Theorizing
that one could time-travel within his own lifetime, Dr. Sam Beckett led an
elite group of scientists into the desert to develop a top-secret project
known as Quantum Leap. Pressured
to prove his theories or lose funding, Dr. Beckett prematurely stepped into
the Project Accelerator…and vanished.
He
awoke to find himself in the past, suffering from partial amnesia and facing
a mirror image that was not his own.
Fortunately, contact with his own time was maintained through
brainwave transmissions with Al, the Project Observer, who appeared in the
form of a hologram that only Dr. Beckett can see and hear.
As
evil ones do their best to stop Dr. Beckett’s journey, his children, Dr.
Samantha Josephine Fulton and Stephen Beckett, continuously strive to
retrieve their time-lost father and bring him home permanently.
Despite returning home several times over the last decade, Dr.
Beckett has remained lost in the time stream…his final fate no longer
certain.
Trapped
in the past and driven by an unknown force, Dr. Beckett struggles to accept
his destiny as he continues to find himself leaping from life to life,
putting things right that once went wrong with the hopes that his next
leap…will be the final leap home.
THE
INTERROGATION
Written
by Katherine Freymuth
With
special thanks to Erik Dreiling
Previously
on Quantum Leap:
Deceit:
Sam
Leaps into the life of Alexander Lothoman, Jr., the older brother of
Nathaniel Lothoman, during the early phase of Project Alexander. While Al
insists that he’s there to prevent Lothoman from completing his Project,
Sam feels that he’s there for other reasons. That reason is revealed in
the person of Tanya Primrose, a young nurse who is working for Lothoman. As
it turns out, her body was found in a motel room. Sam quickly set out to
save her, and he did, with the insistence that she change her name and leave
the island. She did and Al then reported that wherever she was, she was
safe.
Post
Traumatic Leap Syndrome: Salvation: Sam
Leaped into the life of Giovanni D’Abrosca, a tour guide living in the
city of
Assisi
,
Italy
. Al informs him that he is there to prevent the disappearance of a young
teenage girl. However, before he can help the girl, Sam is unexpectedly
pulled out of his Leap and before he knows it, finds himself as Al
Calavicci. Ziggy’s holographic matrix tells Sam that he is there to
prevent Ensign Sharpe’s suicide. Sam manages to calm the distraught Ensign
and then promises him that he will find out the truth behind the tragedy.
Julianna, after Sam Leaps out, keeps her word and soon the emotional wound
between herself and the Ensign begins to heal.
Bloodlines:
Ed and Christa are
able to finally put the pieces of their broken lives back together when
Vaughn Rickar returns yet again. While Ed is detained in the Holding Chamber
at Lothos’ Project, he is severely tortured by Xavier. Back at Quantum
Leap, Vaughn sets out to destroy Al. Having managed to get Al and Julianna
alone, Vaughn makes his move. After overpowering Julianna, he then is about
to shoot Al when Christa sneaks up behind him, shooting him.
The Evil Leaper is pulled out as he lies on the floor, bleeding,
leaving in his place a severely wounded Ensign Sharpe. From there Ed is
immediately rushed to the infirmary where he is under the care of Doctors
Aurora Lofton and Roy Bremmer. Hope for Ed is slim, as he had slipped into a
comatose state.
The
Meeting: Ed
Sharpe finds himself at Al’s Place in the midst of his deceased best
friend, Joe Wright. While Ed feels intense guilt for the loss of his unborn
child and for not being able to protect Christa when she needed him, thanks
to the Evil Leaper’s taking his place, Joe is able to show him, through
the intervention of Ed’s grandfather and through glimpses into how
devastating Ed’s death would be to Christa, that Ed is not at fault and
that he needs to return to Christa. As Ed begins to regain consciousness, he
discovers that Doctor Roy Bremmer is inches away from poisoning him. As he
weakly struggles to stop Bremmer, Al comes in and pulls the doctor off of
Ed. Ordering that Bremmer be taken to the security office, Al is now
determined to find out who Bremmer really is.
And
now the story continues…
PROLOGUE
Project
Quantum Leap
Office
of Chief Daniel Fulton
June
15, 2008
1:04
AM
Al Calavicci rubbed his face roughly as he left the project
infirmary, glancing at his watch as he did so. 0104 hours. That meant that
it was officially June 15th. That meant officially he was now
seventy-four years old. And right at that moment, he felt every bit of the
year’s time had given him. The past week didn’t help in making him feel
any younger either.
Al himself had experienced Lothos’ “hospitality”, receiving a
broken hand as a result. But even his injuries were nothing compared to what
they had done to Edward Sharpe IV, his son-in-law. In Al’s opinion, Ed’s
survival was nothing short of a miracle… that and sheer determination on
Ed’s part. To think that his determination to survive had almost become
irrelevant thanks to the actions of Doctor Roy Bremmer galled Al to no end.
Yes, Al felt older now than he had in a long time… but he also was more
angry than he could ever remember being. And an angry Rear-Admiral Albert
Calavicci, retired, was a dangerous thing to tangle with.
Stepping into the security office, he noted the open door of Chief
Fulton’s office and the man who sat, handcuffed, in front of the Chief’s
desk - the man who had nearly murdered Al’s son-in-law, the man who
murdered his unborn grandchild. Oh, an Evil Leaper had used the poison on
Christa to cause the miscarriage that nearly cost her own life as well, but
this man had made the toxic concoction. Al didn’t have physical proof –
yet – that Bremmer had created the poison that he was going to inject into
Ed only a few minutes ago. But Al didn’t need physical proof to know, in
his gut, that this was the guy who for the past few months had royally
screwed his family.
Ignoring Ziggy’s statement that Daniel Fulton had been awakened and
called to the office, Al walked towards the office, determined to get
answers from Bremmer one way or another without anyone getting in his way.
As Al approached the office, he saw Bremmer turn his head. The latter
looked at Al with what could only be called cocky amusement and arrogance,
sending shivers down Al’s back as he looked into the eyes of his enemy,
eyes he was now certain he had seen before in a completely different
setting.
"Just
keep in mind one thing, Al. There are no choices that come without
consequences. You have no idea what you're messing with here, so I highly
advise you to watch your back. If you do anything to jeopardize what
Nathaniel is setting out to accomplish, you and those who you hold near and
dear will forever remember the name Lothoman."
The man in front of Al was thirty years older and Al wasn’t sure
why he didn’t see the connection ages ago when Aurora Lofton had hired
Bremmer as an on-staff physician, but Al had no doubts now as he looked at
the man smirking defiantly at him.
“Alexander Daniel Lothoman, Jr.,” Al greeted, if you could call a
look that could kill a greeting.
Duke Lothoman, also known as Doctor Roy Bremmer, smiled wickedly up
at his younger brother’s nemesis. “I warned you a long time ago, Al.
Well, a long time ago from my perspective.” He leaned forward slightly,
like a tiger eyeing his prey. “There are no choices that come without
consequences. And now, you do know the name Lothoman very, very well.”
Al felt his jaw tighten ever so slightly.
PART
ONE
Taos
,
New Mexico
August
27, 2007
The heavy, quick rapping on the door had startled him slightly as
he’d set his newspaper down and adjusted his reading glasses. Judging by
the look on his face, he appeared as if he were more annoyed by the
interruption than startled by the rapping. Mumbling something to himself, he
stood up and went across the small living room and over to the door. Slowly
opening it he was met with the presence of a young man dressed in a crisp
Naval uniform. The man, more like a kid in his opinion, didn’t appear to
be older than twenty-five years of age.
The kid took a good, long look at the older man for a moment,
appearing as if he were making sure that he had the right person. “Duke
Lothoman,” he said plainly.
The older man shook his head. “Sorry, kid. You got the wrong
guy.” He was about to close the door when the kid shot an arm out and
firmly grabbed the door. The older man’s eyes widened a bit in shock and
anger.
“I don’t think so,” the kid replied with a slight smirk.
“This is crazy,” he shot back. “My name’s Bremmer. Roy
Bremmer.”
“You’re name,” the kid corrected him with slight irritation in
his tone, “is Alexander Daniel Lothoman, Junior, and you have a younger
brother, Nathaniel. Nearly thirty years ago you assisted him with Project
Alexander in the
British Isles
. And,” he added as he looked Bremmer straight in the eye, “if I’m not
mistaken, in January of ‘66 you shot your own father four times in the
back, all because you wanted to protect your little brother.”
Duke simply stood there in shock. After a couple moments he quickly
glanced around to make sure that no one else was present. He hastily cocked
a thumb over his shoulder. “Come in,” he said to the kid as he was
already heading back to his chair. As the kid stepped inside, Duke said to
him, “Make it quick, kid. What are you here for?”
“I’m here because your brother sent me.” He met Duke’s gaze
as he sat down on the small couch.
“That’s a load of bullcrap,” Duke pointed out. “Nathaniel’s
dead. He’s been dead for a few years now. Hell, the last I heard was that
Alexander was destroyed, along with just about everything in it. Including
Nate,” he quickly added as he looked at the kid. “So I don’t know what
kind of-”
“This isn’t some kind of game, old man. Your brother isn’t
dead; he survived the attack. In fact he’s better than ever. He’s more
powerful than you could possibly imagine.”
“I know the story,” Duke groused. “I know fully well that Nate
had integrated himself into his Project. He became the Project.”
“He needs you,” he said as he locked gazes with Duke. “Lothos
sent me here because he said you’re the only one who he could trust
impeccably.”
Duke slowly rocked in his chair. “Lothos,” he said with a touch
of astonishment in his tone.
The kid nodded. “He wanted me to tell you of the one mainly
responsible for the destruction of Project Alexander. His name is Samuel
Beckett.”
“Beckett?” Duke said with a raised eyebrow. “I remember that
guy. He and Nate went to MIT together. Beckett destroyed Alexander? How?”
“Not far from here,” the kid explained, “Beckett created a top
secret project known as Quantum Leap. It’s located beneath the desert in
Stallions Gate.”
Duke held up a hand and leaned forward in his chair. Clearly the
frustration and confusion were evident in Duke’s eyes and facial
expression. “Wait a damn minute here, will you? First of all, I don’t
know who the hell you are, alright? Mind telling me that?”
“I’ve got two words for you,” he said. “Time travel.”
“You’re from the future,” Duke said. When the kid nodded he
shook his head. “But if Beckett had destroyed Alexander then how could you
possibly be from the future?”
“Like the
Phoenix
, Alexander was brought back from the ashes. Lothos had Alexander recreated.
For a very long time it’s been our goal to bring down Beckett and Admiral
Albert Calavicci. Those two bastards are your brother’s greatest
threat.”
“And who are you? You never really answered my question.”
The kid smirked. “Don’t let my appearance fool you. I’m not who
I appear to be. You see,” he said as he stood up and went over to the
other side of the room where a small oval shaped mirror hung from the wall,
“when I came back I switched places with this guy. He just so happens to
be Admiral Calavicci’s son-in-law.”
“I thought,” Duke said as he stood up, “that when people
traveled in Time, they did it in their own bodies.”
“They do, but what you’re seeing here is just the illusion of his
physical aura. His name is Edward Sharpe the Fourth. He was chosen mainly
because of his close connection with the Admiral’s family; he’s married
to one of his daughters and just so happens to adore the hell out of the old
man.”
“And your name is...?” Duke asked.
“Vaughn. Look pal,” he said as he turned his back to the mirror
and faced Duke, “Lothos needs you, okay? He wants you to infiltrate
Quantum Leap. I will be there from time to time as Ensign Sharpe to make
contact with you. Lothos tells me that you have some very influential
contacts.”
Duke shrugged his shoulders. “I know a few people but getting into
Quantum Leap is going to be a bit tricky.”
“You have your medical license, don’t you?” Vaughn asked.
“Yeah but I haven’t practiced in quite a while.” When he met
Vaughn’s unwavering gaze he nodded, “Alright. Tell Na-Lothos,” he
quickly corrected himself, “that I will get in touch with some people
today and get everything set up.”
Vaughn said, “You got it.” He started towards the door and was
about to open it when Duke called to him.
“How will I know it’s you and not this Ensign Sharpe that I’d
be talking to?”
As he stood in the doorway he grinned at Duke. “Oh, trust me, pal.
You’ll know when it’s me.” And with those words, Vaughn pushed open
the screen door and stepped outside, leaving Duke standing there in a state
of shock, concern, and simple, pure amazement. After all this time, Nate was
alive. Well, he quickly corrected himself, not Nate as a person but some
form of him had survived nonetheless. Once more, even across the infinite
recesses of Time, Nathaniel had called for him. After several moments he
then reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone.
Project
Quantum Leap
Office
of Chief Daniel Fulton
June
15, 2008
1:08
AM
“How the hell did you get into this complex?” Al demanded,
towering over the older brother of Project Quantum Leap’s worst enemy, who
was still seated in front of the desk.
Duke chuckled slightly at Al’s question. “Through the security
gates. You see, I have security clearance, thanks to Doctor Lofton and to
you. Otherwise, it would be a little difficult… no, a lot difficult,
actually… to get into this complex. Daniel and Julianna really did a
marvelous job working together to make the security here tighter than a
drum. You should be proud of them. Especially that trick with…” He
raised his cuffed arms and snapped his fingers on his right hand. “…with
that complex-wide electromagnetic scanning to keep Nathaniel’s leapers out
of the complex.” He paused and grimaced slightly. “It does have that one
minor flaw, though. You can’t find leapers if they leap in before
they come into the complex.” He looked at Al with a slight grin.
“That’s how Nathaniel’s leaper got in the last time, isn’t it?
Leaping into Ensign Sharpe before
he even got into the complex?”
“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it!” Al
berated him, getting into Duke’s face with his own. “We don’t hire
anyone without giving each person a very thorough background check. There
was a complete personal history with Dr. Roy Bremmer, from the day he was
born right to the point where he was hired. What did you do? Take over his
life completely? What did you do with him?”
Duke smirked at the fury in Al’s face. “I didn’t do anything to
Dr. Roy Bremmer. I am Dr. Roy Bremmer.”
“Bullshit!” Al told him emphatically.
“Seriously,” Duke countered. “I’ve been Dr. Roy Bremmer since
1981. I changed my identity completely, rewrote my life. Hell, I even went
so far as to get a real doctorate in medicine.” He leaned forward, now
being the one getting into Al’s face. “Dr. Lofton hired me onto Project
Quantum Leap fair and square, Admiral. It’s not my fault that she didn’t
know that I was working for Nathaniel.” He paused, considering. “Of
course, I didn’t really offer that information to her either. But I
don’t think that would have gone over well for me during the interviews
for the job.”
Al leveled a harsh glare at the prisoner, clearly not amused by his
calm, almost condescending manner. Seeing that this line of questioning
wasn’t going to get him much further, he changed tactics. Taking several
steps away from Duke, he turned towards him, tucking his hands into his
pockets.
“So you changed your identity in 1981,” Al started, latching onto
that one bit of information that Duke had given him. “Why? It couldn’t
have been to infiltrate Quantum Leap. Even Lothos’ project wasn’t
completely functional then.”
Duke leaned back in his chair. “Nathaniel no longer needed me for
my unique services.”
“He didn’t have anyone for you to kill?” Al asked
sarcastically.
Duke’s self-assured smile slowly vanished. “Every person that I
have eliminated was to protect Nathaniel and his project. Nothing is more
important to me than my brother and his legacy. I am not psychotic.”
“Could have fooled me,” Al told him. “Personally, I think
anyone who would willingly and deliberately poison an innocent pregnant
woman before attempting to do the same to her husband must be psychotic.”
Duke lowered his eyelids. “I do what I have to do to protect my
brother, Admiral, to protect my own flesh and blood. You can’t tell me
that you wouldn’t do the same for your own family. After all, wasn’t it
you who shot and paralyzed Zoë Malvison to protect your daughter?
Wouldn’t you do anything… anything…
to protect your daughters from harm? That is all I am doing, Admiral.
Protecting my brother from harm.”
“It’s not the same thing and you know it,” Al countered, again
standing over the man. “My daughter would have died if I hadn’t shot
that bitch. That was self-defense!”
“If
your shooting Zoë was self-defense, so is what I did for Nate! Face it,
Admiral! You and I are cut from the same cloth. We’ll both do anything
to get what we want, no matter what that thing may be.”
Duke’s words had hit the wrong nerve in Al, causing the Admiral’s
rage to come to the surface stronger than ever. Grabbing the prisoner by the
collar, he quickly forced the man to his feet, not even giving him a chance
to gain any sense of equilibrium before roughly forcing him against a nearby
wall.
“Don’t you DARE compare me to you!” Al growled at him. “I’m
nothing like you! I don’t hurt innocent people for a megalomaniac bent on
changing history so he can rule the world!”
“Don’t be so self-righteous, Admiral!” Duke glared into Al’s
eyes. “It’s not like you never changed history for your own good.
You’re a hypocrite, Admiral! Hell, from what I’ve seen, every leap
Beckett makes is to help you and him and no one else. I’ve read the
records on his leaps. I know you wouldn’t even have your wife and children
if it weren’t for this project’s interfering with the natural course of
history.” He paused long enough to gauge Al’s thoughts before
continuing, not giving Al a chance to respond. “Who’s to say who is
innocent and who is guilty in our little war, Admiral? There are no
innocents, no guilty… just casualties. Christa and Edward are exactly
that: casualties of our own private war on who has the right to control
time.” He shook his head slightly. “It’s really too bad Christa and
Eddie survived this time around. Things are only going to get worse for them
now, I’m afraid.”
Al had felt the rage building inside of him, yearning to be released
but he had held it back… until then.
“You son of a bitch!” he roared, letting loose a barrage of
punches that were reminiscent of his younger years as Golden Gloves
Champion. His opponent didn’t have a chance to defend himself with his
back against the wall and his hands still handcuffed.
Duke found himself slowly sliding down the wall, crying out with each
punch. However, each time that he started to slip towards the floor, the
enraged father attacking him brought him roughly back up to his feet to
inflict more damage.
Al found himself unable, and unwilling, to stop beating the
handcuffed man in his hands. Suddenly, Duke Lothoman became the symbol for
all that Lothos had done to everyone he loved: Zoë kidnapping and scarring
Christa, Lothos capturing, torturing and branding Sam, Al’s own torment at
the hands of Lothos’ people, Lothos’ leaper poisoning Christa and
causing the death of her unborn child, Lothos torturing Eddie while his
leaper attacked him and Julianna.
“ENOUGH!” Al yelled in fury as he grabbed the weakened man and
turned him around, wrapping his arm around the man’s neck and tightening
his hold. “Enough, damn it!”
“STOP!” a choked plea escaped from the prisoner’s lips. “Al,
stop! Please! Please!”
It wasn’t Duke’s use of his first name, nor was it the plea for
mercy. It was the tone of his voice that caused the Admiral to stop in his
fury-driven attack on the man - that caused Al to drop his bloodied hands to
his side, allowing the prisoner to drop on the floor gasping for breath.
Al looked down upon the cowering man on the floor whose hands were
raised protectively and whose eyes looked into Al’s with desperation. For
a brief, almost miniscule, moment, it seemed to Al as if he were looking
into the eyes of someone else, someone very dear to him.
“Sam?” Al murmured, taking several steps away from Duke as he
stared, stunned by the sight of his best friend’s soul in the eyes of his
enemy. Without another word spoken, but with a multitude of questions
running through his mind, Al quickly turned and left the security office,
brushing hurriedly past Daniel Fulton, who had just arrived.
“Admiral,” Daniel called in an attempt to stop the harried man.
“Al! What’s wrong?” he called to his commanding officer’s back. Not
getting an answer, he frowned before stepping into his office to see Duke
Lothoman, bloodied and weak, leaning against the wall of his office, his
eyes closed and tears slowly trickling down his cheeks.
Sensing someone in the room with him, Duke slowly opened his eyes and
looked at the Chief of Security with a hint of trepidation but also with
deep sadness in his eyes.
“I…” he started and then swallowed. Looking down at himself, he
gave a sad chuckle. “I think I need a doctor.” He closed his eyes and
leaned his head back, exhaling slowly. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Fulton
didn’t think he had ever heard those particular words come from the lips
of Duke Lothoman, also known as Dr. Roy Bremmer.
PART
TWO
Assisi
,
Italy
August
17, 1985
4:52
PM Central European Time
(CET )
“NO!” Dr. Sam Beckett felt himself growl lowly as the quantum
effect slipped away. Instantly, he felt as if a thousand sets of eyes were
on him, even though, from the look of it, it really wasn’t more than five
or six. He quickly looked about to see what kind of situation he had leaped
into and found that the only danger around him was of him becoming more of a
spectacle than he cared to be. Smiling sheepishly, he lowered his head to
avoid the stares.
‘Thanks loads,’ he thought with sarcasm to the force that had
landed him in that particular situation. ‘You seem to take great joy in
embarrassing the hell out of me.’ Raising his head again, he noticed that
everyone had gone on with whatever it was they were doing, causing Sam to
question why he would exclaim ‘No!’, especially in…
‘Where am I?’ he questioned silently as he looked around. He was
first struck with how blue his surroundings were. The walls were painted
with rich cerulean blue that reached all the way up to the top of the high
ceiling, the dome of which was covered with story-depicting murals. At the
front of the room was an intensely ornate altar with a mural of the Virgin
Mary as its centerpiece. Two columns of pews started a few feet in front of
the altar and ended only a few short feet from the back wall, which was
covered with murals depicting some kind of important story. A brief search
in his mind allowed Sam to realize that the murals were of the life of
Saint Joseph
, husband to Mary.
“I’m in a church,” Sam murmured under his breath, just low
enough for no one to hear him.
Again, he looked around, finding himself at ease in the obviously
Roman Catholic chapel. Finding a pew, he slowly sat down and looked up at
the Gothic altar. He took several moments to admire the artistry so clearly
and lovingly put into designing the chapel before looking internally with
questioning. Feeling a wallet tucked in his back pocket, he reached around
and carefully removed it. A driver’s license revealed that his host’s
name was Giovanni Pio D’Abrosca and that he lived in the Italian city of
Assisi
.
“I’m in
Italy
?” Sam questioned quietly before quickly looking around. Fortunately for
him, there was no one nearby to hear his misplaced question. In fact, there
didn’t seem to be anyone in the chapel now except for a single young woman
on the other side of the room.
For some unknown reason, Sam felt drawn to the young woman, who
couldn’t have been more than seventeen or eighteen years old, and he found
himself standing and going to her. He slowly sat down a few feet from her,
noticing how her concentration seemed to be focused on the statue of the
Virgin Mary. Sam decided to break the silence after a few seconds of
pondering on the teenager and her attentiveness.
“It’s a beautiful church.”
The young woman turned her head towards him, confusion on her face.
“I’m sorry?”
“It’s a beautiful church,” Sam repeated, smiling slightly to
reassure the girl that he didn’t mean harm.
For a moment, she seemed to be thinking about his statement before
replying. “Yes. Yes, it is. I think… I think this is the one place in
Assisi
that I like the most. Oh, I visited St. Francis’ and St. Clara’s but…
you can almost feel the Blessed Mother’s presence here.” She looked up
at the statue of the Virgin again. “This place reminds me of
Lourdes
. I don’t think that I’ve ever felt such an overwhelming sense of peace
before or ever since visiting
Lourdes
… except for here. It’s not the same but it’s… close.” She
returned her attention to Sam. “Do you live here? I mean… in
Assisi
?”
Sam nodded slightly. “Yes. Well… this time anyway.”
The teenager giggled slightly. “Sounds like you move around a
lot.”
The Leaper chuckled, scratching his temple nervously. “You could
say that, yeah.”
“I’m Angela,” the girl offered her hand.
Sam accepted the hand. “Giovanni.”
“Good to meet you, Giovanni,” Angela told him with a smile. “Do
you mind if I call you John. I mean, it’s the same name, just in English,
not Italian.” She paused sheepishly. “I’m afraid, when it comes to
pronouncing anything in Italian, my words come out sounding like some Martin
Scorsese film. I keep expecting myself to pull out a Tommy gun.”
Sam laughed gently at her words. “Sure. John’s fine.”
Angela breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” She thought for a
moment before looking at Sam, tilting her head slightly. “Umm… you want
to go get a cup of coffee? I have a couple of hours before I have to meet my
friend down at St. Francis’. She’s shopping at the moment and I’m just
not into the tourist money traps like she is. I could use the company at the
moment, though.”
Sam scratched his temple subconsciously. “I don’t know. I mean…
you hardly know me and…”
Angela smiled at him. “I trust you. Don’t know why I do but… I
do. And it’s only a cup of coffee in a very public place. Besides, I came
to
Italy
to broaden my knowledge as well as my faith. I haven’t been doing much of
the former and you’re a local.” Seeing the slightly confused look on
Sam’s face, she clarified. “You know a lot more about this area than I
could possibly know.”
Sam grinned at the persistence of the young lady. “Okay. You
convinced me.” ‘Besides,’ Sam thought to him, ‘I may be here for
her.’
“Great!” Angela told him, standing up and starting out of the
pew, encouraging Sam to do the same. “I saw this café just down the hill
that looked really nice. Let’s go there.”
As she started towards exit at the back, she stopped, turned around,
and genuflected reverently, making the Sign of the Cross, before exiting.
Sam watched the action for a moment, getting a sense of déjà vu at the
sight, before he followed her out of the chapel and towards the café that
she had referred to earlier.
Project
Quantum Leap
Office
of Rear Admiral Albert Calavicci
June
15, 2008
1:28
AM
Al sat on the couch in his office, staring at nothing in particular,
lost in his own thoughts. He didn’t consider himself a violent man and yet
he had just come from the security office after an attempt to kill Duke
Lothoman. Perhaps he was in his right to exact revenge on the man for all
that had happened to Eddie and Christa but he wasn’t sure that all that
happened warranted the man’s death. All Al really knew at that moment was
that if Duke hadn’t spoken – if Al hadn’t seen something in the
man’s eyes – Duke would be dead.
He had seen Sam Beckett in Duke’s eyes. He was absolutely certain
about that. And there was no doubt in his mind that Duke Lothoman had been
there, had not been leaped into by the wayward quantum physicist. The only
thing that plagued him was how. How could he see Sam Beckett’s gentle soul
in the eyes of a man who had caused so much pain in this world? Was it
possible, even by the slightly hint of imagination, that when Sam had leaped
into Duke Lothoman several months before he left a small part of himself
behind? The scientist and military officer in Al told him that it was
impossible for such a thing to happen; his faith in God and in man, however,
was telling him that even the worst criminal in the world could change. Even
a Lothoman. He’d seen it before, especially with Alia Novak. Was it even
possible that Alexander Daniel Lothoman, Jr., was actually a good person
under all of his evil deeds?
Al exhaled slowly before rubbing his face and shaking his head. Maybe
he just needed a good night’s sleep for a change. After all, he hadn’t
slept since five o’clock yesterday morning and then it had only been for a
few short hours. But how could he sleep with all that was running through
his mind?
“Daddy?”
The gentle voice broke through his thoughts, causing him to realize
that he hadn’t heard the knock on the door nor the sound of the door
opening. He raised his eyes to look upon his youngest daughter and gave her
a weak smile.
“Hey, babydoll,” he greeted softly. “What are you doing up so
late?”
Christa Sharpe looked at her father with great concern. Right off the
bat, she could tell that something was wrong. Even with as little sleep as
she knew he had had, he looked far too worn out and he seemed as if he were
on another planet, one that she couldn’t step foot on without being
dragged down herself.
“I could ask you the same thing. Dad, what’s wrong?” she
questioned. “I knocked three times and you didn’t answer, and Ziggy says
that you were in some kind of altercation with Dr. Bremmer.” She looked
down at her father’s hands, which rested between his knees, and saw the
blood on them. Gasping with worry, she took his hands and looked at them
carefully. “Are you okay?”
Seeing the worry on his daughter’s face, his eyes followed hers to
his bloodied hands. He swallowed at the memory of what he had done, shame
flooding in as he realized he had actually stooped to that level.
“I’m fine,” he told her somberly. “It’s…” He hesitated
as he quickly stood and walked towards his private washroom. “It’s not
mine,” he finished quietly as he started the water running.
Christa followed her father carefully, her concern for him increasing
with every passing moment. “What happened?” she asked quietly.
Al didn’t answer for a long moment, washing his hands of the
physical blood but not of the deed he had done. “I… I lost my temper.”
“Must have been one hell of a temper tantrum,” Christa said
softly. “Was it…” She took a breath before she continued, organizing
her thoughts. “Was it Doctor Bremmer?”
A long silence filled the gap between father and daughter as Al
slowly shut off the water and dried his hands on a cotton towel.
“Bremmer isn’t who he appears to be,” Al finally told her.
“He killed your baby,” he finished in a near whisper as he gazed upon
his youngest daughter’s face, gently cupping her cheek to comfort her.
Christa gave a short nod. “I know.” Taking a deep breath, she
straightened herself. “The important thing is that you caught him and he
won’t ever hurt anyone ever again.”
“I suppose,” Al murmured, letting Christa guide him towards the
office door.
Opening the door, Christa looked into her father’s eyes. “I came
by to tell you that I was going home to get some sleep and collect a few
things for Eddie. I suggest that you go home and get some sleep as well.
Besides… it’s your birthday and you deserve a break.” She gave him a
gentle smile. “Go home to Mom. You can worry to your heart’s content
tomorrow.”
Al returned the smile. “Oh, sweetheart,” he told her with a sigh.
“I wish it could be that easy.” He paused. “I’ll tell you what. I
promise that I’ll get some sleep upstairs.”
“But…” Seeing the look on Al’s face, one that told Christa
not to push the subject, she relented. “Okay. But if I find out you lied
to me, I’ll sic Mom on you.”
“Now there’s a threat,” Al commented teasingly, gaining a slap
on the arm from Christa. He kissed her cheek. “G’night, babydoll.”
“Night, Dad,” she returned before she started towards the
elevator.
Al watched Christa step into the elevator before turning to go back
into his office. The visit had been a nice distraction and, for Christa, had
accomplished its mission, namely convincing Al that he did need some sleep.
Walking to the couch, he started to lay down when a familiar feminine voice
filled the room.
“Admiral Calavicci.”
“What, Ziggy?” Al answered, slightly annoyed by the interruption.
“Doctor Beckett has landed,” the parallel-hybrid computer
informed him. “Doctor Beeks has been informed and is going to the Waiting
Room at this moment.”
Well, there goes sleep, Al
thought as he sat up in the couch. “Do you have a fix on him?”
“Affirmative, Admiral,”
Ziggy replied. “Doctor Beckett has leaped into the life of Giovanni Pio
D’Abrosca on August 17, 1985 in
the city of
Assisi
,
Italy
.”
Al frowned slightly, thinking about Ziggy’s words. “Wait a
minute. That sounds familiar.”
“As it should, Admiral. Doctor Beckett has leaped into Mr.
D’Abrosca before. At that time, however, he mysteriously leaped out of Mr.
D’Abrosca and into your younger self.”
Al thought for a long moment before a name snapped into his memory.
“Angela!”
“Indeed, Admiral,” Ziggy confirmed. “Doctor Beckett has resumed
the leap that was previously and mysteriously interrupted. Might I suggest
that you enter the Imaging Chamber post haste? Doctor Beckett appears to
have already made contact with Miss Barrington. However, I have serious
doubts that he remembers what his mission is concerning her.”
Al stood quickly. “Prep the Imaging Chamber. I’ll be there
shortly.”
Assisi
,
Italy
August
17, 1985
5:34
PM CET
Sam sat alone at the café table, looking into his cup of coffee and
wondering what he could be there to do. The longer that he lived in the life
of Giovanni D’Abrosca, the more certain he was that his leap had something
to do with Angela but, for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what
that something was.
Sipping at his coffee, he grimaced slightly. The coffee had grown a
little too cold and was already too strong for his tastes. It reminded him
of his best friend’s coffee which Al had described as “strong enough to
launch the Space Shuttle Enterprise into permanent orbit”.
“Shuttle fuel?” a gravelly voice interrupted Sam’s thoughts,
causing him to jump slightly. He barely was able to put the coffee on the
table before he could cause it to be the newest fashion in men’s shirts.
“Al, don’t startle me like that!”
Sam berated under his breath, as he made sure that the coffee
hadn’t stained his clothes.
“Sorry, Sam,” Al told him, stifling a yawn. “I just noticed the
look on your face and inferred that you weren’t fond of the coffee you
were drinking. You used to call my coffee ‘shuttle fuel’.” He took a
drink from the mug in his hand. “You have to admit it’ll put your aft
burners into overdrive.”
Sam finally got a good look at his friend and partner, frowning with
concern at what he was seeing. “Are you okay, Al? I mean, you look a
little…” He trailed off slightly, not sure how to phrase his words.
“A little what?” Al questioned, an eyebrow raised.
“Well… a little out of sorts. You look like you haven’t slept
in a couple of days,” Sam commented.
Al thought about Sam’s words for a moment before giving him a
nonchalant shrug, trying to change the subject. “It’s been a rough day,
that’s all. Nothing that I can’t take care of.” He looked around at
his surroundings. “So… where’s Angela?”
“She went to the ladies’ room.” Suddenly realizing what Al
asked, Sam looked at the Observer with surprise. “You know of Angela?”
“Of course, I do,” Al told him bluntly. “Angela Barrington, the
person you leaped in to save. You leaped into Giovanni once before to save
her but you were yanked out before you could do anything.”
“Why?” Sam questioned. “I mean… I don’t remember being here
before. At least, I don’t think…” He hesitated for only a moment
before his green eyes brightened. “Wait! I remember something about… ice
cream and… you teaching me Italian.”
“Gelato,” Al corrected.
Sam frowned. “No, I could have sworn it was Italian.”
Al sighed, shaking his head slightly. “Sam, it was gelato, not ice
cream. Gelato is heavier and a hell of a lot better than ice cream. Anyway,
we aren’t here to discuss the culinary delights of Italian desserts.”
“What are we here for, Al?” Sam questioned as he kept an eye out
for Angela.
Al raised the handlink and read the information Ziggy was feeding to
it. “Sometime in the next four hours, Angela is going to disappear off the
face of the earth. When you first leaped into Giovanni, we had practically
nothing to go on about what happened to her. Since then, though, Ziggy’s
been researching the incident. Apparently, she was convinced that you would
eventually wind up here again to save her.”
“Well, thank God she was right,” Sam murmured to himself before
looking at his partner. “What did Ziggy find out?”
Al paused, surprise tingeing his expression. “She staged it.”
“What?” Sam’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“Angela staged her own disappearance,” Al clarified. “According
to Ziggy, there had been some serious problems going on at home for Angela.
Her father Richard Barrington died in a car accident when Angela was twelve
years old and her mother Patricia couldn’t bear the loss. Patricia turned
to alcohol to drown her sorrows. Turned out she was a mean drunk too. Ziggy
found several police reports of domestic disturbances at their house, mostly
fights between Patricia and Angela over Angela’s staying out late. And
half of those fights resulted in Angela getting a few nasty bruises.”
Sam shook his head. “I can’t understand any mother doing that to
her own child.”
“Me neither,” Al agreed. “On the plus side for Angela, she did
really well in school and financially. Apparently her father had a life
insurance policy in her name, which paid for this Italian pilgrimage she’s
on. But before she left, she sold everything she owned except what is up in
her hotel room at this very moment.”
“She has nothing to return home for,” Sam concluded.
Al nodded. “Exactly. She planned this, Sam. She was just trying to
find the right time to pull her disappearing act. And once she pulled it,
she blended into the Italian sunset, never to be heard from again. At least,
not as Angela Barrington.”
“What about her friend?” Sam queried. “She mentioned meeting
her friend at St. Francis’ later today. She sounded pretty close to her
too.” He shook his head. “I can’t see why she’d just up and
disappear on purpose, not with having a friend that close.”
Al raised the handlink, requesting the needed information from Ziggy.
“That would be… Eliza Montgomery. She and Angela have been friends since
grade school.” He frowned slightly. “And it looks like she may have
actually helped Angela to disappear.” He raised his eyebrows a fraction.
“When you think about it, it makes complete sense.”
Sam frowned. “How?”
Al gazed into his friend’s eyes. “They’re teenaged girls, Sam.
And sometimes teenagers don’t think with a clear head, especially when
they’re really close to each other. I can’t even count the number of
times Liz and Vickie got into trouble together. They lied for each other all
the time. Now, you take that kind of sorority and add an abusive parent.
Anything is possible with that, even deliberately staging a disappearance so
that one of you could be free.”
Sam shook his head. “I have a hard time believing that anyone would
allow their friend to do something as stupid as that.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time, Sam. And it certainly isn’t the
worst thing that ever happened under similar situations,” Al told him.
“There’s even a case where two teenager girls murdered one of the
girls’ mothers simply because they didn’t want to be separated from each
other. So, if you ask me, planning a disappearance is the lesser of the
evils.”
“I suppose,” Sam agreed. “But it sounds to me that getting
Angela away from her mother was a good thing.”
“Well…” Al hesitated. “In a way it was. But in another way it
wasn’t. When Patricia found out that Angela had disappeared in
Italy
without a trace, she blamed herself and, after a couple of anxious years of
waiting and hoping to hear something about Angela, she committed suicide.
Hung herself with a pair of pantyhose.”
“So, I have to convince Angela that she needs to go home and work
things out with her mother rather than running away from her,” Sam
surmised.
Al nodded. “That about describes it.”
Sam sighed. “Great,” he muttered. Raising his eyes, he noticed
Angela was returning to the table. “How do I do that?”
“Don’t worry. You’ll think of something,” Al told him before
giving a big yawn. “After this, I better try to get some sleep or
Christa’s going to make good on her threat.” Seeing Sam’s raised
eyebrows, Al clarified, “She threatened to sic Beth on me.”
Sam gave a soft chuckle at Al’s comment just as Angela came to the
table.
PART
THREE
Project
Quantum Leap
Office
of Chief Daniel Fulton
June
15, 2008
1:32
AM
Duke Lothoman dabbed at the
blood that tainted his mouth, huffing at how it didn’t seem to want to
coagulate despite his best efforts. Now that the Admiral was away, he found
himself thinking more clearly once again. How could he have pleaded with
that bastard before? And where did the Admiral’s stunned comment come
from?
Any further mental
inquiries into the enigma fled his mind as he noticed Nurse Melissa
Henderson walked into the room, a medical tray in her hand. Duke’s face
broke into a slight grin as he watched her place the tray on the desk. His
staring at her had an obvious effect, causing the nurse to turn towards him
and slap him hard across the face.
“What the hell?!” Duke
cried out.
“I’m here to nurse that
shiner,” Melissa told him with a growl. “Not to be ogled by you, you
bastard.” Snatching the washcloth that lay on the tray, she quickly
dampened it and proceeded to roughly clean Duke’s face.
“Hold it! Wait a
minute!” Duke protested at the brutality of her ministrations. “What
happened to your bedside manner, Melissa?”
She slapped the washcloth
on the tray. “You have no right to even speak to me about bedside manners,
Duke Lothoman! She grabbed the antibiotic ointment and practically ripped
the cap off, huffing a self-derogatory laugh. “And to think that I thought
maybe… MAYBE… you might have changed!” She huffed to herself. “I
should have known better! You’ve always been a coldhearted son of a bitch;
you always WILL be a coldhearted son of a bitch!”
Duke’s eyes widened as
the person he had had a working relationship for the past few months spouted
out a tirade of seeming nonsense, trying to get a grasp of what she was
talking about. Even as he did so, the pieces fell into place like dominoes.
“Tanya?” he whispered.
His eyes admired the woman in front of him. “Wow! You look… amazing!”
Melissa Henderson, formerly
known as Tanya Primrose, former Head of Project Alexander’s BioTech
section, gave Duke Lothoman, former lover, a hard glare. “Do you want me
to put ointment on your wounds or what? Personally, I’d rather see you get
an infection in each little cut the Admiral gave you with his ring.”
Duke leaned back in the
chair. “I don’t think that would be a good idea, Tanya.”
“My name is Nurse
Henderson to you, Doctor Bremmer,” she emphasized. Taking a step
towards him, she proceeded to run antibiotic into the cuts on Duke’s face.
Duke winced slightly at her
actions. “I think after all we’ve been through, I have the right to call
you by your real name.” The closeness of her and the way she reacted when
angry brought fond memories to him. “You never could hold your temper
well. It’s what made me love you.”
She pulled away abruptly at
his words. “Love?!”
“Yes,” he told her
bluntly, slowly standing to put his face into hers. “Even after all these
years, I never stopped loving you. We were meant for each other, Tanya. You
can’t deny it.”
Melissa gazed into Duke’s
eyes, hatred filling them. “Any chances of me ever loving you blew away
with the New Mexican winds the minute you tortured that sweet child Christa.
To think that even you would cause a first-time mother to lose her child…
And then you go after her husband?!” She pushed him hard, causing him to
slump back into the chair he’d previously occupied. “You sicken me! I
hate you!” Gathering the medical tray, she turned one more time towards
him. “If you ever come near the Admiral, his family, or ANY of his
friends, you’ll have to answer to me! And you just remember why your
brother hired me in the first place. I may have had compunctions against
harming the innocent but I have NO compunctions about punishing the
guilty.” Turning again, she marched out of the office, passing the guard
on duty without a word.
Duke grinned slightly at her as she left. “Oh, yes. I’m most
definitely still in love with you, Melissa Henderson… even if you
don’t reciprocate.”
Assisi
,
Italy
August
17, 1985
5:41
PM CET
“Sorry
about that, John,” Angela said to Sam as she plopped down into her seat.
Picking up her coffee, she took a taste of it and grimaced slightly. “I
think we may need a warm up.”
Sam
looked carefully at the young woman in front of her. How was he going to
convince her to return home and make amends with her only parent, especially
with his being a stranger to her? For that matter, why, of all places on
Earth, did Angela choose
Italy
to get herself lost in?
“Angela,”
Sam spoke up as Angela waved a server to their table. “Why are you
here?”
The
teenager frowned in confusion. “Excuse me?”
“Why
are you here?” Sam repeated. “In
Italy
.”
“Good
question,” Al commented with a nod. “Why are you here, honey?”
Angela
blinked for a moment. “I told you. I’m on a pilgrimage with my
church’s youth group. Besides, any chance to get away from that Wicked
Witch of the West who calls herself my mother…”
“You’re
not going to go back home,” Sam interrupted.
The
statement silenced Angela, surprise clear on her face. “How did you know
that?”
Sam
leaned forward in his chair, looking into the girl’s eyes. “I can see it
in your eyes. You’re not going back but you should.”
Angela
rolled her eyes. “Oh, sure. Go back to a monster in a skirt who only cares
about herself.”
“She’s
got a point, Sam,” Al said with a slight nod of agreement.
Sam
gave the Observer a glare. “I seriously doubt that,” Sam commented to
both Angela and Al.
“You
don’t know her!” Angela emphasized. “I’ve tried! I’ve tried so
hard to get her to stop drinking, to make her understand me! And what did I
get? A broken arm, more cuts than a piece of prime rib, and bruises
resembling the Aurora Borealis! She’s a monster! And I’m never going
back to her!” Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she shook her head.
“Besides, this is where I belong.” She looked around with admiration in
her eyes. “Just to the south is
Rome
, the seat of the Holy Father himself.” Giving Sam a smile, she spoke with
passion. “I need to follow my heart and my heart is calling me to do His
work. I have never felt this impassioned about anything before, not until I
started this pilgrimage.
Lourdes
,
Assisi
,
Rome
… they’re all calling to me. That’s why I have to stay here. I want to
become a Poor Clare and help the helpless.”
“And
what about your mother?” Sam asked.
“What
about her?” Angela countered. “She doesn’t care if I live or die.”
Sam
shook his head. “That isn’t true. She loves you.”
Angela
gave him a glare. “People who love you don’t beat the hell out of
you.”
Al
winced slightly at her words. “Sam, if this is your idea of saving
Angela’s life, I think we need a better plan.”
Sam
didn’t know how to respond to that. While he knew that Angela’s mother
did care about her daughter, he also knew that there was little that he
could say to convince her otherwise. Sighing, he looked up and was struck by
the sight of the Basilica of St. Francis, its white stones reflecting the
sunlight as if telling Sam the way to convince the girl. At that same
moment, he remembered a prayer that Al had always claimed as his favorite.
Looking towards Angela, he started reciting the prayer.
“Lord,
make me an instrument of Your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.
O, Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.”
Angela stared at Sam for a
long moment, stunned before speaking. “I love that prayer.”
“Me
too,” Al agreed. “It’s beautiful but…”
“But
you don’t seem to mean it when you say it if you are willing to abandon
your mother when she needs you the most,” Sam said softly, interrupting
Al. “Did it occur to you that she’s the one that needs your love, your
pardon, your faith? She’s the one who needs light and joy, who needs
someone to console her, understand her… love her.” Seeing the pain and
fear in the girl’s eyes, he reached out slowly and touched her arm. “If
your mother doesn’t know where you are and what has happened to you,
don’t you think that that would be too much for her? She’s already lost
her husband and she’s lost her ability to cope with loss. What do you
think she’ll do if she thought she’d lost her daughter… her only
daughter?”
“I…”
Angela started. “I never said I was an only child.” She looked at him
with a mixture of wonder and fear. “How… how did you know?”
“And
I didn’t tell you she was an only child,” Al exclaimed with wide eyes.
Seeing the look on Sam’s face, he realized, “Right. Logical deduction
based on what I did tell you. Should have figured that out.”
Sam
gave Angela a gentle smile, ignoring Al’s comments. “Let’s just say
that the Lord works in mysterious ways. Besides…” his grin broadened.
“I can’t say I could stay away from my best friend for the rest of my
life. And that’s what it would be, Angela. If you stay here, in
Italy
, you will never see anyone you care about ever again. Can you really do
that?”
“But…”
she started, torn between what Sam was telling her and what her heart was
pulling her toward. “I… I can’t return to that house. You have no
idea…”
“Then
don’t,” Sam told her.
“But…
you just said…” Angela and Al invoked simultaneously.
“I
told you that you should go home, not that you had to go home to your
mother,” he clarified for her. “There are people who need help there
just as much as they need help here. Isn’t your mother the one person you
know with absolute certainty needs help?”
“I…”
Angela started before slowly exhaling. Standing up quickly, she swallowed,
straightening her blouse. “I have to go.”
As
she started passed, Sam took hold of her hand, stopping her in her tracks.
“Don’t abandon those who need you the most, Angela.”
Angela looked at the hand that held her in place. “Please… let me
go,” she whispered.
“You can’t run away from your past,” Sam warned her.
Raising her eyes to Sam’s, she swallowed. “I’m not,” she said
plainly.
“Yes, she is,” Al corrected.
“Yes… you are,” Sam repeated. Very gently, he pulled her back,
encouraging her to sit again. “You said you wanted to be a Poor Clare,
right?”
“Right,” Al nodded enthusiastically.
“Yeah,” Angela murmured, unsure where this conversation was
going.
“Well… don’t they have convents where you come from?” Sam
pointed out. He leaned forward to gaze into her eyes. “Even people in your
country need help. You don’t have to be near
Rome
to be close to God.”
Al grinned with appreciation. “Oh, that was a good one, Sam.
Definitely going to have to remember that one.”
“But…” Angela started before sighing. “I have never felt
this… energized! I want to help people. I want…” She stopped, biting
her lower lip as she found herself emotionally overwhelmed. “I love her!
Why… why doesn’t she love me?”
Al lowered his head slightly at her desperate cry.
Sam hesitated, thinking about her question. “She does,” he
finally told her. “I think… I think she’s just lost right now. And she
needs you to find her and bring her back home.”
Angela wiped a couple of tears away before giving a sad laugh. “I
guess this is that turn the other cheek thing,” she stated. Sniffling, she
swallowed tightly before nodding. “You’re right. I am running away. I…
I guess I went a little too far, huh?”
Sam smiled at her words. “
Italy
is a bit far.”
“Yeah,” Angela agreed. Slowly standing up, she smoothed her
blouse. “I think maybe before I decide what to do with my life, I should
let God decide what to do with it. You know… talk to our pilgrimage
chaplain, see what he says.” She took a deep breath. “I won’t go back
to my mother’s house, but at least I can go home.”
Sam stood, gently taking her hands. “I’m glad,” he told her
proudly.
A long silence passed between the two of them before Sam released
Angela’s hands and watched as she started back up the hill towards the
Basilica of St. Francis.
Al’s grin couldn’t have been wider as he checked the handlink.
“You did it, Sam. She continues with the rest of the pilgrimage and
decides to go back to the States. Changes her mind about being a Poor Clare,
though. Instead, she marries a lay missionary and the two of them started a
homeless shelter right in her hometown. As for her mother…” Al shook his
head. “Well, she did get some treatment for alcoholism but she was in and
out of clinics for the rest of her life. Died of liver failure in 1992.”
Even as Al spoke, the two men saw Angela turn around and start back
down the hill. She stopped within earshot and called down.
“You know, it’s funny. Here I was praying for guidance to the
Blessed Mother and you just showed up in the church beside me. You’re
right. The Lord does work in mysterious ways!”
Sam raised his eyebrows and turned his head towards Al, who just
rocked in the balls of his feet. “Amen to that, my friend,” he
commented, giving Sam a wave as the physicist vanished in a streak of blue
lightning.
Home of Edward and Christa Sharpe
Stallion Springs
,
New Mexico
June 16, 2008
8:09 pm
Ed slowly leaned forward, trying to sit up but the pain that
gripped at his entire being refused to let him perform even the simplest of
tasks. Softly grunting in discomfort, he adjusted the pillow behind his
head, pushing his body up as he leaned back, teeth gritted.
“That’s much better,” he said to his wife with a genuine smile
as he exhaled slowly.
“How are you feeling?” Christa asked as she gently held Ed’s
hand in hers. “Have those headaches gone away?”
Ed licked his dried, cracked lips and then said, “The headaches are
gone but I still feel like shit; my back feels like it’s on fire, my arms
feel all tingly, like they’re asleep or something, and the rest of me
feels like I’ve been run over by a Mac truck and then drug bare assed
naked over barbed wire.”
“It won’t be like this forever. I’m just real glad that
you’re back home and you’re safe.” Christa tearfully smiled as she
reached out and brushed a few strands of hair off of his dampened forehead.
“Everything’s under control now.”
Ed
asked, “Did they catch the son of a bitch that caused all this?”
Christa nodded. “It was one of the doctors working with
Aurora
. Roy Bremmer, although my dad says that it was just an alias that he
used.”
“What is his real name?”
Christa shrugged her shoulders as she replied. “Don’t know, he
didn’t tell me.”
Ed slowly exhaled as he closed his eyes. “I can still see his
face,” he said after a moment as he opened his eyes. Staring at the
ceiling, he said, “I can even remember his name. Vaughn. He and that
insane doctor killed our daughter and nearly me.” Ed swallowed as he
turned his head slightly so that he was facing Christa. For a moment, he
simply gazed into her eyes, as if he were trying to remember something. And
then, his eyes widened in shock as they heavily watered.
“Eddie? What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I remember him b-being with you. You and him…together…”
Christa slowly brought a hand over her mouth. “I swear…I didn’t
know…I-I thought he was you.”
Ed’s eyes then fell on her stomach as she quietly wept.
Just
as Ed was about to step through the door, Joe called to him. When Ed looked
over at him he said with a grin, “Oh, I almost forgot to congratulate
you.”
Ed furrowed his brow as he tilted his head. “Congratulate me on
what?” When he saw a certain gleam in Joe’s eye, the way he stood there
grinning at him, it didn’t take Ed long to figure out what Joe exactly
meant. “A-are you saying-” Before he could finish talking, Joe stepped
forward.
For Ed, the entire situation was rather surreal; however knowing that
Vaughn had been intimate with Christa infuriated him to no end. On the one
hand, knowing that Christa was again pregnant had been the best news he’d
heard in quite a while. It was their second chance at having their family.
Then again, his recollection of the past week was rather hazy, and he had no
idea just exactly how long Vaughn had been living his life. “We’ll get
through this,” he said to Christa.
Christa nodded in
agreement. “Together. As always.”
PART
FOUR
Project
Quantum Leap
June
15, 2008
3:16
AM
Al walked into the security office for the second time that day. It
had been one hell of a day too. With all the ups and downs, he wasn’t sure
if he could handle much more of the roller coaster ride he was on. He still
hadn’t had sleep in almost forty-eight hours but he looked like he
hadn’t slept in a whole week. Nevertheless, his current physical
appearance aside, he could still be a foreboding figure to anyone who got in
his way. And Duke Lothoman had most definitely got in his way, the evidence
of that still showing on his wounded face.
“Admiral,” Duke greeted monotonously as Al looked upon him.
“You look like hell.” A slight smirk covered his face as he looked upon
own of his younger brother’s nemeses.
Al pushed his hands into his trouser pockets, ignoring Duke’s
goading. “I’ve made a decision concerning you,” he told him bluntly.
“Oh, really? I have to hear this,” Duke commented, leaning back
in the chair he occupied, his hands once again handcuffed together.
The Admiral looked into Duke’s eyes, knowing what he would see
there, just under the surface. He knew there was a miniscule sliver of
Sam’s soul in those eyes, enough to influence Duke Lothoman’s actions in
the future. Perhaps… just perhaps… the older brother of Nathaniel
Lothoman really could be saved.
“I should kill you right here and now for all that you have
done,” the seasoned Navy retiree proclaimed. “But there is a difference
between you and me, Lothoman, despite what you may think. And that
difference is compassion. I’m not going to kill you.”
“Then you are a coward, Admiral,” Duke announced with confidence.
“What I am going to do,” Al continued, again ignoring the
latter’s attempts to rattle him, “is lock you up in the deepest,
darkest, dingiest place I can find and leave you there alone for the rest of
your life. And maybe… MAYBE… if you are really good… you might see the
Sun before you die of old age.” He noticed the look in Duke’s eyes and
took a step towards him, knowing that the man before him was afraid of the
possibility of never seeing the Sun again. “I know there is some of Sam
Beckett in you, Lothoman, and I know that you can turn your life around if
you really want to. But until you can prove it to me that you honestly do
want to reform, which I doubt your pride will let you do, I’m going to
make sure you never hurt anyone ever again.”
The Admiral and the Doctor looked deeply into each other’s eyes,
each one gauging the other’s souls. Finally, it was Duke who broke his
gaze, swallowing slightly as he did so.
“Well… I stand corrected, Admiral,” he said in a low tone.
“You’re not a coward. You’re a sadist. To sentence a man to loneliness
for the rest of his life… you’re condemning me to a fate worse than
death.”
Al shook his head, negating the latter’s statement. “Believe me,
there are worst things than being alone.”
“Not much worse, I would imagine,” Duke replied.
The room was quiet for a long moment before Al started for the door.
“Admiral,” Duke interrupted his actions, causing the veteran to
turn to face him. “My brother is dead. And now I don’t even have my
freedom. And I have you and Beckett to thank for that. If I ever see you
again… I will kill you. That’s a promise.”
Al shook his head slightly. “I don’t think you will, Lothoman,
even if you do see me again.” He paused for only a moment, letting his
prisoner consider his words. “You’ll be transferred late tonight to the
secure facility under guard.” Without another word, he left the security
office, leaving the evils of Duke Lothoman with the prisoner.
Just maybe this would turn out to be a good birthday after all.
I-70,
Between Socorro and Albuquerque
June
15, 2008
4:08
am
The SUV sped down the desolate stretch of highway in the
New Mexico
desert. The evening sky was speckled with stars, the moon high and full.
Somewhere off in the distance a lone wolf howled, however the call had
fallen upon deaf ears. Other than that the landscape was pretty much
blanketed in dense black. The prisoner, Alexander Lothoman, sat in the
backseat and stared out the tinted window, his expression difficult to read.
His hands were bound together by tight fitting handcuffs and fastened to his
ankles were shackles. Of course he still sported the shiner on his left eye;
just one of Admiral Calavicci’s parting gifts. Despite being caught he had
succeeded in his mission. His brother, Nate, would no doubt have been proud
of him. Nate. Now there was another tricky aspect. For starters, Nate was
dead, had been for about eight years now. Now this mechanical construct that
went by Lothos may have come from Nate, but what it had all boiled down to
was the simple face that it wasn’t Nate. Whatever may have been left of
his kid brother was gone, destroyed by Beckett.
A slight frown formed on
his face as he saw the vehicle speed past the exit that they were supposed
to take. “Hey, pal, watch the damn road, will ya?” Tilting back his head
he added, “You missed the exit.” The driver, a young man in either his
late twenties or early thirties, said nothing. “Where are we going?”
No reply.
“God damn it, answer
me!” Alexander, also known as Duke, grew tense. After several moments
passed in silence, Duke was well beyond pissed. One thing was damn certain
and that was nobody ignored Duke Lothoman. Nobody. “Listen, junior, if you
don’t answer me--”
“Enough,” replied the
driver coolly. He reached out and adjusted the rear view mirror, keeping one
eye on the prisoner. Even though he didn’t let it show the old man
unnerved the hell out of him. “Just sit back, relax, and enjoy the
ride.”
“What is going on
here?” Duke asked again.
“I’m not at liberty to
answer your questions.”
“Like hell you’re not.
I know enough to figure out that you’re not working for Calavicci or
anybody else at Quantum Leap. Now, what I don’t know is who you are
working for.”
Once more no reply came
from the driver.
“Great.” Duke leaned
back in his seat and closed his eyes.
About another hour and a
half had passed before the driver slowed the SUV and pulled off of the road
and onto the shoulder. He calmly unbuckled his seat belt, opened the door,
and stepped out. Duke’s eyes never left the driver as he walked over and
opened the side door and leaned his upper body in. Duke pressed his back
against the seat as the driver slipped a hand into his coat pocket and
produced a small silver key. He started to unlock Duke’s handcuffs and,
when the cuffs clattered to the floor, he knelt down and started unlocking
his ankle shackles.
“What’s this?” Duke
questioned as the driver removed the shackles.
The driver didn’t respond
until Duke had stepped out. He then gestured towards the SUV. “Go on.
Don’t be late.”
If he wasn’t before, he
was now completely at a loss. “Late? Late for what? Just what the hell is
going on here?”
“Don’t ask, just do as
your instructed, Lothoman.” The driver stepped past the befuddled
prisoner, walking down the lonely highway. “Just stay on the 70,” he
called out over his shoulder.
“Hey.” Duke took a half
step towards the younger man. The younger man just kept walking. Quickly
sweeping his gaze across the blackened and barren desert he turned around
and slammed the side door shut. He sat down in the driver seat, shutting the
door and putting on his seat belt. He took a moment to try and wrap his mind
around what had just happened. One moment he was on his way to the state
prison and the next he was set free, his escort vanishing into the night
like some ghost. “Stay on the 70, huh?” Duke pulled on the column shift,
the small orange needle stopping just over the D. He steered the SUV back
onto the highway, the vehicle quickly climbing in speed. At this point he
could only pray that the highway patrol weren’t out.
About ten minutes into the
drive, Duke saw two small circles of light appear around the turn in the
road, which was about a quarter mile ahead of him. Appearing around the turn
was an eighteen wheeler. As the two vehicles grew closer to each other a
physical change came over Duke. His entire person was engulfed in red light,
thin streaks of light shooting outward. Then, in the blink of an eye,
another person sat behind the wheel. This person was considerably younger,
with wavy red hair, brown eyes, and of medium build. He adjusted the rear
view mirror and smirked when he saw Duke’s eyes stare back at him. About
another ten seconds passed when the Leaper suddenly jerked the wheel to the
left, sending the SUV darting across the highway.
The driver of the
Freightliner, who was heavily impaired as it was, hadn’t had much rest in
the past seventy two hours. His reddened eyes would slowly close only to
flash open seconds later. After the fourth time doing so, his eyes flashed
open onto a sleek red SUV barreling straight towards him. “Shit!” the
driver yelled as he instinctively slammed on the brakes. However by doing
so, he locked up the wheels, his trailer jackknifing wildly, and within
moments the SUV connected with the Freightliner. Needless to say, the
Freightliner barely took any damage while the SUV was beyond totaled. Upon
impact the front end of the SUV crumpled and spun off the highway, sending
up heavy clouds of dust as it flipped over on to its side. The heart
stopping sounds of glass shattering and the rending of metal filled the
otherwise quiet desert. Fragments of metal, glass, and plastic flew from the
SUV, littering the desert floor in a chaotic mess.
The driver of the
Freightliner emerged from the truck and ran over to the totaled SUV. He was
about fifty feet away when the upturned SUV suddenly burst into flame; the
desert briefly bathed in a pale orange glow as acrid smoke billowed from the
wreck. The faint aroma of gasoline hung in the air, intermingled with the
smoke. “Damn,” the driver breathed in utter disbelief as he stood there,
watching the fire consume the remains of the SUV.
Project
Alexander –
British Isles
Sometime
in the Year 2021
Although his mind was full of holes he knew where he had been
taken to. More importantly, he knew who had brought him there. He stood in
the vast red room that provided nothing but a slender examining table with a
reflective surface. It reminded him strongly of the Waiting Room back at
Quantum Leap. Slowly he went over to the table and leaned over it, getting a
good look at the face that stared back at him. He didn’t recognize the red
haired man in the mirror but something that he hadn’t anticipated
occurred. After about a moment or two of looking at his reflection the image
began to warp and shimmer, sort of like light reflecting off of rippling
water. He didn’t feel anything physical but after the extraordinary
occurrence Duke was left staring at his own face. He pushed himself back
from the table, wildly looking around the room. “Show yourself!” he
barked. “I know you’re watching this!” Just then the heavy hydraulic
door slid upward, and with it came light just bright enough to cause Duke to
squint.
“Lothos wishes to speak
to you,” said one of the two tall men that stood in the doorway.
Duke said nothing as he
crossed the Holding Chamber and followed the two men down a featureless
corridor and into an elevator. The elevator’s door slid open onto another
room that was nearly identical to the Control Room at Quantum Leap. In the
center of the sterile room was a control console. The room itself really
didn’t have any other features to offer, well if you didn’t count the
glowing, swirling red orb that was suspended above the control console. Duke
glanced around and saw only four others present, one in particular striking
a familiar cord with Duke. The young brown haired man, clad in a leather
jacket, smirked at him. It was that very smirk that gave Duke his identity.
“Vaughn Rickar,” Duke
said with a slightly amused look on his face.
“Doctor Lothoman,”
Vaughn replied evenly as he leaned against the control console.
Duke didn’t bother to ask
who anybody else was as his attention turned to the red orb. “Long time,
no see, little brother.” As soon as he spoke the word ‘brother’ he
noticed for the first time the bitterness that it had left in his mouth,
which had surprised the hell out of him. While he knew that this artificial
construct was in fact not his kid brother, he knew that some part of Nate
was left behind in Lothos. It was that part that Duke hoped to reach.
“The one you knew as
Nathaniel Lothoman,” spoke the quasi-living hybrid computer in a tone that
vaguely sounded like Nate’s, “is dead, and has been for years. I’m now
in his stead. You shall address me as Lothos.”
While he knew that most of
the others that worked for him cowered before him, Duke barely seem phased.
While things may have changed significantly over the years, some things just
remained the same. “Fine, have it your way…Lothos.” Duke tugged at the
collar of the skin tight black body suit with a frown. “Couldn’t you
have brought me here in something a bit more comfortable?”
“Adequate attire shall be
given to you momentarily. For now, I must discuss something with you of
utmost importance.” Unbeknownst to everyone in Central Control, two
discreetly placed cameras focused on Project Alexander’s current guest.
“I wish to speak to Doctor Lothoman alone,” Lothos told the others.
“Leave us at once.”
“Of course, my lord,”
replied one of the men who had escorted Duke out of the Holding Chamber.
Vaughn said nothing as he
pushed himself up and walked past Duke. It was at that brief moment that
Duke noticed something familiar in the young man’s eyes. It was the
intensity, no doubt, but yet he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. It
was almost as if that one moment had slowed significantly.
Lothos didn’t speak a
word until everyone had left the room. “There is a certain matter that I
need to speak to you about,” he told Duke. “You failed to kill Ensign
Edward Sharpe. You allowed him to live; you had the perfect opportunity and
you let it slip through your fingers.”
“Bullshit,” Duke
replied deadpan, trying his best to keep his anger at bay. “How the hell
was I supposed to know the kid would suddenly awake from a coma? I checked
his vitals; he was just as good as dead. Nearly all brain activity had
ceased.” Duke ran a hand over his head as he briefly looked away. “The
Admiral was out for blood, okay? Ever since they discovered Vaughn they
upped Quantum Leap’s security. That’s why I stopped producing batches of
the toxin.”
One of Lothos’s cameras
had zoomed in on Duke’s face. The part of Lothos that was still Nathaniel
felt the brotherly bond that had been forged ever since Duke had murdered
his own father in cold blood back when Nathaniel was a child. Nathaniel had
always respected Duke to a high degree but the brothers also knew their
place; there was always a line that was never to be crossed. Lothos felt
that exact same respect for Duke, although his failure spoke just as loudly.
“Granted, Admiral Calavicci made things difficult for you, Doctor, but I
requested your services because Nathaniel trusted you impeccably. He was
confident enough in your abilities but you have truly yet to show me—”
Duke stepped forward and
pointed a finger at the orb. “Hold it right there, alright? I did what you
initially instructed me to do; I struck at Calavicci where it’d hurt him
the most. I murdered his goddamn grandchild and poisoned his daughter. I had
Beckett’s Project running around in circles while I had your little helper
monkey, Vaughn, pump Christa Sharpe full of that toxin. Without me, Lothos,
your Leapers wouldn’t have gotten nearly as far and you know that.”
Lothos was silent for a
moment. “That is true,” he reluctantly replied, “to a degree. On the
one hand, you were rather instrumental in the attack against Calavicci and
his family. However, you failed to kill Ensign Sharpe and got captured by
the Admiral himself. Perhaps,” Lothos added, “I expected too much from
you. Maybe your age is catching up to you.”
“Screw you,” Duke spat.
No sooner had Duke cursed Lothos did a brief but strong electrical shock
drop the elder Lothoman to the floor.
The part of Lothos that was
Nathaniel had felt a twinge of remorse for striking at Duke, but, like all
others, he would learn very quickly to speak out against him. “Let that be
a warning to you.” The computer watched as Duke slowly stood back on his
feet.
“Y-Yeah?” Duke
sputtered just before breaking out into a brief fit of coughing. “Well I
got one for you; don’t ever pull that shit on me again. You may have
complete control of this place,” he told Lothos, “but you’re
forgetting just who the hell created you. I know my brother and he would
never have been as stupid as to stand against me. For years I watched over
him, protected him against those who opposed him. He may have been the
genius of the family but it was I who practically raised him.” By this
point the rage was coursing through his veins white hot. The longer he felt
the rage, the more he came to understand that perhaps a large portion of it
had been directed at Nathaniel himself. For years, Duke willingly sacrificed
what little he had in order to help Nathaniel succeed. And now, this
artificial construct, a mere shadow of Nathaniel’s former self, was trying
to seize control over him. “You listen to me, Lothos. I know that
there’s still a small part of Nate in there; he knows what I’m truly
capable of.”
“Yes,” Lothos said not
a moment later, “I do know what you’re truly capable of, Alexander. That
is why I brought you here; you’re services are still needed. Granted,”
the computer added, “you shall be monitored at all times like the others,
but if you play your cards right, I just might grant you special
privileges.”
Duke had heard enough.
“You can take that concept and shove it straight up that electronic ass of
yours. No way in hell am I going to let you turn me into one of those
drones.”
“You
really don’t have much of a choice in the matter. You see, not only had
your true identity been revealed but according to the outside world,
Alexander Lothoman died in a fiery automobile accident twelve years ago. You
have nowhere else to go.”
Duke took a step back, his
eyes falling from the orb. “There’s no way that Nathaniel would have let
it get this far out of hand. There’s no way,” he said with such sudden
intensity as he looked back up at the orb, “that Nathaniel would try this
dictator shit on me. He trusted me and I trusted him…for the most part.”
Duke felt as if he were somewhat getting through to Lothos but he also knew
that he had to watch his step. Lothos had complete control of this Project.
“There was always a fine line,” he explained to the computer, “and
both Nate and I knew to never cross that line. I was there for him whenever
I was needed, and in turn I knew that what I was doing would only benefit
Nate. He had so much potential; he was the one who would make the name
Lothoman really mean something.”
If Lothos could smile he no
doubt would have been at that point. “Indeed, Nathaniel did make the name
Lothoman mean something. Just look at what all he’s accomplished.”
Duke knew that Lothos was
right; he had nowhere else to go. Even though to the outside world he was
dead, he knew that otherwise he’d be a wanted man for the remainder of his
years. No place would be safe. After nearly thirty years of leading his own
life, he was right back where he’d started. He had come full circle. But,
this time around, things were different. A lot different. Not only was his
kid brother gone but in his place was a machine, a construct, a construct
that ruled supreme over anything and everything in this complex. And, no
matter how hard he fought it, no matter how hard he resisted, Duke knew that
he had now become the property of this construct. And maybe, just maybe,
that was a fate worse than death.
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