The Oscar Five Delta (Part 2)
"Oh my gosh!" Amanda snatched up a phone and dialed furiously. She waited as it rang. "Come on...come on."
"Melrose."
"This is Amanda. I think we have an emergency here. I was talking to Lee on the headset and there was this....crash...and the line went dead."
"Stay right where you are, Amanda, we're on our way."
Billy Melrose flung open his office door and raced across the bull pen bellowing, "Desmond! Richards!"
In the dingy apartment, Lee Stetson lay on the floor, the two Czech agents standing over him. Chebetok poked at him with his toe. "What now?" he asked.
"Now we have two birds in one hand." Vaskov knelt by Stetson, pulled the tranquilizer dart from his chest, quickly patted him down and, finding nothing, stood.
"For about two minutes. He'll have backup on the street and this place is gonna be covered like a dead body."
"Then we'd better get out of here."
"What? We just gonna carry them out? Chebetok asked.
Vaskov shrugged, "Of course. Come on."
Down in the van Amanda fidgeted, fighting the urge to leap from the van and rush up to the apartment. Lee Stetson could be in all sorts of trouble. He could be dying...or already dead. The thought brought her up with a gasp. She was only too aware of how much he meant to her, but she was not prepared for the intensity of the pain that came with the thought that he could be dead. Once before, she had believed him to be dead and it had been terrible then, now it was intolerable. Quickly, she reined in her emotions. "No, Amanda." She said aloud, "Let's not get out of hand. Lee said this is no job for a pessimist." The phone jangled and she snatched it up, "Lee?"
"No, Amanda, it's Melrose. Anything happening?"
"No, Sir. I just...I just don't know what to do."
"You're doing it. We'll be there in five minutes, just stay calm...and stay put."
"Yes, Sir."
She hung the phone up and looked at the apartment building, "Come on, Lee," She pleaded, "talk to me." As she watched the, the delivery men came back out, pushing the same crate. Amanda tilted her head at the scene. They were arguing so loudly, she could hear them right through the walls of the van.
"I told you it was the wrong street!" One of them bellowed as they muscled the crate back down the steps.
In the van, Amanda watched them with nagging suspicion. The two men weren't quite right, but she couldn't put her finger on what was missing. One was carrying a satchel of some kind and she was sure he hadn't been earlier. She turned to the VCR and quickly scanned the surveillance footage back to the original arrival of the delivery men. She froze a frame and stared at it. "Shoes." She said. "The shoes" She looked back out the window. They had loaded the crate and both men were jumping down from the back of the van. One pulled the door down while the other pushed the loading ramp back. Neither were wearing the red high top sneakers. Amanda rose and slipped out of the van. She waited until the two men were opening the cab doors, then quickly crossed the street to the back of the van. The door locked with a simple lever and she flipped it over just as the engine roared to life. The door was counter-weighted and to rolled up easily. She followed it up and into the van. As the truck pulled away, she heaved it back down with all her weight. It slid to a stop a few inches from the bottom and she left it, hoping it would stay.
In the semi-darkness she swayed with the movement of the van. There were a half dozen other boxes and the big refrigerator crate. She lurched across to it. One side had been cut open and resealed with duct tape. When she pulled the tape the box fell open. Lee Stetson sat on the floor, slumped over his knees. Beside him, bound and gagged was a gaunt man, his eyes surprised. He began squirming and making muffled noises. Amanda ignored him and knelt by Stetson, raising his head with difficulty. At least he was breathing. "Lee? Lee?" His eyes rolled open and he gave her a big dopey grin then faded away again. Amanda put a hand to her face and sighed. He was all right. The other man was wiggling around as much as he could within his bindings. Amanda reached over and pulled the tape from his lips. He gasped for air.
"Who are you?" they said it together.
"I'm Amanda. This is Lee. What's wrong with him?" She worked on the ropes that bound the man.
"I'm George Lehman and I don't know what's wrong with him. Drugged I'd say. He was already in the box with they shoved me in. Do you know what's going on?"
"All I know is we were watching the Czech Undersecretary's secretary's apartment and something went wrong and now we're here."
"Is that the condensed version?"
Amanda finished with George's hands and he sighed with relief. He massaged his hands for a few moments, flexing his fingers. "Just hitting the high points, George." She turned back to Stetson and began working on the ropes that bound him.
"Are you CIA?"
"No. How do you fit in here?"
George gave her a skeptical look, "I asked you first. Are you FBI?"
"No. Nothing like that."
"Oh, I see. You just decided to watch the Czech Undersecretary's, secretary's apartment today. What interesting Saturday's you must have."
Amanda finished with Stetson's hands and gently eased him over to lie on his back. She patted his face lightly, "Lee...Come on....come on...."
"Okay, lady, have it your way." He began working on the rest of his bindings.
Billy Melrose stood beside the surveillance van, the side door open. Inside, Francine worked with the video equipment.
"Anything up there, Richards?" He spoke into a phone.
"Nothing up here but our equipment. I don't think we'll be using it anymore."
Melrose slumped. "Not that it will do any good, but go next door and take a look around that apartment."
"Right."
Inside the van Francine had the video tape machine going, "Oh, no." she said. "Billy, I found Amanda. You'd better see this."
Melrose climbed into the van and looked over Francine's shoulder as she played the tape for him. On the monitor, the original van arrived and the delivery men jumped out of the truck and headed for the back of the van. For a moment the video broke up, when it stabilized, Vaskov and Chebetok, dressed as the delivery men walked around the van. And Amanda King walked into frame, raised the door and hopped into the van as it pulled away. Melrose rolled his eyes, "Oh no. Francine, get a make on those plates. I want it found. Now. Something must have made her get into that damn van."
The van moved slowly through the late DC traffic. Inside, Lee Stetson leaned against a box inhaling deeply. "I have a splitting headache." He mumbled, rubbing his face. Amanda, kneeling beside him, reached to touch his shoulder, thought better of it and let her hand flutter away. Even through his haze, the delicate butterfly-like motion was not lost on Stetson. And almost immediately, as one hand flew away, the other floated up and landed on his knee.
"Come on...deep breaths," Amanda coached. She was aware of her hand on his knee, but it reassured to her to have the connection. She wondered if it had any effect on him.
"Who the heck is he?" Stetson inclined his head towards George who was on the floor, peering under the door.
"That's George. He was in the box with you."
"Why were you in the box, George?"
"You first. Why were you in the box?"
Stetson's head ached too badly for him to by toyed with. "I'm a spy, okay? Now, what's your story?"
"George Lehman, I'm a research programmer for the Pentagon...an alpha five oscar."
Stetson threw him a morose look, "Great, just great."
"What's an alpha five oscar?" Amanda asked.
"It's an unofficial designation." Stetson told her, "for someone whose work is so sensitive only two people know what they're working on...that person and their immediate superior." He turned back to George, "Where were your body guards?"
"I lost them in the park."
"You lost them in the park." Stetson shook his head forlornly, "Why did I even ask?"
"I guess you don't want to hear the rest."
"Probably not."
"They have my papers."
"Papers? Papers?" The depressing truth penetrated his foggy brain, "They wouldn't be classified papers, would they, George?"
"Yeah. I had 'em when I left home this morning. It was just so nice, I couldn't resist a spin on my bike and-"
"George. You were bicycling around DC with a load of classified material?"
"Well....I-"
"If this gets any better I'm gonna need a whole case of aspirin."
"Hey, I didn't know I was gonna be snatched."
Stetson swiveled his head slowly towards him, "No one ever does, George."
George went back to watching under the door. "Looks like we've hit the rich neighborhoods." He reported, "Acres of front yard and high fences. We'd better get outta here before it's too late. Can you make it?"
"You and Amanda get ready. I'm going to stay with the truck and find out where it's going. Maybe I can recover those papers."
"In your condition?" Amanda protested.
"I'm feeling better."
"I'll stay." She volunteered.
"No, you won't."
"Okay, I'll stay." George spoke from the floor.
"And you aren't staying either."
"Hey, they're my papers."
Stetson sighed, "This isn't a contest, George. Do you want to spend the rest of your life dancing cheek to cheek with the KGB?"
George considered the information, "Not really."
Amanda looked at Stetson, "How about you? Do you wanna dance with the KGB?"
Abruptly the truck lurched to a stop and outside a muffled conversation started, plainly in Russian. Amanda urged Stetson to his feet, half supporting him.
"I think we're all gonna get to dance with the KGB now." Stetson said.
"Oh my gosh!" Amanda snatched up a phone and dialed furiously. She waited as it rang. "Come on...come on."
"Melrose."
"This is Amanda. I think we have an emergency here. I was talking to Lee on the headset and there was this....crash...and the line went dead."
"Stay right where you are, Amanda, we're on our way."
Billy Melrose flung open his office door and raced across the bull pen bellowing, "Desmond! Richards!"
In the dingy apartment, Lee Stetson lay on the floor, the two Czech agents standing over him. Chebetok poked at him with his toe. "What now?" he asked.
"Now we have two birds in one hand." Vaskov knelt by Stetson, pulled the tranquilizer dart from his chest, quickly patted him down and, finding nothing, stood.
"For about two minutes. He'll have backup on the street and this place is gonna be covered like a dead body."
"Then we'd better get out of here."
"What? We just gonna carry them out? Chebetok asked.
Vaskov shrugged, "Of course. Come on."
Down in the van Amanda fidgeted, fighting the urge to leap from the van and rush up to the apartment. Lee Stetson could be in all sorts of trouble. He could be dying...or already dead. The thought brought her up with a gasp. She was only too aware of how much he meant to her, but she was not prepared for the intensity of the pain that came with the thought that he could be dead. Once before, she had believed him to be dead and it had been terrible then, now it was intolerable. Quickly, she reined in her emotions. "No, Amanda." She said aloud, "Let's not get out of hand. Lee said this is no job for a pessimist." The phone jangled and she snatched it up, "Lee?"
"No, Amanda, it's Melrose. Anything happening?"
"No, Sir. I just...I just don't know what to do."
"You're doing it. We'll be there in five minutes, just stay calm...and stay put."
"Yes, Sir."
She hung the phone up and looked at the apartment building, "Come on, Lee," She pleaded, "talk to me." As she watched the, the delivery men came back out, pushing the same crate. Amanda tilted her head at the scene. They were arguing so loudly, she could hear them right through the walls of the van.
"I told you it was the wrong street!" One of them bellowed as they muscled the crate back down the steps.
In the van, Amanda watched them with nagging suspicion. The two men weren't quite right, but she couldn't put her finger on what was missing. One was carrying a satchel of some kind and she was sure he hadn't been earlier. She turned to the VCR and quickly scanned the surveillance footage back to the original arrival of the delivery men. She froze a frame and stared at it. "Shoes." She said. "The shoes" She looked back out the window. They had loaded the crate and both men were jumping down from the back of the van. One pulled the door down while the other pushed the loading ramp back. Neither were wearing the red high top sneakers. Amanda rose and slipped out of the van. She waited until the two men were opening the cab doors, then quickly crossed the street to the back of the van. The door locked with a simple lever and she flipped it over just as the engine roared to life. The door was counter-weighted and to rolled up easily. She followed it up and into the van. As the truck pulled away, she heaved it back down with all her weight. It slid to a stop a few inches from the bottom and she left it, hoping it would stay.
In the semi-darkness she swayed with the movement of the van. There were a half dozen other boxes and the big refrigerator crate. She lurched across to it. One side had been cut open and resealed with duct tape. When she pulled the tape the box fell open. Lee Stetson sat on the floor, slumped over his knees. Beside him, bound and gagged was a gaunt man, his eyes surprised. He began squirming and making muffled noises. Amanda ignored him and knelt by Stetson, raising his head with difficulty. At least he was breathing. "Lee? Lee?" His eyes rolled open and he gave her a big dopey grin then faded away again. Amanda put a hand to her face and sighed. He was all right. The other man was wiggling around as much as he could within his bindings. Amanda reached over and pulled the tape from his lips. He gasped for air.
"Who are you?" they said it together.
"I'm Amanda. This is Lee. What's wrong with him?" She worked on the ropes that bound the man.
"I'm George Lehman and I don't know what's wrong with him. Drugged I'd say. He was already in the box with they shoved me in. Do you know what's going on?"
"All I know is we were watching the Czech Undersecretary's secretary's apartment and something went wrong and now we're here."
"Is that the condensed version?"
Amanda finished with George's hands and he sighed with relief. He massaged his hands for a few moments, flexing his fingers. "Just hitting the high points, George." She turned back to Stetson and began working on the ropes that bound him.
"Are you CIA?"
"No. How do you fit in here?"
George gave her a skeptical look, "I asked you first. Are you FBI?"
"No. Nothing like that."
"Oh, I see. You just decided to watch the Czech Undersecretary's, secretary's apartment today. What interesting Saturday's you must have."
Amanda finished with Stetson's hands and gently eased him over to lie on his back. She patted his face lightly, "Lee...Come on....come on...."
"Okay, lady, have it your way." He began working on the rest of his bindings.
Billy Melrose stood beside the surveillance van, the side door open. Inside, Francine worked with the video equipment.
"Anything up there, Richards?" He spoke into a phone.
"Nothing up here but our equipment. I don't think we'll be using it anymore."
Melrose slumped. "Not that it will do any good, but go next door and take a look around that apartment."
"Right."
Inside the van Francine had the video tape machine going, "Oh, no." she said. "Billy, I found Amanda. You'd better see this."
Melrose climbed into the van and looked over Francine's shoulder as she played the tape for him. On the monitor, the original van arrived and the delivery men jumped out of the truck and headed for the back of the van. For a moment the video broke up, when it stabilized, Vaskov and Chebetok, dressed as the delivery men walked around the van. And Amanda King walked into frame, raised the door and hopped into the van as it pulled away. Melrose rolled his eyes, "Oh no. Francine, get a make on those plates. I want it found. Now. Something must have made her get into that damn van."
The van moved slowly through the late DC traffic. Inside, Lee Stetson leaned against a box inhaling deeply. "I have a splitting headache." He mumbled, rubbing his face. Amanda, kneeling beside him, reached to touch his shoulder, thought better of it and let her hand flutter away. Even through his haze, the delicate butterfly-like motion was not lost on Stetson. And almost immediately, as one hand flew away, the other floated up and landed on his knee.
"Come on...deep breaths," Amanda coached. She was aware of her hand on his knee, but it reassured to her to have the connection. She wondered if it had any effect on him.
"Who the heck is he?" Stetson inclined his head towards George who was on the floor, peering under the door.
"That's George. He was in the box with you."
"Why were you in the box, George?"
"You first. Why were you in the box?"
Stetson's head ached too badly for him to by toyed with. "I'm a spy, okay? Now, what's your story?"
"George Lehman, I'm a research programmer for the Pentagon...an alpha five oscar."
Stetson threw him a morose look, "Great, just great."
"What's an alpha five oscar?" Amanda asked.
"It's an unofficial designation." Stetson told her, "for someone whose work is so sensitive only two people know what they're working on...that person and their immediate superior." He turned back to George, "Where were your body guards?"
"I lost them in the park."
"You lost them in the park." Stetson shook his head forlornly, "Why did I even ask?"
"I guess you don't want to hear the rest."
"Probably not."
"They have my papers."
"Papers? Papers?" The depressing truth penetrated his foggy brain, "They wouldn't be classified papers, would they, George?"
"Yeah. I had 'em when I left home this morning. It was just so nice, I couldn't resist a spin on my bike and-"
"George. You were bicycling around DC with a load of classified material?"
"Well....I-"
"If this gets any better I'm gonna need a whole case of aspirin."
"Hey, I didn't know I was gonna be snatched."
Stetson swiveled his head slowly towards him, "No one ever does, George."
George went back to watching under the door. "Looks like we've hit the rich neighborhoods." He reported, "Acres of front yard and high fences. We'd better get outta here before it's too late. Can you make it?"
"You and Amanda get ready. I'm going to stay with the truck and find out where it's going. Maybe I can recover those papers."
"In your condition?" Amanda protested.
"I'm feeling better."
"I'll stay." She volunteered.
"No, you won't."
"Okay, I'll stay." George spoke from the floor.
"And you aren't staying either."
"Hey, they're my papers."
Stetson sighed, "This isn't a contest, George. Do you want to spend the rest of your life dancing cheek to cheek with the KGB?"
George considered the information, "Not really."
Amanda looked at Stetson, "How about you? Do you wanna dance with the KGB?"
Abruptly the truck lurched to a stop and outside a muffled conversation started, plainly in Russian. Amanda urged Stetson to his feet, half supporting him.
"I think we're all gonna get to dance with the KGB now." Stetson said.