Date: Thu, 15 Apr 1999 21:20:45 -0600 (MDT) From: "Katherine R. Freymuth" Subject: Vengeance - Chapter 12 Message-ID: Chapter 12 Al Calavicci sat at his desk, staring pensively at an award which hung on his office wall. It had been years since he had seriously thought of what he had undergone between the years 1967 and 1975 - that period in his life known as the Vietnam War. The award was a tribute to his bravery, a reward for his going above and beyond the call of duty, for his heroism. Odd, he had never felt like a hero for his actions. He was just doing his duty when he and Colonel Wojohowitz initiated the plan to set up visual SOS signals throughout North Vietnam, SOS signals to show American pilots the location of POW camps. All he wanted was to get American troops home. Of course, the award said nothing about the events that led to the award's presentation. It only mentioned Al's bravery during the war. Al had never thought of the award as a momento of his bravery, though. When he looked at it, it was more like a reminder of the war. It reminded him of the men who successfully returned home. It also reminded him of the men who never returned home and who probably never will, whether in death or in life. It reminded him of the horrors of that war, of the atrocities done by both sides. Right now, it reminded him of Sam, of the way in which Burke had bound the scientist, and of the pain Al knew, from experience, that Sam had been in - except Al had hung by his wrists. He was extremely grateful that Sam hadn't hung in the same manner and hadn't been beaten with bamboo sticks or rubber tire tubing. The kid didn't know - or at least didn't remember, given that Sam had electroshock therapy - what real pain was and Al hoped he never would. "Admiral," a silky female voice broke into his thoughts mercifully. Al took his eyes off of the award and focused his attention to the ceiling, as he usually did whenever he spoke with Ziggy. "What is it, Ziggy?" "I have just received a report from the Albuquerque police department. Commander Strickler has disappeared from her room in the hospital. Her guard was found with his neck broken." Al sat up quickly in his chair. "What?" "The Commander has apparently been abducted. A nurse says that she heard her scream and went to investigate. She saw a suspicious looking man carrying the Commander down the hallway but was unable to follow him." "Do you have a description of the man?" Al questioned firmly. "Approximately six feet tall, in his late seventies, severely scarred features, green eyes, and well-built. He had no hair on his face or head. Based on this description and the data which you gave me from your last visit with the Commander, there is a ninety-eight percent chance that the Commander was abducted by General Burke." Al leaned back in his chair and sighed in frustration and sorrow. He had a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. "He probably didn't want her screams to be heard by the hospital staff," he muttered quietly. He exhaled. "Damn it! I should have transferred her to Holloman's!" "Her physical condition would have made such a transfer dangerous to her," Ziggy told him. "Not as dangerous as being in Burke's hands," Al commented mostly to himself. "Are there any leads on where he could have taken her?" "I'm afraid not, Admiral," Ziggy answered in a sympathetic tone. Al stood up quickly and started for the door. "I've got to find her." "Admiral, it would be impossible to find her, especially considering that General Burke will most likely take her to an extremely secured area." There was a pause. "I'm afraid there is nothing you can do for her at this time." Al rubbed his face. He hated to admit it but Ziggy was right. Where would he start? He had absolutely nothing to go on. He exhaled in frustration as he collapsed into the couch close to him. He closed his eyes. "Please, be merciful to her," he whispered prayerfully. She couldn't move, couldn't talk, couldn't breathe without screaming in pain. Not to mention she felt sick to her stomach as her body fought the withdrawal she was having from that horrible overdose of opium Burke had given her. Burke had fulfilled his promise to her and the proof was in her inability to fight the extreme pain in which she was now - pain that not even the small traces of opium in her system could counteract. He watched her as her life slowly ebbed away, as she gave short, quiet, pained cried that gradually became more and more quiet. Despite the fact that it was he who had caused her pain and who had relished every scream that he had caused, he began to feel a tinge of pity for the dying Commander. She was, after all, his wife -- the woman he loved even if she didn't return that love. He stood up and walked slowly to her. He then gently stroked her blood-stained hair, to which she gave a moan of agony. She opened her eyes slightly to see him standing over her. A moment later, her eyes closed again. She didn't want to see his face. "Genine, darling," he said softly. "You have paid for your crimes. You need not suffer anymore. Just ask and I will end your life quickly and painlessly." Genine opened her eyes again. She looked into Burke's eyes with hatred. Burke shook his head. "Darling, why do you choose pain? A confession to your crimes and repentance are all you need and you'll be forever free of your pain." "You're sick," Genine breathed before calling out in pain. Burke exhaled. "Genine, at this rate, it will take you another two days to die. Do you really want to suffer for that long?" He looked into her eyes. "Do you?" Genine didn't answer immediately. She closed her eyes as she fought not to scream again. "No," she finally mouthed. "Then confess and repent," he told her. She looked at him as firmly as her weak body would let her. "I confess to betraying you," she whispered. "But I can't repent because I'm not sorry for my actions." Burke shook his head. "You poor, pathetic woman. You can't even see that you have done wrong." He exhaled. "I love you, Genine. Therefore, I am going to have mercy on you." The statement made Genine laugh slightly, causing her extreme pain. "Mercy?" she breathed. "You?" She closed her eyes in exhaustion. "Yes," Burke told her. She heard a loud clicking sound, like that of an automatic pistol being loaded. "You are going to die today instead of two days from now," Burke said quietly. "I'm going to empty this gun into you. Sixteen bullets. Two of them I will reserve for your brain." "You call that mercy?" she breathed. Burke smiled at her. "It's more mercy than you deserve, my love." He walked to the foot of the table on which she lay and stepped onto it. He took the safety off of the pistol and began firing into her. Screams filled the room as the bullets pierced her arms, legs, abdomen, and shoulders. Not one bullet entered her heart or lungs, thus leaving her barely alive when Burke jumped off the table and walked to the head of it. Burke turned Genine's head slowly and kissed her firmly on the lips. "Good-bye, Genine. I love you," he whispered into her ears before pulling the trigger twice. She was dead before the last bullet pierced her temple.