Date: Sun, 26 Nov 2000 05:33:54 EST From: ZLATAZOBO@aol.com Subject: Where no one owns the Rain, part 16 Welcome again! Here are the legal statements. If you are not yet old enough or if it is not legal to read this type of material where you live, please leave now. If the subject of homosexual relations offends you please read no further. The following story is a work of fiction and with the exception of Andy and the brief mention of Terry, all persons in this story are fictional. Any resemblance to persons living, dead or not yet born are completely accidental and unintentional. The Author reserves all rights. copyright 2000 The Author is Andrew Simon van Ryan. Email me at Zlatazobo@aol.com Visit me at my web page http://hometown.aol.com/zlatazobo/myhomepage/profile.html Where no one owns the Rain.... By Andrew Simon van Ryan Copyright 2000. All Rights Reserved Part Sixteen * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * CHURCH COUNCIL REACHING OUT DATELINE: ATLANTA ( November 16, 2000 ) - The National Council of Churches, a mainline Protestant and Orthodox group, is reaching out to Roman Catholics, evangelicals and Pentecostals to create a ``new national expression of Christian life.'' The council is expected to pass a resolution Friday committing the group to ask to meet with the other Christian denominations sometime next year. The resolution, approved unanimously by the council's executive board in May and October, sets no specific expectations for the meetings and is intentionally vague, a spokesman said. Conservative Protestants, including Southern Baptists, have been indifferent or hostile to the National Council of Churches in the past, accusing it of being too theologically liberal and of promoting political causes. ``God has already made us one, prior to any decisions we make about it,'' a spokesman said. ``Jesse Jackson and Pat Robertson are called to the same banquet whether they like it or not.'' The council also plans to pass a 10-year political plan to fight poverty. It is hoped that the measure will be another way to unite denominations. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "Andy? Hey, c'mon. It's time to get up" "Huh? Who is it?" I mumbled. It was dark and I couldn't see a thing. I fished for my flashlight, but couldn't find it. "It's Brian. We gotta about fifteen minutes before we leave to the airstrip. C'mon." He replied. His light switched on and I blinked repeatedly in its glare. "Yeah, I'm up. OK." I muttered. My words were met with laughter. "Yeah, right. You're awake and I'm the King of France! C'mon! Get up!" He replied caustically. I stood up and stumbled about trying to find my pants. "Here. These are for you." Brian said and threw a new pair of pants at me. "They're your size and they're clean, something your other pants were not" "OK, OK" I replied as I felt the fog of sleep beginning to clear from my head. I quickly finished dressing. I grabbed up the few items Zeke had packed for me earlier during the day. Just two shirts, clean socks, a razor and a toothbrush. I thought of how kind Zeke had been to me and how much I missed him. I felt my emotions start to cause an ache inside me, so I fought them away. I needed to hurry now. Walking briskly to Noahs empty hut, I entered, lifted the mattress and picked up the small white box with 'ANDY' written on it. Lying beside the box was a package of batteries and an envelope. I picked it up and opened it. It contained $2000 dollars in new scanbills and a note that read: 'Andy. Use this for a hotel room in Puerto Rico. Wait there until your flight leaves tomorrow night. I'll be praying for you and the others. Gabriel' I folded the note and the scanbills together and stuffed them into my coat pocket. The SB-12 and batteries I slipped into my shirt pocket and buttoned it closed. I rejoined the others who were waiting for me at the computer shed. Isiah and Samuel were still at it. "You two gonna be OK?" John asked. "Yep! We've got everything handled here!" Samuel squeaked. His innocent voice was still in the range of 'girlish.' I heard voices approaching behind us and turned to see the four members of the New Orleans group. "Is everyone here and ready to go?" One of them asked. One by one we replied "ready". "John, Brian. Do you have your SB-12's and batteries?" I asked. Each pulled their white box and battery package out to make visual confirmation. "OK, let's go!" I said softly. Turning to the two remaining boys I said "Wish us luck. Take good care of each other and remember us from time to time, OK?" "OK!" They replied in tandem. Hearing this nearly caused me to break down and cry. Terry and I used to speak in tandem like that. I quickly suppressed the memory . I remained silent as I walked to where our beat up Toyota Maxi van waited. Not until after everyone was seated inside and the engine had started did I let my tears flow. As we pulled away I stared at the camps one remaining light, still shining from inside the shed. I wished for the two boys to be together always. I remained staring over my shoulder as I saw the last light go out in Heaven. The small plane was waiting for us. Everyone quickly boarded and within a few minutes we were airborne, headed for the drop off in Puerto Rico. The noise of the aircraft's engines lulled me to sleep after about a half hour. While I was drifting off to sleep, the two semis transporting the main group started their motors on the Mexican side of the Rio Hondo. The Belizean side of the Rio Hondo was littered with the discarded rusty vehicles. These would soon become transportation for the local village, now that they'd completed serving our need. It was about an hour before dawn when our pilot dropped his plane down to less than 200 feet above the water. Flying the last 100 miles underneath the radar 'field of vision', we approached the shoreline as our pilot searched for the signal lights. Just as we flew over the beach, two straight lines made of lights came on about a half mile ahead. These marked the runway. He cut back the engines and within seconds we were down on the asphalt. "Get out as fast as you can and get into the cars quickly." The pilot shouted to all of us. "May God be with you." He declared as the last of our group exited his plane. He gunned the engines, spun the plane around and was back in the air before we had all gotten into the cars. I was last one in. The driver nervously accelerated as I slammed the door shut. The ride into town didn't take long and soon we found ourselves being transferred to another car. This was repeated three more times before we were taken to the San Juan Airport. The group heading for New Orleans was scheduled on a flight leaving right away. Just as we hoped, their tickets were at the counter waiting for them and within 45 minutes the New Orleans flight with the group on it soared into the Caribbean dawn. Brian, John and I got a motel room across from the airport and spent the day watching Television news reports. Conner's roundups were being expanded to include several more religious groups, just as I'd thought would happen. Conner was following right down the National Council of Churches list of 'Identified Cults'. The members of these 'cults' had been labeled by Conner as 'antigovernment' conspirators. Watching the news reports sickened the three of us, so much so that we had to turn them off from time to time. The only reason we watched the reports at all was to learn of the Presidents general location. He scheduled an announcement for that afternoon concerning the EU and it's demand he halt the rounding up of citizens. When the news did go to a live report, Connor made his appearance in the press room at White House. He declared that The United States would not tolerate any interference by other governments into it's affairs. His appearance confirmed he was still in DC and not in a high security 'war room' somewhere else. After this announcement, we turned the TV off and left it that way. At 5:00PM we needed to depart for Miami. As we were about to leave the motel room, my Sat-link phone began vibrating in my shirt pocket. I pulled it out, snapped it open and put it to my ear. "Yeah." "Andy, it's Noah! We did it! We walked right in and took 'em prisoner!" His excited voice shouted at me. "Yeah!" I cried "Oh, fuck yeah! Are you into the system yet?" "Of course! I can't stay on the line cause there's much more to be done, but I wanted you to know everything is a go from here, OK?" "OK, Noah. We're leaving for San Juan Airport now. Call me if anything changes." I answered. "OK, Andy! Bye!" He replied and the line clicked closed. I folded the Sat-link and replaced it in my shirt pocket. "They made it and they're in." I said grinning at my two companions. We all exchanged nods of approval and a few words before exiting the room. Our tickets were waiting for us at the check in counter and we boarded the flight with no problems. I stared out the window as our plane climbed into the dimming daylight. I could see the new State Capitol building in San Juan below. As I was gazing down at the 51st States Capitol, Zeke was looking out of the plane that carried him. Far below he could see the Houses of Parliament on the bank of the Thames River. Within three hours he'd be at Number Ten Downing Street, meeting directly with the Prime Minister. Zeke turned away from the window and once more studied the speech I'd written. In his lap lay the note I'd included. Reading it again he sniffled a bit and smiled. 'Ezekiel. I wish I was going to be there to hear you deliver this speech. Give it all you've got, OK? I pray these words will be remembered as my best effort. I'm glad you will be the one to deliver this speech, for it was you who inspired me to write it. I love you always, Andrew.' He folded the note and the speech together, then returned them to his coat pocket. As Zeke was flying above London, the two semi's in Mexico slowed down. They were approaching the International Bridge leading across the Rio Grande into McAllen, Texas. Merging into the 'CanAmMex Approved' lane the drivers scanned for any unusual activities at the border ahead. Traffic in the 'Approved' truck lane slowed only slightly. Virtually no cars were seen heading into the US from Mexico. However, as they got near, each could see long lines of automobiles stopped on the US side. The military was inspecting every car, truck, and motorcycle trying to leave the country. The two Semis crossed the border without stopping and headed straight on for Washington. The four man group had made it to New Orleans and carried out the task of spreading the rumor of seeing an invasion force in the bayou. So far, all had gone as planned. It was dark when we landed at Miami. Our connecting flight to Washington National Airport didn't depart for about an hour and a half, so we sat in the lounge and drank coffee. The coffee went cold from neglect as we made small talk to lessen our growing nervousness. As we were chatting in Miami, one of the semi's blew three tires by running over debris in the road. While the one truck continued, the big rig with the flats pulled over near the Arkansas border. The driver got out to inspect the damage and as he was bent down looking at the shredded rubber, a lone Texas State Trooper pulled off the road behind him. Watching through a peep hole in the trailers back door, one of the group leaders made a decision. "We're going to take this guy and handcuff him in his car. Then everybody scatter into the pine trees. When word gets out, the state police will notify Conner and we'll have the ball rolling." He whispered. "Can't we just keep quiet until he leaves?" someone asked. "No. You heard the tires blow. At least two went, maybe more. We're not going to get any closer to Washington than this." He replied sharply. "Now everyone get ready!" The State Trooper nearly wet himself when the rear doors of the trailer flew open. Thirty-six high powered fully automatic rifles were all pointed directly at him, along with numerous other semi automatics and pistols. Passing motorists looked on in horror as the Trooper was stripped of his weapons and cuffed. The men put him in the cruisers back seat and then making sure everyone driving by saw, they scattered in every direction, some across the highway and some through the pine trees of Eastern Texas. Within minutes more State Troopers were on the scene. No more than fifteen minutes later the Situation Phone in the Oval Office rang. "Hello?" "Mr. President. A tractor trailer in Eastern Texas was pulled over by a state trooper about a half hour ago. It was carrying a concealed, heavily armed, invading military force. They imprisoned the officer and then fled the scene on foot. We have soldiers in route to hunt for them, sir. I believe this is connected to the DatManDead conspirators, Mr. President." "I'm sure you're right. Give the soldiers instructions to use deadly force if they see fit. Oh, and pass word along that route to pull over any big rig matching the same description. If you find any others carrying invaders, shoot them." Conner said with a nonchalant air. He hung up the phone and turned to the four Secret Service men. "Have someone check to see if the DatMan compiler code has been received into our system yet I want everything to go as we planned." "Yes, Mr. President." One of the four replied. He quickly turned and left the office. As Conner leaned back in his leather executive chair, Noah leaned forward in his peering at the Military computer screen on Swan Island. Clicking the last several keys he paused. Then a series of numbers flew across the screen and a red square blinked in one corner of it. "Bango tango, the fish is swimming. It's gonna get to DC right on time." He said as he turned to look at Gabriel. Gabe smiled and held up one hand. He crossed his fingers and said. "OK. Better hide your tracks and get out of there. We need to monitor communications in and out of the White House now." As the Razorfish on the East Coast powered up and began swimming towards its destination, The boy named Samuel clicked down the 'enter' key and sent the compiler code from the computer shed in the deserted Belizean camp to the system at the Pentagon. "Sammy? I'm scared. It's too quiet out here." Isiah said. "Don't worry, Izzy. We're together forever and I won't let anything happen to you." Samuel replied. "You promise?" Isiah asked. "I promise 'till I die." Samuel answered and he kissed his boyfriend. "I love you, Sammy." Isiah sighed. "I love you too" He replied.