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"These are the last days of my life..."


Sargun II
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"Why do you keep eating those peanuts?"

"Why do you keep asking if I eat these damn peanuts?"

"Because I do not like the sme-"

"You'll learn to love the smell and you'll learn it fast!"

Adnan quieted himself and stared disgruntled out the window of the Camaro. Evan reached over and popped a few more peanuts in his mouth, chewing determinedly as he parked the Camaro in the airport. He wouldn't be seeing her for a few days as he took a small vacation in Jerusalem, and he felt a tinge of sadness leaving her with Adnan. "Love the smell," he told the boy as he slammed the door behind him. Evan shook his head and sighed as he walked away, knowing full and well that he was being mean to the boy. He needed to learn not to question Evan, though, because one day he'd have to make a painful choice and he would want to disobey. Evan zipped his leather jacket a bit higher.

The not-so-young man took his window seat on the private aircraft. He waited for his guest to arrive.

"Would you like anything, sir?" A rather well-endowed waitress smiled and shook her hips as she walked to him. Evan sighed and nodded, saying, "I'd like a bit of herring, please." The waitress maid a little pout of a face and wrapped her arm around his neck.

"Everything alright, Evvie?"

"Everything's fine, June. How's the kid?"

"He's doing better. Got a B on his report card!"

"Good to hear. How about that herring, eh?"

June walked off to the back of the plane, her tight outfit still, after two years, catching a few glances from the male staff aboard the plane.

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Anthony presented his ticket, sighing at even the minute delay that took, but he'd in part been in charge of implimenting these security matters (though no one knew), so he couldn't really complain when they took the time to do thier jobs, even for a private aircraft. A minute later, he was allowed inside. He didn't really have any luggage to speak of--he could make do with the money he brought.

It was not widely advertised, but he was a wealthy man, so he could afford things like this even if he was the one paying for all of it. Which he wasn't, he reminded himself.

"Not interrupting anything important, am I?" he asked his host as he took his seat. His face held a slight smirk as he eyed the waitress' retreating back.

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"Only about ten years late," Evan said without a smile. "Would you like something to eat? She's a fantastic cook, you know. It's why I hired her. That and her legs," he added, a smile creeping back onto his face.

Evan leaned back in his leather chair and propped his legs up against the window, which jutted in just enough for his soles to rest on. "Good to see you made it." The door behind Anthony closed and a voice materialized around them, telling the two their time to departure.

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Anthony calmly ensured that he fastened the seat belt (OOC: If there is one, anyway :P /OOC).

"Would you like something to eat? She's a fantastic cook, you know. It's why I hired her. That and her legs."

The smirk grew. "No thanks, I ate before I came, so I'm good. But if you don't mind, I'll take a little nap during the flight." He stretched and yawned. "I need to catch up on my sleep."

"Good to see you made it."

"Should be interesting," he mumbled. "Wouldn't have come if you didn't seem to think it was so important, though..."

He began drifting off to sleep, though if anything were to go wrong, he'd been trained to wake at a moment's notice.

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"Run! Run!"

A rocket-propelled grenade soared through the air and landed next to her. He lunged forward and covered her body with his own. Heat flared up against his body, charring the armor. The smell of burned hair ripped across his nostrils and he knew for certain that he would die right there. Shrapnel lodged itself in his back, the useless kevlar folding under the pressure. The worst part was the force of the explosion. Still holding her in his arms, he was lifted off the ground and thrown ten feet, much larger than he was supposed to. RPGs aren't that powerfu--

Their Humvee was a flaming shell. The smoke from the explosion was a beacon to prove it. He tightened his grip around her, pulled themselves up and started running. His rifle was gone, his pistol fell away in the blast. He reached around and grabbed her pistol, pulled it out and started firing randomly. Three soldiers ran in front of them, pushing them behind. One they rounded the corner, safe from gunfire, they tried prying her away from him. He tightened his grip into a bear hug, refusing to let go.

Another explosion.

"You need to get in the Humvee.. aw, balls," the third soldier instead started pushing him to run. "Run, soldier!"

Helicopters streamed overhead, door gunners firing their machine guns. He looked above and smiled - they were safe. Another helicopter, a transport one, started landing in the middle of the large intersection. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her up and into the helicopter. Moments later he jumped up, screaming in pain from the shrapnel in his back. Tears of pain streaming from his eyes, he steadied himself as the helicopter rose up again.

As they rose above the buildings, a quick burst of bullets struck his chest. His armor protected him from death, but he lost his breath, balance and all sense of being. He fell. Hands groped above and grabbed on to the legs of the helicopter. He tried climbing up, pain in his every breath. The helicopter stopped moving for a moment as a door gunner took care of the gunman. She reached down and grabbed his arms. She started pulling him up. He grabbed her arms and pulled, his blood now falling to the ground. He looked at an adjacent roof and his body went numb. A gunman with a rifle was aiming steadily - not at him, but at her.

"No!"

With his (presumably) last breath, he whispered something. She paused. He took the moment to wrench his arms out of her grip. A bullet whizzed by precisely where her head was a moment ago - the movement from his action pushed her head out the way. He fell.

Below him was a low-hanging roof covered in persian rugs. He landed with an oomph on the soft surface. The heli started moving away and she pantomimed calling in help. She threw a green flare for him to use when the next convoy arrived. He couldn't catch it but it landed on the roof beside him. It was unusually quiet as the heli disappeared over the rest of the city.

It was a nightmare now. He was stuck in Barada Bush. There was an explosion in the street. His feet vibrated and sensation returned to his body as he forced himself up and readied his pistol at the door leading to the roof. A gunman erupted from the door and looked around. Not seeing him, the gunman rounded around the corner where he put a bullet in the gunman's head. The gunman fell to the ground. More yelling - they would be coming soon, and in much larger numbers.

Evan's eyes forced themselves open, releasing him from the reoccuring nightmare. His breath shallow, Evan looked up at June, who was standing worryingly over his shoulder.

"Barada Bush again, sweetie?"

"Yeah.." Evan looked at Anthony, who was asleep (or pretending to be). June made the pouty face again and served him the herring. Evan smiled graciously and almost inhaled the delicious fish, which was done in under a minute Clearing a few crumbs off his jacket, Evan stood up and deposited the plate in a large, hefty bag. June smiled and looked at the unmoving Anthony. "You should shower, I'll leave a note in case he wakes up."

Evan nodded wordlessly and moved to the back of the plane, where there was a small, vertical shower. It was brand new and part of the reason there were only two of these planes made so far. He stripped off his clothes into a bin and gathered a more subtle set of clothes, tinged wtih grey. Evan stepped into the shower and let the warm water, only allowed to last a total of thirty minutes, run across his tense body. He turned his back to the water and closed his eyes.

After a minute, he felt a pair of hands slip over his shoulders and rub a soapy pouf across his chest. June purred against his back.

-----

June emerged from the shower before he did, straightened up and back to cleaning. She did not emerge from the back of the plane (where Anthony was not allowed). Evan came out five minutes after the thirty minute shower was up, in a pair of faded grey jeans and a light black hoodie. He walked back to the cabin and sat back in his seat.

Edited by Sargun
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Dimly, in some portion of his consciousness, Anthony was aware of some of what was happening, but his instincts told him it was not a threat, and allowed him to continue his rest.

He wouldn't wake, really, until they had reached their destination, or until something more drastic occured.

Though upon waking he would take a moment to notice that Evan seemed to have changed into something a little more comfortable while he himself had been sleeping, he wouldn't feel like opening a converasation with the man over something so simple.

He had his own nightmares about his past, occasionally, but today was fortunate in that the rest was just that--restful.

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"Rise and shine, hun!"

June, ever her cheerful self, strutted by Anthony once they had reached their destination. Jerusalem was particularly cold today, reaching a freezing -2C. The skies above them were gray and it was evident that the light snow crunching underneath the stairs of the plane would not be letting up.

Evan sighed and wiped a bit of sleep from his eye. "First we go to the Western Wall," he told Anthony as they walked down the stairs and out onto the tarmac of the airport. "There was one particular prayer she said every night and I am sure that she would like me to say it before she is given a proper funeral."

Evan walked into the city from the airport in the direction of the Wall.

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there was no transition. He was asleep, and then he was awake. Though it was a pleasant voice to wake to, and he tossed a smile in June's direction. 'Remember, though, she's not yours,' he reminded himself. 'Look but don't touch.'

He sat up, stretching, and glanced over at Evan, who was taking a little more time to wake up. But wake the man did, and soon they were out in the freezing weather. Much colder than he was used to, although he adjusted quickly, originally being from a climate even colder than this. Still, he shiverred a little in the sub-zero temperatures. It was a good thing they'd be walking to their destination, allowing him to warm himself up through activity.

"First we go to the Western Wall. There was one particular prayer she said every night and I am sure that she would like me to say it before she is given a proper funeral."

Anthony nodded, following his lead. "If you don't mind me prying, could you tell me a little about her?"

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"Her name was Alyssa. Well, her 'white' name anyway. She was born in Japan, but she never told me her hometown. Some of her family is a bit, ah, ultranationalist. Supportive of the Kyokujitsujins. She was a bit more, ah, moderate in her views. Even dyed her hair brunette, you know? Tried to fit in more. She was very, very.. Caucasian. Her father thought her mother fooled around with a white man."

Evan smiled as he pulled out a picture from his wallet and showed it to Anthony. "She was a bit liberal with the drink, I must admit. Always afraid that I was going to run off with some woman.. Ironic, really," he said without elaborating. He couldn't bring himself to talk without prodding; he felt that in order to get it out, Anthony would have to ask. He felt like a teenage boy again, wanting someone to pay attention to him, but this time the emotions were far more serious.

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"She was a beautiful woman," Anthony commented.

He thoughtfully considered the photograph before speaking again. "Two more questions. How did you meet her...and what prompted you to leave her?"

There were, of course, assumptions in both those questions, though he felt confident they were the right ones. If they were not, Evan would surely correct him in due time.

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"I met her in the South American War. I was a young Republic soldier when I met her. She was vomiting from the sight of the burning corpses in the trees. I lagged behind and helped her pull through it. I think she sort of clung to me as a guardian angel while we fought through the civilians in the jungle." Evan sighed and rubbed his thumb around Alyssa's face.

"I did not.. I did not leave her. The day before our wedding, we.. she was drunk, we had a fight.." He put the picture back into his wallet and slid it back into his pocket. "I killed her. She died in my arms that night."

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"I see." The words were quiet, not only thoughtful, but also slightly mournful.

Anthony could sympathize to a degree. "I didn't actually pull the trigger that killed my wife, but I might as well have. While I did not kill her, actions I took set in motion the events that led to her death. It should have been me that died, not her, and certainly not my sons."

He was paying very little attention to their surroundings, only enough to avoid running into anything or anyone. He wasn't even sure how far their destination was...

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"I suspect her mother did fool around with a Proxian. She had the cutest pseudo-Scottish accent, it was impossible to ignore." His face glowed as he remembered her voice. "Soft, sort of like.. like rustling leaves in the fall, limp against the wet grass. It was captivating; it was soothing." Evan smiled and regained control of his body moments before slamming into a man in a black suit.

The man smiled and nodded and proceeded on his way. Evan looked at Anthony and sighed. "We're close to the Wall."

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Anthony couldn't help smiling a little at how Evan described her. Despite the faults the man had listed earlier, she did sound like a captivating woman. If she had still been alive, he had a passing thought that it would have been nice to actually meet her.

He chuckled a little when Evan nearly collided with someone, but his expression grew more serious when the man mentioned they were close to their destination. He was actually curious, as he'd never been to Jerusalem.

"I have to admit I've never been here before. What do you want me to do when we get there?"

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"I want you to ask yourself what you think you should do when we get there," he replied seriously. The streets were rather thinner than it normally would be thanks to the chill and this afforded them a shot at having a relatively empty section of the Wall to themselves. "I will.. I will not be able to control my emotions, that much is for sure." Evan's hands fumbled over a somewhat rusty Star of David that he held in his hand, his thumb absentmindedly circling around it. The Wall was soon in view, with the plaza below it virtually empty. He started down the stairs.

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"I want you to ask yourself what you think you should do when we get there," he replied seriously. The streets were rather thinner than it normally would be thanks to the chill and this afforded them a shot at having a relatively empty section of the Wall to themselves. "I will.. I will not be able to control my emotions, that much is for sure." Evan's hands fumbled over a somewhat rusty Star of David that he held in his hand, his thumb absentmindedly circling around it. The Wall was soon in view, with the plaza below it virtually empty. He started down the stairs.

"I want you to ask yourself what you think you should do when we get there." Anthony, unlike some, took the words and actually thought about what they meant. What did he think he should do while he was there? He wasn't a religious man, but he respected those who believed in a power greater than themselves. Particularly Christians...and Jews. Now there was a people that withstood the test of time.

One of the oldest distinct set of people in the world, they managed to outlast all who oppressed them, and in the end, built a thriving nation in the land that had belonged to their forefathers. Few others, if any, could truly say as much about themselves.

He wouldn't be praying himself, but he would respect those few who were there even at this time.

"I will.. I will not be able to control my emotions, that much is for sure."

"One thing I've learned over my years. It does no one any good to simply suppress emotion. There is a time and place for certain things, yes, but at some point, you need to let yourself experience them. That doesn't mean I won't give you a bit of privacy...this is your time, not mine."

OOC: Lavo was watching us earlier, BTW. :D

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"I am not particularly religious, but I am sure she would have wanted me to say it - she isn't finished with her journey. This was the only one I let her teach me." There were only two other men at the Wall, something that gave him comfort. He wasn't a man who liked opening himself up in public. Evan touched the Wall and lowered his head.

"Y'hi ratzon milfanekha A-donai E-loheinu ve-lohei avoteinu she-tolikhenu l'shalom v'tatz'idenu l'shalom v'tadrikhenu l'shalom, v'tagi'enu limhoz heftzenu l'hayim ul-simha ul-shalom. V'tatzilenu mi-kaf kol oyev v'orev v'listim v'hayot ra'ot ba-derekh, u-mi-kol minei pur'aniyot ha-mitrag'shot la-vo la-olam. V'tishlah b'rakha b'khol ma'a'se yadeinu v'tit'nenu l'hen ul-hesed ul-rahamim b'einekha uv-einei khol ro'einu. V'tishma kol tahanuneinu ki E-l sho'me'a t'fila v'tahanun ata. Barukh ata A-donai sho'me'a t'fila."

May it be Your will, Lord, our God and the God of our ancestors, that You lead us toward peace, guide our footsteps toward peace, and make us reach our desired destination for life, gladness, and peace. May You rescue us from the hand of every foe, ambush along the way, and from all manner of punishments that assemble to come to earth. May You send blessing in our handiwork, and grant us grace, kindness, and mercy in Your eyes and in the eyes of all who see us. May You hear the sound of our humble request because You are God Who hears prayer requests. Blessed are You, Adonai, Who hears prayer.

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"I am not particularly religious, but I am sure she would have wanted me to say it - she isn't finished with her journey. This was the only one I let her teach me."

Anthony nodded, not really feeling the need to reply, and he stood back as he listened to Evan speak the prayer.

He adopted an appropriately solemn demeanor as the foreign sylables washed overhim, and he wondered what they really meant. Perhaps he should make the effort to learn the language one of these days.

In any case, even as he wore a solemn expression, he took in the surroundings with no small feeling of awe. This was a place with literally hundreds, if not thousands, of years of history behind it.

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//OOC: I MADE A POST LAST NIGHT GODDAMNIT//

"I will be strong. For her."

Evan dropped to his knees and placed his hands against the Wall, muttering indecipherable words under his breath. The words flowed like a spell from a wizard's hand, a fire burning through the icy core his soul has frozen into. His eyes, already stinging from the cold air, produced sweet, sweet tears that dropped to the ground like so many before him. He wasn't quite aware that Anthony was behind him, nor was he aware that the other men near the Wall had left. His hands traced tiny, worn grooves in the Wall that the thousands before him had left by their touch. Memories of beds and hammocks flowed through his mind, the familiar touch of a stone wall...

"Let's go. I cannot stay here any more." He stood up, took a breath, and turned around.

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Anthony nodded. Unconsciously, his thoughts had begu to turn to his own past, but Evan had interrupted that line of thought before it could really get started.

He almost asked what the words to the prayer meant, but decided against it. It wouldn't be tactful.

Instead, he asked a more purposeful question. "Where are we going from here?"

OOC: I hate it when I lose posts like that...

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"The funeral. It starts soon. Not many people will be there."

Evan walked past Anthony, then abruptly stopped and turned around. He placed his hands on Anthony's shoulders and gripped them tight. "I don't know if I can do it, Anthony. If I can.. be there."

//OOC: short, but I'd rather have short and powerful than long and useless

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"The funeral. It starts soon. Not many people will be there."

Evan walked past Anthony, then abruptly stopped and turned around. He placed his hands on Anthony's shoulders and gripped them tight. "I don't know if I can do it, Anthony. If I can.. be there."

//OOC: short, but I'd rather have short and powerful than long and useless

Anthony looked Evan in the eye, doing his best not to wince at the tight grip the other man had on his shoulders. "Look. I know it's going to be difficult to attend, especially when you hold yourself responsible for her death. But..." he continued, "how do you think you will feel if you don't go? I know that I, too, were I in your position, would be afraid to attend. But I know, also, I would feel worse afterward for not having gone."

"So, Evan Hiley. How do you think you would feel if you did not have the courage to face this?"

Was this, perhaps, why the man had brought him along? To keep him going if he started to doubt himself?

OOC: *nods* I agree wholeheartedly. Quality is preferable to quantity if you have to choose.

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"I will feel... empty."

Evan nodded and let go of Anthony, his hands a little cramped. "Thank you," he whispered, putting his hands into his jacket and turning around again. He started walking, talking about random things that he saw. A man selling apples, a little girl with a cold, planes flying overhead; everything was of interest, to take his mind off of the funeral ahead. It was a rather long walk through the city, taking the better half of an hour to complete. The cold bit at him as he walked, the snow starting to pile up a few inches in the city. Many cars in the streets were jammed, as the snowstorm was inconceivable.

"We're here." It was one of the outskirts of Yerushalaim. He stopped for a moment to look back at Anthony. "Your legs aren't tired, are they?"

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"Thank you."

Anthony nodded as Evan let go. "You're welcome." He followed, simply listening as his companion talked about random things, even interjecting with a comment or two of his own, but mostly letting Evan talk.

Despite himself, he shiverred in the cold air. It could have been worse, but at least they were moving, preventing any serious problems from the chill.

Then, all of a sudden, the stopped.

"We're here." Anthony took a moment to meet Evan's questioning look. "Your legs aren't tired, are they?"

He shook his head. "I've had to do worse than walk in the cold for most of an hour." He offered a small smile. "Doesn't mean I enjoy it, but really, I'm fine."

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//OOC: Sorry, family came to visit and then the suspension. In any case, I didn't plan on RPing the actual funeral and I won't be writing about it in the future. To speed this up I'm going to skip the next part, which was mainly going to be questions of love and family. :]

At this part they're walking into a hotel on the outskirts of Yerushalaim.//

"Thanks for talking with me, Anthony." Evan sighed and coughed ("Damn dry air") then handed a wad of cash to the man behind the counter. The hotel was extremely lavish, with rooms the size of several houses. The man behind the counter turned around and the cap holding his hair in fell - and Evan realized that it was actually a woman with her hair in a bun. She was obviously there for her looks, as she looked nervous herself as she bent over to pick up her hat. Evan's eyes looked straight across the room, although he could, without looking, pick up every curve that her business skirt showed.

She straightened her cap and picked up, red-faced, the money he left on the counter. "Thank you, sir, but.. what's your name?" She blinked and blushed at her mistake in being unprofessional.

"Room is registered under a Jason Bourne, yes?"

"Yes, sir."

"That'd be me."

"Your name is actually Jason Bourne?"

Evan smiled and winked at her as he held his hand out for the card. She handed him the card and he in turn handed it to Anthony. "Go up to Room 11 and choose a bed for yourself, I have to determine how long I'm staying down here. Won't take but a minute."

As Anthony headed up the stairs/elevator, he turned back to the woman behind the counter and winked at her again.

---

As Evan and the counter-girl engaged in less than socially acceptable talk underneath their breaths, two other men, donned in traditional clothes and the long beards of some sort of Jewish faith that Evan didn't particularly know or care about, walked by and went up the stairs as well.

As soon as they were out of sight, the men stripped off their beards and hats then raced down a hallway. "Room 11, the computer says," one of them muttered in Arabic. They both nodded, went up to Room 11, and knocked on the door.

Edited by Sargun
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