Date: Thu, 15 Apr 1999 21:25:00 -0600 (MDT) From: "Katherine R. Freymuth" Subject: Vengeance - Chapter 17 Message-ID: Chapter 17 The first thing he noticed was the intense headache. It was worse than any hangover he had ever had. Then he noticed the pain in his shoulders and elbows, and the slight swinging sensation - and the smell. The smell was very familiar. It was a smell he had often experienced as he hung the way he was now - with his elbows tied behind his back and his wrists supporting his weight. It was the smell of his own sweat and blood. It filled his nostrils, causing his stomach to turn. He fought an urge to vomit. Slowly, he opened his eyes. It was only then, when he saw a concrete floor rocking underneath him, that he realized he was still alive. He took a slow breath. Pain filled his head, lungs, and throat, reminding him of what had caused him to believe he was dead in the first place. The pain was enough to warrant a scream but he didn't succumb to the instinct. No matter what, Admiral Albert Calavicci wasn't going to let the bastard hear him scream. Al looked around, holding back his pain as he moved his head. The small room in which he found himself looked familiar. He closed his eyes to try to remember before opening them again and looking around. He was certain this was the very same room in which Sam had been tortured. His suspicions were confirmed when the door to the room was opening, giving Al a glimpse of a carpetted hallway, the same one he had seen when Genine had entered the room in the past. The person who entered the room now was not Genine, however, but rather her namesake. Looking at the young man, Al remembered how, only two days ago, this same young man was tied up and kneeling on Al's bedroom floor. The young man looked at Al with a slight smile. "Oh, good! You're awake. Dad will be really pleased with that." "General Burke is your father?" Al questioned in a raspy voice. Gene smiled warmly. "Yup." "And everything you said in my bedroom was a lie." Gene laughed. "It went precisely as the General wanted." Al nodded slightly with understanding. "The car-bomb and the shooting were only meant to keep me on my toes." Gene moved about the room, clearing away boxes and rubbage before taking a large plastic sheet and laying it on the floor below Al. "Well, the car-bomb was supposed to put you in the hospital. But, even though it didn't, it still accomplished its purpose," Gene told him. Al looked at the man carefully. "Why aren't you in jail for shooting me?" Gene laughed. "Do you think the General would let his only son stay in a jail?" "Actually, yes," Al answered. "After all, he did kill his own wife." Gene laughed. "Is this supposed to be some kind of revelation?" He walked towards the door. "Don't think you can turn me against the General. You see unlike my step-mother, I'm not a traitor." Al lowered his eyes in contempt. *Like father, like son.* He took a breath. "Genine Nora Strickler was a patriot and a hero. It is you and your father who are traitors." Gene stopped in his journey to the door. He turned around and walked behind Al. Al could hear him climb a short metal ladder. "I was going to get a pair of scissors for this task but, since you're in a sour mood...." He ripped Al's shirt with a harsh yank, causing Al's shoulders extreme pain which Al fought. "Ever heard of buttons?" Al asked sarcastically. "I believe they're on the front of the shirt, not the back." Gene pulled down on the shirt's sleeves above the elbows, thus removing the shirt from Al and causing Al extreme pain in his arms. The only remains of the shirt left on Al were the forearms. Gene dropped the shirt to the floor before climbing down the ladder. He folded the ladder and placed it agaisnt a wall before picking up the ragged shirt and leaving the room. Al exhaled. "Terrific, Calavicci," he muttered to hear his own voice. "You've been kidnapped by the Manson family." He once again looked around, analysing the situation. It wasn't good. Not only was he hanging in a very painful position but also his legs were tied together and he had no means of escape. He was, for all intents and purposes, helpless. The door opened yet again, allowing Burke to enter, a gloating victorious smile on his lips. "Hello, Admiral. I trust you slept well." Al glared at him. "Kind of hard not to when you've been rendered unconscious." He flinched slightly in pain. Burke smiled at him. "Yes, it is, isn't it?" He approached him slowly and looked into Al's eyes, which were just slightly above Burke's head. "Do you know what I'm going to do to you, Albert?" Al didn't say a word, gauging Burke's thoughts by what he saw in the General's eyes. A moment later, he took a slow breath. "You're going to kill me," he finally said. Burke took a step closer to Al so that he was only inches away from him. "Oh, I'm going to do much more than kill you, Albert. I am going to make you suffer for what you did to me and to my beloved Genine." Al raised his eyebrows. "What I did? As I recall, Genine died by your hands, not mine." Burke smiled slightly. "It was the Navy who caused her to turn against me and it was you whom she obeyed. She would still be here - she would still be mine - if it wasn't for you and your Navy. And so, you will be punished." As he said thhis, Gene entered the room. Burke turned to his son with a smile. "If I'm to blame for Genine's murder and for your injuries, then I'm also the one to thank for your son," Al pointed out as Burke took an object from Gene's hand. "As I recall, you didn't have children before you leaped." "You are quite right," Burke said without turning around. "I do have you to thank for him. However, it doesn't change the negative aspects of what you did to me." He turned and looked at Al. "It's more than just the burns and the loss of twenty years, Admiral. It's more than the struggles I went through." He slowly reapproached Al. "You see, when that explosion ripped through the Accelerator Chamber, it irradiated me. I've been dying for the past twenty years, Admiral, and only two things have kept me alive: the urge for revenge and my son." He smiled slightly. "And so it is only fitting that my son should be here to witness your quite slow and quite painful death." "Oh, I'm honored," Al told him sarcastically. Burke huffed with slight amusement. He then raised his left hand to reveal a single key - the item he took from his son. Al huffed at Burke's showmanship as Burke slowly walked to a small locker. Burke proceeded to unlock the locker with great show. A moment later, he removed a four foot leather whip from the locker. "Gene," he commanded his son, holding the key out to be taken from him. Gene immediately retrieved the key from his father. He stood back to give Burke room. Burke returned to Al with a malicious smile. "I hear you're Catholic, Admiral. Or at least, you used to be. I think maybe it's time you took up your faith again." He paused dramatically. "If I were you, Admiral, I would start praying for a quick death." A moment later, the smack of leather hitting bare skin filled the room. Gushie was rarely a person to pace nervously. He never really had a reason to do so - not since Sam first leaped anyway. Sure, he'd had trouble coping with a lot of situations but this was the very top of the pile. So, he paced. "Gushie," Verbina's voice broke in gently. "It's been twenty-five hours since Al left the complex." Her voice was remorsefully quiet but remindful. Gushie didn't answer immediately. "I'm not sure I can go through with this," he said quietly. Verbina nodded with sympathetic understanding. "I'm not sure I can either. But we have to. We promised Al." She took a breath. "Listen. Just because he has disappeared, that doesn't mean that...." She couldn't finish the sentence. "But it does mean that it's now up to you to tell Sam what he has to do, especially since Al risked his life to find out by leaving the complex." Gushie looked at Verbina with concern, stopping his pace to do so. "What about Dr. Calavicci and their daughters? What do we tell them?" Verbina took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, thoughtfulness in her eyes. "We'll just have to tell them the truth," she finally said. "We can't keep this a secret from them like we kept the fact that they are here from Al." Gushie began to pace again. He really didn't like the situation. He wished he was in France or Hawaii or even Santa Fe - anywhere other than the Project Quantum Leap complex, forced to take up his boss's job. "I'll tell Beth," Verbina assured him. "Right now, Sam needs you. And I know you can do this." Gushie stopped pacing. He took a deep breath to calm his already very fragile nerves and took a handlink from the console. "Ziggy," he said as firmly as he could. "Center me on Dr. Beckett."