Date: Thu, 26 Dec 1996 16:40:26 -0700 (MST) From: "Katherine R. Freymuth" Subject: Coup d'Etat - Chapter 27 Message-ID: Chapter 27: Lucy Cries - no, wails - of sorrow seeped through the door. Pain! Severe pain in the chest, in the head. Someone was moving the arm, the body, the other arm. A cold tingle on his chest. The eyes snapped open. Genine jumped back with a gasp. Al winced and moaned. "Admiral!" Genine exclaimed. "You're conscious!" Al moaned again and tried to sit up. He screamed and laid back down. He looked at Genine. "Very good observation, Commander. Unconscious people can't feel pain." He attempted to sit up again, screamed in pain, and laid back down. He looked down at himself. "Commander, why am I not wearing a shirt?" "Officially, I was preparing you for burial, sir," she replied. Al looked at her with surprise. "You were what?" "Everyone thinks you're dead, sir, including your wife." Al looked horrified. "Oh, my gawd! Help me up," he ordered. He stood up in pain and was caught by Genine before he fell to the floor. "Admiral, you must rest!" "I have to see Beth," Al insisted.. "I didn't think that's such a good idea, sir." Al glared at her. "The whole complex thinks you're dead!" Genine told him emphatically. "If she sees you alive without any forewarning, it might be worse for her than thinking you're dead!" Al took a deep breath and winced strongly at the resulting pain. He grabbed Genine's shoulder tightly. "Gawd, my chest is on fire!" he exclaimed. "You have to rest," Genine insisted. Al nodded. "Not here, though." Genine thought for a moment. "Staff Lounge 2C," she suggested. "It's in a secured area. No one will bother you there. Meantime," she said, gently putting him back on the table, "you can rest here. We can't risk moving you at this time. I need to pull some strings on Burke." "What are you going to do?" Al asked as he laid down, wincing. "The best place to hide something is in plain sight," Genine told him. "You're going to get Burke to have me moved," Al realized with a smile. "Yes, sir," Genine replied. "What about Beth?" "I'll take care of that," she told him. "Now, sir. If you will allow me to change your clothes, sir? As you can see, they are soaked with blood." Al nodded weakly. A moment later, he fell asleep, exhausted. ************************* Sam took a shaky breath as he raised himself from the floor of the bathroom. He wiped away a tear as a knock came from the door. "Hey, buddy," Mark said through the door. "You okay?" Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm fine," je said without conviction. "Just some stomach problems." "Margaret's cooking, eh?" Mark laughed. Sam leaned against a wall, unable to move. "I guess so," he said, forcing himself to speak. "Geez, Sol," Mark sounded concerned. "You sound terrible. Maybe you should get some rest." Sam nodded. "Good idea," he told him, moving slowly to the door and opening it. "Holy macarel, Sol!" Mark commented. "You look like shit!" Sam went past him quickly. "I'm going to my room." "Sure, Sol," Mark replied, watching him with concern. "No problem." It was hours before Sam gathered enough strength to leave his room. He opened the door to see Lucy approaching it with concern. "Dad, are you okay?" she asked. "Mark said you were sick." "I'm okay now," Sam assured her. It was obvious that Lucy didn't believe him. But she accepted his word. "Good," she told him. "I was worried." Sam looked at the girl before him. His instincts told him he was there for her. *The hell with General Burke!* Sam thought. *I have to help Lucy no matter what. It's the least I can do for Al.* "Listen," he told her. "I was just thinking that we hardly see each other. You want to go see a movie?" All of a sudden, Lucy looked terrified. "I can't." "Why not?" Sam asked. "I have homework," she said quickly. "Mark will get bad if I don't do my homework." Sam had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Lucy, did Mark get mad last night?" "No," Lucy told him. "He wasn't mad. I had a nightmare." She quickly went into her bedroom. Sam's eyes widened. *Something is definitely seriously wrong between Mark and Lucy. The way she answered my question....* He sighed. He didn't even have an idea of how he was going to help the girl. He went downstairs to find Mark gone and Margaret in the kitchen, hard at work. "Hi," Sam said. Margaret looked up from the small pot she was filling with vegetables and beef. "Heard you were sick," she told him. Sam nodded. "Better?" "A little," he told her. "Anything I can do?" She looked at him curiously. "You hate to cook." Sam shrugged. "People change." "Okay," Margaret replied. "You can cut the celery." Sam went over to the cutting board on which lay the celery. "How do you want it cut?" "Little pieces, like you would for a salad." Sam nodded and started on the celery, washing it and then cutting it. Margaret watched him carefully. "I guess people do change," she commented. "Since when were you a gourmet chef?" Sam didn't hear her. He was absorbed in his work - and in his thoughts. "Earth to Sol," Margaret said. "Come in, Sol." "Huh?" Sam questioned. "What's wrong?" Margaret asked. Sam looked at her and into her eyes. *She still loves him*, he noted. *Despite her anger towards him, she still loves him. Perhaps she can help.* "Have you noticed anything about Lucy lately?" he asked. "What do you mean?" Margaret asked with concern. "Well," Sam said, uncertain of how to breach the subject. "She's... she seems a little frightened." "What could she be frightened of?" Margaret asked casually. "Mark," Sam told her. Margaret dropped her spoon into the pot. She looked at Sam. "I thought we'd settled this, Sol. If you think you're going to get custody of Lucy be making Mark look bad, you've got another thing coming, Mister!" "Whoa!" Sam exclaimed. "Wait a minute. This has nothing to do with custody." "It doesn't?" Margaret assked cautiously. "It doesn't," Sam assured her. "I'm worried about Lucy, that's all." "Then, what's this about Lucy being afraid of Mark?" Sam took a breath. "She refused my offer to go see a movie saying that Mark would get angry." Margaret tilted her head. "Did it occur to you that she may be afraid of you?" "Your pot is boiling over," Sam pointed out. Margaret quickly turned towards the overflowing pot. "Damn!" She quickly turned off the gas underneath and moved the pot so that she could sop up the broth now covering the stove. When she had finished that, she put the pot back on the stove and turned on the heat. "Damn," she moaned. "Looks like we're going to have soggy stew for dinner. Do you have the celery ready?" Sam gave the chopped pieces of celery to her. "Good," she commented. "Maybe we can still save this thing." Sam took a breath. *Would it be a good idea to breach the subject again?* He decided against it. "Anything else I can do?" he asked. "You really think Lucy's afraid of Mark?" Margaret asked. *So much for dropping the subject for now*, Sam thought. "Yes," he told her. "You're sure it's not you she's afraid of?" "You don't greet someone with a hug if you're afraid of them," Sam reminded her. Margaret sighed. "Well, then, the only thing I can think of is that either you have a wild imagination or you lied and you really are trying to get custody of her." "Neither," Sam replied. "Then, how do you know?" Sam stepped out on a limb. "When we were married, can you think of one single time Lucy turned down an invitation to go see a movie with me?" "She's not eight anymore, Sol," Margaret told him. "You just can't sweep her off her feet and take her to a ball game on a whim." She paused. "She's changed." "Surely she hadn't changed so much that I no longer can tell if she's scared or not?" Sam said, looking into Margaret's eyes. Margaret was quiet for a moment. "Mark's gone to the store to get a few snacks for the game on T.V. tonight. I'm sure he'll be home soon." Sam sighed. It was an obvious change of subject. "Listen," Margaret said to him as she stirred the stew, "why don't you grab yourself a drink and wait in the living room. Dinner will be ready in a short while." Sam relented. He took a soft drink from the refrigerator and left the kitchen for the living room. As he passed through the main hallway of the house, he saw Lucy come down the stairs slowly. "Hi," Sam said to her with a smile. Lucy smiled back. "Hi." "Are you okay?" Sam asked with concern. "I'm fine, Dad. Why?" "Well," Sam said hesitantly, "I can't remember the last time you didn't jump at the change to get out of the house with me." Lucy lowered her head. "I'm sorry." "It's okay," Sam assured her. "But I can tell something's wrong. Want to talk about it?" Lucy shook her head, not looking at Sam. "It's nothing." Sam sighed. "Lucy." She looked at him, fear in his eyes. He smiled. "Come sit down," he told her, starting towards the living room. Lucy didn't move. "Is Mark in there?" "Your stepfa..." "HE'S NOT MY FATHER!" Lucy yelled. Sam extended his hand, palm downward, indicating that she should calm herself. "Mark," he corrected himself, "is at the store. He won't be back for a while." Lucy thought for a moment. "Okay," she finally said, slowly following Sam into the living room and sitting down. Sam squatted before her. "Lucy, what's wrong?" "Nothing. I already told you." Sam nodded. "True, you did say that. But you're lying." A tear started down Lucy's cheek. "Dad, I'm scared," she said softly. Sam nodded gently. Lucy lunged forward and clung to him tightly around the neck. "Please, take me with you, Dad! I don't want to be here!" she cried. Sam closed his eyes. "I already promised your mom that I wouldn't take you with me." "But he'll come after me!" Lucy exclaimed in a frightened whisper. "Mark?" Sam questioned. He could feel her head nod in confirmation on his shoulders. "Please, don't let him come after me!" she cried. Sam closed his eyes and gently tightened his hold on Lucy. In his gut, he knew what she meant. *How could anyone do such a horrible thing to a ten year old girl?* "I won't let him hurt you anymore," he told her with determination. "I promise." "You promise?" Lucy said in a whisper. "With all my heart," Sam told her. "I love you, Daddy." "I love you," Sam replied. "Now, why don't you go and do what you were going to do." Lucy pulled herself away and wiped away some tears. She nodded and then left the living room. Sam heard her gasp and went to the door to check on her. He found her in the hallway, face to face with Mark. "Hey, sugar!" Mark said to her. "Where have you been? I haven't seen you all day." Lucy didn't answer. She hurriedly rushed up the stairs. Mark looked at Sam. "What was that all about?" "You tell me," Sam replied with a glare. Mark laughed slightly. "I have no idea." "Sure, you don't," Sam took a step towards him. "Just like you have no idea why she's terrified of you. Just like you have no idea why she's afraid you'll go after her." "What are you talking about?" Mark questioned, confusing on his face. "I know what you're doing to Lucy," Sam told him firmly. "If you touch her again..." "What are you going to do, Sol?" Mark asked. "Kill me? I haven't done anything!" He took a breath. "Lucy's been saying that I've been hurting her ever since Margaret and I married. For some reason, she thinks I'm the enemy. I guess it's because she misses you." Sam glared at him. "Just stay away from my daughter," he warned before going up the stairs himself to his bedroom. ------------------------------------------- Can't believe how fast I'm typing this up! Chapter 28 is next! Rob and Kathie Freymuth