Heller smiled. "Well, Jason, the reason I specifically told you about this goes beyond tonight and what I said. It goes beyond tomorrow, and what happens there, too. The last age of control is ending and another one is starting. I’m pretty sure you're going to have a part to play in this."

Jason slowed the car down again.

"What makes you say that? I'm no one, Heller. I'm just an ex-marine with a bad temper who drives a taxi for a living. Telling me what you told me tonight is pointless because no one would believe me if I told them. I don't have any power or control in this world. I'm just as helpless as all the other sheep out there, just trying to scrape a living and keep myself out of trouble."

"You're more than just some random man, Jason, but I can't say anything more about that right now for your own sake, believe it or not. You were right, Jason, tonight wasn't some chance meeting. Tonight was me wanting to see how you'd turned out, and to maybe help shed some light on who you really are."

This kind of conversation annoyed the living hell out of Jason. There's nothing worse than listening to someone who talks in riddles all the time, usually because, most of the time, they're talking crap and just want to come across as being some kind of intellectual. Heller's riddles were starting to wear very, very thin on him.

"Jesus, you're talking in circles, old man. There's all this stuff you've told me upfront about how you all killed Kennedy, but then you hint at other stuff but never give anything away. At this point, I'm just sick of listening to you. I have enough crap in my life without all this. Brinkley is just around the corner."

Heller said nothing more.

Chapter 23

Jason pulled his cab up outside the clinic and sat there, waiting for Heller to get out, but nothing happened. He turned around and saw that Heller was just staring out the window, scratching his chin. He was lost in his own thoughts yet again by the look of things.

"Heller, we’re done. It’s time for you to go.”

Heller just sat there silently, but obviously running something over in his mind.

"Do you know what an empath is, Jason?"

Jason paused, checked his mind quickly, and realized that he had no idea. He said as much. "I have absolutely no idea, Heller. None. Why?"

"Because you are one. That's part of your gift. It's the reason you can sense trouble coming. It's the reason you survived the IED (Improvised Explosive Device) blast and no one else in your unit did."

Jason’s blood ran cold again. How the hell could Heller know about that? No one did. He barely even thought about it himself, except during the long nights when his mind kept him awake. What gift was he talking about?

Chapter 24

Jason winced at the thought. Those few minutes of his life were never going to leave him. The flash, a split second of silence, and then the entire world around him being torn apart.

That patrol through Helmand was meant to be a cake walk. They were just meeting up with local militia to make sure there were no major tribal issues going down before they shipped out home. It was a small patrol with a Striker, two Hummers, and a support vehicle - no heavy weapons with them. Their presence was being wound down, so no one saw the need to bring any “artillery” along on this trip. Hindsight is always 20/20 though, isn’t it?

The guys in his unit had been buzzing about getting home and getting out of the asshole of the world that was Helmand Province. Everyone was in a good mood, and even the local militia they were visiting weren't exactly hardcore dudes, just locals trying to defend their own patch of dirt, in the middle of a far bigger patch of dirt.

Jason sat in the back staring out the window as they rounded the corner to the next village on their patrol. Everything looked normal. Kids playing, goats running, and the usual look of apprehension on the faces of the village elders. They’d seen more than one foreign army in their country during their lifetime, and they trusted none of them. He remembered thinking that they'd be done and dusted here in 20 minutes, or maybe less if they were lucky. The entire unit would get to go home intact, and he was grateful for that. They’d led a charmed life so far.

It was a typical day in Afghanistan, hot and tense. They’d been on patrol all morning and the thought of it ending was appealing to everyone inside the hummer they shared. Spirits were high and the banter was good.

The next thing Jason heard was a voice inside his head shouting, "Down. Get down. NOW!"

Without thinking, he hit the floor of the Hummer on instinct, assuming it was an NCO barking an order at him. Questioning orders was either likely to get you killed far too quickly, or not at all. So far, obeying combat orders had kept him alive, so when he heard an order barked, he moved without thinking.

At first, there was a bright flash and then the shockwave hit their vehicle a split second later. It was a big one, too. It blew out Jason's ears, he felt like he'd been shot against a concrete wall by one of those big cannons they shoot circus clowns out of. For those few moments, he existed in a world of noise, pain, and heat, and then everything went quiet.

When he opened his eyes again, most of their Hummer was gone. So was most of his unit. What was left of them was still inside the vehicle though. He was wearing parts of them, and whatever was left was still strapped into their respective seats. The Hajis usually waited for a Striker or Hummer to pass over the IED before setting it off remotely, but the extra armor plating they used defeated most of these. These clever SOBs had mounted the 155mm shell that formed the heart of their IED above ground so it opened the Hummer like a beer can when it detonated.

He'd propped himself up on his elbows, trying to stand but he found that impossible. The best he could manage was kneeling there with blood pouring out of his ears, nose, and mouth, while a loud ringing inside his head meant he could barely think, never mind do anything useful.

Seconds later, the other Hummer crew members were pulling him out of the shredded vehicle he was kneeling in and to safety. The Striker was on station scanning for additional electronic signals and ready to lay down fire on anything that moved.   Combat always seemed to be more about reacting than anything else.

These were always the most dangerous moments after any IED incident, the moment where a careless word or movement was enough to get dozens of people shot to pieces. The villagers knew that anyone even looking at a cell phone was likely to have their ass blown straight to hell, and no one would apologize for it afterward. Most of the locals just stood there looking afraid, waiting for all hell to break loose.

As he watched the scene around him, Jason quickly figured out that he was the sole survivor of his unit. No one else made it, so he couldn't ever be sure who gave the order to get down, or why they didn't try to save themselves, too. They’d obviously seen what was coming and tried to warn everyone else.

A medivac came swooping in less than 30-minutes later, backed up by a pair of gunships. No one had expected this and judging by the way people were looking at him, no one could figure out why Jason Armstrong was still alive. After he was loaded onboard, the medivac chopper pulled up and banked away from the village, but Jason caught glimpses of teams going house-to-house, trying to find the guys behind the IED. No chance of that. Those guys were long gone, and so was whoever pulled the remote trigger. The villagers were never going to give them up either, or they’d be wiped out by the Hajis the same night. This was a lose-lose for everyone involved.