Run For Their Lives

Run For Their Lives - Chapter 15 cont

Al shot him a quizzical look. What could be left to do?
?Don?t tell me you?re enjoying yourself too much to go, pal, cos I aint buying.?
He instinctively raised his hand link, but Sam ? for once ? provided the answer first.
?Oi got the Da his girls back,? he began. Al?s face said ?So? Let?s Leap.?
But Sam continued; ?Now Oi have t?get the girls their Da back.?
?Huh?? Al stepped closer to his friend. It was worse than he?d thought. The kid was delirious.
?Zig-gy!? he challenged, through clenched teeth, wondering how much worse things could get.
Sam was about to demonstrate that, far from being a Senator short of a Committee, he knew exactly what he was talking about, when Connie unwittingly pre-empted him.
Lyle Strickland had been asking ? in somewhat critical tones ? why Mary had not brought his daughters straight back to London, whereupon the normally jovial Cockney became rather irate. Virtually snatching the phone from Tori, she blasted him:
?The poor woman almost died rescuing your girls. She?s a flippin? ?eroine. How much more do you want from ?er? She ain?t goin nowhere til she?s ?ad a chance to rest and recover. An? I?m gonna see to it she stays ?ere just as long as that takes. If you woz any kind of a farver, you?d get yerself down ?ere pronto. These little ?uns need a loving parent after wot they bin frew, but I guess you?re the closest they got.?
Before Strickland could object to being spoken to in that fashion, Sam took the phone and pressed home the point:
?She?s right, sir,? he said, politely but firmly, ?The girls need you.?
Lyle found his voice at last and butted in: ?They sound fine to me. Not that it?s any of her business. Who the devil is she anyway??
?She is de woman who helped save your daughters? lives. Oi couldn?t have done it without her. You owe her a great deal. The least you could do is listen to her. Most fathers in your position wouldn?t be able to wait to be reunited with loved ones they?d almost lost.?
?Which is why I want them back here. You know how busy my schedule is, Mary.?
Sam was tired and hurting and in no mood for the soft subtle approach. This man was really trying his patience.
?For God?s sake, man!? he blurted, ?What is more important to you? Your ?precious? meetings or your daughters ? who are the most precious, rare and valuable treasures (the words came back to him suddenly and he threw them back at their author) a man could ever have. It?s about time you got your priorities right, Mr. Strickland. Would you even have found time to attend their funerals had they died? There?s an old adage you?d do well t? heed ? ?Time may be money, yet the best thing parents can spend on their children is not money, but time?.?
?Here, here,? chorused Connie and Al together.
The girls just stood open mouthed.
Nanny had never spoken to their father like that before. And whilst they?d never thought of themselves as being neglected, the prospect of Daddy putting time with them ahead of dreary old meetings was as delightful as it was unlikely. Emboldened by Nanny?s forthright comments, they chirruped:
?Oh do say you?ll come, Daddy. Please say you?ll come.?
 
Run For Their Lives - Chapter 15 cont

There was an interminably long silence from the other end of the phone, so that the gathering began to suspect the connection to London had been lost, and were forced to let out a collectively held breath. Then, when it seemed their pleas would never be answered, whether positively or even negatively, they heard a distant muttering.
Straining his ears, Sam could just make out the distinctive tone of the ever-efficient Otis as he attempted to shuffle the itinerary to allow for a detour. Still Strickland hedged and wavered; yet Sam could sense he was succumbing to the temptation of playing hooky for a few hours. The comment about funerals seemed to have struck a nerve. Sam decided to push his luck still further:
?You know, sir,? he ventured, ?Otis knows dis stuff inside out. Oi?m sure he has every last detail worked out to the decimal point. Oi?d be willing to bet a year?s wages he could take over all dose meetings wit? one hand tied behind his back.?
?Assuming you still have a wage to bet.? Cut in Al with a look that advised caution. Sam had got into trouble with a similar wager as a butler/manservant once. Sam ignored him.
Fifty miles south, a mere heartbeat away, Otis enthusiastically concurred with Mary?s assessment of his capabilities. Stressing that he meant no offence, and didn?t intend to imply that his employer was in any way superfluous, he assured Mr. Strickland that he could confidently guarantee to seal negotiations with no loss of bargaining power suffered by the physical absence of the Head of the Company. He was virtually pleading for a chance to be put on his mettle, to prove he could do so much more than mere paperwork and preparation.
Between them, they kept on wearing him down, little by little, chipping away at his objections until at last he conceded:
?All right, all right. Otis can handle the ten a.m. and the two o?clock meetings. We?ll come up in the limo first thing and he can drive the BMW back. That way I can give him a thorough briefing en route. But I have to be back for the dinner engagement tomorrow evening ? that one meal could be worth mega bucks. And if there are any problems, anything at all, you?re to call me straight away. Is that clear??
Otis and Sam both agreed to his terms. No sense losing the concessions already won by holding out for more at this stage. Sam figured if he played it right, the question of Lyle rushing back alone would take care of itself. One step at a time ? slow and sure wins the race.
The sisters whooped with delight at the news, and gladly accepted the condition that they go straight to bed now, though they knew they?d be too excited to sleep.
Otis promised to organize a change of clothes for them all and other necessities, which he would bring with him, and then in hushed tones thanked Mary for her support, which was as welcome as it was unexpected.
Sam replied that he was more than welcome, and they hung up.
Then, fragile as he was, Sam prepared to resume his responsibilities:
?Come on, you two, you heard what ya Da said ? time for bed. Oi t?ink you have a big day aheed of ya tomorra. Oi t?ink Oi?ll turn in meself.?
He gripped the arm of his chair and struggled feebly to his feet, though giddiness threatened to prevent him from maintaining the position. Ever attentive, Connie was instantly by his side to lend a supporting arm.
?Steady there, ducks,? she advised, ?If yer can?t make it up them apples, I can soon fix yer up a bed down ?ere.?
The staircase loomed over him like the summit of Everest, but the threat of being sent to hospital loomed even more forbiddingly, so he drew upon the last vestiges of what little strength remained him and hauled his weary butt across the floor to escort his charges to bed.
 
Run For Their Lives - Chapter 15 cont

?That?s it, dears,? encouraged the Cockney, ?Up the wooden ?ill to Bedfordshire. Once yer gets yer lumps o? lead on them weeping willers, you?ll be in the land o? nod afore yer knows it.?
Tori and Shelley-Anne exchanged bemused looks and giggled. ?Auntie Connie? was funny. They liked her ? even if they didn?t understand half she said.
At the top of the stairs, they turned right and went to the room already allocated to them. Connie led Sam to a large bedroom on the left, which contained twin beds, made up with blue and white floral covers. She lowered him onto the nearest and exhorted him to ?settle yerself down while I goes and reads the little ?uns a bedtime story.? Then, shrugging aside his thanks, she left him alone. Alone that is apart from his invisible friend.
Sam quizzed him instantly, his tone snide and accusing:
?Why?d you change your suit, Al? Blood on your shirt, by any chance? Cut yourself shaving??
Al?s eyes widened, then he quickly looked away, remembering how Beeks had used the same phrase. But what would make Sam say such a thing? And what was he so angry about?
?I didn?t desert you for a hot date, if that?s what you think. I would have been there to watch your back, kid, honest. Only I was unavoidably detained. (That much was pure truth.) We had a slight technical hitch, but it?s all sorted out now.? He?d trotted out these lame excuses a hundred times. Lied to Sam about the problems back home to protect his pal from hurtful or alarming truths. Most times, he enjoyed the game ? seeing what he could come up with next and how gullibly Sam swallowed it all, hook line and slide-rule. He loved the challenge of inventing new excuses and blaming Sam?s Swiss-cheese brain for failing to understand things he?d just made up. Tonight was different. Tonight he?d have liked nothing better than to talk over the recent harrowing events with his closest friend ? to be comforted by him instead of being the one to comfort and support. To have Sam?s wisdom and insight lend some measure of understanding to the madness.
To have Sam reassure him that there was nothing more or different he could have done, that he was not to blame for the tragic outcome. But, as usual, he had to bear the burden alone.
Al was not as convincing a liar as he?d like to believe. He shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other and avoided making eye contact with Sam. It was partly guilt at letting Sam get hurt again, but there was more to it than that.
Sam indicated his injured arm, clutched tightly to his chest beneath the nightgown.
?Oi doubt there was anyt?ing you could?ve done to prevent this, so don?t sweat it, Al.? he exonerated his pal, sweating enough for the pair of them as his pain induced fever raged on. Though in truth they would never know how differently things may have turned out with an extra pair of eyes on alert.
This time, Sam knew Al really did have a good excuse for his absence. But he wanted to hear it. And he knew Al well enough to know he wasn?t going to be told. Not without probing. He was tired of being shut out of Project life ? and death. Right now he hated being excluded, even if Al did believe he was protecting the time traveler. It made him feel even more isolated and alone. Besides, he had to know for certain that his vision had been real, for if not, perhaps it was a portent of the future ? Al?s future, and could yet be prevented.
?Al, Oi need to know what kept you ? no, listen,? Al had been about to jump in with more denials and excuses, ?Oi need to know what really happened.? He looked right through Al, willing him to bare his soul as he suspected his friend needed to.
?I don?t understand. What do you mean? Like I told you?? prevaricated Al. He was really squirming now, looking quizzically at Sam. What could his friend possibly suspect?
?It was just the usual stuff,? he assured unconvincingly, ?You know how temperamental Ziggy can be.? He shrugged his shoulders dismissively, as if that explained everything.
Sam raised himself up on his pillows with difficulty and a grimace, and then glowered indignantly at Al.
?Its no use pretending, Al. OI know somet?ing went wrong. Oi saw it. Oi saw??
 
Run For Their Lives - Chapter 15 cont

He couldn?t say it. He swallowed convulsively. Sam closed his eyes to blot out the image that swam before his face again, almost as vividly as before. He shuddered.
Al?s shocked expression added years to his countenance.
?You what?! How could?? What did you?? I mean?? he stuttered, unable to put his racing thoughts into coherent words.
Sam sighed, and drew his left hand horizontally down across his face, pausing to clasp his palm over his mouth for a long moment as if he feared he would scream the house down if he removed it. Finally, he let it drop and said in a barely audible whisper:
?It is true, isn?t it? There was no ?technical hitch?. It wasGushie. My God, and you weren?t even going to tell me!? He rounded on Al now, his shock turning to anger. And in the depth of his emotion, much of Mary?s influence took a back seat, the accent fading to allow the real Sam to come through.
?You weren?t going to say a single word, were you? A ?slight technical hitch??
A ?slight technical hitch?!?? Is that how you describe the death of a colleague? The murder of a friend? How could you, Al? I know you and Gushie had your differences, but I never though you capable of such callousness.?
Al was at a loss. How could his time-trapped friend have possibly found out about what had happened in the Control Room? How could he explain? He rubbed his temples and paced the floor.
?It wasn?t meant to be callous, buddy.? He said at last. ?It?s just that I can?t always tell you??
Sam broke in, struggling to keep his voice low.
?I thought after all this time we?d gotten beyond the stage of secrets, Al. On a ?need to know basis? ? I really need to know, okay? What?s going on back there? How many more ?little hitches? have you kept from me??
For a split second, Al thought of retorting with a flippant answer: ?Nine hundred and fifty seven? or some such ridiculous number. Instead, he looked away, frustrated and hurt and weighted down by the secrets he must keep.
?There?d be no point in telling you any of it, Sam. It doesn?t matter??
?Doesn?t matter!? Sam exploded, then remembered the need to keep his one sided conversation private. It was just one more injustice that Al could rant and rave while Sam had to curtail his outrage for fear of being overheard.
?Doesn?t matter!? he repeated, sotto voce, ?how can you say Gushie?s death doesn?t matter? What?s gotten into you, Al? I just don?t understand this side of you.?
?Calm down, Sam, and let me try to explain.? Coaxed Al, seeing how his friend?s ashen face was now flushing with color as he fought to keep his anger under control. This was the last thing Sam needed right now. He looked so fragile, as if a harsh word could snap him in two. Sam opened his mouth, about to rail at Al again. Al held up his hand:
?Please, just hear me out, okay??
Reluctantly, grudgingly, Sam closed his mouth and nodded.
?When I say it doesn?t matter, of course I don?t mean that Gushie isn?t ? wasn?t important. Its just ? how can I put it?? he paused, head on one side as he pondered. ?Well,? he resumed at last, ?we?ve discussed before how your changing things here in the past sometimes directly changes our future, right? Domino effect, remember??
Sam frowned thoughtfully, then his eyes widened:
?Like when I helped Diane McBride pass her Bar?? muttered Sam, the glimmer of a memory stirring in him.
?And she in turn helped the Project get more funding.? Finished Al, prompting Sam to apply this particular to the Universal concept. He wasn?t yet ripe for it, though.
?So?? Sam queried, in a tone which implied, ?So what??
 
Run For Their Lives - Chapter 15 cont

?So the future, my present, whatever, is in a state of flux. What you do on one Leap may result in ? say ? a change in staffing for us.? He didn?t specify Sammy-Jo ? he didn?t want to complicate the issue with that particular set of memories. ?The next may cause? some other change.? He finished lamely - suddenly wary of giving specifics. He couldn?t let Sam know that in many of his futures Dr Elysee aka Mrs. Donna Beckett cried herself to sleep in their room, whilst in others he was still the bachelor he believed himself to be.
Sam was tired, Sam was aching both physically and emotionally. Sam had too much of a headache to cope with riddles and cryptic conversations.
?What?s your point, Al? Or are you just trying to confuse me so I?ll forget that??
?No, Sam,? Al waved his hand in denial. He looked straight as Sam now, his eyes full of compassion and sorrow and regret. He suddenly appeared to Sam to be very, very old.
?I?m the only one who remembers it all, Sam. You know that, don?t you??
He sounded weary, care-worn and profoundly sad.
?Everyone else only recalls the latest version of events, but me and Ziggy, we can trace every change. Every past is as real as every other. It?s hard sometimes?? he trailed off. Al looked as if he might break down and cry, but Sam knew his strict Naval training and the self-discipline that had kept him alive in captivity would not allow him that release.
Sam softened.
He tended to forget, as his Swiss-cheesed brain forgot so much, that his burden placed a tremendous strain on his friend as well, being there for him, at his beck and call ? twenty-four-seven.
?I?m sorry, Al. I didn?t mean??
?I know buddy.? Al dismissed his sympathy, which was more than he could bear. ?I?m simply saying that there?s no point in bothering you and burdening you with major downers like Gushie, cos three or four Leaps down the line, it might never have happened, see??
?I guess so.? Sam didn?t sound entirely convinced but he was prepared to accept the premise at face value for now. Then he drew his breath in sharply as a horrendous thought struck him.
?You?re not suggesting Gushie?s death was a result of something I changed by Leaping, are you??
?No, no, no of course not.? Al hastened to reassure his friend. He would have denied it anyway, naturally. Sam didn?t need that sort of guilt trip to cope with on top of everything else. But he was glad that he could knock that particular idea on the head with complete honesty.
Sam then insisted on hearing every detail of the circumstances surrounding Gushie?s tragic demise. Al told him as much as he knew, asking in turn how on earth Sam had come to be aware of it.
When both men had related their side of events, it began to make a certain sort of sense.
?I saw Gushie?s blood ? everywhere.? Sam mumbled morosely, still appalled by the clarity of the vision. ?It must have been because it seeped into Ziggy?s mainframe. I guess somehow his DNA was carried into the matrix, mingled with our brain wave patterns in the circuitry and created a link.?
Which, thinking about it, he realized also accounted for the intensity and persistence of the image, since ? like Al?s hologram ? it had become tuned to his optic and otic nerves. Had Gushie had a chance to scream, he?d have heard that too, a blood-curdling cry down the ages.
Unnoticed in Al?s hand, Ziggy?s com link winked in confirmation of her father?s assessment, and whether by bizarre coincidence or the influence of some supernatural force, the lights formed the shape of the Star of David.
 
Run For Their Lives - Chapter 16

Chapter sixteen

QLHQ​


Corporal Ralph ?Rusty? Kincaid surfaced slowly from the stupefaction of sedation to find himself under armed guard in the Project infirmary. He was more than a little confused. The medical ward he could believe ? he?d been feeling grotty for what felt like weeks, though it was probably only days. And if truth were known, he still felt decidedly under the weather. It was all such a blur that he couldn?t really tell exactly what was wrong with him; it was just a general malaise. On the one hand, he was sure he hadn?t been sleeping ? yet at the same time he remembered snatches of the strangest, most terrifying nightmares. Nightmares full of daemons - and more blood than he?d have believed possible. But they were only nightmares. They had to be.
Such creatures did not exist in the real world.
So why on earth were there two armed guards in his room? Were they protecting those outside from him ? or him from some unknown peril outside? He was not sure which option he would prefer, nor which was the more credible. He could not believe he would have done anything to deserve arrest, yet neither was it likely he?d be important enough to anybody to warrant protection of this magnitude.
Even if he had saved the whole darn project from that bomb.
The bomb!
How could he have forgotten about that?
The shock of remembering caused him to sit upright in the bed ? an action that in turn caused the two guards by his door to raise their rifles and take a step forward, bracing themselves for any eventuality. That, and the way the room bucked and rolled, was enough to convince him to lie down again.
Well, at least it solved one riddle.
He was evidently Public (or at least Project) Enemy Number One.
Why was still a mystery - yet he was disinclined to question his captors. They looked as if he made them nervous, and he didn?t want to alarm them in case they did anything he might regret.
Like blow his brains out.
He decided his best move would be to go back to sleep. If he was real lucky, he?d wake up to find this whole episode was just another of the nightmares, and he was alone in his own room.