"My part?" Steve asked. He looked at Lawrence and wondered what type of further insanity the man had in store for them. "Dude, if you think I'm doing anything to help you, you've got a few more screws loose than even I thought you had."
Lawrence responded with that smug smile of his - the one Steve desperately wanted to wipe off his face with a few well-placed punches.
"You see, Mr. Johnson, this entire event has been orchestrated to provide a grand demonstration of my new invention." Lawrence still had the gun trained on Steve and held his control box in the other. Out the corner of his eye, Steve saw Lawrence's man leave the room. Obviously, he thought his boss had everything under control. So, apparently, did Lawrence, who said, "Of course, you had some experience with the early version of the toxin, which I can assure is far more effective or, I should say, far more lethal in its present form. And now, when it is used on the true target, the entire world will see just how lethal it is."
As Lawrence gloated, Steve stole a glance in Shane's direction. He had stopped looking for a way to escape from the plexiglass enclosure and was just watching Lawrence. Steve could tell that Shane was trying to control his emotions, even as he asked, "What's your true target, Alamain?"
"Ah, Captain, I was hoping you would ask that question," Lawrence said, spinning around to face Shane. "After all, it was your nemesis, Mr. Winters, who made me realize how effective a target it would be."
Steve saw Shane's expression change. His eyes widened slightly and his mouth formed a small O. As the realization crossed Shane's face, it also hit Steve.
No, he can't mean it. Steve looked at Lawrence in shock. "You can't-"
"But I can, Mr. Johnson. What would hurt Salem more than the deaths of its most innocent?" Lawrence asked. "And when the world sees Salem mourn its children, the entire world will tremble. My toxin will be the most feared weapon in the world. Just the threat of its release will force governments to their knees. Salem Elementary will be just the first step."
Shane slammed his hands against the wall of his prison. "Alamain, you can't. . . . My son is there. They're just children."
Lawrence turned and smiled again. "What? Is that the great Captain Donovan begging? Didn't you assure me that would never happened?"
"Please, Alamain," Shane said. "You want me, fine. Just. . . just don't hurt those children."
Steve watched as Lawrence preened like a strutting peacock. Obviously, there had been some exchange earlier between Shane and Lawrence, and what Shane had just said struck Lawrence as some kind of victory.
With a sly laugh, Lawrence looked down at the control box in his hand. "Perhaps I was a bit hasty," he said. "And this is precisely how Mr. Johnson can provide an exciting addition to our little drama."
Steve glared as Lawrence turned to face him, but he caught a look from Shane that told him to play along. "All right, Alamain . . . go ahead. What 'addition' can I provide?"
"You are such a classic antihero, Mr. Johnson." Lawrence chuckled as he paced back and forth in front of Steve. "But this truly presents a great cinematic opportunity. You see, I am thinking that you should be given a choice - yes, a true choice of life or death." He held up the box in his hand. "As you can see, this box has two red buttons at the top. On the right - Button Number One - which will release the gas at Salem Elementary. On the left is Button Number Two, which controls the gas contained in the canisters connected to the chamber currently occupied by your good friend Captain Donovan."
Steve shook his head. "You sick son of a bitch," he muttered in a low voice.
"It's up to you, Mr. Johnson," Lawrence said. "Choose Button Number One and you can save the man who saved your life. But if you do so, all of those innocent little children will die. Or you can choose Button Number Two and save a bunch of little brats you don't know and we can both stand here and enjoy watching Captain Donovan take his last breaths." Lawrence smiled smugly again. "As I understand it, the process is extremely painful."
Steve stared at the remote control in disbelief. "You can't be serious," he said.
"Of course, I'm serious," Lawrence replied.
I won't do this, Steve thought. He wouldn't just choose to let someone die. Besides, it wasn't like this was a real choice anyway. Steve knew Lawrence's game.
"I'm not going to play your stupid games, Alamain. Whatever 'drama' you're trying to make, I'm not playing along. That's not me, remember. I'm the 'insignificant' guy."
"Actually, I thought that was why it was such an interesting idea," Lawrence said. "Captain Donovan must have made life-or-death decisions plenty of times in his life, but you . . . you're just the insignificant everyman, what would they call you in the movies, the 'average Joe.' So leaving such a momentous decision in your hands seemed like true cinematic irony."
Steve snorted. "Take your 'cinematic irony' and shove it."
"Very well," Lawrence said. "I guess I'll just kill them all."
"Wait!" Shane cried out from the plexiglass enclosure.
Steve looked at him and their eyes met.
"Steve," Shane said. "You have to. They're just children."
Steve felt his stomach lurch and thought the entire room began to spin. He wanted to be sick, but he steadied himself before he faced Lawrence again.
Lawrence stood, that smug grin even broader than before, the remote control raised almost like he was lifting a glass for a toast.
"So which will it be, Mr. Johnson: Option One or Option Two?"