Continued ...

The conference room was on the smaller side, about the size of a living room in the projects near Chicago's east end, she thought. Helena recalled visiting them when she was a girl, accompanying her father – a doctor – on house calls. Not many physicians made house calls back then, even in the early nineteen seventies, but he did. Helena would often assist him when she was not in school and she admired his rapport with the people he helped. Many of those same patients from the projects, those he helped when they could not help themselves, had come to his funeral years later.

Helena struggled to clear her head. Someone once told her when a man or woman knew their end was near they often flashed back on their life. She wondered if that was what she was doing now.

The space Balor held her captive in was comfortable with a round conference table and four serviceable chairs. There were plastic cups near a cool-water dispenser and the compost was out of the way, near a far wall. The Command Center staff never used this room for their conferences. It was a meeting place for the other sections of Alpha; Hydroponics and Technical might meet here if there was an important matter to be discussed that needed a larger area than their chief's office.

All three conference rooms were often opened up for after concert parties, the detachable walls lowered to make one large room. Helena recalled using a double sized conference room, this and the one next door, to teach a sculpting class. She remembered Liam Beaumont urging her to do it, to be creative and help others learn, and she finally obliged. Helena and her ten pupils talked and laughed their off duty time away, pounding clay with their hands, using a potters-wheel and generally make a huge mess but enjoying themselves immensely.

Smiling mildly, thinking of that time just last year, Helena also recalled John poking his head inside the room, checking to see how they were doing but not staying. He had been smart and respectful enough to know that this was Helena's time, her moment to shine as a teacher and work-mate, having fun with their people, and he would not take it from her. Helena's students also seemed to appreciate that their Commander saw fit to leave them be. He was well liked but still their Commander and, even off duty, some would feel oppressed by his presence.

The thought suddenly tugged at Helena's heart. He was generally unwelcome because he was their ultimate figure of authority. It made her pity and love him all the more – although John would hate having her think such a thing. Once she was gone would he shut himself away? Would Tony, Alan or even Maya be able to make John feel wanted and alive? Would he find another woman who could understand him the way she did?

Again, Helena tried to focus. The conference rooms' inclusion in the original Alpha schematic was a nice feature and she hoped their destruction would not be overly missed. Hopefully later, Alpha would be able to build others … and Helena suddenly felt sorry that she would not be alive to see it happen.

Looking out of the window, staring at the surface of the moon, Helena felt tightness in her throat. She prayed John or someone else understood the message she had sent. The destruction of this section, away from the other more vital areas of Alpha, thus not truly harming the moonbase as a whole, might be its only chance to survive. Helena understood her sacrifice and she also knew John would absolutely recoil at the idea. It would be up to the others, their friends and colleagues, to make him see how it had to be. Perhaps convincing their Commander was what was taking so much time. Fifteen minutes had passed since Balor had her call Command Center.

"Doctor."

Helena jumped a little, nearly forgetting Balor was with her in the room. "Yes."

"Are you well?"

She did not answer.

The alien was sitting in one of the chairs, waiting for the Commander, leaning back comfortably and observing her. "Koenig's time is almost up. Perhaps I had overestimated his devotion. A pity."

Helena, again looking out of the window, watched as their laser cannon lifted up from its hiding place and veered slightly, taking aim. She was understood and although resigned and grateful Helena was also suddenly afraid. She lightly licked her lips, took a breath, and awaited her fate.

She was then jarred when she saw a flash of orange approaching from the lunar surface. 'Space suites.' she thought. The men were bouncing as they walked, lifting a hand when they spotted her looking at them. It was difficult to tell but, taking in height and bulk, Helena suspected the two leaders - commanding two men a piece - were Alan and Tony. The two groups were away but on either side of her window - but quickly removed themselves from her vision.

Helena did not know what they were doing but suspected John must have come up with a plan. Now hopeful, she would keep alert.

"Doctor." He was directly behind her, lifting a cup with water and a napkin.

She wondered for a moment if Balor saw the men but he seemed oblivious.

He dipped the napkin in water then brought it to her face, surprisingly gentle as he wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth. "There. That's better. We must have you looking pretty for the Commander's arrival. That is, if he decides to show at all."

"He will." Helena replied, now certain.

[]

It was an intense, frightening and wholly preposterous plan.

Koenig knew everything would depend on split second timing, Maya's natural skill and courage, and also his men's aptitude and, unfortunately, an ability to be ruthless. No matter what Balor said or did they had to keep to the plan. There could be no turning back. If even one of them grew queasy at what was to follow after he rescued Helena, if Maya lost her nerve, all would be lost.

But the Commander was not overly worried. He knew his people. Tony Verdeschi, his security chief, was among the first to firmly say he agreed to the plan and they had no other option. They knew what they were up against.

Pausing very briefly outside the conference room door, taking a breath (and unaware that Helena had used this same technique to focus), Koenig used his comlock to open up and look inside. When he stepped in and saw her he lifted his arms, "Helena!"

She was away from the window, running to him. "John!" It might have been wiser not to display their affection in front of Balor but it could not be helped. Helena was simply so happy to see him, especially if this might be the last time John held her in his arms.

He put a hand on her cheek and examined her bruises, "Are you all right?" he asked. "Did he hurt you badly?"

"No." Her hands rested on his shoulders and her eyes met his, signaling him that she understood why he was here and that she knew he was up to something, "I'm fine. Just a little off my game." she whispered.

"I know." He replied, gently touching her hair.

"So charming." An already seated Balor smiled in mock appreciation. He mimed Koenig and Dr. Russell to do the same.

The couple reluctantly released each other and did as they were told.

"Alright, I'm here." Koenig said, sitting, expression now deadly serious. "What exactly is it you have to say to me?"

Balor never spotted the small flying insect, which had rested on Koenig's pant leg, fly off to wait on the wall near their compost.

Maya awaited her Commander's signal.

As did his men, with their weapons, waiting on the lunar surface.

[]

Sorry for the shortness of this chapter. Busy week and weekend. With any luck I'll have this fiction finished up soon ... Thanks for your comments. They are very encouraging! Becky