The Heaven Trilogy (153 page)

But now Sula had been overcome by love, and with Abdullah tearing at him like a rabid dog, pulling the trigger came hard. At the last moment, he inched the barrel down. The gun bucked in his hand.

Boom!

The slug took Abdullah in the hip.

The force of the impact spun him into the air and he landed with a thump to his back.

Shannon dropped the gun and slumped to his seat. He closed his eyes and moaned.
Father died for this? Mother died for this, so that I could become the one
man who could stop the bomb?

He had fallen madly in love with a seventeen-year-old woman in the jungle for this?

Tanya's arms slipped around his neck and her hot breath brushed his cheek. She was crying very softly.

“I love you, Shannon. And God loves you desperately.”

He draped his arms over her as she buried her face in his neck.

Then they were crying together, swept back to the pool, lost in each other's embrace, lost in love reborn.

EPILOGUE

One Month Later

TANYA STOOD by the square oak table fidgeting nervously, watching the door through which she assumed they would bring Shannon. It was her first visit to the Canyon City Correctional Facility and she hoped it would be her last.

Helen eased herself into a chair with a sigh. “Not bad for a prison.”

Tanya shifted on her feet. Yes, but it was still a prison.

“Don't worry, dear,” Helen said softly. “From what you've told me, Shannon will have no problem handling himself here. Besides, he's practically a national hero. He stopped the bomb, for goodness' sakes. He won't be in here long.”

“He's not who he used to be,” Tanya said. “I'm not sure what he can handle anymore.”

Tanya had remained by Shannon's side during the indictment and the subsequent grand jury hearing. It was a strange case to be sure. The media had a field day with the CIA agent who was really Jamal, the terrorist, who was really a boy from the jungle who had watched his parents die at the hands of terrorists
and
the CIA. Would the real Shannon Richterson please stand up?

If you asked the man on the street, the real Shannon was the man who saved America from the most horrific terrorist plot ever to be conceived. Driven mad by his parents' deaths, he had become complicit in the plot, true enough. But once he had come to his senses, he had also stopped that very plot. Without him, the plan would have been executed successfully. That's what the man on the street would say. In fact, the whole county was saying it.

But technically, Shannon had assisted terrorists. All of those he himself had killed over the years, he'd killed in the service of the United States. But thirteen people had died on the
Lumber Lord
as a result of the nuclear detonation in which Shannon had participated. They were mostly a criminal lot themselves. But that did not excuse the man most Americans wanted to see set free.

An armed guard walked past the window across the room and Tanya's heart leapt. The man who followed the guard was dressed in orange prison clothes like every other convict in the high-security building. But she hardly saw the bright color; she was looking at Shannon's face. At his hair, at his jaw line— And then Shannon was out of sight again—for a moment. The door swung open and Shannon stepped through it. His green eyes lifted, focused on her, and held steady. He stopped just inside the door, which closed with a hush behind him.

Tanya's heart thumped and for a moment they stared at each other. She wanted to rush up to him and throw her arms around him and smother him with kisses, but somehow the moment seemed too heavy for lighthearted kisses. This was Shannon, the man whom she had been led into the jungle to love. The man she had always loved. The man who was wrapped in muscle and hardened like steel and yet as gentle as a dove.

Her
Shannon.

A sheepish smile nudged his lips, and it occurred to Tanya that he was embarrassed.

“Hi, Shannon,” she said softly.

“Hi, Tanya.” He broke into a wide grin and walked toward them. Yes, the sight of her did that to him, didn't it? It melted him.

She stepped out to meet him. Sorrow swelled through her chest and she knew she was going to cry. He took her into his arms and she buried her head into his shoulder and slipped her arms around his waist.

“It's okay, Tanya. I'm okay.”

Tanya sniffed once and swallowed hard. “I miss you.”

They held each other and Tanya wanted to spend the whole hour just holding him. Behind them, Helen shifted in her chair. Shannon kissed Tanya's hair and they sat across the table from each other.

“Well, young man, you look larger in person than on the tube,” Helen said. “And easily as handsome.”

Shannon blushed through a smile and glanced at Tanya.

“I'm sorry, I should have introduced you. This is Helen.”

Shannon looked at Tanya's grandmother. “So you are Helen. I've heard a lot about you. All good, of course. It's a pleasure meeting you.” He dipped his head.

“And you.” Helen grinned approvingly.

They exchanged some news and talked lightly about prison life. Tanya told Shannon about the latest positive spin on
Larry King Live
that was gathering steam. Shannon joked about the food and talked kindly about the guards. Within ten minutes they began to run out of small talk, and an awkward silence engulfed them.

Looking at the shy, gentle man across from her now, Tanya's heart ached.

“You are still confused, Shannon,” Helen said.

“Grandmother,” Tanya objected, “I'm not sure this is the time.”

Shannon looked at Tanya and then lowered his eyes to the table.

“I can hardly remember who I was,” Shannon said. The room felt charged with electricity.
You don't have to do this, Shannon
.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Actually I feel more lost than confused.” He looked up at Helen, who wore a faint smile. They seemed to look into each other's souls.

“Then tell me what you remember,” Helen said.

Shannon hesitated and looked away.

“I remember what happened. It just seems like a whole different person did those things.” He paused. When he spoke, it was introspectively.

“When my parents were killed by the Brotherhood, something snapped. I went to the cave . . .”

“Sula,” Tanya said after another pause. “The witch doctor's grave.”

“Yes. And I . . . I changed there.”

“What changed?” Helen asked.

“Things went fuzzy. I could hardly remember what Tanya looked like, or what my parents looked like. I became obsessed with death. With killing. Mostly with killing whoever had ruined my life.”

“Abdullah and the CIA,” Tanya said. He'd told her everything already, but hearing him tell Helen, it sounded new. Somehow different.

“Yes. But more than that.” He shook his head and his eyes went moist. “Things got cloudy. I hated everything. When I learned about the CIA's involvement, I just began to hate everything that had anything to do with the CIA.”

“But if you were driven by evil, why would you want to destroy Abdullah, who was also evil?” Tanya asked.

He shrugged. “Evil isn't so discriminating. I went back into the jungle within a year of my parents' death, intent on killing Abdullah. But while I was there, I learned that the CIA had done it as much as Abdullah had. Then I learned about the Brotherhood's plan to take a bomb into the U.S. I decided then to become Jamal and destroy both of them in one blow.”

“Why didn't you just kill them and then expose the CIA?” Tanya asked.

He looked at her. “That wasn't enough. I think I could have blown up the whole world and not thought it was enough.” He swallowed. “You have to understand, I was very . . . I was consumed with this thing.”

“He was possessed,” Helen said.

The simple declaration silenced them.

“But the powers of darkness forgot something,” Helen said. “Or perhaps they've never really understood it. The Creator is the ultimate chess master, isn't he? Why he allows evil to wreak havoc, we can hardly understand. But in the end, it always plays into his hands.” She paused. “As it did this time.”

“It's hard for me to accept,” Shannon said. There was a deep sadness in his eyes, and Tanya reached her hand out to him. “I did so much . . . damage. It feels impossible now.”

“I've been there myself, Shannon,” Helen said. “Believe me, I've been there. Evil is great, but not as great as God's love and forgiveness. You are freed, child. And you are loved.”

Tears pooled in Shannon's eyes and one broke down his right cheek.

Tanya leaned forward and cupped his hand in both of hers. “Listen to me,

“And the love I have for you is only a fraction of the love he has for you.”

His shoulders began to shake and suddenly he was sobbing silently. Tanya looked at Helen in desperation. She smiled, but there were tears in her eyes as well.

Tanya looked back at Shannon, and it struck her then that there was more than sorrow in those tears. There was gratitude and relief and there was love.

She pushed her chair back, stepped around to him, and put her arms around his shoulders. His head rested on her shoulder and he shook like a leaf as he cried. He suddenly reached over and encircled her with his arms.

“I love you, Tanya.”

“I know. I know. And I love you.”

They held each other and wept. But it was most definitely a good cry. The kind that cleansed the soul and bound hearts as one. The kind that healed deep wounds. Tears of love.

At some point Tanya saw that Helen had left them. She could see the older woman standing by a large window, staring out to the blue sky. She was smiling. And if Tanya wasn't mistaken, she was humming. It was an old tune she had heard a hundred times before.

Jesus, Lover of my soul.

In the end it was always about love, wasn't it?