Lawrence frowned as he stared down at the dead guard. Now that he thought it through a little more, it probably had been a mistake to kill the guard. He had already been down to a skeleton crew, with just Ivan and the two guards. His momentarily lapse in foresight had cut his manpower by one-third.
He could still accomplish his goals. It just required a little revising of his plans, but everything was still manageable.
"Sir?" asked Ivan. Lawrence turned to see his subordinate waiting for instruction. The remaining guard had Shane in a close grip and was again holding the gun.
"Take him to the set," Lawrence ordered. The guard pulled Shane and Ivan followed with the video camera running once more. Lawrence smiled as he thought of the condemned man's walk to his place of execution. A truly dramatic moment in what would be finally broadcast to his potential buyers.
Lawrence followed the procession down the corridor to the security room. Shane had not seen the set yet. When he had been brought in, unconscious, Lawrence had made a decision not to reveal anything. He wanted the camera to catch the true look of surprise when he realized Lawrence's intentions.
In the security room, he turned and followed Ivan and the guard toward the set.
"Wait," he called out. Ivan and the guard stopped and Lawrence stepped past the guard, who was holding Shane securely, and Ivan, who had been walking backward while filming. "I want to see what the camera sees," Lawrence said.
His eyes focused on Shane as he and Ivan backed into the room at the end of the hallway. Lawrence had to stop himself from laughing as Shane's eyes widened briefly as he saw the structure on the opposite side of the room.
Turning, Lawrence looked as well. The clear plexiglass cylinder was a feat of engineering. It was about 12 feet high with a door that formed a perfect airtight seal. Next to the door was a small box with a lever that activated and deactivated the seal. On top of the cylinder, a long, clear pipe twisted out of the roof of the cylinder and ran about five feet away from the cylinder before dropping down to two large canisters on the ground.
"You're bloody insane," Shane said.
Lawrence laughed. "Genius and madness have always been confused by those of middling intelligence. . . . You lack the capacity to understand."
"What's so hard to understand?" Shane asked. "It's a gas chamber. Stick someone inside, turn on the gas. . . ."
"You say that so lightly, Captain." Laurence chuckled. "You would have made a good actor. But jokes are pointless now. We both know it's just a false front."
Now it was Shane who laughed. "Is this when I'm supposed to beg for my life?"
"Of course not. I never expected you to beg for anything," Lawrence lied. "This is when you're supposed to die."
Shane shook his head. "Killing me won't change anything. You are still nothing compared to your father."
Lawrence started to respond, but then remembered the camera filming. "I'll just edit out that line. Let me explain, Captain Donovan. This film will be sent to people around the world. Not only will they shudder at the effectiveness of my weapon after what it does to Salem this morning, but they will see, up close, what it is like to die from it. Your death will be seen by millions of ordinary people who will quake in fear. And it will be seen by my customers, who will realize that just the threat of that kind of death will send countries to their knees."
"You are bloody insane." Shane glared at Lawrence.
"Oh, that's good," Lawrence said. "Defiant to the end." He looked at Ivan. "Put him inside."
Ivan walked over to the door and raised a lever on the control box. Lawrence heard the hissing sound as the pressure seals released. Then Ivan reached for the clear handle on the door of the gas chamber. The guard pulled the door, shoved Shane inside, and closed it shut. Then Ivan pulled the lever down. The seals hissed again as they closed. Ivan checked a gauge on the door and nodded at Lawrence.
"Right now, Captain, you are getting normal air that is flowing through the vent at the top of the chamber," Lawrence explained. "When the time comes, that vent will seal and we will open the canister containing the oxygen." Lawrence smiled. "I couldn't have you suffocate before the toxin takes effect, could I?" He walked over to counter that had previously served as part of the final lab and pulled open one of the drawers that ran its length. Lawrence reached inside and pulled out a small rectangular device. "A remote control," he said as he held it so Shane could see. It had two raised buttons that Shane could see. Lawrence studied it. "All I need to do is press this button." He pointed at the one on the left of the remote. With a triumphant smirk, he looked at Shane. "How does it feel to know that your life turns on this little button?"
Shane said nothing. He just watched Lawrence with a look that displayed no emotion.
"How magnificently stoic," Lawrence said. He had to admire Shane just a little. "It will make your screams even more convincing. I should apologize. The process appears quite painful."
When that received no response, Lawrence shrugged. He had other things to think about. He turned to the remaining guard. "You had better go. I don't want to get behind schedule." At least, he had not killed the guard who would plant the decoy toxin. That was almost fortuitous.
The guard began to leave, but stopped when the other man in the compound came running in. The video operator reported that there was someone outside the trailers. Lawrence glanced at Shane. He was secured in the gas chamber. He could not escape.
Lawrence looked at Ivan and the guard. "Let us see who is paying us a visit." They left the room with the gas chamber and quickly made their way down the corridor to the security room with the video monitors.
Ivan reached the room first. "You were right, sir."
"Of course, I am," Lawrence said.
On the screen, Steve Johnson stood immediately outside the trailer. He stared into the camera and held his arms out. "I'm right here, Alamain," Steve yelled. "I know you want me, so here I am. Come on out and get me."
Ivan looked at Lawrence. "Your orders, sir?"
Lawrence smiled and pulled a small caliber handgun from his pocket. He turned to the guard. "Make sure Mr. Johnson is unarmed and then head to your target." Still smiling, Lawrence looked at Ivan. "And once Mr. Johnson is unarmed, please escort him inside. We have quite a lot to discuss."