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.."She gasped and opened her eyes.Reality shifted.Heather feels as if she has a need to gasp at the oppressive odor of rot and the icy chill. The dark hangs over her like a lead weight held by a single frayed string. Moisture gathers in shallow pockets in mildewed corners, and the stones radiate cold into the musty air. A pall of brackish mist floats through the chamber like oil on water.She can feel all these things, yet it is unreal. She is here and not here. When she "looks" around, she watches the scene twist and stretch in some surrealist's canvas. She can feel, but she has no body.Heather gasps, or believes she does, when the footsteps once more fall against the neglected stones."I have brought it. I have forced them to relinquish it."Emerald light washes over the walls of the chamber. The man in the trench-coat passes, facing away. She cannot get the scene to turn so she can see his face. Even the voice is distorted, echoing despite the tight confines of the room. She sees the. He planned a long and painful death for Caleb Connor and his little family. 'If the snipers have killed the civilian, the snipers would take his place, ' he decided."When will the captured woman be here?" Robert demanded of his assistant, Aimal."The truck should be here in fifteen minutes, Mullah Hassan," Aimal assured Abdul with a respectful bow of his head.His answer was greeted by a snort of frustration. Aimal had noticed the Mullah demonstrating many signs of frustration in recent weeks. It was not a trait Aimal expected to see in a revered, or feared, teacher of Islam.Aimal Saeed Al-Kassem was originally from Saudi Arabia. He had initially entered the United States on a student visa, and had remained on a work visa as a Professor at a community college. Eventually, he was allowed to become a naturalized citizen, and began teaching at larger and more prestigious colleges.In reality, Aimal had been recruited at an early age to be part of an intelligence network for the House of.
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