hadn't seen such action since his Major days of the double-wars... He now had a resounding respect for Little-horse. And a full-military-citation was in order. The impact of Bo's duty had reached into the interior of Iraq. A definitive division of intensity and intention.
Bo's vision had been the careful realization of obliging and duty, were fulfilled with the careful, cognitive and concision of a native-American. His General knew the native-American kind that perhaps being a hero had run-deep in the blood of a once native-warrior. War was never good for the young-frontier of American west to the difficult frontier of a Middle-Eastern country each had wanted no more violence. And that blood-shed was no more a reality than a necessary of two men divided against a rule of peace. Bo would see the terrorist blow himself and four of his, and several hotel residents while the Seals moved-in.
Jeuai spent the last-moments of his life watching the sun come in through his window on the ninth floor. The evening calm had kept the room cool all-night. The evident reality was his unsuccessful attempt at being unified. World destruction and fanaticism of a mortal, would lead to the killing of his fellow-aspirers... To overturn and inject a defiance, against there resolving-hopes of those wanting-hope. Luckily, men are not all inane-duly respective. A desire for honor, hope and peace spoke-louder than the prejudicial-reversion of narrow-minded men. The an epoch-of social-amelioration, was formed. He sat looking contently east, wondering what will happen to his followers. About, how things were once on the good-side of the law. And its many faceting-implications. The interstitial faith, he once had of personal-values, not fixate, faction or flailing. Of the human-passions, and not feted-finite...
He was not sorry, but there was regret and sorrowed, but also fear. A fear in other-times meant hate. A fervor-hatred from men and culture, residing in actuality in the back-country of Iraq. He'd seen the country come out of war. A time of reputed-resound of an underscore and scale that left behind what was the superlative man, of a developing world... ...For an ardent dispersion, extrication. An adverse, advocate of outer-virtue and dispassion that was possibly, pro-faction of in-ordinate expulsion... The mortal-sense had become limited of the marginal-dissent of a people he deeply, loved and believed. Yet their course would go on like the river Euphrates which had once ran with native and foreign blood. Perhaps it was not his or theirs time. Alla would protect them. He'd prayed for passage to the promise-land. To divorce from what his people believed was 'ungodly' and 'impure'. The many civilizations upon the land of Iraq [once Persia] had come and gone leaving its people scared and alone to carry-on. Perhaps it would continue on in solemn duty of 'God'.
Dependability, had been set upon a worthy re-fractured people. What Bo accomplished was the synthesis by balance. Which he used for good. A greater-good of ideas and interests. The universal-propensity to advocate in cognitive and in-virtue, the new-ratification and rational by what was a coming-together interceding. An un-impetuous, pre-various to proceed and project obligate provision-of heart and honor. And arduous, prevail ended in the promise and deed to move-forward. The infinitive, elation charged and given to men in dedicated, approach a divan of personal, social and culture need-for hope for today and tomorrow for all. The plot and plan were indemnity by fault and fruition. It originated in the isolated and distress of a once disheveled and repeatedly distraught by strident times and testament from the many contest and conquest over time... The embrace laws of heritage, history and disturbed religion... All being the resurrection against, rather than love, hope and peace. The under-sated realities never seeing their worthy revealing...
The study and understanding of Islam its people and the pundit of fervor-religion of poignant and pretense. In what was a prideful and promise ob-turned by berating and ominous men. It had been a very short time since the end of the provision-war... A summation of a killing-field to seem ornately, subjective. The pre-seminal of rights and losses, which can be overcome but not totally, forgotten. A future-'fodder' and foster, in what was a warrior class outlander. Of ancient and rustic revelation to be in-sensed by time and tradition. A regency and wariness, befalling the hopes of young and intelligent men. The conceiving by despair and disturbance-avid and advocate, to the negative-notoriety. It, being a transition still an oracle of in-terminal, the essential-dissolution of terse and outward trans-conviction. An enamored and proliferated-'loss', and the progenitor reliance and aversion to expound the truism-vision of collusion. The unredeemed losses, suffering and fears of anything foreign. The ancient rite of inalienable resignation.
Simi Adonela, was a man of the people yet he’d ceded against magnanimous for and verbose, ensured... The dispose and despot of negative prospects of atoned rights and fears. The necessary dispense with alter-conformity. What had become adamant personal, social and political, diversion. Of the faultiness and loss to reinvent the conspicuous disposing; culminating into people in pervasive, conspiring. There had been many etchings into the minds of mortal-men. Of illogic, contempt and abrasion. Innocently, and implying, spelled-out the many despairs of personal virtue and emotional vehemence... What had been an 'art'-of authority of arising became the loathing and lament of once venerate choice... It was not Jeuai or Simi totally, collective; it was the ‘vortex’ of vigil and vocal that became a re-venerate of the a-socially, sublime. It was, over-time, a re-concision of devotion, which was necessary healing.
...The people of his family-village, deep in native-territory; his remains would be buried. As a leader, he’d be given a special ceremony. As a warrior of Alla, and in the Iraqi newspaper that as a former politician and brother of the homeland. He’d be forgotten, his followers would be disbanded-back into simple tribesman. The tribal-collective being no-longer actual. Old men would simply-guide the young, would follow the Elders in the Bedouin life. Forgetting, and remaining people of the outland.
The ambition would be left to government-holders. And what was a once relevance of an honored man. His place would diminished to only a name on a ‘grave’. The winter would last for two more months and then the arrival of spring and the planting season. The crops and harvest would be the most important in the village. People would enjoy the setting of times tourist would come and go, improvements and assistance would carry on with the bettering of times. Outlanders would visit the city for their needs and the maturing youth would aspire to go and stay and do other things. And so the prosperity of times would circulate among the cultures and customs. Perhaps the simple-purveying had looked-back self-ceding, too long. The tenable-choice of fear and loss-away, was too demanding and diversionary. In the flame of war of killing and destruction had hardened too many hearts. But being a ‘heart’, it comes to heal and move-on. The regime was now renewed a people would take care of its own in due time.
...Bo Jon had sat with the General, his men and several National Security agents which had just gotten on the case. They were the official agent for the government. He had reach a deep and serious contention, they were politely, surprised that Bo had solved the crime so soon; there was a series of official adjuncts waiting for the cause to act. They went from the President, to the Pentagon, to Cape Canaveral, to Iraq all were awaiting orders... The bomb-squad had disposed of the explosive-device which would have blow, the entire craft to bits. All personnel sides and Martianauts were officially, given the okay. This had taken 78-hours and now, the final-stand-down was called into order and was now at an end-point. Everyone had acted with reverence. The clues pointed to Jeuai or Simi Andonela former Ambassador and Iraqi national.
After the third day, the massive explosion in the Arnald Hotel within the city of Dubai blew the upper-floors to rock the foundation of the immaculate-building; eight people were known to have been killed. Five-men including Jeuai were found-in the ruins. It was a solemn reality. The U.S. government expressed sympathy. But the President said the world would hold together and advance the greatest mission of all man-ki
nd... It was a grand-mission, and the world was ready. Six days after the death of Jeuai, and the exact-factors of the incident, the Mars mission-craft Star-fire restarted its count down. There was one last-intent of the Martianauts after the event of the past week was over. Their was Champagne, fireworks and a final-party, celebrating a welcome time-off.
Envisioned and touched by the honored resolve through the world, world-salutation to honor the new realm. From Japan to Singapore; China to Russia to Eastern-Europe to Australia; African to the Americas and all-points in-between. The world had matured and settled, what had been a saga of sanctimoniousness. Bo Jon was invited to the NASA center to witness it. He was honored.
...’10..9..8...7...’ -The countdown was begun, ‘Let’s light this candle’, said Commander. P.L, and within 12-minutes the huge vessel exploded far above for the month's orbit to Mars...
The End.
'Star-fire'-A Bo Jon Little-horse p.i. novel Page 18
