Date: Wed, 18 Dec 1996 20:32:55 -0700 (MST) From: "Katherine R. Freymuth" Subject: Coup d'Etat - Chapter 19 Message-ID: MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII Chapter 19: A Matter of Time Thomas Beckett rubbed his eyes as he sat in his desk chair. It had been one hell of a day. He had looked at dozens of files on his computer, trying to find the information he needed. If he was going to find out what happened to Admiral and Captain Calavicci, he was going to need a lot more information than what his computer was giving him.. He sighed. The whole thing would be a lot more simple if he didn't feel so compelled to be directly involved with it. He pressed a button on the intercom on his desk. "Lieutenant, has there been any word from our agent?" "Negative, sir," replied a male voice. "Great," Tom said sarcastically. "Thank you, Lieutenant." "Aye, sir," came the response. Tom took a breath and closed his eyes. It was all wrong: an agent missing, an admiral dead, an unsolved murder of a prostitute whose death was caused by a standard military pistol, 10,000 shares of America Online, and Al's and Beth's disappearances. They were all connected with ex-General Albert Whitefeather Burke but Tom wasn't sure how. He looked at the time. 1702 hours. It was getting close to quitting time. In fact, many of the staff had probably gone home already. He knew he should be getting home himself but he knew he couldn't. Not yet. Not until he did one thing. "Lieutenant," he said, pressing the intercom button again. "Yes, sir?" "Why don't you go home now? I'll see you in the morning." "Aye, sir. Thank you, sir." A few minutes later, Tom knew he was alone. He pulled himself closer to his desk and turned towards his viewphone. He typed a sequence of numbers which, in turn, connected him with a security field. He typed in his access code. "I hope someone's home to answer the phone," he said aloud, mostly to himself. "I hate leaving messages." ************************ Major Taylor entered Dr. Beckett's office and saluted, waiting for a return salute from Burke who remained seated at the desk. Burke returned the salute as expected. "What is it, Major?" Burke asked firmly. "A message from a Naval admiral, General," Taylor told him. "For Admiral Calavicci." If Burke had been relaxed before, he was not tense. "What?" "A message for Admiral Calavicci," Taylor repeated. "It broke through all of our access barriers in the communication system. Whoever it is, he must be pretty high on the Naval payroll to get through." "Or he's exceedingly clever. Or both," Burke added. "What was the message?" "It was encoded," Taylor replied. She looked at him carefully. "General, someone knows what we're up to." "Major, you are jumping to conclusions," Burke reprimanded. "However, it may be wise to allow Calavicci to see his message and respond to it. Of course, it will be necessary to monitor him and his response." "Shall I take care of it, sir?" Burke smiled. "Yes, do so. And give me a complete report." "Yes, sir," Taylor replied, enthusiasm in his voice. ************************ Al was sitting on a couch in his quarters, a pensive look on his face, when Beth came in. She stopped when she saw Al and smiled. It was good to see that he was safe. The smile faded a bit. She didn't like the worried look on his face. "Al, what's wrong?" she asked gently. Al looked up quickly. "Oh, Beth. I didn't hear you come in." He saw the concerned look on her face. "Is something wrong?" "I just asked you the same question." Al took a breath. "I don't think I should tell you yet. Not here anyway." Beth also took a breath. She sat down beside her husband. "Afraid the room is bugged?" "Aren't you?" Al replied. Beth nodded. She sighed. There was a moment of quiet. "Gawd, I hope the girls are okay." Al put his arm around her shoulder. "I'm sure they're fine. Besides, they're probably just as worried about us as we are about them." At that moment, the quarter's door opened, startling both Al and Beth. They looked towards the door with fearful anticipation. Major Taylor immediately closed the door after she entered. "Admiral, we have received a message for you from an Admiral Beckett. General Burke thought it would be wise to allow you to see it." Beth looked at Al with curiosity. "From Tom?" Al was glaring at Taylor slightly. "What's the message about?" "I haven't seen it yet, sir," Taylor told him. "Let's both find out." She extended her hand, showing the small CD she held. Al looked at the disk for a moment and then stood up. "I guess there's no chance of me seeing this in private." Taylor walked up to the desk upon which there was a computer terminal. "Alone? Not a chance," she replied as she put her hand underneath the desk and came up with a thin wire which she promptly cut. Al's and Beth's eyes widened. "On the other hand...," Taylor continued as she walked to the other side of the room. She raised herself on the couch, pulled out another wire, and cut it as well. "... you'll get all the privacy that you need," she finished with a smile. She walked up to Al and saluted. "Lieutenant Commander Genine Strickler at your service, Admiral." Al returned the saluted tentatively. "You're Navy?" he asked, more to understand what was happening than to try to trip her up. "Naval Intelligence, sir," she told him. "I've been assigned to investigate General Burke. There are several incidences which we believe are connected to Burke and I've just confirmed several. However, I haven't been able to contact Admiral Beckett with my findings. Apparently, Admiral Beckett has decided to do his own legwork." She gave him the disk. "I'm sure the Admiral will confirm who I am, sir." "And the wires?" Al asked, indicating the desk and the ceiling. "I planted them myself, sir," she told him. "You can understand, sir, the importance of keeping one's cover." "Of course," Al said, flipping the disk from one side to the other. He sat at the desk and slipped the disk into the disk drive in his computer. "What about computer lines?" "Burke can't get anything directly off of the terminals, sir. Your main computer is seeing to that. As for messages going out, they need to be timed with Dr. Beckett's time fluxes or Burke will catch them instantly." Al clicked up the message. "You're very good, Commander." He entered his access number, allowing him to decode the message. "Thank you, sir." A moment later, Tom Beckett's image appeared on the computer screen. "Hello, Admiral," Tom said on the screen. He took a breath. "As you can probably tell from my greeting, this isn't a social call. My guts tell me that you're at Project Quantum Leap and so are your wife, General Albert Whitefeather Burke, and our agent. I regret I can't say much about Burke. If I'm right, you probably know more about him than I do. Sufficed to say, he's a very dangerous man. "About two months ago, a prostitute was found dead in her apartment in Washington, D.C." A picture of the said prostitute appeared on the screen. Al recognized her immediately. She was the same one that he had seen when he went after Leon Stiles less than a year ago. "She was killed with one bullet in her forehead and, from the lack of clothing on her, it was obvious that she had sexual relations before she died. The gun that killed her was a standard issue military pistol, a type common to Naval Vietnam veterans. Eyewitnesses described a man, whose description closely matches Burke, leaving the apartment building. Before we could lay our hands on Burke, he disappeared. "We've been tracking Burke for a very long time, given his odd-behavior after the Cuban annexation. I had assigned an agent to find Burke and bring him in. The last I heard from her, she had found a lead to Burke: a mysterious advertisement asking for mercenaries. She disappeared shortly afterwards. "We then got some unexpected information about an incident in Omaha. In 1986, a young clerk made an error and purchased 10,000 shares of America Online under Burke's name. Though the problem was quickly resolved, it influenced Burke to purchase the shares already in his name. Neither Burke nor the bank clerk lay claim to knowing each other. "Then you and Beth disappeared. "Al, I'm not sure you'll get this message but, if you do, find our agent. Her name is Lieutenant Commander Strickler. Talk to her. Plan together. Let me know what's going on. I don't want to be the one to tell your daughters something happened to you two. Be careful." The screen went blank. Al turned to Strickler with authority. "Well, Lieutenant Commander, let's make plans." ************************ Harry Stark stretched as he stood from his military issue bunk in his assigned quarters, He was getting tired of playing soldier. He wanted to go back to what he was doing before he got into this whole mess - betting on fixed boxing games and playing pool at the local bar, usually winning a pretty penny while he was at it. Not that he didn't like being a mercenary. He loved it. It brought him easy money quickly with little hassle. But this was getting ridiculous. Already a month had passed and none of them had actually seen the money promised them for the job. What was more, the resentment wasn't just Harry's and Harry knew it. All of the mercenaries felt tired and cheated - everyone except Burke's army cronies: Colonel Stewart, Major Taylor, Captain Howell, and the others. Harry showered and dressed. Dr. Calavicci and Dr. MacArthyr had found him to be such a great help in the infirmary. Therefore, they requested Burke to allow him to remain in the infirmary as an orderly. Burke had no reason to disapprove but he nonetheless had Harry watched by Taylor for a couple of days just to be safe. Harry stepped out of his quarters in time for Taylor to escort Dr. Calavicci from her quarters to the infirmary. *This place is getting to be worse than San Quentin!* Harry thought as he followed the two to the infirmary. He followed them in and, after Taylor relieved the evening guard, proceeded to follow Beth into the operating room. Inside, he changed into a lab coat, preferring not to wear his fatigues jacket. As he and Beth entered the room, Taylor followed. "Admiral Calavicci tells me you're a man of discretion," Taylor said casually. "I like to think of myself in that way, ma'am. Though why he pointed me out, I have no idea," Harry replied suspiciously. Beth smiled. "Harry, you can speak freely here. Genine assures me there are no wires or bugs here." Genine nodded. "That's right. The room is clean." Harry hesitated. *This is too weird!* he thought. *The wicked witch and Dr. Calavicci are collaborating?* "Harry," Beth said softly. "I know you're confused but just listen to her. She's on our side." "On our side?" Harry questioned. "She's 'His Majesty's' imperial guard!" "Ever heard of a spy?" Taylor put in. "Now, listen. I have a proposal for you that I think will be beneficial. I want you to gather five people you know you can trust and then I want you to meet us in Staff Lounge 2A at three o'clock tomorrow night." "What are you driving at?" Harry wondered with suspicion. "Just do it, Harry," Beth pleaded. "And keep it quiet. Just let them know this is their chance to get their big payoff." Harry's eyes went from Beth to Genine and back. "Okay?" Beth asked. "Okay," Harry answered thoughtfully. "Okay. Now, let's get to work," Beth told him. "We still have a few patients to tend." --------------------------------------- Want to know more? Well, you'll just have to wait a little while. Chapter 20's next. Rob and Katherine Freymuth