telling me to calm down. I took a deep breath and spoke again before he could react. "Sorry, it's just that killing other people is not something I like. I've seen far too much death for someone my age, but I think that so have many other Americans. Death sickens me, and I'd be happy if I never saw it again."

"But you didn't hesitate to use force, did you?" He said in a voice touched by hints of anger at my outburst. "You didn't hesitate to kill your father's enemies and end up covered in their blood, did you?"

"I did not hesitate to kill enemies of the United States when they threaten the safety of our citizens, or are leaders." I answered in as calm a voice as I could. "We came here, in good faith to negotiate an end to the dispute between the leaders of Utah and the federal government. They chose instead to use drugs, violence, and force to subvert our officials and potentially to assume control of the United States the way they assumed control of Utah. They killed this state's leadership after using drugs to gain power, they emasculated the National Guard units that would have opposed them, and they forced their viewpoints on the people of this state, forcing many to move to farms and work under harsh conditions. They executed people for not agreeing with their religious beliefs. We're finding plenty of evidence of this already. That they sought to extend their reach across America is clearly evident by their kidnapping of me."

"We'll be back after this commercial break." Baker said with a smile into the camera as one of his crewmen held up a hand and said we had one minute.

"Watch your line of questioning!" Lt. Martha Ellington said immediately after that. She was glaring at the reporter harshly.

"These are legitimate questions!" He retorted immediately.

"Martha, I'm fine." I said quickly and she looked at me, stepping back to the doorway and glaring at the reporter, who glared back until his crewman started counting down from ten.

"And welcome back, this is Bob Baker with Dylan Jacobs broadcasting live from Air Force 3 in Utah." The reporter stated with a smile at the camera and then turned back to me as he continued. "Mr. Jacobs, you were just giving a speech about the alleged atrocities of your father's enemy, can you…"

"Excuse me." I broke in with a calm, firm voice. "First of all, this man was not my father's 'enemy'. I resent your attempt to make me sound like a hit man sent by a mafia boss to eliminate the competition. I was sent here to help Mr. Holt in negotiating with this Prophet and his men. We came in good faith, acted in good faith and were attacked. Mr. Holt and I were kidnapped, and the Prophet attempted to use subversive means to weaken the government of the United States of America. I used what force was necessary, and no more than that to escape a bad situation. If the Prophet and his people had not attempted to use deadly force, to kill me in order to keep me from escaping his attempted kidnapping, I would not have used deadly force. The truth is, they tried to kill me and thanks to the training of the men and women of our armed forces, I survived. The fact that I only got out of there with the help of people from the inside proves that I was not on a rampage like you tried to imply, and I'm not a blood-thirsty murderer, as you also tried to imply. If you have legitimate questions, ask them and I will answer with the truth. Otherwise your network might want to consider a reporter who wants to find out the truth, not satisfy his prurient interests in blood and death."

"You're not blood thirsty?" He asked, now totally pissed off. "Then why were there bodies strewn all over this airport when I arrived?"

"Probably because they were trying to kill me and the people that helped me escape." I answered more calmly. "The security team on my plane had received a message from me that I was returning and when the guards at the airport opened fire on the vehicle I was in, the men and women whose job it is to protect me did what was necessary to save my life. Nothing more, nothing less. Are you trying to say they should have stood back and watched these guardsmen kill me and the people who helped me escape?"

"But their bodies were left on the pavement to rot during the day!" The man shot back with a frown. "It was one of the most sickening sights I've ever seen!"

"Oh, sorry." I said softly. "I only hope that is the worst sight you'll ever see. As to why they were left there, what should we have done? Sure, we could have stopped from taking off, gotten off the plane again and tried to bury the bodies. Of course we didn't know if there were still people out there who would love to kill one of us, or if there were supporters of the Prophet heading to the airport to try to stop us from leaving. According to your statement, we should have cared more for the bodies of the people who'd tried and failed to kill me than about getting to safety. Is that what you mean, Mr. Baker?"

"Stop twisting my words!" He snapped at me in angry.

"Then stop trying to imply things with what you're saying." I said calmly. "Ask objective, relevant questions and we'll end this war of words."

"What do you think about your appointment as the Interim Federal Mediator for Utah?" He asked after a moment of dead quiet. "Do you think a fourteen year old is capable of doing the hard work that is necessary?"

"What do I think about it?" I stalled for a moment, trying to decide how to answer. It really was a legitimate question. "I'm both honored and upset. I'm honored that the President and Congress would think so highly of me to grant me this honor, and I'm upset because I would rather be at home relaxing or going to classes like a normal kid. As to whether I'm capable or not, I think that with the support of my Professors and the people around me, I will be able to accomplish the tasks I have been set. If I am not capable, I will inform the President immediately. This is not a game we're playing here, this is the real world and I will not allow my flaws to hold people back or hurt them."

"You've had some very stressful days recently." Baker said, switching tactics. "What did you do last night after your meeting with the Utah Delegation?"

"I took my calculus test." I said with a frown.
"Excuse me?" He asked in surprise.

"Yesterday was my calculus final." I explained with a small smile now. "My Professor told me that just because I was a little busy, I shouldn't think I'd be allowed to skip a scheduled test. It was awful. I didn't even have a chance to study, I just had to take the thing."

"Do you think you passed?" He asked and I smiled.

"Yeah." I admitted softly. "I'm just not sure if I got an A or a B. I guess I might not get a 4.0 g.p.a. at Harvard after all. I just hope mom and dad aren't too upset with me for not studying like I should have."