Date: Thu, 2 Jan 1997 14:13:37 -0700 (MST) From: "Katherine R. Freymuth" Subject: Coup d'Etat - Chapter 29 Message-ID: MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: TEXT/PLAIN; charset=US-ASCII Chapter 29: Strike Back "General Burke," Ziggy's voice put in as Burke walked into the Control Room. "What is it?" Burke bellowed. He was growing rather irritated with the computer, especially since it seemed to be making more and more mistakes lately. "There has been a change in history," Ziggy told him. "For the better, I hope," Burke concluded. "I'm not certain," Ziggy answered. Burke glared at the blue sphere hanging over the console. "What?" "Dr. Beckett has changed the life of Solomon Havlin and the lives of his daughter and ex-wife so that Solomon remarries his ex-wife and sees that Mark Ritter is convicted of statutory rape. However, he has also convinced Senator Struther that Solomon Havlin is, in fact, not psychic. Thus, history as concerning the Cuban Invasion has returned to its original course." "What!" Burke exclaimed in anger. He turned quickly on Gushie, who was being watched closely by Captain Howell, standing by the control console. "Is the link ready?" he demanded. "Yes, but..." Gushie started. "Then, I'm going in," Burke said, grabbing a handlink. He glared at Gushie. "Planning on stopping me, Dr. Conelf?" Gushie shook his head. "No, sir," he said quickly. "Good." Burke hurried into the Imaging Chamber and had himself centered on Sam. He looked about quickly. Sam was walking into the living room of Margaret Havlin's house. "She's finally asleep," he was telling Margaret. "Thank goodness," Margaret sighed. "I can't believe I could even fall for someone who'd do that to her." She looked at Sam. "That's why you took her the last time, isn't it?" Sam shrugged. "I guess so." He looked at Margaret with sympathy. It was then he saw the man standing directly behind her, glaring at him angrily. He would have thought he was a friend of Margaret if it hadn't been for one thing - he was holding a handlink. "Burke," Sam whispered with realization, a mixture of shock and anger in his voice. "What was that?" Margaret asked. Sam looked at her with confusion. He stood up quickly. "I'll be back." "Sol, what's wrong?" she questioned. Sam didn't answer as he hurried out of the room. "Sol?" Margaret called after him. Sam hurried up the stairs and went into his room, quickly closing the door behind him. He leaned his forehead on the door and breathed heavily in an attempt to get control of the emotions of grief and anger that threatened to show themselves. "Dr. Beckett." Sam swallowed. He knew that Burke would follow him here. He turned around to look at him. "You bastard!" Sam leered at him with controlled rage. "You killed him!" "Him?" Burke questioned. "Oh, the Admiral. Afraid not, Doctor. One of my guards had that honor but I assure you he was duly punished for the act. If it helps any, the bullet didn't kill him but the heart attack did." Enraged, Sam rushed him and attempted to knock him down with several martial arts moves. Immediately, he saw the futility of his actions and collapsed to the floor with frustration. "I can't say that I sympathize," Burke told him. "Actually, I found the Admiral to be a pain in the ass." He walked closer to Sam. "Speaking of which, you are neglecting in your duties." "Duties?" Sam nearly yelled, glaring at him. "I'm not _neglecting_ my duties. I'm disobeying your orders." He stood up from the floor. "I don't take orders from anyone, much less the murderer of my partner and friend." Burke smiled at him. "As I told you, I did not kill Admiral Calavicci." "You may not have pulled the trigger but, directly or indirectly, you still killed him," Sam frowned angrily. "And I'm going to make sure you pay for it." "At the expense of the lives of your wife and child?" Sam stared at him. Burke smiled. "You mean you don't know? Your wife is pregnant. She's due in a couple of months." Sam closed his eyes. "He never told me," he whispered mostly to himself. Burke looked at him carefully. "I see. You didn't even know that you have a wife. I'm sure the Admiral had a good reason for not telling you." "She didn't want him to tell me," Sam said almost automatically. "So I could do what I had to do." Burke raised an eyebrow. "Really. Reasonable woman. Too bad you have to lose her." "What?" Sam looked at him. Burke smiled malevolently. He saw the fear in Sam's eyes. "Unless, of course, you convince Congress to approve my strike on Cuba." Sam closed his eyes. "I can't do that." Burke's eyelids lowered. "Perhaps you'll change your mind when you see her beg for mercy before your eyes." With that, he opened the Imaging Chamber door and left, his back to Sam. Sam closed his eyes. He didn't know what to do anymore. He couldn't let Burke hurt Donna nor could he allow Burke to succeed in his plans for changing history for his own sake. But something in his soul told him that, by disobeying Burke, he was doing the best thing he could possibly do. Therefore, Sam took a calming breath before leaving the bedroom and returning to the living room and to Margaret's concerned expression. Sam smiled at her weakly. "Everything's going to be okay," he assured her. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Why did you leave like that?" Sam looked at her, wanting to take her into his confidence. *I can't*, he told himself. *She wouldn't understand.* He sighed. He felt so lost now that Al was gone. "It was nothing," he told her. "I thought I heard Lucy calling." "You're lying," Margaret observed. Sam exhaled. Maybe he couldn't hide his feelings but he certainly could prevent Margaret from pressing the issue. "Tomorrow," he said, changing the subject, "we'll take Lucy to the doctor to be examined and we press charges against Mark." Margaret nodded. "I'm sorry I ever doubted you, Sol. Thank you." She smiled gratefully at him. Sam returned the smile just before he leaped. ************************ "Bring me Dr. Elesee!" Burke ordered angrily as the Imaging Chamber door closed. Colonel Stewart, who was in the Control Room, nodded and motioned to an ensign to obey. However, before the ensign could even reach the door, everything went black. "What the hell?" Burke exclaimed. "Someone had better tell me what the hell is going on!" "We've lost all power, sir!" Captain Howell said from the control console. "The complex is dead!" "Dead? What do you mean 'dead'?" "Just that, sir. It's dead!" "Well, then, reactivate it!" Burke demanded. "Sir, it's not that simple," Howell told him. "Even if I could get the power going again, all of the systems have been wiped clean. Erased. The complex is useless! We can't even lock a door much less contact Dr. Beckett again!" There was silence as the lights came back on. "Well, obviously someone was able to restore the power!" Burke bellowed. He turned to Stewart. "Where's Taylor?" "Last that I heard, she was guarding Calavicci's body," Stewart told him. "Well, bring her down here!" Burke told him. "And put the men on alert!" "Yes, sir," Stewart answered, giving a nod to the ensign who immediately obeyed the order. Burke had a peculiar look in his eyes. Stewart looked at him with concern. "What's wrong, Al?" "It's Calavicci," Burke said with conviction. "He's up to something." Stewart shook his head. "Can't be him. He's dead." Burke glared at him. "And what proof do you have? Have you seen his body? With this computer acting as it is, how do we know he didn't survive?" He shook his head. "No, he's alive. From the pit of my stomach, I know it." He turned to Stewart with a firm eye. "Find him and kill him. And if you happen to be in the area of Calavicci's quarters, kill Dr. Calavicci as well. And Dr. Elesee. We must make an example of then." Stewart nodded and started towards the door. "Richard," Burke stopped him. Stewart gave him his attention. "Find Taylor, tie her, and bring her to me. I do not tolerate traitors." Stewart looked at him questioningly. Burke lowered his eyebrows. "Calavicci's alive. Taylor was the one guarding him. She was the one who convinced me to have him moved. When she delivered the message from Admiral Beckett to Calavicci, the taps in his room went out, taps which she had planted. She has been trying to subtly prevent my actions. She is a traitor, Richard, and therefore must be killed - by my hands." Stewart nodded. "It will be my pleasure to bring her to you, sir." With that, he left the Control Room. ************************ "Well done, Commander," Al told Genine, his hand resting his pistol by his ear. "Thank you, sir," Genine said firmly. "All the men should be armed now. We pretty much cleaned out that storage room. The guards are sleeping like babies." Al nodded. "Good. Now, I don't want a blood bath here. Everyone's to shoot only in self-defense. If they surrender, then tie them and take them to the cafeteria," he instructed Harry and Dan Carroll, his team leaders. "No shooting to kill. Got it?" They nodded. "Okay, let's move out." Harry and Dan took their respective teams and started for the upper levels of the complex. Al looked at Genine with curiosity. "Where's your team, Commander?" "I am on your team, sir," she told him. "I have orders to watch over you." Al smiled. "Beth, right? Well, then, let's go. We've got the lower levels." The team started down the stairwell towards Level Eight when Al suddenly stopped and winced sharply. He grabbed Genine's shoulder for support. "Admiral, are you all right?" Genine asked quietly. Al nodded slowly, taking a slow breath which was obviously painful. "That bullet hole is giving me one hell of an ache." He stood up straight and exhaled in some relief. "Let's go." Genine frowned slightly at Al's stubbornness but nonetheless obeyed. It wasn't her position to question her superior officer in a time of crisis. ************************ Stewart opened the door to Al's quarters, his weapon drawn. He saw Beth sitting on the couch, obviously very worried but in no way grieving. She looked up quickly, startled yet hopeful, at the sound of the door opening. Disappointment and fear was obviously on her face when she saw Stewart there. "Expecting your husband, Mrs. Calavicci?" Stewart questioned. "Where is he?" "He's dead," Beth told him, giving him a hateful glare and standing up. Stewart shook his head, raising his pistol as he approached her. "No, he isn't. He's alive. Where is he?" The gun was pointed at her forehead. Beth took a deep breath, certain that she was about to die. "I don't know," she said honestly. "And Major Taylor?" She paused. "I don't know." "Is she with him?" Stewart asked gently, though his eyes told of an entirely different sentiment. Beth didn't answer. "Too bad," Stewart told her, aiming the pistol more precisely. "I might have been inclined to spare your life if you had told me." Beth closed her eyes, waiting. A moment later, she heard several shots. She opened her eyes to see Stewart fall, face down. She stared at the body in relieved shock. She didn't really notice the soldier approaching the body and checking it for a pulse. "This one's gone, sir," the soldier said to someone just behind him. Beth looked up at the man the soldier was addressing. "Tom?" Tom Beckett held her gently. "Beth," he said with relief. "Are you okay?" Beth nodded slowly. "I'm fine. Thank goodness you're here!" "Where's Al?" Beth shook her head. "I'm not sure. Commander Strickler is with him, though. Last I heard from him, he'd told me to stay here and wait." Tom nodded. "That's a good idea. Stay clear of the door until you've heard from either Al or me." He turned to a soldier. "Ensign, get this man out of here." "Aye, sir," the soldier said, jumping to the task. "Let's go,"" Tom ordered his soldiers as they started to leave with Stewart's body. "Tom," Beth stopped him. "When you see Al, tell him to get his butt into the infirmary. He's in no condition to play Captain America." Tom looked at her with concern. "What happened?" Beth took a breath. "I can't go into details but, if he doesn't get into the infirmary soon, he'll have severe physical problems." She paused. "I'm scared for him, Tom. He could have internal bleeding if he isn't careful." Tom considered Beth's words carefully. He nodded gently in acknowledgment with a gently smile. "Don't worry, Beth. I'll take him to the infirmary himself." Beth nodded slowly as Tom disappeared from her sight. ************************ Burke was pacing the Control Room. "Where's Stewart?" he demanded from Howell. "He won't respond to his radio," Howell told him. "And I've got a report from Level Two saying that an admiral and a whole slew of Navy SEALs just entered the complex." "That would be Admiral Beckett," Burke surmised. "Where's Calavicci?" "Somewhere on the eighth or ninth level. I'm not sure." "Well, find out!" Burke yelled at him. "Wherever Taylor is, so is he." Howell hesitated. Burke glared at him. "What?" "The complex has been overrun, General," he said slowly. "I suggest we surrender." Burke laughed. "Surrender?" His voice became brusque.. "If you even try, Captain," he said, marching to Howell so that he was only inches away from him, "I'll make sure that you never see anything but black for the rest of your life. Where's Calavicci?" It took a moment for Howell to acknowledge the question. He checked his radio. "Level Eight and going to Nine." Burke looked at him firmly. "Start the countdown." Howell took a step away from him. "No," he told him firmly. Burke glared at him. "What did you say?" Howell took another step back. "I'm not going to be responsible for the deaths of over a hundred people." Burke glowered at him. "You're a coward, Howell." Howell moved further away from Burke as Burke took out his switchblade. As Howell started to run, Burke threw the knife with one quick move. The knife plunged into Howell's back, causing him to scream in pain and collapse to the floor. Howell struggled to get up as Burke grabbed him by his hair and yanked the knife out of Howell's back. A moment later, blood poured from Howell's eyes as Burke threw Howell to the floor, screams filling his ears. Gushie had watched the whole scene in shock behind the console. "Oh, my gawd!" he whispered, slowly inching his way to the door. Burke looked at him, hearing his comment. He drew his pistol with his blood-covered left hand. "Come out in the open, Dr. Conelf," he told him. "Get on your knees and put your hands on top of your head." Gushie hesitated a moment, terrified. "NOW!" Burke screamed at him, pointing the gun towards him. Gushie slowly obeyed. Burke nodded with satisfaction. Walking to Howell's shaking form, he took a small control off of Howell's belt and turned it on. He looked at Howell with a smirk. "Cheer up, Captain. You might actually survive this." With that, he pressed a button on the control and the electronic counter started ticking away. Ten minutes... Nine minutes fifty-nine seconds... Nine minutes fifty-eight seconds... --------------------------------------------------------- Hold on! There's more coming! We promise! Rob and Kathie Freymuth