He lowers his eyes towards Parks and hisses, “A puss like you ain’t worth getting my hands dirty on. Let’s go.”
Parks stands. He looks down at his white slacks--no longer white.
Chapter 4
Inside the LA Fitness Center, during the day, but not so busy, Vicki rides a Precor Elliptical machine at the end of a row where the weight training area begins. Beside her on a multi bench-press machine is her best friend, Carla Biggins. She reminds Vicki of Linda Hamilton in Terminator, except she smiles all the time and is quite the quipster. She works out like a fiend, no makeup, sinewy but strong. This woman bench presses an unladylike weight of 200 pounds for someone who weighs 135 pounds, that is freakishly strong.
Vicki says, “Honestly Carla, I wish you wouldn’t pick on Nick all the time.” She frowns in exasperation as she emphasizes her point in the argument.
Biggins with clenched jaw answers. “You baby his ass because you’re in love with him. Damnit Vicki, you don’t even follow your own advice.”
“I know, I know. But he hates being around you! He leaves every time you come around. You promised me...”
Biggins slams weights in her release-sits up. “Bullshit! Talk about promises. You forgot me after your great discovery.”
Vicki graduated from high school when she was only 14 and from med school by the time she was 21. She has a gift for puzzle solving and new concepts in DNA genome manipulation, which has garnered her scientific awards. Along with that came the monetary offers from big pharmaceuticals and numerous medical giants to accelerate her research, especially to lock her in under contract. The object was to render her a slave to their money. Coping with the burst to worldwide acclaim became too much for her. She failed for the first time in her life, but hid that failure.
“Carla, your problem is you never let anyone be human.”
“The great Dr. Vicki Collins. You ignored me. When you couldn’t handle the pressures, you copped your own scrips. Treated me like I was bad company.”
“I screwed up. For the tenth time, I’m sorry. Why are you always so angry?”
“I’m sorry. I’m just mad at myself because I didn’t kick your ass.”
Biggins stands up. Vicki towels off.
Vicki relents, “I found my drug addiction was easy to hide.”
“I feel like I let you down.”
Vicki embraces Carla.
“I was so ashamed. I couldn’t even face you.”
“I’ll never let my ego stop me from jerking your ass out of a jam. That’s a promise.”
Biggins moves to a heavy bag. Vicki follows. Thump! Thump! Biggins kicks the bag from a fighting stance.
“Even going easy on Nick?”
“Moi? Stop dogging pretty boy?”
“You’re such a shit. Just give him more time.”
Parks enters the gym in his dirty clothes. He’s not pretentious and could care less about the stares from some of the members.
Biggins responds, “Nope, that’s the one thing I can’t do, cause I know you're wrong. He can’t keep running from his ghosts. Speaking of Prince Charming.”
Vicki turns to greet Parks. “What in the world happened to your pants?”
“I don’t want to talk about it Vicki.”
“Okay honey. Let me grab my bag. You two try to act civil,” as she heads into the women’s locker room.
Thump! Biggins kicks the heavy bag. Thump! Parks watches as she bobs and weaves.
Parks breaks the ice, “Okay Biggins, you heard her. The war’s over.” He refuses to call her by her first name; it would make it appear he likes her.
She won’t let it go, “It’s always over for wimps. But warriors...”
Wham! She roundhouse kicks the bag. He shakes his head in disgust at her love for fight training.
Biggins caught his disapproving look, “Parks you got to...always stay ready.”
“Jesus, just cause you were the first woman to make Special Forces...”
She corrects him, “and first to win the Silver Star in combat. Say Parks, did you fall down, or did you get pushed?”
He snaps back at her, “No! You don’t get it. You think fighting makes you a hero.”
“I think when Parks says to turn the other cheek, it means show the cheeks on his ass running from trouble.”
He argues, “Fight on the streets, someone dies.”
She will not bend, “Better them...than me. At least I can defend my clothes.”
He turns away in revulsion, a big mistake. Biggins tries to blindside kick Parks’ face. Parks, with lighting reflexes deftly slips her kick with his hand. He neatly parries two more attempts with hand speed moves.
Four other male gym members who stopped to admire Carla’s workout, nod and poke each other in surprise at Parks’ speed. Nobody would believe his quickness for someone as overweight and out of shape as he is. Anybody who watches martial arts fights on TV can see this guy used to be in the ring.
“See Parks. You got potential. Let me whip that Pillsbury dough boy ass of yours back into shape. Make a man out of you again.”
“I don’t fight anymore.”
Chapter 5
Mount Vernon, Virginia 2 A.M.
Three black-clad men, wearing night scopes and carrying duffel bags, scale the fence inside the estate and hustle their way to President George Washington’s tomb. They stand outside the iron gates with the three bags down by their feet.
The lead man takes out a mini pulse generator and points it at the security devices. He activates the switch, and after it disables the alarms, packs it away. The other two have taken up positions at opposite ends of the tomb, watching the grounds, looking for guards.
The man outside the gates pulls out a lock pick set from his coat and proceeds to pick the padlock. The lock springs open in less than a minute.
A second man hurries back to the open gate of the sarcophagus and unzips a duffel bag. He uncoils what looks like a long, black, thin tubing. The first man attaches one end of the tubing to a device in the duffel bag, while the third keeps perimeter watch.
The lead man then places the end of the tubing against the top edge underside of the sarcophagus. A slight humming sound commences and white dust starts to pile up on the floor. He turns to the man behind him and gives him a thumb up signal. He replies back with a thumbs up and reaches in the bag, flips up a switch.
Fifteen minutes later, the second man peers inside one of the bags at a hooded mini screen monitor, while turning knobs on the device. He stops, waits a few seconds then moves to another knob.
“Begin,” he whispers.
One half hour later, “Mission complete,” the second man announces.
The two men start packing away the gear. When they get to the end of the tube, they carefully unscrew the tip and put it in a small aluminum case. They sweep up the white dust and put it in a small plastic bag. After opening a small can of white patching material, they proceed to plug the tiny whole that was drilled.
Finished, they zip up their bags, close the main gate and snap the padlock back shut.
The next morning, a small group of tourists listen as the tour guide recites facts in front of Washington’s tomb. A two-man Honor Guard stands at attention in front of the memorial.
“Ladies and gentleman when President Washington lay on his death bed the night of December 14, 1799, he instructed his wife to fetch his two wills. After reading them, he instructed her to burn one of them. At ten that night, George Washington spoke, requesting to be ‘decently buried’ and to ‘not let my body be put into the Vault in less than three days after I am dead.’ He was buried as instructed. He had designed this site to replace the old tomb as his and Martha’s final resting place. It was finally constructed in 1831 and President Washington’s old mahogany casket was placed inside the new marble one you see now”
“President Washington...”
Men in suits swarm the tomb led by a brigadier general and take up positions blocking t
he gate. The men all have badges hanging out of their pockets. A vehicle pulls up outside the site and two men dressed in decontamination suits exit from the rear.
The general announces to the tourists. “Attention, you have to leave Mount Vernon immediately. This memorial is officially closed as a matter of national security. Please exit the grounds now.”
He turns to the two honor guards, “Men, stand down. Return to your barracks. This site is now officially sealed and in control of the Army Criminal Investigation Division.”
Chapter 6
Vicki enters the exam area outside of Dr. Landau’s office on the top floor of Children’s Memorial Hospital. She takes a deep gulp of air and pauses to collect herself. She knows Landau is going to press her for an answer to accept Alomet’s offer for head of worldwide research. Her new lab is waiting for her. It’s fully staffed, waiting for her guidance in a new direction in gene research.
She allows a self-satisfying smile to emerge as she thinks of how wonderful it would be to finish mapping the last one percent of the human genome. This discovery will allow programming genes to create non-defective deformities. Imagine being able to cure cancer patients with one injection to replace a cancer gene they inherited.
Her smile turns to a frown as she shakes her head side-to-side because Nick wants no part of what Alomet has to offer. They would have to move to a secret location, somewhere, anywhere out in a secluded compound. He always tells her to go ahead and treat him like a piece of her luggage, just pack him in the trunk of the van. It’s decision time for her and she might as well get this done one way or the other.
Vicki enters the room as Dr. Emil Landau finishes giving a shot to a five-year-old child as she cries softly. He’s assisted by Henry, his ever present nurse, who works with the doctor exclusively, smiling as always. Vicki thinks of him as the gentle giant.
The child cries. The mother tries to comfort the little girl. Landau gives the child a big reassuring hug.
Landau says, “There, there, my dear little angel. Dr. Landau didn’t mean to hurt you. Would you like a lollipop?”
“Uh huh.”
The doctor points to Henry as he moves away, “See...Henry has your treat for being such a brave little girl. Can I kiss your arm where it hurts to make it feel better?”
“Uh huh.”
Landau kisses her arm. Then tickles her. She giggles.
Vicki breaks out in a wide smile as she watches the touching scene unfold.
“Doctor, you’re the kindest man I’ve ever seen with children,” says the mother. “You’re a blessing.”
“Children are the future of our country. They’re so special to me. There, we’re all done”
Henry moves aside with a gesture of time to exit as he puts one hand on the mother’s back and shows her the way out with his other hand. The mother gathers her child up to leave.
“Come on in Dr. Collins, let’s talk business,” as he opens the door to his private office.
Vicki enters his expansive office, which is quite the impression maker, with a huge mahogany desk, expansive paintings of children on the walls and a golf putting machine set up on the floor alongside the wall. But, her eyes are drawn to a huge mounted aquarium recessed in the wall directly behind his desk filled with exotic fish. She takes a seat in one of the large leather chairs in front of his desk.
“Doctor Collins, Los Alamos scientists announced today they mapped the final two percent of the human DNA highway in less than one year with your formula. Your research was ingenious.”
“I got lucky as a med student,” Vicki replies.
“My dear Dr. Collins, don’t be so modest. The world acknowledges you have a gift for DNA control, inductive reasoning and new authentications that allows researchers to move forward faster than at any other time in history. You put the United States 10 years ahead of the world. With the use of our facilities, you could complete your project in less than one year. World patent rights will generate billions of dollars for America, but most importantly are all the medical cures that will follow. I need you. Your country needs you. The world needs you. Dr. Collins, please join me at Alomet.”
Vicki squirms slightly in her chair as she ponders her decision. Seconds pass, then she blurts out, “All right! Okay Dr. Landau, I’ll do it.”
“That’s good news.” Landau reaches over on his desk and pulls documents out of a folder.
“Dr. Landau, I can see why they chose you to head the company. Your silver hair and lean looks remind everyone of the perfect doctor chosen to advertise on TV. Plus, you have the silver tongue of persuasion that convinces everybody to believe you,” Vicki replies in a shaky voice as she looks over the marked signature needed pages. She signs away.
“Okay, one last thing to sign and the paperwork’s final. It’s the Official Secrets Act. You can’t disclose any part of our projects or it is considered treason. The punishment for treason is the death penalty.”
“That doesn’t sound half as bad as what’s going to happen to me if I’m late picking Nick up again,” she signs. “I’m going to have to convince my fiancé to go with me.”
“Surely he can’t object to your country’s call for help,” Landau asks.
Vicki looks away to Henry and states, “Henry, I’ve never seen you without a smile on your face.”
Henry answers, “I’m happy you’re joining us.”
“I ought to bring you along when I tell Nicholas. He’s not wild about my taking this assignment.
Landau replies, “He should be happy for the journey you both will undertake.”
“That’s not it. He doesn’t believe in secret ‘voodoo’ projects. I won’t leave without him, he’s part of my deal.”
Chapter 7
Vicki pulls into the driveway of an after school day care center. She sees Parks on the playground with a little girl on his back. She smiles at the sight of him having so much fun. Other kids clamor around him. He loves the kids. The kids love him. He loves his job as the assistant manager for a facility where he is dealing with kids that already are in school.
Vicki shouts out to him, “Hey little boy, your mom’s here to pick you up.”
Parks turns to Vicki at the sound of her voice. He set’s the little girl down. All the kids grab at him, they don’t want their playmate to leave.
Parks smiles, “All right gang, I’ve got to go home. I’ll see you all tomorrow,” as he turns to leave.
“Bye Parks,” as they all chime in to say their goodbyes.
Parks enters Vicki’s car and she can barely contain her excitement. “Tonight’s going to be a special night Nick, I bought us a bottle of wine.”
Parks shrugs his shoulders. He’s nonchalant, never too high or low.
They pull into their condo, and after they enter the kitchen Vicki makes a big deal in getting the wine glasses out, then pours, and slides Nick’s glass to him. She cups his face in her hands. “Honey, I signed with Alomet.”
A scowl forms as he pulls away from her. “You signed with the secret research company without even asking if I agreed to it. We discussed it, but left it open.”
“You agreed to support me. I thought we had settled on it,” Vicki pleads.
Parks digs down, “What happened? Did the great Dr. Landau finally make you believe your own press clippings?”
Vicki frowns, “You’re being mean Nicholas.”
“This stinks. We agreed to make the decision together, but you made it all by yourself today.” His retort brings Vicki close to tears.
“Nicholas, I’ll turn it down.”
“Don’t lay any regrets on me Vicki.” He turns away from her.
Vicki goes to him, clasps the back of his neck, and pulls him to her. “Hey, Nick. I love you. You are the captain of my ship of love, my heart would sink without you in my life.” She kisses him with loving passion.
She whispers, “Hold me tight, Nicholas.”
Parks hugs her tight. “I love it when you hold me,”...he
r voice fades, and as he closes his eyes, he remembers back to a time five years ago in his past.
Parks, now trim, younger looking, walks with Ginny, a lovely brunette at night down an LA Brentwood neighborhood street.
A van full of street punks, cruising, looking for trouble, pull alongside Parks.
The van drives at their walking pace as it tracks them like prey.
The driver yells out the window, “Hey, looky at the sweet meat. You gotta share that bitch! We gotsta have her.”
“Nick, I’m scared,” as she grips his arm tight.
The car stops. Five of them pile out. The driver slowly rolls the car as the punks circle and stalk them. Parks keeps walking. Two jump in front. Three stay behind.
“Man, we want the whore.”
Parks tries to reason, “Please, we want no trouble.”
“We do,” the leader puts his hand on Parks’ chest to stop him.
In a flash, Parks grabs his wrist, side turns, bends his arm over his knee and hears the loud crack it makes. He dislocates the thug’s arm.
From behind, one of the punks covers Ginny’s mouth and drags her back. All remaining three pounce on him. Two behind punch Parks in his face. No effect.
Parks spin-kicks the knee of the one in front. He finishes facing the other two. The closest one, from the side, cold cocks Parks’ face. Parks punches his gut and the gangster collapses, gasping for air. He whirls back to face the other two.
They whip out long switchblades that snap in place. One lunges, Parks catches him with a kick in the gut and disarms him. The driver jumps out of the car with something shiny in his hand.
Parks watches in a slow motion state as he notices the driver swinging a metal baseball bat to the side of his ribs. He goes down on one knee. His vision fades when he’s hit again, this time on his head. Through a hazy blur of vision, Parks sees Ginny dragged to the car’s open back door.
He can see her eyes - frozen with fear, begging Parks to help. She offers no resistance, just those pleading eyes to her love.
The leader straddles Parks. Then he jerks his head up by his hair. “Hey, tough guy, takes a look. I’m gonna let you live. I wants you remember what we are doing to your bitch for the rest of your life. I’m your judge and it’s my life sentence for you. (He laughs) Someone grab this guy and make sure you hold his head up so he can watch the show.”
The driver nods to his gang holding Ginny on the back seat. They rip off her blouse, then start licking her face and groping her. She thrashes weakly to escape.