Chapter 8
2002 October 16, Location Unknown
She grasped her head in pure agony. Red tears ran down from her face, sweat and blood mixing under the strain of what she had done.
She warily reached out to the bag, where she'd stashed al the gear she needed. Reading the display she noted it was exactly seven days backstepped. One week exactly as planned to set up her components to the scheme. It sounded all too rather devious. But she reminded herself that she was only playing at their game. If the agents of the secret government departments felt happy enough imprisoning and scapegoating and killing innocent men, then all that she did was child's entertainment in comparison.
She extracted her weakened body from the wreckage and hoped, no, prayed that this would work.
She felt the bobbliness of the back of her neck, where the tender skin was perforated. Filled with the dark black ink. Her fingers could trace the numbers though she knew them better than anyone should. His numbers. She'd borrowed them as part of her ploy.
04:15 was when he'd died. Now it was midday. She had as little as sixteen hours to get to him, to change his fate. She'd never considered it that before, in all the time they'd dealt with time travel. Fate had never been her term; she was a scientist after all. Fate was not an object. It was cause and effect. What she had to do was work out the cause and exterminate the effect of what had orchestrated Frank Parkers doom. She set a small timer to countdown, placing it discreetly at her side as if to be a pager.
The sleek cars drew up infront of her. The grey suits and soldiers appearing affront. They waved theirs guns at her, a certain fear in their eyes. The suits, glanced ay her, looking her up and down, judging what threat she was.
She gave the front man a sickly sweet smile and announced is a sultry Russian accent "You were looking for me, I believe." She held out the dogtag with computer chip in, swinging it like a treat for a pet. Waiting it seemed for him to beg for explanation.
"Agent smith" he said with a curt nod in her direction. He was even arrogant enough not to believe he had to back his claim up. There was no flashing of a badge to prove it. Or was that simply that they didn't want to admit who they worked for.
"Chrononaut Vukavitch" she replied brusquely. If he had no manners she too would not bother wasting hers on him. He was the enemy here. Only by association but it that was enough for him to act as an object to this.
He stood off and reached out for the metal chain she held. She withdrew it sharply. "I want to make sure you are who you say you are. I want assurances that I will be treated suitably." She eyed him at that, ignoring the voice in her head that pointed out if they knew what she was doing then suitable handling would be more like lead shoes than a comfortable hotel room or the cooperation she expected.
He turned away to her, flipping out the bottom of his cell phone and dialling up what she assumed was his superior.
~~~
At the base she found herself confronted with angry confused faces of the men who'd presumed shutting down the sphere's program was the best thing. They guessed now it wasn't. With the exception of what they missed, which was that she was putting on a show for them. They'd removed the data chip from her possession and were applying logarithms to it to crack it. She'd feigned ignorance at knowing a password, saying that it was such an emergency there that she'd not been able to get the answer. She'd managed to fake tearfully a reply that they were all dead in the time she'd come from and no one had questioned the fact. It had after all happened before in the history of backstepping. She thought of the virus they'd dealt with when Parker had first started. And it hadn't been too difficult to tear up at the misappropriated thought of her friend's injustices instead of the lie she had created.
But now she stood surrounded by the gathering officials in charge. She prayed that they'd swallow the bunch of lies she intended to feed to them. it sounded more plausible than some of the real things that had indeed happened here previously. The only one detail that lacked credibility was her questionable request to visit Hansen Island. It was supped up in the plot of why she had backstepped but she feared that Kline might spot her true intentions.
What was her story though? She went over it in her head. Military fanatics, over-patriotic paranoids who'd systematically infiltrated nearly every out of the way government institutions simultaneously. Drawn even to Never Never Land by the recent activities due to the shutting down and withdrawal of their project. The facts had been easy to draw up, hard to remember though as she was depending on herself alone to provide them.
The data chip you see had nothing of such importance on it. If they did crack it despite the extreme improbability facing them, then she'd be done for. As the chip was illegitimate, full of junk because there was no real disaster. She could have tried without it but an empty chip was pointless and she needed it for the recognition it provided. Yet the decrypted chip would be so incriminating alone that she aspired that it stayed that way past the fourteen hours she had left.
~~~
Kline had faced her through out the meeting, watching incredulously at what she said. But not at her, he failed to know her like he had where she was from. All he was surprised at was what was supposed to have happened. He believed it, she saw, with undue terror on his puffed up face. He almost choked when she'd mentioned that this base had been one of the targets taken, vandalised and held by the rebels. And he'd done something strange when the meeting was over. He'd caught her arm passing out the door and had smiled at her, a look of embarrassed gratitude uttered by his expression.
Right now she sat at her personal laptop, one she had made sure could not be monitored ages ago with the instruction of Ramsey. She scrambled to write the email fast enough. Clicked the attach button eager to finish before Smith and Gresham came back to escort her to the point. Lastly she pressed enter and sighed in relief that this part of the plan had gone purely and solely how she'd dreamed it would.
The door opened and she slightly guiltily looked up. She wiped off the look at the sight of the two twinsetted mediators of the directors. Smith opened to the door for her as she gathered up her belongings. Whilst Gresham proffered a almost welcoming arm as her shepherd.
She smiled at the blonde haired man, glad that they met under less harsh conditions as she herself remembered. And she smiled more so knowing they led her to the plane, to the salvation of America and the deliverance of the lives of three blameless men.
~~
2002 October 16, Location Unknown
She grasped her head in pure agony. Red tears ran down from her face, sweat and blood mixing under the strain of what she had done.
She warily reached out to the bag, where she'd stashed al the gear she needed. Reading the display she noted it was exactly seven days backstepped. One week exactly as planned to set up her components to the scheme. It sounded all too rather devious. But she reminded herself that she was only playing at their game. If the agents of the secret government departments felt happy enough imprisoning and scapegoating and killing innocent men, then all that she did was child's entertainment in comparison.
She extracted her weakened body from the wreckage and hoped, no, prayed that this would work.
She felt the bobbliness of the back of her neck, where the tender skin was perforated. Filled with the dark black ink. Her fingers could trace the numbers though she knew them better than anyone should. His numbers. She'd borrowed them as part of her ploy.
04:15 was when he'd died. Now it was midday. She had as little as sixteen hours to get to him, to change his fate. She'd never considered it that before, in all the time they'd dealt with time travel. Fate had never been her term; she was a scientist after all. Fate was not an object. It was cause and effect. What she had to do was work out the cause and exterminate the effect of what had orchestrated Frank Parkers doom. She set a small timer to countdown, placing it discreetly at her side as if to be a pager.
The sleek cars drew up infront of her. The grey suits and soldiers appearing affront. They waved theirs guns at her, a certain fear in their eyes. The suits, glanced ay her, looking her up and down, judging what threat she was.
She gave the front man a sickly sweet smile and announced is a sultry Russian accent "You were looking for me, I believe." She held out the dogtag with computer chip in, swinging it like a treat for a pet. Waiting it seemed for him to beg for explanation.
"Agent smith" he said with a curt nod in her direction. He was even arrogant enough not to believe he had to back his claim up. There was no flashing of a badge to prove it. Or was that simply that they didn't want to admit who they worked for.
"Chrononaut Vukavitch" she replied brusquely. If he had no manners she too would not bother wasting hers on him. He was the enemy here. Only by association but it that was enough for him to act as an object to this.
He stood off and reached out for the metal chain she held. She withdrew it sharply. "I want to make sure you are who you say you are. I want assurances that I will be treated suitably." She eyed him at that, ignoring the voice in her head that pointed out if they knew what she was doing then suitable handling would be more like lead shoes than a comfortable hotel room or the cooperation she expected.
He turned away to her, flipping out the bottom of his cell phone and dialling up what she assumed was his superior.
~~~
At the base she found herself confronted with angry confused faces of the men who'd presumed shutting down the sphere's program was the best thing. They guessed now it wasn't. With the exception of what they missed, which was that she was putting on a show for them. They'd removed the data chip from her possession and were applying logarithms to it to crack it. She'd feigned ignorance at knowing a password, saying that it was such an emergency there that she'd not been able to get the answer. She'd managed to fake tearfully a reply that they were all dead in the time she'd come from and no one had questioned the fact. It had after all happened before in the history of backstepping. She thought of the virus they'd dealt with when Parker had first started. And it hadn't been too difficult to tear up at the misappropriated thought of her friend's injustices instead of the lie she had created.
But now she stood surrounded by the gathering officials in charge. She prayed that they'd swallow the bunch of lies she intended to feed to them. it sounded more plausible than some of the real things that had indeed happened here previously. The only one detail that lacked credibility was her questionable request to visit Hansen Island. It was supped up in the plot of why she had backstepped but she feared that Kline might spot her true intentions.
What was her story though? She went over it in her head. Military fanatics, over-patriotic paranoids who'd systematically infiltrated nearly every out of the way government institutions simultaneously. Drawn even to Never Never Land by the recent activities due to the shutting down and withdrawal of their project. The facts had been easy to draw up, hard to remember though as she was depending on herself alone to provide them.
The data chip you see had nothing of such importance on it. If they did crack it despite the extreme improbability facing them, then she'd be done for. As the chip was illegitimate, full of junk because there was no real disaster. She could have tried without it but an empty chip was pointless and she needed it for the recognition it provided. Yet the decrypted chip would be so incriminating alone that she aspired that it stayed that way past the fourteen hours she had left.
~~~
Kline had faced her through out the meeting, watching incredulously at what she said. But not at her, he failed to know her like he had where she was from. All he was surprised at was what was supposed to have happened. He believed it, she saw, with undue terror on his puffed up face. He almost choked when she'd mentioned that this base had been one of the targets taken, vandalised and held by the rebels. And he'd done something strange when the meeting was over. He'd caught her arm passing out the door and had smiled at her, a look of embarrassed gratitude uttered by his expression.
Right now she sat at her personal laptop, one she had made sure could not be monitored ages ago with the instruction of Ramsey. She scrambled to write the email fast enough. Clicked the attach button eager to finish before Smith and Gresham came back to escort her to the point. Lastly she pressed enter and sighed in relief that this part of the plan had gone purely and solely how she'd dreamed it would.
The door opened and she slightly guiltily looked up. She wiped off the look at the sight of the two twinsetted mediators of the directors. Smith opened to the door for her as she gathered up her belongings. Whilst Gresham proffered a almost welcoming arm as her shepherd.
She smiled at the blonde haired man, glad that they met under less harsh conditions as she herself remembered. And she smiled more so knowing they led her to the plane, to the salvation of America and the deliverance of the lives of three blameless men.
~~