PROTOTYPE 26
By Heck



Comments to heck@beadyeye.me.uk

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

A cordon of black-and-whites surrounded the entire block. Red lights flashed
on a dozen vehicles and the big, square, ominous shape of a SWAT van squatted
across the street like an ugly black toad on steroids. The rooftops were lined
with marksmen, and behind every car cops crouched with guns cocked. Some were
tooling up, getting ready to storm the building, and it seemed like the whole
District of Columbia Police Department had turned out for us. From my hiding
place, behind the big, open lobby doors, I could see a man with a bullhorn
getting ready to speak.

"Beat him to it", Lucy suggested. She was standing behind me, well out of
sight, with the unconscious form of Ted Sumner draped over one shoulder. She
was quite tall, but Sumner was a big man. His fingertips almost brushed the
floor behind her.

"Hold your fire!" I yelled in dramatic fashion. "We're coming out!"

Just as we had planned, I positioned myself at Lucy's back and cocked my empty
gun. I picked up the Senator's lolling head by the hair and inserted the
muzzle between his teeth, trying to wear as menacing an expression as I could.
We sidled into the doorway, giving the cops a grandstand view of Sumner's
apparent predicament.

"He's OK!" I shouted. "For now. He's alive, but unconscious. You can see that
if you shoot Lucy or me, he won't be that way for long". I could see urgent
muttered conversation going on between the cops. They knew that, if they
fired, reflex action would tighten my finger on the trigger.

"I'm Captain Grogan", the cop with the bullhorn announced. "What is it that
you want?"

"Hello, Captain Grogan. We're just going to take the Senator for a little walk
through this beautiful city of yours. You and your men are welcome to come
along with us. Keeping a respectful distance, of course".

More muttered conversation. Grogan signalled to the SWAT team, who fanned out,
ready to surround us as we moved slowly down the steps. I kept my eyes darting
across them, trying to look desperate, which was less difficult than it
sounds, willing them to believe we meant business.

At the foot of the steps Lucy hitched her burden to a more comfortable
position and stood waiting for Grogan to make the next move.

"I want to send in an officer, to make sure that what you say is true", the
Captain called. "I have to be certain the Senator is still alive".

"Let him come", I said.

"But unarmed", Lucy qualified. "I want to see that he's unarmed before he
comes near. This is no time for heroics".

Grogan nodded to his man, who stepped forward, pointedly and visibly placing
his weapon on the ground. He put his nightstick next to it and held his hands
high, turning in place to prove that he was harmless.

"Unfasten the vest", I demanded. "I need to see that there's nothing
underneath".

He shot a quick glance to his superior, who nodded gravely. The cop pulled
open the velcro at the sides and raised the Kevlar body armour, proving that
he had no concealed weapons beneath. Then he approached us cautiously, his
eyes never straying from the gun I still held in Sumner's slack mouth.

A sizeable crowd was gathering outside the ring of police officers, and I
could hear mumbled comments. I heard the name 'Lucy' and the words 'TV' and
'Europa', and I knew Lucy had been recognised. That could be for good or ill.
If they decided Lucy was a threat or even that they wanted to pitch in and
help, we could lose control of the situation. There was also the fact that Ted
Sumner was, as far as the general public were concerned, a well- respected and
popular politician. This could turn ugly.

The cop satisfied himself that Sumner was OK, and signalled the same to
Grogan. Miraculously, three TV helicopters had materialised overhead.

"How're you holding up?" I whispered to Lucy.

"Fine", she nodded. "You?"

I said I was fine, too, but I lied. My whole body was trembling, and I was
fighting an urge to vomit. Surrounded by the ring of blue-clad cops, bristling
with weaponry, was not the most relaxing place to be and I could scarcely
recall ever being so scared. A glance upward showed me snipers positioned on
the rooftops, and I knew that one bad move on our part would result in sudden
and violent death.

"All right". Grogan's voice was tinny through the bullhorn. "Where do you want
to go?"

"The White House" Lucy said, in tones she might have used to say she wanted to
take a stroll to the Mall. "Why don't you call ahead and tell the President
we're coming?"

"You aren't going to any White House".

"Sure we are. Just tell President Lydon that Lucy Radovic is taking her up on
her invitation to get better acquainted". Lucy started out, walking
purposefully but cautiously, making no sudden movements. I tailed along
behind. "You boys can come with us, if you want".

Of course, there was no question that they wouldn't. We moved along the
street, the epicentre of a circle of cops with their guns trained on us, and a
rag-tag bunch of on-lookers keeping pace to see what would happen.

Sumner's office was close to the river, and our route took us through West
Potomac Park and past the Lincoln Memorial and the Reflecting Pool, and
several national monuments, but I never noticed any of them. The first I knew
that we were coming to our journey's end was when the cop ring backed up into
the railings outside the impressive colonnaded building and we came to a halt.

"OK", Grogan said. "White House. We're here. But this is as far as you go".

One of several black-suited Secret Service agents appeared at his shoulder and
whispered in his ear. Grogan did a perfect double-take and stared at the man,
incredulity writ large on his jowly face. They spoke together for a minute,
Grogan looking more and more anxious while the suits remained impassive.
Finally, Grogan threw up his hands in resignation and shook his head.

"Looks like you're welcome", he sighed. "But the gun stays here".

At Lucy's nod, I removed the gun from Sumner's teeth and held it high. With
exaggerated care I removed the empty clip, and laid the gun at my feet.

"It was never loaded", I told Grogan. "It was just our insurance policy".

Grogan looked so frustrated I think he might have shot us both right there, if
not for two Secret Servicemen who moved to flank us. One of them made as if to
take the Senator from Lucy, but she stopped him with a hand on his chest.

"Thanks, but I'll keep him, for now. He stays with us".

The suit hesitated for a moment, pressing a finger to his earpiece as he
received instructions. He nodded and, together with his partner, escorted us
through the high wrought iron gates and across the immaculately manicured
lawns.

It was my first time inside the White House, but there was no time for
sightseeing. We were ushered directly to the Oval Office, where Jennifer Lydon
sat behind the huge leather-topped desk tapping a pen against her teeth and
wearing a stern, angry expression. The suits stayed close at all times.

"Madam President", Lucy said respectfully. "It's good to meet you at last".

"I might have said the same", the President said, placing her elbows on the
desk and steepling her fingers. "Under different circumstances. I should have
you both arrested on charges of kidnap and assault, but I'm intrigued to
discover what you're up to. I suspect you wouldn't have brought the Senator
here in such dramatic fashion without a good reason. Believe me". She held up
a silencing hand as Lucy opened her mouth to speak. "It had better be a damned
good one. Put him down and talk fast".

Lucy lowered Sumner onto a chair and, standing almost to attention in front of
the presidential desk with the evening sun slanting through the panoramic
windows behind the sixty-ninth President of the United States of America,
limning her glossy black hair with a halo of light, we told our story. A story
of deceit and betrayal that all pointed to Sumner being the instigator and
director of everything that had happened to Lucy since she had been discovered
floating in space.

We were nearing the end of our tale when Sumner began to stir. He sat up,
shaking his head groggily, looking confused for a moment until he recognised
his surroundings.

"What the hell? Madam President! Be careful!" He made to stand, but Lucy set
her jaw and fixed him with a steely gaze and he thought better of it. "Be
careful. That woman is dangerous".

"So are you", the President said, regarding her subordinate with a grim
expression. "If what these people have been telling me is true you are guilty
of gross misconduct, if nothing else".

"What? I was acting in the best interests of the country!" Sumner protested.
"Just think of the benefits, both military and social, if we could duplicate
this woman's enhancements. Our armed forces would be unstoppable! People would
be healthier, live longer".

"There are those", I put in, "who think people live long enough as it is".

"Just think", Sumner continued as if I hadn't spoken. "This could be the
greatest nation in the world if we could do for others what the aliens did for
her".

"This already is the greatest nation in the world", Lydon interrupted. "In
case you'd forgotten. And as far as medical research is concerned, Lucy had
already agreed to make herself available in that area, so the only benefits
would be military ones. That is unacceptable. And I seem to remember, Senator,
that you have fingers in several different pharmaceutical and weapons
manufacturing pies. It seems to me that you would stand to make a tidy sum, if
such industries could get their grubby hands on Lucy".

"Madam President, I don't know what you're talking about".

"I think you do. This President is not so naive as to let things get out of
her grasp. I had the CIA do some digging. It looks like the anonymous Mr
Charles Bouvier is in the employ of several such companies in the field of,
shall we say, less than legitimate research and development".

That was it! The other shoe dropped! The missing piece. And yet ...

"So you knew all about this all along?" I blurted out.

"Let's just say, I had my suspicions", President Lydon said. She looked at her
watch. In fact, the elusive Mr Bouvier should be being taken into custody
right about now. I'm sure he has a fascinating story to tell". She looked at
Sumner with a grim but satisfied smile. I glanced at him, too. He seemed to
shrink in his chair, a broken man. "At my instigation, an investigation has
been going on ever since you two went missing from the cabin. It's made for a
thick and interesting dossier, and we were almost ready to move. You only
pre-empted us by a day or two".

"I thought you didn't know about the cabin", Sumner said.

"What, you think I don't have my sources? I am the President, after all".

"What about the Santana woman?" Lucy wanted to know. "Where does she figure?"
She had visibly relaxed, relieved that it all seemed to be over at last.

"Assistant Director Santana, or should I say ex-Assistant Director Santana, is
a fiercely dedicated and capable agent of the FBI", the President explained.
"Unfortunately, her dedication to her job is only surpassed by her infatuation
with Senator Sumner, whose bed she has been sharing for several years, now.
Unknown to Mrs Sumner, of course. She is a misguided individual, as it turns
out, but ferociously loyal to the Senator". She beckoned the two agents
forward. "Arrest this man", she said, indicating Sumner. "Get him out of my
sight".

They moved to comply. President Lydon came to her feet and Lucy and I turned
at the sound of a commotion in the corridor outside. Shots were fired and the
men turned from Sumner, reaching for the holsters under their coats.

The door crashed open and, looking wild-eyed and dishevelled, Assistant
Director Santana burst in, gun in hand. She was still a crack agent, and her
first two shots downed the two men before their guns had cleared their
jackets. The muzzle swung at Lucy and she threw herself aside. The bullet
zinged past her, grazing the President's jacketed arm and starring the tough,
bulletproof glass of the window. Lydon gasped as she grabbed her arm and
ducked behind her desk.

Lucy was on her feet and racing toward Santana. But the Oval Office is a big
room, and even Lucy couldn't outrun a bullet. The FBI woman had time to get
off another shot.

Like an underwater ballet, everything turned to slow motion before my stunned
eyes. I yelled out as Lucy was flung backward by the impact of the
nine-millimetre slug that took her in the centre of the chest, a red blossom
staining the front of her white shirt. I dashed forward, but it felt like
running in treacle. Santana stepped toward Sumner, offering a hand to him. I
reached for her, murderous hate and rage overshadowing my knowledge that the
woman was a trained operative. Her foot shot out and slammed into my belly.
The force of the kick carried me back and dumped me on my backside, gasping
for air. Santana stood over me, a sneer of contempt on her face as she pointed
the wicked black eye of her gun right in my face.

Her smug look turned to one of shock and surprise, and I watched her fling out
her arms for balance as she began to topple backward. In my time- altered
state, she seemed to fall slowly and gracefully as a shapely but powerful leg
swept her feet away from under her.

Lucy was still alive! A flood of relief washed through me and time returned to
normal as the realisation filled me. Lucy was still alive!

Santana floundered on her back as Lucy climbed unsteadily to her feet. Her
face was drawn and ashen, but she still found time to flash me a quick smile,
a pale imitation of the familiar brilliance, before turning to the FBI woman
once more.

"Fuck you!" Santana hissed as Lucy advanced on her. "Why aren't you dead?"

She still held her gun, and brought it up. The awful bang was like a physical
blow as she fired. Lucy grunted and staggered as another bullet smashed into
her gut, but still she came on.

"Christ!" Santana's voice held real fear. "Why won't you die?" And she fired
twice more. Lucy's body jerked, a third and fourth hit, but kept her feet.
Kept her feet despite the terrible impacts of the heavy bullets, designed to
bring down a man with a single shot.

"I don't know", she grunted, her voice harsh with pain. "But you will".

Her foot flashed out and kicked the gun from Santana's numbed fingers. The
woman shook her head imploringly as Lucy reached down and grasped the lapels
of her tailored jacket. She hauled Santana to her feet and held her close.

The two women's eyes met. One pair was full of anger and loathing, the other
was filled with terror.

Lucy held Santana's gaze for final instant. Then she brought her hands down
and round in a wide, flashing arc. Her open palms crashed into both sides of
the agent's head, right over the ears. The sound was like another pistol shot.
A bright gout of blood gushed from the woman's nose, splashing down the front
of her shirt, and her eyes bulged in their sockets. Her hands fell to her
sides and her jaw dropped. To me it looked like her whole head was flattened
slightly, side to side, and it was only Lucy's hands, still exerting enormous
pressure, that held her on her feet. Blood from her ears oozed between Lucy's
fingers.

Lucy removed her hands, and Santana flopped bonelessly to the rug. The massive
concussion of Lucy's blow had destroyed her brain tissue, caused an
apocalyptic cerebral haemorrhage, and killed her as surely and instantly as a
bullet to the heart.

I sat in stunned silence as Lucy stared down at the body of her enemy. She
gasped and hunched over, clutching her belly. I was on my feet and at her side
in a instant.

"Lucy?"

She turned and looked up at me. Her eyes actually trembled in their sockets as
she tried to focus.

"Sean? Sean?"

"I'm here". I put my arms around her, a great lump in my throat. She tried to
smile, and I swallowed hard as I realised her teeth were stained red, her
mouth full of her own blood that trickled down her chin. "I'll always be
here".

She leaned heavily against me and I had to brace myself against her weight.
She reached up to stroke my cheek, and even that cost her an effort. There was
no strength left in her once amazingly powerful arms.

"I'm glad I met you, Sean".

I had to swallow hard again. Her words sounded like a goodbye.

"Not as glad as I am to have known you. I love you, Lucy".

"I love you too. I ... oh! Oh, Sean! Oh, God ... "

Her beautiful body, once so vibrantly alive, once pulsing with strength and
vigour, went limp in my arms as her last breath left her with a gently sigh. I
lowered her to the rug as gently as I could, stroking the hair from her face,
her lovely face. Her beautiful, beloved face.

Lucy's eyes rolled up in her head. Her jaw went slack and her hands fell
lifelessly to the floor. I knelt at her side and took one of her unresponsive
hands in both of mine, bending over it, raising it to my lips, gazing down at
her body, shaking my head in disbelief. Her perfect body was marred, cruelly
distorted by the unthinkable insult of four ugly, gaping wounds, any one of
which would have been immediately fatal to any other person.

Jennifer Lydon, President of the United States, came to stand behind me and
laid a comforting hand on my head, gently stroking my hair, sharing the shock,
and I didn't even notice. I didn't notice her at all as I gulped and my
shoulders began to shake.

In the Oval Office of the White House in Washington DC, I threw back my head
and howled like a madman in my grief and despair.