From: akulsum@aol.com (AKulsum) Newsgroups: alt.tv.quantum-leap.creative Subject: REPOST: window 5/7 Date: 4 Oct 1996 01:18:17 -0400 Message-Id: <5326mp$scn@newsbf02.news.aol.com> This hasn't made it to the archives yet, so I thought maybe it had times the first time through. Anyhow, I'll try to get part 6 out before I leave for the weekend, but there's no telling. Also, be on the lookout for re-writes. I've had a couple of people offering some very valuable advice that has just made me think....:) -amkt "Window to the Future" pt. V When Verbeena called Sam out of the Imaging Chamber four hours later, Al's condition had not changed. The other leaper, it seemed, had been stirring up trouble, though. The problem was that they had no idea what the trouble could be. Sam wiped the residual dampness from his face and exited the chamber. "What's going on, Verbeena?" Sam asked, all business. It was a cover, and Verbeena saw right through it, but she didn't comment. "The senator is preparing to meet with our imposter. Ziggy hasn't the faintest idea what she's planning and we son't know how to stop it." She paused, glancing sidelong at Sam. "Now without letting the cat out of the bag." "Verbeena, the government doesn't even believe _I_ leaped! What's it going to take to convince them there's another group of leapers out there from another time trying to to destroy us? I could reveal myself, but she'll still see "me" in the waiting room. There's just no way." Verbeena sighed and collapsed in a nearby chair. "How's Al?" she asked without meeting his eyes. Sam felt tears threatening again, but he pushed them back. "The same," he choked. "Verbeena, I-I don't know what to do. All this happening....Al, the other leaper...I don't know what to do," he repeated, and despite his best efforts, the tears come again. Wasn't there supposed to be a point when you ran out of tears? "I don't know what I'd do if he died, Verbeena. He's done so much for me and I need him so much." Sam's words dissolved into deep sobs and Verbeena placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Why won't he wake up?" he demanded between clenched teeth. "Why won't he come back? I never even-even got to tell him what he meant to me. And now-" "He's not gone yet, Sam. You're forgetting--Al's been through a lot worse." "I know. And that's my fault too." "Your fault?" Verbeena withdrew her hand, confused. "I had chances to help, to make his life a little easier, but I didn't." He swallowed. It was on the tip of Verbeena's tongue to tell Sam that those weren't his fault, or that he shouldn't be indulging in self-pity when Al needed him. She wanted to tell him that Al had made those decisions and was at peace with them, but one look at Sam's tear stained face told her it would fall on deaf ears. Instead, she held him as he cried into her shoulder. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------ Al slowly rose into consiousness, as if afraid the act might bring on more pain. He wasn't certain exactly why, but he called for Sam, softly, as if he could sense his friend's presence there. There was no response. He sat up, bracing himself against the wall. One eye slit cautiously open and he found himself seated next to the metal chair. A slight gasp escaped him and he shoved himself violently away from the chair, pushing at it with his feet. Al closed his eyes to steady himself and slow his rapid heartbeat and breathing. *This is absurd, Calavicci. Get ahold of yourself. You've been through worse than this!* Gingerly, Al prodded at his limbs searching for injury. He felt astonishingly fit. Then he tried to stand. Blinding vertigo clouded his mind and he felt a sharp pain lance through every bone in his body, but he refused to sit back down. Involuntary tears of pain rose in his eyes and he wiped them away impatiently. All he knew was that he had to get out of the room. He had to put an end to this project. With the new funding, assuming Verbeena and Gooshie could secure it with an imposter in his place, would ensure that Sam would be taken care of if he was successful. He wondered absently what they would do if he did succeed. Torture and kill him, no doubt. Hell, they'd almost done that a few hours ago and he hadn't done anything yet. Blurred vision was still somehow able to pick out the faint outline of a well-hidden panel beside the door. A tight smile materialized, pressed against gritted teeth. Now came the hard part. Al crossed the room and picked up the smooth metal chair. The act would have taken considerable effort under ordinary circumstances; now he fought to ignore the excrutiating pain as he crossed the room again and crashed the chair into the panel. Al winced as the crash echoed in the small room, and then again as the panel fell to the floor. His broken wrist throbbed which was odd because he couldn't seem to remember how he broke it. He stood still, waiting for the sound of footsteps, but the seconds ticked off without any. "Stupid," Al muttered. "Always guard your prisoners, no matter how helpless they seem. These guys could take a lesson from the VC." Thank God they hadn't. He turned to the exposed panel. Al was an engineer; re-wiring the door to open form the inside should be a fairly easy matter, but the cloud that had rested on his brain wouldn't let him see clearly and all the wires blended together into one gray blob. Al ran his hands through his hair, still panting from his earlier exertion. He reached in to see if he could tell what the circuits did by touch, but all he felt was a mess of wires and a few sharp edges that probably would have done him even more damage had energy been running through them. Al sighed in frusturation as he slid to the floor, his energy supply depleted, and hid his face in his hands. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------------------ Ziggy had the conversation in conference room B piped through to the control room of Project Quantum Leap. Sam, Verbeena, and Gooshie listened in, trying to figure out what the other leaper had done. Tina was absent, having given some excuse and wandered off in a genius-induced stupor. Two guards had been posted outside of the conference room door, ready to burst in if trouble arose. The guards had accepted the orders without question, but it was clear that the idea of holding the Admiral both puzzled and concerned them. "Admiral," the senator's voice sounded over the speakers, "I am now ready to see those records and requests you say you have. Today, if you please." Sam flinched. "Of course, Senator. I'm sure you will find my proposal......delicious." Verbeena turned to Sam with a startled glance, but Sam put a finger to his lips and motioned to the speaker. There was a moment or two of deathly silence and then all hell broke loose. Before Sam knew what was happening, Reed had not only denied them the funds, but was calling Washington to discuss cutting PQL indefinitely. The guards had burst in upon Verbeena's command and the senator was telling them to take the Admiral, and Sam Beckett, into custody. "I don't understand.....these aren't the records," Zoe gasped out, panic-stricken and with, Sam thought, astonishingly realistic inflection. Verbeena grabbed Sam's arm. "Sam, we have to do something. The time for indecision is long past; we have to stop this _now_." "We have records, reciepts-" "Sam," Verbeena snapped, looking more dangerous than Sam could ever recall her looking. "The government has just been looking for an excuse to cut us and Al has been the thin line that's been stopping them from doing it. He goes, so does the project. You have to do something _now_!" "Doctor? The Admiral has regained consciousness," Ziggy interjected. Sam was torn, but he knew he would have to act now or all was lost, and it wasn't just him: Al's life was at stake too. He darted out of the control room.