Robert Ferrigno - Sins of the Assassin

Al-Faisal kept pulling the cord tighter, his grip still strong, but Rakkim just pressed himself against the strangler, ignoring the spots in front of his eyes.

“Did you enjoy hurting my wife?” Rakkim whispered in al-Faisal’s ear as he worked the knife deeper and deeper into the man’s chest. “Did you smile hearing my son call for his mother?” His head throbbed as the knotted cord dug into his neck. “Were you going to feed off the memory for years…savoring their cries…”

Al-Faisal struggled harder now, let go the cord, pushing against Rakkim with both hands. Blood ran down the sides of his mouth as he tried to scream.

“Don’t go,” said Rakkim as al-Faisal’s eyes started to roll back. “Stay just a little longer.” He slowly moved the blade in small circles, the knife cutting through the rib cage.

Blood bubbled from al-Faisal’s mouth as his bones gave way one after the other.

They stood together for a moment, then Rakkim threw al-Faisal’s body aside. Rakkim swayed, trying to breathe, collapsed. He lay against the cool earth, lay there in the blackness, listening…No sign of Darwin. No trace. Just…Rakkim.

Haskins pushed Leo aside, stood up.

Rakkim pulled weakly at the cord still twisted around his neck.

The pressure bandage soaked with red, Leo grabbed at Haskins’s pant leg.

Haskins ignored him, raised his machine pistol toward Rakkim.

Rakkim clawed at the cord with his one good hand.

Leo buried his face in the grass at the sound of gunfire. He looked up as Haskins crashed down beside him.

Sarah lay in the stream, the other Fedayeen’s machine pistol in her hand. She sat up slowly, soaking wet, hair in her face.

Rakkim waved.

Sarah threw down the gun. Went back into the grotto to get Michael.

“You look good,” said Rakkim.

Leo tried to laugh, started coughing, the IV tubes in his arms twitching.

“Thank you, Leo,” said Sarah.

Leo sat up in the hospital bed. “You…you’re repeating yourself.”

“Seeing you like this”-Sarah touched her throat, still bruised purple from al-Faisal’s cord-“brings it back…what you did in the garden. You saved my life.”

Leo nodded. “Weird, huh?” He looked over at Rakkim. “Surprised you, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, I thought you could bend steel with the power of your mind,” said Rakkim.

“I know your secret now, Rikki,” said Leo.

“Oh, yeah?” Rakkim winced as he moved closer, one eye still swollen from the fight with the strangler, his body covered in welts. “Which one?”

“Risking your life for someone…being a hero, it changes a person,” said Leo.

Rakkim rested his hand on Leo’s shoulder, the only part of the kid’s torso that wasn’t bandaged.

“I wasn’t really awake much these last few days,” said Leo, “but I was still thinking. Can’t turn it off even if I wanted to, you know? Like when I overloaded my brain in the Belt. You thought I was unconscious, but I wasn’t. I was just…someplace else.” He grabbed Rakkim’s wrist, held on. “I know all kinds of things now. Things you wouldn’t believe. I’m a lot smarter than I was before. A lot.”

Sarah stood beside the hospital bed. Smoothed the sheet. “You should rest.”

“I’m not bragging,” said Leo. “It’s the truth.”

“Just get better,” said Sarah.

“I didn’t do it on purpose. Jumping in front of the knife…I didn’t mean to do it. I just…did.” Leo glanced at Rakkim. “That still counts, doesn’t it?”

“It still counts,” said Rakkim.

“I remember being so surprised.” Leo shook his head. “I remember lying there and thinking that I was going to die. Me…dead, and all the things I knew, all the things I was going to do, the discoveries I was going to make, the breakthroughs…they were never going to happen.” Tears shimmered in his eyes. “And I thought that was so sad, so…tragic, but I heard your voice, Sarah, and you were talking to Michael, and I thought…maybe it’s okay, dying, you know, maybe it’s not the worst thing that could happen.”

“I’m glad you’re here to tell us about it,” said Sarah.

“Me too,” said Leo. “The world caught a lucky break.”

“Yeah, there’s celebrations going on all across the planet,” said Rakkim. “Haven’t you heard the fireworks?”

Leo smiled, lips cracking. “Michael’s okay?”

“Fine,” said Rakkim. “He’s with your mother and father.”

“We have to go,” said Sarah. “The presidential inauguration is this afternoon.”

“Is that safe?” said Leo.

“Don’t worry. Go back to sleep…or whatever it is you do,” Rakkim said. “The hospital is secure, but as soon as you’re well enough, Spider has a new facility he wants to move you to. The Old One isn’t going to stop looking for you.”

“Let him,” said Leo. “He doesn’t know who he’s dealing with.”

Three hours later, Rakkim and Sarah were in the gallery above the great hall of the Congress, watching Peter Brandt take the oath of office. The president-designate tall and assured, one hand resting on the Quran. Only the second president in the history of the republic. The hall was silent except for Brandt’s solemnly repeating the words spoken by the grand ayatollah, the senators and representatives assembled below leaning forward in their seats.

General Kidd and Amir sat in the front row in their plain blue uniforms. The overhead lights gleamed off Kidd’s stark black cheekbones, his eyes locked deep into their sockets. With the nation still in turmoil and the army in disarray, more than ever the Fedayeen were the key to the nation’s security.

“It’s my fault,” Sarah said softly. “If I had gotten through to President Kingsley ten minutes sooner-”

“You did better than any of us.”

“That day at the apartment,” said Sarah, “Leo asked if I needed help…and I told him I could handle it. He asked me…and I turned him down. Bright as he is, bright as I knew he was…I turned him down.”

“…in the name of Allah, the merciful, I do solemnly swear,” intoned Peter Brandt.

“I didn’t want help,” Sarah said angrily. “I’m Redbeard’s niece, I didn’t need any help. Now…now the president’s dead.”

The grand ayatollah closed the Quran, bowed before President Brandt as the senators and representatives jumped to their feet, shouting, “Assalaamu Alaikum!”

“And now there’s a new president. You make mistakes, people die, you move forward. Perfect people accomplish nothing.” Rakkim noted the fundamentalist legislators glowering at the podium, Black Robes not even bothering to hide their hate. “We’re lucky Brandt was next in line. A solid moderate, just like Kingsley.”

The gigantic screen behind the podium filled with a close-up of Brandt’s handsome face framed by his tousled, sandy hair. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he acknowledged Kingsley’s widow.

General Kidd and Amir stood with their hands folded in front of them as the politicians applauded wildly, and everyone else seemed smaller and dirtier by comparison.

“Brandt’s flexible too, and well traveled,” said Sarah. “We’re going to need that.”

“You trying to convince yourself?” said Rakkim.

Sarah fingered her mother’s small, gold cross as the new president basked in the applause. She had been wearing the crucifix under her blouse since the funeral three days ago, had wept when Rakkim presented it to her. He kept waiting for her to take it off.

“I’ve read the dossier on him,” said Sarah. “He’s the best we could have hoped for. The Old One wanted chaos and insurrection, but he didn’t get it. We won. He lost.”