Murphy took deep breaths. “What the fuck?”

“What the hell is going on?” Wilson said, able to breathe.

“There’s a source of air that comes in from the fissures here,” Ja’far said, lying to quell their questions. “But let’s not press our luck and stay too long.”

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Murphy said. “There’s more mujahideen on the way. We gotta go now.”

“Not the way you came,” Ja’Far said.

Murphy and Wilson weren’t about to take orders from a stranger.

“We’ll follow Ja’Far,” Julian ordered. “He knows the way out.”

“We won’t be able to breathe once we’re out of this area,” Wilson said.

“Don’t worry,” Ja’Far answered. “I know where all the fissures are.”

“Who is this guy?” Murphy asked.

“He’s the guy who’s going to get us out alive,” Julian answered.

77

77

After traveling all night, Dominique, Julian, and Ja’far arrived in Baghdad. They each were taken to separate debriefs.

These brass were less fueled by suspicion than the debriefs a month earlier after what had happened in the warehouse.

Dominique pleaded for the release of Ja’far in her debriefing. But in spite of her protests that he was on their side and had guided and protected them, the military wasn’t ready or willing to let go of a local who might have information that could prove useful.

“You’re so fucking paranoid it’s made you deaf, dumb, and blind.” Dominique spit out her words. But they had no effect on the unbending brass.

78

78

Julian tasted blood that wasn’t his own. A young girl, who looked much like Jhana-Merise, stared at him. Helpless. Waiting. They were in the desert of another war. Dead bodies around them. A sword his weapon.

A sandstorm approached, and the surface of the desert rose as if responding to an unseen mammoth force beneath. The sky was shut out. Everything faded from his view except the girl who clung to him.

A wall of darkness hurtled toward them.

Julian drew his sword, ready to attack the wind. It hit with the force of a tsunami but he didn’t let go of the girl even as he was battered to his knees.

The sand became a blanket of death and buried them.

Julian was startled out of his sleep.

Rain thrummed on the windows of the local hotel the government had put them up in.

“You all right?” Dominique asked.

Heart pounding, Julian told her about the dream.

“What you experienced was a door to the past,” Dominique said. “A way to help us change the future.”

He touched her face with a tenderness that filled her eyes with tears.

“I remembered something when we were in the catacombs,” he said.

“What?”

The memory made him anxious. He got out of bed and paced the room.