Marc took his handkerchief and applied pressure to the ugly bullet wounds in her chest to try to slow the bleeding. Pepper was barely holding to life — breathing shallowly and losing blood rapidly. A security guard ran to the closet, retrieved a blanket and draped it over her.
Oh dear God, Marc thought. Please don’t let her die. He wiped the tears from his eyes and looked at this young woman, whom he cared so much for, lying there clinging to a single thread of life. The two 9 mm slugs had entered close to her heart.
The paramedics arrived quickly. “We’ll take it from here, Doc.”
The paramedic checked her heart. “She has no pulse. I’m going to start CPR. Put the oxygen mask on her.” After a minute of manual CPR, Pepper still had not responded.
“Give me the paddles, Tom,” the paramedic ordered his partner.
Mike, the administering paramedic, placed the paddles on Peppers chest and yelled, “Clear.” Peppers body jumped. They waited a moment for some response, but the EKG flat lined.
“Stand back, I’m going to try again. He pulled the trigger and her body jerked. The monitor was still flat lined. No heart beat.
Marc struggled to hold himself together. It looked like Pepper was dead.
“Mike, I don’t think she’s going to make it,” Tom said.
Mike shook his head. “I’m not going to give her up — not yet. Give me the syringe. I’m going to inject directly in her heart.”
Tom handed him the syringe and Mike stuck the needle through the wall of Peppers chest into her heart and injected the stimulant. He pulled the needle out and waited, watching for any sign of life on the monitor. The EKG still flat lined, emitting a low level, constant tone.
“Mike,” the second paramedic said quietly. “She’s gone. There’s nothing more we can do.”
Mike shook his head and noted, “I want to try the paddles one more time.” He placed the paddles in position and yelled, “Clear.” The end game was the same. No pulse.
“Guess you’re right, Tom, mark the time of death at 1545. What a friggin’ shame.” He laid the paddles down, wiped his forehead and rose to his feet. Tears ran down Marc’s cheeks. “I can’t believe she’s dead,” he said, fighting to keep from crying.
The paramedics started picking up the equipment. Suddenly, a faint beep sounded on the monitor. Everyone’s eyes stared at the monitor, hoping, praying. A second beep and the trace on the monitor began to show signs of a very weak heartbeat.
“Thank God,” Marc cried, overjoyed. He wiped the tears from his face.
The medics quickly hooked up an IV and covered her with a blanket to take her out of the room. As they left, they called the medical department. “We have a Code Ten.”
The nurse on duty replied, “The medical team is waiting for her in OR 5.”
It had been over two hours since they had taken Pepper into the OR — the longest two hours of Marc’s life. Marc’s hands shook as if he suffered from Parkinson’s disease. He needed a drink. I can’t believe this. It’s absolutely surreal. This whole damn project reads like a Shakespearian tragedy.
He sat in his chair staring at the blood and brains on his carpet. He wanted to vomit. He opened his desk, pulled out a bottle of Scotch and took several long belts. He needed something to calm his nerves. As he drank, he became depressed. The issues with his wife, the deaths and mayhem were taking its toll on him. He took a deep breath to calm his shaky hands. I don’t know how much more of this I can take. This whole project has turned into a nightmare. He felt the pains in his chest and in his left arm returning. I hope to hell I can fight off this heart attack until we get things straightened out.
After several more belts of Scotch, he couldn’t stand the wait any longer and called the medical department.
“Nurse, how is Dr. Martin doing?” he asked.
“She’s coming out of the OR now. Just a minute, Dr. Anthoni, her surgeon wants to talk to you.”
Before the surgeon could speak, Marc blurted out, “Dr. Jensen, is Pepper going to make it?”
“She made it through the surgery, but she’s very weak. We had to give her four pints of blood. This was an extremely difficult procedure. The bullets lodged in her chest, one-millimeter from her heart. Luckily, they didn’t puncture the aorta. We’re taking her into intensive care now. The next ten hours are going to be critical. She’s a strong young woman. I just hope she has the will to live. I honestly think she won’t make it. The stress all of you have been under and now this makes recovery doubtful. I’m sorry.”
“Please notify me if there’s any change.”
“I will. We just have to wait and see now.”
Marc hung up, took another drink, closed his eyes and sat quietly. After a few minutes, he called Bill Hart and told him the devastating news.
“I’m coming out on the next flight. Have someone pick me up at the spaceport. I’ll send you my flight information. Please call me, day or night, if there’s any change in Pepper’s condition.”
“I will. We just have to wait and see now.”
“Marc, I’m totally upset about the state of affairs out there. I can’t believe Lars Johanson was the traitor. Is the Orion on the way home? Thank God we got that straightened out.”
“They should be in Earth orbit tomorrow. This has been a friggin’ nightmare. See you tomorrow.”
Marc decided he needed to inform the Orion. After another scotch, he went down to the MCC area. Everyone was deeply upset with the events that had transpired. Marc had never seen it so gloomy. Tarnak was at the mission director’s console, checking flight and system status.
“Tarnak, I want to call the Orion and let them know what happened down here.”
“How’s Pepper?”
“She’s in intensive care. It doesn’t look good. Can you get the Orion for me?”
“Right away. Orion, this is MCC. Please come in.”
Marc sat down and collected his thoughts before he began to talk. “Captain, we have some very bad news. Can you patch Harry, Ronnie and Kimberly in?”
“Astro lab, please patch into the video intercom.”
“Captain … we’re ready.”
Marc started the conversation. “Gentlemen, I have some terrible news to share with you. First, let me tell you that Lars Johansen shot Pepper Martin in my office earlier today. I shot and killed Lars right after that. They operated on her this morning, and took two bullets out of her chest. She’s in intensive care now.”
“I can’t believe this! Is she going to live?” Harry asked — frantic and fearful of the answer.
“I won’t BS you Harry, it’s very serious,” Marc said. “The next ten hours will be critical. Honestly, her surgeon doesn’t know if she will survive or not. I called Bill Hart and he’s coming out tomorrow morning.”
“What the hell happened down there? This whole thing is nuts. None of it makes any sense.”
“Pepper found out it was Lars who had been sabotaging the project from the beginning. After she and Wanda completed their analysis, she came to my office and discussed it with me. We arrested Lars and when we confronted him with the evidence he confessed.”
“Why would a man of Lars stature resort to such a thing, Marc?” He was a trusted member of our team. Everyone liked him. I don’t understand.”
“Marc explained Lar’s early history with the MOA, and how they helped him get into the United Sates where he spent years filtering technical information to them.
“He wouldn’t tell us why they were interested in our program, but did say we’d know soon enough,” Marc explained. “I’ll forward you a complete transcript of Peppers report and the details of our discussions with him.”
“Where did he get the gun?” Harry asked.
“He hit a security guard and took his. He told Pepper he was the one who tried to kill her in Albuquerque, and then shot her. I took my 9 mm requalification gun from my desk drawer and shot him as he turned to shoot me. I just wasn’t fast enough to prevent him from shootin
g Pepper.”
“What a frigging tragedy. Please tell her I love her. We should be home within a day. If there are any changes, please notify me immediately.”
“I will, Harry. You can count on it. Well, I’m glad you’re safe and headed home. This was a very tough trip for all of us. I’ll have the report to you shortly. I need to go to the hospital. Talk to you later.”
“Harry, I can’t believe my ears,” Scott said. This has to be the most tragic thing I’ve ever heard!”
“I agree. I love her so much. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost her.”
“Please let me know if there’s anything I can do to help,” Ronnie said, putting his arm around his friends shoulder to comfort him.
“The next twenty-four hours is going to be the longest and most stressful period of my life,” Harry said, as tears rolled down his cheek.”
“I’m here for you, pal,” Ronnie said.
“Me too,” Scott said, wrapping his arm around Harry’s shoulder.
It was 2 a.m. ship time, and the third watch was on duty. Down in the military quarters, Donovan lay in her bunk, waiting.
T Bone was snoring loudly. Donovan reached under her bed and retrieved the snakehead from her pack. Lovingly, she stroked it several times, grinning to herself. I bet T Bone has a wild-eyed fit when he wakes up and sees his bedmate. Just thinking about it made her chuckle.
She eased over to T Bone’s bunk. He lay on his right side and snored with his mouth open. Donovan placed the snakehead on his pillow, close to his face, and pulled the sheet up to it. Giggling softly, she went back to her bunk and crawled under the sheets.
About 4 a.m., T Bone woke up with a strong urge to urinate. He blinked and could not quite comprehend what he saw in the dim light. Staring him in the face was the biggest, ugliest, meanest looking thing he had ever seen. Totally repulsed, he let out a blood-curdling scream. He screamed again as he shot up out of his bunk, hitting his bead and falling on the deck, pissing on himself.
“What the fucking hell?” he yelled, as he crawled to his feet. He shouted profanities, trying to wipe off his shorts as the Sergeant Major ran into the bunkroom.
Donovan had pulled the sheet over her head and pretended to be asleep. She bit her lip to keep from laughing.
“What the hell is going on? T Bone, what the fuck is wrong with you? You lose your mind, or what?”
“Sergeant Major, that red-headed bitch put a snake in my bunk. It almost bit me in the face.” He backed into the bulkhead and yelled, “She tried to kill me!”
“What?” The Sergeant Major lifted the sheet, and there was the snakehead resting on the pillow. “T Bone, it’s just a head. Donovan, wake up.”
“Yes, Sergeant Major?” She pulled the sheet off her head and pretended to be groggy.
“Did you put that snakehead in T Bone’s bunk?” he asked, holding the head up, trying not to laugh.
“What head?”
“This one, damn it. What the hell you think I’m talking about?”
“T Bone’s out of his fucking gourd. He probably put it there himself, so he could blame me.”
“That bitch is lying, Sergeant Major. I know she did it. Who else could have?”
“All right, let’s settle down. No harm done. By the way, T Bone, you might want to change your shorts. Looks like you pissed on yourself.” The Sergeant Major turned and walked back to his stateroom, laughing loudly.
“Donovan, you fucking witch. If it takes me a year, I’m gonna get you for this.” T Bone headed for the shower to wash off.
Donovan pulled the sheet back up, rolled over and laughed. This was the best one I ever pulled on him. I can’t believe he pissed his shorts. She let out a belly laugh.
Chapter 51
STL Facility
New Mexico
Harry anxiously walked into intensive care and approached the nurses’ desk. He had never been so apprehensive in his life. “I’m Harry Stevenson, Pepper Martin’s fiancé. May I see her?”
“You can go in, but please restrict your stay to no more than five minutes. She’s still very weak.”
“Thank you, nurse.”
Harry quietly entered the room. He fought back tears when he saw her lying there. Tubes ran up her nose, and both arms had IV’s attached. Her breathing was shallow, and her color so pale it scared him. The monitor showed her vital signs, including a weak, but regular, pulse. He sat at the side of her bed, trying not to bust out crying. It hurt him deeply to think that the woman he loved, with all his heart, might not survive.
The fear of losing her oozed through every pore of his body. He folded his arms on the mattress, and rested his head on them. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop the stream of tears that rolled down his cheeks and wet the sheets. He tried to muffle his sobs.
A hand softly rubbed across the back of his head. His eyes full of tears, his heart leaped with a joy he had never experienced when he raised his head and saw Pepper smiling faintly at him. He wanted so badly to hold and kiss her. He took her hand softly, kissed it tenderly and then pressed it gently against his face, caressing it.
“I was afraid I was going to lose you. These last days in route were hell. I love you so much. Honey, please don’t leave me. I need you so much.”
Pepper smiled weakly. “I love you too,” she said softly. “I thought I had lost you also, but thank God you got back. Just seeing you home and safe makes me feel better. My goodness, you’re all bruised and cut up.”
Pepper was getting tired. He kissed her gently on the forehead. “I’m fine, sweetheart. Don’t worry about me. I only have five minutes, so I have to go. I’ll see you as soon as they’ll let me back in.”
Pepper smiled and fell back asleep. Harry stood by her bed and looked at her for another moment. He prayed, asking God to spare her life. He had never realized just how much she meant to him until this moment. If she died, a part of him would die also.
When Harry got home from the hospital that night, Scooter met him at the door.
“Welcome home. We missed you. We know about Pepper and I’m so sorry. How is she?”
“Very weak, but her doctor told me she’d recover. She’s a tough lady. I missed you too, Scooter. How have you been doing?”
“Well thank you. Looks like some guy beat you up again. You okay?”
“Just a rough trip. What have you been up to?”
“I’ve been using the new virtual reality program Wanda designed for me. I’ve fished some of the greatest bass spots in the world. It’s the most fantastic thing I’ve ever experienced. The usual tonight?”
“Sounds good.” Harry went into the media room, followed by Scooter, and crashed in his favorite chair.
Wanda activated the music and started his favorite aquarium program, while Scooter brought him his drink. Wanda waited for a few minutes, and then activated to talk with him. She sat in her black leather chair, wearing casual clothes. “Welcome home, Harry. My goodness, you’re all cut up and bruised. Did you go to the doctor?”
“The ship’s doctor treated me. That jungle was hell.”
“I know, I saw the videos and monitored the comm traffic. I’m so sorry about Pepper. I’ve patched into the hospital computer system numerous times and checked all her meds to satisfy myself of her condition. How is she feeling?”
“Her doctor said her recovery will be slow.”
“By my analysis, it will take her at least two months. However, I assure you she will get well. She’s a strong person,” she nodded emphatically.
“Wanda, I want to thank you for your help with that virus. You really came through for us. I hope that craziness is behind us. I still can’t believe Lars was responsible. I really liked him.”
“The evidence was conclusive. It’s just too bad Marc didn’t get more out of him. I’ve read the reports. We still don’t know what his sponsors are up to, and that’s troubling. I do have my suspicions, though.”
“What are you thinking?”
“I calculat
e, with a 98.0 percent probability, the MOA is trying to convert this technology to a black hole weapon system. It’s the only thing that makes sense. Our technology was to be open for everyone’s use. No one had to steal it.”
Cold shivers ran up and down Harry’s spine. “Wanda, that’s a frightening idea. There wouldn’t be any defense against it. Anyone with that type of weapon could hold the whole world hostage. I sure hope you’re wrong, but it makes sense. Scooter, bring me another drink, and make it a strong one, please.”
“Coming right up,” Scooter replied.
“Harry, are you going to contact our folks tonight?” Wanda asked. “Your mom has been an emotional mess since the start of this last trip.”
“Yeah, I think it would be good to talk to her.”
“Good. I have some important things I want to discuss with her also.”
Over the next two weeks, Harry spent every free minute visiting Pepper. This evening he sat alone, unable to sleep, and stared into a glass of rum. He had drunk heavily since returning from their last trip. All of the killing and Pepper’s condition preyed on his mind. He felt responsible and the rum helped him cope.
Wanda activated and sat across from him. “Harry, why are you drinking so much?”
Startled, Harry responded with a slur. “I feel responsible for Pepper and the deaths of the men on my project. Every time I close my eyes, I see their faces. The rum helps ease the pain. I can’t sleep unless I’m half shit faced.”
“Harry, you’re not responsible for their deaths. They all knew this project had great risk, but they believed in what they were doing and accepted it. You never asked them to do anything you weren’t willing to do,” Wanda said emphatically. “You certainly had no control over Lars. He was a radical terrorist. As you once told Pepper, these projects entail great risk, and you have to be willing to accept it, if you want to play. Remember?”
Wanda Page 35
