Disclaimer: The characters of Sue Thomas F.B. Eye as they appear are the creation and spiritual property of Pebblehut Productions Inc. and PAX. This tale that derivates from said show is my creation, the original show has been used to inspire. All other characters presented are mine; all characters are fictional. Any resemblance to real existing people is a coincidence and isn't intended to be harmful/troublesome in any way. Presented facts, figures, translations and geographical places such as streets, towns, scenery e.g. are existing and real and checked for their accuracy.


-oOo-


Author's Note: This story has started as a spin off of a challenge presented earlier this year, and led to the creation of a story I had been wanting to write for at least a year. It deals with a sensitive topic that sadly has seen variations of it inflicted to many innocent people around the world. I wish to express that although Gateways of Bereavement has Islamic Terrorism as it main focuspoint, I have no intention whatsoever to portray Islam as an intolerant/violent religion. Education I have had taught me the true character of this inspiring faith: an insight I sought to share through this story.

Inevitably, it means this story will have moments of angst, violence, degradation, but I tried to avoid the 'easy thrill' and not overdo anything. The main rating for Crime/Suspense is T and in some places borders M due to 'visuals'

Romantically, the main pairing is Jack and Sue based, a ship I find easy to write but not necessarily THE ship of the show. As it is grown custom with my stories, Gateways will deal with Deaf issues, will see American Sign Language next to English and other languages. Translations are provided. Main rating for Romance is T, but has moments of M for intimacy.

Gateways of Bereavement is an exercise in 'off the cuff'-writing. I've come a long way but have still a long way to go until completion. '

I would like to thank in advance you, the reader, for showing interest and attention and I can only hope you'll have as much entertainment in reading as I have in writing. Any writer loves feedback, good or bad, that helps improve elements of the story, show appreciation of one's efforts etc. You're welcomed to review, if you feel like it. If not, thanks for reading anyway!


Gateways of Bereavment


-oOo-


Rainbow Crossing

(Rufus Wainwright)

Well since you are my arch enemy, I'm gonna give you some time

With a heart that's full of alcohol water can be wine

Hope the rocks are not too slippery, when through the center I slay

Won't you stand in straight as an evergreen, when it all gives way

Brace yourself, this whole world will spin about

Since I'm the raft side of this pleasure

Those who have the sense to fear of me are the dark prince

And you are the peasant

Wait for me on the rainbow crossing

'Cause I need you there for me to meet the maker

Finally, I will see your person, but my greatest fear are your shining features

So much time and crime that I've grown to love

Your fiery nation everywhere

On the rainbow crossing you can check your spears, your bows and arrows

Meet me there above the river flowing and we'll enter in with greatest zeros

Though they say Valhalla ain't what it used to be

Still I recollect it can't be all that bad

No, it can't be any worse than a world without a friend


-oOo-


Alt. 400 Ft, Above Foggy Bottom, Washington DC

March 22nd 2007, 7.43 AM


Somehow, the Rufus Wainwright song had crept in his head, and he was unable to get rid of it; its contents summing up what they were facing with an unnerving accuracy.

Flying a few hundred feet above the splendour of the nation's capital, the magnificent scenery of the Mall and the rigid geometrical patterns of the city below were lost on him. His mind kept humming three words over and over: we lost them

The Sikorsky UH-60 Blackhawk began its slow curve over the Potomac, flying past Abraham Lincoln's Memorial. The ascending sun dyed everything in colours of red and gold, the rays illuminating the interior of the helicopter and bouncing off the glass visor of the Specialist next to him. The waters of the curving river reflected the sun's rays in a blinding golden shine, making the river seem like an endless curl of blonde hair, reminding him of the woman he loved, and whom he might never see again.

If they failed.

The brightness of the newborn sun would be overcome by a light more blinding than a thousand suns combined. The warming rays making way for incinerating heat, death and suffering. The splendour turned to smouldering ashes. About the human toll he didn't even dare to think.

A city incapable of running away, hiding from the hatred of a few, with the desire and drive to destroy all. Pressed forward by their prophecies and beliefs, with no fear in their hearts and minds to die in the process. And with ruthless accuracy and determination to succeed.

Special Agent of the Federal Bureau of Investigation Jack Hudson, of the District of Columbia branch, had the equal determination to succeed, but unlike his opponents, he was afraid. Afraid of what this dawning day would bring, of the future. Afraid for his loved ones. Afraid of Death.

He forced himself to snap out of his reverie and leaned forward towards the Pilots "Take this bird down a bit and make a parallel flight over New Hampshire Avenue towards Northeast," he ordered. The helicopter set course to the east.

"Sam 36 to Sam 1, anything from Sam 33 and 31?"

"No Jack, they lost track of them as well," Tara Williams, the team's computer and communications specialist answered, the nervousness and anxiousness palpable in the pitch of her voice, and the fact she forgot about standard procedure and codes.

"We'll find them, Tara," he said, his voice soothing, but he wasn't sure whether it actually did. His throat was constricted, his stomach knotted, he felt the drops of cool sweat running down his back, and over his cheeks. Even though the combat gear was warm, Jack knew he wasn't sweating from the heat. He felt the cold drops of growing fear, each one of them felt as if Death put an icy needle in his flesh.

"CentCom just announced Phoenix SAD has a possible sighting, near 17th and Desales Northwest," Tara practically yelled into his earpiece. "They're heading for 1600!"

"South! South!" The UH-60 took such a sharp turn, Jack and the others were swept sideways in their seats, and for a brief moment, his upper body hung out of the opened side doors.

"CentCom has given Code Red to Phoenix SAD, Code Red."

Jack briefly closed his eyes, the order had been given he had always feared to hear. Code Red meant the Search and Destroy squads of the 'Night Stalkers' 160th SpecOps Aviation Division had the clearance to wipe out every suspect vehicle, person, building that could pose a threat in the area the Standing Order covered, with no exceptions, no mercy and no questions asked.

Only now mattered.

In the densely populated area of downtown Washington, it meant death and destruction, fire-fights and shoot-to-kill-policy let loose right in the midst of unknowing public. The cost could be heavy, Jack feared, but the alternative was….

"Oh, fuck…" the co-pilot suddenly yelled. A blinding light seared through DC's skies, it was whiter than the whitest snow, more blinding than the brightest sun. Out of instinct the men tried to shield their eyes with their hands as the light intensified, surrounding the helicopter, fading out everything that once had been visible.

Al-Qari'a: Judgement Day….

"Sue!..."