Date: Thu, 21 Nov 1996 15:26:02 -0700 (MST) From: "Katherine R. Freymuth" Subject: Coup D'etat - Chapter 13 Message-ID: MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII Chapter 13: Answers DAY 2: 6:00 a.m. "You wanted to see me, General?" Stewart questioned as he stood in front of Sam's desk in the complex, behind which Burke sat with a ponderous look on his face. Burke looked up at Stewart. "Sit down, Richard," he told him. Stewart frowned a bit as he sat down. "Something's wrong. What is it, Al?" "Have you noticed Dr. Bellasario?" Stewart nodded. "She's the Assistant Chief of Medicine, isn't she?" Burke looked at him carefully. "That's what Calavicci says. But who is she really?" "What do you mean?" Burke took a breath. "There's something about that woman that bothers me. She's not in the personnel files, so there's no proof that she actually is the Assistant Chief of Medicine. Nor is she in the medical databases. Just who is she?" "Does is matter?" Stewart asked. "She's a doctor. Nothing more." Burke glared at him. "Idiot! If she had an R.N. or a Ph.D., she's be in the databases. Which means she's not a doctor." "Then, how do you explain her expertise in operating. Ensign Stark had been an intern and he says she's one of the best he's ever seen." "So, because he was an intern, he's a medical expert!" Richard sighed. "Come on, Al. Be reasonable. She has to be a doctor." Burke nodded his head thoughtfully to himself. "Okay. Let's say she is a doctor. Since her name isn't in the databases, she's going by an alias. Now, why would she do that?" "To protect herself," Stewart suggested. "Why?" "She may no longer legally have a Ph.D." Burke thought about his words. "That isn't it. Admiral Calavicci wouldn't hire anyone who hadn't been cleared, even a favor. Whoever Dr. Bellasario really is, she must have some sort of clearance into this project." "Then, she may be using an alias to protect someone else," Stewart told him. "Who?" "Whoever would gain the most from her using an alias, probably." Burke thought for another moment. Suddenly, his eyes snapped open. He smiled. "I think I have an idea how we can find out who our illusive Dr. Bellasario really is," he told Stewart. ************************* DAY 2: 8:00 a.m. Stewart followed Al into the Control Room. His orders were simple; he had to stay close to the Admiral and watch him like a hawk. Tina was in the Control Room this time, giving her husband the opportunity to rest, even though it meant his being confined to their quarters. "Good morning, Tina," Al greeted as he approached her. "Good morning, Al," Tina returned. "Had a good night?" Al smiled gently at her, his entire meaning in that smile. The answer was obviously no and Tina couldn't blame him. She had found it hard to sleep with all of Burke's guards in every corridor. Al walked to the control console and placed his hand on the main sensor plate, activating Ziggy. "Good morning, Ziggy," he greeted the computer as he took a small flat round object from his left pocket. "Good morning, Admiral," Ziggy replied as Al slipped the disk into a slot in the console. "What have you got for me?" Al asked. The question had a double meaning. "Very little concerning Dr. Beckett's situation. I'm afraid I still do not have enough data to locate Dr. Beckett." "It's been six hours, Ziggy. Surely, you have something." Al lowered his head, apparently in thought. He was actually watching for a sign froom Ziggy. "Is the person in the Waiting Room still asleep?" "No, Admiral. She awoke two minutes ago. I have informed Dr. Beeks and General Burke." Al sighed. "Burke," he whispered with disappointment. "They are my orders, Admiral," Ziggy answered, giving Al the green light which told him it was clear to remove the disk. "I know, Ziggy," Al said, removing the disk and putting it in his pocket while, at the same time, taking out a cigar from the top inside pocket of his Naval uniform jacket. He lit the cigar with some satisfaction, feeling the need for its comforting flavor. As he puffed on his cigar, Verbina came into the Control Room, followed by her escort and General Burke. "The guest's awake," Al told Verbina plainly. "I'd better do it alone," Verbina told him. "I don't think she'll react well to your dress." Al nodded as Verbina went into the Waiting Room. His jacket was still stained with blood from yesterday's events, though he had tried to make it look a little more livable. Al was certain, however, that the entire uniform would need replacing. Burke looked about the Control Room with a seriousness about him. He, then, quite deliberately looked at Al. "Congratulations, Admiral," Burke finally said. "What?" Al questioned, confused. "On your wife being named Surgeon General," Burke added. "It was announced last night on the radio." He paused. "Your wife is Elizabeth Calavicci, isn't she?" "Yes, she is. Thank you," Al replied, certain that Burke had something up his sleeve. "Very odd thing, though," Burke continued. "She couldn't be reached for comments. You'd think she'd have prior notice about the announcement of Congress's approving her and would make herself available to the press." "She did," Al looked at Burke carefully. "But she relishes her privacy. The press couldn't reach her for comment because she went out with friends last night to celebrate. I was supposed to meet her but, as you know, I couldn't. She's probably worried to death about me." Burke laughed slightly. "You know, that's funny because I happen to know no one has seen head or tail of her since yesterday morning." Al looked sincerely concerned. However, Burke couldn't tell what he was thinking. "She's been missing since yesterday?" Al asked, fear in his voice. "Well, yes," Burke said, a lilt in his voice. Al glared at him. "You sound absolutely delighted that she's missing." He went nose to nose with him. "We're talking about my wife, you son of a bitch! You can at least have the decency to act concerned about her." "Like you, Admiral?" Burke retaliated. "What the hell do you mean by that, General?" Al glared at him. "If you are implying that I don't care about my wife..." Burke shook his head, moving away from Al with relaxed grace. "Not at all, Admiral. Quite the contrary, in fact. I think - no, I know - that you care greatly for your wife. So much so that you would hide her whereabouts." "What do you mean?" Al questioned. "Burke, you're talking in riddles. If you know where my wife is, tell me." At that moment, Verbina came out of the Waiting Room. She looked slightly concerned but mostly relieved. Her entrance into the Control Room distracted Burke from his conversation with Al. "Well," he demanded. Verbina hesitated and looked at Al who still looked very concerned. He nodded to her, letting her know that he was okay and that she should go ahead and tell Burke what she had found out. "Dr. Beckett has leaped into Cheryl Dover, a newly-hired bank teller in Omaha. It's September 11, 1986." Al turned to the control console. "Ziggy, have you found out what Sam is there to do?" "He is there," Burke interrupted before the computer could answer, "to prevent the Los Angeles riots." Al blinked his eyes in disbelief. "What?" "The Los Angeles Riots of 1991," Burke explained. "His mission is prevent them from happening." Al raised his eyebrows. "In Omaha, five years before they happen?" "Admiral, why did those riots occur?" Burke asked, pacing knowingly like a university professor lecturing his class. Al frowned. "Isn't this a philosophical question, not an historical one?" "Historically speaking, then," Burke added. "What event brought about the riots?" "Two white police officers used excessive force in arresting Rodney King for drug possession," Al answered. "In other words, they beat the living hell out of him," Burke translated. "Yes," Al replied. "But what does it have to do with Cheryl Dover and Omaha?" "What if they were black cops instead of white?" Burke proposed. "Certainly, there would be protest to his treatment. But a riot? No. Now, if we arrange to slowly replace the Los Angeles Police Department's white police officers with black, we can prevent the riot. But, in order to do that, we'll need funds, which is why Dr. Beckett will buy ten thousand shares in America Online under my name to allow us to better re-staff the Los Angeles Police Department." Al huffed. "Sounds like a load of crap to me," Al muttered. "Scoff if you wish, Admiral," Burke told him, "but history will change. Now, I suggest you go in and let Dr. Beckett know why he's leaped into Cheryl Dover." Al took a breath and went toward the Imaging Chamber, grabbing a handlink as he went. Stewart went up to Burke. "He may be more trouble than he's worth," he whispered, watching Al enter the Imaging Chamber. "Probably," Burke answered. "But we need him. After all, we do want to change history, don't we?" He sighed. "Still, he's hiding something. Watch him carefully. And put Taylor on Bellasario to keep an eye on her. If my suspicions are true, the doctor is an important card against the Admiral." "Yes, sir," Stewart answered, turning and leaving the Control Room. ************************* The Imaging Chamber door closed with a loud swoosh, giving Al the opportunity to slep in the small disk out of his pocket and into a slot in the handlink. Sam and he had long ago thought of the possibility that Ziggy's connection with the handlink might break down. Therefore, Sam had encorporated into the handlink a compact disk reader which would allow the Observerto give information from a pre-programmed disk - the same kind of disk Al now put in the handlink. "Okay, Tina," Al said into the intercom. "Center me on Sam." A moment later, Al found himself inside a bank, surrounded by people. He looked about and found Sam standing behind a counter and counting money out to a customer. Al smiled as he looked at Sam. One thing was certain; Sam had yet to leap into an ugly woman. He walked over to the dress-clad man, a frown coming to his face when he remembered what he had to tell Sam he was there to do. "Hi, Sam," he greeted the quantum physicist, a lack of conviction in his voice. "Based on the tone of your voice, I take it thing aren't going well," Sam whispered, walking towards the vault. "Do you remember what I told you that last leap?" Al asked, walking beside him. Sam furrowed his eyebrows. "I think so. Something about a general taking over the complex and changing history on a global basis." He paused. "Is that general still in control?" Al nodded. "You got it." "He's still listening in on you?" Al nodded again."General Burke says you're here to prevent the Los Angeles Riots of 1991." Sam frowned. "But this is '86. How can I change something that doesn't happen for five years?" Al explained what Burke had told him about using stock profits to change history. Sam shook his head. "It doesn't sound right, Al. It can't be. And even if it were, how am I going to get enough money to buy that much stock?" Al scratched his temple, a now unlit cigar in his hand. "I don't know. He wasn't very clear on that point." "Terrific," Sam moaned as he walked into the vault. "What does Ziggy say I'm here to do?" Al sighed. "That's a good question, Sam. I wish I had an answer." "You mean, you don't know?" Sam exclaimed almost a little too loudly. "Sorry, Sam," Al answered. His attention, however, was on the handlink which displayed the information on Burke that Al had requested. "Ziggy just doesn't have anything for you. Yet. You're just going to have to do what needs to be done." His eyes never left the handlink. "Al..." Sam hesitated. He noticed Al's attention to the handlink. "Al, what's going on?" Al sighed. "Sam, it would be a lot easier if you didn't ask a lot of questions right now. Just do what you have to do." He looked at Sam in the eyes. "There's nothing else I can tell you." A woman passed the vault and looked in, seeing Sam stare at a corner of the room. "Cheryl," she whispered. Sam turned around quickly at the voice. "Are you okay?" the woman asked. "Yeah. Sure," Sam answered her. "Are you sure?" "I'm fine. Thanks." "Okay," the woman replied. "Just hurry it up. Okay? You don't want to get in trouble on your first day of work." "Okay," Sam answered. He waited until the woman was gone before turning back. He sighed in frustration. Al was gone and Sam still didn't know what he was really there to do. He doubted it was to buy stock in America Online. ***************** "Well done, Admiral," Burke complimented as Al came out of the Imaging Chamber. "You see? With a little cooperation, we can make this transition quite well." "I though I did that very well myself," Al commented, not referring to his speaking with Sam. There was a little mirth in his voice. Burke smiled. "Come, Admiral. You look as if you could use a beer and I know you've had a busy day." Al looked at Burke without a smile. "No, thank you, General. I have other business to attend to, such as my wounded men." With that, Al left the Control Room with Stewart in tail. Al fully intended to return later, hopefully without Stewart on him, to tell Sam really why he leaped into the life of Cheryl Dover. In the meantime, he had to think and there was a lot to think about. ------------------------------- Wow! I'm impressing myself with how quickly I'm getting this out to our hungry readers! Stay tuned for more surprises in Chapter 14! Rob and Kat Freymuth