Chapter Eleven

Vickers walked back to the lab where Connor was now joined by Nelson and Crane. He listened at the door before making himself known, determining the best time to do what he intended to do. His resolve was already set, this project belonged to him and Nelson's name would nowhere be found in the credits. As he listened, his hand rested on the pistol in his lab coat; it was made of steel and should have been cold to the touch, but it burned against his hand as if urging its use. He listened as Nelson bullied his way back into the experiment, and gullible Connor capitulated to his suggestions as if the man could walk on water. Crane was leaving... good, he'd deal with the two separately; it would be easier that way.

# # # # #

Harry and Lee made their way to the lab finding only Connor, they couldn't leave yet; not when they weren't sure Lee's body still had enough infected cells to initiate an unwanted, and most certainly, deadly hibernation should he venture outside. So, Harry thought the only logical thing to do was to keep themselves busy until they could leave.

"Admiral Nelson, Captain Crane," Connor greeted warmly, obviously feeling much better and exhibiting a pleasant personality that was completely missing before, as his mutations had drastically affected his demeanor and actions.

"Good morning Connor. What is that you're working on?" Harry asked with polite interest.

"I'm continuing the analysis on the mystery chemical, unfortunately the only way to study it is in its irradiated form under the microphobe," he added.

"That does present a problem," Harry said, taking a seat in clear scientist thinking mode. "Perhaps it would behoove you to allow a sample to thaw in a controlled..."

"You mean, instead of in the Winter Room under simulated spring conditions, where the chemical dissipates before we can study it?"

"Yes. I'm afraid the nature of the chemical is to dissipate once the frog has successfully thawed, you would have to find a way to keep the sample in a semi-frozen state long enough to study it."

"That would be the trick," Connor said thoughtfully. "As it is, our window is limited, which is why we use the Ice Box to hold our samples until use," he added, tilting his head to a small freezer box on the table.

Harry was fully aware of the small unit as he had used the box to store his samples between viewing as well.

"Hmmm," Harry voiced in thought, turning the unit and examining the freezer controls. "Tell me, do you have another unit just like this one?"

"Yes, we have back-up equipment for every vital part of the experiment. I'm afraid when you live hundreds of miles from the nearest procurement office, you have to think ahead," he said with a grin.

"If Dr. Vickers would allow me to adjust your spare unit, I think I could adjust the settings, if you have precision tools on hand that is," Harry offered, making his suggestions from a guest stand-point and careful not to take the lead on a project that wasn't his.

"I'll speak with him, but it sounds like a good course of action," Connor agreed.

"Admiral, if you don't mind, I think I need to retire to my room for a little while," Lee interrupted, looking uncomfortable at the moment.

"Of course, Lee. Are you alright?"

"I will be, Sir," he assured and nodded to Connor in polite farewell as he turned to leave. He held his side and walked cautiously, feeling another battle coming on inside and hoping that the war would soon be won.

Lee made it all the way to his room before the first real cramp hit and headed for his bed, grateful for the chance to lie down. He was just curling up when the unmistakable sound of gun-fire caused him to bolt upright in his bed. He jumped up and ran back for the lab when the second shot was heard. His body's aches took a back seat to the obvious danger as he ran through the halls, ignoring his cramps and finally bursting in the door.

# # # # #

Vickers watched from behind another door as Crane walked away, he'd wait until the captain was incapacitated in cramps and then take care of him. Right now, it was Nelson's turn.

"Dr. Vickers," Connor greeted warmly. "Admiral Nelson has made a fine suggestion..." his words were stopped in mid-thought as Vickers pulled the weapon from his pocket and aimed it squarely at Nelson.

"Move away from the Admiral, Connor," Vickers ordered.

"What... what's going on?" Connor asked taking a step toward Vickers.

"Don't you see what he's doing, boy?" Vickers asked venomously.

"He's only trying to help..."

"He's trying to steal the project away from us. He already has plans to pull the project from me, isn't that right, Nelson?"

Harry was standing by now, holding his ground but cautious.

"We both know that you have a lot of questions to answer regarding your assistant's death," Harry replied, getting to the point that he knew Vickers was speaking of. "And the fact that you infected Crane has to be dealt with..."

"You see?" Vickers accused cocking the pistol, his eyes burning with the need to end Nelson's threat to his life's work.

"No, Dr. Vickers!" Connor pleaded but he was too late as Vickers pulled the trigger. Connor turned toward Nelson watching a blossom of blood grow on his side as the Admiral fell against a cabinet, grasping for his wound.

"You'll have no claim to the project, Nelson! I swear it!" he yelled taking aim once again as Connor lunged for the scientist.

"No, Doctor! You don't know what you're doing!" Connor yelled, restraining his gun hand as the two struggled for the weapon.

"Out of my way, boy! I've got to do this!" he pleaded madly. The two fought for the weapon as Connor managed to subdue Vickers' gun hand. "He wants to steal you away from me too!" Vickers added, grunting as he fought and finding that with Connor recovering, he was getting the upper hand. He made one final effort to tug the gun away when the sound of another shot filled the lab, reverberating off the walls and deafening all other sounds in the room as he looked into the shocked eyes of his young protégé. The next sounds were equally deafening, as the gasps of a man shot at close range filled the air.

# # # # #

Lee burst in, spotting first Harry who was by now on the floor holding his bloody side, and then Vickers, hunched over Connor and rocking him back and forth, the smoking gun lying beside him, forgotten for the time being. Lee secured the weapon first placing it his belt, then cautiously made his way over to Harry, assessing the situation even as he moved.

"Admiral!" Lee called, looking for something to stem the bleeding.

"It's not bad, Lee," Harry said through painful breaths. "But Connor..."

"Hold still, Admiral," Lee urged, reaching for a stack of towels he saw through the glass cabinet. He applied a compress and placed Harry's hand over it to apply pressure. "I'll be right back, Sir," he said moving toward Vickers and Connor.

"Why did you do that?" Vickers cried, rocking Connor back and forth. "Why? Everything I did, I was doing for you!" he sobbed.

Lee placed a hand on Vickers' shoulder and cautiously pulled him away.

"Dr. Vickers, let me see if I can help," Lee said firmly, separating Vickers from Connor so he could look at the wound. Lee sighed as the tell-tale sign of dramatic internal damaged was present with significant blood spilling out of Connor's mouth. Lee reached for the pulse at his neck, but as he already suspected, found none. Reluctantly, he moved his hands over the young man's wide open eyes and gently pulled his eye lids closed... Connor was dead.

"No!" Vickers said, pushing Lee away trying to go for the gun stuffed inside his belt.

Lee had no choice but to issue a strong upper cut, sending Vickers sprawling across the floor, out cold.

Harry groaned as Lee turned back toward him, concerned at the amount of blood even with the direct pressure.

"I'm... sorry to see him die," Harry lamented. "He was a good young man," he added, using far too much energy, and realizing that Connor's personality while mutated wasn't the boy's true demeanor.

"Don't talk Admiral, you're not okay, you need help," Lee said, going into command mode. A moan from Vickers interrupted any argument Harry might have as Lee turned toward the scientist trying to fight his way to consciousness.

"I need a place to secure him," Lee said thinking out loud and having no idea where a good length of rope might be.

"The root cellar... has a latch," Harry offered airily, having spent a little time in the galley.

"Alright," Lee agreed, pulling the gun from his belt and leaving it for Harry.

His eyes said, "Don't argue with me." Harry was too weak to do so anyway as Lee moved toward Vickers, picking him up by the shoulders and dragging him out of the lab, toward the galley.

He opened the root cellar and picked Vickers up by an arm across his shoulder, hurrying the waking scientist down the steps. Instantly, Lee felt the 56 degree assault him, he laid Vickers down and noted the supplies in the corner, including blankets and figured the scientist could find his way over to warm himself, then hurried up the stairs and shut the hinged door, latching it closed.

Lee shivered, but mostly at the realization that the cold air could invoke the hibernation process if he stayed any longer. He drew the back of his hand across his mouth and moved toward the radio room to see if he could repair the equipment and call for help. Unfortunately, the radio was missing a key component, which he noticed right away and slammed his hand down on the table in frustration. He didn't have time to tear the complex apart looking for the part, not with Harry's current condition. He took a deep breath and knew what he needed to do. He thought about going back and telling Harry what he was going to do, but thought better of it. The Admiral would never approve and he was going to do it anyway, so he headed to the arctic entry.

The cramps he was ignoring took that moment to present themselves more as Lee doubled over against the wall, riding out the pain that was proof he was still infected inside with the non-human cells which had mutated him into a half-frog like creature. When the pain subsided enough to stand straight up, he proceeded, undaunted by the chance he was taking. Once in the arctic entry, he geared up, pulling on snow pants, his large cold-weather parka, gloves, and sliding his feet into the bunny boots, his military grade snow boots. He took a deep breath and glanced at the thermometer... twenty-two degrees below zero. At this point it didn't matter whether it was thirty below or above zero, either would put him in hibernation mode if his insides didn't know he was a human, not an Alaskan Wood Frog.

The decision wasn't a hard one; he wouldn't let Harry die when he had a chance of saving him. All he needed to do was make it to the hangar, which by now it would be toasty and warm, turn on the radio, and issue a medical emergency call, then if his body decided to freeze him... so be it.

He took another breath and then opened the door, turned on his torch, lowered his head against the cold and walked briskly to the hangar. The air was frigid but calm, no wind and thankfully no snow storm. He looked up to see a night sky filled with millions of stars, filing away the beauty for a later time when he could appreciate it. He made it to the hangar and breathed a sigh of relief that any lingering frog cells hadn't succumbed to the cold on the way. He hurried to FS1 and took off his gloves to enter the security code. Another cramp seized him, but he bore up, ignoring the pain and stepping inside. Quickly he turned switches and watched with satisfaction as FS1 lit up in life. He grabbed for the throat mic and wrapped it around his neck, then made his call as the frequency was already dialed in from earlier communications.

"This is Commander Lee Crane at the Cryogenics Laboratory Outpost, do you read me Elmendorf?" he said, calling the Air Force Base in Anchorage.

An efficient radio operator answered right away.

"This is Elmendorf, go ahead Commander, I read you loud and clear."

"Elmendorf, we've got a medical emergency here. I've got one wounded, one dead and one incarcerated. I need an emergency medical evacuation, ASAP."

The operator repeated the request and then kept Lee on the line as she relayed the request to the duty officer.

"This is Lt. Farley, Commander Crane. We're mobilizing a unit as we speak, can you give us more information as to your condition there?"

"I've got a strange story to tell you," Lee said, talking even as he was working through some uncomfortable cramps. "But right now, I need a medical team, Admiral Nelson has been shot. I have the perpetrator in custody locked in a root cellar, but the Admiral's bleeding badly."

"Very well, Commander. Can you stand-by the radio for further instructions?"

"Negative lieutenant, the radio in the complex has been damaged. I'm making this call from my aircraft, but I need to get back to lend aid to the Admiral."

"Very well, Commander. Assets will be rolling shortly."

"Very well, Lieutenant, Crane out."

Lee pulled off the throat mic, then turned off the radio and the power. He exited the flying sub, entering the security code, just in case, and donned his gloves once again. He knew the wise thing would be to stay in the warm and safe hangar and wait for help to arrive. So far, his body hadn't shut down on him, and he had no guarantees what would happen when he made his return trip to the complex. Resolutely, Lee zipped his parka completely up, pulled his fur-lined parka hood over his head and headed for the door; Harry was still in the complex and needed his help, it was a no-brainer as far as he was concerned and reached for the door.

The cold air assaulted him once again as he reached to turn on his torch, but paused a moment before turning on the flashlight at the fantastic sight of the green and yellow lights of the aurora dancing overhead. He barely had time to notice their beauty, pushing ahead to hurry out of the elements before something went drastically wrong inside.

To say he was relieved when he reached the arctic entry was an understatement as he shut the door behind him and quickly divulged himself of his gear. He had made it. Lee hurried back to the lab and found Harry unconscious on floor. He felt the Admiral's head, relieved he wasn't in shock, but the wound had bled entirely too much. Lee rushed to the sleeping quarters, and pulled several blankets and pillows from an unused room and returned. He added another compress to his wound and then covered Harry, tucking the blankets in tightly and placing a pillow under his head for comfort. He doubled the other pillow and gently raised his feet, the standard treatment to prevent shock, then used the other blanket to cover Connor.

Harry's moan brought him back over to his side as Lee dropped to his knees.

"Admiral?" he called softly.

"Where'd you go?" Harry asked, apparently aware of how long Lee had been gone.

"To make a radio call, help is on the way," he replied evenly.

Harry's eyebrows tightened in confusion.

"You... you fixed the radio?" he asked, surprised since he had already determined it was unusable without the missing part.

"Not exactly," Lee said, checking Harry's compress and applying more pressure, eliciting a slight gasp from the Admiral.

"You mean to say... you went out in below zero weather to make the call... from FS1?" Harry asked, using way too much breath and more energy than he had to spare.

Lee looked up, offering a thin one sided-smile and shrugged to which Harry scoffed.

"That look may work... with the ladies in the office," Harry admonished, "but it doesn't work on me."

Lee's smile broadened, following the Admiral's lead for a little light-heartedness.

"Yeah it does," he replied as Harry worked to keep a moan in.

Lee's smile faded to instant concern. "I'm going to find Vickers' first aid supplies. Will you be alright?"

Harry waived him off without speaking and closed his eyes, the bullet hit something important inside; he had had too many personal experiences to not know the difference between an unfortunate, if not inconvenient gunshot wound and a serious one.

He must have dozed off, because Lee seemed to return just as quickly as he had left and was now busy field-dressing the wound.

"Sorry," Lee said as Harry grimaced slightly. "I don't want to mess with this much, the bleeding has slowed down and the medics will be here soon to take care of it properly," he explained as he applied gauze and taped it closed, then sat down next to Harry, glancing toward Connor.

"It's strange. His personality was so different when he was infected," he mentioned as Harry nodded his agreement.

"I noticed that too... he was actually very likable," Harry noted.

"I passed by the galley; Vickers is making a ruckus, but I checked the latch and the door will hold." Lee lowered his head in thought for a moment. "What makes a man do what he did, Admiral? He used Ryan as a human guinea pig and was directly responsible for his death in my book, then he doesn't bat an eye about doing it again to me? When I heard the shots, I had no doubt it was Vickers... I just wished I had made that call to Elmendorf sooner, maybe Connor would still be alive," he lamented.

"I doubt it, Lee," Harry said, holding his side as Lee turned toward his voice. "You asked what drove him? A variety of things; none good," Harry said answering his own question. "Greed, jealousy, self-importance, paranoia that he'd have to share his work with anyone else, unchecked ambition... you name it. He wanted me dead, and I have no doubt you were next, because he was afraid my part in finding the cure would overshadow his own work." Harry stopped to breathe and rein in his pain, he was tired but found he needed to talk as much as Lee.

"He was determined to restore Connor back from the hideous creature he created," Harry continued. "But in the end, it wasn't the monster he created that was the most frightening... it was the monster within him that he couldn't tame. That's what killed Connor, Lee," Harry added as Lee dipped his head and nodded in agreement, both men silently contemplating the tragedy.

Harry was talked out and very tired as he allowed himself the luxury of falling asleep, away from the pain as Lee settled against the cabinet. He still wasn't feeling well from his own ordeal, but was more overcome with the tragedy they had unknowingly walked into when they agreed to visit, and furthermore, forced to play a part in due to Vickers' maneuvering. His legs were bent at the knees as he rested his forearms on top, protectively watching over the Admiral as they waited for the medical evacuation. Beside them lay the shrouded body of Connor, witness to the strange tale they had to tell once help arrived.