by Karl Morgan
"There was some footage on LIFE showing a man healing two other men. I think it was in San Diego, but I'm not certain," Alice said. "I haven't seen the video, but these things are always forgeries."
Alexis unmuted the phone and said, "Marco, you know many videos on LIFE are staged, right?"
“Of course I know that. However, this one seems too real. I've seen two separate videos, and my people say there is no sign of tampering. Perhaps you should see for yourself. I will talk to you soon. Adios." The line was disconnected.
Tom came back into the room with his face as white as a ghost. "What Andrade said is true, Madam President. The city and caliphate army were obliterated."
"Okay. I need all of you to keep on top of the situation, especially as it affects our homeland directly. Phil, I want to have a contingency force in Central America in twenty-four hours. I don't think we can trust the UASR. Tom, find out everything you can about this Joshua Carpenter. I'm sure it's a red herring, but we have to check since other world leaders seem to know about it before me. That's it."
"Excuse me, Madam President, but who is this Carpenter fellow?"
"I'll fill you in, Tom," Alice replied.
§
The sun was high overhead as Josh and Shirley sipped white wine on the patio of the large winery. Two dozen small tables surrounded their own, and visitors were happily chatting away about the weather and the different wines they had been sampling here and at other vineyards nearby. Shirley looked stunning in her pink and white sundress while she related her life story to Josh. She had been born and raised in Montgomery in the Alabama sector of the Southeast District. Her father was a pastor and her mother a school teacher. Josh's phone vibrated and he glanced at the flashing red light. "Go ahead. I know how you like to keep up with the news," she said.
"It will only take a second."
He pressed the light and a female voice said, "There are a number of reports of terrorist bombings in the American Republic. Explosions have been reported in Washington, New York City, Los Angeles, and San Diego. We will keep you informed as more details emerge."
"Josh, your parents!"
He picked up the phone and pressed the number one key. "Mom, are you guys okay? I heard about the bombing."
"We're fine, honey. The attack was downtown near City Hall. Where are you? Are you safe?"
"I'm with Shirley Cambridge at a winery. We're fine. Let me know if you learn anything else, Mom."
"Okay, will do. I love you."
"I love you too." The line disconnected. "They're fine." He pushed his phone into his pocket and took a drink of wine.
"Who do you think is behind this? Is it the caliphates like in the past?"
He sighed and said, "I don't know. I can see why they'd attack in Asia or Africa where their borders are contested, but why here? It doesn't make any sense!"
"Sometimes bad things just happen. Only God knows why. That's what my dad used to tell me."
A sense of dread flooded into Josh's mind. He felt as though all the light and happiness in the world was suddenly drained away. He began to shiver.
"Josh, what's wrong?"
He did not answer. He could not find words to express the terror and pain he felt at this moment. The image of Shirley lying dead in a pool of blood seared into his brain. Around him, the people and tables were shattered and scattered. The sky was dark with clouds and rain that sizzled when it hit the ground.
"Josh, answer me!" she demanded.
Then he knew. He stood up and began to walk toward the entrance to the patio, where several more people were arriving for a wine-tasting. Shirley called after him, but he did not have time to listen. He could sense her running toward him now. There he was. Thirty feet in front of him, a young man was striding forward, with a large backpack over his shoulders and a small device clutched in the palm of his right hand. When the man saw Josh approaching, he stopped in his tracks.
Shirley grabbed Josh by the shoulder and spun him around. "What's wrong? Why aren't you listening to me?" Josh put his index finger to her lips without saying a word and turned around. The young man was approaching again, smiling an evil grin. He held up the small device to show its one flashing green light, just below his thumb. He started to run toward the entrance. He was barely five feet in front of them when Josh pushed his hands forward. Some force lifted the young man off the ground and he shot a hundred feet into the air and almost a half a mile away. The backpack detonated, showering acres of vines with nails, metal ball bearings, and shreds of the bomber.
"What did you do?" Shirley gasped. Josh sat on the parking lot and held his head in his hands. She sat next to him and put her arm around his shoulders. "Josh, talk to me, please! He was a suicide bomber, right?"
He looked at her and noticed tracks of tears on her cheeks. He brushed them away and lightly kissed her lips. "It was horrible, Shirley. At first I thought I was witnessing my own death. I felt totally lost and alone in a terrible universe, full of hatred and violence."
"But what about that man?"
"That's what I mean. I thought it was all happening in my head, but I was wrong. All of that was in his mind. He was the one suffering in horrible agony. Blowing all of us to pieces was his way of ending his fear."
"I still don't understand. How could killing us save him? It sounds crazy."
"She's right, you know," a bystander said. Josh looked up and noticed the crowd from the patio now formed a circle around them. Several of them were recording on LIFE.
Josh stood and helped Shirley to her feet. Then he walked over to the bystander and said, "Hi, I'm Josh."
She kissed him on the cheek and said, "Maryann. It's nice to meet you, and thank you for saving our lives." The crowd applauded politely.
"Maryann, that man was trapped in a delusionary nightmare. He felt the world was an angry, murderous place and only his act would release him from that dream. In the reality of his mind, the bombing was the only way he could find peace."
"I've never heard of such a disease. How miserable he must have been!"
"I don't think he had a mental illness at all. I think he was controlled," Josh replied. "Someone or something is making people do these terrible things. Someone wants global nuclear war, and we need to find out who that is." He took Shirley's hand and led her through the crowd and into a waiting wine-tour shuttle, which headed down the road toward its next stop.
§
President Carmichael was sitting quietly in the library in her personal residence in the White House. This was her favorite time of the day. Each day in the early afternoon, she would come up here, have a cup of tea, and be alone with her thoughts. Alexis felt this time helped ground her and put together the mass of information thrown at her daily into some perspective. Everyone knew to leave her alone for those few minutes, and so the normal schedule was squeezed until one half-hour was open. Today she was preoccupied with the state of the world. Terrorist attacks were occurring everywhere now at an unprecedented frequency. No region or government was exempted. She heard the door knob turning and watched to see whom she would have to berate for interrupting her quiet time today. Her twelve-year-old daughter Sally stuck her head through the opening. "What is it, honey?"
"May I show you something, Mom?"
"Of course, sweetheart, come in." The girl hurried over to her mother's side and handed her a tablet. "Sally, you know I don't pay attention to LIFE. It's a waste of time."
"Please mom, just look at this one. It will only take a minute."
Alexis frowned, but then took the device and tapped the play button on the screen. The person taking the video was sitting at a small table with a friend drinking wine. The surroundings looked like a fertile valley, and she assumed it was a vineyard somewhere. At the table just behind their own, a woman was shouting at her companion, who seemed not to listen. The man stood up and hurried toward the entrance, and the camera turned to watch the woman chasing after him. The person taking the video then stood and rushed
to catch up to them. The man was about to confront a third man approaching the patio when the first man pushed out with his hands, although not touching the third. As if struck by a bullet train, the third man shot into the air, flying hundreds of feet in less than a second. The man exploded in a large fire ball. All the patrons formed a circle around the young couple just as the video ended.
"Sally, you know these videos are all fakes, right?"
"No, Mom. There are several more taken at the same place from different angles, including feeds from LIFE cameras mounted there. Wasn't that the coolest thing ever?"
"That last man died, Sally. I hardly see that as cool."
Sally took her tablet angrily and headed to the door. She opened the door, turned and said, "That last guy had a backpack bomb, Mom. The man who stopped him is a hero." She strode out of the room and slammed the door behind her.
The president took her phone and pressed a button. "Yes, Madam President," National Security Advisor Tom Williams said.
"What have you learned about that Carpenter fellow?"
"You must have seen the Guadalupe Valley feeds."
"What?"
"Madam President, there was an attempted terrorist bombing in the Guadalupe Valley just south of San Diego. Joshua Carpenter was there. Somehow, he stopped the attack. I've seen the video and frankly, I don't get it. What he did is not possible."
"You're telling me that guy flying through the air and exploding was a terrorist?"
Tom chuckled. "I guess you did see it then. Yes, local police are on the scene and confirm the debris field is consistent with a terror weapon. Nails, ball bearings, and explosives were loaded in a backpack. The detonator was still in the bomber's hand when it and other body parts were found."
"We need to get control on this situation, Tom. Have the FBI or someone get their hands on this Carpenter fellow now. I want him debriefed and we need to know how he's doing all these things."
"Some are calling him an angel of God."
"Is that what you think, Tom?"
"Madam President, I think that's highly unlikely. However, if enough people believe that, we will have a hard time holding onto him."
"Tom, I don't want him held. I want him debriefed and an explanation, that's it."
"Yes, ma'am, I'll get right on it. But that leads to an interesting situation."
"What would that be, Tom."
"You have to imagine that a lot of leaders, businessmen, terrorists, and others are having this same conversation at this moment."
"Well, that's why you have to get him first, Tom."
"Of course, ma'am, don't worry, I can handle it. And by the way, your call with President Han is in ten minutes."
Alexis stood up and stretched. "Okay, tell the team I'll be down in five." She hung up the phone.
§
Shirley and Josh managed to stop at two more wineries before the press started to arrive on scene, looking for an interview with the man who stopped the bombing. She noticed the sense of dread rising in Josh and summoned a taxi to take them back to their hotel. When they arrived, a crowd was waiting outside. A doorman told the taxi to go to another entrance in the valet parking structure where they could slip in a side door and take a service elevator to their floor. As the elevator door opened, Shirley stuck out her head to make sure the hallway was empty, and then they hurried to their door, opened it, and stepped in, glad to be away from the madness.
"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Carpenter," a man's voice said from the sitting area. They froze and turned to see an older man wearing a dark blue business suit, white shirt, and red silk tie. Two other men stood on either side of him. "I must apologize for being in your room, but both of us would likely draw a crowd. I'm Hammond Finch, CEO of Finch Incorporated. These are my bodyguards, but please pay no attention to them."
"What do you want, sir?" Josh asked.
Finch sat on a chair and motioned them over. "Please have a seat and relax. I've ordered two bottles of champagne to help us celebrate."
"How did you get in our room, Mr. Finch?" Shirley asked.
"Celebrate what?" Josh asked.
"Please calm down, you two, don't worry, nothing bad is going to happen. I would like to discuss a business deal with you, Josh. May I call you Josh?"
"Sure, that's fine. And this is Shirley."
"I am very aware of Ms. Cambridge. If you don't mind me saying so, I'm surprised that you two would end up together." There was a knock at the door and one of the bodyguards went to answer it. "She seems to be a bit of a kook, if you know what I mean."
"Josh, in case you don't know, Finch Incorporated owns Second Chance, the largest manufacturer of bionic implants." The bodyguard returned with a cart holding two champagne bottles and four flutes. He began to open a bottle.
"Yes, and Shirley is not in favor of implants. Yet, you, Josh, are doing the most incredible things with yours. I'm not familiar with implants that can do those things. If you don't mind, could you tell me where you got them?" The bottle popped open and the bodyguard filled three flutes and gave one to each of them.
"I don't have any implants, Mr. Finch," Josh replied.
Finch looked stunned and glanced at his two guards as if looking for affirmation. "I find that hard to believe, son." He took a sip of champagne and considered these NEMs. "Would you consider having a scan so I can confirm that?"
Josh sipped his drink and replied, "I see no reason for that. Find a bionic that can do what I did, and maybe I'll let you scan me. I'm sorry if I disappointed you, sir."
"No, I'm not disappointed at all, Josh. A bit shocked, yes, but not disappointed. I still think that we can help each other. Maybe you could work for me." There was another knock at the door and the same bodyguard went to check on it.
"Doing what?" Josh asked.
"I'm not sure. I'm still flabbergasted that you're a NEM. Let me think on it and I'll call you." The bodyguard returned with two more men wearing black suits. "Can we help you gentlemen?"
The two men showed their badges. "I'm Agent Trance of the FBI and this is Agent Parker. Which of you is Joshua Carpenter?"
Josh stood up. "That's me. What can I do for you?"
"Mr. Carpenter, we would like you to come with us. We have some questions on LIFE video feeds we've seen."
"Am I under arrest?"
"No, sir, although we think your life might be in danger. Some of the video evidence is pretty provocative, and it is possible that others may wish you harm or attempt to kidnap you."
"What about my friend?" Josh said, motioning toward Shirley.
"We can leave an agent to escort Ms. Cambridge home." Agent Trance smiled and continued, "And we are certain Mr. Finch can take care of himself."
"Don't worry about Shirley," Finch said. "I'll take her anywhere she wants to go."
"It's okay, Josh, I'll be fine," she noted.
"Let me pack my things," Josh finished.
§
Two hours later, Josh found himself sitting at a small table in an interrogation room in the San Diego FBI headquarters. The two agents left him here twenty minutes ago and asked him to wait. He could hear muffled voices outside the door, but the sound was too soft to understand. He took another sip of the soda the agents left for him and pondered his situation. He had been blaming himself ever since the healing in front of the jail, but now his mind was changing. He could not have ignored the suicide bomber. If he had, Shirley and many others would be dead now, maybe even himself. Someone or something was drawing him into these events, almost as if it was his destiny. He chuckled. "Destiny? Now I'm the one sounding crazy," he said out loud. The room became suddenly quite chilly, and he suppressed a shiver. The door opened and a man with shoulder length brown hair entered and smiled at him. He closed and locked the door and sat on a chair opposite Josh. He was wearing worn jeans and a tee-shirt. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail. "Are you the person I'm supposed to talk to? You don't look much like the other agents."
"You'r
e right about that, Josh, I am nothing like them. My name is Chris," he said, extending his hand, which Josh shook. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Chris, but I would like to get out of here."
"Don't worry. I won't keep you but a moment, although I can't say how long the others will want to hold you. You see, I'm not with the FBI."
"Obviously, they wanted you to talk to me though, because here you are."
"Well, that seems reasonable, although it is not necessarily true. To tell the truth, they have no idea I am here."
"What? That's just nuts! I heard them talking on the other side of the door just before you came in. What's going on here?"
"Just relax; everything will be clear at the appropriate time. I can sense the angst in your heart, Josh. I want you to know that everything is happening for a reason. You suspect that you are being led down a path and being drawn into the madness now ensnaring the globe. I am here to tell you that is true. You were given incredible abilities, which you are only beginning to understand. You have been granted the power to save or destroy the planet, and I believe the wisdom to choose the correct path for humanity."
"Obviously, I want to stop the war before the world is destroyed."
"If that is what you choose, so be it."
"Huh? What's going on here, Chris? Who are you?"
The man stood and replied, "I just want you to be happy, Josh. I have faith in you and will see you again soon." He turned and walked out the door.
Josh's mind was reeling. Who was this odd fellow walking around the FBI office with impunity? Surely, the FBI was trying to shake him up.
"Josh, are you okay?" a man's voice said.
Josh woke and sat up straight. He did not remember falling asleep in the chair, and opened his eyes to see Agent Trance and a female agent standing across the table. Had the strange visitor been a dream? "I'm sorry, I don't remember falling asleep. I'm fine."
Agent Trance said, "Josh, you can call me Steve, and this is Agent Sadie Anderson. May we speak with you?"
