Savas listened uneasily. He felt dizzy, standing on the precipice of his own thoughts and soul, looking down into the abyss that called and tempted him even now.
“That is why I am here, and that is why you could be here with me, instead of holding a gun to my face. You have tortured yourself with delusions that protecting Muslims from me is the same as protecting us from them. That cannot be more wrong. We are the defenders, John Savas. We wage a war of survival against a many-headed beast. But we do not chase the heads stupidly. We bring fire to purge the creature from the world.”
Savas shook his head, keeping his gun raised and aimed. “You cannot set fire to the world to rid it of weeds.”
Gunn took another step toward Savas, his eyes earnest, his tone nearly pleading. “Join us in this fight! There will not be any real change in your design, only in your means. A change in means is required for any hope to exist that order can finally defeat chaos.”
“This isn't a Norse myth, Gunn! This is real! With real nations, real people, real chaos, and death you are bringing. If you do this thing, it will burn out of control.”
Gunn stepped forward. “This thing we do is but the first step, Agent Savas. Do you think we have built this organization only to blow up a few mosques and deliver one bomb, however potent? Our attacks, together with the world war to come, will ensure the total destruction of the Islamic threat.”
Savas could hardly believe what he was hearing. “You are a madman.”
Gunn clenched his jaw. “Perhaps. I cannot waste more time with you. I know still that you will not stop me here. What I plan is too important, too close to your own desires. If you kill me, and you take from the world the hope for the deliverance that I will bring, you will betray your nation, yourself, and everyone who died at the hands of these murderers. I know you cannot do that. Put the gun down, Agent Savas. You will not shoot me.” William Gunn turned around and walked briskly toward the helicopter.
Savas shouted. “Don't make me do this!”
Gunn did not pause or turn around. Savas struggled to pull the trigger. He saw himself in the shape that walked away from him, understood the man's pain, the knife's edge that separated them and their choices. Few could understand that pain, and the anger born of helplessness, the mad desire to strike back in fury. All of that burned like acid within the soul.
But he had already found himself in that darkness. He would not return. Savas aimed the weapon carefully.
Suddenly, a vehicle came speeding onto the tarmac, and a black town car flew recklessly across his field of vision, coming to a screeching halt between him and Gunn. A blond man leaped out, and Savas reacted instinctively to what he saw by diving toward the ground. The older soldier landed sure-footed on the asphalt with a machine gun in his right hand.
Gunfire erupted around Savas as he rolled desperately to escape it. To his amazement, gunshots also arose from behind him. The bullets suddenly ceased exploding around him. The assailant had fallen against the hood of the car, clutching his chest. He lay back, sliding slowly down the curve of the hood, and dropped to the concrete surface with a slap.
At that moment, Frank Miller came limping slowly onto the scene, his leg bloodied, his face black and covered in soot, an automatic weapon in his hand. He was followed by Cohen and Michael Inherp. They stood, discombobulated, staring back and forth between Savas and the retreating figure of Gunn, not understanding the dynamic. Then, the three watched John Savas stand up, aim his weapon, and pull the trigger.
The single gunshot was nearly swallowed in the noise of the helicopter. William Gunn arched his back, paused a split second, then crumpled to his knees on the tarmac, rolling slowly to his side. The helicopter pilot panicked, and throttled up and away from the site, leaving a blast of air and the strange and heavy silence that follows exposure to loud noises. From the distance, they watched Savas walk forward toward Gunn and kneel beside him.
Blood pooled underneath the CEO. The bullet had been well aimed, entering near the heart. Gunn gazed upward at Savas, his eyes partially glazed over in pain, life draining quickly from his body. His mouth moved slowly, his voice soft on the air.
“Why?” he gasped.
Savas stared sadly at the dying man. “I will fight the monsters, Mr. Gunn. I will not become one. You became the worst of them all, and I had to stop you.”
William Gunn slowly released a final breath, his eyes rolled back into his head, and he spoke no more. Savas looked up to see the others approach. He stood and embraced Cohen tightly.
“Oh, God, John.” She looked down at the body. “He's dead?”
Savas nodded, pulling her away from the lifeless form, and turning her to face the sea. “But he died a long time ago.”
They held each other, gazing up into the blue as the sun reached higher into the sky and morning moved toward afternoon. Suddenly, there was a strange sight. Another light grew in intensity in the blue, until it became a bright star vainly trying to rival the sun. The four stood there in the blowing wind, the sounds of flames and sirens ringing, smoke pouring across the airfield, watching the display of two stars seeming to rise in the eastern sky.
“Well, looks like something went wrong with their plan,” said Savas. “Detonated a little too soon.” He smiled at the others. His grin faded at their somber faces.
Miller spoke first. “Husaam was on the plane, John. He jumped on as it left for takeoff.”
At that moment, several fighter planes blasted low over the airfield, shaking the ground with their sonic vibrations. They flew from the west heading out over the sea, pulling up into the sky between the two suns, as the smaller star quickly dimmed and surrendered its pretenses to the brighter light.
Savas closed his eyes. So many deaths. Yet, so many deaths prevented. He looked down at the body of William Gunn — mastermind, wounded titan, madman. He thought of Husaam Jordan — Muslim, once an object of his hatred, who sacrificed his life for so many. He glanced over toward the car where another deluded soul, misled by William Gunn, like so many others, had just lost his life.
The ground was empty. Savas turned around and drew his weapon, while Miller and Inherp looked over cautiously. But there was nothing to be seen. The body of Patrick Rout was not there.
68
The new month began with hopeful signs across much of the world. The US government's dramatic thwarting of the terrorist plot to use a nuclear weapon helped to restore relations between Western nations and the OPEC countries. With the lifting of the oil embargo, stocks around the world recovered dramatically, and military buildup in the Persian Gulf was reversed, decreasing tensions in what had become a highly volatile situation.
Anger still boils underneath the surface in many countries, however, as leaders express dismay that the United States could allow a nuclear weapon to be stolen and not report the incident. With the explosion above the Gulf of Mexico, the current administration has been left scrambling to explain its silence, and congressional leaders of both parties have called for a thorough investigation.