PROLOGUE
There's
a somebody I'm longing to see
I hope that he turns out to be
Someone who'll watch over me
I'm a little lamb who's lost in the wood
I know I could always be good to
One who'll watch over me.
Although he may not be the man some
Girls think of as handsome
To my heart he carries the key!
Won't you tell him please to put on some speed?
Follow my lead, oh, how I need
Someone to watch over me!
“Someone
to Watch Over Me”
Lyrics
and Music by
George
and Ira Gershwin
The
mind-bending twisting turning of the leap in always seemed to catch Sam
off-guard even under the best of circumstances. He never knew where or
when he would leap, which was disorienting enough in his opinion. But when
the leap in was like this one, it was all the worse. As reality met him,
he felt a not quite hard and yet quite large object collide with him. His
eyes widened in surprise as he realized that he was on his way to kiss the
floor.
He
tried to catch himself from falling but instead found the same not-so-hard
object, which gave a peculiarly feminine squeal as he pulled it down with
him. Without any success in preventing it, he hit the floor hard, causing
him to wince.
When
he finally opened his eyes, he got a good look at the not-so-hard object
that he had brought down with him. The look on the woman’s face was that
of pure anger. What was worse, he found that the woman was actually nearly
completely underneath him.
“Would
you get off of me, you clumsy oaf?!” the woman demanded, pushing him
away from her.
Even
as Sam tried to right himself, the only thing he could say was a familiar
two-word phrase.
“Ohh,
boy!”
PART
ONE
Washington,
D.C.
Monday,
May 8th, 2006
11:58
AM EST
“Please,
let me....” Sam started as he stood reaching out a hand towards the
woman he had inadvertently toppled.
“Let
you what? Continue to flail around and hurt me some more? I
think not,” the woman said, aggravated. Knocking the proffered hand
away, she stood up on her own, straightening her skirt as she did so.
“You would think that people in this building would know how to look
where they were going.”
Sam
couldn't help but cringe at her words. He wasn't sure exactly where he was
just yet but, from the way the woman was speaking, this was the one place
where people would know how to walk. Looking at her doing her best to
gather her papers from the floor, he leaned down as well and began to
gather them up with her.
“Please
forgive me, ma'am. I didn't see you and I surely...”
“That's
quite obvious or we wouldn't have been sprawled out on the floor.”
Sam
sighed and shook his head good-naturedly before he smiled. “Yes,
ma'am.” But with the way that his words came out from his smile, he had
a feeling that they didn't come out in the way that he meant.
She
growled under her breath, snatching papers from his grasp before standing
erect. “Just watch your step next time,” she told him before huffing
in frustration as she looked at her wristwatch. “Just great,” she said
sarcastically. “Five minute window and I miss it, thanks to you.” She
sighed again and then leaned against the wall. “I should have never
retired from the Navy. At least the Navy didn’t have me running around
Washington looking for a Senator who will only be able to see me within a
five-minute window. This is insane!”
Sam
empathized with the woman leaning against the wall. “Honestly, I'm
sorry,” he said once more.
The
woman shook her head slightly. “It's okay. It’s not really your fault.
It’s just been… one of those days. Besides, it's probably a pointless
meeting anyway. I'll just make arrangements later,” she told the man who
had been more than kind even against the best attitude that she could give
out. “I suppose I should apologize too. I was in too much of a hurry to
notice where I was going. May I make it up to you? I haven't eaten lunch
yet.” She chuckled slightly. “And I can just imagine what my mom would
say if I was rude enough not to ask you to join me.”
“I
accept,” Sam told her with a smile.
She
extended her hand to him. “Captain Julianna Sherman-Calavicci,” she
introduced herself with a gentle smile.
Sam
couldn’t help but smile through his surprise. With a last name like
Sherman-Calavicci, it was obvious that this woman was none other than one
of Al’s daughters. Seeing her look directly into his eyes, he blinked
and reached out to take her hand gingerly. “Very nice to meet you,
Captain. I'm...”
“Senator
Blaize! Senator Blaize!” someone called out and Sam turned his head to
see a middle-aged man come running up to him. “Senator Blaize! You're
needed in the meeting. Did you forget about it? Excuse me, ma'am. The
Senator needs to leave... now.”
Sam
looked between Julianna and the man who had obviously come to retrieve him
before facing Julianna again. “It was a pleasure, Captain
Sherman-Calavicci,” he told her with a smile. “Umm… listen. Perhaps
I'll take you up on that offer later. If you'll check in my office with my
secretary, I'll meet you for dinner... my treat,” he said as he started
off, practically being pulled away.
Julianna
stared with surprise, watching Sam as the man - probably his aide -
started to pull him away. Somehow, she managed to say one sentence before
the Senator was out of her sight.
“I
don't think that'll be a problem,” she murmured. Shaking her head, she
started towards the exit, her stomach rumbling in protest of a lack of a
meal.
Sam
looked confused and more than a little lost while he sat at the conference
table, listening to the banter that was occurring in front of him. Sure,
he'd had his share of meetings with Congressmen and Senators but that was
on the other side of the table. In Sam’s opinion, the meeting went as
sour as sour could be and he was more than grateful when it was at last
adjourned, allowing him to leave the meeting with the hope that he
hadn’t just ruined Senator Blaize’s reputation. As he left the room,
he noticed Al on the other side of the hallway, seemingly leaning against
the wall.
“Where
have you been?” he hissed at Al. “I just spent two hours in that room
trying to at least look like I understood what was going on. I really
could have used your help, you know!”
“Sorry,
Sam,” Al said quietly, starting to walk along the hallway. “I got here
as soon as I could. The… the guy in the Waiting Room thinks an angel
took him away to save him from that meeting you just came out of.”
“Well,
he isn’t far from the truth if what I just heard in there is any
indication.” Sam sighed slightly. “Al… what am I here to do?” The
moment that Al turned to him and gave him a look, Sam stopped and just
clamped his mouth shut for a moment. When Al didn't start to answer
his questions, Sam started over again. “All right, Al. What
do you have? ”
Al
hesitated to answer him right away, knowing that Sam wasn’t going to
like what he was going to say. “Your name is Senator Tuyen Van
Blaize…”
“Twen?”
Sam questioned with a frown. “From the nameplate in that conference
room, it looks like it’s pronounced ‘two-yen’.”
“Yeah,
well, it’s ‘twen’. Trust me. Anyway,” Al continued, giving Sam a
slight frown for the interruption, “you’re from the State of
California and you’re…” He frowned again, avoiding Sam’s eyes,
“you’re a North Vietnamese immigrant. You… I mean Blaize… left
Vietnam with his mother when he was only ten years old. His father, one
Kendall Blaize, was an African-American G.I. who…” Al sighed, “who
was killed three months after Blaize was born. It’s currently…” He
hit the side of the handlink as he squinted at the screen, “May 8th,
2006.” He paused when he read the date and frowned a little. “The day
of that incident in Hope Springs.” He shivered physically, unsure why
May 8th, 2006, gave him the serious heebie jeebies, before continuing.
“And you are currently in the Capitol Building in Washington, D.C. As
for why you are here… well, Ziggy… Ziggy isn't quite sure, yet.
She’s thinking that you are here just to... hold down the fort until she
can figure out exactly what it is that you are here to do.”
“Then
why is Julianna here?”
“Julianna
is here?” Al questioned, looking around with a frown. “Where?”
“Well,
she isn’t here now. But she
was here. What's going on with her? This is your past, right, Al? I
mean, you would know... wouldn't you?” he asked with a questioning look. If
anyone should know why someone in Al’s family was here, Al would know.
Wouldn't he?
“Uh...”
Al started before consulting the handlink and then looking back at him.
Sam gave him one of those 'I don't believe this!' looks before Al again
focused on the handlink and confessed, “I don't know why Julianna is
here.”
Sam
rolled his eyes.
“Sam,
she left nearly four years ago to get herself together,” Al told him,
looking at him again. “She was pretty messed up emotionally, what with a
miscarriage, her fiancé leaving her, a difficult childbirth…” He
stopped a moment, glancing slightly at Sam before adding, in a murmur,
“Unrequited love…” He took a deep breath and looked at Sam plainly.
“So, she went off in search of herself with her little boy Jude. I knew
she was on the east coast for a while and I knew she was in D.C. but, as
far as I knew, she was working as a freelance security consultant. Why
she’d be wandering around these halls…” He raised the handlink once
again. “Besides, you aren’t here for her. You’re here to hold the
fort while I talk to Blaize and we try to figure out why you are here.”
“Why
don’t you ask Ziggy if I’m here for Julianna?” Sam insisted.
Al
glared at him. “I did, Sam. See?” He raised the handlink for Sam to
read. “Only a forty-three percent chance you’re here for Julianna.”
“Well,
then, why is she here if I’m not here for her?” Sam countered.
Al
huffed in frustration. “You know, there is such a thing as a
coincidence, Sam. Not everything in this world happens because God, Fate,
Time, or Whatever wants you to fix it. Besides,” he added with a little
bit of a cringe, “the last person Jules needs to be around is the likes
of Blaize.”
Sam
did a bit of a double take. “Care to enlighten me on why you are so all
totally certain that her being near me... Blaize... or having anything to
do with him would be dangerous for her? Or are you just basing their
proximity or possible future interactions on your own enlightened
experiences with politicians?”
Al
crossed his arms and glared at Sam at his words. “My feelings concerning
my daughter and whom she chooses to be with in any capacity has nothing to
do with this leap, Sam, nor does it have anything to do with Tuyen Van
Blaize’s chosen profession,” he told him bluntly. “Now... do you
want me to help you to Blaize's office or would you rather walk around
looking like a little lost puppy for the rest of the leap?”
For
a few seconds, Sam toyed with the idea of just walking back into the
building and having the receptionist at the main desk call a cab for him.
But he also considered the fact that if the Senator had driven himself, it
would be foolish to not return to his office in the same manner he...
Blaize... had left it.
“Yes,
help me to his office,” Sam finally said then immediately added before a
satisfied smirk could come across the Observer's face, “But only if you
agree to at least try to keep an open mind where Blaize is concerned.”
“I
always have an open mind, Sam,” Al told him plainly. Somehow, even
though Sam accepted Al’s help, the Admiral’s words didn’t ring true
in Sam’s ears.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Washington, D.C.
Sunday,
May 7th, 2006
1:30
PM EST
Julianna
Contessa Sherman-Calavicci, former Captain of the United States Navy,
slowly walked into the small restaurant, holding the hand of her only son.
Wearing a pair of jeans with a United States Navy t-shirt and her hair
pulled back into a thick ponytail, one would have thought that she was
simply there to feed herself and her son, Jude Albert – he was going to
be four years old in only a month. Julianna’s intentions, however, were
quite different. Although she enjoyed this particular restaurant for its
great Italian food, food was the furthest thing from her mind.
The
phone call had come as a surprise to her. She hadn’t expected to hear
from her ex-fiancé, Thomas Henson, much less be asked to meet him for
lunch at the restaurant they had frequented while they were dating. He
didn’t explain why he was in Washington, D.C.; he had moved to Bangor to
live with his current wife and had gotten a job as an airline pilot.
Whatever the reason for the invitation to lunch, Julianna had a bad
feeling about this meeting.
Looking
around the restaurant carefully, she saw Thomas sitting on the far side of
the restaurant, his hands folded on top of the table. Carefully, she
guided Jude through the restaurant and just stood at the edge of the
table. She looked with questioning at the man she thought she would never
see again.
“Hello,
Thomas,” she greeted without anything other than courtesy.
Thomas
turned his head towards her before giving her a small smile. “Hello,
Julianna. It’s… it’s good to see you again.” His eyes caught sight
of the small boy holding her hand. “And you must be my little Jude.”
Jude
moved closer to his mother, not saying a word as he stared at the strange
man who knew his name. He recognized the man from the pictures he had seen
of him, but he wasn’t sure that he liked actually being addressed by
him.
Thomas
frowned slightly at his son’s reaction and looked up at Julianna. “You
didn’t tell him about me?”
Jules
gave him a little glare. “Of course, I did, Thomas. But the only times
he’s ever seen you were in pictures.”
Thomas’
eyes grew soft at her words before nodding. “Of course,” he said
quietly. “Umm… have… have a seat,” he offered. “I haven’t
ordered yet. I figured I’d wait until you arrived.”
Jules
didn’t move for a long moment before she exhaled and coaxed her son into
the booth, following him in. “Water, please,” she told the waitress
who came up. “And a chocolate milk for my son.”
She
and Thomas made small talk while the waitress was away getting the drinks.
But once Jude had his milk and a toy in his hands, Julianna could no
longer just make nonsensical conversation.
“Thomas,”
she finally said softly, “you have something on your mind. So, why
don’t you just come out and say what it is rather than wasting our
time?”
He
gave a little smirk at her words. “You never did mince words,” he
commented with a shake of his head. “I’m concerned, Julianna.”
“About
what?”
“About
Jude and the environment he’s being raised in,” he said bluntly,
gaining a startled look from the woman he had almost married. “Jules,
you have to admit that a growing boy needs his father.”
“I
don’t know,” Julianna countered. “Stephen Beckett seems to be a
well-adjusted boy.”
Thomas
shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Beckett again.”
“What’s
that supposed to mean?” she demanded with indignation.
“Your
infatuation with that man is what broke us up in the first place,
Julianna, so don’t act so damn full of yourself.”
“Did
I mention Sam? Seems to me I’m not the one with the Beckett fixation.
I’ve gotten over Sam but apparently you haven’t.”
“Hey,
I’m not the one who was calling out his name in the middle of the night.
Remember?” Seeing Julianna gasp slightly and noticing the attention they
were attracting, Thomas took a deep breath and lowered his voice.
“Jules, please, I didn’t ask you to come all the way down here just to
get into an argument with you.”
“No,
you just came all the way down from Maine to lecture me on my parenting
skills and to open old wounds,” Julianna berated with underlying anger.
“Julianna…”
Thomas started frustration clear in his voice. He exhaled and shook his
head. “Let’s… let’s start all over. Okay?” He took the silence
from his former lover as consent to his suggestion. “What… what I’m
saying is… I think Jude would be far better with Heidi and me. He’d
have all of Maine as his back yard, the best schools in the country…”
“Are…
are you saying you want to take my son from me?” Jules asked with a
frown of disbelief.
Thomas
leaned forward, determination suddenly covering his face. “I am saying
that I have a right to raise my son, Julianna. I have the right to make
sure that he is raised in a healthy and stable environment with people who
will love him.”
“He
already has that. And he has it without your help.”
“You
call being put into daycare five days out of the week stable? You call
that…” He lowered his voice to avoid being overheard. “…that
complex healthy for a growing boy? What about you? What do you do for a
living, Julianna? What kind of steady work does a freelance security
consultant get?”
Jules
glared at him in a way that would make generals think twice. “I do very
well, thank you very much, and Jude is well-cared for. What about you,
Thomas? What kind of man leaves his pregnant fiancée and runs off with
some floozy he met in a bar? What kind of steady schedule does an airline
pilot get? Jude would be spending his childhood being raised by his
father’s wife - who doesn’t even want children - because his father is
too busy flying all over the whole damn world to raise his own son!”
“At
least he wouldn’t be breathing recycled or polluted air all through his
childhood,” Thomas told her bluntly before huffing and turning slightly
towards his briefcase, which sat beside him on the booth seat. “This is
getting us nowhere. I should have listened to my lawyer and just mailed
the papers but, no, I had to see you again.” He looked at the little boy
and his face softened. “I had to see my son.” He sighed. “Listen, I
wish it didn’t have to come to this, Jules. I really do. But it’s
obvious that you just aren’t willing to listen to reason.” Pulling out
a small stack of papers, he presented them over to Julianna. “I’m
suing you for custody of our son.”
Julianna
didn’t reach for the papers. Instead, she stared at him for a long
moment, shock plain on her face, before she could say a word. “What?”
she whispered, her voice reflecting the fight-or-flight reaction that had
become almost instinctive for her.
“You’ve
left me with no other choice,” he told her bluntly. “You’re
completely irrational, you refuse to even allow me to take him back with
me to Bangor…”
“Because
you have no right to him!” Jules replied vehemently. “You abandoned us
when we needed you the most. Instead of helping me with my emotional
problems, you ran away and while I was still pregnant! What kind of
responsible parent is that?”
Seeing
that Julianna wasn’t going to accept the papers, he set them down in
front of her and stood up. “I’m not going to sit here and argue about
this with you, Jules. I want my son and I intend to take him home with me
to Bangor.” Gathering his briefcase and his jacket, he looked into
Julianna’s eyes firmly. “I suggest you find a good lawyer, Jules.
You’re going to need it.” Without waiting for a reply, he left the
restaurant while Julianna sat with her son, dumbfounded at the sudden turn
of events in their lives.
“Mama?”
Jude’s obviously frightened voice broke through her fog. “I don’t
like him. He’s mean.”
It
took Julianna a moment to realize that her heated conversation had
affected her son as well. Jude had always been a shy, sensitive child.
While Julianna never coddled him, she was all too aware, at the moment,
that her son needed some reassurance that everything was okay. Hell, she
needed reassurance herself. She couldn’t lose Jude. She was certain that
she’d die if anything should happen to her only child.
Reaching
over, she hugged him gently and rubbed his back to help clear the fright
away. Then, once her own mind was settled that his fears were relieved,
she pulled out her cell phone and start dialing a well-memorized telephone
number. She needed to talk to someone… and her father seemed like the
right person to talk to.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Freedom,
New Hampshire
Saturday,
April 30, 2005
30th
Anniversary of the Fall of Saigon
10:07AM
EST
“Today,
we look back on the past. We look back on a conflict that has brought so
much sorrow to so many. Thirty years ago today, the Fall of Saigon changed
the face of the Earth. It created a new nation, the Socialist Republic of
Vietnam, and created new enemies. Now, as we stand in front of this great
memorial to those who have fought and died in the Vietnam conflict, we
must look upon ourselves and think how that war has changed us, not only
as individuals but also as a nation.”
The
man wasn’t paying too much attention to what was being said on the
television. He was far too busy looking through the various papers and
articles he’d collected in the last few months concerning the person who
was speaking. What he was learning about Senator Tuyen Van Blaize only
confirmed what he was beginning to believe. ‘The
man is a damned North Vietnamese Commie, all right.’
Blaize
continued his speech in front of the Vietnam Memorial. “I want to tell
you a story. It’s about a Vietnamese man whom I had once called family.
He was my mother’s brother. He was also a member of the North Vietnamese
Army during the war we are here to remember. His name was Colonel Trung
Dang.”
The
man froze at the name he heard, the papers now long forgotten for what the
Senator was saying. ‘That heartless, murdering scum of hell, Colonel
Dang is his uncle! No wonder the Commie bastard looks familiar!’
“Colonel
Dang killed and tortured literally hundreds of American and South
Vietnamese soldiers. To the North Vietnamese, my uncle was a patriot. To
those who suffered by his hand, whether directly or indirectly, he was a
monster. As Colonel Dang’s
nephew, I grew up hearing stories about what he had done and those stories
are still with me to this day.
“I
am proud to be here this day to remember those souls who have died in
defense of this country. It is the horrors such as my uncle caused that we
remember today. It is these horrors that prevent us from ever finding true
peace.”
“Shut
up! Shut the hell up, you stinkin’ Commie gook!” the man screamed at
the television, grabbing a baseball bat and smashing the television’s
glassy surface. A spark here and there told that the television would
never work again as the man used every foul word in the English language
to describe his feelings about the Senator.
“Stinkin’
Commie bastard,” he finally muttered, going into the kitchen. Searching
the kitchen, he found the bottle of Jack Daniels and pulled down a tumbler
before pouring a tall glassful. He drank half of the glass before
refilling it and carrying both the glass and the bottle of bourbon into
his living room, drinking the glass as he walked. Then, without caring
whether he spilled any of the liquor or not, he slumped into his couch and
began drinking, determined to drown out the screams of his buddies whom
Dang tortured and killed, the faces of his buddies whom Dang just let
starve to death, and the memories of the brave men who finally just gave
up because Dang’s lies finally convinced them that nobody cared.
After
the third time he had passed out and then woke up hours later, he looked
around his house and finally noticed the wreck he had created. His
television’s shattered screen and the many empty and broken bottles of
Jack Daniels and other assorted liquor reminded him of why he had begun
his hard drinking in the first place.
‘Blaize!’
the man thought viciously. ‘That
bastard has to be stopped! I’m not about to let Dang’s nephew get his
lying bloodstained hands on any more power in this country!’ Stumbling
to his feet, he wobbled towards the bathroom, his bloodshot eyes now
filled with clear intent. ‘Senator Blaize is just gonna have to die,’
he thought as he stripped from his alcohol-laden clothes and stepped into
the shower. ‘And being the only one in this country who sees through
his damnable lies, I’m just the man to do it too!’
PART
TWO
Washington,
D.C.
Monday,
May 8th, 2006
4:16
PM EST
The
drive to Senator Tuyen Van Blaize’s office, after a filling lunch at one
of Al’s favorite hangouts, turned out to be uneventful. With a couple of
suggestions from Al, he negotiated his way past the receptionist and then
Blaize's secretary, Alicia Carmichael, and into the safety of the
Senator's office.
The
office was luxurious compared to any other office Sam had ever remembered
being in. Not only did the Senator have mahogany and leather furniture and
an extensive library that included a wide range of books, both fictional
and non-fictional, but he also had his own private bathroom that included
a shower and a change of clothes.
Sam
walked around the office with a soft whistle of appreciation at the décor.
Going to the large impressive polished mahogany desk, he set the slim
calfskin briefcase in the middle of it before sitting in the thickly
padded leather chair. He sighed slightly at the comfortableness the chair
presented to him and closed his eyes for a moment. With Al having gone
back to the Control Room to, as Al put it, “put a fire under Ziggy’s
mainframe,” Sam found himself with little to do other than try to figure
out what exactly Tuyen Blaize did during office hours.
Rolling
closer to the desk, he scanned the several documents and folders awaiting
Senator Blaize's attention. One in particular caught his eye.
“Sherman-Calavicci,
Julianna - USN,” Sam read aloud.
“What?”
Al asked, walking through the Imaging Chamber door, causing Sam to jump
slightly. “Sorry, Sam,” the Holographic Observer apologized.
“What’s this about Jules?”
“Al,
Blaize has a folder on your daughter!” Sam told him bluntly, looking
into his friend’s eyes.
Hard-earned
instincts gained from Al’s years of dealing with political bigwigs and
Washington bureaucrats kicked Al into red-alert mode at the leaper's
words. If Albert Calavicci hadn't been a hologram, he would most certainly
have come close to knocking Sam over with the speed at which he moved to
the leaper's side. Watching Sam open the file, his dark eyes scanned the
few pages the folder contained almost as fast as Sam did. “What's he
doing with information on Jules?” he muttered then turned his attention
to running the query through the handlink.
Sam
looked at the papers for a long moment before raising his eyebrows.
“There’s a résumé here too, Al.”
“A
what?”
Sam
sighed. “Résumé. Something most people write up in order to sell
themselves to a potential employer. I think Julianna is looking for a job
and Blaize did an extensive background check.” Sam put the papers back
in the folder. “The question is, for what position?”
“Well,
whatever that position is, you can’t worry about that now,” Al told
him, straightening himself as he looked into Sam’s eyes. “Ziggy’s
finally come up with what you are here to do.”
Sam
stood from the chair at Al’s news. “And that is?”
“You’re
here to save Senator Blaize’s life,” Al told him plainly. “In… two
weeks,” he read from the handlink, “as
the Senator is attending a conference in San Diego, he’s shot and killed
by an unknown shooter.”
“The
police didn’t get him?” Sam asked with a frown of concern.
Al
shook his head. “No. The guy was a pro - covered his tracks brilliantly.
But the police think that the assassination could have been racially
motivated.” Getting a questioning frown from Sam, Al continued. “After
the Senator was killed, the police found his dressing room spray painted
with… slurs against the Senator’s ethnicity.”
“Senator?”
Alicia Carmichael poked her head through the door, gaining both Sam and
Al’s attention. “Your four o’clock appointment is here. Shall I send
her in?”
Sam
nodded before finding a voice. “Umm... yeah. I mean... please, send her
in, Alicia.”
A
moment later, dressed as she was earlier that day, Julianna walked through
the door. Both Sam and Al looked at her with a hint of surprise before
they realized that she must be here to interview for whatever position
Senator Blaize was offering.
“I
hope that I'm not disturbing you, Senator,” Jules said, stopping
hesitantly in the doorway. “After we missed our appointment this
morning, I took the liberty of rescheduling with Ms. Carmichael.”
“No,
you aren’t disturbing me at all,” Sam said with a wide smile as he
came around his desk and extended his hand to Julianna. He was sure that
his host would have appreciated the firmness of her handshake and her
direct and confident manner in spite of the unfortunate, and literal, run
in he'd had with her just a short time ago. “Punctuality is always
important in our line of work,” he said to her as he walked with her to
the desk. Once she was seated, Sam went to sit in the high-backed leather
chair behind the desk. “Would you care for something to drink?”
Although
Julianna was confident as she sat, she was suddenly feeling very
apprehensive. In fact, the apprehension felt almost tangible. “No, thank
you, Senator,” she said politely before frowning slightly and looking
around her. Her eyes stopped at a particular area of the room - the exact
spot where Al stood near the desk. Shaking her head mentally, she
refocused on Sam. “If you don't mind, Senator, I would like to get to
the matter at hand. Have you considered my résumé for the position?”
There
was no way Sam could miss how Julianna's gaze kept darting to the exact
point where Al stood a couple of feet to his right near the desk.
Another glance at the attractive woman sitting across from him
revealed to him subtle mannerisms that told him her father's presence was
having a strong effect on her.
Knowing
now what was bothering Julianna, Sam stood again. “Would you excuse me
for just a moment, Captain Sherman-Cal…”
Julianna
smiled as she interrupted. “Just call me Julianna, Senator. Believe me,
it’s easier on the tongue.”
Sam
smiled in return. “Julianna,” he repeated. “I’ll be right back.”
Sam entered Blaize’s private bathroom, gesturing with his head for Al to
follow.
“I
think you need to go back to the Project, Al,” Sam told his Observer the
moment they were alone.
“No,”
Al told him bluntly. “I want to hear what she's got to say for
herself.”
Sam
gave him a firm almost-frown. “Al, she's feeling your presence. You
always said she could sense when you were around. Right now, the best way
you can help her is to leave.” He couldn't help but understand the
expression on Al's face. “She's a big girl, Daddy.
She can take care of herself.”
Al
frowned in frustration at not being allowed to stay close to find out what
was happening to his eldest daughter in this time of her life, especially
since she never said much about it. “Okay, but you tell me everything
when I get back. I'll go and see if I can’t get more from Ziggy about
that assassination.” Without further words, he opened the Imaging
Chamber door and vanished behind a pillar of white light.
Assured
that Al had done as requested, Sam flushed the toilet and ran the sink to
cover his absence before returning to Blaize’s office with a sheepish
grin.
“My
apologies, Captain Sher… Julianna,” he corrected himself as he sat
down. He noted that Julianna hadn’t budged from her chair and that she
took the interruption in stride. Opening the folder with her name on, he
skimmed again the information he had already memorized then closed the
folder, leaned back in his chair and fixed her with a calm but direct
gaze. “Tell me about yourself, Julianna,” he said. “Why do you want
this position and, besides what's in your resume, what about yourself do
you think would qualify you for the position over any other candidate?”
Julianna
raised an eyebrow at the question, finding it obviously a little odd.
“Well... you need someone who has experience and, to be honest, I miss
the work and I doubt that you will find anyone more qualified,” she told
him bluntly. “As for why I would be qualified for the position, I feel
my résumé says everything that needs to be said, other than perhaps that
I am a woman and will very likely be more apt to be underestimated.” The
Senator seemed confused by her words. “You do want someone who can do
the job without the need to seem as if you were constantly being
surrounded and inaccessible.” That look of confusion was still there.
“Senator, I would think that my three years in Senator Weitzman's
service would be sufficient proof of my qualifications. And before you
even bring the issue up, it has been proven, without a shadow of a doubt,
that I was in no way negligent in my duties when Senator Weitzman died.”
Sam
could hear the undertone of confusion in Julianna's voice though her
attitude and demeanor remained unswervingly calm and focused. As he
studied her, what she had said about Senator Weitzman (if ever there was a
name Sam was certain he would never forget, it was the name of that
Senator that had kept his project wondering if they would survive to
continue to find a method to bring him home) made him realize to which
position Julianna had applied. ‘She’s applied to be my - Blaize’s
- bodyguard. Which indicates that Blaize was aware that his life was in
danger before he even went to San Diego.’
Yet,
even as this realization came to him, Weitzman’s name had stirred up a
murky memory, a memory that involved the late Senator, Julianna and…
himself. When Julianna stopped talking, Sam gazed into her eyes deeply for
a long unblinking moment. He thought he felt something trying to come up
out of that murky memory but after another minute it slipped away.
Instead
of pursuing it, Sam nodded slightly in response to Julianna's strong and
determined response. “I've read the report, Captain,” he assured her,
knowing based on the information in Julianna’s file that Blaize had
already read everything he could get his hands on about her before setting
up the interview. He smiled at her, shifting his position slightly. “And
you are right,” Sam went on. “I do want someone who will be able
to…” he quirked a little grin at her, “...take care of me without
hovering.” Seeing her reaction, one similar to how her father reacted to
favorable give and take, he knew he'd said the right thing. “You have
the job.”
The
smile on Julianna's face was practically beaming. “You won't regret your
decision, Senator.”
He
smiled at her as she stood up, rising from his seat as well. When she
stepped up to the desk and extended her right hand to him, he took it in a
firm clasp. “Believe me
when I say that I don't have the slightest doubt that you are going to be
the best bodyguard in this city. But,” he decided to lighten what he
felt could become rather more than he, or Tuyen Blaize, was prepared to
get into at the moment. “Just remember... you're my personal bodyguard,
now.”
Julianna
laughed a genuine laugh. “Your Chief of Security, at that, sir. Don't
worry about that, Senator. My loyalties are with you now and there they
will stay unless or until you or I decide otherwise. I'm yours to
command.”
For
some reason, Sam’s heart seemed to beat a little faster as he looked
into her eyes and heard her laughter. Surely, he wasn’t this affected by
his best friend’s daughter! He certainly didn’t have a romantic
interest in Julianna. But looking at her, he couldn’t help feeling as if
his world would collapse if she didn’t say yes to his next words.
“All
right, since you put it that way,” he said to her, his eyes twinkling.
“Dinner tonight. Seven o'clock.”
The
command startled Julianna for a moment until she remembered earlier that
day when he insisted on taking her to dinner - his treat - in lieu of
lunch on her. “All right,” she said with a little smile. “I'll pick
you up.” Sam started to open his mouth but Julianna raised her eyebrows.
“Senator, it's my job, remember?” Pulling her hand away, she started
to walk towards the door. “And I am assuming that the job is effective
immediately. So, with your permission, I'm going to dive right into the
position and meet my staff before ensuring that you are escorted home. And
then, again with your permission, I’d like to go home myself to get
ready for dinner.”
Sam
just nodded with approval, smiling – he was sure he looked foolish with
how widely – as Julianna closed the office door behind her. The moment
Julianna was out of sight, that odd puppy-love feeling was gone, leaving
Sam wondering where the feeling came from in the first place. ‘Must
be Blaize,’ he realized. His eyes widened with the realization and
he smiled.
Sam
didn’t really believe in love at first sight but neither could he deny
that certain people did have an immediate physical reaction to the
pheromones that others produced. It was obvious to him that his host and
he were psycho-synergizing and that he was feeling Blaize’s singular
attraction towards Julianna.
‘Well,
why not? She seems to be attracted to him as well. After all, it was she
who first suggested sharing a meal.’
“Sam,
what have you done?”
Sam
was so intent on his thoughts that he didn’t hear the sound of the
Imaging Chamber door open and thus startled slightly at Al's almost terse
question. “What do you mean?”
When
Al spoke again, there was a definite undertone of fury. “I'm gone for no
more than five minutes and you go and change everything! Damn it! Tell me
what you did!” he bellowed at him. “Tell me!”
It
wasn't the first time Al had come charging back in a leap making the same
demand, so Sam took the Observer's irritation in stride. Strolling over to
him, Sam crossed his arms over his chest and gave Al a satisfied grin.
“Senator Tuyen Van Blaize now has a new Chief of Security, one Julianna
Sherman-Calavicci. And I'm taking her to dinner tonight.” He thought
that the announcement that Julianna now had a good, solid and well-paying
job would be a balm to sooth over Al's irritation.
“What
did you just say?” Al demanded. When Sam started repeating himself, Al
started to do the only thing he could do with the anger that was building
in him: he paced and yelled. “Gaddammit, it's your fault! Everything was
fine until you had to go stick your nose in where it doesn't belong! I
told you she had NOTHING to do with this leap and you go and screw up her
life royally!”
Sam's
eyes widened at Al's words. “What? What happened?”
Al
turned an angry glare at him, looking as if he could twist the physicist's
head off with that glare. “She's paralyzed, Sam. Thanks to you, she'll
never walk again!”
Slowly
Sam's arms dropped to his sides, confusion plain in his expression.
“Paralyzed? Al, all I did was hire her as Blaize’s
Chief of Security. How could she be paralyzed?”
“That’s
what happens sometimes when you are shot in the back in full view of
hundreds of people.” Pausing to glare at Sam as he spoke, Al saw in the
leaper's eyes the instant the penny dropped. “Yeah,” he drove home the
point with relentless intent. “Her first major situation on her new job
comes up with that assassination attempt on Senator Blaize in
San Diego.” Yanking the handlink from his coat pocket and with a minimum
number of buttons pressed, he summed up the specific results of Sam's good
intentions. Turning the handlink for the leaper to read the brief but
concise information, he informed him, “On May 22nd, 2006, at 7:38 P.M.,
while escorting Blaize to deliver his speech at the conference, Julianna
sees a man in the crowd aim a gun at him. She turns to push Blaize out of
the line of fire just as the bastard pulls the trigger.” Al's eyes were
blazing now. “Jules takes the bullet in her lower back, severing her
spinal cord.” Catching a breath he repeated again, “She’ll spend the
rest of her life in a wheelchair. And it's even worse!”
“Worse?”
Sam asked, shocked that the one deed that he just did – a deed meant to
help his best friend’s daughter – had brought about such a horrible
fate. “Worse than her being paralyzed? How could it be worse?”
“She
lost Jude!”
“Who's
Jude?”
Al’s
anger boiled over at Sam's innocent question. “My grandson! Her son!
Because of her being paralyzed, she loses the custody battle for Jude! And
that bastard ex-fiancé of hers and his wife take him to live with them in
Europe! That bitch Heidi Henson beat Jude to death when he wouldn’t stop
crying! I lost my grandson... my daughter lost her son… because...” Al
stopped for a moment then continued on in a low and bitter voice, “...
because of you.”
Sam
wasn't sure how to react to Al's accusation, mostly because it ripped at
his soul more than he wanted to admit. It wasn't because Al was accusing
him of something but rather because the accusation had merit. ‘If I
hadn't hired Julianna...’
“Your...
grandson...” he murmured, getting nothing but a glare in response. He
wiped his face slowly, guilt piling heavily upon his heart. “Al...
I'm... I'm not going to let that happen, okay? I'll make sure that she and
I aren't anywhere near that conference when it's supposed to happen. We
just... won't be there.” He didn't look at Al's accusing glares as he
spoke.
“Like
that’s going to stop a lunatic bent on assassinating a Senator,” Al
growled, anger clear in his voice. “You just aren’t getting it, are
you? If Julianna is around Blaize, she is paralyzed and Jude dies!” He
moved to look harshly into Sam’s eyes. “If I were you, I’d fire her
now. Send her home where she belongs – HERE, not in D.C. trying to get
herself killed all because she needs to ‘find herself’!” He raised
his hands, making quotation marks with his fingers as he spoke.
“What
about Blaize?” Sam questioned.
“You
can hire someone else for him,” Al told him bluntly, clearly upset that
Sam didn’t seem to be listening to him. “Anyone can guard that damned
dink!”
Sam
was silenced for a moment by Al’s words. “Did I just hear you refer to
Senator Blaize as a ‘dink?” he finally demanded quietly.
Al’s
fury was muted by Sam’s harsh question, feeling suddenly a hint of
regret. “I said that?” Getting a knowing look from Sam, he avoided
looking at the leaper, focusing on the handlink. “Slip of the tongue,”
he muttered, pushing buttons he didn’t need to push.
Sam
walked over, a disappointed look on his face, and stood mere inches away
from the Admiral. “You don’t think Blaize is bad for Julianna because
he’s a politician; you think he’s bad for Julianna because he happens
to be Vietnamese. That’s it, isn’t it? Why else would you call him
such a horrible word? I can’t even believe I heard it coming out of your
mouth!”
Al
exhaled slowly, still finding the handlink more interesting than the look
on Sam’s face. “Maybe I used too strong a word to describe what I
think.”
“Oh,
I think you described what you think quite well!” Sam retaliated. “I
just can’t believe that you, of all people… Do you remember Machiko
MacKenzie? Or Anita Färber?
You were behind them all the way, helped me to help them be accepted
despite their nationalities. And now you are against someone because
he’s Vietnamese? Why Machiko and Anita and not Tuyen? Is it because they
aren’t Vietnamese?”
“It’s
not his nationality, Sam,” Al said bluntly. “It’s his family.”
“What?”
Sam questioned with surprise. “Oh, this is even better!” he complained
sarcastically. “What could you possibly object to concerning his family
that would…”
“His
uncle was Colonel Dang!” Al interrupted bluntly, gaining Sam’s
attention. “The same man who nearly killed me in Vietnam. If it
hadn’t been for Ahn… ‘The Spirit of the Jungle’… I don’t think
I would have made it out alive, even with my determination to get
home to Beth.”
Sam
exhaled slowly at Al’s words before shaking his head. “So, that’s
what this is all about? You not being able to cope with what someone
else did to you thirty-five years ago?” Sam didn’t wait for an
answer, marching to the desk to retrieve his coat.
Al
didn’t say a word for a long moment before taking a deep breath. What he
said made Sam pause in exiting Blaize’s office. “I thought we were
friends, Sam. I thought that you, of all people, would understand.”
“And
I thought I knew you better,” Sam told him angrily. He took a calming
breath that did nothing to stop his angry feelings towards Al. “I have
to do what I think is right, Al. And everything that has happened so far
in this leap keeps telling me that there is more to it than what Ziggy is
saying. I have to do what I think is best to save him and Julianna but I
also have to go with what I think is right for their futures.” He paused
in thought. “Now, I am assuming that Blaize didn’t hire her in the
original history. My question would be why not. Her qualifications far
exceed anyone else who applied. She is perfect for the job whether you
want to believe it or not.” He faced Al meaningfully. “I think he
didn’t hire her because of you.”
“Me?!”
Al protested. “What did I do?”
“It’s
not what you did, Al. It’s who you are. You’re Admiral Albert
Calavicci and she’s your daughter. She also just happens to be the first
female Navy SEAL. Can you imagine the ramifications if something were to
happen to her?”
“Yes,
I can, because something DOES happen to her!” Al told him bluntly.
“But
she’s the best person for the job,” Sam commented.
“What
does that matter?”
“It’ll
save Blaize’s life.”
“And
destroy hers!” Al protested vehemently.
“I’m
not going to let that happen, Al,” Sam told him plainly. “This is the
right thing to do, not only for Blaize’s sake but for Julianna’s as
well. And if you don’t like Blaize simply because he’s Vietnamese or
just happens to be related to some past ghost of yours, you can just sit
out of this leap and all the rest of the leaps from here on out until you
come back to the 21st century.”
Sam
looked into his friend’s eyes, seeing hurt and shame in them. He sighed
softly, regretting his words. It was clear that Al was grappling with an
array of emotions that Sam had never in his life had to face as Al had. He
also knew that those emotions were born not only of prejudice against a
certain Vietnamese family, but also of his understandable fatherly concern
for his eldest daughter.
“Trust
me,” he assured Al, his tone far more gentle than it had been throughout
their heated conversation. “I won’t let anything happen to her.”
Al
exhaled slowly and looked away, refusing to meet Sam’s eyes for more
than a few seconds. “I hope you’re right, Sam. Because if you fail to
correct this, if she’s paralyzed for life and my grandson dies… I’ll
never forgive you. Never.” With that, Al opened the Imaging Chamber
door.
As
Al vanished into the future, the office door opened, revealing Alicia’s
concerned face. “Senator,
is everything okay? I heard yelling.”
Sam
hesitated before nodding slowly. “Everything’s fine, Alicia. Thank you
for your concern.” He paused a moment before slipping on Blaize’s
jacket. “Please inform Captain Sherman-Calavicci that I am leaving for
the day and that I am awaiting for the escort she promised.”
Alicia
looked at her employer with a frown of concern before giving a short nod.
“Yes, sir,” she said softly and then closed the door behind her.
Sam
looked at the office once more, his mind running a marathon of thoughts,
before he turned back to the door. As he touched the doorknob, he felt the
familiar stirrings of an approaching leap.
‘Wait!
I’m not done here! I have to fix this! I have to save Julianna and her
son! I have to save Tuyen Blaize!’ he
thought desperately. However, his silent pleas were ignored as the quantum
energy surrounded him and pulled him away to another place, another time.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Project
Quantum Leap
Stallion’s
Gate, New Mexico
Tuesday,
December 19th, 2006
The
fury Al had felt when he marched into the Imaging Chamber was still with
him as he exited. His only thought was that of Julianna the last time he
saw her in this current, altered timeline – the one that had less than
ten minutes ago assaulted him so violently that he nearly immediately
returned to the Imaging Chamber to demand from Sam an explanation. Yet,
even when Al had told Sam most of what this new timeline entailed –
Julianna’s paralysis and Jude’s death from child abuse – the
memories were still too fresh in his mind for him to tell Sam everything
that had been changed.
Julianna
had stayed with Lisa after Jude’s funeral. But even the loving care of
her mother wasn’t enough to ease the depression that had become a
day-to-day burden upon Julianna’s soul. Al could understand her deep and
unbridled sorrow for the loss of her only son; after all that had happened
in her life, Jude was the only thing that had kept the tapestry of her
life together.
One
night less than a month ago, after Lisa had gone to bed, Julianna had
slipped out of bed and had wheeled herself into the kitchen. The
clatter of metal had woken Lisa, causing her to hurry to the kitchen with
concern. She hadn’t expected to see Julianna sitting there in her
wheelchair, her wrists bleeding profusely from self-inflicted wounds. It
was Lisa’s amazing clear-headedness, despite the circumstances, that had
saved Julianna’s life.
It
had wounded Al’s spirit to even suggest to Lisa that Julianna would be
better in a mental hospital, where she could be watched constantly and
given the psychiatric help she needed to cope with her devastating loss.
But it was actually putting her in that mental hospital that had killed
the Admiral’s spirit. If Beth hadn’t been there to give him reason to
go on, Al wasn’t sure he wouldn’t have fallen back into the darkness
of alcoholism that the horrors of Vietnam had led him to so many years
ago.
However,
Al knew that recalling this new past wasn’t going to save his
daughter’s life or the life of his grandson. No, he needed to find
answers for Sam so that this past could be changed back to the way things
should be. For that, he needed to do research and a hell of a lot of it.
He needed to find out who had attempted to kill Senator Tuyen Van Blaize
and let Sam know so that he could prevent the assassination attempt.
Al
closed his eyes when he thought of how he’d let his bias against the
Senator out for Sam to see it all its ugly glory. He knew better but he
couldn’t stop the angry and hateful feelings he had for Blaize. After
all, no one can help whom he or she is related to. But just knowing that
Tuyen Van Blaize was a blood relative of the man who had personally
tortured him, who ordered men literally skinned alive… He didn’t want
that bloodline mixed in with his, no matter what kind of person Blaize may
be.
“Al?”
Dom’s voice interrupted his thoughts, causing Al to open his eyes and
refocus on the present. “Admiral Beckett called. He wants you to return
his call concerning the upgrade on the security system you requested.”
‘Security
system?! Who has time to worry about a damned security system when my
daughter’s and grandson’s lives are on the line?!’
Al thought with vehemence as he looked at the Project’s Chief Programmer
with a glare. The surprise on the African-American doctor’s face was
obvious when Al didn’t say a word to him but rather marched past him and
towards the console in the middle of the Control Room.
“Ziggy,
I want every film clip, every news article, every little rumor concerning
the attempt on Senator Blaize’s life on my desk before the end of the
day,” he ordered as he put the handlink on the console. “I don’t
care how small or insignificant it may seem.”
“As
you wish, Admiral,” came Ziggy’s soft reply. “However, I thought you
might like to know that Dr. Beckett has leaped.”
“What?”
Al whispered. “But he… he can’t have! Nothing’s right! He didn’t
stop Julianna from being shot and my grandson is still dead!”
“May
I remind you, Admiral, that, technically, Dr. Beckett completed his
mission when he hired Captain Sherman-Calavicci, since it was she who
saved Senator Blaize’s life,” Ziggy told him.
Al
turned towards the parallel-hybrid computer with a hard glare. “Just…
get me the information that I’ve ordered.”
Dom
looked at him with sympathy. “Al… Sam’s leaped. There’s nothing
more we can do.”
“Just
do it!” Al bellowed at him, causing the programmer to step back in
shock. “Every scrap of information, got it?” He turned and marched out
the door.
PART
THREE
Freedom,
New Hampshire
Thursday,
December 21st, 2006
4:36
PM EST
The
first thing that Sam Beckett noticed when he leaped in was the confined
space. The room he was in couldn’t have been more than six feet wide and
four feet deep. There were two plain cloth-backed chairs – he was
sitting in one - and a small table on which was perched a tall glass of
water. A small lamp gave just enough light to see by. There were two doors
in the little room as well, both of them opposite the two chairs in the
room.
‘Who
would make such a strange room and why?’
Sam frowned, looking around for a reason as to why anyone would be in such
a room. A look at himself revealed that he not only wasn’t a prisoner
but also that he seemed to be in the middle of reading something in the
strange small room. Looking at the book in his hand, he realized that it
was a Bible. What’s more, his attire was completely black except for the
long and narrow piece of sewn cloth with delicate needlework draped around
his neck. The word for the piece of cloth slipped into his mind – ‘They
call it a stole’ – and Sam’s eyes widened with realization.
“Oh,
boy,” he murmured. “I’m a priest again.” For some reason, he knew
that what he said was the truth. Although his memories of past leaps were
foggy, he remembered being a priest. But what the heck kind of room was
this?
Even
as he pondered on it, he heard a door gently and quietly open and close
and a voice came from his right side. He turned his head in surprise but
didn’t say a word as he saw the mesh screen blocking his view of the
smaller room right next to his.
“Bless
me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been… several months since my last
confession.”
‘Oh,
God! It’s a Confessional! I can’t absolve others’ sins!’
“I don’t think…” Sam started but was immediately interrupted by
the penitent.
“Please,
Father,” said the man, his voice filled with emotion. “I know I’m
not usually the kind of person who goes to Confession on a regular basis.
But… what I’ve done… I promise to turn myself over to the police. I
just… I have to tell someone.”
Sam
frowned at this man’s words and at his voice. ‘He sounds a little
familiar… But with how soft his voice is, it’s hard to even understand
him much less identify him.’ “Why… why would you need to turn
yourself over to the police?” he asked carefully, unsure what to make of
this particular situation. What the penitent said, though, shocked Sam.
“I
murdered someone,” the man told him after a long pause, his voice
cracking from his own sense of guilt. “Not killed. I’ve killed before
but that was war, self-defense. This… was revenge.” He sniffed, as if
he had been crying while he confessed.
“Murder?”
Sam stated more than asked, astonished by the confession. But the man
didn’t seem to hear Sam’s single word.
“Father,
I… I don’t expect forgiveness for this. I just…” the man sniffed
again, clearly crying now. “Father, please pray for me and my family…
especially my family. They don’t know what I’ve done and… it’s
really going to tear them up when they learn. I’ve destroyed everything
we’ve worked so hard to build. My grief and anger… I let them control
my actions and now…” He took a deep breath and exhaled shakily but
didn’t complete the sentence he had started.
Now
that the man had spoken for a while, his voice had become clearer to Sam.
And by the vehemence in which the man spoke, the passion that came through
with every word, Sam now knew that voice and who owned it. ‘Can’t
be!’ he thought frantically. ‘It’s… impossible!’ But
the man was still asking… no, more like begging… him to pray for his
family. And there was no doubt about his sorrow for his sin. Sam swallowed
tightly and wiped some tears from his own face, confusion still clear in
his eyes as he came to a decision.
“I
think… it is clear that you are truly sorry for what you’ve done. And
since you have already said that you are going to turn yourself over to
the police, I think you have already found your own penance,” Sam told
him quietly, his heart aching. “I will pray for you… my son. I will
pray for everyone you hold dear to your heart and who hold you dear to
theirs.” He took a shaky breath, and then continued. “Your sin is
forgiven as long as you hold true to your intention of… of turning
yourself in.” He listened to see if the man, whose voice he now
recognized, had a response for him.
There
was a long silence before the penitent sniffed again. “Thank you,
Father,” he said quietly.
Sam
heard a creak of wood and then a door opening and closing gently. Turning
his head, he’d found the penitent had gone. And then, without even a
chance to get up and confirm his own befuddled emotions, Sam leaped.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
San
Diego, California
Monday,
May 22nd, 2006
11:19AM
PST
Sam
could still feel the tears on his face as he found a hallway gaping in
front of him. And yet, he felt confined, despite nothing blocking his
path. Looking to the sides, he found the reason for the odd feeling. Two
people, one of whom he was certain he recognized, were both flanking him
and talking at the same time.
"You
have a luncheon with the Governor at 11:00 tomorrow..."
"Now
this part, I think it would be best if you emphasized the importance
of..."
"…Kindergarten
class at Wilson Elementary at 3:00. You need to make sure that you inform
Mrs. Levi..."
"...that
you are a true American citizen..."
Sam
kept turning his head from one to the other of his companions, trying to
focus on what the young man was saying to him; it sounded like a part of a
speech. He was finding it difficult, despite his photographic memory, to
keep the conversations straight.
"Okay,"
he agreed then immediately turned to the all-business looking woman at his
right as she continued reading from what looked like some sort of planner.
As it happened, just as the woman was saying something about a Mrs.
Levi, he heard the words, "...true American citizen."
"Did
she just take the oath to become a citizen recently?" he asked, the
rapid-fire information coming at him from both sides running together in
his mind.
Alicia
Carmichael didn't miss a step as she kept pace with Senator Blaize, though
it was a trifle harder to keep from rolling her eyes as she said,
"Senator, have you heard anything I just said?"
Sam
instantly slowed his pace but didn't stop altogether.
"Uh... yeah but I've got so much on my mind right now...”
But
even as Sam said these words, the three persons, walking side by side,
went around the corner and Sam found himself colliding with a large
not-so-hard object, causing him to fall backwards. He heard a peculiar
almost gasping cry and the sound of papers falling. There was a prattling
of voices apologizing to him, asking if he was okay and such. Only when he
was able to stand up yet again, the sight before him was somehow familiar.
"I
don't believe this," the woman, whom he had literally run into, was
saying with a laugh as she gathered papers. Standing up, she gave an
almost sheepish but definitely amused smile. "You know, Senator, we
really have to stop meeting like this. We're both going to have black and
blue butts in a couple of weeks at this rate."
Sam
laughed, seeing at last the face of the woman with whom he had another
close encounter of the klutzy kind. "It's okay, Julianna," he
assured her as she joined in the laughter. “Can’t think of a lovelier
woman to run into.” ‘Where did that come from?’ Sam wondered
about his choice of words.
Julianna
played with her hair for a moment before clearing her throat. “I… I
have the layout of the convention hall and the security protocols for
tonight’s conference ready whenever you would like to go over with them,
Senator.”
Sam
frowned slightly at her words. “Conference?” he questioned.
“Yes,
sir,” Julianna told him patiently. “The Conference on Ethnic Diversity
in the United States Government?”
Even
as Julianna spoke, a memory surfaced, one in which Admiral Albert
Calavicci, her father, yelled an alternate history at him, fury in his
eyes.
“On
May 22nd, 2006, at 7:38 P.M., while escorting Blaize to deliver his speech
at the conference, Julianna sees a man in the crowd aim a gun at him. She
turns to push Blaize out of the line of fire just as the bastard pulls the
trigger. Jules takes the bullet in her back just below her waist, severing
her spinal cord. She’ll spend the rest of her life in a wheelchair…
Heidi Henson beat Jude to death when he wouldn’t stop crying! I lost my
grandson… my daughter lost her son… because of you.”
“Oh,
boy,” Sam murmured under his breath, suddenly not only knowing who he
was and where he was but also what he was there to do. “Of course,
the… the Conference on Ethnic Di… Diversity. It’s… it’s just
hard to believe that that is tonight… already,” he improvised, hoping
he didn’t sound as ridiculous as he felt at the moment.
The
three employees of Senator Blaize – Julianna, Alicia, and speechwriter
Robert Ingles – looked at Sam with questioning, obviously unconvinced by
the Senator’s words. Finally, it was Julianna who spoke up.
“I
think the Senator could use a little break. We’ve been inundating him
with information since seven o’clock this morning in preparation for
tonight and it’s nearly noon already,” she added, looking at her
watch. “So… a couple of hours for lunch?” she suggested, looking at
both Alicia and Robert, who seemed agreeable to the suggestion. “I’ll
just… lock these plans in your desk for the moment, Senator,” she
added, gently pushing her way between Sam and Alicia. “We can go over
them after lunch. Robert, do you want me to add the speech to the pile?”
“Might
as well,” Robert told her as he handed her the three pages of typed
paper. Julianna accepted them with a smile and then continued down the
hall behind them.
Alicia
gave Sam a little smile before quietly walking away, apparently towards
her own desk, leaving Sam and Robert alone in the hallway.
“So,”
Robert said after a moment, “have you slept with her yet?” There was a
definite lecherous look on his face.
“Excuse
me?” Sam questioned with a hard frown as he heard the Imaging Chamber
door open beside him.
“Julianna,”
Robert clarified. “Have you slept with her?”
“Why,
you lousy dirty…” Al started, raising his fist as if he were about to
send Robert through the wall behind him.
“I…”
Sam started, unsure how to answer that question. After all, he had no idea
if Julianna and Senator Blaize were involved or not. However, he did know
that the answer to the question was certainly none of Robert’s business.
“Oh,
come on, Blaize. It’s obvious that you’ve got the hots for her.
You’ve been ogling her since you hired her,” Robert told him.
Sam
glared at him for the comment. “Julianna Sherman-Calavicci was not hired
for her looks, Mr. Ingles,” he told him bluntly, noting that he seemed
to already know the man’s last name without help from Al.
“Oh,
I don’t doubt that,” Robert replied. “But you’ve been giving
extraordinary attention to her, like talking to that judge to get him to
lift the travel restriction she was under thanks to that custody battle
she’s having over her son… and arranging someone to watch over that
kid while she’s on this trip… and taking her out every day, whether
it’s lunch or dinner, for the past week…”
Sam
took a step toward Robert, a warning look in his eyes. “In case you’ve
forgotten, someone’s been sending me death threats. I don’t think
it’s all that extraordinary, given the circumstances, for me to want
someone covering my back, especially if that someone just happens to be an
ex-SEAL.”
Robert
raised his hands in apparent surrender. “Okay, none of my business. But
let me just give you some advice, friend to friend. If you keep taking
Julianna out, whether it’s business or pleasure, the press is going to
have a field day, especially with this conference.” He paused as he saw
the person in question coming into view. “Enjoy your lunch, Senator
Blaize,” he told him with a smile.
Al
frowned as he watched Robert walk away. He didn’t like the innuendo that
was written on Robert’s face and he made a mental note to do his
research on the speechwriter. But that particular concern vanished from
his mind when he saw Julianna approaching with a gentle smile.
“All
ready, Senator?” she asked. She looked upon herself quickly, verifying
that her weapon, tucked in a shoulder holster, was in good order.
“Umm…”
Sam started, looking between her and her father, who had a particularly
pained look on his face as he looked upon his eldest daughter. Sam
hesitated wondering how to answer Julianna’s simple question. “Would
you excuse me for a moment? I just have to…” He put on a slightly
uncomfortable look. “Well… you know…”
Julianna’s
smile widened. “Certainly, Senator,” she assured him before watching
him walk towards the nearest men’s room.
Al
didn’t follow Sam’s lead for a long moment, still looking at Julianna,
before he raised the handlink and pushed a couple of buttons. In an
instant, he found himself in the men’s room just as Sam walked through
the door.
“You
don’t have to tell me anything, Al,” Sam told him the moment the door
was closed. “I know everything.”
“You
do?” Al asked, his eyes wide.
“I’m
Senator Blaize again,” Sam stated plainly. “Al, I remember that last
leap into Blaize. Julianna’s shot tonight, isn’t she?”
Al
nodded slightly. “Yeah,” he said quietly. He didn’t look at Sam as
he continued. “A… A Vietnam War veteran named Jack Myerton tries to
kill Senator Blaize tonight. He hits Julianna instead.”
Sam’s
eyes widened with the additional information. “You found out who did
it?” he asked unnecessarily. Al’s simple nod and his closed eyes told
Sam that there was more going on with Al than he was letting on.
Immediately, his last leap came back to him. The words and the voice in
that Confessional were so clear in his mind that they brought back the
tears he had wept before.
“Bless
me, Father, for I have sinned… I murdered someone…”
“He’s
dead, isn’t he?” he asked quietly. “Jack Myerton’s dead.”
Al’s
head rose, clearly startled by Sam’s words. “How did…”
Sam
closed his eyes, lowering his head as he answered. “Al… I… I leaped
into a priest before I leaped here.” Raising his head, he looked into
his friend’s eyes firmly and yet sadly. “I heard a confession to
murder.” He paused, wondering how his friend would react. “It was you.
You confessed to a murder.”
Al
Calavicci looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a car, a look Sam
had never seen on the Admiral’s face. The look tore at Sam’s heart. He
hated to put Al in such a position but he also knew that what he had just
said was true.
After
a long moment, Al finally exhaled slowly, rubbing his hand over his face
before turning away from Sam. It was the only answer that Sam needed.
“What
happened, Al?” he asked the Admiral softly.
Al
focused on the handlink in silence, ignoring Sam’s sad eyes. But when he
could no longer ignore the scientist, he dropped the handlink to his side.
“I didn’t… I didn’t think about it. It just… happened,” he
answered, looking up finally. But it was clear to him that that just
wasn’t enough of an answer for the leaper. “When you leaped out
without saving Julianna… I was furious with you. I thought you’d
abandoned Jules and Jude.” He sighed softly. “I wanted justice. I
wanted the head of the bitch that killed Jude. But since I couldn’t fly
to Europe and shoot her in that prison cell she’s sitting in… and
since it looked like you weren’t going to save Jules and Jude…” He
looked at the handlink again, more as a way to collect his thoughts than
anything else, before refocusing on Sam. “When I left the Imaging
Chamber, I had Ziggy dig up every little piece of information about that
day Julianna was shot. For two days straight, I reviewed that
information.” He laughed a little sickly. “If Beth had been in town,
she would have pestered me to no end about how many hours I’d been
working. But…” He cleared his throat and then sniffed. “I found what
the police couldn’t. See, they were working with the shooter’s height,
build, clothing, et cetera. I don’t think they saw the ring on the
shooter’s hand.”
“But
you did,” Sam deduced. “You recognized it.”
Al
sniffed again before nodding. “Yeah. Jack and I served together on the
Hornet. His wife had the ring commissioned especially for their wedding
anniversary. There’s not another one like it in the world. He… he used
to take the ring off before flying out, said that it was his good luck
charm, that he would return to the ship simply because he had to put the
ring back on.” He gave a little huff. “Guess it wasn’t much of a
good luck charm because I met him in Colonel Dang’s camp three years
after I was shot down.”
“So,
you recognized your war buddy’s ring and…” Sam pressed gently,
needing to know the truth behind Al’s confession.
“I
went and confronted him,” Al admitted plainly. “I went armed… for my
own safety, mind you. Jack didn’t live in exactly the safest
neighborhood and I really wasn’t sure how he’d react to my questioning
him…”
"Why'd
you do it, Jack?" Al demanded with a glare in his eyes.
"Why?"
Jack looked at him for a long moment, as if disbelieving that Al Calavicci
would dare demand an answer from him. "Dang damned near beat you to
death in that godforsaken place more times than I can count. You saw
men drop like flies... starved... shot like dogs or worse. Why didn't you
take his nephew out the first time you got a chance? When did you become
one of those bleeding heart suck-ups, Bingo?"
Al glared at Jack’s accusation. "Blaize isn’t the one who nearly
killed us in that hell! Apparently you think his relation to Dang gives
you an excuse to go on your own little bout of displaced revenge, to hurt
innocent people just because you didn't have the satisfaction of watching
Dang die. You don't even give a damn who you put in a wheelchair for the
rest of her life!"
"Whoever that stupid bitch was that pushed him out of the way of what
he deserved, it was her own fault,” Jack snarled at him. “In my book,
anybody who gives aid and comfort to those slanted-eye bastards…
whatever hits 'em, they got it coming."
Al
had been controlling his anger throughout Jack’s rant. But, when he said
that Julianna "got it coming", Al couldn't hold that anger back
any more. He grabbed Jack’s arms and forced him against the nearest wall
before hitting him so hard that it knocked the air out of his opponent.
Without even thinking about what he was doing, Al pulled out his gun.
"You
bastard, that woman you shot is my daughter!" he screamed, aiming the
gun at Jack’s chest. "You ruined her life because of your damned
prejudice! Blood is thicker than water, Jack. Remember? And you just
FUCKED with the wrong bloodline!"
Al
closed his eyes at his own words. “I shot him. I was so… furious. I
thought I wanted justice but… all I wanted was revenge.” He bit his
lower lip for a moment before swallowing hard and then taking a deep
breath. “When I saw what I had done… I guess I was in shock. I know I
should have called the police but… I just… left. After a couple of
hours of wandering around aimlessly, I saw a church and… well… I guess
you know the rest.”
A
long silence stood between them before a word was spoken.
“Al…”
Sam started softly. “Why didn’t you turn yourself into the police?”
Al
looked at Sam for a moment. “After I left the church, Ziggy called me
and told me that you had leaped again. I guess I hoped that I wouldn’t
have to keep that part of the bargain. By the time I got back to the
complex, you’d already leaped out again.” He hesitated before looking
into his friend’s eyes. “I was about to… say my goodbyes to Beth and
the girls when you leaped again.”
Sam
didn’t say anything for a long moment. “Let’s make sure that you
won’t have to say goodbye to your family, Al. Let’s go save your
daughter and grandson.”
The
small smile and the tears on Al’s face were all the thanks that Sam
needed.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
San
Diego, California
Wednesday,
May 17th, 2006
5
days before the Conference on Ethnic Diversity
1:27PM
Nobody
seemed to take much notice of the extra body working to get the convention
center ready for the upcoming conference. Nor did they notice that the
extra man wasn’t really working at anything related to getting the
convention center ready. He walked through the center with his load,
greeting everyone amicably as he went.
Jack
Myerton had studied the layout of the convention center just as intensely
as Julianna Calavicci had, though neither of them knew that fact. In his
studying the layout, he found a crawlspace that he was absolutely certain
would be overlooked. It was the perfect hiding place for the equipment he
needed to accomplish his mission.
The
new high-powered pistol he had purchased over the Internet illegally –
it wasn’t legal to buy firearms with a false identification, online or
otherwise - was going to be the perfect weapon to shoot Senator Blaize.
Not only could the FN Herstal Five-seveN pistol be easily concealed on his
person, its bullets could easily penetrate standard Kevlar, which he had
no doubt would be wrapped around the Senator’s chest.
Looking
around to make sure that no one was looking, he opened the small
crawlspace and tucked the pistol and its ammunition safely in place. Once
the precious weapon was concealed from detection, he closed up the
crawlspace and re-covered it with the carpet that had been over it.
Confident
that the pistol was safe, Jack Myerton left the convention center. He had
the admission ticket for the conference already so he could get in right
under security’s nose. He smiled to himself as he thought about how
Colonel Trung Dang’s legacy would finally be avenged once and for all.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
San
Diego, California
Monday,
May 22nd, 2006
7:21PM
PST
The
afternoon was spent preparing for the conference, where Senator Blaize was
to be the keynote speaker. As the event grew closer, Sam found his mind
crammed full with information, having gone over the Senator’s speech
with Robert Ingles and the security measures with Julianna. He had to
admit that Julianna’s security of the convention center was excellent,
probably better than it had been before Sam had hired her as Blaize’s
bodyguard. Al even gave a few pointers for areas that Julianna missed. But
it was obviously not enough to prevent the assassination attempt that was
approaching too quickly for Sam’s liking, especially since Sam
couldn’t as yet find a way to save Julianna without causing harm to
Senator Blaize.
Blaize’s
entourage had arrived at the conference center two hours ahead of time,
enough time for Julianna to get her people in place and for Sam to receive
the preparations he needed for the convention. Julianna had absolutely
insisted that he wear a bulletproof vest.
“I
haven’t yet lost a charge if I could help it and I’m not going to
start now,” she had told him as she put the vest on Sam. “Besides, we
had this measured and made just for you to make sure that it fits properly
so you’d better wear it and not waste the taxpayers’ money.” The
vest was weighty and made Sam look bulkier than he really was but Sam had
learned long ago to never argue with anyone of Calavicci descent when they
were this adamant. Beside, it was for his protection. He was glad to see
that Julianna was wearing a bulletproof vest as well. ‘Maybe
history has changed and Julianna and Blaize are both safe.’
Sam
was finally left alone in a dressing room, ostensibly to go over his
speech in private, when he heard the Imaging Chamber door open.
“Nice
vest,” Al commented, gaining a look of surprise from Sam. “Admittedly,
the suit hides it well but anyone who knows what to look for would see it.
Fortunately, most people won’t be able to tell the difference.” He lit
a cigar for a long moment before puffing on it.
“Anything
new from Ziggy?” Getting a shake of the head from the Admiral, Sam
sighed. “So Julianna is still shot and paralyzed tonight.”
“Unless
you change history,” Al told him gently. “In about seven minutes,
Julianna is going to escort you onto that stage out there and Jack is
going to fire two rounds as you start that speech. One bullet will miss
and the other will go into Julianna’s back.”
Sam
thought about what Al told him, leaning back in the chair where he sat. As
he did so, the heavy feeling reminded him of the Kevlar protection that
surrounded his chest.
“Al,
both Julianna and I are wearing bulletproof vests. How…”
“Jack
is using armor-piercing bullets,” Al informed him sadly. “Forensics on
the bullet they pulled out of Julianna showed that an FN 5.7, a Belgian
handgun capable of firing armor-piercing rounds, was used. The vests
you’re wearing aren’t going to stop those rounds.”
Again,
Sam frowned at another thought. “How did he get into the convention
center in the first place, Al? Julianna has this place covered better than
the Secret Service covers the President of the United States. How does
anyone get into this place with a gun capable of shooting armor-piercing
bullets?”
Al
shrugged his shoulders slightly. “He probably didn’t come in armed.
People who plan these shindigs aren’t always thinking about security
issues when they pick their preferred locales. The way this place is set
up, he could have stashed a weapon in here days or even weeks ago. And,
believe me, with his military experience, he could have easily hid a gun
here without it ever being found.”
“Are
you sure?” Sam asked with a frown.
Al
gave him a hint of a glare, though his voice was filled with guilt. “I
really wasn’t much in the mood to get his modus operandi when I
confronted him… but… yeah, I’m pretty sure.”
Sam
had tucked his head in apology just before there was a knock on the door.
“Are
you ready, Senator?” Julianna asked, peeking into the small room.
“Your public awaits. I’ve double-checked everything. I can assure you,
whoever made those threats isn’t going to make good.”
“Oh,
Jules,” Al murmured sadly, looking at his daughter with affection and
sadness.
Sam
looked up at Julianna then snuck a glance at Al for a few seconds as he
slowly stood. “You know, Captain… I really haven’t been feeling well
all day…” he started, a last ditch effort to avoid either Julianna or
him being on the stage to give Al’s former comrade in arms a chance to
destroy their lives.
Julianna
shook her head with a knowing smile. “Butterflies in the stomach are
nothing for an old pro like you.”
“Sam…”
Al called out his friend’s name, pleading.
Sam
closed his eyes to his friend’s pleas then sighed as he started going
towards the door. He wasn’t sure why he wasn’t trying harder to keep
Julianna and Blaize from harm but he was absolutely certain that he was
doing what had to be done. ‘I have to save Julianna, no matter what!
I have to save the woman I love!’ But even as those thoughts ran
through his mind, Sam knew they were not his own.
“All
right, Julianna,” he said, unsure where the words were coming from.
“You’re probably right.”
“All
right?!” Al exclaimed, not believing what he heard Sam say. “All
right?! Hell, no, it isn’t all right! Sam, what the hell are you
doing?”
“I
know that I’m right,”
Julianna told him gently, too embroiled in her own excitement to even
notice the tension in the air from Al’s distress. As Sam approached, she
smiled up at him and, as he stood before her, she reached out and gently
straightened his tie, a gleam of appreciation in her eyes. “There you
go, Senator. You’ll do fine.”
Sam
stepped out of the room, his mind whirling with the knowledge of what he
was about to do and how Al would react to the decision. As he stepped out
towards the stage, he paused, feeling the tension from his holographic
partner, before he finally turned towards Julianna.
“Julianna?”
“Yes?”
she asked simply. Seeing the frown on his face, she frowned as well.
“What’s wrong?”
Sam
took a deep breath. “Call it… ESP… or whatever you want, but…”
He gently took her shoulders in his hands. “No matter what happens in
the next few minutes, don’t go out on the stage.”
“Sam,
what are you doing?” Al asked, his face slowly turning ashen in color,
beginning to get an inkling of what his best friend was doing.
“What?”
Julianna asked him, concern and curiosity clear on her face.
Sam
met her eyes for a long moment, searching them, trying to memorize them as
they looked up into his so intently. “Don’t
go on stage,” he whispered. Seeing the determination on Julianna’s
face – a determination that told him that the woman would not heed his
words, Sam gave her a slight shake. “Promise me that you won’t go on
stage, Julianna,” he demanded of her bluntly.
Sam’s
intense whisper made it clear to Al what Sam was intending to do. “No,
Sam! Don’t! Jack will kill you!”
The
slight shake startled Julianna, causing her eyes to widen. “I
promise,” she finally said, looking directly into his eyes. “Senator,
what’s this all about?”
“I’ll
tell you later,” he told her gently. “Just have your people keep their
eyes on the audience for any unusual activity. I have a feeling about
tonight and I need you back here coordinating security.” An odd
sensation came over him as he looked into her confused eyes and, once
again, an overwhelming feeling of intense love seemed to cloud his thought
processes. With Julianna’s promise still in his ears, he cupped her
cheek and smiled lovingly. “I’m counting on you.” Slowly, he lowered
his head, apparently about to kiss her. Before the kiss could reach her
lips, however, Julianna reached up and gently removed his hand.
“They’re
calling you, Senator,” she told him gently.
Sam/Tuyen
nodded slightly, looking at her with obvious affection before he turned
around and started out on the stage, smiling and waving to the applauding
audience present. He paused several times on his way to the podium to
shake hands, not even noticing Al walking beside him, fighting with the
handlink.
“Sam,
you have to get off the stage and out of sight! If you don’t, it’s YOU
Jack shoots!” The Admiral stamped his foot down hard. “Dammit, Sam!
Why aren’t you listening to me? I told you! He’s using armor-piercing
bullets! They’re going to rip right through that vest you’re wearing!
SAM!”
But
the physicist didn’t seem to be listening to the hologram. Without even
looking at Al, he stepped up to the podium, waving for the audience to
stop their applause and allow him to speak.
“Thank
you all for coming tonight as we gather for this… historic occasion,”
he started as the audience became silent with respect. “This conference
will be, I hope, the first of many to come, a conference where we gather
to celebrate our diversity and to plan for our future...”
Julianna
stood off stage as Senator Blaize began speaking, her mind still trying to
understand why he had made her promise not to go on stage as well as the
apparent attempt to kiss her. But even as she grappled with the mystery
that was Tuyen Van Blaize, she looked out into the audience and noticed a
figure slip out from behind a door, his face partially hidden under a
baseball cap. When she saw the suspicious character, she raised her left
arm and spoke into her mini-mike, which was hidden in her blouse sleeve.
“Possible
four o’clock,” she warned. She watched as the nearest officer to the
man started calmly in the direction where she had indicated. What she saw
next, however, made her forget her promise to the Senator.
“GUN!”
she screamed as she ran as quickly as she could towards the Senator. She
remembered hearing people screaming and crouching, covering their heads,
as she hurried in front of the Senator. She felt hands grabbing her arms
and moving her as loud cracks filled her ears.
“NO!”
Al shouted, fear and anger clear in his voice, as he watched Sam/Blaize
grab Julianna’s shoulders and turn around.
Julianna
gripped Sam tightly as he cried out in pain and slumped against her. A
distinctively warm sticky substance was starting to slowly seep onto her
hands, which were supporting Sam’s weight.
“Oh, gawd, no,” she whispered, knowing all too well the feel of
blood on her hands. With the sound of the gunshots still ringing in her
ears, she carefully helped Sam face-down on the floor as people screamed
and scattered, some hurrying to her side to see if the Senator was hurt.
“GET
BACK!” she ordered, forcing herself to focus on her job rather than the
anxiety that was filling her. ‘Gawd,
please don’t die! I don’t know what I’d do without you!’
“Find that bastard!” she ordered in her mini-mike as she grabbed the
nearest clean cloth napkin and carefully slipped it between the vest and
Sam’s newly created bullet wound. “And somebody help me get his jacket
and vest off! Call for an ambulance!” She wasn’t too concerned with
who was obeying the orders, as long as they were being obeyed.
Al
knelt beside his eldest daughter as she worked frantically but efficiently
to remove the jacket and vest from Sam’s unmoving but wide-awake form.
The look in Sam’s eyes reflected the agony that he was in, bringing
tears to Al’s eyes. Al warred between anger, frustration and worry for
his dear friend.
“Sam,
what the hell were you thinking, huh?” he berated him, tears falling
from his eyes.
Sam
didn’t answer the terse, emotion-filled demand. Instead, somehow, he
found a gentle smile to give his friend before succumbing to the pain and
falling unconscious.
PART
FOUR
Project
Quantum Leap
Stallion’s
Gate, New Mexico
Saturday,
December 23rd, 2006
9:16
AM CST
The
past vanished from Al’s sight, leaving him on his knees surrounded by
the sky blue walls of the Imaging Chamber. “Sam…” he whispered with
despair, burying his face into his hands.
“Doctor
Beckett has leaped,” Ziggy announced, breaking into the sorrow that had
nearly consumed the Admiral.
“He’s…
okay?” Al asked in a whisper, slowly getting to his feet. Raising his
eyes, he noticed Ziggy’s holographic form standing near him.
“My
databanks show that, when Senator Blaize returned to his own time, he was
afflicted with the wounds Dr. Beckett suffered,” Ziggy told him.
“There are numerous occasions that I can bring up in which Dr. Beckett
leaped out severely wounded and was uninjured when he arrived at his next
location. I am certain that this is one of those occasions.”
Al
exhaled noticeably, rubbing his face with his hands. “Thank God,” he
murmured. “What about Blaize?” he asked as he approached the Control
Console as if it were any other, less stressful leap. He handed the
handlink over to Dominic, who immediately began a quick diagnostic of it.
“Senator
Blaize was paralyzed from the bullet that severed his spinal cord,”
Ziggy told him. “His injury did not sway him from his political career.
He instead used it to take up the cause of the handicapped in political
offices as well as his own passion for ethnic diversity in the
government.” She paused in her recitation, as if pondering on this newly
created history. “In addition, the Senator’s would-be assassin, former
Lieutenant Jack Myerton of the United States Navy, was killed while
attempting to escape capture by Captain Calavicci’s security force.”
Al
exhaled gently at the news. While it was sad that the man he once called
friend had been killed doing such a horrible act, he was eternally
grateful that death meant that Al himself had never gone to Freedom, New
Hampshire, in an act of vengeance for his daughter.
“Al?”
Dominic Lofton put into the conversation just as Ziggy finished speaking.
“The analyst has arrived and is heading for the security office.”
Al
frowned at the black man, clearly confused by his words. Seemed like every
time he stepped out of the Imaging Chamber, something changed since the
time he went in.
“I’m
sorry, Dom. What analyst?”
Dom
raised his eyebrows slightly, a mischievous gleam in his eye. “The
analyst Admiral Beckett sent?” When Al’s face still wore a confused
frown, Dom continued. “The one who is overseeing the installation of the
new security system you requested?”
“Tom
approved that request?” Al questioned, getting a knowing nod from the
head programmer. Al took a breath and exhaled. “Guess I’d better meet
this guy then.” He didn’t notice the slight look of concern on Dom’s
face when he left the Control Room.
“Daniel,
you look great!” came the distinctively feminine voice from the security
office as Al walked towards it. “Lieutenant Commander. Who would have
guessed? And here I thought you’d never get passed the rank of
Lieutenant JG.” Her words were greeted with amicable laughter as Al
stepped into the room.
“Daddy!”
Julianna exclaimed when she saw her father come in. Immediately, she
walked over and gave him a hug. “You feel so good!”
“Jules,
what are you doing here?” Al asked her, returning the hug before gently
pulling away from her.
She
laughed at his question. “It’s Christmas Eve, Daddy! Where else would
I be?” Seeing the confused look on Al’s face, a frown formed on hers.
“Dad, are you okay? What’s wrong?” She brushed his hair gently,
testing in her own way whether her father had a temperature while looking
briefly at Daniel.
Al
gently took her hand off of his head and held it. “I’m fine, Jules.
It’s just… it’s been a rough leap. I really thought we might have
lost Sam this time.”
Jules
smiled warmly at him. “Well, I know you too well, Dad. You’d never let
that happen.” She gently guided him towards the door, changing the
subject when she saw the sad look on her father’s face.
“Come
on, Dad. Mama Beth made me promise to get you home in plenty of time to
change for the party tonight. Everyone else is going to be there –
Donna, Tina… everyone.” She turned to Daniel who nodded with a smile,
indicating that he, Sammy Jo and their daughter Isabella would most
definitely be there. Satisfied with his unspoken response, she turned back
to her father. “It wouldn’t do for the host to not be there as well.
Besides… who’s going to introduce me to all the newer staff
members?”
Al
conceded the point to Julianna as the two left the complex to prepare for
the evening’s celebration.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The
annual Project Quantum Leap Christmas party was hopping. The reserved hall
was beautifully decorated in bright colors and silvery streamers as well
as a large Christmas tree in one corner, making it impossible for anyone
who came into the room not to get into the holiday spirit. Inside, staff
members danced with their chosen dates, most with ‘significant others’
who worked with them in the complex. A few had dates that knew about
Project Quantum Leap but didn’t actually work there.
One
such couple was Ensign Ed Sharpe and his fiancée Christa Calavicci.
Christa had known about Project Quantum Leap since its inception,
primarily because it was necessary for Al to explain to the then teenage
girl why her “Uncle” Sam had vanished off the face of the Earth. Now,
as the two danced to the soft melodies playing over the speakers, both
could only think of their upcoming wedding and how good they felt in each
other’s arms.
Al
couldn’t help but smile at the contented look on his youngest
daughter’s face. He really liked Ed Sharpe, a fact that seriously
surprised him considering the beaus his other daughters had chosen. He had
never liked any of them, even when they were actually very nice men. Well,
most of them were. He still couldn’t see what Jackie saw in Jeremy
Weitzman, her first husband, nor could he see what Vickie saw in that
stripper… what was his name? And poor Julianna just seemed to have the
worst luck in finding the right man. ‘Well, I know Eddie is going to
work out for Christa. And Liz hasn’t made any definitive decision on
anyone, though she lately has been talking about possibly going into
religious vocations. Imagine that! My little Liz is thinking about
becoming a nun! Who would have thought that would happen in my family?’
“Penny
for your thoughts,” Beth murmured to him as they danced, gaining Al’s
attention.
“Huh?”
Beth
smiled widely. “You’re drifting in the ozone, honey. What are you
thinking about?”
Al
grinned broadly at her. “Oh, just that… I am the luckiest man in the
whole world to have a beautiful wife and five beautiful daughters, one who
finally got the right man.”
She
chuckled lightly at his words. “Now that isn’t exactly true and you
know it. Just because you don’t like Michael doesn’t mean he isn’t
the right man for Jackie. Maybe third time is her charm.”
“Yeah…
well…” Al started and then exhaled a defeat against his wife’s
logic.
“Great
comeback,” Beth teased as the song finished. She kissed Al gently and
pulled him off the dance floor and towards the refreshment tables so
carefully set up to give off the illusion that everyone was in a Christmas
fantasy world.
“Al?”
she asked her eyes focused on the main entrance to the hall. “Who is
that with Julianna?”
Al
turned his head to look and raised his eyebrows. There was no mistaking
the Asian-American man sitting in a wheelchair next to Julianna, who was
leading Jude by the hand into the room.
“It’s
Senator Blaize,” he told Beth and then frowned. Thinking for a moment,
he started towards the entrance, telling Beth, “I’ll be right back.”
It didn’t stop Beth from following him.
“PAPA!
NANA!” Jude immediately exclaimed, seeing his grandparents coming
towards him. Julianna did nothing to stop the young boy from running over
to each of them to give them extra large hugs and kisses.
“Hey
there, little sailor!” Al beamed at the boy, picking him up.
“I
missed you, Papa! Nana!” Jude told them plainly, making sure that they
both knew exactly just how much.
“We
missed you too, sweetheart,” Beth assured him, taking him from Al’s
arms to hold him for a moment before putting him back on his feet. She
took his hand and, with a nod from Jules, guided her grandson towards the
refreshment tables.
“Good
evening, Senator,” Al greeted Blaize politely once Beth and Jude were on
their way. He didn’t really hear the Senator’s cordial response as he
looked at Julianna with a raised eyebrow. She smiled gently in return
before speaking.
“Senator
Blaize is my guest for this evening, Dad.” The wide-eyed look of
surprise on her father’s face encouraged her to continue. “He actually
remembers absolutely everything concerning Dr. Beckett leaping into
him.”
“Everything?”
Al questioned with skepticism.
“Yes,
Admiral, everything. Including some rather uncomfortable situations that
occurred between you and Dr. Beckett.” Getting a stunned expression as a
response, he told Al, “Julianna has explained the concept of psycho-synergizing.
It really does explain a lot of what I remember from Dr. Beckett leaping
to save my life and Julianna’s life. When you see him again, please tell
him thank you from me.”
“Yes,
sir,” Al told him, clearly uncomfortable with what he just learned.
Blaize
gave him a patient smile. “Admiral, let me assure you that I bear no ill
feelings towards you. My late uncle was a monster and what he did is
unforgivable. I can understand how my unfortunate relationship to him can
cause discomfort to others. I hope, however, that will not be the case
between you and me.”
Al
let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He didn’t realize
until he received it how much he wanted forgiveness for the rash racist
word he’d used to describe Blaize. After all, Blaize was not anything
like his sadistic uncle. He cared about people with a passion. Even when
he was recovering from the bullet he had taken to save Julianna’s life,
he emphasized that the reason he was shot in the first place – racism -
still existed in the country and that he would continue his fight against
racism in all its forms. He continued to fight for ethnic diversity in the
United States government but, thanks to his own new handicap, he also
began a campaign to end prejudice based on physical limitations. Al was a
little disappointed to find out that the Senator had decided to retire
from politics that coming January.
“I
assure you, Senator,” Al replied to his statement of hope, “that will
never be the case between you and me.” He gave him a smile. “Now,
since you are here and are a welcome guest, allow me to introduce you to a
few people.”
Guiding
the couple over to his wife, Al made the first introduction for Senator
Blaize as the party continued in its merriment. As Julianna went into the
small crowd to become reacquainted with her former associates and friends,
Tuyen gained Al’s attention.
“Admiral,
may I speak to you in private?”
Al
looked at him with a slightly raised eyebrow before guiding him out of the
room. “What can I do for you, Senator?” he asked, clearly wanting to
return to the party.
He
almost chuckled from Al’s directness. “Now I know where Julianna gets
it,” he murmured gently. He could feel Al’s eyes on him, waiting for
him to cut to the chase. “Of course,” he said with a slight nod to
himself before focusing solely on Al. “Admiral, I am not sure how to say
this so I will just come right out with it. I am deeply, intensely in love
with your daughter, sir, and I am asking you for her hand in marriage.”
Al
stared at Tuyen for a long moment, stunned by the sudden declaration. ‘Surely, he can’t be serious!’ “You want to marry Julianna,”
he stated plainly, making sure that he understood what Tuyen was saying.
Getting an emphatic, “Yes, sir,” Al leaned against a wall and looked
at him inquisitively. “And you’re asking my permission?”
Tuyen
took a breath. “Julianna looks up to you, Admiral. Heck, she practically
puts you on a pedestal. What you think matters to her and so it matters to
me. She is truly a remarkable woman and I can’t imagine spending the
rest of my life without her.”
Al
looked at him quizzically before asking a question that, when asked by
someone else, had nearly earned the man a trip through the nearest wall.
“Did you sleep with her?”
The
stunned look on Tuyen’s face gave Al the answer before the words even
came. “Not that it’s any of your business, Admiral, but no. I respect
her too much for that. Besides her raising Jude Catholic and it not being
right to expose him to something that goes completely against the
Church’s teachings, I don’t believe in pre-marital sex.”
It
was Al’s turn to be surprised. “You mean you’re a…” He didn’t
finish the question, getting a glare from Tuyen. “Okay, okay!” he
said, raising his hands in surrender to the brief conflict. “It’s just
that Julianna’s been hurt one too many times and I don’t want her to
be hurt again.”
“I
completely understand, Admiral. I don’t want her to be hurt either. That
is why I came to you first. If you prefer that I not marry her… as
painful as that decision would be to me… I will respect it.”
Al
just looked at the man before him, fascinated and amazed by him. ‘He probably hasn’t even kissed her, if he’s that serious.’
Immediately, he was reminded of the day he met Beth. He hardly even knew
her and he proposed to her on his knee, on the spot, on that sidewalk, not
caring if anyone saw him making a fool of himself. He was in love with her
the moment he laid eyes on her. And now, he could see the young foolish
Naval officer he was behind Tuyen Van Blaize’s eyes. Al could see that
Tuyen didn’t love Julianna; he worshipped her.
“Have
you proposed to her yet?” Al asked. When Tuyen just gently shook his
head, he gave a little grin. “Well, then… no time like the present.”
Seeing the pleased look on Tuyen’s face, Al left the Senator and
returned to the hall.
An
hour passed before Al went up to the center of the room and asked for
everyone’s attention. It didn’t take long for him to get it. Looking
around the room, his wife at his side, Donna and Stephen nearby, he waited
to make sure that everyone had a glass of champagne in hand.
“We
gather every year, all the staff and those family and friends who are in
the know, as it were, and every year it still doesn’t feel quite right
because we are missing one person. So… raise your glasses and join me
again in our one Christmas wish,” Al said gently, raising his own glass
and waiting for all to do the same. “Sam, come home and stay home.”
To
resounding agreement, all drank from their glasses before Al waved his
hand that he wasn’t done.
“We
have two people here who have been dearly missed. Jules, I’m glad you
and Jude are home. I’m glad you are both safe. And I’m glad to have
you back at Project Quantum Leap. The complex has been barren without your
strength and your humor.” After several “Here, here” comments, all
took a drink of their champagne.
“PRESENT
TIME!” Stephen called out, grabbing Al’s hand and practically pulling
him towards the large Christmas tree. Al looked pleadingly towards Beth
and Donna who just giggled at the predicament he had suddenly found
himself. Soon, nearly everyone was gathered around the tree, waiting for
the Admiral, Stephen, and Jude to play Santa and his little helpers.
Tuyen
Blaize took the general melee as his chance to get Julianna alone. He
gently took Julianna’s hand and pulled her down so that he could whisper
in her ear.
“I
need to talk to you alone,” he told her mysteriously before wheeling
himself to the other side of the room.
Julianna
looked around for a moment before following, wondering what her dearest
friend had in mind. Tuyen and she had been practically inseparable since
the attempt on his life. She was there in the hospital every day to give
him companionship – he had no living family. And when he went into
physical therapy to learn how to use his wheelchair, she was his
cheerleader, encouraging him and helping him. In return, Tuyen made sure
that she had the best legal counsel for the upcoming custody suit. When it
became obvious to both of them that their relationship was more than that
of employer and employee, Tuyen released her from her contract, allowing
her to accept Admiral Beckett’s offer for a position back at Project
Quantum Leap.
Tuyen
knew Julianna well now. He knew that security technology was her first
love, the Navy was her second, and he was very likely her third. But that
wasn’t going to stop him from his own goals. And to achieve his primary
goal, he just needed a moment of peace with her in an ideal setting. This
room, decorated so elegantly and so cheerfully, was that ideal setting.
Positioning
himself just so, he watched Julianna approach him. ‘I
couldn’t have been more right! She’s never looked lovelier than right
now, especially with how the silver decorations sparkle behind her
beautiful face.’ He smiled widely at the sight.
Seeing
the look on his face, Julianna chuckled slightly. “Tuyen, what is it?
You’re up to something. I can tell.” When he didn’t answer, she
pulled up a chair so that she was eye-to-eye with him. “You’ve got
that mischievous look, Senator,” she teased.
Tuyen
didn’t say anything for a moment before he took a breath and let it out.
“I wanted to get you in private to present my Christmas gift to you.”
Slowly, he brought a hand up and presented a rose to her.
The
surprise on Julianna’s face was priceless. “How did you hide that?”
she asked with amazement as she took the rose. Only when it was in hand
did she notice the diamond ring delicately tied to its stem. “Oh,
my…” she started, covering her mouth with shock as the meaning of that
ring came to light.
Tuyen
gently reached over to take her free hand and hold it. “Julianna, I’ve
been saving myself for the right woman. I’ve looked high and low for
her. And then I literally ran into her on a beautiful morning in May. All
I need to know now is… will she marry me?”
Julianna’s
eyes shifted slowly from the diamond ring on the rose to Tuyen’s
infatuated look, not knowing how to speak. Never liking her emotions
getting the better of her, she first bit her lip before she realized that
it was pointless to hide her reaction to this unexpected proposal.
“Yes,”
she finally said, looking at her dearest friend in the world as a tear
escaped her eye. “Yes, she’ll marry you.” Quickly getting up from
her chair, she leaned in to wrap her arms around Tuyen, hugging him
tightly before kissing him passionately. “I’ll marry you, Tuyen Van
Blaize. Any time, any day.”
Tuyen’s
smile couldn’t have been any bigger as he pulled her into his lap and
kissed her. “I love you, Julianna Sherman-Calavicci,” he whispered to
her. Very delicately, he untied the diamond ring from the rose’s stem
and slipped it on her finger. The two then just sat holding each other,
basking in each other’s love in their private moment. Neither noticed as
most of the gifts were properly distributed – the ones still under the
tree were for absent staff members, including Julianna – and the music
began again, encouraging everyone to dance.
I'm
alone. Yeah, I don't know if I can face the night.
I'm in tears and the cryin' that I do is for you.
I want your love. Let's break the walls between us.
Don't make it tough. I'll put away my pride.
Enough's enough. I've suffered and I've seen the light.
Baby, You're my angel. Come and save me tonight.
You're my angel. Come and make it all right.
Don't know what I'm gonna do about this feeling inside.
Yes, it's true. Loneliness took me for a ride.
Without your love, I'm nothing but a beggar.
Without your love, a dog without a bone.
What can I do? I'm sleepin’ in this bed alone.
Baby, You're my angel. Come and save me tonight.
You're my angel. Come and make it all right.
Come and save me tonight.
You're the reason I live. You're the reason I die.
You're the reason I give when I break down and cry.
Don't need no reason why.
Baby, Baby, Baby.
You're my angel. Come and save me tonight.
You're my angel. Come and make it all right.
Come and save me tonight. ***
Jules
smiled at the appropriateness of the lyrics as she gently laid her head on
Tuyen’s shoulder. He was her angel both in name – for she learned that
“Tuyen” means “Angel” in Vietnamese – and in reality. Who needs
Christmas presents? She was sitting in the lap of the best Christmas
present ever.
EPILOGUE
A
voice, coming from everywhere and nowhere, said, “Sam, you have done
very well. You have met all obstacles head-on and exceeded my wildest
expectations.”
“Does
that mean I can go home now?”
“Unfortunately,
no. Your destiny has yet to be fulfilled.”
“I
thought you said that I control my own destiny.”
“You
do, but you have yet to accept that fact. Right now, it’s your own
subconscious need to continue that is driving your leaps, and before you
are done, it will take you on your most arduous leaps yet.”
“Do
you mean the leaps are going to get even tougher? I don’t think I could
handle it if they were any tougher.”
“You
can handle it. Remember the past and apply what you have learned, and you
will get through it just fine.”
Sam
was just about to ask the voice what it meant when he felt the familiar
tugging of an impending leap. “No, no, not yet. I’m not ready to
go.”
“Good
luck, Sam.”
Just
like that, the voice was gone and Sam found himself in new surroundings.
As they came into focus, he looked to his left and saw three cubicles. In
each station was a computer terminal with a woman sitting behind it.
Behind him and to his right, he saw an attractive young redheaded woman
that looked to be about twenty-three years old and five feet nine inches
tall, running a drive-thru.
Finally
realizing where he was, Sam heard a voice say, “Hey Nate, are you going
to give me my thousand dollars, or are you going to bring it home for me
too?”
For
the first time, Sam looked ahead of him and saw a balding man with a
potbelly. This man was easily in his fifties and smelled slightly of
alcohol. “Oh, sorry,” said Sam before quickly counting the cash. He
counted one thousand dollars in hundred dollar bills before reaching up
and tearing the gentleman’s receipt off the printer. Quickly glancing at
the receipt, he saw that the man did indeed withdraw the thousand dollars
and that his name was Bruce Trillo. “Here you go, Mr. Trillo.”
Sam
handed Mr. Trillo the money and the bottom copy of the receipt but saw
that the man was just standing there. “Is there anything else I can help
you with today, sir?”
“Don’t
you need me to sign the receipt?”
“Oh,
right, sorry,” said a slightly red-faced Sam. Remembering a little too
late that his own bank always made him sign for withdrawals, Sam put the
top copy of the receipt on the counter.
Mr.
Trillo signed it before saying, “What has gotten into you today, kid?”
Then,
without waiting for an answer, Bruce Trillo turned and started to walk
toward the door when he distinctly heard Nate say, “Oh boy.”
*
- For this phone conversation, read ep. 1127: “And
Then Darkness Falls” by MJ Cogburn
**
- The FN 5.7 pistol and its capabilities are real. The gun and its
ammunition are legal and, shockingly, are available to the general public.
Visit http://www.bradycampaign.org/ler/fnh/
for more information.
***
- “Angel” by Aerosmith, Permanent Vacation, Geffen Records,
Copyright 2001
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