The senator was skeptical. It sounded too appealing. He didn't see any hitches in the general's plan. But something seemed wrong. The plan appeared too good, and it was out of character for Kurt to be offering it. He wasn't that altruistic. Radcliff decided to probe farther.
"What's in it for you, Kurt?"
Lassiter sat back in his chair once again and got that same pompous smile on his face that he had during the committee meeting.
Radcliff wanted to wipe it off his face with his fist. This military man was just becoming too self-confident, too cocky for his liking.
Kurt answered, still smiling, "what's in it for me is easy. In either case, whether the deprogramming is successful or not, you must back me in the next Senatorial election, and when I'm elected, which I will be, you must give up your spot on the House Armed Services committee. Those are my terms."
"And if I don't agree, what then?" Radcliff's voice was harsh as he spoke. He didn't like being told what to do by anybody.
"I won't release the intercepts message containing the details of the security surrounding Kamarov's visit to the people who can stop him. Kamarov will be taken on his tour as the State Department planned and a missile will be launched. Who knows what will happen after that."
Radcliff's mouth was agape. He couldn't believe what he was being told. If Kamarov launched the missile it could start World War III.
"You'd let thousands of innocent people die---let our great nation
be blackmailed just to fulfill your political ambitions?"
"I would!" Lassiter answered without hesitation.
"How do I know you're telling the truth?" Radcliff asked, his mouth still partially agape.
"You don't and there isn't any way you can find out before Kamarov arrives. And you can't risk the consequences if I am lying, which I am not.
He then got up quickly and moved toward the door. "I'll expect an answer in twenty-four hours!" He said and then added, "and don't think you can stop me. If you don't back me up in this, or if you try anything stupid, I'll disclose your liaison with Ms. Hunt to the Senate ethics committee, to the press and to your wife. I’m sure all three would have a field day with the information that I've been able to gather on you in the past three years. Now, good day!" With that, he slammed the door abruptly and left.
Radcliff sat back in his chair, puzzled at what he should do next. The general was right. There would be no way he could hope to find out the validity of the message or whether or not there was such a message in that short a period of time. The inner workings of the government were so convoluted and complex, as demonstrated by the Oliver North scandal, even a senator would have to spend a minimum of sixty days to get to the right person to find out something that would be as sensitive as that message would be, if it existed at all.
He was over a barrel. But he had to try something! He couldn't just sit still passively after what he had heard. It sickened him when he thought of a man such as Kurt Lassiter holding any office at all in the government. He had to try to stop him and put an end to his lunacy. If he could find out if the message were real and if he could learn Kamarov's schedules and the details regarding the security of his visit, he could arrange to have Kamarov eliminated himself. He couldn't risk letting Lassiter kidnap him and then sending him to Camp Arthur. No telling what he might do with the Soviet. He could possibly set himself up as a dictator with Kamarov under his control. And by the way he was talking, nothing seemed too infeasible for him to try.
The general was a megalomaniac and not to be trusted. He had to be stopped, no matter what the risk. No, the only answer was to put a tail on the general and hope by following him he could determine if the general was lying or not. If the tail produced validation that what Lassiter was saying was true, he could then take his own steps to deal with Kamarov after which he would eliminate Lassiter and anyone else who might get in the way. Lassiter would have to die, but his life versus the countless thousands who would die if he did nothing seemed a small price to pay.
If following Lassiter failed to produce any evidence, it could only mean that Lassiter was bluffing. He would then have to wait the general out until sixty days passed and the next hearing on SIGMA ONE came. During that time, he knew he would have to play along with the madman and pretend to be supportive of the general's scheme to kidnap the Soviet lest his secret affairs be made public. Playing along would also buy him time to get another agent inside the Soviet Union. The new agent, though, would not be sent this time to only watch Kamarov, however. He would have instructions to kill him. Although such a scheme would be very dangerous, Radcliff saw no other alternative. Then, after Kamarov was safely out of the way, he would take care of the general.
In the meantime, he could continue his research and hope that by some miracle the NSF would find an answer before Kamarov had to be killed. If they could achieve their goals at the NSF, he wouldn't have to worry about the general's plan. In any event, he couldn't risk telling Pat what he learned today. No sense giving him anything else to concern himself with----No, it would be best to concentrate on SIGMA ONE and make it work. Radcliff forced a smile as he thought about what the general had said. Now, it seemed, both his and Pat's individual deadlines were identical and now he fully understood what Pat must be going through.
Radcliff, his mind made up, looked at his watch, and grabbed the phone to have the general followed before he left the building. While he was speaking to the security officer he assigned to the task, he was thinking what a bastard the general was and how he could even the score. After he finished the call he sat back down into his chair and mumbled to himself. "Tell the press about Ms. Hunt, indeed! I'll have your ass in a sling, general. That's what I'll do." He then slammed his fist on the desk.
CHAPTER 13
Debbie sat in the emergency room for nearly three hours before Angel came back down the hall and told her what had happened to Burt. "Hello, Ms. Andrews," Angel said as he approached her. "I have news about Mr. Grayson."
Debbie got up and rushed to him. "What is it? What do you know? I couldn't get a thing out of the nurses."
Angel stepped back a step before he began. He felt crowded by Debbie's standing so close.
"Ms. Andrews, tell you what I know, but please give me room to breathe. " She stepped back. He continued. "Burt had initially been diagnosed as being the victim of an overdose as you know. That's what I had to tell them in spite of what you told me. I'm sorry. However, the lab tests initially failed to provide any trace to support this theory. The doctors and nurses treating him were especially surprised when after defibrillating him only once that he was able to sit up in bed and could talk. Apparently the electric shock not only jump started his heart, but also launched him back into reality."
"You mean he's awake?"
"He was five minutes ago when I left him."
Debbie beamed.
"Ms. Andrews, you can go in and visit him now. I think he's going to be all right. I'm sorry for what I said earlier. It's just that every time I get ca1led out on an overdose case, I think about my brother and how he had to die needlessly. I guess I let his death cloud my vision sometimes."
Debbie didn't know about Angel's brother, but he spoke to her as if she did. He had forgotten he never told her about him. But that didn't matter now to her. Nothing mattered atoll. Burt was going to be all right. That's what she heard. She didn't care about how badly Angel had treated her Parlier, about what his diagnosis was, about her being forced to wait, about not being able to understand why the Chicano paramedic was blathering something about a lost brother. Nothing but Burt being okay made any difference to Debbie at all. And although that Chicano was responsible for saving Burt's life and she should have been thankful and understanding and responded to his apology with kindness, even if she didn't know what he was talking about, she didn't. Instead, she brushed by him as if he wasn't even there and ran down the hall to Room 108 where Burt was recovering, leaving Angel alone as she had been left alone earli
er, and adding to his bitterness at being rebuffed, making him angry he had swallowed his macho pride and apologized to her in the first place.
When Debbie got to his room, Burt was sitting up in bed watching TV. A precautionary IV was hooked to his arm, and an EKG to his chest. He looked slightly pale even though he was conscious.
"Burt, I love you." Debbie said and began to cry, finally venting the emotions she had been holding back since the morning. Next, she leaned over and put both her arms around his neck and held him close to her breast stroking her fingers through his hair and enjoying the feeling of having him so close, but nearly suffocating him.
"Whoa, little lady," Burt cautioned pushing his head back from her chest to get some air. "You act like you haven't seen me in weeks." As he spoke, he sounded and was acting like the Burt she used to know before everything got so crazy.
Debbie sniffled and stood up, moving away from his bed as she stared down at him, expecting him at any moment to go into another fit. "I'm sorry for the outburst. I'm just so happy to see you're okay. I didn't know if you were going to make it or not and for the past three hours all have been able to do is pray. I couldn't get any information from the nurses and I didn't know where you were until a few moments ago when the paramedic who brought you here told me. I'm sorry."
Burt listened to her and as she continued to talk he became more and more puzzled. "Going to make it? Paramedic who brought me here?" he said aloud. "What are you talking about? What do you mean?"
Debbie didn't know quite how to respond. She hesitated. "You mean you don't know what happened?"
"No, All I know is that I woke up here with a splitting headache and my ribs hurting like I'd been kicked by a horse. The nurse who was here when I woke up said I should be here for observation for at least seventy-two hours, but when I asked her why, she wouldn't tell me anything more and then she just left. I'm glad you're here now." He took her hand. "I was almost ready to jump out of this bed and go try to find the doctor that admitted me."
Debbie looked at him. He wasn't making any sense. "You weren't admitted, Burt. You were brought here by paramedics."
"I wasn't--oh well, I just assumed. What happened anyway? Why'd the paramedics bring me here?"
She deliberated before she answered. She didn't know if she should tell him he had just had a heart attack. She didn't know if the stress would be too much for him and thought that may have been why the nurse had been silent earlier when he asked about his condition. She decided to evade the question by asking one of her own.
"Burt, what's the last thing you remember?"
"Why?"
"I just wanted to know that's why?"
Burt was becoming agitated. He didn't like her answering his question with one of her own. His voice was strained. "Listen, Debbie I don't know what happened. That's why I'm asking you. Now please tell me why I'm here." He started to throw his sheets aside.
She couldn't let him get out of bed. And she couldn't answer him either. "Burt, I'll tell you, but first answer me, okay?" She wanted to stop him from getting up and moved closer while she waited for an answer. She repeated her earlier question, "what's the last thing you remember?" She then reached over and put her hand on his chest to hold him back.
He resisted momentarily but then sank back into his pillow, too weak to continue his efforts to escape.
"Okay. I'll play along, Debbie," he said letting go of her hand. "The last thing I remember is seeing you after I left this morning from the dorm room." He looked confused and then began to speak again, this time rapidly. "Oh, yeah, now I remember. You made some joke about it being Monday and that I had an exam to get to."
Debbie looked at him and believed him to be telling the truth. He seemed to be remembering. She pressed farther. "And then what?" She wanted to find out where he went and what he did before lunch. He obviously hadn't gone to his exam like he said he was going to do. She then started to recall Angel's initial words about being an overdose victim and began to worry momentarily. Her anxiety didn't last long, however as she remembered his comments about them not finding traces of drugs in Burt's blood.
She composed herself and continued. "Burt, it wasn't a joke that I made earlier. Today is Monday and you did have an exam." She was becoming irritated. "Nov what's the last thing you remember? Think, please!"
Burt sat up in bed, but closed his eyes as he sifted through his muddled thoughts trying to recollect. He-stayed like that for about two minutes, but then opened his eyes and began to answer her. "Debbie, I remember your coming into my room. I was still in bed, right?"
"Right!" She encouraged him.
"And then you said it was Monday and I had to go take an exam and then----I guess I was a little sleepy, but I got up."
"That's right. Then what?"
"And then, I supposed I was playing along with you," he paused. She frowned. He immediately could tell it wasn't a joke.
"Okay. I got up and got dressed and left for my Chem exam."
"Yes?"
He couldn't remember what happened next as hard as he tried. "Debbie,"he said, his voice quavering. He looked panicky. "I just can't remember.I can't. What's happening to me? Am I losing it?" He reached for her.
She took his hand. "I don't know. Maybe if you could just remember what happened in the lunchroom. Maybe then you'll be able to string the rest of the day and the weekend back together if you could just remember something."
"What happened in the lunchroom?" he asked. "I don't understand."
"You met me in the lunchroom, remember?"
"No."
"Well, you did."
"What'd I do next?"
Debbie was on the spot. She decided to answer him. He appeared strong enough to accept the truth and anything would be better than this merry go round they were currently on. She hoped her telling him might snap him out of his amnesia. She recalled reading somewhere that sometimes when people experience a great shock to their system that they temporarily lose track of the events immediately preceding the shock and that if they're reminded, they sometimes get their memory back faster. She proceeded cautiously, hoping her assessment of his condition was accurate.
"You met me at the lunchroom, okay?"
"Okay. I believe you."
"Then we sat down and talked. You didn't say anything about the test." “
Uh, uh."
"You didn't look too good either. You looked sick----like you were suffering from a heat stroke or (she paused)...a heart attack or something---" She stopped to gauge his reaction.
Nothing. He didn't budge.
She continued. "After we talked for a moment, you barfed and then passed out. That's why you're here now."
"I looked like I was having a heart attack?" He looked concerned, but was still alert when he asked.
"Yes! Don't you remember anything?"
Burt strained. "I vaguely remember being in the cafeteria, but not how I got there or what happened afterwards." He looked troubled but continued to talk. "So we talked, I barfed, passed out and here I am. That's it?"
"Not entirely." Debbie still wanted to know about the video tape. Maybe going back farther would help. She had nothing to lose.
"Do you remember the tape you made in your room? Do you remember the experiment?"
Burt squeezed her hand in his and his palms became sweaty. His eyes, however, lit up.
"The experiment! That's it. The experiment!" he repeated. "Did I do it? Did the tape come out okay? What did you see?" He was excited as he spoke.
"The tape came out okay, and we can talk about what I saw later. But what do you mean, 'did I do it'?"
His eyes widened. "Did I link with the computer?"
Debbie saw he was remembering. "Yes---- she tentatively answered, "I think so."
"Did you watch all the video I made?" He was eager for an answer and unknowingly squeezed her hand almost to the point of pain.
Debbie didn't want to get into the details of the video, the scrawl of obscenities
she had seen still confused and troubled her. It wasn't the right time to press for answers. She decided to be purposefully vague in answering his question. "I saw the video, but I don't understand it. What was it all about? Do you remember? All I saw was you sitting at your desk describing what you were trying to do and then the screen flashed letters and words and pictures on it."
"It did? What words?"
Debbie didn't want to answer. How could she tell him he filled the screen with obscenities and it worried her? She couldn't. She had to sidestep the issue with a lie. "It just flashed the words 'Daniel, we did it!
Burt rolled his eyes into the back of his head when Debbie pronounced his brother's name. Everything started to come into focus.
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