"No, Mr. President, I do not believe this. However, it is clear that you are training many more air wings than are necessary for the number of carriers you claim to be building. We therefore naturally believe that somewhere, unannounced and unnoticed, you are building more. Such secretive plans concern us. We would like to know you intentions."

Now it was clear to Zenim that the Americans had detected the significance of the training going on at the other airfields. His intelligence people had warned of this possibility and it would be good to confirm it to them.

"Mr. President, our only intention is to protect our interests. We intend to build a force, whether ground air or naval forces, adequate to that task."

"With our new Asian coalition and with the interest many other nations are showing in it, I believe it is clear that those national interests of ours are growing. We sincerely hope and are in fact confident that the United States and its navy will respect those interests rather than violating them."

Well, there it was, thought President Weisskopf. He might as well have warned us to back off of the Western Rim altogether.

"We will respect any legitimate interests of your nation, Mr. President. But we expect our interests to also be respected, along with those of our allies. In that regard, we maintain a right of free pa.s.sage on the open seas; whether in the open Pacific Ocean, the Philippine Sea, or the China Sea. We hope that your intentions do include a plan to restrict that pa.s.sage."

"I trust on these issues, as well as the others we discussed earlier today and yesterday, that our respective trade and diplomatic missions in July will be able to make progress and resolve these differences between us."

So, the American is done talking, thought Jien Zenim. It's just as well. Clearly Weisskopf has no intention of yielding. Well, this will produce more strain and will eventually lead to conflict. Although unfortunate, it is acceptable. The preparations are almost complete and, unlike the Americans, the Chinese people are ready for it physically and mentally.

"I sincerely hope for that progress as well, Mr. President. I sincerely do."

Chapter 2.

"Few men have virtue to withstand the highest bidder "George Was.h.i.+ngton

May 5, 2005, 10:00 local time Center of Theological Studies Qom, Iran Hojjatolesla Hasan al-Askari Sayeed sat quietly, humbly, as the aging Ayatollah Ol Osam (or Grand Ayatollah) Khamenei approached. The other Grand Ayatollahs sat facing him, and behind them were the many other Mujtahids and senior Mullahs and clerics of the s.h.i.+a Muslim faith. Hasan knew what was about to happen. The event unfolding today had been ordained several years before. There would be no surprises here.

Putting both of his aged hands on Hasan shoulders, and staring intently into his eyes, Ayatollah Ol Osam Khamenei said, "My son, it is time."

As Hasan reflected on what was about to happen, he looked into the clear eyes of Ayatollah Ol Osam Khamenei and replied, "Allah Ahkbar, I am ready"

What was happening was unprecedented in the history of s.h.i.+a Islam. Hasan was about to receive his authorization as an Ayatollah Ol Osam from the Ayatollah Ol Osam Khamenei, and be tacitly and explicitly recognized by the a.s.sembled clerics as Imam Hasan Sayeed, the grand spiritual, political and military leader of the Islamic Republic. He would be the youngest to have attained the position of Ayatollah Ol Osam in many decades. He would be the first true Imam in centuries.

His entire thirty-nine years of life had led him to this tremendous achievement. But Hasan was far from finished 'achieving.'

Hasan was born in the city of Arak, Iran in 1965 on the 15th of Shaban, the same day as the mystical 12th Imam, Imam-e Asr. Hasan's father, himself a senior Mullah in the faith and an ardent follower of the Ayatollah Ol Osam Khomeini, began his son's teachings early, when Hasan was but five years of age. So effective and strict a course of study had he outlined, and so bright a student had Hasan proved himself to be, that at the unprecedented age of twelve he had been chosen for enrollment in a madraseh for Theological Studies in Arak. There he began his study of Islamic Law in the very place where the revered Ruhullah Khomeini had received similar teachings. His acceptance of, and strict, pious adherence to, the pillars of the s.h.i.+a faith at such an early age had been a marvel to the older clerics and Ayatollahs who had spent decades obtaining the same levels of single-mindedness and dedication. That such a young pupil could so quickly master shaheda (confession of the faith), nampz (the s.h.i.+a ritual prayers), zakat (the giving of alms), saum (fasting and contemplation) and Hajj (pilgrimage to Mecca and Medina) was not only unprecedented; it was miraculous. More and more of the clerics and Ayatollahs were speaking of it in those terms as Hasan completed his second year of study in 1979. Many began wondering whether Hasan might represent an actual re-appearance of the mystical 12th Imam, Imam-e Asr (the Imam of the Age) or Sahib az Zaman (the Lord of Time), whom the s.h.i.+a believe never died, but would one day return as the great Mahdi, or Messiah.

But, the events surrounding the 1979 Islamic Revolution had interrupted all of that speculation, along with Hasan's studies. The conflict with the Shah forced his family into hiding until the Islamic Republic and its Revolutionary Council could establish order. In 1980, the invasion of Iran by Iraq and the resulting war also interceded upon Hasan's education. At the age of fifteen, Hasan had joined the Pasdaran, or people's militia, and marched off to answer what he believed was no less of a 'calling,'

joining his fellow s.h.i.+as in defense of their earthly homeland and heritage.

During that war, Hasan had been introduced to another of the seven pillars of s.h.i.+a Islam: the Jihad, or Holy War, to protect Islam. Even though young, Hasan viewed Iraq's attack as an extension of the infidel Western cultures, and The Great Satan in particular. As such, it was an attack on the pillars of Islam held sacred by his own s.h.i.+a faith. He therefore practiced and learned war as he had those other pillars. His unwavering trust in Allah and his absolute dedication to the preservation and defense of the Islamic Republic, even in the face of Iraq's military superiority, moved his soul and motivated his compatriots.

This uniquely unwavering resolve became glaringly apparent at the besieged city of Abadan, where he and his platoon destroyed six fortified enemy positions by direct a.s.sault, bringing honor to his nation and much acclaim among the Pasdaran. By mid-1982, the seventeen-year-old Hasan was commanding an entire company of the Pasdaran.

"Allah Mak! Allah Mak!"

As Khamenei began to officially recognize him before the a.s.sembled clerics as the Imam Sayeed, Hasan bowed his head soberly and continued his reflections.

He remembered well the day in late 1982, after capturing an entire Iraqi division intact, when the audible words had made their way, unbidden, into his mind. "These are your brothers. Why do you fight them?"

From that time forward, though he was as committed as ever to defending the Islamic Republic and the faith, he vowed to find a way to spiritually, politically and militarily unite his Islamic brothers and break the manipulations of a greater foe.

After the war, Hasan had been given progressive positions of responsibility in the Pasdaran, ultimately being appointed as a commander over a significant portion of that force in 1988. During that entire time, his influence as a spiritual leader had also continued to grow. His strict adherence to the seventh pillar of the s.h.i.+a faith, to do good and think no evil, was universally recognized by his troops and his superiors alike. Such a commander, they said, could lead them to the gates of Hades and back, returning victorious. No one doubted that with Hasan's influence the Pasdaran would unfailingly fulfill its mission to safeguard the Islamic Republic against any force that would threaten it.

In 1989, when Ruhullah Khomeini died, Hasan, at the age of twenty-four, resigned from his military duties to return to his theological studies. He chose the madraseh at the city of Qom to re-enter the Center for Theological studies, continuing to follow in the footsteps of Khomeini, who had also studied there.

In 1996, he took a three-year pilgrimage and visited many holy sites in Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan, impressing many there with his religious knowledge, piety, military expertise and youth. It was during this pilgrimage, while on the southern borders of Kyrgyzstan, that he first heard of the Chinese secular teachings of the "Time of the Three Wisdoms."

Hasan was indeed a pious and a faithful man. He was also a realist. He knew of the rumors concerning his own ident.i.ty. He recognized, and was wary of, the ambitions of the Chinese. He could neither affirm nor deny the rumors about himself. The One G.o.d, Allah, would reveal all in His time. But, that the Chinese were growing in power, wealth and influence was self-evident.

Hasan also knew that it would take a combination of more numbers, wealth and weapons than the entire "faithful" Islamic world possessed to rid Islam of the Great Satan, and his sp.a.w.ns-and succeed in purging the unfaithful from among Islam's ranks as well. Such numbers, such monies and such weapons were available in China. If he could find a way to make some type of an accommodation with these principles of the "Three Wisdoms," then he could possibly form some sort of temporary, mutually-beneficial alliance of sorts with the G.o.dless Maoists, and thereby use them to help him accomplish the greater good.

To that end, in late 1999, near the end of his pilgrimage, Hasan spent three very productive weeks on the outskirts of Beijing in confidential preparations and planning, including several very productive sessions with President Jien Zenim of the People's Republic of China. Hasan had no illusions regarding the magnitude of their differences, but there was no denying that the Red Chinese knew how to manipulate people and systems. It was precisely his desire to benefit from their adroitness at manipulation that had brought Hasan to the table with the sitting Chinese President. The G.o.dless manipulations of the Chinese had served to bring about Allah's will with respect to Hasan himself. Those same manipulations would also reveal to him who was corrupted by influence and wealth over faith, and who would ultimately find that such corruption bought them nothing in this world-or the one to come.

Then in September of 2001, Usama bin Laden had surprised everyone with the effectiveness of his terror attack on America. Oh, they had all known something was going to be attempted; still the enormity of it and the successful nature of it had shocked the religious and political leaders throughout Islam.

"And that was just the problem," thought Hasan. That fool bin Laden had been too much the maverick.

Committed, dedicated to removing western influence, completely faithful...yes. But a maverick just the same, with no close ties to the clerics (outside of the fringe Taliban) and no real connections to Islamic political power. As such, the very surprise of his effectiveness was its undoing. No one was positioned or prepared to take advantage of it. Instead, many had to distance themselves from the very success bin Laden had achieved. Hasan himself had counseled the Iranian leaders.h.i.+p at the time to distance themselves from him, to walk a tight rope between how they were viewed by the ma.s.ses, versus how they were viewed by an American and coalition military machine they were not yet ready or able to face.

And it had worked. When bin Laden ultimately met his fate, when the Taliban was overthrown, when bin Laden's terror network was rooted out and destroyed, and when fools like Hussein had been defeated, it had left leaders like himself in the perfect position to pick up the reins.

"Imam Sayeed! Imam Sayeed!" chanted the Ayatollah Ol Osams, Mujtahids,Mullahs and other clerics of the s.h.i.+a Muslim faith, in near unison, as the official clerical recognition was made.

Upon hearing it, Hasan al-Askari Sayeed opened his eyes, nodded humbly and looked heavenward, as if seeking guidance, and his followers led him out of the recognition hall and toward their destiny.

May 6, 2005, 08:00 local time Politburo Beijing, China Li Peng, the leader of the Chinese parliament and a handpicked supporter of the president, served Jien Zenim well; not only at home in the "parliament," but as a "quasi" unofficial diplomat. This morning, Li watched as his President absorbed the morning's report regarding progress in Iraq.

"So," President Jien mused, "Hasan has already been named Imam...as of yesterday? This is wonderful!

We are ahead of schedule. Li, are our "friends" in place, and prepared, in the four former Soviet Republics-particularly Turkmenistan and Kyrgyzstan? And is there any chance that we can capitalize on this situation in order to obtain an earlier solution in Pakistan?"

Li had worked hard over the last several years nurturing the relations.h.i.+p his nation now enjoyed with India. It had taken a mixture of patience, prodding, compromise and hard negotiating, but he believed that the sterling achievement of his life had been the recent announcement of the formation of the Coalition of Asian States between The People's Republic of China and India. Now his other major area of focus for the past 10 years was also bearing fruit. A great Islamic coalition, which would find itself very indebted to The People's Republic, now seemed possible. Amazing that it would be so after the campaign by the Americans. But, the fact that it was so in spite of that campaign, was a testament to the effectiveness of their planning.

"President, I believe that we must be patient with Pakistan. The relations.h.i.+p with India is still young, and India's distrust of her neighbor to the west is long standing. Although we have made much progress, we need several more months before the Indian leaders will accept a unified Islamic Republic along their borders. I would suggest we proceed as your original plan indicated and ensure that the Pakistani agreement occurs after Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan and Afghanistan come on board."

"Then, if all goes as we hope with the Sunnis, it will either serve as the impetus for General Musharraf to see the wisdom of unification with the GIR, or it will serve as the spark for an "uprising" in Pakistan leading to the same, as you have envisioned."

Jien knew that Li was right, and agreed with his reasoning. He had chosen well in Li, and was certain of his loyalty and his capabilities. He trusted him, without reservation. Jien took great personal pride and satisfaction in his own ability to judge the character and capabilities of those with whom he came into contact. As a result, he allowed only those into his inner circle whom he knew to be loyal and committed to him, and to China, in that order.

May 15, 2005, 17:10 Lazy H Ranch Outside Montague, Texas Jess Simmons climbed down off his old Case tractor that he'd been using to cut hay all afternoon. He was tired and sweaty, but glad he had finished this field before supper. He thought about the fact that the bank had not approved the loan for the new air-conditioned John Deere. At 102 degrees in the shade, the straw hat and south wind just couldn't manage to fend off the heat; and if it was this hot in mid-May, it was going to be a real sweltering summer.

Now that it was cut, he'd let this hay sit a few days and dry out before he baled it. Later this evening, he'd start cutting that field south of the house. He'd rather work in the evening anyhow, after the heat had let up a little. If he kept after it, he could be finished putting up this cut of hay by "Sat.u.r.day week"Texan for "a week from Sat.u.r.day," which would allow him to finish well before the upcoming training exercises.

If the Mendoza brothers came through with their "extra" help from south of the border, he shouldn't have any trouble...that is, if the weather also cooperated, which was always an "iffy" thing this time of year in north-central Texas. As he wiped his brow and climbed into his ten-year-old F250 4X4 pickup to drive to the house, he thought about how good some cold iced tea would feel on his parched lips right about now.

As Cindy heard the back screen door close, she called, "Is that you, Jess?"

"Sure is, hon," Jess answered. "I'm going to have to go back out this evening for two or three hours after supper and start on that field south of the house. Whew! It was hot out there for a day in mid-May...what's for supper?"

"Well, I've got fried chicken, mashed potatoes and green beans, darlin.' Come on in and get some of this iced tea I made for you and cool yourself off before we eat. It'll be another five minutes or so,"

Cindy said as she began to lay out the silverware and place settings. As she thought about Jess going back out after supper, she continued, "You must have finished cutting the field over by Clear Creek then.

Did you see Billy? He was over that way with the dog, hunting. He was going to try and get a ride back to the house with you."

"Well," Jess said as he thought back on his cutting, "I did see the dog an hour or so ago. Looked like he was after something. Didn't see Billy, though. I imagine he'll be along in a little while. He isn't going to stay away from the dinner table for too long if he can help it. Doesn't he have any homework?"

With a little exasperated sigh, Cindy chided, "You know I have him finish up his schoolwork as soon as he gets home, along with the watering. He's a good boy and you know it...takes after his pa. He'd do it anyway without me reminding him. So he was okay. But I do wish you would talk to him about being on time for supper. It's best if we eat as a family, and it makes it a whole lot easier to keep this kitchen clean. Now come on in here and sit down to eat. Food's on."

Jess, who had picked up his gla.s.s of iced tea and quickly dispensed of it, walked back into the kitchen from the bathroom where he had washed his hands. As he sat down, he watched his wife of 18 years as she finished putting the food on the table. At 39, he thought she was still the best looking woman he'd ever set eyes on. He couldn't help but marvel at how she kept up with everything while riding herd on a seventeen-year-old boy, not to mention a forty-year-old boy, and tending a large vegetable garden for the family.

As she sat down, he took her hand. Without a word pa.s.sing between them, they both bowed their heads and Jess said, "Father, we thank Thee for this food and the hands that prepared it. We thank Thee for our freedoms, this home and the land we live on. Help us always be good stewards of the land so it can provide us a good harvest. Please bless the food to nourish us, and bless Billy to come back in safe.

In Jesus name, Amen."

As they ate, they discussed the ranch and the prospects that year for their crops and livestock. They discussed Billy, his upcoming graduation, his college plans this fall and his ultimate aspirations of following in his father's footsteps. When the time was right, Cindy asked, "So, you have everything lined up to get this cut in before those training exercises?"

Jess, sensing her apprehension, replied, "Sure do, and since Billy will be out of school, I have no doubt we can get it in. The Mendoza brothers are going to be helping as well. Besides, those exercises are only scheduled for ten days, and I'll be back before you know it. But enough about that. How was your day?

When we finish eating, what do you say I help you with the dishes? Then when Billy gets in and finishes eating, I can have him start that field south of the house, while you and I drive over to Bowie and take in a movie or something."

Cindy, moved to tears by her man's understanding and intuition, could only look into his eyes between bites of potatoes and say, "Jess, I love you!" Then she got up from the table and moved into the loving arms of her man, Jess Simmons, full-time rancher and part-time Major, U.S. Army National Guard-a well-trained pilot of his nation's newest and most sophisticated attack helicopter, an RAH-66 Comanche.

As they hugged, they heard the back screen door open and close, quickly followed by, "Mom and Dad, I'm home. What's to eat?"

May 19, 2005, 15:00 NSA Office Was.h.i.+ngton, D.C.

John Bowers quickly reviewed the two doc.u.ments he had put together for the signature of the President.

Both of the doc.u.ments were Presidential findings and would be used to "unofficially" authorize the covert missions being planned over the next several weeks to gather more information about the Naval Air exercises in Red China.

The first mission would be an over-flight of the Tanjin commercial s.h.i.+pyards by the ultra-sophisticated and top secret HR-7 (Hypersonic Reconnaissance) surveillance aircraft. These were supposedly commercial s.h.i.+pyards, but CIA HUMINT a.s.sets had tied an internal rumor about military applications to them. That over-flight was scheduled to take place on the 25th of May.

The second mission would take place in late June, when the US Navy was scheduled to send the SSN23 Jimmy Carter into the waters near the Shanghai s.h.i.+pyards and, depending on the outcome of the HR-7 mission, to those near Tanjin to conduct a covert mission. The Jimmy Carter had undergone significant modifications during its construction-modifications which included the addition of a wasp waist, which housed sophisticated underwater launch and recovery technology, suitable for use in SEAL and other cla.s.sified missions. This launch and recovery technology was made to order for just the type of mission that John and the naval planners had in mind.

Having reviewed the doc.u.ments and the careful construction of the wording, John was satisfied that "plausible deniability" for the President regarding the specifics of each mission was maintained. Getting up from his desk, which was somewhat cluttered due to the abnormally large number of commitments in which he was currently involved, John put the folder containing the proposed findings in his briefcase and left for his 3:30 p.m. meeting in the oval office.

May 21, 2005, early evening Near the Harold Was.h.i.+ngton Memorial Library Chicago, IL Alan Campbell could hardly believe his eyes, but it was true: there went his brother, Leon, into-of all places-the downtown Public Library!

"I wonda what he goin t' do in there," thought Alan. "It jus' don't make no sense! It jus' don't make no sense at all!"

Alan had been worried about his brother for some time now. Ever since Leon lost the vote to lead the "Heat" back in the hood about a year-and-a-half ago, Leon seemed to spend more and more time away.

The other bloods were talking, wondering if Leon had just "lost it," or maybe wondering if he was selling them out. Jerome, in particular, was getting a little too full of himself for Alan, even though Jerome was now the leader-and doing a fairly good job at managing both their territory and their "operations."

But still, every other day or so, Leon would just disappear from their "hood" on Kildare, a few blocks from the intersection of Roosevelt and Cisero. At first, several of them had tried to follow Leon, but he was on to them, and just too good at shakin' folks off his tail. That, among other reasons, was why he'd been the "man" for so long in the first place. Well, Alan hadn't given up. He had to know what his brother was doing, and where he was going. Leon had always been his idol and was a good brother, despite their inevitable differences. For them, as their momma had always taught them, the "blood was thicker than the mud."

So Alan had continued to follow, and had continued to get shook. But he'd had a "long term" plan and it was paying off this evening. He simply kept track of where he'd been shook each time. Sometimes a little further east, other times a little further north...but each time getting closer and closer to downtown. Oh, Leon was good, and used different routes, but still the pattern developed-and it had ultimately led right here to the Harold Was.h.i.+ngton Memorial Library.

As he waited, Alan reflected. Leon was seventeen years old. He'd dropped out of school at 14, and Alan, always wanting to follow in his big brother's footsteps, had dropped out just a year later when he was twelve. Alan was big for his age, and that fact, along with a lot of exercise, helped establish him in the "Heat" next to his brother. But things weren't the same anymore and tonight Alan was going to confront Leon and find out why.

May 21, 2005, same time Inside the Harold Was.h.i.+ngton Memorial Library Chicago, IL Inside the Library, Leon had just finished printing out the most important doc.u.ment to that point in his life. What he now held in his hand was more important than his suspended driver's license. It was much more important than the many citations, tickets, and complaints which he had received. It was more important that the juvenile court judgments he'd lived under while actively being a part of the "Heat."

What he held in his hand now was even more important than the High School Equivalency that he'd earned just eight weeks ago, and which he'd kept secret, but also kept with him wherever he went. Until today, earning that equivalency had been the proudest moment in Leon's entire seventeen years. But what Leon now held in his hand was, like his High School Equivalency, a "ticket" of a different sort. It was his ticket to a new life. It was the paperwork informing him that he had been accepted to Boise State University in Boise, Idaho that fall, and granting him a partial scholars.h.i.+p as well. Leon's excitement was hard to contain. And it was made doubly hard by the fact that he had only shared the source of it with two other human beings.

"Mrs. Jenkins, would you look here? Can you believe it? I'm really going, Mrs. Jenkins. My momma is going to be so proud! She always talked to us about finding a way to knock on opportunity's door.

She's told us since we were young that Jesus is waiting on the other side of that door to open it for anyone who is sincere and looking to follow His principles. Well, I finally started knocking on that door and He must have been standing there all along, just waiting to help me. I just wish I'd knocked on it a lot earlier."

Mrs. Nellie Jenkins was an elderly a.s.sistant Librarian. She'd been helping Leon for the last several months as he laboriously studied and learned. It had not been easy for him. She never asked about it, but she knew this young man must have come from a very rough part of town; it was obvious from the way he had carried himself, and talked, in those first months. But he had stuck with it, and she had been impressed. Her husband, Charlie, a retired Marine gunnery sergeant, had come in on several occasions and helped, too. He'd taken quite a liking to Leon, and was convinced that the boy had tremendous potential. While he focused on discipline, honor, and the history of America, and the vision of its founders, she focused on English, writing, math and science. Their hours of involvement with this young man had paid off. Right now, Nellie Jenkins was almost as proud of Leon as if he had been her own son.

"Leon, G.o.d bless you. You've worked hard for this, and you deserve to take pride in your accomplishment. Boise is a long way from Chicago. But, from everything I have heard and read, BSU is a fine school, and the partial scholars.h.i.+p is a G.o.dsend. In addition, Charlie and I want to give you this,"

Mrs. Jenkins said, as she pa.s.sed an envelope over to Leon.

Leon took it and looked for a moment at this old white woman who had helped him so much. He remembered the many times her husband had come in and helped him with history and government.

There was something about Charlie that Leon recognized and respected. Maybe he had tasted a little of it on the street, although he now knew that those street experiences had been pointing him in the wrong direction. Still, there was no doubting the qualities of leaders.h.i.+p and respect and honor that Charlie possessed, and Leon wanted those qualities to be a part of his life as well.

He opened the envelope and read the congratulations card and the personal notes from both Mrs.

Jenkins and Charlie, then he saw the check: a check made out to him for $5,000.

"Mrs. Jenkins, this is...I just don't know what to say. You really can't give this to me! How can you afford it?"

"Don't you worry about it, Leon. With Charlie's retirement pay, and what he brings in on the side, and with my own job here, we have more than we can use. Charlie told me that doing this will not only help you, it will help this country; and I agree with him. Just be sure to write to us often once you get settled in Boise. We figure this will help until you find a job and get on your feet."

With that, Mrs. Jenkins gave Leon a hug and pretended not to notice the glistening in his eye-or her own. When she was done, Leon put his acceptance letter and the notice for the partial scholars.h.i.+p in the f.a.n.n.y pack he carried with him everywhere he went, and walked over toward the stairs. As he started climbing, he turned and waved goodbye to his kindly benefactor.

May 21, 2005, five minutes later Outside the Harold Was.h.i.+ngton Memorial Library Chicago, IL "Hey, blood! Wha'cha doin in there wit all dem crackers fo' so long?"

Leon would recognize that voice anywhere, and turned in surprise toward the voice coming from across the street. Sure enough, there was his younger (couldn't call him little anymore) brother, Alan, leaning against a street lamp on the other side. Leon crossed over to join him.

"Alan, how did you get here? I know I been shakin' yo' sorry black hide for the last three months.

How'd ya do it?"

"Was simple, bro. You shook me every time, but every time we's getting closa to somethin,' and I noticed a pattern. All's I had to do was let dat pattern lead me here...and now here we is. You gonna tell me what's hangin'?"