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Back The Occurrence Save as PDF
Chapters (117)
  1. Cover
  2. Title
  3. Copyright
  4. Contents
  5. PART ONE: Up From Buried Light
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. PART TWO: Re-Entry
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. PART THREE: Convergence
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. PART FOUR: Surrender
  50. 42
  51. 43
  52. 44
  53. 45
  54. 46
  55. 47
  56. 48
  57. 49
  58. 50
  59. 51
  60. 52
  61. 53
  62. 54
  63. 55
  64. 56
  65. 57
  66. PART FIVE: The Tablets
  67. 58
  68. 59
  69. 60
  70. 61
  71. 62
  72. 63
  73. 64
  74. 65
  75. PART SIX: The Trial
  76. 66
  77. 67
  78. 68
  79. PART SEVEN: The Cave of Memory
  80. 69
  81. 70
  82. 71
  83. 72
  84. 73
  85. 74
  86. 75
  87. 76
  88. 77
  89. 78
  90. 79
  91. 80
  92. 81
  93. 82
  94. 83
  95. PART EIGHT: Guardians
  96. 84
  97. 85
  98. 86
  99. 87
  100. 88
  101. 89
  102. 90
  103. 91
  104. 92
  105. 93
  106. 94
  107. PART NINE: Into Buried Light
  108. 95
  109. 96
  110. 97
  111. 98
  112. 99
  113. 100
  114. 101
  115. 102
  116. 103
  117. Acknowledgments

He opened a drawer in the table next to him, and pulled out a switchblade.

Nazir stiffened.

Pashtar put a hand on Nazir’s shoulder. His dark eyes, piercing.

“Follow me.”

Pashtar and Nazir waited in the narrow back alley of the club.

A black sedan pulled into the alley.

A Caucasian man in a sharp, dark suit got out of the sedan.

Banging came from the trunk of the car.

Nazir was on high alert.

Pashtar popped open the trunk.

Inside, the young man who’d been dragged from the club was tied and gagged.

Nazir looked at Pashtar.

“You asked for a test. Allah gives to those who ask, and are ready.”

He handed Nazi the switchblade, and pointed to the young man in the trunk.

“Who is he?” Nazir asked.

“Someone who lied.”

The young man’s eyes opened wide. He kicked his feet against the inside of the trunk.

His gagged pleas were cut short when Pashtar grabbed the young man’s throat, and cold-cocked him with his other hand.

“Now, kill him,” Pashtar said.

Hesitation meant death.

Nazir steeled himself, flicked open the switchblade, and slit the young man’s throat.

The three men watched him die.

The man in the suit slammed the lid of the trunk shut, got back into the car, and took off down the alley.

Nazir stood there, bloodied knife in his hand. His heart raced.

Pashtar took the knife.

“You’ll be contacted,” he said and went back into the club.

Pounding bass from the club’s music bled into Nazir’s ears.

After he’d killed Taliq, the FBI undercover agent, Nazir thought he’d shook off the compulsion to kill, but now he realized how deep the bloodlust from his jihadist life had burrowed into him. He’d fooled himself into believing he’d changed.

The stranger he killed may have been an innocent man. But innocent or guilty it placed Nazir back into the world he’d left behind. This test reminded him of what he was still capable. It was a proficiency he knew would keep him alive. A double-edged sword he had to embrace.

In the journey to healing there would be more bloodshed.

86

86

Sunday, October 18

It was late Sunday night in the empty restaurant in a strip mall on the edge of D.C.

Pashtar led Nazir to a thin man with a white beard, wearing a gray suit, and sitting at a table.

The imam’s face was in shadow. And even in shadow, or because of it, Nazir sensed a powerful energy.

He had the charisma of a mystic in a suit. And from experience, Nazir knew that magnetism would turn lethal if he didn’t convince him Hashim had never given himself up. He needed the imam to believe.