Date: Thu, 5 Dec 1996 18:50:49 -0700 (MST) From: "Katherine R. Freymuth" Subject: Coup D'etat - Chapter 17 Message-ID: MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII Chapter 17: War Games Sam did as he was told. He bought 10,000 shared in what would later become America Online. And he hated every minute of it. He had bought the stock using forged signatures and I.D.s. It wook a lot of careful planning simply to arrange it so Cheryl wouldn't later be arrested for fraud and he wasn't sure he insured that. His conscious was playing a a tap dance in his head but the only music that seemed to go with the dance was Beethoven's sixth symphony. DA DA DA DUM, DA DA DA DUM. It wasn't very encouraging. Worse than that, Al had not yet shown up and it had been two days since their last contact. Sam was beginning to sweat. What could have happened to him? And what of this General Burke who had taken over the complex? Would Al be able to regain control? How could Sam help? He felt completely helpless. The situations with Cheryl's family wasn't going very well either. Neither Alex nor Christina were speaking to each other or him. The Dover house was as quite as the proverbial tomb. As the three of them sat at dinner, nothing could be heard but the slattering of silver against Corningware and the slosh of tea in tall drinking glasses. The quiet was beginning to get on Sam's nerves to the point that, if someone didn't say something soon, he wouldd scream. "Oh, isn't this a lively room?" a husky voice interrupted the silence, making Sam jump. The clattering of Sam's fork on his plate as he jumped caught the attention of Cheryl's parents for only a moment. Seeing no cause for alarm, they turned back to their meals without saying a word. Al huffed. "Very lively room," he muttered as Sam stood up from the table, excusing himself politely to non-hearing ears. Sam led Al to the living room where they could talk in private. Cloosing the door of the living room, he turned on his partner. "Al, what's going on? Where have you been?" he asked, a hint of concern in his angry voice. "Locked in an empty storage room. Ask another stupid question," Al retaliated. "What?" Sam questioned. "Look," Al told him quickly, "we don't have time for semantics. I have maybe two minutes before the cavalry comes busting in so just listen. Okay? Ziggy says that you've changed history since I last saw you." "Tell me about it," Sam muttered. "Sam, you shouldn't have bought that stock," Al said quietly. "Well, what other choice did I have?" Sam retaliated. "I mean, you were nowhere to be seen and I... well, I... wasn't sure what would happen to you if... I didn't." Al gave him a slight smile. "Thanks, Sam. It's not really your fault." He looked at him solemnly in the eyes. "But it will be if Cheryl goes to prison." "She's caught?" Sam said quietly. "Tried and convicted of embezzlement. Her parents blamed each other for her embezzling and they never reconciled. Christina committed suicide and Alex... well, he just disappeared. Ziggy thinks he might be in Tibet or India learning how to get in touch with himself." "No," Sam moaned. "What's worse is Burke still has those 10,000 shares. Once he realized how valuable they could be, he bought them up with his own money. The bastard's making a mint on other people's misery!" Sam sighed. "So what do I do?" Al lowered his eyelids. "You're the scientist! Think of something!" He paused, as if listening. "Oh, shit!" He looked at Sam as he pressed several buttons on the handlink. "Time's up, Sam. Just keep Cheryl out of jail and get the family back together. I'll try to contact you later." The Imaging Chamber door opened and Al disappeared into the white rectangular light which vanished as the door closed. Sam sighed. "Easier said than done," he muttered as he left the living room to return to the dining room. By this time, Alex was standing up from the table with a sigh. Christina was removing dishes from the table quickly, as if to avoid having to look or talk to her husband. The stifling quiet was driving Sam crazy and he knew the only way to stop it would be to force Christina and Alex to talk to each other. Even argue. Anything was better than this! He thought he knew how to do it too. "Dad," Sam spoke up before Alex left the room, "there's something I want to tell you." "This doesn't have to do with me and your mother, does it?" Alex complained. "No," Sam answered. "But I think Mom should hear this too." "Then you'd better go get her," Alex answered. "I'll be in the living room." Sam lowered his eyelids in anger and frustration. "Dad, sit down," he said, standing in Alex's way to prevent him from leaving. "I said I'll be in the living room," Alex repeated, trying to get around Sam. "Sit down!" Sam ordered loudly. Ale stepped back in shock. He had never seen Cheryl so forceful in his life. Heacing a sigh, he consented, figuring that whatever would could his daughter to get so passionate must be very important. Sam closed the dining room's double-doors, isolating the room and the kitchen from the rest of the house. "Mom, could you come in here for a minute?" he shouting, blocking the doors. Christina came into the dining room, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She stopped when she saw that Alex hadn't left and started back. "Mom, sit down," Sam told her. "There's something I have to tell both of you." Christina huffed. "Well, you'll just have to tell me later. I have work to do." She started back again. "The dishes can wait," Sam told her. "Sit down." Christina glared at him. "Please," he added. She sat down at the end of the table hesitantly, away from Alex. "Up here, Mom," Sam told her firmly. "By Dad." Christina started to protest but stopped when she saw the determination in Sam's eyes. She stood and went to the designated chair, not looking at Alex. Finally, having Christina and Alex seated close to each other, Sam took a deep breath. "Mom. Dad. I am a criminal." ************************************ "Al!" Beth exclaimed as Al came out of the Imaging Chamber. She quickly went up to him and hugged him firmly with great concern. "I'm okay," he assured her, kissing her on her forehead gently. "See? Not a scratch." He held her head gently so that she could see his face. "'Not a scratch'?" Beth exclaimed. "You look awful!" She gently touched his neck. Al flinched slightly. His neck was still very sore. Beth frowned. "What did they do to you?" Al smiled at her. "I promise you. I'm fine. A little sore, but fine." He looked over Beth's shoulder to see General Burke standing regally with Stewart at his side. Burke glowered at Al deep hatred in his eyes. "You're very good, Admiral," he stated as Beth shifted around so as to be beside her husband. "I'd say almost magical. How did you get out of that room?" He sighed. "I suppose it doesn't really matter. We'll find your accomplice soon enough." Al frowned. "Accomplice?" "You had to have one," Stewart answered him. "It's the only way you could have gotten out." "What have you told Dr. Beckett?" Burke demanded suddenly. "What?" Al questioned. Burke shook his head in disappointment. He walked slwoly towards Al. "Don't treat me like an idiot, Admiral. You told Dr. Beckett something. So, what was it? No, wait. Let me guess. You told him what he's 'really there to do'," he surmized, emphasizing his quote with fingered quotation marks. "How very disappointing. I really expected better from you." "Did you expect me to just sit around and let you change history for your own good rather than for the general good?" Al retaliated. Burke laughed. "You're behind the historical times, Admiral. Or hasn't your clever computer told you?" Burke paused. Al didn't say a word. Burke turned his head slightly towards Ziggy's hanging sphere. "Ziggy, tell the Admiral what changes in history have occurred due to my acquirement of those 10,000 shares in America Online." "The General's ownership of the stock allowed him to make some minor changes in the Los Angeles Police Department by donating thirteen thousand dollars to the LAPD," Ziggy informed. "The donation allowed the LAPD to increasee their police force by ten caucasian officers, causing an increased ratio of caucasian officers to African-American officers." Al frowned, walking over to the control console. "Ziggy?" "Yes, Admiral?" "Did this change prevent the Los Angeles Riots of 1990?" "No." Al's mouth curled slightly. He wasn't sure whether he was very happy about that. Despite everything, he hoped that the riots would have been prevented, even though Burke made a mint. "Were there any changes involving the L.A. riots?" he asked. "There were ten additional injuries," Ziggy reported. "Unfortunately, those ten injuries were the ten additional caucasian officers that the LAPD hired." Al huffed. He glared at Burke. "Well, you really changed history for the better," he sneered. Burke smiled patiently. "Patience, Albert. Patience. All we need is for Dr. Beckett to leap and it will happen." "Like hell it will," Al growled under his breath. Burke smiled widely. "Oh ye of little faith. Colonel, please escort Admiral Calavicci to his quarters. And, Mrs. Calavicci, I would appreciate if you went to your quarters as well." Beth walked towards Al. "If you don't mind, I'd like to go with my husband. It appears he has a very bad bruise which wasn't there two days ago." She finished this last sentence with a hateful glare at Burke. Burke, choosing to ignore the leer, bowed his head in consent and watched as Al, Beth, and Stewart left the room. *************************** "Senator, we have a problem," the tall brown-haired, blue-eyed man told the senator sitting behind the desk. The man, dressed in a white Naval uniform, was well-built and looked much younger than he really was, despite his hair, which was graying at the temples. "What kind of problem, Admiral?" the senator replied. "Normally, admirals from Naval Intelligence do not make appointments to see committee members who are not involved with Naval Intelligence." The senator, who was al least a good three inches taller than the Admiral, stood up and took a seat on a leather couch placed against one wall of the spacious office. The Admiral laughed. It was a light, friendly laugh that made one think he was still a young ensign just learning to be an officer. "True, sir. However, this does involve one of your projects. It has come to our attention that Admiral and Captain Calavicci have disappeared." Senator Weitzman's eyes widened. "Albert as well as Beth? Well, we do have a problem, don't we? Bad enough to have a Surgeon General disappear but her husband, an admiral, as well? Not good for public relations at all." "Precisely, sir. The President wants this matter solved as soon as possible and, since I know Admiral Calavicci, I've been placed in charge of the operation." "You know the Admiral?" Weitzman asked with some surprise. "My brother is a friend of his." Wietzman nodded with understanding. "Yes. Of course." He stood up and began to pace. He could never stand still when he was agitated. "What are your plans, Admiral?" The Admiral raised his head a bit. "We have reason to believe that they are being held hostage by an ex-military officer of your acquaintance." "Really?" Weitzman turned to him. "Who?" "Albert Whitefeather Burke," the Admiral answered carefully. Weitzman smiled is disbelief. "Al Burke? You can't be serious!" "I am very serious, sir. Army and Naval Intelligence has been investigating him for some time now, especially after that escapade with Cuba. We found some interesting evidence against him. One: in 1986, a young woman named Cheryl Dover embezzled 10,000 shared in America Online under the General's name. The General denied involvement and there was nothing to pin on him. Both Dover and Burke claimed to have never met each other." "She had never heard of him?" The Admiral smiled slightly. "You don't hear about anonymous army colonels when you're in Omaha. There's also the General's military record to think about. He's often expressed his rather un-democratic view of the place of the military, especially after Cuba." "You think he's planning some kind of coup d'etat?" The Admiral frowned at the words. "It's quite possible, sir. We also found evidence that he's been tapping into the Pentagon mainframe using a stolen identification code. This code belonged to Admiral William Fairbanks, the Chief of the U.S. Navy." Weitzman looked at the Admiral carefully. "I know who Fairbanks was. And you say Burke used his code illegally?" "We traced the computer link-up to an abandoned warehouse. No one had been there in years. Os so it seemed until yesterday. A construction crew who were tearing down the building found a severed hand and eye in a plastic bag under the floor boards. DNA testing showed them to be Fairbanks'. I've have the construction stopped until we've examined the area more thoroughly." "But nothing concrete to link all this with Burke," Weitzman surmized. "No, sir. But it was enough to send an agent undercover in answer to a mysterious advertisment. The agent confirmed last week that the ad was sent by Burke. We haven't heard anything from the agent since. With Admiral and Mrs. Calavicci's disappearances at the same time, I find cause for suspicion of Burke." Weitzman sat down again. "I see your point. So, what do you want with me?" The Admiral sighed. "I need some way to contact our agent, whom I believe is with General Burke and, I hope, Admiral Calavicci. I'd like to start by questioning the staff of your project to see if they can help us locate Admiral Calavicci and his wife, find out where they were last seen. Their daughters came to us to report their parents' disappearances. The last they knew, Al and Beth went to Holloman Air Force Base to work. This means they were expected at the Project Quantum Leap complex. The question is: did they get there or not?" The Admiral looked at him intensely. "If they did get there and they didn't leave, we have a situation on our hands." Weitzman had to think about his words. "Very well, Admiral. Do what you must." ---------------------------------------- We like feedback! Please, tell us what you think! Rob and Kat Freymuth