Free Sunrise: Wrath & Righteousness: Episode Ten by Chris Stewart Page A

changed his mind, screwed the lid back on and put the bottle back. Locking the door, he moved silently back to the desk.
    The door to the office was open and there was constant traffic up and down the hall. Someone appeared in the doorway and both of them turned instantly, their eyes expecting. “Have they made a decision?” Sara blurted out before Brucius could even say anything. The young lieutenant looked at her, uncertain what she was even talking about. Information regarding the three Justices had been very tightly controlled.
    Sara shot a quick look to Marino and looked embarrassed. “Sorry,” she almost said before he cut her off.
    “Yes?” Marino asked the lieutenant.
    “Sir, would you like me to bring you up some sandwiches?”
    Brucius motioned toward Sara. “You must be hungry. Why don’t you let them get you something?”
    She shook her head. She was far too nervous to eat.
    Brucius waited, giving her a chance to change her mind, then turned to the young lieutenant. “You got any tuna fish?”
    “I’m sure we could find some, sir.”
    “That’d be nice. With horseradish sauce and mayonnaise. And lots of Tabasco™.”
    Sara smiled. It reminded him of her husband and her sons. In her mind, she could hear them in the kitchen of the old house in Virginia knocking down plates of chips and salsa sprinkled with the various hot sauces Neil had collected from around world, some of them deadly to a normal person with any taste buds left.
    Brucius studied her. “What are you smiling about?” he asked.
    She shrugged her shoulders. “Just thinking.”
    They fell silent once again. Marino bent down and placed the key back inside the desk drawer. Sara walked toward the door and glanced down the hall that ended at a set of double doors. Two guards were posted there, submachine guns (more effective if less imposing) held at the ready in their hands. She watched them, knowing the Justices were working behind the heavy wooden doors. Staring down the hallway, thinking of the court and the direction they would take the country, thinking of the men who had conspired to steal their freedoms, her husband’s whispered words came again into her mind, the sudden warning he had told her in the darkness of the night.
    “ There are men around the president who want to destroy our country ,” he had said.
    She had stared at him, unbelieving.
    “ He has put them in position within the government but he doesn’t know who they really are or what they’re willing to do. They will kill him if they have to. Our government survival isn’t assured .”
    Looking back, she realized even her husband hadn’t understood how dangerous the conspirators really were.
    Pulling her head back into the room, she glanced down at her watch again.
    Sighing, she took a breath.
    Why was time passing so slowly ?”

THIRTEEN
Along the Pakistan/Afghanistan border, fifty-two miles east of Kandahar, Afghanistan
     
    Omar turned to the village leader. He was a tall man, thin, his arms nimble but strong. He’d had a hard life – life on the mountain was hard – but his trials hadn’t hurt him; quite the opposite, they’d made him softer, more patient, more willing to suffer, more inclined to do good. His faith was strong, his gratitude for every day of life full and genuine. He had children of his own now and he loved them as much as any man.
    Which was the only hope that Omar had; this man’s faith in his God and His love for His creations, especially those who were small and vulnerable.
    But it could go either way. The love for his children could lead to compassion or it could lead to fear. If his compassion proved the greater, he would allow sanctuary for the child. If fear for his family was stronger, he would send them both away.
    Omar held his breath and waited.
    The sun was barely breaking over the sheer mountain peaks behind him. The ground was squishy and soft beneath his feet from three days of constant rain. The air was cool and clear