Date: Fri, 28 Jul 2006 14:32:28 EDT
From: Jetjt@aol.com
Subject: Super Jeff, Chapter 28

The following story is a work of gay fiction. If the subject matter is
offensive to you or you are too young, please exit now. This story is the
property of the author and may not be reproduced without permission. John
Tucker JETjt@aol.com


				SUPER JEFF

			   Chapter Twenty-eight

TYLER'S POV

I was more than a little bit tired as the plane landed in Rome. The Chief
of our station there, a short, rounded man with an unusual name, Giuseppe
O'Connell, met me at the plane's extended ladder.

"Ah Mister Turner," he said extending his hand for a shake as I stepped on
the tarmac, Welcome to Roma."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. O'Connell," I said with a tired smile,
"and please call me Tyler. I apologize for getting you out of your home on
Saturday."

He smiled, sweating in his light colored suit.

"Think nothing of it Sir. I'd be pleased if you'd call me Gus," he
replied. "How did you find London and Berlin?"

"I'm afraid I was in neither place long enough to make any qualified
judgments," I confessed, "though both places were much cooler than Rome, I
must say."

"Yes," Gus agreed. "Even the Roman emperors escaped to Capri in the
summer. In fact the Popes, in order to escape the heat, liked to travel to
the mountains of Avignon in France in the Middle Ages. Some liked it so
much that they stayed, so we finally had to boot the last one out and get a
new Pope who would stay home more," he said with a grin. "Most of Europe is
on vacation this month so Rome is practically empty during this heat."

I looked at the heavy traffic as we got into his car, heading for the hotel
where I'd spend the night.

"It's a bit hard to imagine that," I commented as we weaved in and out of
the bedlam.

"This is nothing," he commented taking his hands off of the wheel and
gesturing.

Grabbing the wheel again, he dodged a Vespa motor scooter which had the
audacity to cut in front of the Fiat sedan in which we were rocketing.

"Damned tourist," he said, only half in jest. "No Italian would ever do
that. They'd have been dead long before they ever got to his age."

I laughed. I liked Gus.

"We're putting you up at the Hilton," he informed me. "We have nothing
planned for you tonight since we know that it will take a bit of rest to
get your legs back after your long journey. I'd be pleased though, If you'd
let me buy you a cocktail or two as well as dinner."

"I'd be most pleased to do that as long as we can make it an early night,"
I agreed. "You're right about one thing. The trip is tiring even in a jet
with the accommodations that ours have."

"It's only a shame that you don't have time to really see our city," he
lamented.

"That's something that will have to wait until I can visit with the
family," I declared, "though from what I can see it's beautiful and would
be well worth the trip."

"I'm sure you'd enjoy it," he declared, "as I would enjoy Las Vegas in your
United States. I hear it is a fabulous place."

"Yes, the casinos and entertainment are great," I conceded, "Most people
don't realize that for most of us who live there, it's just a city in which
to live, with houses in neighborhoods, grocery and drug stores, shopping
malls, schools and all the other things that typify a growing American
city. Except for those who work there, the locals rarely spend time on the
Strip, and even then it's only when company is in town."

"Yes, I suppose it's so," he said. "What we see on television is much
different from that."

"I'm sure that the impression that we get about Rome through the media is
also far different from reality," I countered. "At least if what I'm seeing
is reality."

"True, true," Gus agreed. "Well, here we are," he exclaimed as the car
careened to a stop in front of the hotel. "I'll have the valet park the car
once we have your luggage."

I was happy to get out of the small vehicle with my life!  Rome was not a
place I'd care to drive, I concluded. I'd hate to be on the same roadway as
Gus, and if he was a typical Roman driver, heaven help the unprepared. Gus
gave defensive driving a new meaning.

A bellman quickly extracted my bags from the back of the small car and led
us to the check-in desk. Gus tore past me when I moved to the back of the
small line as he dashed to the counter. "Mr. Turner has arrived," he said
with a slightly raised voice.

"Ah Mr. Turner," a suited man said with a smile as he bade me to approach
the counter away from the other people checking in.

"I'm Mr. Franco, the Manager," he explained. "Welcome to the Roma
Hilton. You're room is ready, if you'll just sign here," he said sliding
some prepared paperwork onto the counter and handing me a pen, indicating
where I should sign. As I did so he clapped and the bellman with my luggage
moved toward us.

"Thank you Mr. Franco," I said smiling. "Now if I could get your bellman to
take my things to my room, Mr. O'Connell and I would like to visit your
bar.

Clapping again to get the bellman's attention, Mr. Franco said, "Antonio,
please take Mr. Turner's luggage to the Royal Suite. Then return the key to
him in the bar. Make certain that everything is perfect in the room before
you leave."

"Yes Sir," the cute bellman said in English. "I'll not be long Sir," he
promised after looking at me."

"There's no hurry," I assured him, as I again turned to the manager. "Thank
you for your courtesy Mr. Franco."

"It is our pleasure to serve you," he said with a bow.

"The bar is this way," Gus said, taking my arm, guiding me away from the
counter.

"Lead the way," I said. "I'm ready to relax."

JEFF'S POV

Sir Reginald's manor house was huge. After we'd all had a round of
cocktails, Sir Reginald suggested that Kayden take us on a tour of the
house and grounds. In an hour we didn't get to see it all. The house was a
mansion of great size.  Kayden said it was around 3500 square meters, or
more than 30,000 square feet! That was 20,000 square feet larger than my
parents' home in Palos Verdes. It took us 25 minutes just to go though most
of the house, looking not only at the rooms themselves which were gorgeous,
but at the artwork that adorned them. Skipping a lot of the guest rooms and
servants' areas we spent the balance of the hour in the gardens. Las Vegas
compared to Southern California is a desert wasteland, and Southern
California is a wasteland compared to most of the English countryside. I
must say, the English take their gardening most seriously. The estate was
probably 30 acres, all of which was manicured. In some areas it looked wild
but that was because it was meant to look wild. If you looked carefully
however, you could see that the normal rubble of woods, such as broken
branches, dead trees and other litter of a truly wild forest, were not
present. Damaged trees were either removed or pruned. The "manicured"
gardens around the main manor house were of the "English Country Garden"
design which was open, with vistas of lawn between clumps of woods. There
were also tree-surrounded mini-gardens that were each small jewels with a
theme, such as an oriental garden or a rose garden. Unlike the French type
garden, the English garden was far less formal, with plants that "looked"
natural, even though they were specifically pruned and nurtured to look
that way.

As we finished our tour outside, the absence of direct sun which had set
below the trees a half hour earlier, cast a quiet serenity over the
gardens.  Reentering the manor house, Sir Reginald and his partner, Geoff
announced that dinner was nearly ready and offered us another cocktail
before dinner. We thanked them and declined, preferring not to work
ourselves into a buzz that we might regret in the morning, particularly
when we expected alcohol in the form of wines, to be served with dinner.

The English have an international reputation for being poor chefs, but if
the fare at dinner was any gauge, the reputation is poorly founded. After
salad, bread and soup, the entree was excellent with perfectly prepared
lamb served with mint jelly on the side, with escalloped potatoes, stuffing
and fresh green beans. The dessert was a delicacy of a spider web dome of
hardened chocolate over fresh peach ice cream surrounded by red
raspberries. It was all delicious.

All during the meal, I couldn't keep my eyes from meeting the gaze of
Kayden. He was a brilliant conversationalist, funny and fun to be
around. After the meal we all retired to the `smoking room' for
after-dinner drinks. Reggie, as he asked us to call him, and Geoff were
excellent hosts, making sure we wanted for nothing. As we relaxed with our
drinks and/or coffee, Reggie's face lit up.

"I say, I have a capital idea! Jeff, Chris, would you mind if Kayden and a
friend accompanied you on your golf outing?"

"Of course not," I said immediately, knowing that the scenery of having
Kayden around would be worth the trip by itself.

"We'd like that," Chris agreed.

We looked at Kayden, who after a moment of pondering, smiled.

"Yes, I can make that work," he said accepting for him and his friend.

"Do you think that Terrance will be able to go?" Reggie asked his son.

"I'll ring him up directly," Kayden promised, "if you'll excuse me."

"Certainly my boy," Reggie permitted. "Take your time."

"Who is Terrance?' I asked.

"He's a friend of Kay's from school. Nice chap, good family and all," he
explained. "I think they're sweet on each other."

"Kayden is gay?" Chris asked.

"I'm afraid so," Reggie said. "I'm afraid it's a condition of one poof
begetting another. I'm sure he won't mind me `outing' him. It's pretty
obvious that you and Jeff are partners."

Chris blushed and I myself was taken a bit aback.

"I wasn't aware we were that transparent," Chris remarked as his face
returned to its normal color.

"Oh you're not," Reggie said, "at least to the average straight person. If
you're gay and sensitive to all the little `signals' lovers give to each
other, it's not a matter of rocket science to see that you two are in
love."

"You've got that right," I confessed.

"How long have you two been together?" Geoff asked.

"Only about 10 weeks," Chris answered. "It was love at first sight, at
least for me."

"I feel the same way," I recalled with a wink, "one look at Chris' face
left me very interested; one look at his body had me head over heels."

Chris slugged me in the arm as he blushed.

"Yeah sure," he said. "I was a skinny little toothpick."

"You're certainly not a toothpick now," Geoff remarked. "It's hard to
imagine that 10 weeks ago you were thin."

"You can blame the slave driver Jeff for that," Chris exclaimed. "Besides
stuffing me with food, he's had me running and exercising every darn day
until I was exhausted."

"Then he's to be congratulated for creating a work of art," Reggie
concluded.

The blood vessels between Chris' heart and the skin of his face got another
workout.

"I mean that in all sincerity," Reggie added. "You both are quite handsome
young men."

"Thank you Sir," I said. "You and your partner certainly were not standing
in the back of the line when they handed out looks either, and your
son^Å. he was first in line. He's absolutely stunning."

"Yes, that Kayden is a looker, right?  Must have gotten it from his
mother. She was a beauty."

"What happened to her?" I asked. "Please feel no obligation to tell us
though. It's really none of our business."

"No, it's alright," Sir Reginald replied. "A bit easier for me to tell you
than for Kay to, I'm afraid, he still takes it hard. ^Å. When Kayden was
about 8 years old, his mother died in a motorway accident. It shattered his
world since his mother, in spite of having nannies to care for him, spent
an immense amount of time with the boy. I was always away on business. I
guess I never was able to take her place."

"If you don't mind me asking, how long have you and Geoff been partners"
Chris asked next.

"Five happy years," Geoff replied. "At first Kayden had a period of some
adjustment with our relationship, as did we. Kayden was about 12 then and
was just discovering his own sexuality. I'm sure that helped."

"Did he know before that you were gay?" I asked Reggie.

"Yes, but not much before," Reggie answered. "I told him about the year
prior I believe. It was about the time that I met Geoffrey. Of course we
were not partners then. That took nearly a year. I was glad I told him
earlier though. Nevertheless, in spite of the fact he thought himself gay,
by the time Geoff and I became partners the trauma of finding out that I
was too and in a committed relationship all at the same time, would have
been a bit much I think. As it was, it was no stroll through the park."

"He seems to care very much for you both," Chris remarked.

"Yes, it's as good as it could be, I'd wager," Reggie said. "Of course he's
away at school during the term, so we don't see much of him for a good part
of the year."

"I'm not sure I'd like living away from home, especially as a youngster," I
said.

"It's just part of the lifestyle for the upper crust in Britain," Reggie
explained. "Has been for hundreds of years."

"It's difficult enough for me to be separated from my parents because of
how much they work," I commented. "I'm sure that I'd feel totally rejected
if I was sent off to a boarding school."

"I'd say that here, it's considered a wonderful place for social
contacts. You have friends that you make for life. Many of the captains of
industry here were school chums."

"You may be right," I conceded. "I'm just glad it's not the norm in
America. I'm sure it will be difficult enough for me to go away to college
next year."

"It's a go!" Kayden said interrupting as he burst into the room with a
giant smile on his face. "Terry's all excited about the prospects. He loves
golf and especially loves Scotland's courses."

"I'm sure it will be a challenge to us," I commented as he rejoined
us. "There are very few links-type courses in the U.S."

"Just a bit of a change in playing style," Kayden assured us as he sat down
beside me. "The heather roughs are murder and the greens won't hold, so you
have to approach them by running up on them. Takes some getting use to if
you're accustomed to the U.S. style courses. By the way, Terry's quite
good. I'm only passable."

"I guess it might be best if you and I are partners then," I offered. "I'm
the more experienced between Chris and me. You guys can give us advice on
how to play."

"I hope you're talking about golf," Kayden kidded.

Reggie and Geoff roared.

"I'll work on your tee time at St. Andrews at first light," Reggie
promised. "When are you leaving for Scotland?"

"Tomorrow late morning," I reported. "Tyler has arranged for a plane to fly
us up there."

"Yes, I know," Reggie said with a smile. "It's one of ours. Just a Learjet,
I'm afraid."

"The sports car of corporate jets," I said with a smile. "Young guys like
that."

"It's a short flight," he said. I'm sure you'll be comfortable."

"Well it's about time for us old guys to retire," Reggie said as he leaned
forward in his chair. "You two are welcome to stay here as long as you
like. I'm sure that Kayden will be glad for the company. When you're ready
to leave, just let Kayden know and our driver will take you back to your
hotel. I should have invited you to stay the night, but I didn't think of
it. I apologize."

"Think nothing of it. Our hotel is more than comfortable," I said as we all
arose out of our seats.  "We'll be leaving soon anyway. Thank you so much
for your hospitality. It's been such a pleasure getting to know you."

"Thank you," Reggie said, extending his hand. "I'm sorry we're so rude to
excuse ourselves early, but Geoff and I have an early engagement."

We all shook hands and with a final wave, Reggie and Geoff exited the room,
heading for the stairs leading to the upper floors.

"I thought they'd never go to bed," Kayden said as we again sat down. "I
hope too that you weren't serious about going back so soon."

"We don't want to overstay our welcome," Chris said.

"Nonsense!  Would you be interested in going out clubbing with Terry and
me? It's loads of fun."

"Can we get in?" I questioned. "I'm 17 and Chris is 16."

"Don't they have fake I.D.'s in America?" Kayden asked. "If I had a bit of
time I'd get you both one, but I'm afraid they might question you about
having an English driver's license. Your accent is a dead give-away."

"Sure we have them," I replied. "We keep them hidden in a secret
compartment in our wallets. Wouldn't want to accidentally use them at the
wrong time, you know?"

"Ha!  Yes that could be a bit embarrassing," Kayden laughed. "I'll let
Charles, our driver, know that he can go to bed and then I'll call Terry
and tell him we're on our way. We'll take you to your hotel when we're done
with our night out."

"Thanks, I'm sure that clubbing will be fun," I said.

"Yes, it's the pips," he agreed with a smile. "Let's move `em out, as they
say in your westerns."

Chris looked at me with raised eyebrows. I just laughed and followed our
gorgeous host.

"We'll have to take Reggie's Jag, I'm afraid," he said, indicating a
British-green Jaguar sedan, "I'm afraid we'll never fit in my
Aston-Martin."

"Damn Kayden!" I said, looking at the silver sports car beside the four
door car. "Isn't that a DB-7?"

"You have a good eye for automobiles," Kayden admitted. "Dad got a bit
carried away when he gave it to me. I guess it's because of the money that
he got for the business. It was his way of apologizing for all the time
he'd spent working instead of with me while I was growing up."

"I'd say that it's a hell of an apology," I said.

"Yes, quite," he concurred. "Now if one of you would ride in front until we
get to Terry's I'd appreciate it. I hate feeling like a chauffeur."

"Not a problem," I said. "Babe, why don't ride shotgun?"

"Okay, but I'll miss you," Chris said with a wink.

Kayden laughed.

"I love you chaps," Kayden commented as he started the car. "I can tell
straight off that we're going to be jolly friends."

"Gay friends, at least," Chris said.

Kayden laughed again at Chris' double entendre.

		* * * It was 2:30 AM when Kay and Terry dropped us off at
our hotel. It had been a fun evening, or `smashing' as Kayden would say. We
were taken to a gay club where our hosts were well known and we got in
without a hitch. Since neither Chris nor I frequented such places in
L.A. it was a new and exciting experience. The place reminded me of the
Queer as Folk bar on TV. There was skin showing everywhere. Chris' eyes
just about popped out of his head. We did some drinking and dancing, but
mostly watched the crowd and the `dancers'.  Chris and I were hit on a
number of times, but we declined the polite invitations. Kayden and Terry
were not so reserved, engaging in some dancing, associated ass grabbing and
frontal rubbing when an unusually attractive guy that they knew would
ask. We just laughed and had a good time, avoiding the back rooms where, we
were told, the real action was occurring. Even though it was fun, both
Chris and I agreed that it wasn't our `thing', at least on any regular
basis.

One result that the evening's activities had for us, was to increase our
level of horniness, not that that feature required any assistance. By the
time we got to our room, we could hardly shed our clothes fast enough. An
hour later, after our levels of passion had been repeatedly drained, we
sank into a deep sleep, still in each other's arms.

RON'S POV

Matt and I had offered to take Frank and Paul to the plane that would
return them to Las Vegas. Dan graciously accepted our offer, as he wanted
to spend the afternoon with his and Tyler's boys. By the time we got back,
Dan called reporting that he'd talked a bit earlier to Tyler who was at the
Rome Hilton for the night before going on to Israel the following
day. Everything so far was going according to plan. I'm certain that Dan
was apprehensive about Tyler being in such a dangerous situation, but he
accepted it as part of Tyler's chosen profession, keeping his concerns to
himself.

It had been fun meeting the Richards bunch. They were nice kids and a
credit to their upbringing. Amanda, Rick and Jeff seemed perfectly
comfortable with the adults in our household, while Chris seemed to relate
more to our kids. I guess it's understandable, considering that their
backgrounds were similar. At any rate I'm sure that we now have a really
nice bunch of younger friends.  I'm sure that all of us, including all our
boys, kept Amanda and Jeff's parents in our prayers, as well as Tyler who
was intent on rescuing them safely.

TYLER'S POV

I awoke early, still feeling a bit hung-over, not so much from the
cocktails or dinner wine, but from the traveling. I had left a wake-up call
but was awake when the phone rang. Answering it, I ordered coffee delivered
to my room. I knew my feeling of disorientation would pass in a day or too
and since it was not debilitating, I chose just to ignore it. The coffee
I'd ordered would help as would my morning shower.

I was still damp with a towel wrapped around my mid-section when the knock
was heard at my door. I answered it, allowing the handsome bellman to roll
in the cart and place its contents on a medium-sized table in my
suite. Tipping the man, I saw him exit, closing the door quietly. I could
tell by his eyes that he was impressed by my body and perhaps a bit
lustful. He was out of luck. My thoughts and my heart belonged to Dan my
partner, and I had far more important things to do than to satisfy the
animal urges with another man while I was away from home.

Selecting my wardrobe for the day I quickly finished my bathroom activities
and dressed before sitting down at the table and helping myself to the
coffee, fruit and sweet rolls that had been served. I knew that Gus would
be by to pick me up soon. Even though it was Sunday, he wanted to take me
by the office to show me where his operation was headquartered. It would
thankfully have to be a short visit though as my flight was scheduled to
take off at 10:30 for Athens. That flight would be short and my stay there
only two hours, just long enough to complete the ruse of visiting our
operation there.

Then it would be time to take off for Tel Aviv.

DR. JEFF RICHARDS' POV

I entered Osama's room to find him propped up in his bed and awake.

"Leave us," he told my companion with the AK47. The man looked a bit
surprised, but did as he was directed, leaving the door slightly ajar.

Bin Laden noticed the door and shouted something in what I presumed to be
Aramaic. The opening in the doorway disappeared. I walked to his chart
posted at the foot of his bed. While I could not understand the notes not
written in English, I noted the vital sign numbers and saw with
satisfaction that there appeared to be no complications.

"How are you feeling today?" I asked in English.

"I'm a bit sore, and hungry, but other than that I'll be fine. Was the
surgery successful?"

"Yes," I said with a drawn smile. "The tissue was removed and tested. It
was as we expected, pre-cancerous and unlikely to have spread further at
this time. I would suggest that it be checked again in six months after
you're healed, then yearly after that."

"You seem to presume that I'll have a long life." he stated with a smile.

"Let's just say that I'm impressed with your resourcefulness." I said
grimly.

"When do you want to start on my second problem?" he asked.

"Have the medications I ordered arrived?"

"Not yet, though I've been given word that they've been acquired and should
arrive here within two days, at most."

"Then that's when we'll begin," I said, hoping secretly that by then we'd
be rescued.

"I notice that they changed your room from the one you were in last night,"
I observed aloud.

"In my business, it's not wise to remain long in one place," he
said. "Please sit down. I'd like to talk with you."

I sat, wondering where the conversation would be leading.

"Tell me a bit about the Hepatitis C treatment," he requested.

"In many ways it's similar to the treatment of HIV, except that there's not
the `cocktail of drugs', but rather only two. The process is long,
uncomfortable and expensive. Depending on how your body reacts to the
medication during treatment, you may think that it would be preferable to
die at times. I can only tell you that the success rate is favorable."

"How long do you anticipate the treatment to take?"

"That's a matter of some concern to me," I answered. "It is often one, but
more likely two series, that are usually 48 weeks each in duration.
Overall, the treatment can take slightly over two years."

"I perceive you think that it might be more than a bit inconvenient for
you," he said watching my facial expression as I talked.

"Yes," I confirmed, "I'd suggest that you find a physician that you can
trust to handle the treatment," I added. "I'd be happy to consult with him
before the treatment begins."

"I'm happy to report that we've looked into that possibility and the
prospects are good," he replied. "Of course we considered keeping you too."

"I'd never agree to that," I answered.

"I was sure of it," he said. "We took steps to insure your cooperation, but
unfortunately those steps have not been successful."

"What kind of steps?" I inquired, fighting hard to quell my fear of his
answer.

"We attempted to kidnap your son Jeffrey, and daughter
Amanda. Unfortunately, our attempts' were badly executed, I'm afraid and I
called off any further attempt. Now, since we've found another doctor of
our own faith, we're back to your solution, which is probably far better in
the long run."

"What do you propose to do with my wife and me?" I asked.

"I can assure you that the matter has been under serious consideration," he
replied. "I know I promised to release you, but I'm being opposed by others
in my organization in that commitment. As of now, as you'd say, `the jury
is still out'."

"We're prepared for any eventuality," I responded. "We're not stupid
people."

"Yes, I can see that," he replied "I only regret that we haven't had more
time to get acquainted. From just our short contacts, I've come to admire
you. That has little effect however on my attitude toward Americans or your
government."

"I wouldn't expect a miracle," I retorted.

Bin Laden laughed, then grimaced as the effect on his incision was felt.

"You must think that I'm heartless or cruel, perhaps even mad?"

"The thought had crossed my mind, I'll admit," I replied. "That however has
no bearing on your medical treatment by me. I'm sworn to treat illness and
to save lives if I can, not take them, regardless of how I might feel
personally. I take that vow very seriously."

"I can see that Doctor Richards," he said with surprising sincerity. "You
are a man of honor, and that is a great weakness."

"I look on it as a great strength," I said. "That amongst our other basic
perceptions of life are opposite, though our religions are not so."

"Oh? You think our religions are compatible? I find that hard to
conceive. What do you know of Islam?"

"Not as much as I'd like," I admitted, "Though my wife and I have discussed
it at length. She's the one who's knowledgeable in theology, not me. She
has convinced me that our beliefs are not that dissimilar."

"I may have to have a discussion with her," Bin Laden said.

"I'm sure you'd both find the experience futile," I replied. "It might be
of some academic interest, but I'm sure that she has as little chance of
changing your perceptions or beliefs, as she would of making water run
uphill."

"I'd say your conclusion is sound," he replied. "I guess I'm just a little
puzzled."

"About what?" I asked.

"I expected you to hate me, yet I don't see it in your eyes."

"I have no room in my heart for hate," I replied simply. "We're taught some
very simple truths: First to love God, second to love your neighbor as
yourself, and finally to forgive those who despise you. Hate is destructive
and only ends in ruin for those who practice it. Love is constructive and
rewards those whose hearts are filled with it by giving them rest and peace
of mind."

"Force and fear are more powerful," Bin Laden stated.

"Only in the short run," I retorted in a soft voice. "Jesus, the humble
carpenter, overcame the Roman world through love. Mahatma Gandhi freed
India from British rule by being passive in his resistance.. Martin Luther
King, in my country raised the Negro from segregation the same way as did
Nelson Mandela in South Africa. Those men accomplished far more
permanently, than Alexander the Great, Napoleon, Hitler and the Irish
Republican Army collectively."

"You make a convincing argument doctor," Bin Laden said. "You know I can't
agree, of course."

"I really didn't expect you to Sir," I replied. "Some people can't accept
the truth if it's right in front of them. That's human nature so I'm not
disappointed. I'm not here to preach, only to heal."

"You've done a remarkable job with both," Osama said, "however, I'm not
sure I can allow you to live."

"It's whatever God wills," I replied.

"Yes, it's Allah's will," he agreed with a stern expression. "You may go."

I arose from my chair, looking again at the gaunt bearded figure lying on
the bed. I pitied that mind, the talents of which were being wasted in the
destruction that is characterized by hate.

When I reached the door, I knocked. It quickly opened. "I'm ready," I
announced.

  			*	*	*	*