CHAPTER 20

When they arrived at the monastery gate they found Lita waiting just 
inside, sitting on a stone bench, her hands clasped in her lap 
placidly. Gibson opened the gate and went to her side. John took a 
few steps toward the gate, but Monica pulled him aside before they 
entered. "Give them a minute," she whispered. Gibson sat next to 
Lita on the bench and they gazed into each others' eyes. The last 
thing Monica saw was Gibson reaching into his pocket for the 
locket. "I'd love to know what they're thinking to each other," 
Monica whispered when they were out of earshot.

"Not me," John whispered. As they stood by the stone wall John put 
his arm around her waist and pulled her toward him. "We want him to 
respect our privacy..." he nuzzled her neck sensuously. "We should 
respect his."

Monica put her hands to the back of his neck and looked admiringly 
into his eyes. "How did I get so lucky?" she sighed.

He grinned awkwardly, still not entirely comfortable with her 
compliments despite his comfort with her. "You're just saying 
that." He leaned forward to kiss her, then something caught his eye 
and he stepped around her. "Stay here," he ordered.

He walked a few steps forward, staying close to the wall, hiding 
himself in the shadows thrown by its overhang. Monica appeared at 
his side and he whispered in annoyance, "Get back!" She took one 
step backward then followed him silently just the same. An SUV 
pulled to a stop next to the gate, a man and a woman emerging and 
leaving the doors open.

"Gibson," John and Monica heard a low voice say sharply. "Get in the 
car."

Gibson and Lita appeared at the gate and peered at the couple through 
the bars. They stood motionless in the starlight, their impassive 
faces hiding their psychic dialogue. The next thing they heard was a 
woman's loud, sharp voice ordered, "NOW!"

John and Monica crept forward as the strangers approached the gate. 
Gibson's eyes involuntarily looked in their direction, making the 
strange couple turn their heads to see what he saw.

"GUN!" Gibson shouted, then ducked behind the wall next to the gate. 
The couple turned toward Doggett and Reyes, who were still in the 
shadows.

John turned to check on Monica and was surprised to see she was only 
a few feet away. "Here!" Doggett ordered. He grabbed her by the 
ribcage and started lifting her up against the wall. She got the 
idea then grabbed a handful of ivy to pull herself up. At the top 
she turned around and, lying on the top, reached down to help her 
partner. He looked over his shoulder and saw the woman pointing a 
revolver toward Reyes. "GO!" he cried out, then pushed against her 
hands, forcing her to fall to the other side.

"NO!!!" Gibson shouted. "Mom, Dad... STOP IT!"

Doggett gasped and held his hands up. "You're his parents?"

"Leave him alone!" Gibson was frantic now. "I'll come with you!"

The couple turned and started walking toward Gibson. Doggett took 
his opportunity and ran up behind them, trying to force each one off-
balance with his outstretched arms. To his surprise they barely 
budged. The woman turned and grabbed his arm. She lifted him up, 
and his eyes widened in surprise. He looked from her to the man, who 
continued walking toward the gate, and he noticed a large lump on the 
man's neck, just above his shirt collar. "Oh sh---" Doggett said 
just before the woman flung him against the stone wall. He hit it 
with a loud thud then crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

As Gibson's father approached the gate, Gibson and Lita stood wide-
eyed with horror as he started to shake, his shuddering growing more 
violent as he continued to approach. The pair found themselves 
unable to move as the man convulsed then flew through the air into 
the gate, smashing aginst it. The bars of the gate cut through his 
body, throwing chunks of sizzling flesh hurling toward the teens.

The tall, angular woman stood at a distance, rock-steady with no 
trace of shaking, and shouted to Gibson. "Get in the car," 
Gibson. "NOW!"

Gibson grabbed Lita around the shoulders and shouted "NO!"

His mother wheeled and pointed the gun at the unconscious 
Doggett. "I said, NOW, Gibson," she repeated in a maternal, 
scolding, tone.

"STOP! Don't shoot!" he yelled. "I'll go with you." Gibson's lower 
lip quivered and he turned to Lita, then he kissed her briefly on the 
lips and reached for the gate handle. 
His mother turned to face him, and just then a shot rang out... and a 
bullet found her forehead.

*************
The bullet made a clean entry, but within seconds the skin around the 
wound began to sizzle, widening the hole and revealing first the 
bone, and then the brain underneath. Within seconds the woman's head 
had dissolved, and she was soon a smoking heap of goo.

Monica ran to Gibson and pulled him away from the gate, hugging him 
tightly to her as she watched his mother dissolve. Mother Catherine 
stood near Lita, her gun still pointing toward the gate until she was 
sure she'd seen the last of the enemy. When she was satisfied, she 
lowered her gun and returned it to the holster Monica never knew was 
under her habit. She put her hands on Lita's shoulders and turned 
the girl toward her for a grandmotherly hug.

Mary rushed to the scene with Martha following behind her. "Oh my," 
Mary said. "Not another one."

Together Mary and Martha pulled the gate open, straining against the 
weight of what was left of Gibson's father. Catherine stroked Lita's 
hair and spoke over her head, "Go get John. Take him to the 
infirmary."

At these words, Monica let go of Gibson and rushed through the gate, 
frantically searching the shadows for any sign of her partner. Her 
lover's instincts located his form amidts the shrubs and cactus, and 
she ran to him. "John! John!" she shouted, kneeling at his 
side. "Wake up!"

Mary pulled her aside and soothingly said, "We'll take over from 
here. He'll be fine."

Martha put her hand on John's head, her eyes closed, her face tense 
with concentration. "He'll be fine," she diagnosed. "Go be with 
Gibson," she ordered. "He needs you more." Monica hesitated but 
Martha insisted, "GO!"

Mary held Monica's shoulders and urged her toward the gate. "She 
knows what she's doing," Mary assured her. Monica nodded, but 
continued looking over her shoulder at the crumpled shadow and the 
white-clad woman tending to him. The image of an angel, its white 
wings tucked behind its back, briefly replaced Martha in Monica's 
minds-eye, and she felt a sense of peace. Yes, she decided. John 
was in good hands.

She found Gibson on the stone bench, hunched over, seemingly studying 
his hands. "Gibson?" Monica said soothingly as she sat next to 
him. "Want to talk about it?" She rested her hand lightly on his 
shoulder, and he took that as his cue to turn toward her. He threw 
his arms around her waist and buried his head on her shoulder. 
Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around him and bent her head 
toward his. She rocked him side to side and cooed softly, 
saying "It's okay. Everything will be okay." Her eyes closed, she 
focused her mind on peace and security, hoping Gibson would sense it 
too.

After a few minutes, Gibson sighed and pulled away from her. "They 
were my parents," he said, a catch in his voice.

"I know," Monica answered, massaging the back of his neck 
gently. "And you loved them."

He nodded, then sighed, then smiled and looked toward the gate. 
Monica looked too, and in a moment saw John walking through it, 
supported by Martha. She rushed to him and supported him from the 
other side. "John," she breathed. "Are you okay?"

John nodded, his eyes half open. "I'm getting there," he growled. 
Monica continued helping him until they reached the small infirmary.

"I'll take over from here," Martha said, shutting the door behind 
them.

Monica turned to see Gibson a few steps behind her. "He'll be fine," 
she assured him. He nodded to reassure her. They both knew that 
neither was convinced. Monica forced herself to smile and 
said, "Now, let's get you cleaned up." She looked down at his shirt 
and pants, which were smeared with his father's remains. Gibson 
nodded, and they walked hand-in-hand toward the cottage.

While Gibson showered, Monica tried to meditate, but her thoughts 
returned time and again to Gibson and his parents. Had they been his 
natural parents? How long had they been supersoldiers? Did Gibson 
know what they were? And what about his foster parents? Why didn't 
he feel safe with them? Were they supersoldiers too? And what about 
Lita's parents?

She started her breathing routine again, but instead of a controlled 
exhale she sighed heavily. And what about John? Was his proposal 
really about Gibson? He seemed to enjoy having the boy around. Was 
he just trying to live out his fantasy of what bringing up Luke would 
have been like? She inhaled again and forced herself to breathe 
correctly, then did it again. She had to talk to them both, she 
decided, and on her third breath she found her center. As she 
descended into her meditative state she lost track of time and space, 
going deeper into a peaceful place of her own creation, going 
home... And as her conscious and subconscious merged silently into a 
deep, almost under-water weightlessness, a sudden thought floated to 
the surface. 'And what about me?' the thought intruded 
loudly. 'What do *I* want?' She opened her eyes with a start, and 
that instant John flung open the door and stood unsteadily before her.