From: Amkt111177@aol.com Message-ID: <83911616.35b2cc30@aol.com> Date: Mon, 20 Jul 1998 00:48:47 EDT Subject: basis8 Ann Marie Tajuddin Basis of Control 8 ------ "Basis of Control" pt. VIII October, 1999 Stallions Gate, NM Al entered his office and promptly collapsed on the sofa in the corner of the room. He'd gotten some sleep the night before, but not nearly enough to make up for what he'd missed the night before that. A small voice told him he should be spending every moment with his daughters, but he didn't want to move. Until he saw the fax machine. Every movement filled with dread, he hauled himself up off of the sofa and walked slowly to the device, as if afraid it would strike. Reaching out hesitantly, he took the paper and held it between his fingers. "Keep your friends close...and your enemies closer," it said. Al closed his eyes. "I gotta get an unlisted fax number," he muttered to himself, using sarcasm in a vain attempt to dampen the dread. When he opened them again, the words "Don't go into town tonight," caught his attention, scrawled hastily in small lettering at the bottom corner of the page. Al thought hard. They hadn't planned to go into Santa Fe, he didn't think, but they certainly weren't going now. Unless this was the desired effect. He shook himself mentally. Second guessing only led to paranoia and he already had enough of that to go around. Whatever was going on with this guy, someone on the inside was trying to help him and Al knew he could use all the help he could get. Easing into his chair behind his desk, he squeezed his eyes shut tightly and concentrated on silencing the voice screaming at him to do something, anything, that would put a stop to this. It was when he heard a choked sob and realized it was his own that he snapped his eyes open and stood back up. He couldn't let this happen to himself - not yet. Not when he had a wife and four daughters depending on him. Not when he had to concentrate on finding a solution for Sam. Not when...not when everything else was already going to pieces. "Enough is enough," he muttered to himself. He was tired of being on the defensive - he needed to maneuver the situation so he was on the offensive. Surely it couldn't be _that_ hard to do, could it? He knew he'd done it many times before and almost always succeeded. Al Calavicci: the master manipulator, right? *Ri-ight.* "Dad?" Al turned to see Marina in the doorway. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I'm not late, am I? I thought we still had another half hour before we decided to meet for lunch." She hesitated in the doorway, seeming more uncertain of herself than Al could recall her looking in a long while. "Oh, I'm sorry, did you have work to do? Or - oh, geez, am I not supposed to be in this part of the project?" "It's okay," he assured her. He put the fax down on his desk and threw a file over it. "What's going on?" he asked casually, leaning against the polished wood. "Oh...nothing. Just got bored and thought I'd see what you were up to, so to speak." "Just usual government drudgery," he responded. "Oh." She stared at the far wall absently. He squinted at her. "Gee, this is a lively conversation." "There is nothing lively about this situation," she said, a little sharply, as she looked back at him. He put out a hand, palm down. "I never said there was, but you've got to relax, honey. If you don't, you'll drive yourself crazy." He frowned at the look in her eyes. "Is there something else?" She shook her head stubbornly, but then let out a heavy breath. "Can I have a hug?" she said quietly. "You came all the way down here into the black hole for that?" She shrugged and dropped her gaze. "Come here." She stepped forward and he wrapped his arms around her and pressed his cheek against her hair. "I love you, honey," he murmured. She smiled, blinking back tears, and buried her face in his shoulder. "Thanks. I needed that." He pulled back and wiped her cheek with the back of his hand. "Sure. Why are you crying?" "I don't know," she muttered, blushing. "I guess I'm just overwhelmed." Al nodded solemnly. Despite the brave front she always made a token effort to maintain, Marina tended to spring a leak whenever she felt like everything became too much. Then, and when she was angry. Another way she was like Beth. "How's David?" he asked in an attempt to take her mind off their situation. "He's good. I miss him." He studied her with soft eyes. "I know you do, sweetie. I know how much it hurts to be away from someone you love." Her grin was pale. "I guess you would." "You wanna sit down?" he asked, gesturing to the chair in front of him. "Uh, no, I'd better not stay. You've got work to do and-" "The work can wait," he interrupted. He pushed aside some papers and sat on the edge of his desk, placing his hands on his knees. "I want to hear about you for a while." "Dad...how worried are you?" He grinned slightly. "Well, I'm sure it's really just nothing-" "Don't lie to me," she returned forcefully. "I saw the team you had following us when we went out to dinner last night. If it's not taken care of in a week, you're not going to want us to go home, are you?" The corner of his mouth lifted in an attempt to lighten the conversation. "Probably not. But...I won't stop you." "Why do you stay here, Dad? All the government red tape you have to put up with, the long hours, and stuff like this. I just don't understand. You and Mom are both in positions where you could be practically anywhere else - why here?" He looked steadily at her with deep eyes. "It's my choice. It's just...important to me that I stay." "I don't get it." He shrugged. "Sorry. Let's just say that sometimes the bonds of loyalty and friendship can outweigh a lot." "You're speaking in riddles." He laughed. "Yeah. Confused yet?" At first she resisted, but then she smiled warmly. "Now I know how you deal with the government. Who was it that said 'if you can't convince them, confuse them'?" Al's smile widened. "Harry Truman." "Right." Her mirth faded slowly and she stood up. "I'd better let you finish your work. I'm sure Mom'd be wanting some help with lunch right about now." She paused at the doorway and glanced back. "I know you're really worried about all of us, Dad, but spare a few minutes to worry about yourself, okay?" He looked sadly at her. "I'll see if I can't find room in my schedule." ^----^----^----^----^ October, 1999 Grant, NM Dave paced the room like a caged animal. He thought things were settled after they got back from the airport, but then Jonathan had suddenly flown into a rage, and a fight had taken place. The adjoining bedroom had been trashed in the process and yet no more headway had been made. He knew that he couldn't trust his own brother: the man had a fit of self-righteousness that had failed to abate with time, as he'd hoped it would. He just didn't understand: sometimes the world didn't do squat and it was up to you to dispense justice. Some people would label him a fanatic or a lunatic, but as long as he knew what he was doing was right...could there really be any question? *Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.* He smiled mournfully and rapped on the door to Jonathan's room before opening it. Jonathan was crouched on the floor on the far side of the bed, scooping up some papers that had been scattered and disorganized by the fight. He still looked upset, probably from the argument. "Hey," Dave said roughly. "Do you wanna help me or not?" Jonathan hesitated, staring at the clutter in the corner of the room. Then he motioned to his brother's room. "Let's get outta this mess. I need a bite to eat anyway." He walked past Dave who turned slowly and followed him through. Jonathan shut and locked the door. "Doncha trust your big brother?" Dave asked. "No," Jonathan snapped. Dave knew Jonathan's loyalty had been wavering even more so than it had in the beginning, but this was the first time (even taking into consideration the fight) that he'd been completely expressive about the situation. All that anger packed into one little syllable. "Why not?" "Why can't you just leave them alone?" Jonathan cried. "I mean, what is _wrong_ with you?" "What's the matter?" Dave taunted. "Our earlier tussle wasn't enough for you? You wanna go at it again?" "You did the fighting earlier," Jonathan returned. "You questioned me. My principles, my ideals. All I did was stop you from doing either of us any physical harm. You were still steamed about my trying to stop you at the airport, not me!" He clenched his fists and stood with his legs apart, a trembling mass of emotion. "You just don't get it!" Jonathan visibly pushed back his rage. "Look at yourself. I mean, you're intelligent, well-educated. You have a good job, good friends, good family. A good wife. I just don't understand how you can go from that to _this_." "Justice!" came the battle cry. "This isn't _justice_! It's vengeance! And I won't let you do it anymore. I tried to be your friend, to understand you, but I can't. I put up with your little games. I let you send your letters and your faxes. I let you go to the airport. Enough is enough...when is it going to _stop_?" Dave threw down his hat. "Okay, honesty time, right? It's gonna stop when I pay him back." "When you kill someone." Jonathan's voice had dropped to a near-whisper. "If it'll stop the burning," Dave answered, sounding more in control of himself than he had since the whole thing began. He expected Jonathan to question what he was talking about, but his younger brother just stared. "It might not stop the pain, but if it eases it, even for just a minute... I can't...let it happen to anyone else because of them." "You're letting it happen to him." Dave sighed heavily. "We all make our sacrifices, our choices. I've made mine. Now it's time for those responsible to take the responsibility." "You're nuts." "Am I?" Dave demanded harshly. Jonathan stared blankly past him, as if lost in some deep memory. But, as his older brother watched, he began to breathe faster with each passing second. Finally, he looked back at Dave. "Yes. And it ends now." The calm in his words belayed the fire in his eyes. "What are you gonna do?" Dave demanded in a taunting voice just before the pressure built to unbearable levels and Jonathan punched him squarely in the jaw. Dave fell back against one of the beds, clutching at his chin in amazement. Without even pausing to give him time to rise to his feet, Jonathan was on top of him, pummelling his stomach, pinning him to the bed. "Are you crazy? Get off of me!" Dave yelled, too preoccupied with trying to get his brother off of him to fight back. He finally pushed Jonathan to the side and off the bed onto the floor. Jonathan was up in a heartbeat, but so was Dave. They struggled with each other, holding each other in such a tight restraint that neither could get enough distance to cause any real damage anymore. Dave pushed his brother against the wall and, grabbing the lamp off the nearby dresser, slammed it down on his head. The other man staggered for a moment, then slid ungracefully to the floor. Dave paused for an instant, then turned and, throwing his scattered belongings into his bag, began to formulate a plan of action. Casting one last look at his fallen opponent, he turned and ran out of the hotel room. ^----^----^----^----^ January, 1989 Cleveland, OH Al stepped through the Imaging Chamber Door with a somewhat lighter heart. When he'd casually mentioned at lunch that they should do something together at the complex that evening, nobody had questioned or even become suspicious at the sudden suggestion. Someone out there was on his side, finally. Sam was in the kitchen pacing. "Everything going okay, Sam?" "No, it's not," he snapped. Then he sighed. "Sorry, Al. Look, I just spoke to Aaron." Al was immediately concerned. "What happened?" "He came in from mowing the lawn and I told him I needed to talk to him. He started giving me the runaround, and I just blurted it out. I told him I'd been having an affair. He got really angry and stormed out of the house before I could get five more words out." "Geez," Al moaned. "Listen, Sam, I talked to Sylvia. She says she loves him and she's willing to make the effort. I told her you'd ended things with Martin and that you were going to tell Aaron about the affair. She was a little upset at first, but then she agreed it was the right thing to do. So, all you have to do is smooth things out with Aaron and you're outta here." "All I have to do is... Al! Are you crazy? It could take _years_ to settle things with that man!" Al conferred with the handlink. He shook his head sadly. "Sorry, Sam, but you're going to have to make him listen. Sylvia says that she tried everything to get him to notice her, but he wouldn't." "That's just what Martin said," Sam pointed out, leaning against the counter. "Right," Al agreed absently. "She got lonely, Sam," he added somberly. "That doesn't give her the excuse to-" "No, it doesn't," Al said quickly. "But it does explain things." "Al...you've got to tell me where he went, because I'm not sure he's coming back." Al pulled up the handlink and his eyes widened. "You're right. He's not going to come back. Ziggy says...in twenty minutes, he's gonna run his car off of the road and-" Al looked up, sorrow deep in his eyes "-he's gonna die." Sam's face registered panic. "Okay, uh, you have to tell me where it happens." "Yeah, the police report said he ran into some trees on the side of route 30 about 10 miles north of here. Sam, you gotta go! Go!" he yelled, gesturing towards the door. "Al, go center in on him, okay? Tell me exactly where he is." Al vanished, and reappeared in a car speeding down the road, headlights off in spite of the approaching dusk. Without pausing, Al centered back in on Sam. "Here, hurry, read!" Al held up the handlink and Sam paused to read off the directions to Aaron's location. Sam climbed into the vehicle. "Okay, Al, let's-" "The kids!" Al exclaimed suddenly. "They're at friends' houses." "Oh, good, as long as they're..." He trailed off. "What?" "I said they're-" Sam started to repeat, the engine roaring to life at his touch, but Al started speaking over him. "What do you _mean_ they went into Santa Fe? Didn't we agree-" Al stared intently at the ceiling. "Dammit! Sam, I've got to go! Beth says Marina and Julia went into town to get some things for tonight and they should have been back an hour ago!" Before Sam could even reply, Al had opened the Imaging Chamber Door and was gone. "Good luck, Al," Sam whispered