Darkness...

    Lee Brackett wiped the sweat beading on his brow and double-checked the hostages. A couple of them wanted water, a couple wanted to go home, and a couple wanted to go to the bathroom... Luckily, the staff here was well trained, and kept the kids reasonably calm... He shuddered inwardly at the thought of what would probably happen if anyone got out of line. He looked back at Yuri standing nonchalantly against the wall with that custom Steyr 5.56 he used levelled at the group, and knew that the Russian bastard would execute the whole crowd of them without batting an eye. It was ONE thing to be ruthless, he grimaced, but Yuri was as EVIL as anyone or anything he had ever HEARD of...

    Luckily, there was nothing out there that was any worse...

    "That's what YOU think," said Blair. "I'm not going ANYWHERE."
    "Come on, don't be that way," pleaded Susan. "The Angel is going to be REALLY pissed if you don't do your part..."
    "I don't CARE. I am not some psychotic revolutionary... I'm an anthropologist. I -STUDY- societies, I don't DESTROY them..."
    "Yeah, but think of it... How many anthropologists get to see the ACTUAL end of a society - as it HAPPENS? Pretty cool!"
    "NO! It is NOT. What Bobo has planned would be an apocalyptic disaster of DIZZYING cost. Body counts along the level of a World War. Blood in the streets. Destruction on a BIBLICAL scale..."
    "If it's any consolation, you're not to take part in The Sundering. Your part is AFTER..."
    "After the Sundering? What am I supposed to do?"
    "The Angel says you are uniquely qualified. More than that, such as HOW, he didn't tell me. Sorry."
    "Waitasec! Bobo knows I'm an anthropologist... That I know how all sorts of societies worked, and ended..."
    "Uh huh."
    "He also knows that my time with the police would have made me aware of at least what crime WAS, and that it should be punished."
    "Uh huh."
    "So, being a creature of LOGIC, Bobo would PROBABLY assert - since nature abhors a vacuum - that a NEW society would have to be installed to replace the old one..."
    "Wow, you're REALLY important!" squealed Susan as she caught on.
    "Wha-?" coughed Blair, losing his train of thought.
    "The Angel chose YOU to rebuild the WORLD. You're not just his Little Brother, you're his SUCCESSOR!"
    Blair fought very hard to keep from fainting as he digested that... "ME?" he said hoarsely.
    "Sure. What the Angel is doing is intensely dangerous - even for him. Once they find out what he's up to, his life probably won't be worth two cents. KNOWING this, the Angel had to choose someone that could carry on his work. Someone who was like he is, at least mostly..."
    "ME?" squeaked Blair again.
    "Of course, silly!" Susan chided. "Wow. The Angel's not just willing to kill to make the world better, he's already planned for the future in case he has to DIE to do it... How about you? Would you go to those extremes to SAVE the way that things are? Would ANYONE?"
    "The police do it everyday," retorted Blair, feeling his throat tighten with anxiety.
    "Fooey!" rebuffed Susan. "The police... Fat lot of good THEY do. They can't prevent anything bad from happening, so what purpose do they serve? I'll tell you... Picking up the pieces AFTER all the bad stuff ALREADY happened. And when they DO get killed, it's for NOTHING."
    "NOTHING?" shouted Blair. "I've SEEN people die. GOOD people. How DARE you say that they died for nothing!"
    "Oh? What GOOD came of their deaths? In the RARE occasions where their killer was actually caught, how many times did the perp get the chair? Heck, how many even served any TIME? It doesn't matter HOW you slice it, or in WHAT light you show it, they made NO difference with their sacrifice... To die for an empty ideal is the SAME as dying for NOTHING. Well, FUCK that. The QUESTION was; would YOU go to the same extremes as the Angel in order to OPPOSE him? Because if you -do- plan to go against the Master Plan, you're going to HAVE to KILL me... And when the Angel sees that you've turned away from him, you have to know that you'll NEVER be dead ENOUGH... So, for the THIRD time, would you KILL or DIE to preserve the way things are RIGHT NOW?"
Blair stared at the young woman, and the only word he could find was, "No."
    "Great! Then it's settled," Susan bubbled. "You probably want that juice now, huh?"
    "Y-yes... Please."

    "Please tell me," said the sharply dressed Italian. "What brings all you gentlemen to this neighborhood?"
    "That's a good question," replied Damon levelly. "Almost as good as what could bring -you- here all the way from uptown?"
    "Yo, man," said Gizmo. "We agreed to meet here to discuss the REAL problem."
    "That's right!" said Kalil. "All that other shit can wait for after..."
    "Much as I hate to say it," said a blonde as he shouldered his shotgun. "The boy has a point..."
    "Yo, I got your boy SWINGIN'," spat Kalil. "Fuckin' trailertrash biker shitbag Void."
    "ENOUGH!" shouted a Japanese. "This squabbling amongst each other does NOTHING. There is a problem that affects us all, much as before. Only THIS time, instead of striking US, they come after our CHILDREN. It is a terrible insult, and must be PUNISHED, as honor decrees."
    "Hey, whatever," said Damon. "All I know is we got about two thousand angry brothers and sisters - and that's including all three hundred some odd Dueces, and about the same in 357s..."
    "We have somehow gathered similar numbers," replied the Italian. "For some reason, people are adding to our ranks with every step we take. It's like nothing I've ever seen..."
    "Indeed," added the Japanese. "All told, there may be over eight thousand people between us - perhaps more... And everyone of us has the same idea in mind..."
    "Seek and destroy the invaders," nodded the Void. "Just like in 'Nam."
    "So, it seems that we are all on the same side," said the Italian. "Strange, no?"
    "A little," admitted Damon. "But this thing is bigger than the shit between us. Look around. All these people, they're not soldiers. They have nothing to do with what's between us... But they came out. As much as some of them hate us, or you, or whatever, that shit got sat aside. If these people can do that, and they AIN'T soldiers, how can all of US do - when we ARE soldiers."
    The Italian smiled. "Well said, my friend," he laughed. "Well said."
    "So, all there is to do is plan the attack... Careful, though, so they don't hurt the kids, nah mean?" said Gizmo.
    "I have some training with tactics," said the Void. "With all of us together, who would be STUPID enough to try and get in our way?"

    Jim finished getting dressed, flushing crimson at the fact that that strange woman hadn't left him to do it in privacy, but she hardly registered he was there in the first place. He'd probably be insulted if there was time for that sort of thing. As it was, this woman intended to lead him by the hand to a face to face with that monster as time ran out for the city... He prayed Simon would be able to get enough together to disarm those 'surprises' that Fiendish scattered across the city, but if they couldn't...
He shuddered. Remembering the locations of the surprises he had overheard on Simon's cellphone, he overlayed the points in question on his mental map of the city... And he shuddered again. Those points gave a set of blasts with an overlapping radius that would, if Bobo had gotten as much Semtex as he said, blow all of downtown Cascade to a fine POWDER. Even WORSE was downtown had some of the biggest gas mains, so him putting most of them in basements was doubtless intended to catalyze a gas explosion that would finish off whatever the Semtex didn't get... Come to think of it, that had to be the plan! The Semtex alone would do a bunch of damage, but when you figured it was just a TRIGGER for a MUCH -bigger- blast... Christ! They'd be able to see Cascade burning from SPACE!
But why? Surely Bobo would know that he'd go up in the blaze... Unless...
    That's what he WANTED.
    Christ, it all made sense now! Bobo wasn't an anarchist... He was a NIHILIST. Considering all he'd been through, it wouldn't be a far jump to think that Bobo would want to kill himself, but this? Why?

    Because it would be on HIS terms. He wants to have a LEGACY... Killing three million people in one stroke would sure do it.

    Jim almost fell at that epiphany, but the girl surprisingly caught him and righted him. "Be careful," she said.
    "Listen," said Jim, feeling the desperation creep into his voice, "you have to know that the man you follow is -"
    "An angel," finished the woman in that maddening monotone.
    "A PSYCHOPATH!" corrected Jim emphatically. "He's going to destroy the whole CITY!"
    "Evil must be punished."
    "Even if it kills innocent people?"
    "Name one."
    "What?"
    "You heard. Name one. Can you?"
    "What the hell are you talking about? I can't just name a totally innocent person! Nobody can!"
    "Ever consider why?"
    Jim stared at her, completely poleaxed.
    "Come, Shaman, time is growing short. If you like, we can debate on the way..."

    "....Okay," sighed Rafe as he finished configuring the uplink. "Testing, one, two, three.... Bravo Unit Clear. How do you receive?"
    "Audio check," replied Captain Banks. "Video check. You're set, Bravo. Stand by."
    "Standing by," acknowledged Rafe. He looked around... A store room in the damp basement of the Washington Federal Building held a gutted copy machine that was PACKED with electronic mechanisms with one purpose - detonating the one-hundred and forty pounds of Semtex that was ALSO in the copier. There were four others scattered about the city in an overlapping blast pattern that would FLATTEN Cascade. Whatever maniac set this up was DEFINITELY above and beyond anything the CPD EVER contended with, and time was running out... He looked at his watch, and it read three thirty-five. Eighty-five minutes until detonation, assuming the sick bastard was serious about the five o'clock deadline, and they were still setting up the commo for the disarming efforts! Best case scenario said that this was going to be a BAD patch...
    "This is Gamma Unit," said Inspector Megan Connor. "Testing, one, two, three... Gamma Unit Clear. How're you receiving, Cap'n?"
    "Audio check. Video check. You're loud and clear Gamma..."
    "We don't usually do this sorta thing, Cap'n," nudged Megan wryly.
    "Sorry, inspector," sighed Simon. "But we're shorthanded, and every available unit is stretched to the breaking point. Stand by..."
    "Understood. Standing by..."
    "This is Unit X-Ray," said Dr. Dan Wolfe, wincing inwardly at the irony of his callsign. "And I can't understand why I'm in this mess... Oh, yeah, testing. One-two. X-Ray clear."
    "We receive loud and clear, and sorry, X-Ray," replied Simon. "But like I was telling Gamma, we're stretched REAL thin. And since you've got steady hands and can follow orders, you get to step up..."
    "Gee, thanks," snorted Dr. Wolfe drily. "You've moved up on the Christmas list, Command."
    "Uh... This is Delta Unit," said Henri Brown. "Testing... One-one, one-two, two-one. Delta clear. How do you receive, Command?"
    "Loud and clear, Delta. Any trouble at the University?"
    "Sort of, Command... It seems that there are remote microcams on all the exits, but we can't trace them..."
    "Why not, Delta?"
    "Wireless. Some sort of infrared station. As a guess, I think it's to make sure that we don't evacuate. Orders?"
    "Yes. Don't evacuate!" Simon barked. "Bravo, is there a similar layout at your end?"
    "I sent one of the guys to check, Command," Rafe replied. "But I do see what looks like a receiver here, and it has what looks like an infra-red input."
    "Gamma here, Command," broke in Megan. "I copy Delta and Bravo's nine, we have an infrared receiver on the package."
    "X-Ray here, Command. Uh, the assisting disposal-tech here says we're up the same creek all around."
    Taggart looked up from the device he was going over, "We've got the same rig here, Captain," he pronounced like it was a death sentence. "Looks like normal in and out won't trip it - or we'd already have blown sky high. I'm guessing so people can go about their business totally unaware of the danger. But a long term interruption..."
    "Such as would be caused by a lot of people trying to get out at once," Simon sighed bitterly. God DAMN! That son of a bitch really dotted all his I's and crossed all his T's with this setup.

    "That's right," said Bobo. "But you see, death is not a PRACTICAL cure... Sure, you're not suffering anymore, we admit, but you're also not doing anything all that constructive - unless you count fertilizing the soil, but we digress..."
    "So, how do cut out the cancer of society?" asked Haas, ashen with fear.
    "We're glad you asked. We've touched on several points up til now, but the bottom line is what we like to call 'Understanding the Averages.' Let us explain, approximately five per-cent of any given social setting contains what is romantically dubbed 'the criminal element'. Sometimes that amount is higher, sometimes lower, but for the sake of brevity we'll accept it as a static five, yes?"
    "S-sure, but what's your point?"
    Bobo sighed. "Okay, we can see that not everyone is a mathematician. Fine, we'll try history. How badly was General Custer outnumbered?"
    "I don't know," admitted Haas.
    "Accounts vary, of course, but the median consensus is he was outnumbered around ten to one, BUT he had superior technology in the form of .45 caliber carbines, revolvers, and good steel bayonets. So that skews the odds a little, see? So, for the sake of this lesson, let's say it levels off at a seven-to-one ratio, hmm?"
    "Uh huh."
    "So we have a guy that possessed the best technology of his time, against a bunch of people with - let's be honest - rocks and sticks. And YET, who won the day? Who rode off the battlefield under their own steam? Do you know?"
    "The Indians, of course," said Haas. "But -"
    "NO. The Natives. Now, let's consider these Natives for a moment, shall we? A group of tribes that until their encroachment pretty much went about their business, and occasionally fought each other... Some of these tribes were BITTER enemies, and yet in the face of a common foe this diverse group of individuals banded together and stomped Custer's dick in the DIRT. What, then, does that teach us?"
    "Uh."
    "Christ on a CRUTCH, Haas! It shows that unification against a common enemy yields VICTORY - ESPECIALLY with superior numbers. So, figuring Custer was outnumbered between seven and ten to one - depending on modifiers for superior technology, what then, would be the logical result if the odds were, say, NINETEEN to one?"
    "Victory...," said Al Smith, awestruck.
    "Exactly!" said Bobo with a wry smile. "Victory."
    "Now wait just a second," said Haas. "What are you saying here?"
    Bobo sighed. "Okay, for the slower class, does it make sense for a mouse to be afraid of a cat?"
    "Sure."
    "Why?"
    "Because the cat is bigger, and it can eat the mouse..."
    "Good! The cat is bigger. Good. Now, does it make sense for a cat to fear, say, an elephant?"
    "I suppose so."
    "Why?"
    "The same reason. The elephant is bigger than the cat, and could smash it flat..."
    "Good! The elephant is bigger. Good. So, knowing these two logical things, does it make sense for an elephant to fear a MOUSE?"
    "I guess not. But the elephant DOES fear the mouse, all the same," replied Haas smugly.
    "Yes. And WHY?"
    "I... I don't know..."
    "Neither does the elephant," said Bobo. "But would the elephant, if given the solid logical argument you've just had, STILL fear it?"
    "Uh, no?"
    "Wrong!" said Bobo. "The elephant is an ANIMAL. As such it cannot REASON; only PEOPLE can do that. You DOPE! The elephant will NEVER understand how silly it is to fear a mouse, because it has no CONCEPT of what is and is not silly. It simply, instinctually, fears... Given this, what could be considered a modern parallel to this illogical paradigm?"
    "Ooo! I know!" said Jeff enthusiastically. "Society fearing the criminal element! Right?" Haas shot his cameraman a dirty look.
    "Very good!" praised Bobo. "Now, does anyone know WHY society fears the criminal element?"
    "Uh, no," admitted Jeff. "They just do..."
    "We'll tell you, then. Society is fractious. It is NOT united. As far as any member of society is concerned, they are the mouse, and the criminal element is the cat. People, believing - thanks in part to the efforts of the media - that they are alone amidst a vast array of enemies are not very likely to unite against ANYTHING. This is the crux of the dilemma, my friends. Ask yourselves, how much farther back can you be pushed? How long before you accept the fact that those who do evil to you are only in control because you LET them be? How long before you realize that a life of constant fear is NOT better than death? How long? We say that it has been TOO long, and must be stopped. Evil can only triumph when good people do NOTHING... We will show the way..."
    "What makes YOU qualified to do so?" demanded Haas. "What gives you the power?"
    "GOD," replied Bobo. "GOD - or whatever cosmic creature or random event you accept as Creator - has given unto us the same measure of power that he has given to ALL. We are ALL the same. The same cells... The same brain... The same EVERYTHING. There is no human being that did not start out the same fertilized egg as any OTHER human being. You have no limitation besides the ones you set for yourself. You have no MASTER save the one you CHOOSE."
    "What... Masters... Do you mean?" asked Al Smith. "I mean, sure, black folks was slaves and all, but -I- ain't never had no master..."
    "Heh. No Masters? It is to laugh. As any human being of today, your masters are three. FEAR... PRIDE... HATE... These are the agents of DIVISION. These prevent the world from realizing it's potential. But no longer... Now shall we show you the way to break the shackles and become FREE."
    "What the-? Why are we stopping here?" asked Haas nervously.
    "Yo, this is... King Daycare...," said Al. "Why are we here...?"
    Two cars drove up from different directions, and Sandburg and Ellison each got out. They began to run to each other, but the Apostles stood between with pistols drawn, preventing them.
    "We are here to see the Shaman, for his blessing... We are here to see the Wolf break his chains... And MOST importantly..."
    "Look!" shouted Sandburg, pointing to the distance. Jeff swung the camera to see, and the whole world saw as well...
    "...We came to see the elephant... Heh."
    Forty five thousand men and women strode grimly down the street, fully prepared to meet the invaders head on.
    "An army of lost souls...," breathed Jim, thunderstruck. "Gather in it's name... Oh, Jesus... No..."