by Ward, Steve
Scott sounded pissed, “I want to know what you two have been up to.”
He bent over and looked directly in her eyes. The last time she saw those eyes at close range, she was breaking and entering. What are we up to? We’re up to our ass in alligators, that’s what. She tried to keep a poker face and not respond too quickly.
“What do you mean?” Like a teenager caught red handed by an infuriated parent, she tried to look innocent and shift the conversation. “And what’s he doing here?”
“Mr. Hussein says someone broke into his apartment last week, and I just wondered if you two knew anything about it.”
“Me?” Christina feigned bewilderment as she tapped her fingers on his desk. “First I’ve heard of it. How ‘bout you, Twinky?”
He was too shocked to respond, “Uhh. . .”
She jumped back in. “Not even on the rumor mill. Why, what happened?”
The Director looked as though he sensed a weakness in Michael. “Well Twinky? What do you know?”
Christina took a deep breath and tried to slow her thumping heart. She crossed her fingers that Michael had the balls to hold up. He looked quite pale and skittish. After a couple of awkward moments, his appearance began to transform. All of a sudden he shifted from white faced, scared shitless, to red faced and enraged. His head appeared to swell, and he looked like a volcano about to erupt. Oh no. What’s he gonna do? she winced.
Michael stood, stepped over to the Director and put his extended forefinger on the man’s chest. “I know one thing,” he said, turning his head sideways, “Rhani here is a Muslim. He has Sunni connections. He swears by the Quran, hates Americans. and he’s a goddam traitor! And if you ever put him on another shuttle mission, I’ll personally rip your fucking eyeballs out. You had better get me back on 7-3-4, or you will wish you had.”
Holy shit! Christina almost fainted. So much for the mild mannered nerd. She had never seen him so angry. The once meek nuclear physicist looked more like a Canadian Mounty coming to the aid of a helpless damsel tied to the tracks. She was shocked Michael would confront Scott with such ferocity and, at the same time, she was afraid of what might ensue. What if he spills the beans? Holy shit!
“Those are pretty serious charges, Twinky. And may I ask how you came by such information? I believe you’re jealous of this young man and upset because I took you off the mission.” Scott suddenly looked like a light bulb went on over his head. “If you didn’t break into his apartment how did you learn he has connections in Iran?”
Michael turned to Christina and smiled like he had just discovered gold. Then he turned back to Scott with the austere look of a prosecutor. “I didn’t say he had connections in Iran, but you did. I said he was connected to Sunnis. Let me ask you, Sir! What on earth would make you say such a thing?”
“Uh. . .I thought you. . .” Scott looked confused and started yelling, “I want you two to leave this office right now!”
“Bullshit!” Christina said flatly. Now she moved up behind Michael ready to join in. That asshole should be hung from the rafters.
“Let’s see?” Michael pushed Scott backwards with his finger and summed up his case. “Rhani Hussein was vetted by NASA, and you had final approval of the process. If he had connections in Iran, only you and the CIA would know about it. And you cleared him for missions involving Iranian satellites. I’m afraid to say, that’s very suspicious, Director.”
“You don’t have the clearance for such information, son. You’re in deep trouble. I can have you arrested,” Scott picked up his phone.
Michael knocked the phone away and grabbed him by both lapels. He lifted him off the floor and slammed him against the wall. “You filthy piece of scum. You’ve compromised everything good about this country, and let this Jihadist on the inside. Why would you do that, Sir?” He slammed him again. Scott’s reading glasses flew off, and his eyes bulged out in fear. “Why would you let Rhani fly on a mission that targeted an Iranian satellite? I’d say you’re the one in deep shit. I might even kill you myself.”
Christina was stunned and, at the same time, so proud of Michael. He was unbelievable, fearless, and she didn’t care what happened. Michael was absolutely right.
“Security!” screamed Scott at the top of his lungs. His face contorted in fright, but Michael wouldn’t let him go.
Rhani stood up and pounded on Michael’s back. Christina would have none of that. She pounced on Rhani like a starving lioness. The entire stack of human flesh fell to the floor as her bodyguards ran into the room and jumped in the melee. It looked like the Jerry Springer Show where the big guy separates all the swinging exes while they scream at each other. She lashed out at Rhani one last time and sent a fist into his face.
He fell back looking dumbfounded, blood running out of one nostril, and whined, “That hurt!”
Once the dust settled, Scott found his breath, “I won’t give your accusations the dignity of addressing them. I called you in here because General Wallace asked for a meeting with the two of you to discuss DROID patent rights.” He reached up and wiped the blood from one side of his mouth. “For some unknown reason he wants to meet at Fort McPherson in the Judge Advocate’s office at 4:00 pm on Thursday.” All of a sudden his eyes lit up like he just discovered how to get rid of them. “No screwing around; I want you to fly commercial with security to Atlanta, then get back here on Friday afternoon. I intend to launch a full investigation of the break in, and I’ll want to talk to you some more on your return. Now, not another word said, get out of my office.”
Neither Christina nor Michael responded; they were still fuming. They had to be restrained as the guards drug them toward the door.
Before they could exit, Scott spoke again, “I don’t want any more talk about traitors or threats. You two had better get your shit together, or you’ll be out of NASA for good. Now, go get your travel orders.”
Security pulled them out of the room and pushed them down the hall.
Christina looked over at Michael and chuckled, “Way to go Dudley Do-Right. If I ever get in a bar fight, I hope you’re there.”
Michael looked at her with a smile. “He pissed me off.”
“I can tell.”
* * *
Along with four bodyguards the two young astronauts sat in the waiting area at Houston International Airport for Delta flight 336 to Atlanta. Christina thought, What a pain to fly commercial. They could have flown their trainers in half the time. Both she and Michael were still reeling over the meeting with Scott and didn’t know exactly how it would settle. The flight was delayed, and they had to wait almost three hours in the airport. Patience not her virtue, she hated nothing more than waiting. Waiting for a shuttle launch was bad enough, but waiting for a commercial flight was torture. She just refused to eat at any restaurant where the wait was more than five minutes. If there was a line for the movies or anything else, she would just go home. But more than anything else, she hated waiting for airplanes.
“Dammit, Michael, this really sucks.”
He calmly looked up from his book. “Settle down Madonna and see how the common folk live. You know, I hate to tell you this but the world doesn’t always revolve around Christina Matthews.”
“I don’t know how anyone can stand all this. The plane is right there, I could spit on it from here, but where’s the friggin’ crew? Why don’t they just let me fly the damn thing?”
“Take it easy,” he tried to calm her down. “Here they come, just relax. You can’t always be in the driver’s seat you know.”
It was an interesting twist. Three male flight attendants and two female pilots walked to their gate toward the secure access door. The flight attendants were chattering like a gaggle of hens. Sweet, Christina chuckled. The pilots looked sharp in their formal uniforms. One had short brown hair pulled up and the other had long blond hair, right down her back.
“My God, times have changed.” She poked Michael in the side and nodded toward the crew. “I hope those girls
know what they’re doing.” She immediately felt guilty for even thinking it. Sorry ladies, way to go, more power to ya.
“So much for hitting on the stewardesses,” Michael laughed. “Think I’ll hustle the pilots.”
“Easy there big boy; you’ve already got the best goddam pilot you’ll ever meet.”
“I do?” He looked at her and rolled his eyes. “What happened to ‘I’m not ready?’” he said with a snarl. “Hey, I’m a free man, and blonds have more fun.”
“Well then, get your ass over there and hustle them dick-head!” Christina snorted like a pissed off third grader.
“Just kidding. My oh my, did we get up on the wrong side of the bed, Miss Grumpy?”
“Sorry, I just can’t stand sitting around airports. If they don’t get me on that plane pretty soon, I’m gonna rip their tits off.”
Finally, the flight was called, and in a few more minutes they were aboard.
What a cattle car, Christina thought. Her long legs barely fit in the small space between the seats. Just as she got comfortable, the lady in front tried to push her seat back. Christina leaned over, “Sorry ma’am, you have to keep it forward until we take off.” She looked over at Michael and showed her disgust, “Mooooo.”
He just rolled his eyes and went back to his book.
Michael was at the window, and she had the aisle, thinking they were lucky to have the only empty seat in between. She started to relax and spread out when it happened. Just as they were about to close the door, a sweaty salesman type, a huge guy about three hundred pounds stumbled in with two overstuffed bags. Christina looked around, and the plane was full. Oh Jesus, Lord, no, please no!
Huffing and puffing, the Jolly Green Giant, made his way down the narrow aisle banging his bags into the seats. People on both sides parted like the Red Sea. He made a beeline for Christina, pointed his stubby fist and grunted, “Mungh.”
She took off her belt and wiggled into the aisle. The man squeezed in and spilled over on both sides jamming Michael up against the window. Christina sat back down, leaned hard right and tried her best to find her seatbelt. Uh oh, shit, it’s a wedgie. “Excuse me,” she said. “My belt is somewhere in there, pointing with her eyes.”
He raised his right butt-cheek, almost climbing into Michael’s lap, and she got a glimpse of something shiny.
“Would you get it, please?” she asked politely.
“C’aint. . .c’aint see,” he answered.
No choice, she went for it like reaching into a beehive. When she settled into her half-seat, she almost gagged with the acrid smell of B-O. Looking at the itinerary, she wondered, How long can I hold my breath? As soon as they left the runway, the lady in front released her seat and rammed it back full force. Ungh. . .yeah, this is fun. She leaned toward the aisle and tried to relax as fat-man began coughing, spraying fumes like an exploding water balloon. My God, sounds like he’s got TB. She looked at the male flight attendant silently begging for mercy.
“Sorry ma’am,” he read her mind, “it’s a full flight.”
Besides the fact there were two crying babies nearby, the flight was fairly smooth and uneventful. With no checked luggage they went straight to Ground Transportation at Atlanta Hartsfield and were picked up by Col. Jim Richards in a military courtesy van. The drive to Fort McPherson was only about ten minutes. Christina didn’t know exactly what to expect so she carried a briefcase full of notes on DROID and a sealed envelope containing evidence on Director Scott. When they entered the JAG office, they were lead down a long hall to the Judge’s chambers in a rather plush conference room. The security team talked into their sleeves and positioned themselves on either side of the door.
She pulled the door shut for some privacy. “Michael, would you please scan the room while I organize my notes? I want to make sure there aren’t any bugs crawling under the furniture.”
“Good idea,” he agreed. “I should’ve thought of that.” They were alone for about five minutes as he worked his way around. He was under the conference room table when the door flew open, and he banged his head with a start. “Ouch!” he shouted, crawling out on all fours.
A little nervous, Christina also jumped when Wallace entered the room behind her. He carried two, Top Secret patent applications with some Government forms and appeared happy to see her. She glanced at Michael and tried to cover. “Lost his contact.”
“Never mind,” Michael said rubbing his head, “I don’t really need it.”
“Christina, my dear, I’m so glad you made it safely. Hello Michael. These are dangerous times. By all appearances it looks like you are well protected.”
“Yeah, it’s a pain in the butt,” she chortled.
He sat down, put his hand on hers and gave it a squeeze in a friendly gesture. She was a little put off, because she had read in an old management book how such touching was used by senior managers to establish parental-like authority. She still didn’t know what to think of Wallace, but she would have to decide pronto.
“I hope you two are doing well.”
“I was beginning to wonder why it was taking you so long to contact me,” Christina said.
“I wanted to make sure the time was right.”
“But isn’t time critical?”
“Damn right it is, but when you’re talking about overstepping the President, every precaution must be taken.”
“What do you mean, overstepping?” Michael looked concerned.
“Listen carefully. We will very soon be faced with a clear but difficult choice, either a nuclear cataclysm in the United States or a Coup d’etat. Let me ask you Mr. Jacobs, which would you prefer?”
“My God, General,” Christina gasped, “I never agreed to any such thing.”
“Well, that’s why you are here. But, before we get into all that, let’s justify our meeting by signing over the DROID rights to the Air Force.”
“Wait a minute. DROID’s my baby. What exactly does the inventor get out of this? It could be worth billions.”
“Don’t worry, you will be justly rewarded, uh that is, just like any other Government employee. Let’s see, what is it these days? Ah yes, it’s in the regulations. The standard award is $100 for the application and $100 when the patent is issued. You have two patents here so that would be a total of $400. Now don’t spend that all in one place, Miss Matthews,” he chuckled trying to make a joke.
She laughed. “Are you kidding me? I’ve got three years of my life tied up in this thing.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Wallace explained. “It’s law. All the work was done under government funding, and the patents were applied for in your name while you were an employee of the U.S. Government. The paperwork here is a mere formality. You are to look over and approve the technical aspects of the applications and sign the rights over to the Air Force.”
“And if I don’t.”
“Simple, NASA would be forced to fire you, and the Air Force would sue. You probably don’t remember all the forms you had to sign for those research grants. You already agreed to this, years ago.”
“Guess that’ll teach me to read the small print.” She could only chuckle at the idea of signing over billions of dollars in technology for a measly four-hundred bucks. Luckily she didn’t need the money. She did a quick scan of the patent applications, read the claims and signed the forms. “Now let’s quit wasting time and talk about. . .well, you know. By the way, how do I know this room isn’t bugged?”
“Christina, you’re a very smart young lady. Do you think I would use the term Coup d’etat in a room that was bugged? I already had my people check it out. It’s squeaky clean, and you can be sure our conversation is private. Didn’t you call your dad about me?”
“Yeah, I called him. He said he hadn’t seen you for fifteen years, but he thought you were a true patriot.” She looked over at Michael. His eyes rolled as if saying, Why the hell didn’t you tell me?
“Okay,” Wallace said, “let’s get busy. First, we need to know w
hat you found in the Director’s mansion.”
Christina looked back at Michael like, I told you so. He turned white as a sheet.
“I’m not admitting anything, General. But let’s just say we had some information; why should we give it to you, and what would you do with it?”
“Fair questions,” he acknowledged. “William Pearce, the Joint Chief of Staff, has told me in secrecy that if we can show absolute proof that ties Hussein to Scott and Scott to the President, he’ll take whatever action is necessary to protect this country. We already have circumstantial evidence of a conspiracy. All we have to do now is get Scott out of the way, put some DROIDs in orbit and take out that Soyuz 23. So far the President refuses to take these obvious measures, and you are well aware of the consequences. Need I say more?”
