"We have word that authorities are on the scene, but as yet these terrorist have not attempted nor have they accepted communications with police. Their shadowy leader has said in the past that the Revolution wants the attention of the nation. Well, now they have it."

The sounds of sirens and helicopters filled the air as FBI Agent Aaron Miles stepped out of his government sedan and slid on his shades. He looked around the scene trying to get a feel on the chaos around him. Police had set up barricades around the Gallery and were attempting to evacuate people from nearby buildings. Agent Miles could see the scared looks on the faces of the people scurrying away from their jobs seeking safety. The cops were herding these people, but the cops themselves didn't know if anywhere was safe. No one knew anything about the Revolution, but through all of that, Agent Miles was calm. He had to be.

Miles was the first Fed to respond, but more would be on the way soon. He could have helped the police select a space for the command center, but he wanted to know something more important. He wanted to know what was inside. He went to the second floor of the still operating hospital. Even though it was across the street from a locked down building, it was functioning because it would take hours to remove all the sick patients from their rooms. Until all the patients were removed, the staff stayed.

"Are these the ones from inside?", Miles asked a police sergeant who was standing outside the room of the men who had fled the Gallery.

The group of men were all in one room. They had vacant and ghostly looks on their dirty drawn faces like men who had just come from combat. Their clothes were in the process of being removed, but several of the guards still wore their blue uniform shirts. Aaron Miles tried to clear his mind. He knew that he had a problem with prejudging and drawing conclusions too early, but he couldn't help but get a bad taste in his mouth as he looked at these men. Aaron Miles wasn't perfect, but he had never run from a fight in his life. He faced his challenges head on. He forced his mind clear, judgment could wait.

"I'm Aaron Miles with the FBI. I need to know what happened inside that Gallery. Now start from the beginning and don't leave out anything." Miles listened to the story from each man. What he heard was shocking and fascinating. "They lifted the security doors?", Miles asked. "How much do the doors weigh?" His interest was piqued now. This was no normal hostage situation.

"Over a ton", the head of the Gallery answered. "I was there myself when they brought in the forklifts to hoist them into place inside the specially constructed walls.

Agent Miles kept his face neutral, but his mind raced. He had been searching for the source of all the strange feats of strength that he had seen in Atlanta over the last few months. The other agents thought that he had been crazy, but here were others who could testify that they had seen two men lift a one ton door without the aid of a machine. To Agent Miles this was better than finding gold. He also heard the voice of his boss in his head. Miles had been harassing Jan Caufield, because he had thought that she had something to do with all of the strange happenings, but maybe his boss was right. He probably owed that girl an apology.

"Did they say why they let you people leave?", Miles asked.

The head of the Gallery shook his head.

"Did you attempt to take any of the patrons with you?" This question was more important to Miles personally than it was to the situation.

The head of the Gallery looked at the men sitting near him and hung his head before shaking it once again.

Miles wrote in his notebook before he asked, "Why didn't you at least try? Those people had a certain level of faith in you and your people. Plus you had a certain amount of responsibility to them."

The security guards hung their heads even lower. Only the head of the Gallery was able to look Agent Miles in the eye. "People aren't as brave as they would like to believe they are."

"I hope you're wrong", Agent miles began. "If the stuff you said is true, then its gonna take some pretty brave people to save those hostages you abandoned." He sighed. "Ok, that's all for now." Agent Miles walked to the hall and closed the door behind himself. He looked at the uniformed Atlanta Police officer standing next to the door. "If anyone in that room has to leave for any reason, I want to know. I don't care if its to take a piss, or if one of them goes into cardiac arrest. I want to know. You got it."

The cop nodded. "Every word."

Agent Miles left the hospital and walked towards the mobile command center that was already up and running. He put his FBI jacket on and put his badge and credentials out to make coming and going easier. Police officers were keeping almost everyone away from the area. Miles sprung up the stairs and found Special Agent Wills with his ear to a phone. He motioned for Agent Miles to come close. "What you got?", Wills asked after covering the receiver with his hand.

He gave Wills a sum up of what the men in the hospital had told him. He watched Agent Wills' face go from serious but calm to worried. Agent Miles frowned. He knew it took a lot to get that crusty old bastard worried.

"Are you sure they said the terrorist guys were able to lift a ton with their bare hands?"

"Its not the sort of thing you get wrong, sir, and its not the sort of thing you forget."

Agent Wills nodded, but his eyes still looked far away. Then they widened. He snatched up the phone and dialed a number quickly. He knew that he should have cleared the room for what he was about to say, but men's lives were at stake and there was no time. Agent Wills was the only person in the command center who knew that the Hostage Rescue team from Quantico was about to storm the Hynes Convention Center in Boston. "Give me SAC Byrnes in Boston!", Agent Wills yelled to the communications guy sitting only three feet from him.

"Byrnes abort abort abort! I repeat! Abort! Do not enter the convention center, the hostels are Class S. I repeat again hostels are Class S!"

"I copy that! Abort!", Agent Byrnes shouted into the phone and motioned for the commanders to stop the raid. A block away, Jiya Travi had been looking at the men getting prepared to go and save her husband then she saw them stop. She hung her head and cried, as her hopes were dashed.

Agent Miles looked around the room at the faces of the people. None of them knew what had just happened, but from the look on the face of the normally unflappable Agent Wills, they knew it was bad. He slowly put the receiver back in the cradle and looked at his communications guy. "Good job", he said and patted the young man on the back. He sighed. "Get me, General Parker, down at Benning." Then he looked at Agent Miles. "Good job, Miles. You just saved a lot of men their lives."

"What's going on here?"

Agent Wills shook his head. "I don't know yet, but MacCallum needs to be here. I need you to go talk to the families. They're gathering a block from here. That's as close as the cops'll let em. I need you to talk to them before the media gets there. Can you do that?"

"I'm on it now." Miles stepped out of the command center and slid on his shades. It didn't take him long to find the families. They were the frantic looking people trying to get closer while everyone else in the city was trying to get as far away as they could. Miles understood though. They just wanted some communication, some word from their loved ones. The not knowing was the worst.

Inside the Gallery, the men of the Revolution were making sure that there would be no contact with the outside world.

"All cell phones, pagers, pda's, and the like go in the bag. Make sure they're off.", one of the terrorists ordered all the people in Room 1. Alisha reached into the small pocket of her skirt, held out her phone and placed into a big trash bag being carried by another terrorist.

"Anyone caught with a communication device after this bag is closed, will be killed." He looked directly at the group of children huddled around their teacher. He walked up to Alisha and looked into her eyes. "If any of these kids has a phone, I'll kill you."

Alisha was on her haunches close to her students. She looked up at the this terrorist's masked face. "Only one of my kids has a phone, and you already took it."

"I hope you're telling the truth."

"Do you?"

He laughed and took Alisha by the chin. "Of course I hope you're telling the truth. Why would I want to kill you? I'm willing to do that, but that's not what I want. I'm not a monster."

"Then let these kids go. If its a ransom you want then let them go. I'll get you some money. They won't."

He looked at Alisha again, like he was looking at her for the first time. "If I want ransom, I'll use these paintings all around me."

"Then just let them go."

He tisked. "Can't do that. No one else leaves just yet." He moved on to another group of people to make sure they gave up their phones and to make sure they looked sufficiently scared.

This terrorist wouldn't have believed that there was a person in the Gallery who didn't need a phone to speak to whomever she wished. Sara had already turned over her pink Nokia to the terrorist with the bag in her room, but she had opened her mind. She could feel Alisha and Jan. She decided to talk to them at the same time.

"Is everybody all right?", Sara asked with thoughts directly into their minds.

"No injuries if that's what you mean", Alisha replied.

"That's all we can hope for right now", Sara pointed out. "So, what's the situation where yall are?"

"I have four armed men in Room 1, but only 3 of them are permanent", Alisha began. She moved her brown eyes, but didn't turn her head at all as she observed the men. "They aren't pros. They don't move quite right, but they aren't untrained either. More like undisciplined. They are heavily loaded with small arms and judging by the way they talk, they mean business. What about you Jan?"

"I have three up here, but one of them comes and goes. They're armed and have to be Class S. Probably Level 2, but certainly not strong enough to be Level 3's."

"You're a Level 3", Alisha thought quickly.

Jan sighed aloud. "No, I'm normally a Level 3. Right now, I'm just a liability."

Sara had to calm herself. "Jan you are not a liability, but you are going to have to think about a way to use what you do have in case this situation turns ugly. You won't be able to just out muscle these guys. We understand that, but its not like you're normal either."

"I know", Jan whined internally. "But it would be so much better if I could just kill this guy walking in front of me right now. I'd break his neck, take his gun, shoot the guy across the room from me, then run out to the hall and shoot the other guy right in the balls. Case closed."

"Have you gotten that out of your system?", Sara asked. "Now come up with something you can do."

"I will", Jan said although she had no ideas at the moment.

"Have you checked outside yet?", Alisha asked Sara.

"Yeah, the cops are out there, but nobody I know. I thought about trying to find Agent MacCallum or Agent Wills, but I need to keep my grip on the situation in this room. I can't get too detached. I'm pretty sure the FBI will be here sooner or later. I'll check again in a little while. They agreed to simply observe and gather information before making any moves. That way they could have something to report when the Feds did show up. Jan got busy watching and cataloguing everything about the terrorists in her room, too busy to notice how intently Tyisha was studying one in particular.

Jack Caufield was on his way to his daughter's apartment. He knew it was only a week to Jan's birthday when Carol and Thomas would come down to celebrate, but he wanted to see her one more time before he flew back to Baltimore. In the Caufield family the 20th birthday was pretty important. He dialed her phone, but it went straight to voice mail. He sighed and kept driving, although he couldn't remember a time when Jan had her phone off. She kept it on even when she took exams, albeit with the ringer off. He called Sara and Alisha, but got the same result. Jack tossed his phone on the passenger seat, but picked it up after another thought. He dialed Sara's cousin. "Avery, this is Jack. How you doing?"

"Good."

"Sorry to bother you, but have you seen Jan? I called her phone. Got her voice mail, same with Sara and Alisha."

"Well Melissa and I are back in New Orleans tryin to get our loft in order so we can move back, but if I remember right, they're all at an art gallery downtown with Alisha's class from the community center."

"Ok thanks a lot." Jack hung up and kept driving. He turned up the radio and listened to some classic rock when the news broke into the middle of Magic Bus by The Who. The reporter breathlessly explained the hostage situation at an art gallery downtown. Jack changed direction and rushed to midtown as quickly as the four cylinder engine could take him.

Alisha hugged a few of her students close to her as the terrorists walked around pointing their guns at the ground and lecturing the patrons about the evils of the country and how they contributed to them. Everyone in the room was getting an ear full of the Cause. The Revolution men would back each other on points, but Alisha could tell that they all had this crap memorized. The terrorist who was doing most of the talking stopped walking when he got close to a painting. He looked up at Café-Concert by Manet. "Look at this shit", the Revolution man called out to his buddy. "They call this art? Its a room full of rich people. So what?" The two men laughed. The first one raised the butt of his rifle.

"Why would you destroy that painting?" Alisha spoke with calm authority, but her students were suddenly afraid. Even they knew that the best thing to do in this situation was to disappear

He turned, surprised that someone had talked during his demonstration. "This bourgeois crap! Propaganda like this keeps the normal man down. Puts us serfs in our place."

"You put yourself in your place by wanting to destroy that painting. Its absolutely harmless. You and your Cause consider yourselves enlightened and the rest of us in the dark, but we all know that fools destroy while the enlightened create." Alisha paused and tilted her head. "What have you created?"

The man rushed away from the painting and up to Alisha with his arm cocked back. Alisha didn't flinch. "We're going to create a new world order where the men who control the world and control what is considered beautiful will be thrown down! They tell us what we should look like, what our women should look like, and what we should think. No more! The end of that starts here today!"

"And after you and your fellow terrorists destroy the 500 years of history and beauty inside this building, what are you going to replace it with?"

The man's brow drew together. He hadn't even thought about it. It was as if he had just found out that the Earth was round.

"People can't live on political jargon alone. The Russians tried that, and look where it got them."

The terrorist was still before he shook his head. "You're filling my head with your elitist bourgeois shit."

Alisha rolled her eyes. "Can you even spell bourgeois? I'm not calling you stupid, but I am saying that you have to open your mind and think for yourself for a minute. If you don't, then who's the sheep?"

The slap across Alisha's cheek was sharp and hard. "I'm no sheep!", he screamed. Alisha's hand went to her cheek, but she blinked back the tears. "Say I'm a sheep again! A fucking sheep to lay down and be dominated! I dare you!"

Alisha dropped her hand and stared at this terrorist. She pointed her finger at him and inhaled to speak. "No, please Miss E, don't", Marquez whispered. "He ain't worth it."

"What did you say!" The terrorist pointed his gun and Marquez jumped back. Alisha put her body between the barrel and her student. This was getting bad quickly.

"Put that gun away", a fourth terrorist said as he walked into the room with his rifle slung over his shoulder. He was the one she had spoken to earlier. He was the leader. His underling did as he was told. The leader looked at Alisha then up at his man. "She was tying your mind in knots." He chuckled. "You don't need to talk to this one again. Tell you what, you start taking the paintings down from the wall, and be careful."

He came over to Alisha and took her face gently in his hand. "Do you want some ice or something for your jaw? I wouldn't want to see a pretty face like that swell up."

"Aren't you just a fucking gentleman", Alisha said through clenched teeth. She was having a hard time controlling her temper.

He went to a deli stand near the front door and came back with a bag of ice wrapped a towel. "I heard what you said about beauty and creation. You're a very intelligent young lady, clearly a member of the aristocracy and not bourgeois at all", the terrorist team leader said as he pulled up a chair opposite where Alisha was sitting on the floor. "My colleague is not a lover of the arts which is why he and the rest were chosen for this mission. I, on the other hand, do appreciate the concentration and skill necessary to create the works here in this Gallery."

"Then why are you going to destroy them?"

The leader sighed. "To make a point I'm afraid. Times like these call for drastic measures. Don't lose heart though, Miss... What's your name, may I ask?"

"I'd rather you didn't."

The man chuckled again. He had a patient and even soothing laugh. "Under different circumstances, had we been born in the same social strata, we might have known each other in a setting like this, and perhaps argued whether Goya was the end of traditionalism or the beginning of modernism, or both." He smiled beneath his mask. "I can see the answer forming in your mind, but alas we won't have that chance." He stood up and slid the chair away all while looking at Alisha. "Art in this building is going to be destroyed. How much I can't say, but seeing as how you earned it, I will let you choose which painting I burn for the cameras."

Alisha gasped and shrank back. "What?"

"Yes, a painting must be destroyed or people will not pay attention. You see we have already killed several people here today, but in the world we live in, our lives are transitory. People have attached a certain permanence to these paintings. I will give you a chance to make up your mind. Just so you know, I had already narrowed it in my mind to either The Repentant Peter, or --"

"You wouldn't!"

The leader smiled again beneath his mask. "I'll give you about ten minutes." He turned and left the room.

Alisha's eyes darted around the room, and her students tried to comfort her, but she looked crushed. It would get worse before it got any better. The leader came in and stopped in front of Alisha.

"Have you made up your mind?"

"I can't. Don't do it, please don't.", Alisha pleaded with him.

The man sighed and walked out the door. "Get the cameras ready and give me a phone", the leader ordered.

Alisha began to sob as the smell of gasoline wafted their way. "Its okay, Miss E", her students tried to comfort her. "There's nothing you can do."

But there was. Of all the people in the room, she had the power to save that painting, but she couldn't risk harm to any of these children to go save a painting, not even one by El Greco, so she sat there. She had to let it happen, and it was tearing her up inside.

"Alisha's really upset", Sara explained to Jan. "They're going to destroy a painting to prove a political point."

"I know. I heard them talking. They're taking paintings down from up here too. They've already taken three or four off the wall."

"I feel bad for her. I wish there was something I could do."

"We can't risk the kids, but its been a while since this started. See if you recognize anybody outside."

"I'm going to check on Alisha one more time. Then I'll check outside."

"Ok." Jan went back to observing the terrorists.

Special Agent in Charge MacCallum had come and cleared the command center of people who didn't have the right clearances for what was going to happen. Special Agent Wills stood next to his boss and friend. "Tell me this isn't happening."

SAC MacCallum smiled and downed the last of his coffee. "I would Harry, but I'd be lyin. Have you heard from Parker?"

"His boys from Benning are moving now. They should be here within the hour."

"Good", MacCallum nodded. "What about the Special Program guys?"

"Any minute now."

MacCallum filled his mug with more coffee. "We have to know what's going on in there. Did you try to get in touch with Sara Hewitt. I know she doesn't work for Special Programs anymore, but by God we could use her skills about now."

"I called her phone, but got no answer. She could be with some boy for all we know."

The two men looked at each other and shared a much needed laugh. "Not the Sara I know."

Agent Miles was outside the command center working his cell phone trying to chase down any lead he could. He was a little sore at being ordered out of there. He had saved the men in Boston and probably in the other cities too. That should have put him at least a little in the loop, but no. He was outside looking in, trying to make the best of it. It had been a couple of hours since he'd first responded and people were starting to get restless. He looked off to his left where the group of distraught family members was growing. He looked at one gentleman emerge from the crowd, a big guy with coal black hair and piercing blue eyes. He had only seen one other person with eyes quite like those. The big guy worked his way politely through the crowd talking to some people, but eventually getting to a policeman. This big guy spoke to the cop for half a minute before the cop let him cross under the incident tape. The guy, a civilian, continued past the barricades. He made a bee line towards the command center. Miles started at an angle to intercept him.

The man stopped with a surprised look on his face when Miles caught up to him and put a hand to his chest. Agent Miles was nearly 6'3" so he was only a little shorter than this man, but probably 40 pounds lighter. He wasn't nervous at all though.

"Excuse me sir, you're not allowed here. I don't know how you got past the police, but I'm going to have to stop you here and ask you to go back." Miles heard the door open behind him. He guessed that personnel from the command center were coming to back him up. He was wrong.

"Miles, let Mr. Caufield through", Special Agent MacCallum ordered.

"Aaron Miles?", Jack asked with a quizzical look.

"The one and only", MacCallum answered quickly. "Come on in, Jack." The two men shook hands. "Good to see you, we might need your help, but why are you here?"

"Jan's in there", Jack replied.

"That's good news", MacCallum exclaimed just as he walked through the door.

Agent Miles' eyes could have popped from his head. He was already angry, but now he didn't know what to think. Who the fuck are these Caufield's?

"Look who I found outside?", MacCallum asked his friend. "And he's the bearer of good news."

Agent Wills turned and smiled. "Good to see you Jack. You gonna lead the assault on this place?"

Jack grinned and accepted a cup of coffee. He looked like he needed one. "Won't have to. Jan's in that damn building. So's Sara and Alisha as far as I know."

Agent Wills looked at his boss and the two smiled. "Best news I've heard in hours. Now all we have to do is get in touch with them."

Just then the door opened and two men walked in. One of the men looked as sharp as a tack, on top of everything. The other man looked like he had been snatched from a donut shop just after the 'hot now' sign had come on. Agent Wills silently hoped that the Special Projects guy was the former and not the latter.

They both came up to him. "Gentlemen", the sharp one began. "I'm Al, and this is Lonnie from Special Projects."

The donut guy extended his hand. Agent Wills sighed and shook the man's hand. "Well, Lonnie have you scanned the terrorists in the building?", Agent Wills asked to test this telepath.

"Yes, sir. They're serious and completely sure of their mission. They're also very confident, or cocky more like it. If I give it another thorough scan I can most certainly tell you more." Lonnie stopped and nervously opened his mouth then shut it.

"You wanted to add something?", Agent Wills prodded.

"Its just that when I was doing my prelim scan of the building, I felt a presence in there. A very powerful mind's in that building."

Agent Wills nodded. "Do you know Sara Hewitt?"

Lonnie shook his head. "No, sir, but I've heard her name. I joined Special Programs only a couple months ago. I think I'm supposed to be her replacement."

'Not hardly', Wills, MacCallum, and Jack thought at the same time, but all men kept their mouths shut.

"Well I need you to contact her", MacCallum told the telepath. The man turned quizzically. "You know, send a thought with your mind and tell her that we're out here."

"Can that be done?"

Agent MacCallum frowned. "Damn it man, I don't know how this shit works, but she can do it. Now you're gonna do it."

Lonnie had no idea that such a thing was even possible, but he would try. He got her name in his head, and tried to think it really really hard.

Inside the Gallery Sara was busy trying to calm Alisha. "Look, Alisha, don't worry. I'm gonna try to see who's outside. Maybe there're ready to come in." Sara left Alisha's mind and opened hers and started to probe the outside. She was about fifteen minutes late. Her probing didn't get far. "Ouch", Sara said aloud. Heads in the room turned towards her, including a couple of the terrorists. "My foot fell asleep", she lied and shifted her position on the floor. It seemed to satisfy everyone. Her eyes took on a faraway look as she opened her mind again.

"STOP YELLING!", Sara sent to Lonnie with enough strength to break through his own thoughts and make him stumble back inside the command center.

"Sorry. I've never done anything like that before", Lonnie thought. He had a big smile on his face.

"I can tell", Sara replied.

The smile fell away.

"I feel Agent Wills and Agent MacCallum", Sara thought.

"You mean you can identify them that quickly?"

"Yeah, and I feel Mr. Caufield too. What's your name?"

"I'm Lonnie, Miss Hewitt." He knew that he was older than Sara, but with power like hers, she needed to be treated with respect.

"Ok, Lonnie, I'm going to break off contact with you and talk to Agent Wills. Don't try and hail me again. Next time I'll call you."

Lonnie didn't have time to reply before he felt Sara leave his head.

"I can't believe you did that to me", Sara told Agent Wills.

"What? You mean Lonnie? Sorry, he's the best we could come up with on short notice."

"It was like he was screaming in my ear from an inch away."

Agent Wills laughed. It was an eerie thing because nobody was saying anything to him that could be heard. "He stumbled like you smacked him."

"I did, telepathically speaking. So are you outside with the cavalry?"

"Not yet. We have about an hour until they arrive, but these damn terrorists haven't even requested any contact with us. How's the situation on the inside? Are all of you okay?"

"We're ok, but they are ramping things up. They've started to take art down from the wall and they are going to destroy one soon. I think you'll be hearing from them soon.

The Revolution men inside the Gallery set up the camera and lighting before placing the painting against the wall in a side hall of the building. The leader placed a call to the media. They did what he knew what they were going to do. They picked up his transmission, and some of them carried the burning live while the leader spoke over the flames explaining that this was just the opening salvo. He listed the demands.  These were the same as the demands from the other three attacks around the country. He promised that there would be more death and more destruction if the demands of the Revolution weren't met.

Inside room 1, Alisha's head was in her hands as she cried. Tears fell to the floor, not just for a painting that had survived 400 years of war and strife, but for the other art in this building. The loss of all of these works would leave a gaping hole that could never be refilled. She cried more as she smelled the smoke from centuries old wood and canvas turning into ashes. The entire episode took less than ten minutes. Alisha couldn't look up when she heard footfalls near her. Then she heard something bang down next to her. Alisha slowly opened her eyes, but it was hard to focus through her tears. She saw the yellow first and then the black of the canvas behind the lone figure. She opened her eyes fully and saw El Greco's the Repentant Peter sitting on the floor only a foot from her. She reached out and touched the frame to make sure it was real.

"I didn't burn it as you see. I had thought to make more of a statement by burning this one, but I burned a Thomas Gainsborough instead, some portrait of a nobleman and his family", the leader said quietly.

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me", the leader snapped. He motioned for his men to place the painting with the others then he walked off.

"What did he just burn!", Agent Wills demanded. "What painting did he just burn?!?"

"Not the one he wanted to burn", Lonnie said slowly. "He changed his mind to burn that painting."

"What made him change his mind?"

Lonnie squeezed his eyes shut and pushed his gift to the limit. "A pretty face", Lonnie replied. "Some dark hair, dark eyed beauty. It seems that this terrorist leader has a thing for one of the hostages in there." Lonnie didn't know that the leader wasn't the only terrorists attracted to a hostage, although the two men would show their lust in different ways.

The three terrorists guarding the upstairs room took there watches in pairs. Two men watched the hostages while the third disappeared down the hall for a time before taking up one of the guard spots and letting another man go into the hall. It seemed to work pretty well. Jan had been in contact with Agent Wills and with her father. She was helping give information about the terrorists that wasn't just helping there in Atlanta, but in the other cities that had been attacked as well. There were bound to be similarities between the way the terrorists operated since they were all part of the same group.

"What are you looking at?", the patrolling guard near her asked and stopped.

"Nothing", Jan told him, but in truth she had been looking at the serial number on his rifle and trying to make sure she had it memorized for the next time Sara connected with the agents outside.

"Every time I turn around I see those eyes looking back at me." He looked at Jan for a moment. "What do you do for a livin?", he asked.

"I'm a student."

"Oh, yeah, where at?"

Jan pulled on the jacket tied around her waist so he could see the logo. "Emory."

"Good school. Too bad they don't teach the truth. I would have thought you were a personal trainer or something. Got a nice build on you. Stand up."

Jan gave the kids a quick squeeze to reassure them, but she wished that there was someone there to reassure her. She felt so exposed as this man looked at her even though she was fully clothed. This feeling of vulnerability was new to Jan.

"Damn you're a tall one. Yeah I would have sworn that you would be a trainer."

"I teach a woman's self defense class, a couple of them."

His eyebrow arched. "Really? So you teach women how to stop a man who's trying to attack and rape them and stuff."

"Basically."

"That shit don't work. For a rapists its just foreplay. Chicks ain't strong enough to stop a guy who don't want to be stopped." The other terrorist chuckled causing Tyisha's eyes to narrow and her brain to keep working.

"It's worked a couple of times. I've had a couple of students protect themselves against men who meant them harm." Jan's voice was shaky. She frowned at the sound. She'd never heard herself sound like that before.

This terrorist nodded. "So could you defend yourself against me if I was trying to attack you, miss self defense feminist teacher?"

"Probably", was Jan's quick reply.

"Well, aren't we sure of ourselves? I guess you were looking the other way when we lifted that door, but okay." He set his rifle against a podium and went back to Jan who stood with her hands at her side. "Step out here." Jan did as he said, but not enthusiastically. She followed the terrorist between two sculptures one made of wood and the other of wrought iron. "Here I come", the man yelled jokingly as he lunged towards Jan.

People gasped audibly when she simply slapped his hands away. Jan stood straight up with her hands still her sides, but that was mostly because her hands were shaking, and her knees were even a little shaky. Jan wasn't quite sure what she was afraid of, but she didn't have time to figure it out.

"That's all you got?", the terrorist laughed.

"What do you want from me?", Jan asked.

"I want you to show me how you train your classes, and I'm gonna show you how stupid it is."

Jan's mind was working. She knew full well that she couldn't fight this guy, not for very long anyway. Her eyes focused on the pistol on his hip. She looked up at his masked face. "You have to attack. Its a self defense class. You have to give me something to defend", she goaded.

The terrorists nodded. "Okay, here I come!", he yelled as he lunged again. This time he threw a halfway serious punch. Jan smoothly sidestepped and caught his arm, wrapped her fingers around it, and flipped him with a small motion.

"Ooohhh!" The guard across the room jumped up and pointed as his comrade.

Jan's terrorist shook his head and got up. Jan found her body and instincts taking over although there was still more fear inside her than should have been. He got to his feet and rushed in. He stopped short and threw a hard punch at Jan's head. As quick as the punch came, Jan's reflexes were just a little quicker. She ducked his right and a left. Both sailed over her head. He tried to step back to give himself room to hit her, but Jan stepped into him and took him by the combat vest he was wearing. With a shift of weight from her hips, she sent him crashing to the floor once again. She jumped back as he kicked and hit the floor. A tiny smile turned up the corners of Jan's pretty lips.

"This is bullshit!", the terrorist yelled as he got to his feet. He stalked towards her with his chin low and his eyes blazing. "No more playin. You gonna get hurt now." All traces of humor left his voice.

Jan's adrenaline kicked in fully. She flicked her hair out of her face. She wished she had time to tie it up to keep it out of her way, but she didn't. The terrorist squinted his eyes and charged at her. He ran towards her like a charging bull. Jan backed up, but there wasn't really anywhere to go. She waited for him to get close, and at the last moment, she went down low, tucking herself into a tight ball. He tripped over her body and fell forward onto his face.

"Give it up, man!", the other terrorist yelled from across the room. "She's making you look stupid."

He barely heard his comrade. He stood up in a rage. He stood between the two sculptures. He roared as he threw his arms out knocking the two pieces of art to the floor. The wooden one hit the granite floor and cracked while the spherical wrought iron one rolled to the back wall. He came at Jan who didn't back up. He flexed and stretched his super powered muscles, something Jan knew more about than he did, but he now planned on using this strength of his. He had been trying to hold back a little bit. He kept coming forward. He didn't run, and he didn't rush. He just walked, and Jan backed up until she came near the wall. She could feel the coolness of the granite behind her. Goose bumps rose on the skin of her arms and back as this man came towards her. Jan knew that while she could fight him, she wondered if she could really hurt him. "I'm gonna have some fun with you before I kill you and drop your body on the street for trash men to collect."

Jan didn't respond. Her eyes looked left and right for an advantage. It dawned on Jan that this man was plenty strong enough to kill her. While he couldn't break her bones more than likely, he could and probably would assault her, and he could do all sorts of damage to her soft tissue and organs, and even she couldn't live without a heart or lungs. He saw the fear in her eyes for the first time. He didn't know, but he was one of the few people to ever see fear in those dauntless azure eyes. He fed on it. He was finally close enough for them to feel the heat of each other's body. He brought up his arms and made a move to grab Jan by the shoulders. His arms were up, blocking any power punch Jan could throw. He was too close for her to throw a good kick, and yet too far for her to knee him anywhere. She would have normally grappled with him, but she couldn't. Jan knew more about having super strength than this goon ever would. She knew that super strength was most effective when the strong person maintained contact or control of an opponent. That's why when she had been throwing him all around, she had broken off contact very quickly. The last thing Jan wanted was for this man to get his hands on her. Once he got a good hold of her, it would all be over.

"That's right. Be afraid. You shouldn't have made me look bad", he hissed. When he was close, he decided to lunge the last couple of feet. It was a mistake.

Jan saw the move just before he did it. She did the only thing she could. She sunk down a couple of feet coiling her long body and curled her right hand into a fist. At the right moment, Jan launched her body up, leading with her rock solid fist. All the fear and frustration became fuel to Jan's strength. Her uppercut caught the terrorist under the chin. Jan's follow through made her look like supergirl trying to fly. The terrorist stumbled back. The punch had hurt, but it wasn't enough. Jan stepped back set her feet and exploded with power through her legs and hips. Jan's kicks were merciless as this terrorist found out. Her shin hit the side of his head like a grenade had exploded against it. And before he could completely stagger from that kick, Jan had spun round 180⁰ and roundhouse kicked him. His body flew back. He fell, knocking over sculptures and making hostages have to move to keep from behind hit. Jan didn't wait. She attacked.

She jumped high in the air with both her feet together. Jan had a high vertical leap. She pulled her knees into her body while she was in the air and brought both soles of her cross trainers down on the side of this terrorist's head. People were nervously hopeful as this young woman did what all of them wished that they could be doing. Jan kicked and kicked and kicked until it seemed like her legs were a blur, but she never tired. She was too angry and too scared to stop.

The other terrorist was about to step in, when his comrade caught Jan's foot on the return from one of her kicks. He twisted her ankle hard enough to make her cry out before he pushed her over. Jan scrambled to his knees, and stayed on all fours. His chest heaved as he raised up the bottom of his mask, revealing a stubbled chin and busted lips. He pursed his bleeding lips and spit blood onto the floor before be pulled the mask back down.

Jan tried to scramble back using her hands and feet, but the terrorist reached out and grabbed her ankle. She kicked, but it was no use. Jan moaned as he squeezed her with his fingers. Her skin squeaked across the floor as he yanked her towards him. "Your turn to feel it!" He raised his arm and brought it down with tremendous force. The blow crashed into the side of Jan's face right on the jaw. Her teeth clapped shut hard taking off a piece of her tongue. People cringed at the sound of the impact. Jan saw a blinding white flash as this terrorist and his enhanced muscles hit her again. This punch tore into the side of her head forcing Jan's neck to turn past her shoulder.

The part of Jan's brain that wasn't seeing stars took notice of just how important her strength was. Without it, her body was more vulnerable than she had realized. She could feel the hot burning in the side of her neck as her tendons were stretch to near breaking by this punch and some of the fine muscles there tore from the twist. Only her super human bones kept her neck from breaking completely. He raised up then and punched Jan in the ribs. She moaned and whimpered in pain. It hurt so bad that she couldn't even bring her legs in to protect herself. It wasn't the hardest blow she had ever felt, but without the strength, her muscles weren't able to absorb the shock. His fist broke through all of her defenses. Tears of pain came to her eyes as she tried her best to roll away from the punishment.

The terrorist pushed her back to the floor, and climbed atop her. She could smell him, but it hurt too bad for her to open her eyes. He pulled his hand and backhanded her hard enough to make a stream of blood fly from her mouth. She turned her head as he leaned down and inhaled loudly near her ear. "You're gonna be the best one I've ever had." The immediate fear and dread showed on Jan's face. She put her hands against his chest trying to keep him off of her, but it was no use. Her wonderful muscles bunched up and flexed. Her triceps and pecs flexed to full hardness trying in vain. A fraction of his power was more than enough to overpower her. He felt the resistance against his chest and it made him laugh. He put his hands behind Jan's shoulders and squeezed, slowly applying more and more pressure causing her arms to bend back against her. Jan's muscles flexed and shook from strain. Her skin turned red, but it was not enough. Jan's legs kicked, but she couldn't move them enough, and trying to buck him off was useless although she tried twice. She was being overpowered. Finally he got tired of it all, pulled her arms away from his chest and pressed his body against hers. He tried to reach down Jan's body towards her crotch, but she struggled enough to frustrate him. He raised up and punched her in the chest and in the ribs and in the head.

Jan's mind tried to find solutions. She knew a dozen different ways to gain an advantage from his amateur positioning, but none of them would work. Extreme strength was a technique in itself, and it was hard to beat. It was a technique that Jan herself had used, but now she couldn't. She heard her father's words I her mind. She had to use her advantages, and as she lay there on the ground being pummeled, she realized that she had one advantage at the moment; her arms were longer than his. Jan raised her right arm pointed her index finger and aimed it at the one spot on his body that was vulnerable, his eye.

"Oh fuck!", he yelled at the top of his lungs as Jan's finger poked this terrorist in the eye. He put both hands over his left eye and jumped back yelling the entire time. Jan knew that this might be her last chance. Despite the pain, Jan jumped to her feet. She kicked him in the face, and felt the rage come over her. At first it caught her off guard. It felt so familiar, but it wasn't complete. Her strength didn't come with it. It didn't matter. The rage was enough to make the pain go away. It also started her body to healing more quickly. She stomped and kicked with furious anger as hard as she could. She pulled one of the podiums holding a sculpture down atop this terrorist. It crashed against his head, dazing him more than her punches and kicks did. Then one brave hostage reached into a pouch on the inside of her loose fitting pants and pulled out an asp baton. Jan wouldn't know until later where it had come from. She pushed the button, and began beating this terrorist with the steel rod as hard as she could.

The other terrorist looked for help from the hall, but the third member of the team was still a few minutes from coming back. He thought about using the radio, but he didn't want to seem like he and his partner had screwed up. He started towards the beat down. He had to put a stop to this.

Spit and sweat and blood flew from Jan as her arm whipped down harder and harder against this man. She saw her chance. He was barely protecting himself now. It was time. She went for the gun. She had to roll him over a bit to reach it, but she put her hands around the grip. She unsnapped the nylon strap keeping it in place and began to pull it out.

"NO!", the other terrorist yelled as he stomped closer. He leaned down and put one hand to Jan's chest. He pushed her back as hard as he could using all the momentum he had built up. Jan flew as if shot from a cannon. Her arms and legs were forced forward by the air she flew, she seemed to be accelerating until the moment she hit the rear wall of the room. She hit so hard that the stone behind the impact cracked; the boom was deep enough to be felt in people's chests, and the sound changed the pressure in the room popping people's ears. Everybody in the building not only heard the impact, they felt it. The concrete blocks that made up the exterior of the building bulged out like they had been hit by a Mack truck. Jan's body stayed suspended against the wall for what seemed like a long time before she slid down to the floor leaving a streak of blood the entire way. Her legs were under her and her chin fell to her chest. People cried as they felt their hopes dashed. The group of children were beside themselves.

"What the hell happened in here!", the third terrorist, the one with the machete asked breathlessly as he ran into the room from down the hall.

"Yeah, what was that?", the leader asked.

The second terrorist was kneeling over the one who had been beaten. "I uh. I uh."

The leader walked over to him and looked down. Their comrade was breathing, but a steady stream of blood ran from his eye socket. The leader looked at the one with the machete. "I have to go to the roof. You handle this."

"Yes sir."

The leader walked out, and the machete one looked down. "Did you do this?", he asked the healthy terrorist.

"No. She did." He pointed over his shoulder. He looked to his right and saw Jan slumped against the wall.

"So that's why you threw her like that?" He stood up and pulled out his machete. The light glinted off the blade as he turned it. "I thought I told you people that I would kill five of you if any one of my men were attacked. YOU DIDN'T BELIEVE ME!"

"He started it, man. He kept umm.... He pushed her to fight him, and then she kicked his ass like this. What the fuck? This isn't supposed to happen. She's just normal right? No normal person supposed to be able to do this us. We're supposed to be super right."

The machete one shook his head. "Get ahold of yourself. Yeah, we are. Look at what you did to her. You spread her brains all over the wall with one arm."

Then a moan escaped Jan's lips. "What the hell. She ain't dead." They left the one eyed terrorist and went to Jan. One of them lifted her head, and saw her try to open her eyes.

They shook their heads. "I don't fucking understand that. She should be hamburger meat as hard as you threw her. I'm gonna have to ask the chief what he wants to do", he paused and put down his machete, "but until then..." He pulled the heavy wrought iron sculpture closer. He bent a couple of the thick ribs of the piece and forced Jan's arms through the openings so that her arms were on opposite sides of it. When he put her wrists through two loops the artist had made, this terrorist bore down and used his strength to force the iron closed around her wrists shackling her to this very heavy piece of iron. "I'll hold her here. You take care of him, and make sure he doesn't die. I'm gonna go talk to the chief."

"Can you talk to her?", Alisha asked Sara frantically.

"She's alive", Sara said with a thought, but she's hurt bad.

"I thought we were just going to observe. What the fuck was she thinking?", Alisha demanded angrily.

"I don't know, but she probably had her reasons. I'm going to talk to Agent Wills. I'm sure they heard that."

"What the fuck was that?", Wills asked as soon as he heard Sara in his head.

"It was Jan, but I don't have any details. I do know that you better get your plan moving soon. It might start getting bad in here."

"The guys from Benning are setting up some new equipment right now." Agent Wills took a moment to explain it to Sara. "We want to fight the terrorists in the public spaces. All we need you girls to do is make sure none of them are around the hostages when the shooting starts."

"Okay, Sara replied quickly. How long until you're in place?"

Agent Wills checked with MacCallum, his boss. "Less than five minutes."

"Wait for my call. Just please go when we're ready."

Sara was out Agent MacCallum's head. The Special Agent turned around. "They know our plan, but Jack I have to tell you about..."

"About Jan, Sara just told me. As long as she's alive the rest doesn't matter to me right now." Everyone could tell that it did. When Jack Caufield had come in, he had been very calm almost light even, but not now. His mood and demeanor was turning darker as the time for the assault drew close. His movements and mannerisms had changed. His gaze had changed and the tone of his voice had changed. Wills, MacCallum and the rest were seeing the other side to Jack Caufield, the side that used to be called the Bear.

Sara pulled her mind back and blinked her eyes as she looked around the room she was in. The loud boom from upstairs had spooked the people in her room. Sara could feel the tension and panic, but there was nothing she could do about it. The entire room was like a keg of black powder, any spark could cause a catastrophe. The spark would come from upstairs.

While Jan's body worked at healing itself, some of the people in the room were at their wits end. When the ordeal had began they had decided to stay as calm as possible and do what the terrorists said. They hoped that would keep them alive, but then this girl had fought back, and had nearly won. Some people and mistakenly allowed hope to creep into their hearts. That hope should have died when the girl lost, but it didn't. Instead it festered. One man couldn't take it anymore. He saw one terrorists with his back to the door. This man was near the door. He didn't have a plan of escaping the building, but he made a run for it.

The noise from the hostages around him gave him away. The terrorist looked up from his wounded comrade. "Don't do it!", he yelled as he brought up his rifle, but the man didn't even hear the warning. He just felt the hot slaps against his back as four bullets twapped against his skin. He fell down oozing blood. "Why'd he run! Huh! Why'd he fucking run!" He pointed the gun at the man's wife in anger.

Downstairs the rifle shots echoed and reverberated down the hall. A man near the door in room 2 lost it. He put his hands down against the cold stone to run for the door, but Sara saw him before the terrorists did. She quickly grabbed him with her power, and forced him down to the ground. He looked strange as he used all his strength to try to get up and run, but an invisible force held him firmly. It was no strain at all for Sara to hold this man as still as a mannequin. He tried to yell in panic and frustration, but Sara kept his mouth shut. She even put pressure on his chest keeping him from drawing a breath. The people around him looked at this man strangely as he struggled against something they couldn't see. A terrorist glanced at the man, but looked away quickly. Sara knew that one more look would let the guy know that something was wrong. This was hard for Sara to do, but she had to try. Even though this man's strength was absolutely nothing compared to her telekinetic power, it was still hard for her to use her telepathic powers at the same time.

She entered this man's jumbled mind and said, "Stop it. If they see you, they'll kill you."

The man tried to speak out loud, but he only managed moans.

"If you want to live then stop trying to run." Sara exited his mind and slowly released the man, although she was ready at a moment's notice to clamp onto him again. The man looked around as he calmed down. He was too confused to be panicked.

Upstairs the situation was more tense. The lone guard had killed a man, and now had the dead man's wife in his sights. He put his finger on the trigger and looked down at her terror stricken face. Rules were rules, and he knew it.

Outside the Gallery, the police had pushed people even further back, and military helicopters had chased away even the bravest of news chopper pilots. All this was the cover the movement on six trucks into place. On the backs of these six trucks sat six devices that looked like search lights. The mixed crews of military personnel and civilians worked to get these devices deployed quickly. They knew that people's lives were on the line. After a few minutes they radioed back that they were ready. It wasn't long before the last of the assault teams radioed that they too were ready. Now all the needed was the word go.

Tyisha Miller was near shock as she looked at a man get shot not 50 feet from her. It wasn't the first time in Tyisha's short life that she had been around shooting, but this time there was no where for her to run or hide. She looked at Jan, her teacher's friend. Jan face looked better than it had only a few moments before. She was moving now, but her arms were still stuck inside that iron ball. Tyisha didn't want to look back towards the door, but she couldn't help herself. She saw the terrorist pointing the gun at a woman. She wasn't sure if it was the way he was standing or the way he screamed, but she knew the answer to the question she'd been asking herself all night.

"Roderik!", Tyisha yelled.

The terrorist's head whipped towards the back so quickly that he nearly lost balance. "What!"

"I knew it was you, but now I'm sure of it! You're Miss Paine's grandson, the one who supposed to go to Grambling."

Roderik forgot all about the woman and rushed to the back of the room. "Shut your mouth!", he screamed angrily. "Shut your fucking mouth. You don't know me!"

"Yes I do!", the little girl squealed as he took her by the arm and lifted her from the ground. "You're just a killer! I know your name, and I'm gonna tell ev'ry body!"

"Shut the fuck up!" He shook the girl so hard it hurt, but she wouldn't back down. Jan hadn't backed down, and she wasn't either.

"Put her down!", some of the kids from the class yelled.

"What's going on here?", the terrorist with the machete asked calmly as he strolled back into the room. "Does this little girl know your name?"

Roderik could only nod his head.

The terrorist pulled his machete. "Then she has to die." He snatched Tyisha from Roderik's hands. "I won't ask you to do it. You and that fool down there on the ground have made a mess of this room. Go and finish up on the roof. I'll kill the girl."

Roderik looked back a couple of times before he went through the door.

Marshon, who had urged Jan to dunk the basketball back at the community center, crawled over to her and shook her. "Wake up! You gotta help!"

Tyisha finally understood what she had done. "No please don't kill me! I won't tell nobody, I swear please." Her little arms and legs shook and she peed down her leg as he forced her down to her knees. "Please don't!" Her last plea was unintelligible. She broke down as the man pushed her down and put the blade against her skin. The people in the room were horrified, but none of them thought that they could do anything other than get themselves killed. There was no escaping.

"This is a lesson."

Marshon shook Jan again, and her eyes shot open. "No don't!", Jan yelled. "Don't hurt her!" Jan's legs kicked, and she pulled against the iron sphere, but it wouldn't give. "Kill me instead!", Jan's own pleas were as frantic as Tyisha's. Jan had promised to keep the girl safe, and she couldn't even keep herself safe. She needed her strength. She needed it more than she ever had in her life. She searched herself for a trace, just a shred of the power that she was used to wielding like second nature, but it wasn't there, not a touch of the strength.

"This is partly your fault, but after I kill her, don't worry you're next." He laughed and forced Tyisha down more.

Jan pulled against the iron, but he had trapped her entire forearm. Once again the rage came over Jan. She relished it. She needed her strength. She hoped and prayed with all her will. She felt the need for her strength as strongly as any time before, but once again it wasn't there. She wouldn't look for it again. Her face turned beet red and her body strained and surged against the trap. "Let her go!", Jan yelled loudly, but the machete wielding terrorist was no longer listening. He didn't even look in her direction, so he missed the show.

Jan's mind ceased to function as she became lost and enveloped by her own rage. Her face was twisted and contorted as she pulled against the trap, but the iron would not give. Her eyes focused on Tyisha's face, and Jan took a deep breath filling her lungs with oxygen to fuel her muscles which growing and pumping up as she pulled. Jan stopped yanking, and instead put her back against the sphere of iron and pulled her legs in so she could use them too, but it would be her pecs and her wondrous biceps that would endure the most pain. Jan set her body against the iron, and then pulled with one sustained effort. At first nothing happened. Her arms didn't move. Nothing did, but as Jan's face went past red to purple, her muscles changed too. Jan's biceps were pulled taunt and strained, and the peaks stretched her skin until it looked ready to pop. Veins appeared on her skin, some thick and throbbing, and a smaller network of veins and arteries feeding the muscles, pumping more and more oxygen. Her muscles thickened and flexed until the striations and cuts were deeper and more shredded. She pulled still harder against the iron. Her vascular pecs tightened and bunched as she used them trying to free herself. Her face took on the look of an animal as she pulled. Her biceps surged again as her peak forced itself higher as she pulled with all she had. It still wasn't enough. She needed more from her body. She needed everything it had. Her muscle fibers fired faster and faster splitting and bursting. Her already swollen biceps grew harder as she pulled. Her face was that of a woman trying to move the whole world as she pulled. Then she felt something give. It wasn't the iron. It was her flesh. Her arm slid as Jan tore her own skin and muscle. Blood seeped from the wound lubing the entire operation. She didn't even notice the pain; she just knew that her hand had moved.

The terrorist raised his machete. Jan's scream was primal and frightening as her muscles released the last power they had. Her fast twitch muscle fibers were worked to failure. They were so pumped that her skin looked transparent with pure muscle showing through. The iron dug into the skin above her wrists, but she didn't care. The skin gave more and more until two skeins of it ripped completely and she was free. Jan jumped forward as the machete began to fall. She couldn't get to Tyisha fast enough. She wasn't going to make it. Through all of that, she was still too late. Jan hit the floor short of the execution spot. She stretched her left arm forward and used her legs and other arm to push her on the floor just that last little bit. She felt Tyisha beneath her arm as the machete fell in this terrorist hand. He saw all this happening, but it was too late for him to change his aim. Instead he just brought the blade down even harder. He would slice everything. Then there was a curious clank and thump as the blade cleaved through the ragged flesh of Jan's forearm, but stopped cold against her bone.

The terrorist looked at the misshapen blade of his machete then at Jan. Her face hardly looked like a person's. She rolled and snatched the blade from her arm and sliced up with it. The terrorist moved back and went for his rifle. Before he could swing the barrel, Jan took a long step forward and stabbed the machete as hard as she could. It slid off his body armor and hit the flesh of his lower abdomen. A machete wasn't good for stabbing, but it shocked him. He lost control of his weapon and staggered back. Jan tripped him and put him on the floor. His head hit the granite and that was all she needed. She took the machete in both hands and took careful aim at the center of his face. Her blood dripped from her mangled forearms as she held the blade still for the heartbeat it took for her to aim, and then she released all the strength stored in her perfect body. She almost made it all the way down when everyone heard the clack-clack of a shotgun just before a pattern of 12 gauge buck shot slammed into Jan's left side. Her white top instantly turned red as her left side looked like road-kill from the close range shot. Jan fell against the rear wall not far from the sphere, and the machete fell not far from her. Everybody knew that it was over for her now. The kids moved closer to her, even though moving could have meant their deaths.

The leader walked in and shook his head. He got on the radio. "Get in room 3 pronto", he ordered Roderik. This was starting to get bad. He knew that they might have to move up their time table and all because of that tall chick he'd just shot. He turned and started for the hall.

The kids got close and some of them touched Jan, who lay motionless again. Some of them cried. Then Jan's eyes opened and she winked. "I'm okay", she mouthed. "Move back", she told them without making a sound. The children didn't know what to think, but they did as she told them. Jan moved her arm just a little bit until her fingers touched the handle of the machete. She stopped moving and let her body heal. She could feel the lead balls inside her, and she could feel her body fighting against the foreign objects. Jan knew that she could speed her healing along, but the last thing she wanted to do was bring out that calm healing power of hers. She needed anger and lots of it. Then she heard Sara in her head.

"Jan are you shot?", Sara asked. Jan could hear the anticipation and energy in her voice.

"Yeah, but go ahead." Sara explained the plan. Jan listened while she pretended to be dead. "Ok, I'll give you the signal from up here when I'm ready."

Sara frowned down stairs. "What's it going to be."

"I haven't figured it out yet, but you know me."

Sara sighed and broke off contact. She had to get ready to send a thought to Agent Wills and take care of the three terrorist in her own room. Jan would handle her own.

Alisha was relieved to hear that it was about time. She looked around the room one more time to make sure she had every detail locked in to her brain. She checked the image in her mind's eye and then released it so subtly that no one even noticed. No one knew that they were no longer experiencing reality as it was. They were seeing only what Alisha wanted them to see, hearing what she wanted them to hear.

Alisha held the illusion for everyone while she got up and walked to the door. She went right past two terrorists, but neither of them even felt her go by. Alisha peeped out the door. The natural light from the forty foot windows illuminated the hall without need of many bulbs, and the white granite made picking out targets easy. Alisha counted the terrorists then walked back inside. She got back into her sitting position and released her illusion. Nobody noticed. She waited until she felt Sara in her head to report what she had seen. Sara shared it with Jan.

Alisha could feel the rush as the time got closer for the attack. She got the illusion back in her head, but this time it would be a little trickier. Alisha could feel consciousness similar to the way Sara could, but not as deeply. She could either direct her illusions to one person or two, or project it onto one and exclude the other, or she could simply project it onto anybody in the area. This time she was going to do a combination of the three. It was going to be tricky. She got the illusion and released it to everybody in the area, but then excluded every single hostage in the room individually. She stood up and faced the group of people in her room. Her students were too shocked to talk when they saw their teacher stand up as if there weren't men with guns around.

"Okay everybody", Alisha said urgently. "I'm going to need you to move over there." She motioned to the other corner of the room far away from the door.

Her students looked at the terrorists who kept up their normal patrols while Alisha stood in the middle of the room. "What's going on here Miss E?"

"They can't see me or any of you. Now move." Her students did as they were told, and a few other people moved whispering nervously to each other, but some of them stayed still. Alisha walked right in front of a terrorist and stepped closer to them. "Get on the other side of the room, now!" The people jumped when she raised her voice and pointed. A couple of people were too scared, but others help urge them. Soon every person was in the other corner except one man. He looked at Alisha and shook her head. He clutched a bag to his chest and wouldn't move. Alisha threw up her hands and walked behind one of the terrorists. She unsnapped his holster strap and roughly pulled out his pistol. The terrorist simply maintained his route. The people were all amazed as Alisha took the pistol and pulled back the hammer. She pointed it right at the stubborn man's head. "Move or I'll shoot you myself."

No one was more amazed than the man with the gun in his face. "Wha... What are you doing?"

"I need everyone on that side of the room. That means you too."

"But how are you..."

"Does it matter? Now move!" The man finally started towards the other side. Alisha kicked him as he went. She thought about hitting him with the gun. She went back to her students and got down.

"Miss E, are we dreaming or somethin?"

Alisha smiled. "No, you're wide awake. Just wait this'll all be over soon."

The lid of Jan's left eye wasn't completely closed allowing her to see enough of the room to know when it was time to make her move. Everything was in position outside. Sara and Alisha were ready inside. Now everything fell on her, but it was a position she was used to. She watched as the terrorist she had stabbed with the machete sat up and finally got to his feet.

"So the chief killed that bitch?", he asked Roderik.

"I guess so." Both men looked at the mess the scattergun had made of her side, but they didn't know that beneath the red stained shirt, Jan's body was already healing itself.

Jan watched patiently, holding her breath until the time was right. Roderik turned his back and walked towards the hall while the other guy bent down to retrieve his rifle. This was it. Jan grasped the handle of the machete and burst up from the floor. The terrorists could hear the blade of his own weapon slicing through the air as this girl's long strong arm arced forward.

"No fucking way!", were his last words. Jan drove the blade into his unprotected neck until it hit his strengthened bone. She let the blade stay. She didn't have time to retrieve it. She dug in and sprinted towards the door. She had no time to think about anything else as she ran.

The dying terrorists gurgled blood. People moved away from him and cried as blood poured from this horrible wound. Some people threw up. They didn't know that hot blood had such a powerful smell.

Jan knew well though, as she ran. Roderik heard the commotion and turned when Jan was still a ways off. He raised his rifle and fired. His first shot hit the granite wall behind her, but the second shot hit Jan in the hip on the right side. The third shot slammed into her right shoulder. He pulled the trigger again. The bullet hit right in the center of her chest. This shot knocked her off stride and pushed some air from her lungs, but she righted herself and kept coming. Roderik panicked, and Jan was on him. She raised her knee and drove it into Roderik's crotch. She took a step back and socked him in the jaw as hard as she could with an injured shoulder. The rage was still strong enough to dull the pain, but the bullet fragments were still in there. Roderik fell against the railing of the balcony overlooking the front entrance. He bounced against it and flopped onto Jan. She bent down and let him fall against her shoulders. She got a good grip on his combat belt. Her back came alive with muscle shapes as she grit her teeth and lifted Roderik and all his gear off the ground.

"Hey! Hey!", he yelled as he felt his body leave the ground. He put his hands on Jan's arms, but he didn't have time to grab hold of anything, only to feel the steely hard muscle beneath her still smooth skin, as she powered him off and over the railing. Then with a grunt of pure strength, Jan threw him. Her muscles bulged out proudly, as hard as any sculpture in the building as Roderik flew from her grasp. Roderik reached out to grab the railing, but only the tips of his fingers touched before he started to fall, and it was a long way down. He screamed until he landed, hitting the granite floor forty feet below.

"Holy shit!", the terrorist patrolling the hall yelled and looked up. Jan had already moved back into the room.

"Get down everyone!", she ordered the people in the room. Everyone moved without another word. Nothing about this woman left any room for dissension. She picked up a rifle, and took position in front of Alisha's students.

Sara knew when that man had hit the floor that it was Jan's signal. She prepared to send the signal to Agent Wills, but one of the terrorist turned towards the hostages with his gun at the ready. "Fuck this!", he said and prepared to pull the trigger. Sara acted quickly. He felt invisible pressure all around him. He fought against it. Sara's eyes narrowed as her own anger grew from being scared and nervous for the last several hours. This man struggled against her hold, but she simply crushed him harder. This terrorists enhanced muscles tried to protect him, but Sara had killed things far stronger than him, but as mad as she was, she didn't have time to toy with this man. Her face twisted a little as she gave this man one more invisible squeeze. People were appalled as they looked at his man being crushed. They heard bones snapping and strange sounds escaping his mouth and other openings. The blood sprayed out. His eyes nearly popped from their sockets and thick blood ran from this terrorist's ears. Then he fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes. It had happened too fast for the other terrorists in the room to react, but they did after he hit the ground. Sara simply lifted both men in the air and threw them against the granite wall. Both men were knocked out when their heads hit the wall. She then tossed them out of the room and into the hall. With that done, she sent one word to Agent Wills. "Go!"

"Go! Go! Go!", he yelled into the radio. The team moved immediately. They switched on the six devices surrounded the building. For years American soldiers had ruled the night with their advanced optics and night vision technology, but until today the day had been fair game for everyone else. When those spot light looking devices were turned on and pointed at the right spots on the building, everything inside the Gallery went dark. It was as if a big blanket had been placed over the structure. Alisha smiled as she saw the world outside go from bright and sunny to completely dark.

There were bits of chaos as the joint team of Federal agents and soldiers blasted into the Gallery. The sound of gunfire crackled throughout the building bouncing and reverberating off the stone walls and floor. Terrorists cursed and screamed as they fired blindly.

"What the hell!", the terrorists near Alisha yelled as they ran out into the hall way. They could hear the gunfire, but not see it. They ran out with their guns at the ready, but without any targets. Then at once, Alisha removed her illusion and they were thrust into the same darkness that everyone else was in. Through the flashes, Alisha saw two of the three get shot.

The leader was near the roof when the world got dark and the shooting started. He reached into his pouch and pulled out his flashlight. He flipped it on and spun round. His light illuminated a black clad Delta Force soldier who looked to the leader like an alien. His face was painted black and his eyes were covered by opaque goggles. The man pointed his weapon and pulled the trigger. Max, the Revolution team leader fell to the floor. That scenario was repeated all around the building. Alisha still read the battle from the flashes of light out in the hall, and one of those flashes caused her to jump to action.

She saw a terrorist run into the room trying to hide from the assault. She could hear his breathing and smell the cordite following him. He aimed his gun and fired into the room. Hitting a woman and her teenaged son. Alisha ducked her head, but raised it and aimed the pistol in her hand just above the bright flash of the rifle. She pulled the trigger twice. The shooting stopped, and they heard a person hit the ground.

After only a couple of minutes, the shootings was over. "All clear!", they heard people in the hall yelling and echoing the call around the building. Two Delta soldiers stepped into the room as the sunlight returned like it had never left.

"United States Army. You all can consider yourselves rescued." People screamed and jumped up in unabridged joy while the Delta guys calmly called in medics for the two injured hostages and for the terrorist that Alisha had shot in the face. Her first shot had entered one cheek and exited the other. Her second shot had sliced a groove up the side of his head. He was hurt badly, but not quite dead. The soldier on the left walked down the hall while the other stayed to make sure nothing else happened.

Alisha was still in the middle of the wild celebration. She took Marquez by the hand and approached the soldier standing in the doorway. "Had a rough day, Alisha?", Sergeant Luther Taylor asked.

"It sucked." They shared a laugh. "How's your day been?"

"Ah you know me. Any day where I get to shoot and blow shit up is a good day for me."

"And save a life or two."  They both laughed again.

Marquez looked up at the soldier as if he had stepped right off the movie screen. "Miss E, you know him?"

"Of course I do. That's Sergeant Taylor. Who do you think taught me how to shoot?"

The little boy didn't know what to think. He thought that Miss E was just an art teacher and student at Georgia Tech. Now he was seeing all of this. There was so much that he didn't understand. His mind didn't know where to begin.

Sgt. Taylor stepped forward. "Alisha here is a good operator, whenever she wants to stop fooling around and come on back to work. At least you haven't turned into complete jelly, but if your training had been current you would have taken out that guy back there instead of turning his head into a checker board."

Alisha shook her head as the rest of the class joined their teacher.

Upstairs Jan had been crouched down with the kids when the light had returned. A FBI Hostage Rescue guy and a soldier had announced that they were now free. Jan put the rifle down. Jan looked around the floor as people kept coming in. She looked left and right quickly as the soldiers and feds came in.

"This what you lookin for?", Tyisha asked and handed up Jan's Emory Eagles jacket. Jan just smiled and put it on quickly. She zipped it up as the soldiers came in covering her various injuries.

"Nice work", Agent Bruce from the FBI told Jan as he came up to her.

Jan shrugged her shoulders. "I do what I can." It was time to try and let the tension drain away. They lead Jan and the students downstairs. Doctors from all over town had answered the call and come to help in case this rescue had turned into a blood bath. Instead of treating real injuries, most of the doctors and nurses were simply checking people out. The students were reunited with their families after behind checked by the doctors.

Several doctors looked at Jan's face as she walked by wondering if she was going to stop so they could treat her, but she already had her eyes fixed on her next target. Jan easily spotted her father among the people in the front hall. She came up to him, and he put his arms around her. "Good job, Pumpkin."

"Easy Daddy, I'm pretty sore."

He smiled at her. Agent MacCallum was there too. He shook her hand and gave her a thumbs up, but he was on the phone. Jan looked around and grinned when she saw Alisha. "So you were complaining about a lack of action, what about now?"

Alisha tilted her head and nodded a couple of times. "This ought to do me for a while. I heard you had it pretty bad upstairs."

"Fighting three guys who have super strength without mine wasn't the easiest thing I've ever done."

"I knew you could do it", Sara said as she came over to them. "Hey, Mr. Caufield", Sara greeted him in person. She always greeted people in person even when she had been talking to them inside of their heads before coming face to face.

"Good to see you're well Sara, and you too Alisha. You three work well when you're not being flighty."

Sara and Alisha looked at each other and laughed. They were never flighty. "Sara there's somebody here looking for you." Sara turned to her right and saw her father walking past a group of hostages. She hurried over to him.

"You didn't tell me you were coming." She had spoken to her father more than once after the hostage situation had begun.

"I know, but I couldn't help it. I took the plane and told them to fly it apart to get here as quickly as possible. So how do you feel?"

"Tired, but I'm okay. My room was pretty uneventful compared to Jan and Alisha's but that's fine with me." Sara sighed before she asked, "Where's Charles? I'm surprised he didn't come."

"Oh he wanted to, but I wouldn't let him. I didn't want both my children in a dangerous situation. He wasn't happy about it."

Sara smiled. "I'll talk to him in a minute."

William Hewitt's face changed, becoming a bit more serious. "I've been wanting you to talk to him anyway. He's been a little distant recently, and more temperamental. I don't know what it is, and he wouldn't tell me. Maybe he'll tell his big sister."

"I noticed that the last time I saw him. I'll ask him about it." Sara took a drink from a bottle of cold water that her father had brought for her.  "And on another subject, Daddy, there's some website that you should probably have our lawyers get in touch with."

"Really, why?"

While Sara explained, Alisha called her parents on MacCallum's phone. Alisha's father, Karl, had been scouting movie sites in Canada, but he was quite relieved to hear his daughter's voice. Alisha's mother Cheryl had been near hysterics out in Los Angeles, but she was more or less fine now.

After a few minutes Agent Wills lead the group to a large office off the main hall. Inside the gathering turned into a celebration because the news came down that the assaults in Boston, St. Paul, and Las Vegas were successful. The St. Paul and Las Vegas assaults weren't as successful. Some feds and soldiers had been wounded and more hostages had been lost, but Boston had gone off pretty well, mostly because the Hostage Rescue guys had had the help of a Special Projects guy named Mel Johnson.

Things turned into a festive after action session. General Parker had joined the group as had Lonnie and Al from Special Projects. "You got shot where?", Agent Wills asked loudly.

Jan pointed to her sternum. "It hit right in the middle of my chest, and in my hip, but the buck shot on my side hurts the worst."

"Buck shot?", Sara asked sympathetically.

"Yeah, here see."

Agent Miles came in with the forensic guys. This place was a mess, but they broke it down into areas of responsibilities and got to work. Agents spread all over the place. Agent Miles had already talked to a few people, but he figured that this case was going to consume his life for the next few weeks. He went upstairs and saw that the downstairs was comparatively neat. Everything was knocked over up here and blood was all over the floor. Agent Miles went to where a fellow he didn't recognize was collected tissue from a large iron sphere. There was skin stuck to it in big clumps. Agent Miles couldn't guess how that flesh had gotten there.

"What the hell happened up here?", he asked aloud.

"I can't confirm, but someone said that one of the hostages kicked the shit out of three of the bad guys and killed one of them. Put one guy's eye out and dumped the other one over the railing putting him out of commission for a while."

"Did they say who?" Miles couldn't believe that anyone could beat these guys without weapons and an advantage. After all these guys were supposed to have been extraordinarily strong.

"I didn't get a name", the forensics guy began. "Everyone just said that it was a tall chick, a really really hot tall chick, with the prettiest blue eyes you ever seen."

Miles' blood went cold. It was Jan Caufield again. He had to find Agent Wills or MacCallum. Someone had to tell him what was going on. Jan Caufield just kept coming up where she wasn't supposed to. He asked around and found out that they were in an office. Agent Miles made a bee line for the partially open office door. He could see a group of people inside. He saw Jan Caufield in there laughing and lifting up her jacket and leaning to one side. Miles could see the tattered shirt and red stains of blood from there. He took one step closer before Agent MacCallum saw him looking. The head of the FBI in Atlanta, looked Miles in the face just before he shut the door on him. Miles could have exploded right then. He felt like his head about to split in two.

"Is there buckshot still in there?", Agent Wills asked after Jan put her jacket back down.

"Yeah, and I have something in my shoulder too... oh wait." Jan reach her left hand under her jacket and top then pulled out a large bullet fragment. "I think that one worked its way out." Everyone laughed. "That's not funny. You don't have to feel what I feel." She rotated her shoulder a couple times.

A few minutes later there was a knock at the door. Agent Wills opened it. "I thought it would be you two. Someone need a doctor, cause we brought two."

Jan smiled as Doctors Ian Brooster and Louis Brown came in. Jan hugged Ian and shook Dr. Brown's hand. "Miss Caufield", Dr. Brown began. "I thought I told you to duck the next time someone shot at you."

"I have been", Jan pleaded her case. "But it was either me or a ten year old girl."

Dr. Brown seemed to ponder for a moment, then smiled. "Ok, I'll let you off the hook. How soon do you want that stuff out?"

"Now."

Agent Miles was sitting on a bench as the group exited the office laughing amongst each other. They were all so familiar with each other. Who the hell were they, and now he had to throw Sara Hewitt and Alisha von Edder into the pot with Jan Caufield. He would get to the bottom of this. He would start by finding out what each had done here in the Gallery. He sought out the hostages, but he was barred from talking to them. He was told that Homeland Security had them quarantined, but while he was there he saw an FBI agent go in and a Treasury official come out. They were lying to him. Agent Miles was going to find out the truth even if it killed him.

In Boston that night, Jiya Travi held her husband close to her the entire night. She didn't ever want to let him go. She would never forget her fear, or the sight of the biggest man she had ever seen carrying her husband out of the battle damaged Hynes Center. Paul's only wound was a fractured leg. Mrs. Travi could live with that, and as Paul put his arm around his wife, he guessed that he could too.

Recent Chapters:

Chapter 1      Chapter 2      Chapter 3       Chapter 4      Chapter  5      Chapter 6      Chapter 7      Chapter 8      Chapter 9      Chapter 10

There are plenty of others where this story came from.  Please check out the bookshelf for all the past chapters of Power and Fury and my other series.

drop the author a line: dem2@hotmail.com