Lawrence almost laughed at the expression on Johnson's face. He seemed to have no idea how to respond, and Lawrence knew he had the man off balance. Time to twist the knife a little more.
"Did you really believe that you were taken for some purpose of significance?" Lawrence asked. This time he did have to laugh at Johnson's confused look. "You were nothing - just available. I needed subjects and nobody would miss a dead man." Lawrence continued to laugh. "Oh, Mr. Johnson. . . . If you could see your face. What an extraordinary inflated sense of yourself you must have. You are a man who crawled out of a gutter. How could you have seriously believed that I considered you anything other than insignificant?"
Steve's look of confusion turned to a glare. "The insignificant lab rat," he said.
"Exactly." Lawrence had to chuckle again. The man finally understood. "You were born nothing and you 'died' nothing. If it weren't for Captain Donovan over there, you would have died for good and nobody would have even known or cared."
"You're wrong, Alamain."
Lawrence was surprised to hear Shane speak up. He turned to see that Shane had finished his futile efforts to find an opening in the gas chamber. He was now just watching Lawrence and Steve, still with that annoying look of defiance on his face.
That will be gone soon, Lawrence told himself. Soon Donovan will be begging for mercy.
"I'm wrong, you say," Lawrence said, amused by Shane's bravado. "And how, pray tell, am I wrong?"
Shane shook his head. "You said nobody cared about Steve and whether he died, but you're wrong. You weren't here. You didn't see the effect it had on people." There was a tone to Shane's voice that Lawrence disliked. It reeked of condescension. "You're so obsessed with your name and your father, but you don't get it," Shane said. "It doesn't matter what your name is or who your parents are; what matters is what you do with your life. Steve has done more in his life to make a difference in people's lives than you can possibly imagine. When they thought he died, this entire city mourned."
"And I'm supposed to be impressed by that?" Lawrence asked. It actually was fitting that Salem would honor gutter trash like Johnson. "Not that it matters. This city will soon have much more to mourn."
As if on cue, the video technician entered the room. "We have word, sir, from the police radio. They are reporting an incident at the Salem Spectator. Mass casualties from some type of gas."
Lawrence looked at Steve, whose eye had widened and jaw had opened at the shock of the report. "Jack. . . ." Steve said, his voice trailing off.
"Just the opening salvo, actually," Lawrence replied. "You see, I learned that Katerina had been tasked with a secret project, which appeared to involve stockpiling large amounts of anti-venom." He turned to Shane, who, if he had been surprised by the report, stared stone-faced through the plexiglass walls of the chamber. "You don't seem surprised to hear about that, Captain Donovan. But, no, I suspect you were responsible for that plan. How ironic that the you were uniquely positioned to save this city, but your ISA colleagues chose to destroy you for political expediency - with Mr. Johnson's help, of course."
Shane just looked back and said, his voice surprisingly calm, "Carly has the supplies in place to counteract your toxin. Even as we speak, they are probably giving anti-venom to everyone at the Spectator." Shane looked at Steve. "We were prepared for him, Steve. I'm sure Jack and Jennifer are fine."
The show of confidence unnerved Lawrence. Was it just an act? Did Shane really believe he had the upper hand?
It's time to prove just who has the upper hand here, Lawrence thought.
"Your plan was quite impressive, Captain. I will admit that." Lawrence walked back over to the table where he had his control box and looked down at it. The device had several buttons, but the only two that he really saw were on the top. They were two red buttons next to one another. The one on the right had an "A" and the one on the left had a "B." It was almost too simple. Lawrence picked up the box so he held it in his left hand while he maintained the gun in his right. "Unfortunately, I figured out what the ISA intended to do . . . so I made alternative arrangements."
Lawrence could see a momentary flash of uncertainty on Shane's face, but it disappeared. Meanwhile, from his spot to Lawrence's left, Steve stepped forward.
"Uh huh," Lawrence said, turning the gun toward Steve. "No closer, Johnson."
Steve just glared. "I think you're full of it, Alamain," he said, sneering. "Between the Salem PD and the docs at the hospital, they're going to stop you. You tried to get revenge on Jack and Jennifer, but you failed."
"Not at all," Lawrence said, grinning. "You see. . . . Captain Donovan's plan had the potential to greatly disrupt my efforts. Not that it would have foiled them entirely, of course. Neither Katerina nor any other scientist - no matter how brilliant - could have found a cure for my toxin without proper samples, which, of course, the ISA never obtained-"
"Get to the point, Alamain," Steve growled.
Lawrence laughed. "Oh, you are an impatient sort," he said. Almost like a child. "But very well. The gas being released at the Spectator is not my toxin."
"What?" That came from Shane.
"That's right," Lawrence explained turning to face Shane. "In the off-chance that you managed to guess correctly, there was a possibility that your stockpiled anti-venom could be used to possibly arrest some aspects of my toxin. I could hardly have that happen. My prospective buyers must see the precise effects and qualities of the weapon they are purchasing."
Out the corner of Lawrence's eye, he saw Steve shake his head. "What the hell are you talking about?"
But Lawrence could tell that Shane understood. "It's a decoy, Steve. Whatever they're using at the Spectator is a decoy. Carly's giving out the supply of anti-venom to cure people who were exposed to a decoy gas."
"Precisely, Captain," Lawrence said. "You are quite the tactician. . . . But you underestimated me. The gas being released at the Spectator is run-of-the-mill nerve agent, potentially lethal if untreated, but hardly as effective as mine. Yet Katerina is now exhausting her stores of antidotes to treat the targets of the decoy attack, which will leave nothing for the true targets."
"You're sick, Alamain," Shane said.
Lawrence chuckled. "Always with the insults, Captain Donovan. And now that that part of the discussion is over, it is time to move on to the final stage in this drama." He looked at Shane and then turned to Steve. "And since you are here, Mr. Johnson, it is time for you to play your part."