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the steps over there for the rest of this because this is really going to hurt.”
Seige sat on the steps with his head bowed.
“I hate to say this, Seige, but your sons are dead.”
“God! Both of them?” he cried.
“I would give anything for it not to be true. But I’m afraid it is. “Somehow I knew,” he muttered with tears flowing. “This
damn Blue Heaven is out of control. I knew it would be costly, but I just never really thought it would take such a toll.”
Visara walked closer, sat and hugged him. Seige opened up and began to cry.
“All my life I’ve felt like a crusader for evil, and I’m starting to understand why God reserved vengeance for himself.”
“Tell me why,” Visara said.
“Because no matter what solution you bring against evil it eventually it infects you. The blood of the innocent is always at stake in paying the ultimate price.”
“But where would we be without any solution?”
“Good question! My great-grandmother once told me that two things are reserved for God, vengeance and absolution. She said that only God gives absolution because he is the only one who can create from nothing. Man merely modifies already exist- ing concepts and elements then marvels in his own magnificence as if he has created. Not a single thing he does is original. In order to take away with vengeance, you must be able to create from nothing, and man does not have that ability. Please tell me the rest of my family is okay.
“They are,” Visara acknowledged. “Sky has them.”
“What happened?”
“I was on the way to your house when I called you. I jumped
out of my car, ran to your front porch, and heard a scream as the back door slammed. When I ran to the backyard, a woman was about to kill Sienna.”
“Did you recognize her?”
“Yes. Her codename in Interpol’s files is Ciba.”