Stephenson Strikes Back
I gradually became aware of the world around me. First was the feeling of cold metal under my body, then the sound of motors working and the odd, lurching feeling of the table moving underneath me. I tried to open my eyes, but I didn’t have the will. My body still would not accede to my commands.
I heard her worried voice, muted by the sounds of the medical machinery.
“Is he going to be okay?”
“I really don’t know, I’ve never had a subject degenerate so far. But, I’ve also never had a subject survive so long.”
I lay there thinking about those words. I might be okay and I might not. I took a deep breath to try and clear my mind. My lungs filled with air, but then my throat revolted. I coughed, a sputter at first and then convulsively. My throat and mouth were parched. It felt like I’d kept them open for days in the desert.
As I recovered from my apoplectic coughing, Anka was at my side. I felt her warmth and heard her voice.
“Are you okay? Do you need anything?”
I fought the urge to repeat her question and slowly formed words of my own.
“Water.” Okay, just one word.
“Get him some water,” Anka commanded Grosskopf.
In a few moments they were holding me up and putting water to my lips. I still couldn’t force my eyes to open. Anka noticed the same thing.
“Why won’t he look at us? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know for sure, but it could be a defensive response. His brain was nearly overwhelmed by the mirror neurons’ input. Visual input is the most rich and powerful, so his brain might be shielding him until he recovers.”
I tried again to open my eyes. I was barely able to get a crack of light to show through. It stabbed my head with pain. I must’ve gasped because Anka was right there cradling my head and brushing my temple with her hand. Why did the best moments with her also have to be the worst?
“Do you hear that?” Grosskopf asked.
“No, what?”
“I’m not sure. Hold on.”
I heard him walk out. Anka never stopped stroking my hair. I felt her lips on my forehead and then something wet dripped on my face.
“The alarm is off. They must’ve discovered the drones and fixed it. We don’t have much time to get out of here.”
“How can we? We can’t leave him here?”
“If we don’t move, we’re trapped and we’ll probably be killed. Well, you two will be killed. I’ll be imprisoned and forced to work for them. People will just think I’m dead.”
I swallowed hard and forced my eyes open just a crack. It was agony but I gritted my teeth and kept my eyes open. Words felt foreign on my tongue, but I forced them out.
“I can make it. Help me up.”
I saw Anka turn to me with a wide smile, but when she saw my face something made the smile fade. She warred with herself for a moment before helping me up to a sitting position. Dizziness threatened to overwhelm me for a moment, but the world slowly stopped spinning. I put one foot on the ground and then the other and pushed off of the table. Anka was next to me and helping me the whole way. I loved her attention and hated that she had to see this weakness.
We walked over to the anteroom where our clothes were piled on the ground. Anka helped me out of my gown and handed me my shirt to put on. I slowly maneuvered the task that I’d been able to do for decades. We both decided that I’d need a chair to help me with my pants. I sat while Anka lined up my pants and then helped me stand to pull them up. I sat down while she put my socks on me. With a glance we decided that no shoes was better than one shoe and tossed the lone Chuck Taylor aside. I looked over to see Grosskopf in the doorway watching the procedure.
“He’s going to get us both caught.”
“Probably.”
Anka turned to pick up her skirt and sweater and looked pointedly at the doctor. He didn’t understand her meaning for a moment so she just closed the door in his face before dropping her gown and putting her clothes back on. It encouraged me to feel my body’s response to her gorgeous form. Things were, slowly, getting back to normal. I just hoped that it would go fast enough for us to get away.
“Do you think we can make it out the service entrance?” I asked Anka.
“Maybe, but that’s all the way at the top of the facility. We’d have to make it through a lot of people to get out undetected.”
“You think everyone is back in already?”
“I don’t know,” she pulled on one boot, “But the more of the facility we go through, the greater our risk.” She pulled on the other and got up. “You ready?”
Shakily I got to my feet and took a couple of slow steps toward her. She reached out to help me but I waved her off.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“I hardly think that’s the case, but it’ll have to do for now.”
We stepped out into the lab to see Grosskopf and Stephenson shaking hands. The ambulatory manatee looked back over his shoulder with an oh-shit expression and quickly ducked behind the director. He chuckled with the amusement of a parent for a child scared by a living scarecrow in a corn maze.
“They were bound to find out eventually, Doctor.” Stephenson’s voice grated with smoke, liquor and age. His tall frame showed the signs of past strength faded to mere fitness. His face, however, was that type of anti-Dorian-Gray where every year added brought distinguished grace and handsome attractiveness. His well-tailored suit added to the look of confident virility while the salt and pepper hair at his temples communicated sage experience.
“How long?” Anka asked simply. My brain was still catching up with the turn of events.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Stephenson smiled with his lips, but not his eyes, “Since the beginning? Maybe a bit before. Come now, Agent Fedora, you’ve learned much in your first assignment. Certainly you’re able to put together all the pieces by now.”
“I think I am, Director.”
“Good, I’d hate to have to take the time to explain it all to you like some sort of Bond-villain wasting time until the hero can enact a plan to escape.”
“That would be so terrible for you.”
I really wanted to scream out: I need you to explain it to me! But it didn’t seem like the most prudent move at the time. I looked around to see if we had any options. Grosskopf cowered behind Stephenson, looking at us over the taller man’s shoulder. Anka stood two steps in front of me and Stephenson blocked the door from the lab to the hallway. I stood just inside the doorway to the fMRI machine. There was no way out that didn’t go through Stephenson.
One thing stood out to me though. The director was here alone. He’d sent men after us in the past, but now he was by himself apprehending us.
“I guess you’ll have to take us into custody,” I said taking a few steps forward to stand next to Anka. “It’s been a merry chase, but you’ve beaten us. Let’s get this over with.” I put my hands out in front of me, ready for cuffing.
It started slowly, the laugh of a man truly amused and deeply frightening, then it built until Stephenson was full-on, head-back, belly laughing. That’s what I thought.
“Oh, you’re too funny. Custody. That’s a good one. No, there’s no custody for you. Sorry about that. We need the doctor, but you don’t really help us.”
“How could I not help you? I’m proof of the work. Won’t Congress want to see evidence of your success?”
“Pshh! Congress? What makes you think I’m working for Congress? No, this is far more profitable than anything Congress could offer me.”
“Did I miss the memo where they announced that the NSA was no longer under the oversight of Congress?”
“Are you really this dumb? Anka put it together easily. No, little man, I have a deal with the Iranians. They need a way to spy that can’t be tracked by any mechanical or electronic method. This is the perfect solution. And I get lots of money for it.” He laughed again.
I repeated his last words, starting with the part about the Iranians. I included the laugh at the end. The expression on his face went from smug to confused to terrified to homicidal in the course of seconds. I felt my own face twitch as it attempted to follow the emotional journey. It took me a moment to get my healing body moving, but Anka had figured out what I was doing.
When Stephenson was focused on me mimicking his voice, she started moving around to his right side. As soon as I was done and the director decided to kill me, she leapt into action. Stephenson reached inside his suit to grab at his gun, but his vanity meant the buttoned jacket obstructed the weapon. He took a second to maneuver the gun out of its holster and that was enough time for Anka to cross the lab and hit him in the arm.
Anka’s not small for a woman, but Stephenson is large for a man. She was overmatched. He grunted, but didn’t fall or drop his gun. I groped in my mind for the Krav Maga response to a man with a gun across the room. Dive for cover and pray was the first response. Unfortunately my heart wouldn’t obey my brain. Anka’s danger overrode the instinct to hide. I found myself charging straight for Stephenson with no plan or fighting moves cued up. I may have peed a little.
Anka hit him again and then kicked him in the knee. He grunted and stumbled a bit, but then swung his pistol in a vicious backhand and knocked her aside. She spun around once before crumpling to the ground. Rage exploded in my head. I found Agent Mustache’s spear-tackle in my mind and used it. I drove Stephenson back into Grosskopf and both of them into the door jam. Unfortunately Doctor Manatee cushioned the blow for the Director. Grosskopf fell in a heap, but Stephenson started hitting me on the back and shoulders with the butt of his gun and his left fist. It hurt.
I had my arms wrapped around his waist and my shoulder in his stomach. This was close to a jujitsu position, but vertical. I tried to improvise and moved from there into the full-mount position that MMA fighters strive for, except I was hanging on him like a monkey on Jack Hanna. He stumbled and fell back on the pile of Grosskopf behind him. It wasn’t a perfect take down, but it would have to do. I punched at his face, but his arched back turned my blows into ineffectual taps. It also kept him from being able to hit me effectively.
From here, the Krav Maga training on disarming had a lot more application. I targeted his gun hand and, after a few tries, successfully knocked it away. My focus on the gun, however, gave Stephenson time to slide out from under me and get to his feet. While I scrabbled on the floor toward the pistol, the director walked up to me and kicked me in the face. It hurt a lot.
I spun away from the next kick, more from instinct than any training. Blood flew from my nose and mouth. I lay on my back with my head next to Anka’s as Stephenson bent down and retrieved his gun. He pulled the slide to chamber a round and slowly walked over to me.
“Nice try. Now it’s over.”
I stared up the barrel of his flat, black pistol and heard him flick the safety into the off position.
Dead to Rights
There are few positions less comfortable than lying on a cold, concrete floor with the blood from your nose and mouth draining down your face and the back of your throat while looking up at a gun. I don’t recommend it. It’s not choice.
I was out of options so I closed my eyes. Given the option I decided to not watch the bullet that would end me. After a long moment I expected to be dead, so I was surprised to open my eyes to see Stephenson pulling out his phone. It was buzzing in his hand even as he flicked through notifications.
“Shit, the evacuation is over,” Stephenson said over his shoulder to Grosskopf. “We need to get them out of here and dispose of them later. Do you know how to use a gun?”
“Uh…I think so.”
“Good enough. Take this. The safety’s off so don’t accidentally shoot yourself.”
“Um…”
“Take them to the stairs and up to the service entrance where you came in. There’s a storage locker off the main loading dock. Put them in there and lock the door. Report to my office when you’re done.”
“Uh…”
“And put the gun away when you’ve locked them up, my agents won’t like you having a weapon out. I’d hate for you to get yourself killed after all this.”
“Oh…”
“Just go.”
With that, Stephenson kicked me in the ribs and walked out the door tapping and flicking at his phone the whole way. Grosskopf pointed the gun at me while I groaned and writhed on the ground. Turns out being kicked in the ribs also is quite painful.
“Get…um…get up.”
I slowly rolled over onto my hands and knees. I looked over at Anka for a moment and then struggled to my knees. I put one foot on the ground and used that leg as a brace to push myself up onto my other foot and into a standing position. I turned and looked at the mouth-breathing traitor and just sighed. He lost man-points.
“Here, you’ll have to help me get her up. I don’t think I can carry her on my own.”
“Um…”
“Just come on. I’m too beat up to care right now and she’s unconscious. I’m actually looking forward to being locked up for a while so I can rest.”
I walked over to Anka and reached down to grab one of her arms. It was limp and lifeless in my grip. I struggled to pull her up and slung her arm over my shoulder. I stumbled and struggled forward toward Grosskopf and the door.