Disclaimer: I do not own anything recognizable from either Mag7 or Glee. I also don't own the ATF AU (I think MOG does). I am just borrowing to play! (Disclaimer good for all chapters…just in case I forget to post it!) One of my reviewers expressed a desire for me to have the guys profile some of the other Gleeks. That won't be happening in this story, but I've been thinking of doing a couple of one-shot sequels, and my plot bunnies like the idea. Also, I would like to note that I mean no disrespect to either the Islamic religion or the majority of Muslims around the world. I have known many men and women who are worshippers of Allah and follow the teachings of Muhammad. They have been wonderful people to know and interact with. That said, I do have problems with the radicals who feel that terrorism and the murder of innocents in the name of God is a good thing…and this goes for anyone who commits these acts under ANY name of God – Yahweh, Jesus, Allah, or any other. Evil is evil – regardless of whose name it is committed under.
Ice, Ice Baby began to play, startling the teenagers and waking the agents. Rachel snatched up her phone to answer it. Standing up, she walked a few feet away from her friends to listen.
"Yes, Mr. Schue? Yes, they are here with us. No, we are quite all right. Of course, I will let them know. Yes, sir. I promise one of us will have the phone at all times."
Chris rolled his eyes as he listened to the one-sided conversation. When Buck raised an eyebrow in question, the blond leader shrugged in irritation.
"Fine time to start checking on kids he's responsible for. She's what? Fifteen? I don't think any of them are much older. In an unfamiliar airport, surrounded by untold numbers of strange people? He waits over an hour before calling to check on them? What was he going to do if she didn't answer or hadn't seen her friends? It wouldn't take much more for these crowds to snap and start panicking. A disappearing kid would do that."
Josiah nodded.
"The people here are tired and cranky. Worse, they're trapped and uncomfortable. They want to get out, go home, or on their vacation. Even more dangerous yet, they're bored," the profiler warned. "That means they'll latch onto anything right now, exciting, dangerous – it doesn't matter. One wrong word or action and we'd have a mob, a panic, or a stampede depending on the situation."
Before anyone could answer, a man walked in through the door and stopped in surprise. Dressed in an airport maintenance uniform, he carried a backpack and a small toolbox. Something about him drew the eyes of everyone present – something was off.
Puck's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Rachel, come on back. Let's get out of the guy's way."
Ezra had opened his eyes as silence fell and looked around. His gaze focused on the newcomer. Frowning, he sat up slightly, titling his head in consideration. It was obvious the man had not expected to find them there, and his face had a strange mix of anger and concern painted across it. However, a different issue held Ezra's attention. He leaned towards Chris. The blond leader tilted his head towards his undercover agent.
"Why the backpack and a toolbox?" the Southerner asked, his voice soft, barely a breath of a whisper.
A chill ran down Chris' back and his lips folded in concern. As he centered his gaze on the stranger, he could sense Vin moving around on the floor. In an attempt to distract the man from what Vin was doing, he rose to his feet and took a step forward.
"Need something?" he asked, an icy chill lacing his voice.
The man gave a small smile, but his eyes brightened with a touch of madness. Out of the corner of his eye, Chris saw Puck stand up slowly and begin reaching out even as Santana pushed the other three behind her. Before Puck's hand could make contact with Rachel, the newcomer dropped his bag and toolbox. He pulled out a gun and pointed it directly at the girl.
The room froze.
The stranger laughed. "You will listen to me! All of you!"
"Yes, of course," said Josiah, coming up beside Chris and stepping out in front. He spread his hands out in a gesture of peace. His calm, deep voice filled the room with its resonance. "Let's all calm down for a moment. There's no reason to hurt anybody. I'm willing to listen to you."
The man gave him a superior smirk.
"You talk very well, but you are concerned with the girl. You are not interested in me."
"Yes, I am concerned about the girl. I don't want to see her get hurt. That doesn't mean I'm not interested in you. Please tell me your story."
The man's eyes grew even brighter and he shifted to look more closely at Josiah. His hand lowered slightly, and Rachel took a step backwards. She froze when the man's eyes snapped back at her. He stared at her through narrowed eyes for a long moment before waving her off. She backed up slowly, watching him, waiting to see if he would point the gun at her again. Finally she got within Puck's reach and he pulled her back, tucking her in behind him.
"You think you are so clever," the man snarled turning towards Josiah. "You will talk and talk until someone comes or one of you shoots me. Do you think I do not know who you are? I have lived in Denver for many months now. You, the 'Magnificent Seven', I have seen you in the papers. So, you may have me? So what? My duty is finished."
The men exchanged sidelong glances while the teens just watched in confusion. A clap of thunder shook the walls and the armed man gave everyone a big, scary smile. The entire room froze at his next words.
"Fire was going to rain from the sky. Four planes, four bombs; the storm stopped everything. Allah is merciful. This is better. All these people; all these kaffirs running around and they are trapped here like mice. No one can go out into the storm, and the cleansing fires will take them all!"
As the man, now revealed as a terrorist not just some local that had snapped, looked around the room, taking in the horrified faces of the teenagers, Chris glanced at JD. "Find them," he said softly, too softly for the terrorist to hear him.
JD gave a tiny nod and slipped back, half hidden by Josiah's bulk to reach his laptop. Glancing up to make sure the terrorist was paying no attention; he sat on the floor and began typing furiously, but quietly on his computer. As he worked frantically to hack into airport security, he tried to ignore the ravings the man had begun to indulge in.
Chris waited as Ezra and Josiah continued to keep the man's attention, talking to him and taking his abuse in stride. They had to buy time for Vin to get in position. In addition, they were trying to keep him distracted so he did not pay attention to either JD's hurried work on the computer or Buck and Nathan trying to slide closer to the teens. Out of the corner of his eye, Chris watched as Puck eased backwards, forcing his friends to do the same. He had to admire the kid – he was keeping a level head during all of this.
Vin spoke softly, "Chris, I can't get a shot."
Chris scowled, his eyes scanning the room for something, anything he could use to improve this situation before it all went to hell.
Suddenly, the terrorist threw back his head and gave a blood-curdling scream.
"Allahu Akbar!"
Even as the agents began to move, he raised the gun. He fired three wild shots around the room causing everyone to duck before he turned the gun on himself. With his final shot, he took his secrets into the final darkness of death.
"Damn!" Chris fumed, climbing back to his feet. "JD, find those bombs!"
"I'm working on it!" exclaimed the young agent, his finger flying even more furiously over the keyboard.
A shrill, terrified scream rang out.
"Oh my God! Rachel!"