Date: Thu, 22 Aug 1996 15:29:16 -0600 (MDT) From: "Katherine R. Freymuth" Reply-To: "Katherine R. Freymuth" Subject: QL: Slide Before You Leap - part 19 Message-ID: Slide Before You Leap Part 19 Sam was staring at Al in shock. "Al, what the hell are you doing?" he exclaimed.\ "Rectifying a bad situation as best as I can," Al told him. "By putting us under de facto house arrest and resigning from the Navy?" Al looked at him seriously. "You don't get it, do you?" He pointed towards the door emphatically. "Weitzman would have eaten you alive if I hadn't played up to him! Not only would I have gotten court-martialled but you and our sliding friends here would be in prison be the end of next week! You'd never get even the chance to prove your theory and the others would never be able to get off this world! And I wasn't about to let that happen!" "You believe us?" Quinn questioned. Al looked a bit embarrassed. He scratched his head to cover it up. "Well... I could explain away Dr. Arturo and Sam's doctorates but that portal..." "Say," Rembrandt put in. "What's that guy got against you anyway." "And who is he?" Wade added. "Senator Joseph Weitzman," Sam answered the last question. "He's the Chairman of the Congressional Committee that funds my project." He looked at Al. "What did you mean he's been waiting for your resignation all these years, Al?" Al avoided looking at Sam. "We all have out secrets, Sam." "Well, this is a pretty big secret to keep from me!" Sam complained. "How long have you and Weitzman been at each other like that?" Al finally turned to Sam. "It doesn't matter, does it?" "It does to me," Sam told him. Al sighed. "Okay. I'll tell you later. Come to my quarters." "Why not here?" Arturo asked. "This deal that you've made with Senator Weitzman has as much to do with us as it does with Dr. Beckett." Al looked at him firmly. "It's a private matter for Dr. Beckett's ears only. All I will say to you is that Senator Weitzman believes me guilty of something I didn't do and has been trying to pin it on me." "So, what was it that you were supposed to have done?" Sam asked. "Not here, Sam," Al said between an order and a plea. "Trust me." He turned to the corporal. "I'm ready to go to my quarters. Remember your orders." The corporal gave a quick nod, brought his radio up to his mouth, and requested for a person to take his place. The moment the replacement arrived, Al left the lab, followed by the corporal, to go to his quarters. "Dr. Beckett, would you please explain what is going on here?" Arturo demanded. "I wish I knew," Sam told him. "We moved you down here to keep Weitzman and Harlow from learning you were here but once they learned we were using this level when it should be shut down, we had no choice but to bring them down here. As for what the hell Al is doing, I don't know." "He's sacrificing his career for us," Quinn put in. "Yeah," Sam nodded. "But it's not like him to give up so easily. His taking all the blame on himself, that sounds like Al. But his resigning his commission... Al would rather be court-martialled. Whatever Al has between him and Weitzman must be pretty serious." Sam took a breath. "If I can tell you, I will. Meantime, Al is waiting for me." "And what do we do?" Wade asked. "What you have been doing," Sam told her. "I'll be back." With that, he left. "Come, Mr. Mallory," Arturo said after a moment. "We have work to do." ******************************************** Sam approached Al's quarters door slowly, seeing the guard posted just outside of the quarters. The guard immediately let Sam into the quarters and closed the door. Al was sitting on the quarters couch, smoking a cigar, concern on his face. "What took you?" he asked. "Reassuring our guests," Sam told him. "I told them I would tell them what you're going to tell me if I could." Al sat forward so that he had his right elbow on his knee. "You can if you want to but I don't think you will." "Why not?" Al looked at him firmly. "Sam, sit down." Sam hesitated a moment before doing as Al had told him. Al took a puff on his cigar and began. "About twenty-five years ago, I was a P.O.W. in Vietnam. I was a lieutenant then. This one day, some time in the Spring - It's hard to tell time when you're being moved around constantly from one camp to another - I was being transferred along with two other men. I know I heard gunfire in the distance." He drew a breath on his cigar and exhaled. It was obviously difficult for him to tell his story. "Anyway, that night, after we had finally arrived at our new 'home', the V.C. threw this kid into our hootch. He was in bad shape - had gotten shot up pretty bad. The V.C. had taken out the bullets and bandaged him up but they did a shitty job of it. So, I took care of him - cleaned him up as best as I could, redid his bandages. But I knew it was just a matter of time before the kid would die. "I kept his spirit alive by telling him stories and forcing him to tell stories of his own. He told me about this little brother he had at home and about how he'd gotten to be in that hootch with me. "He'd been leading his platoon in to save us three guys. There was an ambush. A Chu Hoi - that's a North Vietnamese who's gone over to the South - she'd set them up and had shot this kid up. The kid should have died but he didn't. When he tried to get back to his platoon, the V.C. picked him up and brought him to our camp. "He talked a lot about hiis kid brother. Absolutely genuis, he told me. Was going to go to MIT in the Fall. "After three days, we found that his wounds had been infected. Poor kid was in so much pain. He knew he wasn't going to make it. He begged me to help him die." Sam looked stunned. "But you didn't." Al shook his head. "No, I didn't. But I didn't try to save him either." Sam couldn't say anything to that. The thought that Al could just let someone die was too much of a shock. "Don't get me wrong," Al told him. "He didn't commit suicide. He just didn't fight to live. He knew his chances for living were nil and he preferred to die sooner than later." "And you did nothing?" Sam asked with a frown. Al puffed on his cigar. "I did what I could to make him comfortable and he thanked me for it. He died two days after the infection had set in. Died in his sleep, thank goodness. "When I got back to the States, I was tried for my inaction. Weitzman was on the prosecution team. They acquitted me of second degree murder but Weitzman never gave up his belief that I was guilty." "And he's been trying to force you into resignation ever since," Sam concluded. Al nodded. He took a breath, readying himself one more time. "There's one more thing you ought to know." Sam looked at him with curiosity. "Before the kid died, he asked me to watch over his little brother. Seems that, despite the brain the brother had, he tended to get into trouble." He laughed slightly. "Funny thing is it happened the other way around." Sam had a peculiar look on his face. "Al, who was he?" Al nodded like he knew Sam would ask. He looked at him intensely. "He's name was Lieutenant Thomas Beckett." Sam looked at him, stunned. Al nodded. "That's right, Sam. He was your brother." ---------------------------------------------------------- To be continued .... in part 20 Kat Freymuth