by Shain Carter
"Of course,” Burt agreed. “I had to. You and Ted posed a special problem for me. Your only real role was to add color to George’s story and make it believable to Becker. Ted’s calculations were irrelevant, and so was your green flame fuel. Conventional fuels have enough thrust to get a two-stage missile to Washington. Even though we didn’t care about your work, George and I had to be sure to keep the two of you busy, otherwise you might find the time to sniff around and uncover our little game.
“George took on the task of keeping Ted distracted. He kept giving Ted new coordinates for the messenger probe, and Ted kept busy recalculating new interceptor trajectories every few days. I picked what I thought would be an effective distraction for you, Jones - alcohol. I really thought that unlimited booze was all it would take, that you'd just drink away the days feeling sorry for yourself. So when you got close to finishing early I tried to arrange an accident with you glove box, figuring the setback would put an end to your zeal, but you came back to the lab just in time to avert it.
“I was counting on you Jones - that’s the real reason I enlisted you for the program, that the alcohol would keep you so occupied that I wouldn’t have to worry about you snooping around. But you let me down. You ended up getting all gung-ho about your work and finished it up too quickly. Then you started poking your nose in places it didn’t belong. But don’t worry, despite your interference I’ll still get the job done, thanks to your girlfriend, here.“
Burt motioned to Meredith, who sat bolt upright.
“Thanks to me? What did I do?”
“You told George that the reactor was flawed and wouldn’t work. And then you refused to discuss what was wrong with it. George is so worried about it that he’s decided to move the plutonium to the machine shop tomorrow night to test it out himself.”
“But I never told him that!”
“Sure you did, a few nights ago, when you came back from the machine shop.”
“But that’s not what I meant,” Meredith protested. “The reactor isn’t flawed, it’s just missing its interlocks - that’s why it won’t work. And I wasn’t refusing to discuss it, I just didn’t feel like talking about it right then.”
Burt laughed. “Maybe that’s what you meant, but it’s not the message George heard. And to make matters worse, George wasn’t able to find this.”
Burt pulled a small object from his pocket.
“That’s the memory stick you left in the car,” Dawson said.
“Wrong on two accounts, Jones,” Burt replied. “It’s not mine and it’s not a memory stick. It’s George’s, and it’s a small audio recorder. George had the car bugged when you went to the machine shop. He wanted to listen in on what you said to be sure you weren’t on to us. He must have felt it very opportune that you volunteered to go out to the shop with Meredith when Alec was too sick to go - there wouldn’t be much conversation to listen to if Meredith was alone. After you came back George took the whole car apart looking for this, never knowing that you had taken it and given it to me.
“That left him with just one last option for finding out why Meredith thought the reactor wouldn’t work, and that was to ask the head machinist about what you discussed. According to our source at the machine shop site, the machinist denied that you told him that anything of consequence. That’s because he never even knew that there was supposed to be an interlock - George took it out of your schematics because it would have prevented him from making the reactor go critical. But the machinist didn’t know that, he just assumed that you, as a woman, were too stupid to know what you were talking about. And George, for his part, assumed that the machinist was lying to avoid punishment. That was an unfortunate misunderstanding for the machinist - George had he shot on the spot. He’s always had a bit of a temper like that. But now George has no way of knowing whether the reactor will work without actually testing it with plutonium. And when he does, a Special Forces team will be on hand to take it away from him.
“All of which means our work here is almost done. All I need is for all of you to play it cool for the next twenty-four hours and not let George suspect you know about our little game. I’ve arranged a diversion east of here late tomorrow afternoon. During it we’ll head off for the hills to the south. We’ll wait it out there for several hours, for a helicopter that will pick us up and get us out of here.”
“What about Becker?” Alec asked. “What if he isn’t back from the dig by then?”
“There is no dig, McPherson - George has Becker locked up and under interrogation. But that’s not a concern for us. Becker’s presence tomorrow afternoon is not required.”
“We can’t just leave him behind,” Dawson objected. “We’ve got to get him out.”
Meredith began to voice her agreement, but Burt cut her off.
“As far as the remainder of this operation goes, Derek is expendable. I’m not doing anything that jeopardizes my ability to get the plutonium, and rescuing Becker would do just that. Right now, George is on the brink of making a very important decision. He knows Alec is only a week or so away from finishing the two-stage, and Meredith’s reactor design is all but finished, too. But George doesn’t know who, besides Becker and I, knows that this whole thing is a scam. I overheard Becker’s confrontation with George. George wanted to know how Becker figured it out, but Becker was so pissed off at George that he refused to answer. You know how indignant Becker can be. If he can keep that up for another day, and if all of you can make George believe that you’re none the wiser, then we’ll get out of here in one piece.”
Ted shook his head violently. “No! Surely we can save Derek and still get away. We owe it to him.”
“You owe him no such thing. Remember, he’s the one who put you here - all of you - right into harm’s way. Derek never cared about you. All he wanted was the interceptor that you were going to make for him. Turn the tables and he wouldn’t give a tinker’s damn about saving you. You were just tools to him. It’s time you started thinking about your own welfare, Krezler, since Becker clearly wasn’t.”
“How can you be so callous?” Meredith demanded. “It’s a man’s life were talking about here.”
“Callous? You want callous? How about letting ten million people die just to save one? Because that’s what happens if I don’t get that plutonium tomorrow night. Besides, rich guys have a way of coming out on top in these situations. I have every confidence that Derek will be able to buy his way home.”
Ted opened his mouth, but Burt cut him off. “End of conversation. That decision’s been made. You’ll do what I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it. Period. That goes for all of you.” He glanced at his watch. “George will be back in a few minutes, so get to your rooms.”
Chapter Twenty-one
For once in his life, Dawson did exactly as he was told. Back in his room, he pulled a bottle from his drawer, turned out the lights, and began replaying Burt’s revelations in his mind. As he drank he couldn’t stop thinking about the utter uselessness of his hard work. The realization that there was never any intention of actually using green flame fuels, that his role was simply to add color to Burt's cover story, sickened him. But what bothered him most was that Burt was actually counting on him to get discouraged and quit, that as far as Burt’s master plan went, he was a problem that had to be dealt with.
After several minutes, Dawson heard soft footsteps coming down the hall. They paused at his door, then were followed by a gentle knock. He opened the door to find Meredith in the hallway, peering into the dark room. Wordlessly Jones flipped the light on and motioned her in.
"I just come by to congratulate you, Dawson,” she told him, closing the door behind her. "You were able to see George's fake fossil for what it is, and you figured out where we are. None of the rest of us would have thought to do that on our own."
Dawson choked back his surprise. "Congratulate me? Hardly. I might have figured out part of it, but I was wrong on a lot more than I was right. The fact that the fossil i
s a fake means very little compared to the other stuff Burt told us. I certainly never would have guessed any of that. And the one part that I did get has put Derek in a lot of danger. Or worse."
Dawson motioned Meredith to his chair, then dropped into his bed and took a long drink.
Meredith’s face took on a look of worry as she took her seat. "The ‘or worse’ part is the other reason I’m here,” she said. “I'm really bothered about what Burt said about Derek. Burt made it sound like Derek deserves whatever he gets because this was all his idea. But it wasn't, was it? Derek was just as much manipulated as the rest of us - even more so, since he was getting it constantly from both George and Burt. If anyone's to blame for this, it's Burt. He pulled all the strings to get us together and over here. Burt owes it to Derek to get him out of here.”
Dawson reflected on this. “I think there’s more to it than that,” he said, thinking out loud. “Maybe Burt is doing what he’s doing because he’s worried about himself. Look at this from George’s point of view. He thinks he’s about to win. You’re practically finished, and with a little prodding, Alec can be done in a week - which is before Burt’s next scheduled contact with the CIA. So all George has to do is get rid of Burt before Burt pulls the plug on Alec’s work. It’d be easy enough for George to get Burt to disappear - just grab him when he’s alone, then tell us that Derek asked Burt out to the dig. After that, George is home free. Burt’s only chance to survive is to ditch Derek and get the hell out of here before George grabs him. And that’s exactly what he’s planning to do tomorrow.”
“But that’s not why we’re leaving tomorrow - it’s because Burt knows where the plutonium is going to be, and we need to get out at the same time the plutonium is grabbed.”
Dawson shrugged. “That’s Burt’s story. But why should we believe him - he’s lied to us about everything else so far.”
Meredith nodded, and they sat in silent agreement. After a moment she asked Dawson if there was anything else bothering him. Dawson hesitated, then took in a deep breath. “I really thought something would come of the green flame work,” he told her.
“We’re all unhappy that we’ve wasted the summer.”
“No, it’s more than just that.” Dawson took another drink before continuing. “It seems I can’t do anything without getting jerked around by someone, whether it’s Tilden micromanaging my grading and everything else I do at SCU, or Burt using me to add some color to his little drama. No matter which way I turn, there’s somebody there to manipulate me.”
Meredith shook her head. “I think you’re lumping together two very different things. Burt had his reasons for conning you - that was always his intention. But if Tilden is trying to control your life, it’s only because you won’t control it yourself. I’m sure he has better things to do than to keep tabs on you all the time. He isn’t micromanaging you because he wants to, it’s because he has to.”
“He has to do no such thing. I handled my responsibilities to SCU just fine before he started meddling in my affairs.”
“And when did he start meddling with your affairs?”
“It was years ago, after the green flame program went belly up and my wife died. I might have been a little unreliable then, but I’m long over all that.”
“Then that just leaves your drinking problem.”
The words caught Dawson by surprise. “I don’t have a drinking problem,” he told her curtly.
“You don’t? You drink all the time. Don’t you think that could be a problem?”
Dawson felt his face flush with indignation. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I drink because I have problems, not the other way around. You make it sound like drinking is hurting me, but it’s the opposite. Drinking makes my life more bearable; it’s what keeps me going. It’s not the problem - it’s the solution.”
Meredith stared at Dawson with a mixture of concern and disbelief. “Have it your way,” she finally shrugged, “although I think if you look at it honestly, your way hasn’t worked out too well for you.”
Dawson began to protest, but Meredith stood and walked to the door. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” she said as she opened the door. “I really did stop by just to compliment you on solving Burt’s little mystery, and talk to you about Derek.”
Dawson listened as her footsteps receded down the hallway, then shoved the door roughly closed. He turned the light back out, then slowly let out a deep sigh and dropped back onto his bed.
Her words had stung him. Not just the words themselves, but that they came from her, someone he had grown to consider a close friend. She’s wrong, he thought, taking in another mouthful of his lab alcohol. Wrong about me and wrong to judge me.
He slammed the bottle down hard on his desk - too hard. The bottom of the bottle shattered, spilling its contents all over the desk and floor. Within seconds the room reeked of the evaporating liquid. The odor was distinctly chemical, like an antiseptic, and completely lacked any of the appeal of a beverage alcohol like whiskey or wine. It overwhelmed Jones, making him feel weak and sick to his stomach. He flipped on the light and mopped up the floor and desk with a dirty shirt, then scooped the broken glass into his trash can.
With the mess now cleaned up, Dawson sat back at on his bed and jerked open the top drawer of his dresser. There, from under a stack of pants, he pulled out a second bottle. At least it was the nearly empty one that broke, Jones mused. He deftly twisted the top off the new bottle and took a deep drink.
Dawson spent most of the night drinking and thinking about what Burt had told them. But Meredith’s words were never far from his mind, and he kept going back to their conversation. Her comments on his drinking, which had caught him completely off guard, had had a surprisingly strong effect on him. Replaying their exchange, he wished now that he had answered her differently. She was wrong, he knew, and he felt it desperately important to set her straight. Eventually he collapsed, exhausted, and fell into a troubled and restless sleep.
Chapter Twenty-two
The air was thick with tension at breakfast the next morning. Alec could only barely choke down just a single piece of toast. Ted, Meredith and Dawson ate together at another table, in near complete silence. Only Burt and George seemed their normal selves. Burt, who had gotten there first, wolfed down his breakfast and left for Building 12 well ahead of the others. George arrived at breakfast shortly after Burt left, and took a seat across from Alec. He grilled Alec about progress on the rocket. George was friendly but persistent, and Alec chose his answers to be encouraging. “I’m way ahead of schedule now,” he told George repeatedly. “I think I could be done in just a few more days.”
With a cheerful wave George excused himself from Alec’s table and walked toward the door. As he neared it, his foot struck something on the floor. With a loud clatter it bounced off the wall and back almost to George’s feet. He leaned over and picked it up. He stared down at it, turning it carefully in his hands. From where he sat, Dawson could see that it was Alec’s amber prescription bottle. A sideways glance at the others told him that they, too, knew what it was.
For a long minute George stared at it, his face betraying nothing of the thoughts that were going through his mind. After a painful silence, Alec rose to his feet. In a shrill voice he called out, “My medicine!” For an instant George’s face clouded over with uncertainty. He hesitated a moment, then his familiar cheerfulness returned. He casually handed the bottle to Alec. Alec wrestled the cap open and poured a few pills in his hand. With a shudder he swallowed them.
“You should keep up better with your medication, Dr. McPherson,” George said, carefully watching Alec. Alec nodded his head enthusiastically. “Yes, I misplaced it yesterday evening. I must be more careful. I think I’m feeling better already.”
George took one last look around, then, apparently satisfied, left the room. Dawson slumped in his chair and slowly let out his breath. Ted leaned across the table to Dawson and Meredith.
“That was c
lose - do you think George suspects?”
Meredith and Dawson looked at one another uncertainly, then at Alec. The car would be out front for him any minute, and he was struggling to his feet.
“I don’t think so,” Meredith said, “but he’s certainly going to be watching us more closely. I just hope Alec can hold up under the stress.”
Dawson spent the entire morning in the lab, drinking and thinking at his desk. He thought some about the difficult situation they were in, and about Derek, but mostly he thought about Meredith’s visit to his room the night before. It continued to bother him, which in itself irritated him. The minutes dragged into hours, and finally it was time to go back to the dormitory for lunch.
Like breakfast, lunch was tense. George stayed for only a few minutes. He reported that he had spoken with Derek by radio that morning, and that Derek had indeed decided to stay at the dig for a few more days. Then he excused himself, saying there were some matters that needed his attention in the soldiers’ building.
After he left, Ted leaned over and began to ask Burt something. Burt quickly put a finger to his lips, then mouthed the words, “not here.” Ted nodded, and the entire meal was eaten in silence.
They walked back to Building 12 together, except for Alec, who had already been driven down. Once away from the dormitory, Burt began speaking to them, all the while keeping his gaze straight ahead and without breaking stride.
“We don’t have much time, so listen carefully and don’t interrupt, and don’t look at me while I talk. I’m sure we’re being watched closely.
“We’re leaving town tonight, after dinner, when we’re back at Building 12. Meredith, start back to the dormitory by 7:30 and get the kids together. Don’t do anything out of the ordinary - don’t say anything to the kids about leaving, don’t pack anything. Just be with them and ready to go.
