Date: Fri, 16 Apr 1999 15:36:32 -0600 (MDT) From: "Katherine R. Freymuth" Subject: Mirror - part 24 Message-ID: Quantum Leap Mirror of Deception by Katherine Freymuth and Gary Marsh Copyright 1998 Part 24 Al sat at the conference table, taking a cigarette from a pack he had found in his assigned quarters. He lit the cigarette with a Bic lighter and took a breath on it, allowing the cigarette's contents to calm his nerves and to stop the shaking he had earlier that day. As he puffed on the cigarette, he listened intently to the conversation the others were having at the table. "The Director is not pleased with our lack of progress regarding Beckett," Zoe told the others, smiling mentally at Al's use of the cigarettes. "We came close with Albert's latest leap but not close enough." She leaned forward in her chair, looking into each person's eyes with intensity. "We need a solution. Fast." Thames, a tall black man whose taste in clothing could be deemed extreme, teepeed his fingers just above his chest. "It would help if we had a way to track Beckett. Every time we've run across him, it's been coincidental. If we can track him, we could have a plan - a mission that a leaper can accomplish - and we could have the upper hand on him." "We had the upper hand on him before," a deep voice replied. The owner of the voice looked at Thames firmly. "We failed then." "Ah, but we had Alia then, Dr. Drescoll," Thames replied. He looked at Al with a malicious smile. "We have Calavicci now." Al didn't react to Thames' comment or smile. He put out his cigarette and looked at Thames firmly. "What did you have in mind?" he questioned. "You were once Beckett's partner," Thames told him. "Perhaps we can use that to our advantage." He looked towards Drescoll. "What do you think, Drescoll? Could we use Calavicci to find Beckett?" Al frowned at the manner in which Thames had spoken. He didn't like the way Thames viewed him as a tool rather than a team member. He was going to have to teach the overblown, overdressed security chief a lesson. Later. Dr. Genesius Drescoll, on the other hand, ignored Thames' choice of words and focused on answering the question. As the chief programmer, designer, and technician, he knew what was possible to do and what wasn't. He exhumed confidence, even arrogance, in his work. A large man in stature, few got on his bad side and those who were regretted they had ever annoyed him. After much thought, he nodded ever so slightly. "Yes, provided the link between Calavicci and Beckett is still active." He looked at Al firmly. "It will be dangerous, however. The strain on your neurons and mesons could cause permanent damage if it is done incorrectly." Al raised his eyebrows slightly. "Are you saying you are uncertain about your ability to pull it off?" Drescoll lowered his eyelids dangerously at Al. "Careful, sir. My hand might slip during the process." It was an obvious threat. "Enough," Zoe told them. She looked at Al firmly. "It's up to you, Albert. How badly do you want your revenge?" Al took a deep breath, his eyes having not left Drescoll's. "Let's nail him." "I don't like this," Thames told Zoe as they walked down towards the Control Centre. "Sending Calavicci out again, this time right into Beckett's lap.... I know you need him alive to maintain the link but why don't you just let 'Snooze Control' fry his brain? Send one of our own, someone who'll get the job done." Zoe laughed slightly. "If Drescoll heard you call him that, you'd be dead." She paused and looked at him. "Or worse." She shook her head, looking forward again. "Calavicci is integral to the plan, Thames. Who better to kill Beckett than the person who knows him the most?" Thames raised an eyebrow. "Do you really want an answer to that?" Zoe ignored him. "Calavicci hates Beckett, thanks to me and Drescoll's machine. Beckett will have to kill or be killed himself." She smiled. "Either way, we win." Thames frowned. "That's assuming Calavicci will still want to kill him when he meets him in the past." "He will," Zoe assured. "I'll see to it." Verbina awoke after a restless sleep. She kept thinking of Al and of what kind of condition he had to be. It worried her greatly. Where was he? What was happening with him? Who was this woman for whom he had fallen? She sat on the edge of her bed, feeling a little ill. Her head hurt, had hurt since she went to bed the night before. But it seemed to be getting worse with every passing minute. It had woken her several times during the night and, despite several doses of pain relievers, had not gone completely. She began to stand but returned to her seated position, forced into it by her pounding headache. She touched her temples gently but found the normally relaxing act merely made the ache worse. Slowly, she moved her hand and pressed a button on her night stand. "Infirmary," she ordered the connection. The sound of her own voice made her wince. "MacArthyr," came the response to the call. "Dan," Verbina said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Could you come to me quarters? There's a problem." "What's wrong?" Dan asked with great concern. "My head is pounding," she replied after a long moment. Tears began to form in her eyes as she fought the pain. "Verbina, lay down and cover your eyes," he ordered. "I'm on my way." She did what he told her and waited. It seemed to take forever but, only a few minutes later, Dan arrived, great concern on his face and a small bag in his hands. "I'm here," he said quietly, slowly moving her arm away from her eyes. He gently examined her eyes and nodded slightly to himself. "Have you taken anything for it?" he asked. "Enough that I should be numb," she replied as firmly as she could handle without aggravating the ache. "How much is that?" "About seven or eight doses." Dan looked at her carefully. "That much?" Verbina didn't answer but closed her eyes to ease the pain. Dan exhaled gently. "Okay, what did you take? Acetametaphine?" "Yes," Verbina answered in a whisper, wishing she could block out Dan's voice for only a moment but knowing she couldn't. She suddenly felt extraordinarily nauseous and knew that she had to do something about it. Standing quickly, she hurried to her bathroom, Dan following with great concern. He held her loose, kinky hair back as she emptied her stomach. When she had finished, he held her gently in his arms as she shook uncontrollably. "I'm scared, Dan," she told him quietly. "It's okay, Verbina," he replied. "We'll get through this." He took a slow breath. "You must be going through some kind of withdrawal." "From that stuff?" Verbina questioned in an almost childlike manner. "Very likely," he answered. She hesitated a moment, letting her shaking subside a bit while in his arms. "The mouse, did it go through this?" she asked. Dan hesitated. He had hoped it would not come to this but he had to tell her the truth. "Verbina, the mouse is dead." Verbina looked at him with shock. "What?" He looked at her gently. "It went through similar withdrawal symptoms and... it died from them." Her shaking became more frantic. He held her closer to him. "You're not a mouse, Verbina. You'll be okay." He took a breath. "But let's get you to the infirmary so I can help you through this. Okay?" She nodded slightly at his words and closed her eyes at the increased pain the action produced. Slowly, Dan let her out of her quarters and to the infirmary, encouraging her to keep her eyes closed against the bright light.