“The guy that disappeared? I’ve been hearing about that. They think it was Coyotes. At least that is what I heard one of the patrolmen say,” Angie said, and then immediately realized it was not the best thing she could have said.
“Wolves, Coyotes, it doesn’t matter, it is such a horrible way to die. I can’t imagine it. As cruel as it sound, I hope he was dead first,” Lynn whispered, and started to cry.
“Oh you poor dear,” Angie said, letting Lynn rest her face in her shoulder.
“That, on top of your fingers. No wonder you feel disconnected. I would be more than happy to arrange for you to talk to someone,” Angie replied, hugging her and patting her on the shoulder.
“No,” she said, sniffing, “I’m not big on shrinks. I don’t think I could just pour my soul out to a stranger.”
She lifted her head and laughed quickly while crying at the same time, “Then again, I’m doing that right, now aren’t I?” Lynn said, tears running down her cheeks.
“Honey, everyone needs to unload sometimes. It’s what separates us from the wolves, coyotes or whatever you want to call them. That’s what keeps us human,” Angie told her, trying to make her feel better.
“I know. It’s just…I don’t know. He was such a nice guy. I really enjoyed talking with him,” she said.
“I understand.”
Angie placed her fingers in a bowl of ice water and had her keep them in it as long as she could. When she was done with that she took her into the backroom and took an X-ray of her hand. Fortunately, nothing was broken but they would sure hurt for a while she told Lynn. She placed finger protectors on the two damaged ones and wrapped them together.
“Hon, you are going to have to be careful with these fingers. You bump them against something and it’s gonna hurt like the dickens. You need to be really careful when you use that hand,” she warned, “I could put your arm in a sling if you think that would help?”
“No, I don’t want to do that unless it is absolutely necessary, Lynn replied.
“No. It would just a reminder to be careful with them,” Angie said.
“I think the pain will take care of that. Will I lose my nails?” Lynn suddenly asked.
Angie laughed, “Hon, you may be a doctor but that was spoken like a true woman. I’m sorry to say but, yes, I think there is a very good chance you will lose at least one, and probably both. That is usually what happens when they are damaged that badly.”
“Darn. Well, I guess I don’t have anyone to keep them looking nice for anyway,” she said, trying to cheer up.
“I will want to see them again in a few days. We may be able to save your nails if I put a small hole in them. The helps relieve the pressure and can save the nail sometimes. No guarantees, but it doesn’t hurt to have it done and it might help,” Angie said.
She gave her some pain pills and a few sleeping pills to help her at night when they would hurt the most.
“Thanks Angie. I appreciate the medical attention and the chance to get some of this out of my system,” she said.
“Glad to help with both. If you need to talk again, just come on over anytime. You can usually find me here.”
The ride back to S-4 wasn’t as painful as the trip over but it was still agonizing when they hit a dip in the road. When she got back her team met her and all expressed their concern and sympathies. They were a good group and she was glad to have them on her team.
She worked for a few more hours before the pain started to return and then she called it quits and went back to her quarters on Level-5. Just walking down the hall made her think of how close Raymond would have been and what might have been in time.
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
General Devin stood with his hands on his hips looking at the Su-12. He never got tired of looking at it. To him it represented the culmination of years of dreams, disappointments, and setbacks. Now he could see the light at the end of the tunnel and the Su-12 was that light. The craft had been fitted out and programmed. The pilots were trained and ready to go. Tomorrow would be the first test day.
They would practice simple takeoffs, landings, maneuvering, and altitude ascension, staying below 250,000 feet. They would stay both sub-orbital and sub-sonic until all systems had checked out one hundred percent. That would be followed by evaluation of the flight data and if everything was ‘go’, they would do their first orbital burn.
In just a few weeks he would be able to have the BlackStar loaded in the cargo bay and deployed. The specially built tracking station was already operational and it was the only one of its kind in the world. It would be able to track a scrambled signal so that messages could be relayed to both the Su-12 and the BlackStar.
From the BSTS he would be able to send data to aim and fire the weapon with the input of nothing more than a few coordinates, target radius, and photon stream power level. No place on earth would be able to trace where the photon beam had been fired from or by whom. It would become the perfect weapon and General Devin would have control.
He would have only a few more details to take care of once the BlackStar was launched and in orbit. The first would be to take care of the big mouth, Dr. Gimbel. There was no way he could let him get in the spotlight. He would divulge everything in his rush to gain glory.
Of course Devin couldn’t get rid of him immediately in case the BlackStar had a flaw and he needed the good doctor to come up with the solution. Once that was done and the BlackStar was in a stable orbit, the necessity of keeping Doctor Gimbel alive became null. He would become one more body buried out in the desert of Nevada.
Raymond was starting to lose track of the number of days he had been in the cell. He could no longer keep day straight from night and he was becoming more lethargic as the time dragged on. He knew he had to keep fighting it but it became harder with each passing hour.
He was lying on the mattress, trying to calculate how much time it had been when the cell door opened. Three guards came in the room and yanked him out of the bed.
“Now what?” Raymond demanded.
“Just relax and don’t cause any trouble and this will be over with before you know it,” the one he remembered as Jon said.
“What are you going to do?” he asked, but decided struggling would only get him hurt more and his ribs were still sore. It was painful every time he moved.
“Don’t struggle unless you want to get hurt again,” Jon said as the guards tightened their grip on him.
The third guard jammed a needle in his arm and he could feel the sting as the medicine raced through his arm.
“What the hell was that?” he asked but got no reply.
He could feel his head getting dizzy and within seconds he was starting to feel his legs getting rubbery.
“What was that…” he tried to say as the room started to spin.
He could feel himself slipping into unconsciousness. His head slumped forward with his chin resting on his chest. They dragged him over to the bed and laid him down with his arm stretched out to the side.
“Let get this over with. I don’t like this one bit,” Jon said.
“Me either but the general said to do it, so we’ll do it.”
“That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
Raymond slowly drifted back into consciousness and immediately realized something was terribly wrong. He slowly raised his head off the mattress and felt a bolt of pain run through arm and smash into his brain.