THE DRUID STONE

Dowan knocked rapidly on the door of the apartment one flight above his. “Gundel. Gundel. Please to open the door. We must talk.”

Gundel’s constant two-day unshaven face peeked through the space limited by the attached chain. “Dowan, it is you. Please to enter.”

“I need to use your taxi service another time. Remember the infidel you said made red lights into your taxi to make it stop?”

“The one called Morgan Kane? He is cursed and is a demon.”

“I am afraid to use my car. It might be recognized.” He told of the new calling from Allah via Falatha to maintain observation of Kane and terminate the one called Martha Sorel.

“What is plan to find the Kane person?”

“Both the woman and Kane live in Kane’s apartment. We shall go there and wait. A taxi is a common vehicle on their street.” Dowan explained the consequences of failure and included Gundel as one who might accompany him to Paradise should Kane not be found and Sorel be allowed a continued earthly existence.

Gundel’s taxi was parked outside at the curb a few feet from the staircase of their rowhouse. They didn’t notice the slow moving Ford cruising their street as they walked down the 12 concrete steps.

“Oh my God! It’s him. He’s the one who’s been following me.” Sorel pointed to the two figures descending the rowhouse stairs.

Kane immediately pulled over to the curb. “Martha you stay right here.”

Kane walked on the sidewalk toward the taxi as Gundel entered the driver side and Dowan waited for the passenger door to be unlocked.

Dowan had no cause to look at the stranger moving toward him until Kane was 6-feet away. Recognition came immediately. “It is you!” Dowan reached into his coat and grabbed the butt of his P-38.

The Secret Service black Suburban stopped abruptly in the street and the Secret Agent in the passenger seat threw open his door. “Kane! Watch out! He’s going for his gun!”

Morgan Kane was no longer the New York Times reporter. The Chosen Templar’s eyes and his hands produced brilliant red rays enveloping the taxi and the Secret Service Suburban.

Dowan’s motion was frozen in time.

Kane grabbed Dowan’s chin with his right hand while his left hand maintained a red light cupola dome over the immediate two-car zone. Kane’s eyes changed to a brilliant yellow shooting intense sun-like beams into Dowan’s orbits. The file system of brain cells known as the hippocampus which had recorded Dowan’s 30-years of earthly experience gave up its secrets to the Templar. When he was done, the red light dome dissipated and the yellow beams retreated. A fight-or-flight instinct became Kane’s next priority.

The two Secret Service agents whose cerebral and motor activity had also been frozen in time now came back to life. The passenger agent aimed his Beretta 9 mm at Dowan who now had successfully withdrawn his Walther P 38.

Kane had backed away and ran behind a car parked in front of Gundel’s taxi. Seeing Kane’s familiar face activated Gundel to produce a snub nose .38 revolver which he now pointed at Kane’s head incompletely concealed behind the hood of the car in front of his taxi.

The passenger agent fired two rounds into Dowan’s head causing Dowan’s Walther to reflexively discharge into the pavement. The driver agent opened his door and withdrew his Beretta but Kane new the agent would not get the taxi driver in time. The Chosen Templar reacted immediately and bright red beams crackled from Kane’s eyes and palms on to the scruffy Gundel as he began squeezing his revolver’s trigger. Gundel’s body and his weapon immediately turned a fiery orange-red and in a flash, the terrorists form and gun became black ash.

The two Secret Service men approached Kane with their mouths open.

The Chosen Templar faced both agents and sent sun-bright yellow beams from his eyes and palms into the presidential protectors. Their memory of the Chosen Templar’s actions were immediately erased. Kane’s persona returned as he spoke, “Thanks for the intervention.”

The passenger agent was furious. “We had to kill the terrorist to save you. That makes two terrorists so far today. We needed that man for interrogation.”

Martha Sorel had now appeared. “What are you saying? They were going to kill Morgan. Your job was to protect us and you did.”

The driver agent grabbed Kane’s right shoulder with his left hand. “Kane, you knew where you were going. You knew this man. We’re going to have to debrief you.”

“It’s exactly what I want. But not here. I have to see Secretary of State Tara Corbet.”