The Victor Project (26 page)

     “You
’re secure,” said Kroil to John with a tap on the head.

     “Talk into the mic,” said John pointing to the helmet.

      Stiller quickly put his helmet on.

     “I said without that laser the crap floating out there will strike this station,” Stiller repeated.

     “If I’m right, the one mounted on Q-deck should pick up the tracking for both when this one becomes disabled,” said John.

     “And if you’re wrong?” said Stiller.

<< >>

     “It’s Sunday and almost one-thirty.  I can’t imagine anyone being at WREK,” said Grunt.

     “They’ll be someone there.  They have a news staff, right?” asked Rick.

     “Yea,” answered Grunt.

     “Then they’ll have someone there.  Events and disasters occur on the weekends, just a as well as the weekdays.  I just hope they have someone on site that can make decisions,” said Rick.

     “Take a left at that light,” said Grunt.

     “I wish I would have given John a few more hours,” said Rick.

     “Like you said earlier, we don’t know if we have a few hours.  Park there,” said Grunt.

     “You’ve been here before?” asked Rick.

     “I used to work here,” replied Grunt.

     “That knowledge would have been helpful a few hours ago,” said Rick as he pulled into the parking space.

     “And just how would it have been helpful?” asked Grunt.

     “I’m not sure.  I just would like to have known it,” said Rick.

     “Don’t park yet,” said Grunt.

     “Why?” asked Rick.

     “Drive around to the back.  I know another way in this place,” said Grunt.

     “We don’t have to sneak in.  The whole idea is that we appear to be part of the mainstream and not some fanatics,” said Rick.

     “Just do it,” said Grunt.

     “All right, I’ll do it,” said Rick.

     “Stop here.  You go in the front and try the conventional approach.  I’ll be Plan B,” said Grunt.

     “How you going to get in?” asked Val.

     “I told you.  I used to work here.  There’s a small window in a maintenance room where we used to sneak in and out.  Now get out of here.  We’re running out of time,” said Grunt.

     As soon as the engine was shut off, the two jumped out of the vehicle.  Rick checked his clothing to assure that he looked as presentable as one could for staying awake all night in a closet.  Glancing behind him, it was obvious that Val wasn’t exactly going to make any magazine covers.  The front doors led to an open circular lobby where a desk and secretary had been strategically positioned in the middle.  Rick had for some reason expected a guard of some sort. 

     “Can I help you?” asked the woman.

     “Yes, I need to speak with a reporter from your station,” said Rick.

     “Please have a seat and I will see if anyone is available,” said the woman.

     “We’re going to get some junior flunky that is so low on the totem pole that he has to work Sunday,” said Val.

     “You and Grunt,” said Rick.

     “What?” asked Val.

     “Never mind,” he replied.

     The large projection screen on the far side of the room was showing the local weather for the Zone.  At this moment it was supposed to be raining.  Through the front doors the sun was shining bright as could be.  Before he could rehearse his opening line, a sharply dressed woman emerged from a hallway behind the desk and marched directly toward them.

     “I’m Olivia Ward.  You wanted to speak to a reporter?” she said.

     “My name is Rick Mallory and this is Valarie DeDory.”

     “What can I do for you two?” asked Olivia.

     “What we’re going to tell you may be a little unbelievable.  Is there someplace more private we can talk?” asked Rick.

     “Of course.  Follow me,” answered Olivia.

     Rick wondered if Olivia felt the perspiration of his hands when they shook.  He was about to tell a story that would either land him in an insane asylum or make him a hero, the most likely third result was a grave.

     “Step in here.  Normally we don’t get people coming into the station,” said Olivia.

<< >>

     Luckily no one was waiting for the elevator on B-deck when the doors opened.  Since he left Kroil and Stiller, he hadn’t even passed one sole.  It was as if in the old cowboy days when the streets would clear for the gunfighter who strolled down the center of town.  Unlike them, John’s weapon was a little more bulky.  The only way he could think to help hide the contraption was to wrap a shirt around it, Kroil’s shirt to be exact.  It took the help of Stiller, but after a few moments, Kroil gave in to desperation and turned it over. 

     As John drew nearer to the two Secret Service men he removed the shirt covering the laser and used it to wipe the sweat from his face.  Before the shirt hit the floor the two men were reaching into their jackets to draw arms.  Whatever it was they were going to present, it couldn’t be as formidable a weapon as the laser he was pointing in the direction of the two.

     “Don’t even try it.  This thing will slice you in half,” said John.

     “Look sir, what ever it is you want to accomplish, I can guarantee that you won’t,” said one.

     “I don’t want to harm anyone.  I just want to talk to the president,” said John.

     “We can’t let you do that  sir,” he continued.

     “I assure you that I don’t want to harm him.  I just need to talk to him.  If necessary, you can just bring him to the door,” said John.

     “Like we said, just put the weapon down and we’ll do everything we can to help you.”

     “Don’t talk to me like I some lunatic.  Just go get your boss and let me talk to him,” said John.

     Just as the eyes of the two men focused on something behind him, John felt the pressure of something against the base of his neck.

     “Drop your weapon sir,” said the voice.

     John began to slowly ease the laser to the floor when the other two goons grabbed it.

     “Look I just want to…”

     “Drop your weapons gentlemen,” said a voice John recognized.

     All three men paused, allowing John to spin around and see who else had joined the party.  Behind him he saw Stiller holding another laser.  Shirtless Kroil stood beside him donning a huge grin.

     “I said drop your fucking weapons or I swear to God I’ll lay you to waste,” said Stiller.

     “Do as he says dumb fucks,” said Kroil.

     Kroil and Stiller must have appeared more desperate than he, because all three lay their weapons to the floor.  They sure as hell looked like crazies to John.

     “Need some help boss,” said Stiller.

     “We’re the fucking cavalry, said Kroil as he picked up the Secret Service men’s weapons.

     “I’m glad you two decided to join in on the fun,” said John.

     “Can’t be a party without us,” said Stiller.

     “Don’t go in there,” said one of the men.

     “You shut up,” said Kroil.

     “Where did you guys get that?” asked John.

     “Off the other side of P-deck,” said Kroil.  “Hey, how did you know that the one on Q-deck would do double duty when we took the first?”

     “I didn’t.  I guessed.  Can you guys keep watch for me while I go in?” asked John grabbing the laser off the floor.

     “Sure.  Say Hi to the pres for me,” said Stiller.

     John cautiously opened the main doors to the medical bay and searched the room for additional Secret Service men.  On the right he passed four doors each to separate rooms.  Each room was occupied by a person who looked deathly ill.  On the other side of the hallway John caught glimpses of three other rooms, all occupied by eerily quiet patients.  From the larger room at the end of the hall came voices.  Pausing at the doorway he could see what appeared to be a doctor and two nurses.  Lying on the table in a shroud of paleness was the commander and chief of the free world.

     “Everybody remain calm,” said John as he entered pointing the laser at the doctor.

     “How did you get in here?” asked the doctor.

     “What is your name doc?” asked John.

     “It’s Dr. Paul,” said the man.

     “OK Dr. Paul, I’m not here to hurt anybody, so move over toward the corner with the nurses so I can have a chat with our president,” said John.

     “What do you want with me?” he said in a sick voice.

     “What’s wrong with him?” asked John.

     The doctor quietly looked at the president, then the president gave a nod.

     “There’s a virus spreading on earth.”

     “I know about that,” interrupted John.

     “Well then look at the man and tell me what else you know,” said the doctor sarcastically.

     John paused for a moment.

     “He’s got the virus,” said John.

     “What is your name?” asked the president.

     “It’s John McKintrick sir.”

     “You can call me Tom.  I can tell you’re a smart man John.  Smart enough to realize that this whole ship has most likely caught the virus, including yourself.  Do you have a family?”

     “Just my parents back on earth,” said John.

     “I’m sure you are familiar with mine.  They have all contracted the virus also,” said Tom.

     “I’m sorry to hear that sir,” said John.

     “Tom.”

     “I know I’m holding all the cards with this weapon, but I still feel more comfortable calling you sir,” said John.

     “That’s fine.  What can I do for you?” the president asked.

     “Your family, are you sad that they will die?” asked John.

     “Why of course.  That’s a silly question,” the president replied.

     “Everyone on board here probably has some family back on earth, like myself.  Do you think any of these people want to see their parents and relatives die?” asked John.

     “No I’m sure they wouldn’t,” he replied.

     “Look, I know you meant well when you designed this evacuation plan.  From what I understand it was the only thing your people could do.  But now it has failed and from what you have said we’re all going to die,” said John.

     “And I’m sorry.  I take full responsibility,” said the president.

     “I’m not here to place blame sir.  I’m here to save lives.  These people on C-Orbit have lost their chance of survival, but their parents and their relatives back on earth still have a chance,” said John.

     “I’m not sure I can help them at this point,” said the president.

     “You designed this plan to save lives correct?” asked John.

     “Yes, to save the human race,” said the president.

     “And you would have saved thousands more if you could have, correct?” asked John.

     “Our facilities were limited,” said the president.

     “I’m not sure you’ve been given all the information.  Back on earth, the virus is only successful because everyone is trapped in close proximity, like us, here on this ship, but they’re trapped in the zones.  Release them, open the zones and give them a chance,” said John.

     “But they’ll all die outside those cities,” said the president.

     “No, they won’t.  They’ll live like they were supposed to live.  They’ll survive like our ancestors.  At least they will have a chance.  At least they won’t die like rats in a sterile research cage.  Sir, you have that power to give everyone their own chance to live,” said John.

     “I don’t see how that would be possible now,” said the president.

     “It is.  In fifteen minutes I am supposed to transmit down to earth proof of this station, this evacuation and proof of the virus itself.  If that transmission were you, the president of the United States talking to your people, you could convince them to leave the zones.  You could convince them to take that chance,” said John.

     “What is this transmission you are talking about?” asked the president.

     “I’ve already linked up with some friends of mine on earth.  They know about all this.  About two hours ago they headed for a television station to convince them to pick up my next transmission.  If it’s your face, they can’t say no, they won’t,” said John.

     “What makes you think everyone will take my word and vacate the zones?” asked the president.

     “I don’t know.  I’m not making any promises.  I just want my parents to have a chance to live,” said John as he sat the laser on the chair next to the table.

     Quickly the doctor moved toward the chair, grabbing the weapon and pointing it at John.

     “I can’t use the threat of death to force an already dying man.  The only weapons I can use are empathy and compassion.  You told me you thought I was a smart man.  I believe the same of you,” said John.