"This is insane. Why did you let me do this?" Neil asked no one in particular. His eyes never left the barren, open wastes before him. Every movement of dust in the wind caught his eye and nearly sent him running to the nearest building. He'd never felt so vulnerable before. He hadn't realized how much he'd relied on the barriers being there until now.

In his hands, he held the small communicator he'd smuggled in with him. Its screen was blank, except for the "No Signal" message in the corner. It figured the base was in a dead zone.

Is that a Phantom? Neil almost jumped out of his skin as the wind blew a cloud of dust his way. He calmed himself as he decided the dust truly was just that, and wasn't hiding a Phantom.

Now what was he going to do? He'd spent the last two days in prayer with the other cultists, when he wasn't eating, sleeping, or panicking. He wasn't alone in his fears, at least; many of the cultists were having second thoughts now that they were stuck in the middle of nowhere with no protection from the "Hellspawn."

It meant he was going to have to use the equipment at the base to boost the signal if he wanted to reach the others. He could do it, but Neil doubted he'd be able to get away with it more than once. If he was going to use that technique, he had to make sure he knew what he was talking about when he called the captain.

Which meant it was time for a little sleuthing. Okay, he could handle that. He turned back to the base, stopping every few moments to peer over his shoulder at nothing. He’d be very glad when this was over with!

Back inside, Neil wandered aimlessly among the cultists, who had broken into little groups or sat alone, deep in contemplation. He could sense the nervousness and anticipation, and the second thoughts that many of them were having. It seemed that not all of them were sunk in fanaticism.

And none of them seemed to have any idea what was going to happen. They only knew that Heaven was nearby, somehow located in a barren wasteland and a deserted military base. Some claimed to sense its presence but, try as he might, Neil hadn’t been able to feel anything during his days of prayer and contemplation, except for the cramp in his knees and back, and the boredom of an active mind confined to a less than stimulating environment.

He’d spend more time wondering why the hell he hadn’t listened to Captain Edwards. He’d been showing off again, that’s all there was to it. One would think Neil had learned by now the folly of showing off.

Still, he couldn’t help but wonder if Jane was impressed…

Not, he thought wryly, that I’m doing anything that would impress her. Anyone could sit with this assorted group and feign to be a cultist, since there seemed to be no preference for what kind of person joined up. Marie had confirmed this the one time he’d been able to talk to her alone in the past forty-eight hours.

"We’ve only refused one person," she’d said, her face crinkling in disgust. "Some girl, Jamie or something, who carried a stuffed Cthulhu around with her everywhere. There was just something," Marie shuddered, "wrong about her." Neil had no clue what a Cthulhu was, but it must have been pretty bad, since half the people here had no sanity that Neil could detect. The other half were a sad bunch - the true believers who had lost so much and wanted to fix everything for future generations. They didn’t belong in some crazy cult, in Neil’s opinion. But they seemed to feel there was nothing else they could do to help the world.

Frustrated, Neil collapsed onto the bedroll in the small corner of one of the rooms that he’d staked out for himself. While his home of the past couple of days was safe – amazingly, in such a large group, there seemed to be no thieves – he was wary around the other cultists, and kept mostly to himself. Which meant he was bored out of his mind. All he had were the contents of his bag, most of which were useless. Sighing, Neil replaced the communicator into is concealed pocket and threw himself backwards on his bedroll. If nothing was going to happen today, then he was going to get some sleep. He suspected he was going to need it.

Because tonight he was going to go exploring and see what Heaven’s Reach was really up to. Tonight, he’d make that call to Captain Edwards.

With any luck, he’d be back home this time tomorrow.

Ryan watched as Jane neatly shredded yet another napkin. She could feel his eyes on her, but she ignored him, concentrating on ripping the napkin into equal lengths and widths.

It kept her busy. It kept her mind off the boredom of sitting around, waiting for certain corporals to contact them. It kept her from being… worried about Neil.

"Dammit," she hissed, as the napkin tore unevenly in her hand. She crumpled the offending cloth and grabbed another off Ryan’s plate.

Ryan’s large hand cupped hers, stopping her before she could mutilate another hapless victim. Thwarted, she scowled at the sergeant. "Now, now, what did that napkin ever do to you?" The reasonable tone of his voice calmed her, and she released the napkin.

"You’re very tense tonight," Ryan observed. "What’s gotten into you?"

"Boredom," she hissed. "It’s been more than two days since…" she trailed off, reluctant to voice her real concern.

"Since Corporal Fleming called," Ryan supplied. "He’s probably just busy." His eyes crinkled in amusement. "Maybe they made a real convert out of him."

Jane snorted, momentarily entertaining the thought of Neil wearing a long robe, head shaven and preaching to adoring masses. "Or maybe they killed him," she said flatly.

"The cult has shown no inclination towards violence so far," Ryan pointed out.

"You don’t know Neil. He could bring out a nun’s violent urges." Her face hardened. "I just don’t want anyone to kill him before I get that pleasure."

Ryan raised his eyebrows. "What did he ever do to you?" he asked.

He made me weak… Jane kept silent, and Ryan gave up. "He should never have gone," she seethed, after an uncomfortable silence. "He should have listened… He never does…"

"What would you have done?" Ryan asked her.

"I would have obeyed – " she began, then hesitated. "I… I would have done what was right," she finished softly.

"Even if it went against orders?"

Jane licked her lips as she considered. Ryan was right, she would have gone rather than lost Gibson. "Yes," she said shortly. She hoped the sergeant wasn’t planning to report her words to the captain; they bordered on insubordination. "But the captain would have let me go! He knows I could have handled it. Neil… Neil’s never done this sort of thing before, that I know of. He’ll break under pressure. He has before." That last was as near to a confession as she dared get.

"Maybe he’s changed," Ryan suggested.

Jane hoped he was right. If she was denied the privilege of snapping his neck, she’d be pissed. But she wasn’t concerned for his welfare. Not at all.

The door lock yielded under Neil’s skilled fingers, and he froze as it clicked before the heavy steel door swung open on well-oiled hinges. But his alert senses, strained to the utmost, picked up no sign that there were others around at this late hour besides himself.

He grinned slightly, relieved that there was no one behind the door. One less thing to worry about! A lesser man would have broken under the pressure, he thought smugly.

He silently stole into the corridor, dark but for a distant fluorescent light somewhere ahead of him. The corridor was well-maintained, Neil observed as he made his way along it. Doors lined the hall, but all were locked, and something about their state suggested they hadn’t been used for sometime, so they couldn’t hide what Neil sought. But this corridor was used frequently. What are they hiding?

He could see a dim light ahead, different from the bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. It was shifting, roiling… strange. Neil slowed when he saw it, something about the unearthly glow sending chills down his spine. Cautiously, all senses alert, Neil crept forward.

The corridor ended in what must have been the exercise area for the troops once stationed at the base. It was larger than a standard gymnasium, with a high ceiling. Or at least, it had once had a high ceiling. Most of it had been blasted away, the remaining bent girders dimly illuminated by the unearthly light were shown to be bent inwards, as if by a massive blast from above.

This, then, was the Zeus Cannon’s target. After a quick scan of the room, Neil stepped forward a few feet, past a row of open packing crates that must have carried the new metal railing that ringed a massive pit in the floor. The diffuse blue light seemed to come from the pit’s depths.

How deep is it? Neil wondered, feeling a wave of vertigo as he followed the railing to a metal ramp that extended partly over the lip of the chasm. The sound of his boots on metal carried far, so the room must have excellent acoustics, Neil observed as he stepped onto the ramp, eyes focused downward as he tried to make out what lay within the abyss below.

All he could make out was a churning mass of blue light, wreathed in mist and constantly in motion. Neil leaned forward, fascinated. There was a feeling of peace and tranquility emanating from it, and he wanted to join it, to be as one with it and escape the horrors of the world. Neil leaned closer, ready to jump into its serene embrace…

…when he smacked his forehead on the guard rail. With a yelp that reverberated around the room, Neil began to scramble away before he could be caught in the light’s hypnotic trance again.

What is it? Neil wondered as he backed against the wall, the shimmering splendor now hidden from sight. Is that… Heaven? All of Gibson’s preachings came back to him in a rush. Heaven has fallen, but we can restore it. Could he really have found Heaven? Can they really save it? Would that end the war with the Phantoms?

Neil struggled to think rationally, but it was difficult. He could still feel the light’s promise of peace, and it was a temptation almost too great to ignore.

He was saved again by another interruption, this time in the form of another steel door, set off to the side, opening and two people entered the chamber. Neil ducked behind the row of discarded crates, peeking through the gaps to examine the people and see if they were heading his way.

One of them was Alan Gibson, which didn’t surprise Neil. The other was a middle-aged woman whom Neil hadn’t seen in person, but recognized as the scientist who’d been with Gibson aboard the Zeus, Dr. Joanne Powell.

So this is where she’s been hiding. Intrigued, Neil listened to their conversation, made easy by the room’s strange acoustics.

"Nervous, Joanne?" Gibson was saying, as thought continuing a conversation that was already in progress.

"I don’t see why you can’t do this tomorrow," the scientist answered.

"My flock must be ready," Gibson said calmly.

"The Phantoms are getting closer," Powell pointed out. "You may not have any time beyond tomorrow."

Neil’s blood ran cold. Phantoms?

"The demons will not reach here before I’m prepared." Gibson’s footsteps rang out as he walked along the ramp, reaching the edge and peering down. Neil shifted to another gap to keep sight of him. "You know that. They travel slowly, and are cautious because of the Zeus’s devastation. But you’re only worried for yourself, aren’t you, Joanne?" Neil wondered if the scientist heard the dangerous note in the cultist’s voice.

"Please… just call a transport and let me leave with the data before the Phantoms attack. I gave you access to Gaia, and I’ve stolen all the data I need to earn the scientific respect I deserve. You don’t need me any more!"

"We made a deal." Gibson’s voice was mild, but even from this distance, Neil could hear the deadly undertone. "Besides, I thought you wanted to see the effect of the souls on Heaven."

Now there was an edge to Powell’s voice. "I do, yes… but not at the cost of my life. It’s valuable data, but I can likely retrieve it another way."

"It sounds like you’re having second thoughts."

Powell’s voice was a murmur, and Neil barely caught it. "You’re right. I don’t want to be here when they die."

"Yet, if I let you go now, you could still warn someone, and earth’s salvation could be ruined by a misguided rescue attempt." Gibson moved closer to Powell.

"I wouldn’t – " she began.

"You’re right, Joanne. I don’t need you here." Neil was as startled as Powell by Gibson’s change of heart. Neil watched as Gibson placed a reassuring hand on the scientist’s shoulder. "But I’d be a poor partner if I didn’t fulfill the rest of my side of the bargain. You shall see the interaction of souls with Heaven."

Gibson moved before Powell could react, and Neil could only stare, dumbstruck, as the man shoved Powell over the railing. Her scream carried clearly to Neil, the echoes preserving the terrified sound long after the woman ceased to exist.

"May this be the first of many souls to restore you to greatness," Gibson intoned reverently.

He left the way he’d come, and Neil was left shivering behind the crates, alone with a dead woman’s screams.

The com device’s insistent bleeping awoke Gray from his slumber. His combat-trained senses were instantly at full alert as he picked up the portable device and activated it. Fleming… finally! he thought with relief as the tech’s face was reproduced on the small holo-screen. The man’s lack of communication had worried him. Gray hit the button to record the message before saying, "What’s going on, Corporal?"

Neil’s voice was a murmur as he said, "I’m sorry it took me so long; I’m in a dead zone and I had to hack into the base’s computer. But I have news for you!"

Gray stayed silent as Neil blurted out what he’d learned. "I’m at ground zero of where the Zeus fired." There was a nervous edge to his voice as he quickly glanced around. "Sir… there’s no barrier! And there are Phantoms coming!"

Gray’s eyes widened. He opened his mouth to question the tech, but Neil was continuing. "But that’s all right, since we won’t be here to see them, anyway." His words were rapid and slightly shrill, as if Neil was fighting back hysteria. "Gibson’s insane; he killed Dr. Powell! And some time in the next few days he’s going to sacri – "

The image of Neil abruptly vanished in static.

Gray swore as his fingers manipulated the holographic icons, struggling to regain contact with the corporal. He had no luck, which meant the connection had been severed from the other end.

They’d caught him. I should never have let him go… I should have sent someone with him… Gray brushed aside his guilty thoughts. They had Neil’s location. Once Gray raised the alert, the military could be there in a matter of hours.

If that wasn’t too late. Neil had said Phantoms were advancing o the base… and his last word had sounded like "sacrifice."

Gray checked the time, and winced. It was late, which meant it was very late, or very early, in New York. General Worthington wouldn’t be thrilled at being woken. But Gray had no choice; Neil was in danger, and as long as the tech was under his command, there was no way Gray could leave him alone in a situation like this.

Neil hadn’t realized how frightened he was until his voice cracked while he spoke to the captain. He was no hero to bravely face death without fear, but he was no coward.

But there was something going on that he didn’t understand, and fear of the unknown could be quite powerful. And he was alone, surrounded by innocents blinded by belief whose faith could compel them to act irrationally. Without a weapon, he had no way to defend himself.

And if the captain didn’t hurry, he’d see Heaven, or whatever it was, up close and personal very soon. It… it couldn’t truly be Heaven, could it? That was what shook him the most.

"Gibson’s insane; he killed Dr. Powell!" Neil imagined he could still hear the woman’s screams even now. "And some time in the next few days, he’s going to sacri-"

A hand raked through the image of the captain, the fingers snagging the icons and losing the image in a burst of static. Another hand clamped tightly on Neil’s shoulder.

"I’d wondered who the military spy was," Alan Gibson’s voice said calmly. Neil stiffened in the man’s grip.

"I don’t know what you mean," Neil protested weakly.

"You didn’t think I’d be too stupid not to expect the USMF’s attention after firing their little toy, did you?" Gibson’s face was in shadow, but Neil could see the deadly gleam in the fanatic’s eye.

Neil couldn’t think of an answer that wouldn’t set the man off, so he just gulped and remained silent. Gibson pried the communicator from Neil’s fingers and crushed it.

"I presume," Gibson continued, "that since you knew about Dr. Powell’s death, you were there when it happened."

Still, Neil didn’t respond. Now I know he’s not going to let me survive this. I know too much!

"You got a glimpse of Heaven itself," Gibson said reverently. "If the military comes and puts a stop to this, then Heaven will continue to weaken and eventually die, and the demons will completely overrun the planet. Do you want that?"

"No," Neil was forced to admit. "But sacrificing the cultists won’t help matters!"

"Who said anything about sacrifice?" Gibson asked, sounding honestly shocked. "There’s no sacrifice involved; not in the sense you mean, anyway. These people are offering their souls to Heaven in order to strengthen it so it can fight back against the Hellspawn."

"They won’t be offering when they hear what you plan," Neil said, but he was uncertain.

"Won’t they? How close did you get to Heaven? Didn’t you feel it welcoming you? Didn’t you want to be one with it?"

Neil started to protest, then remembered the feeling that had almost compelled him to jump over the rail to the light below.

The cultists wouldn’t have a chance.

Gibson took his silence as an affirmative. "They’ll all be willing, eager, even, to give their lives for the cause."

"I thought murder was a sin," Neil said bitterly.

"But willing sacrifice isn’t," Gibson countered. "To give one’s life for the good of others is a noble cause. Isn’t that what you do as a soldier?"

Neil hesitated as Gibson’s words sank in. "It’s not the same," he said lamely.

"I was a soldier once, too," Gibson reminded him. "The only difference is that this is a sacrifice that will save the planet from the demons." Gibson’s grip tightened on Neil’s arm, and he began to lead the tech away. "You’ll soon see," the cultist continued.

Neil swallowed. "What are you going to do with me?" he asked softly.

"You’ll be offered to Heaven," Gibson said calmly. "Your only sin is ignorance; you’ll be welcomed."

"That’s murder," Neil stated.

"So is what I did to Dr. Powell."

Neil’s blood was chilled by Gibson’s words. "I thought you said –"

"I never said I wouldn’t kill anybody to keep Heaven safe. If it means a few stains on my soul, then so be it."

So much for appealing to Gibson’s morals. "But the military is coming. They’ll put a stop to this. And what do you think they’ll do to Heaven when they find it?"

"They won’t. In about three hours, the cultists will give their lives. Sooner than I’d like, thanks to you, but the effect will be the same. And the USMF won’t find it. I’m going to bomb the entrance closed, so Heaven can heal in peace."

Shit… I have to get out of here! I have to warn the cultists… If they’ll even listen… Neil moved as fast as he could, breaking Gibson’s grip and attacking the man before he knew what was happening.

Or so he’d thought. The cultists must have been waiting for such an attempt; he dodged Neil’s fists and lashed out with one foot, catching Neil in the leg. A wet snapping sound echoed in the corridor, and Neil went down with a cry as his broken leg gave out under him.

"Now look what you made me do," Gibson said, his face unsympathetic. "But don’t worry; Heaven doesn’t care if you’re whole in body."

Neil could only whimper in response.

I shouldn’t do this… Jane adjusted her armor, giving the fastenings one last check. I’ll get into so much trouble… She picked up her Nocturne, noting the weapon was at full charge. Stupid Neil… making me come to rescue him again…

When the captain had replayed the message for them, Jane had thought Neil was overreacting. Until he mentioned Phantoms. And sacrifice… Captain Edwards had reported Neil’s message to General Worthington as soon as the man could be awakened, and the USMF soldiers in Seattle were now "awaiting orders." In other words, there was a conflict of military rank between Worthington and Seattle’s general, and it would take some time before the troops would be sent out.

Too late for Neil, Jane knew with a dread certainty.

So she’d snuck out of their hotel to the USMF barracks where they’d stored their gear. Someone had to help Neil before it was too late.

But why me? Why am I always the one saving that idiot? Why do I care? She thought she’d left those feelings behind when she’d left the Houston Military Academy. I don’t still love him, she told herself firmly. But I… I can’t let him die like this…

She was risking her career for him. She was risking her life; she knew that she could do little on her own to save him. Just a simple snatch and run, is all. In Phantom infested territory.Alone. Against orders. And I’ll be leaving all the other cultists to their fate… That gnawed at Jane, but she knew there was nothing she could do. Perhaps she could just cause enough of a distraction to keep the cultists safe until the USMF got moving and came to the rescue. That would be worth a court martial, wouldn’t it? Damn you, Neil, why do you always leave me in these situations?

"Corporal Proudfoot? What do you think you’re doing?" Jane’s heart sank as she heard the captain’s familiar voice. She turned slowly to see him behind her, with Ryan at his back.

Jane stiffened. "I – " she began.

"You were going to sneak out, weren’t you?" the captain asked, though his tone implied he already knew the answer. "You were going to go after Corporal Fleming on your own."

"We can’t just leave him like that!" she snapped defensively. "As long as he’s part of our squad, he’s under out protection! Who knows when the soldiers will finally get moving, and they may be too late."

Gray’s lips thinned. "I expected better of you than to take off on your own," he said, and she winced at the disappointment in his voice. "Perhaps you aren’t as good as the general said." Jane bristled, but she knew she deserved it. Under no circumstances was a soldier to leave without orders on such a dangerous exploit. But… how could the captain just calmly wait while a soldier placed in his care was in danger? She’d only worked with Gray for a month, but she had thought well of him. Had she been wrong?

"At the HMA, they taught us to watch each other’s backs, and to leave no one behind if it’s possible to save them." Jane remembered the lesson well. No one gets left behind…

"I’m very disappointed, Corporal," the captain continued, seemingly oblivious to her words. "I can’t believe you’d think I’d let a squad member die like this."

"Sir?" Jane’s head snapped up, and she met Gray’s eyes.

"I volunteered to head a scouting party to Neil’s location. The rest of the soldiers should be mobilized in a little over an hour. We should be able to disrupt whatever the cult is planning, and perhaps even rescue Corporal Fleming ourselves." His gaze hardened. "Can I trust you to come with us and obey my orders, or do I need to place you under arrest?"

"Do what you think is best, sir," Jane said.

Gray’s face softened. "Good. I’m glad you’re concerned with the welfare of a teammate. Just don’t let it affect your judgment next time. And… trust me. I learned the same lessons you did. I won’t leave anyone behind."

Jane sighed with relief. She was off the hook, for now, anyway. She had a feeling she’d be on probation for some time, but she’d work hard to prove herself to the captain. And she wouldn’t let Neil down. It would be too hard to hate him if he died.

The pain was intense, but there was nothing Neil could do about it except keep still. He didn’t have anything to make a splint, and there was nothing he could do about the pain except bear it, like a good soldier. In a couple hours, it wouldn’t matter, anyway.

Don’t be such a pessimist! he chided himself angrily. Captain Edwards knew where he was. They’d had the coordinates of the Zeus’s shot when he left, so finding him wouldn’t be the hard part.

No. It would be finding him in time that worried Neil. Even if the military arrived before the Phantoms, even if they came before Gibson had the chance to sacrifice the cultists, there was still the matter of the bombs. Gibson seemed like the type to detonate them rather than let the USMF find his Heaven.

And, Neil was forced to admit, he agreed. If that blue light truly was Heaven, no one had the right to experiment with it. And it was possible more people like Gibson would appear because of it if they knew of its existence.

Which was why Neil didn’t expect to escape with his life. He wondered which fate would claim him first. He’d seen enough Phantom-related deaths to know it wasn’t painless. And the word "sacrifice" painted some rather grisly images, though he didn’t know what really lay at the bottom of the pit. Maybe it would be peaceful, painless… or perhaps it would be eternal torture.

That left the bomb. Or rather, bombs. Neil knew one alone wouldn’t be powerful enough to seal the hole, but several of them strategically placed could.

Neil gave a disgusted shake of his head. He didn’t want to think about death in his final hours! It was difficult to keep his mind off the subject, admittedly, especially since he was being kept prisoner in a shaft that held one of Gibson’s bombs. He could see it lodged in a crevasse slightly above him, its lights flickering ominously. He considered sabotaging it, but he had no clue how to disarm a bomb. And he had no desire to hurry his death along by accidentally detonating it.

But what else could he do? Running away wasn’t an option, even if he could escape. Neil could feel the bone protruding beneath his kneecap. He was shocked it hadn’t broken the skin.

It hurt… He’d never really felt physical pain like this before…

Ugh. He needed to get his mind off the pain as well as his imminent death. Once again, his eyes were drawn to the bomb.

He couldn’t disarm it. He knew that. But could he do something else? Painfully, using the rough stone walls as support, Neil pulled himself to his feet, biting his lip to keep from crying out. Hobbling awkwardly, he made it to the bomb and peered at it.

His searching eyes found the detonator. The small screen set above a number pad displayed the bomb’s readiness. It was set to blow, then, waiting only for the final command. It would detonate ten minutes after the command was given, probably so Gibson would have time to get back and throw himself into Heaven. Without the deactivation codes, he couldn’t disarm it that way, either. Tentatively, he tapped the keypad to bring up the display for its link to the other bombs, then smiled at what he saw. A vague plan formed, dangerous but possibly the only way to save his life and the cultists as well…

When they came for him, he was huddled miserably in his former position. Two large cultists gently took Neil by the arms and half-carried him between them. Their care surprised him; the military would never treat a prisoner so well.

He heard the cultists before he saw them; a roaring sea of voices, raised in prayer. They jammed the tunnels, since not all could fit in the room that contained the abyss with its light, and Neil had a moment of hope that they’d be unable to get through. But they parted without protest as Neil was led towards the deep chasm and what it contained. He mentally steeled himself against it, and was pleased when he no longer found its call so seductive.

Gibson stood before the ramp, with a white-faced Marie and the other priests and priestesses arrayed around him. The cultists, those who could cram themselves inside, pressed against the railing eagerly. Heaven, or whatever it was, was doing its work on their minds. Gibson was right; these people were like lambs for the slaughter.

This was going to be difficult. But Neil didn’t need to get through to all of them… and he figured human nature would do the rest. Assuming he could get his plan to work. Assuming he’d gotten the timing right. Assuming anyone even listened to him. There was far too much that could go wrong.

As Neil was taken closer, Gibson flashed him a benevolent smile. "This sheep, who has strayed from our flock, will be the first to experience the glory of Heaven and seeks its forgiveness." Neil wondered why no one thought it was odd that Gibson would let a supposed transgressor have the first "honor" of being sacrificed. Was Gibson’s hold really that tight over them? But he does have to get rid of me first… I’m inconvenient. He placidly hobbled forward between his captors, giving them no excuse to be rough with him.

"Come forward," Gibson said, and Neil’s escorts brought him closer to the edge of the ramp than he’d have liked. "Soon, you will know Paradise."

Sighs of longing echoed around the room, amplifying and assaulting his ears. This is it… "Father, may I make a confession?" he asked in a rush, before Gibson could move to silence him.

Gibson started, then smiled. "Of course, if that is what you wish. What is it you would like to confess?"

Neil took a deep breath and said loudly, "I set a bomb."

The words carried clearly, cutting through the respectful silence of the cultists. Soft murmurs echoed back to him, and he knew the words were spreading to those too far to hear.

"Impossible," Gibson hissed, but Neil could see the man’s alarm. Blowing them all to pieces would ruin his plans. Neil had received the impression that they all had to die within Heaven for it to work, or the so-called Hellspawn would claim their souls first.

"No. I used the bomb’s transmitter to set the other bombs to blow in a sequence, since someone had conveniently already punched in the arming codes. The first one should blow in about…" Neil consulted his watch, "five minutes."

"You’d kill us all?" Gibson was incredulous. "Murderer!" he cried.

It was becoming harder to be heard of the raised voices of the crowd, but Neil raised his voice to a shout as he said, "Just like you murdered Dr. Powell!"

The crowd’s confusion and fear carried clearly to Neil. As he’d thought, his declaration was turning a group of rational – well, almost – human beings into a herd of panicky, unthinking creatures. He needed only to frighten a few enough to run, and the whole crowd would mindlessly follow in a blind panic, hopefully running away from the source of their fear.

"No!" It was Marie’s voice that came to Neil, and the woman came forward, her eyes wide. "Father Gibson, tell me you didn’t kill her."

"Marie," Gibson said soothingly, "Dr. Powell wanted to help save the planet-"

"You did! You killed her!" Marie cried, her eyes filling with tears.

Neil blinked, wondering what the hell was going on, and a little jealous Marie had stolen the show. Well, at least it was distracting his captors, who had loosened their grips as they watched the unfolding drama. Not that he could escape on his bad leg, though.

"How could you?" Marie whispered, pushing past Neil.

Two things happened at once: Marie suddenly lunged at the startled Gibson, pushing him back onto the ramp. And the first of the bombs detonated.

As Neil had suspected, the first bomb alone wasn’t powerful enough to bring the whole base down; but there were screams as a section of rail and floor gave way and a number of cultists were thrown into the pit. Neil himself screamed as he fell onto his bad leg, and his guards were thrown to either side of him.

Fifteen minutes until the second one blows… The crowd began to stampede away from the danger, all thoughts of noble sacrifice forgotten with their flight instincts triggered. Except for a few… Out of the corner of his eye, Neil saw a few of the cultists actually jump into the abyss.

This isn’t the best way I could have handled this, he thought through a haze of pain, but what else could I have done? At least… at least we can still catch Gibson and save most of the cultists… if help gets here in time…

Where was Gibson, anyway? Using the railing to climb to his feet, unaware of the fact that the bone had now torn its way through his flesh, Neil searched for the cult leader. He saw Marie first, kneeling at the edge of the ramp and staring down. Then he saw Gibson’s hands, knuckles white as the man clung to the metal. Marie’s lunge had pushed him to the ramp’s edge, and the bomb’s blast had thrown him off. Neil hoped Marie had the strength to pull Gibson up, because Neil didn’t think he’d have the leverage he needed to do it with his bad leg.

"The next bomb’s going off soon," Neil called to her. "Help him up and let’s go."

Marie’s shoulders were stiff with rage. "No," she said, her voice choked with tears. "She wasn’t supposed to die; we were going to leave together!"

"Let me fall," Gibson pleaded, and Neil saw Marie had a firm grip around one of his hands. She wasn’t going to let him go.

"You don’t deserve Heaven," Marie hissed. With a mighty heave, she pulled, and Neil was surprised to see Gibson trying to help her lift him free.

"You’re right." Gibson’s voice was a whisper. "I don’t deserve it."

"How long until the next bomb goes off?" Marie asked.

Neil checked his watch. "Ten minutes."

"And what’s waiting for us outside the base?" she demanded.

"Nothing," Neil admitted, fervently hoping that Captain Edwards had sent help, that the Phantoms hadn’t arrived yet, that this was all just a bad dream and he’d wake up…

Marie supported Neil as they hurried down the corridors, Gibson ahead of them where they could watch him. His shoulders were slumped, and he was muttering under his breath. Neil thought he recognized it as a confession.

They met few people on the way out. Neil wondered if they realized there would be nothing outside waiting for them.

Except, perhaps, death.

Jane ignored the concerned gazes of her teammates as she silently stared straight ahead, her posture stiff. Only the nervous movements of the fingers that cradled her helmet betrayed her anxiety.

She couldn’t believe she was this worried for Neil. She’d thought those emotions had died long ago, or were buried so deeply they’d never surface. Though she would never find herself in his arms again, or receive his tender caresses, or taste his lips again, she still cared for him.

Perhaps, if they survived this, they could be friends? Jane hadn’t realized how much she’d missed that quick grin, that deceptively easy-going manner, or his sharp wit. If he died she’d fell so… empty.

Perhaps it was because she’d so recently lost Jack and her emotions were still raw. Or maybe, just maybe, it was because her hatred of Neil had been a mask for what she really felt. He couldn’t die thinking she still hated him!

"How long?" Jane asked tensely, breaking the silence.

"About twenty minutes," the captain answered, after a quick consultation with their pilot.

Too long. Jane chafed at her inability to do anything, but she had to admit, she was better off having waited for the rest of her squad. She was ashamed to realize she’d never even considered just how to get to Neil on her own, since her own piloting skills were limited.

"Pilot says they sent out more soldiers and transports for the cultists," the captain added after a moment. "They’re about twenty minutes behind us."

Jane sighed with relief, then tensed when she saw the look on the captain’s face as he continued to listen through his link to the cockpit. "What is it, sir?"

In answer, Gray activated the holo-board that showed the terrain below them. Hooked to the scanner, it was able to display luminescent icons where the Phantoms were gathered. There were a lot of icons.

"They’re moving towards Corporal Fleming’s location," the captain said grimly.

It was still dark outside when Neil, Marie, and Gibson emerged, but the near-full moon threw enough light for them to see by. I’ve never seen the sky so clearly, Neil couldn’t help but think. Always, the sky had been hiding by an active barrier, or filtered through the windows of a ship. To be out under the stars, to see everything bathed in natural light… this was Heavenly.

Neil snapped out of his rapture when Marie came to a halt, and he crashed into her with a cry. The adrenaline rush was wearing off, and he was starting to really feel his broken leg.

The cultists were scattered around them, moving uneasily. Away from the threat of bombs, they had a new worry. Out of the frying pan, into the fire…

"How far is the safety zone?" Neil asked Gibson. He had no clue how widely the bombs were set.

"About half a mile," the man said dully.

"We only have three minutes before the next one goes off," Neil said through gritted teeth. "We’ll never get far enough away." Why didn’t I put more time between the detonations? he mentally cursed himself. Too late to worry about that.

"Especially not on that leg," Marie said. "Did you know you’re bleeding?"

He hadn’t; she yanked off the belt from her robe to prepare a tourniquet. "There’s no time for that," Neil protested.

"No time to run, either. We’ll just have to brace ourselves and pray this section doesn’t cave." Marie carefully tied the belt around his leg. Odd, Neil thought. There’s something different about her. Why did Dr. Powell’s death affect her so?

Despite their warning and their efforts to keep steady, the second detonation sent Neil tumbling, and he heard screams from the cultists. The side of his head was now pressed to the ground, and Neil could hear the rumbling as the ground broke up beneath him. A massive split tore the ground near his head, but fortunately, the worst damage seemed to be to the base itself, which sagged inward. I hope no one was left in there, he thought.

"We need to get out of here," Marie said, tugging Neil to his feet. "We have to gather the others… There must be somewhere we can go –"

With a scream of metal, the base began to fold inward. The cultists all watched, dumbstruck, as their home of the past few days was drawn into the abyss.

"Obviously not back there," Neil joked weakly.

"Is there anywhere nearby?" Marie asked stonily, her eyes on Gibson. The cult leader was still seated, arms around his knees.

"No. But it isn’t too late," he added quietly. "There’s still a way in to Heaven – "

"Shut up," Marie said angrily. She left Neil desperately trying to keep his balance as she yanked Gibson to his feet. "Call the others to you, if they’ll listen. We’re getting out of here together."

Or not at all, Neil thought.

Gibson sighed but raised his voice, calling to the others, appealing to them to come together in this time of crisis. Most of those closest to him listened, and others followed in the hope that their leader had some plan to save them all.

"We’ll only just meet our deaths together," Gibson said softly. "Can you hear the Hellspawn? They’re coming."

Neil stiffened. He’d been so worried about the others and the next detonation, the third of six, that he hadn’t been listening for the deadliest threat. But now that he was keeping his ears open, he could hear them over the frightened noises of the crowd.

The Phantoms had arrived.

"I thought they weren’t supposed to get here for another couple of days," Neil said. "Don’t you just love how they don’t act how they’re supposed to?" He had trouble hiding the quaver in his voice. Facing the Phantoms armed and armored, with plenty of backup, was one thing. But he was injured, vulnerable, surrounded by a bunch of panicky citizens… This was the nightmare situation everyone feared.

The first screams began five minutes before the next explosion. Two minutes later, Neil heard another sound: The whine of an engine, somewhere overhead.

"Someone’s coming!" a voice screamed, and Neil felt like screaming with joy himself. Help was on the way.

But there was only one craft, a Copperhead. Only a few troops. And no way for all the cultists to escape.

A minute before detonation, three shapes tumbled from the ship, landing in a filmy green gel that rapidly dissipated. Immediately, they brought up their Nocturnes and began to fire at the unseen Phantoms.

"The pilot’s dropping buoys! Help will be here in twenty minutes! Stay together!" a male voice said, amplified by his helmet speaker. Captain Edwards. Neil directed Marie to take him over to the captain.

"Captain!" Neil cried. "We have to move! There are bombs!"

"Bombs?" the captain repeated.

As if to punctuate Neil’s warning, the next one went off. The Deep Eyes managed to hold their ground, but the earth around them shook, and Neil thought he felt something beneath him give. The cultists surged blindly forward as chunks of the ground broke and fell into newly forming crevices, and only the fact that most of the Phantoms were being drawn by the energy buoys kept their panic from being a massacre.

Neil staggered again, this time falling against someone in armor. He saw the wings on the chestplate and smiled. "Hey, Jane," he said.

"Why the hell did they set bombs?" Jane asked as she fought to keep her balance on the uneven ground.

"That was me, actually," Neil admitted, embarrassed. "I was trying to save lives."

"I can’t wait to hear the explanation for this," the captain said, as his gaze swept the terrain. The buoys, with their powerful concentration of spiritual energy, were more desirable to the Phantoms than a crowd of humans, or so the theory went. That hadn’t distracted them from decimating cities.

"The next one goes off in fifteen minutes," Neil said. "There are three more left, possibly with a half mile radius."

"Then we have to move," the captain said. "Ryan!" he called into his com, "Get them moving away from the base!" The sergeant was on the far side of the crowd, trying to give them protection. At his order, the cultists began to move.

"Sir… my leg…" Neil said helplessly.

At the captain’s urging, two cultists stepped forward to help. Neil looked for Marie, and spotted her with Gibson. She was making damned sure he didn’t escape.

The next thirteen minutes were the most terrifying Neil had ever experienced. Any moment, he knew, the unstable ground could give way under his feet, or the Phantoms could lose interest in the buoys. He could see them now, stained orange by the energies. He hadn’t realized there were Metas nearby.

"They’re here!" he heard the captain cry out suddenly from behind him, and he looked up to see a convoy of ships coming to a landing ahead of them. Two minutes; they had to hurry, since they were still too close to the bombs for comfort. "Corporal, I want you in the Copperhead with us," the captain said. "Did you get Gibson?"

"He’s back there," Neil said, gesturing with a nod of his head.

"Good; he’s coming with us." Neil saw Jane come up to Gibson and take his arm from Marie. The priestess stubbornly followed them towards the Copperhead.

"Phantoms are coming," Neil heard Ryan say over the captain’s link. Neil spared a look back, seeing several of the aliens pull away from the buoys to resume the hunt. It wouldn’t be long before the rest followed.

The cultists rushed forward, and the soldiers who had arrived with the transports quickly but expertly divided them into groups and herded them onboard. Neil and his escorts went up the Copperhead’s ramp, followed by Ryan and Captain Edwards. Jane came next, followed by Gibson and Marie.

The Copperhead’s engines whined as it began lifting off before they were fully on board. But it didn’t leave the ground fast enough; the next explosion was close, rocking the ship. Jane lost her grip on Gibson as she fought to keep her footing, and Marie nearly tumbled off. The priestess grabbed one of the struts with one hand. Her other hung by the cult leader, who held the edge in a death grip. Jane tried to move towards them to grab them and pull them in. The hatch couldn’t close with them obstructing it.

Just then, a long, glittering tentacle reached through the hatch, and Jane jerked backwards. It missed Marie, but brushed Gibson.

"No!" the cultist screamed. It hadn’t killed him, but Neil had no idea if they’d get him back in time to save his life.

"Yes," he heard Marie say emotionlessly. "This is what you deserve. Not life in prison. Not an eternity in Heaven." She smashed her free hand on his, breaking his tenuous grip. "Go to Hell, Alan." The cultist fell backward. Marie swung her free hand to Jane, who pulled her inside, and the hatch closed as they lifted from the Phantom’s reach.

Marie sat beside Neil and buried her face in her hands. Jane sat a little ways away, watching. "Marie? Why did you do it? We had enough on him to lock him away for good."

Marie looked at him with tear-stained eyes. "Dr. Powell was my mother," she said simply. "I was in this so I could be with her."

Neil could think of nothing to say to that. Indeed, he didn’t feel like saying anything right then, because everything just hurt too much.

Jane hesitated outside the hospital room, mentally bracing herself. Taking a deep breath, she stepped inside. Neil was awake, looking rather cheerful despite the cast that encased his leg. He smiled when he saw her.

"Come to gloat over how you had to save me again?" he asked, though his tone was good-natured. "What is it now, five times?"

"Shut up," she told him. "This is hard enough without you talking." To her relief, he obeyed. "I wanted to apologize," she said in a rush. "If I hadn’t pushed you, you might not have been in this situation."

"No, if you hadn’t pushed me, I’d still be in this situation; it just would have taken me longer to make up my mind."

"I told you to shut up. I just wanted to say, I don’t hate you."

Neil was silent, and she waited for him to say something. Anything. Just as long as he didn’t get the wrong idea… "Then why did you act the way you did?" he asked finally. "I’ve never seen you so cruel. Hard, yes, but this was bad even for you."

"I lost someone important to me recently," she said. "Then you came along, and it was like you were here to take his place." She held up his hand to stop him. "I know that wasn’t your intent. It’s just… well…" She couldn’t go on. "I don’t want to be your enemy. Do you think we can start again? As friends?"

Neil stared. "Um… sure," he said, sounding baffled. "But Jane, you don’t have to do that. You don’t have to see me again after this. I’ll stay out of your life. I promise."

Now Jane smiled. She was glad the captain had let her be the one to share this bit of news. "Actually, despite the fact that your rescue was a little unorthodox, after careful consideration, the captain agreed that you did the best anyone could have done under the circumstances. And General Worthington agreed. He wants you to be part of our team. As a permanent member."

Neil’s eyes widened. "And you’re okay with this?"

She nodded. "Just don’t do anything stupid, Neil."

"You’ll be there to stop me," he said.

"Always," she said with a slight smile, and left. As she walked down the sterile corridor, she wondered what she’d meant by the last, then shrugged. They were teammates now, for better or for worse. And she would be there for him, as she would be there for Ryan, or the captain.

Always.