Goose measured his words carefully. "That mountain fell, sir. I saw it fall."

"And what made it fall?"

Goose hesitated. "I don't know, sir."

"But you believe God caused it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then I'm also going to hold God responsible for the deaths of all those Rangers we left behind, Sergeant."

Goose felt an immediate surge of anger. That wasn't what God was about. He'd learned everything he knew about God from his father in Sunday school, and from Bill Townsend during the last few years. God hadn't killed those men they'd been forced to leave behind.

"Sir-"

Don't you argue with me," Remington interrupted. "Don't you even dare."

"No, sir."

"You can't have it both ways, Sergeant. If God was responsible for our salvation last night, then why didn't He save those men we lost?"

Goose didn't have an answer for that. He felt there was still so much he needed to learn.

Remington shook his head. He cursed and paced for an instant, then swung back on Goose. "This is a bad business, Sergeant. Bad business. Those men in that tent are there because they want to feel special. Like the hand of God Almighty has touched them. Like they're invulnerable or something."

Goose stood his ground. His knee throbbed.

"Is that what you want them thinking, Sergeant?" Remington demanded. "That they're invulnerable?"

"No, sir."

"You're right, 'No, sir.' Because thinking like that will get those men killed."

"Yes, sir."

Remington took in a deep breath, held it for an interminable moment, then released it. His dark lenses turned toward Goose again. "I am their commanding officer, Sergeant. I want them believing in me. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

Remington flicked his gaze back to the tent. "Let Baker talk for now, Sergeant, but I want this shut down. We've got chaplains for this kind of thing. I don't need some holy-roller stepping up from the enlisted to go on a private crusade to save the souls of the men I'm leading into battle."

Personally, Goose disagreed with that. Since they had been in camp in the city, Baker had continued with the baptisms for a while, till no one else had come forward. Then the big man had started witnessing to those who were interested.

"I want Baker's little tent revival closed down," Remington went on.

"Sir, this is Baker's personal time."

Remington wheeled on Goose and thrust his face forward, stopping less than an inch from Goose's face. Goose never moved. He shifted his gaze, staring through the captain's head the way he'd been trained to since Boot Camp.

"That man owes me five hours of sleep, Sergeant," Remington said. "I want them. Starting now."

"Yes, sir."

"Dismissed."

"Sir." Goose saluted sharply. "Yes, sir." He turned an about-face and headed for the tent church. Remington was wrong about his assessment of God's fault in the deaths of the men they'd lost, and Goose knew that. But he also knew he couldn't argue the point.

United States 75th Army Rangers Temporary Post Sanliurfa, Turkey Local Time 1612 Hours "Sergeant Samuel Gander." The woman in the Red Cross uniform looked around the room that had been set up as a communications center. She was middle-aged, a brunette with twenty extra pounds on her and a calm, confident demeanor. She held a hand over the phone handset she held.

Heart beating frantically, Goose limped forward. "Here." He held up a hand so the woman would see him in the crowd of men that filled the building near to bursting. "I'm Sergeant Gander."

The phone service coming into Turkey was abominably slow. He knew there were problems stateside, too, but he didn't know why. He'd been busy. And news was filtering through the military ranks slower than usual because there was so much weird stuff passing through with it that one knew what to believe.

The phones had been put in immediately upon the arrival of the American military reinforcements. Communications were being routed through one of satellites donated by Nicolae Carpathia until the American satellites were back on-line.

The Red Cross had manned the phones, answering and putting through calls as quickly as they could for servicemen in the immediate area. Goose had established a relief crew that swapped out with men at post so they could take phone calls from home.

The building was an auditorium that had been gutted of furniture to make room for the phone equipment. Soldiers sat on the floor or leaned against the walls while they waited to take calls that had been put on hold.

The woman handed the phone to Goose. She smiled, but she looked tired and worn. Not all news coming from home was good, and not all of it going back was either.

"It's Mrs. Gander, Sergeant," the woman said.

Thank You, God, Goose thought silently as he accepted the phone. He nodded at the woman. "Thank you, ma'am."

The woman hesitated. "Please try to be brief, Sergeant. I know that's asking a lot, given our present circumstances and everything that has been going on. But there are a lot of other men that need to speak to their families as well." The speech was the same one Goose had heard her dole out every time she handed over the phone.

"Yes, ma'am," Goose said. He pulled the handset to his ear and felt trapped by the cord. "Megan?"

"Goose? Goose, is it really you?" Megan's voice cracked and he heard her crying at the other end of the connection.

"It's me, Meg." Goose barely swallowed the lump that was in his throat. His eyes burned and he felt the unshed tears he wouldn't let fall because men were watching him. Everything he had planned to say to her evaporated the instant he heard her voice. But he did know what mattered. "I love you."

She cried for a moment. "I ... love ... you, too."

They were silent for a while, and Goose felt terrible that this time looked so wasted. But just hugging the phone like that made him feel like Megan was right there, like he could reach out and touch her or smell her hair.

"How bad is it there, Goose? I've been watching television. That's all anyone has been doing over here. It looks really bad."

"It probably looks better than it is," Goose said.

"But you're all right?"

"Yes." Goose shook his head, feeling the weight of everything that had happened. "I am. But there are a lot of guys over here, Meg, that aren't all right."

"I know. I've been praying for all of you."

Goose took a deep breath, struggling to keep himself centered. "Bill-" His voice broke. "Something happened to Bill."

"Is he hurt?"

Fatigue muddled Goose's thoughts. He didn't know how to explain what had happened. "He's not hurt. At least, I don't think he's hurt. He-he disappeared, Meg. I was right there beside him. He was there, then he wasn't. Nobody here knows what happened."

"1 know," Megan said. "It happened over here, too."

Goose tried to focus on what she had just said. "What happened?"

"The disappearances," Megan said. "The news is full of it."

The horror of a worldwide epidemic of disappearances surged through Goose. They still didn't even know who had taken the missing men-or how. He'd heard pieces and fragments of conversations about people missing back in the United States, but he'd been too busy to follow up on the scuttlebutt. He did know that DEFCON-2 had been pushed back due to something that had happened in Washington, D.C., and for that he was grateful.

"We haven't got much access to the news here," Goose said. "The disappearances have happened over there, too?"

"Yes."

Goose thought about his dad and Megan's parents. "Have you heard from your mom and dad?"

"Yes. They're fine. Just scared. The way most of us are. Nobody really understands what has been going on."

"It's okay," Goose said with more confidence than he felt. "We'll find out. The captain tells me the military intelligence teams are working on it. They'll find an answer. Maybe we can get those people back."

"I don't think so, Goose. Really, I don't." Her voice broke again.

"We'll get through it, Meg," Goose said. "I promise."

"We don't have a choice. I know that. I just don't understand why all the children had to be taken." Her breath rattled as she inhaled deeply. "Well, I mean I do understand, but it's just so hard to accept."

"What?" Panic exploded Goose's heart. "What about the children?"

Megan cried for a moment, then got herself together. "The children, Goose. All of the children are gone. Didn't you know?"

"Meg." Goose's voice faltered and he thought for a moment he was going to go insane. None of this made any sense. "Meg, there aren't any children in the 75th." Then he realized that he hadn't seen any children in the city streets either. But that hadn't been too surprising. Parents would keep their kids inside, especially with a foreign army occupying the city. "Where are Joey and Chris? Are they all right?"

She was quiet too long.

"Meg?" Asking again hurt him. Pain welled in his throat. Tears blurred his vision.

"Joey's here," Meg answered. "It's Chris, Goose. Chris is gone. Our baby is gone!"

To Goose, it seemed like all the air in the room suddenly went away. Then his injured leg went out from under him. All of his reserves seemed to collapse and dwindle into the cold, hard center of himself that manifested.

"Goose? Goose! "

Hurt took away Goose's voice. And even if he could have spoken, he didn't know what he would have said. All he could think about was Chris, how he might never hold his son or speak to him again. Bill's disappearance had seemed so grim, so final.

And now Chris. God, what have You done? What have You done?

United States of America Ft. Benning, Georgia Local Time 9:46 A.M.

Megan dumped the dirty clothes into the washer, added detergent, then closed the lid and started the cycle. Doing ordinary thingscooking, cleaning, getting kids to bathe-all felt reassuring. While she was doing those things, she could pretend everything was all right in the world, that the stories of the mysterious disappearances and all the tragic deaths that had happened the night before were all fantasies and lies. Propaganda, even.

Except that she knew it wasn't.

Even more upsetting, Joey hadn't come home last night. Megan had no idea where her eldest son was. He'd talked with Jenny-argued actually, Megan knew, because she'd heard them-yesterday morning. He hadn't come back since.

She'd tried to find him. Megan had gone through the list of acquaintances she'd had for Joey. For the most part, she'd discovered that her son no longer hung out with the same kids. And how had she not known that? Guilt washed over her as she listened to the washei s agitator kick to life and start whacking the laundry.

"Megan?"

Hearing Jenny's voice, Megan looked up and saw the young woman standing in the utility room doorway. "Yes."

"Bathroom's free," Jenny said. "Your turn in the shower."

Jenny had stayed last night to help out with the kids that had had nowhere else on base to go. Megan had been in touch with some of the other counselors and the volunteer staff to establish a system to start taking care of all the kids that had been left bereft of parents, either through the disappearances or because their parents were away on military assignments and the guardians they'd had had disappeared. Keeping enough hot water in her household to meet the needs of all the kids she'd taken in was impossible. She'd set the washer for cold.

"A shower, huh? Do we still have hot water?" Megan asked. She wanted a shower more than anything. She'd missed taking one last night with all the extra kids to care for.

"Some," Jenny answered. "If you make it quick, it might last." Megan sighed and nodded. "I've got Kelly and Regan's things about to come out of the dryer."

"I'll take care of it," Jenny said.

Megan nodded thanks, then headed back through the house. Kids were clustered around the table with Monopoly and Life. Board games helped give the younger teens focus. Others crowded around the television in the living room, watching the news from around the country.

She wanted to pull them back from the television, because she knew the images of downed planes, wrecked cars, burning buildings, and riots in the larger metropolitan areas would live with them forever. But those images would be mixed with footage of the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center, people jumping from the top of the buildings, and the sight of the space shuttle Columbia breaking up over Texas. These kids weren't completely unprepared for tragedy.

The world had changed. It had changed during those events, and it had changed yet one more time.

Megan couldn't help wondering how many more changes were coming, but she knew they would be there. How long had it been, she wondered as she crossed the living room and gently removed Tabitha Welch's feet from her couch, since there had been a true innocence in the world?

Tabitha apologized and Megan felt guilty. She told the girl everything was all right. Tabitha hugged the throw pillow she was holding more tightly.

The doorbell rang.

Josh Webb, who had two parents overseas and his grandparents missing, answered the door. He talked for a moment, then looked at Megan. "Mrs. Gander, it's for you."

Two uniformed MPs stood at the door. Both of them looked haggard and worn, much older than they should have.

"Mrs. Gander," one of them said.

'Yes.'

"I've got a warrant here, ma'am." He offered her a piece of paper.

"A warrant?" Megan knew what the word meant, but she couldn't make sense of it.

"Yes, ma'am," the MP said. "This was issued by the Provost's office. Gives me the right to search the premises."

"Search for what?"