Date: Tue, 3 Dec 1996 17:51:50 -0700 (MST) From: "Katherine R. Freymuth" Subject: Coup D'etat - Chapter 16 Message-ID: MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII Chapter 16: Breakout! When he awoke, Al was still in the dark. Literally. He looked at his watch without sitting up. 0927 hours. He had slept nearly seventeen hours. *Well, I guess I needed it*, he told himself as he sat up with a slight yawn. He stood up and stretched, doing a few little exercises to help keep himself in shape. He hated doing calisthenics but it was better than just sitting around. Finishing his exercises, he proceeded to pace the room. He wanted a cigar but he had left his box in the office. He had a lighter but what was the use of having a lighter without also having a cigar. "I am an idiot!" Al realized, looking up at the ceiling. As he did so, he pulled out his silver lighter and lit it. Just above him and slightly towards the back was a sprinkler head. Al smiled. "Perfect!" But how to get up there? Al looked around. There was nothing to use as a ladder. In fact, there was only Al, his lighter, and an old mop. *A mop?* Al thought suspiciously. *In an empty ammunition storage room?* He had the sudden feeling he was being watched. *"Know your enemy..."* He was positive he was being watched. And he knew where the camera was. Looking at the mop, he smiled. Picking up the mop with one hand, his still-lit lighter in his other, his hit the mop handle, as hard as he could, against the wall. The handle was strong and didn't break. Taking a quick look at the ceiling, he centered himself directly under the venting shaft. He had to do this quickly. He knew that once the sprinkler head registered a fire, a down-pour of liquid nitrogen would attempt to put out the non-existing fire. Then Al would only have a few minutes to get out of the room without suffocating first. Closing his lighter, he put himself in darkness. Then, taking a deep breath, he forced the mop handle up on the venting shaft's grate. It came off on the third attempt. In the security office, one of Burke's men watched as Al pounded the grate with the mop handle. "What the hell is he doing?" he asked his partner. The other man shrugged. "I have no idea. Looks like he's trying to escape again," the man laughed. "He'll never fit in that shaft. Some admiral. Eh, Chuck?" Al lit his lighter, causing the screen to go bright red for a moment. Chuck groaned. "I wish he wouuldn't do that," he complained. "Messes up the infrared." Al lit the mop head in several places, encouraging a fire in the tangled cotton fibers. "What the hell?" Chuck exclaimed. "Hey, Lt. Dan! Did you see that?" Al forced the end of the mop into the venting shaft. The screens became blinding white and then suddenly went black. Dan jumped at the control console and started pressing buttons, trying desperately to get their picture back. "Shit!" he shouted. "He destroyed out signal! I'm not even getting static!" "We'd better call the Colonel," Chuck told him. Dan grimaced. "Shit! Boy, will he be pissed!" "Tell me about it," Chuck muttered, raising a his radio to his lips. ******************** "Calavicci's made his move," Stewart told Burke, who sat in Al's office and enjoyed one of Al's cigars. "I didn't hear the fire alarm," Burke said, examining the tip of the cigar. "It's a good brand," he commented. "The Admiral has a good taste in cigars." "I'm telling you, he's made his move, sir," Stewart emphasized. "How?" "He's taken out our relay on him." "What!" Burke exclaimed, standing up quickly. The cigar dropped from his fingers and onto the desk. "How?" "Burned it out," Stewart replied plainly. "Burned it out?" Burke stated more than questioned. "With the mop?" "Yes, sir." Burke let out a deep breath. "I've made a fatal mistake. I've underestimated the Admiral." He thought for a moment. "Leave him there." Stewart's eyes widened. "Without surveillance?" "There's nothing he can do now, other than what I planned. So, leave him." Stewart nodded. "Yes, sir." **************************** Al waited. The old mop, now burnt on the head, lay on the floor beside him. Al had expected Burke to come running in, furious that Al had ruined his plans. So, Al waited in the dark. He checked his watch. 1030 hours. It was obvious Burke wasn't coming. And Al wasn't going to go through with what Burke wanted: risking his life to get out of the storage room. "Well, Calavicci," Al told himself. "Strike two. One more and you're out." He took a deep breath. "Think, Albert. Think." He looked at the door. He knew he couldn't rig the door to open. It was a very complicated system and he didn't have that kind of background in electronics. Even if he did, he'd need lots of light, more than a small lighter or a burning mop could give him. Suddenly, the door snapped open, blinding Al with the hallway light. Al couldn't see the person's face, but he knew it wasn't Burke. This one wasn't tall enough. "Well, what are you waiting for?" a familiar male voice said. "Come on! Before they find out what we've done!" With a mental shrug, Al obeyed. He wasn't sure whether this guy was going to lead him into a trap or not but anything was better than the storage room. That place was beginning to get Al claustrophobic. Al stepped out of the room and looked at his rescuer. The man was almost his own height. He was dressed completely in black and wore a black ski-mask over his head. Al again got the feeling that he knew this man. "Follow me," the man ordered. Again, Al obeyed. Judging by how the man led him through the corridors, Al guessed that the man wasn't extremely familiar with the complex but knew its layout fairly well. The man led Al up to the first level. He took him to a staff lounge, closing the door behind them. He locked the door and studied the room quickly. "We should be okay in here," he told Al. "The General never bothered to secure the first floor and I made sure this room isn't being monitored in anyway." "What would the General say?" Al asked, finally figuring out who this man was, parroting what he had said four days before in the infirmary. "Who cares?" the man said the expected reply, taking off his ski-mask. Al looked at the man with a glimmer in his eye. He knew he could trust him the first time he saw him that day. He had seemed so reserved that time. Now, Harry Stark was anything but reserved. Al looked at Harry in the eyes. "So, why did you pull me out of there, ensign?" Harry smiled. "I'm not a real ensign. So, please, call me Harry." Al nodded. "Okay." He waited for an answer to his question. Harry, still smiling, walked over to a couch in the lounge and sat down, spreading his arms over the back of the couch. "About seven months ago, I get word of this hot deal. This guy wants fifty mercenaries. No questions about background asked. Only three provisions: they have to be good, they have to be willing to break the law, and they have to obey without question. I think, no problem. I can do those. And easy money too. So I sign up and the fifty of us train. We don't know what for. All we know is that it's big and we have $10,000 worth of stocks in our pockets and $20,000 more to come. So we invade this complex. It's only then that we understand what we're getting into and it doesn't bother most of us. After all, we're mercenaries." He hesitated. "Then I see all the wounded in the infirmary. I don't know what General Burke wants but I do know he's crazy and, if we're not careful, he'll kill us all. Besides, I don't like taking prisoners or hostages." "Just a snatch and grab kind of guy, aren't you?" Al commented with a hint of sarcasm. "Exactly! Burke told me it was a snatch and grab and that, as soon as he paid me, I couuld leave. But now it looks as if he's not going to pay up." He paused. "I don't like being swindled." "So, you broke me out of there out of the goodness of your heart," Al replied with a little more sarcasm. Harry laughed. "Of course not." Al lowered his eyelids. "I didn't think so. So, what's the price of my freedom and your services?" "Twenty-five thousand." Al glared at him. "How about I don't have you arrested for breaking and entering, murder, espionage, treason, destruction of government property, stealing government property, and about a dozen other felonies I can think of and make stick." Harry laughed. "Blackmail doesn't suit you, Admiral." Al gave him a mischeivous smile. "Tell that to Weitzman," he said more to himself than to Harry. Harry ignored Al's comment. "You make a hard bargain, Admiral. Just one question. How are you going to charge me when I put you back in that storage room?" Al paused. "Seeing how you're the one with the gun under your jacket, you have a point." "You're good," Harry complimented, patting the gun gently. "You have to be in this man's Navy," Al replied. He hesitated. "You know, it seems to me that you're in more trouble than I." Harry blinked in confusion. "What do you mean?" "I mean that, by turning your back on Burke, you're making yourself a traitor to him. And he won't ever forget that, even when we get control of the complex away from him. He'll want revenge. And, from what I've seen in Burke, his revenge won't be sweet," Al warned. "But I can provide you protection and amnesty in exchange for your services." Harry shook his head slightly. "You're going to have to do better than that, Admiral. Burke will go after you before he goes after me." "Ever heard of a scapegoat?" Al retaliated. "I can still return you to the storage room," Harry reminded. At that moment, there was a crackle from Harry's radio. "All units," Colonel Stewart's voice came over the radio. "Calavicci's escaped and it looks like he had assistance. Make a search of all levels for him. Bring him to General Burke office at once." Al raised his eyebrows knowingly. "Can you?" he asked sarcastically. "Burke suspects you already. I don't think it would look very good if you were anywhere near me." Harry sighed. "I guess I don't have a choice but to accept your offer now." "Not if you don't like being swindled," Al added. ---------------------------------- Congratulations! You have just read half of this story! Keep reading 'cause there's tons more to come! Rob and Kat Freymuth