Different (34 page)

"When Matheson became aware that the...” Adam continued as the barman flicked to one channel after another, but Adam remained constant. “He sent his assistant Russell Downey to England to close the project down...”

"That's it!” the barman said and switched off the power. Russell, who was half expecting Adam's face to still remain on screen, sighed with relief as the screen went dark.

"Hey Mac, I was watching that!” One of the customers said angrily.

"Well, go and watch it somewhere else,” the barman growled, and then his mouth dropped open as everyone in the bar, except Russell started to walk towards the door.

"Hey, what's the matter can't you take a joke or something?” The barman hastily turned the power back on. “Here watch it, be my guest!"

"...I will run no longer, and call upon the American Congress to let us live in peace and freedom as guaranteed under the constitution. Henry Matheson accuses us of murder, but offers no proof. Eyewitnesses have confirmed that the FBI launched a phosphorous grenade through the window of a cabin at Deer Lodge killing an innocent young woman, Mary Slymonds. It was a woman who had rescued young Mary from Russell Downey's hunting lodge in Montana who killed the agents. Ask him why she was there? Why had he strapped her to the table to be raped before she was murdered and then fed to the dogs?

Leave me and mine alone or I'll retaliate and bring you and your corrupt assistant to your knees, Matheson. You're not worthy of the title of President!"

The transmission ended and normal programmes appeared on the screen but the people in the bar were talking animatedly amongst themselves, asking each other if the broadcast was a hoax. Russell knew better, though. He'd go back to Washington after all. It was time to take extreme measures against the freaks.

Adam switched off the camera ending the transmission and smiled at the open mouthed television engineer. “Thanks for the loan of the equipment. I'll remove my modifications now so that you can carry on as normal."

The engineer and the rest of the mobile TV crew nodded and Adam sensed that the attractive female presenter was trying to gather up enough courage to say something.

They had spotted the mobile broadcasting unit's van travelling towards New Hudson and Adam had simply blocked the road with the helicopter and taken over the van.

"What?” he asked, smiling at the woman.

She moistened her lips and then her professionalism took over. “I need to do an interview with you, with all of you,” she said. “If what you're saying's true then you need to record your side of the story so the whole country, the world even, hears what you all have to say."

"We haven't time,” Jay said. “They'll be trying to pinpoint the transmission, but I promise you that everything Adam said was the truth."

"I'm not coming with you. I have to get to Washington to testify on Roger Thompson's behalf,” Rebecca said.

"It's too risky, they'll kill you,” Scott said. “Murder you, like they did Mary."

"Not if you surrender yourself live, on national television.” The presenter said. “They wouldn't dare let anything happen to you then, especially if your attorney was present."

"Why are you offering to help me?” Rebecca asked.

"Well, besides having the story of the year, I could interview you on the way. What do you say? At least my way, you're guaranteed to get to give yourself up alive!"

"Right then, that's what we'll do. I'm Rebecca, that's Scott, Adam and Jay!"

"I'm Sara, that's Doug my cameraman and driver.” They all shook hands and Rebecca and Jay embraced and Scott turned and shook Adam's hand.

"I'm going with Rebecca.” he said. “You two have more chance on your own."

Adam nodded. Scott was right, and at least he'd be safe with Sara and Doug. “You take care, Scott. I'll be seeing you and that's a promise.” He walked away while Scott and Jay said their goodbyes and he climbed up into the pilot's seat. There were tears in Jay's eyes as she returned and climbed into the seat beside him. He started the rotors and with a final wave towards the van, they took off and flew towards the setting sun.

In shocked silence, the members of the Senate viewed the film showing the demolition of the convoy that had surrounded the Mallard Ranch. Sitting amongst them was a rather bemused Roger Thompson. He'd been driven from the airport straight to the White House to be warmly greeted by the new acting Vice-President, Frederick Dawes.

"Mr. Prime Minister, it's good to see you, and please disregard the President's wild accusations. Everyone here knows they're untrue, but we needed to get you over here urgently. We're under the greatest threat to democracy that we've ever had to face. We think the President's mentally unstable."

"I fail to see how..."

"Please bear with me. We're going straight to the House of Representatives. Congressmen from all over the country are waiting for us there."

Roger told him about Rebecca Carlyle's telephone call. “If she is right, and although I've only met her once I trust her judgment, Henry Matherson's not mentally unstable, he's become insane!"

"That Senators and Prime Minister is what we're up against, a weapon that could destroy the very fabric of our country!” Holding up his hand the Vice-President silenced the urgent babble of conversation that had broken out. “Now you've all heard the rumours; the allegations that have been made against the President. It's my duty to inform you that not only are the allegations true but Henry Matheson has suspended Congress and ordered a State of Emergency. He's sealed himself in the War Room of the Pentagon with the Chiefs of Staff and issued orders for our arrest, all of us!"

Pandemonium broke out and Roger thought that the Vice President had lost control. Roger was about to try and make himself heard above the noise, when the sound of shots broke out and then doors of building burst open. Silence fell as they all turned towards the armed troops who swarmed into the room, their weapons aimed in their direction.

"You men will remove yourselves from this chamber immediately!” Frederick Dawes's voice cut through the silence like a knife, and the Marines hesitated. “Congress has suspended the President pending..."

"Forget it Dawes, our orders come direct from the President himself.” A man wearing the uniform of a three star General strode towards them. “My orders are to place you all under arrest and I will shoot the first man who refuses to obey me!"

"You're insane! You can't arrest the whole of Congress!"

"Yes I can and I have. You will be kept here under armed guard until the current crisis is resolved. You may use the facilities within the building but anyone trying to leave will be shot. Gentlemen, I have a jammer in place to prevent you from calling out on your mobile phones, and the land lines have already been disconnected."

"This is an outrage, General!” A large Southern Congressman sprang to his feet, but sat down again when one of the marines stepped forward and pointed his rifle at him.

"I'm Roger Thompson, the British Prime Minister, and I wish to return to the British Embassy."

The General smiled showing white even teeth. “Now ain't that just tough titty?” he said. “Now listen up, if you
gentlemen
behave I will have food sent in to you, if not well then I guess you're all going to lose a little weight.” He turned on his heel and walked out and the marines backed up their weapons held at the ready as they followed him.

The doors slammed shut and silence filled the hall and Roger wondered if they were all thinking the same thing. America, the most heavily armed nuclear power in the world, was in the grip of a mad man.

"There she is,” Russell said triumphantly, as a red dot appeared briefly on the screen. “Butler's Landing! I knew they'd come down somewhere around there!"

"You're sure it's her?” The Major from the Special Services, asked.

"Yes, the bug in her shoe transmits for just one two second burst an hour, they're holed up in an old tin mine down by the river here.” He pointed to a spot on the map.

"Is your plane ready?"

"Yes sir and the men are just waiting for you to give the orders."

"All right, but remember I want the male alive, use the dart guns and nets."

"Understood sir, my men know their jobs, they're two hundred of the best combat troops in the army. We'll be all over them before they know what's hit them."

"Don't underestimate them Major, they're as fast and as strong as mountain lions. They will destroy any metal you go in with so the weapons you have been given are all metal free. Remember, your best defence from being attacked is to grab the woman as a hostage; and remember, keep the nets between you and him.”

Russell hoped the Major and his men were as good as they were supposed to be, but it didn't really matter anymore. He and Henry had already decided, along with the Generals; to ensure that they got hold of the weapon intact. They were going to drop a nuke on the freaks. Not on them exactly, it would be an airburst, which even if it didn't kill them it would blind them almost instantly. An airburst minimised radioactive contamination. There were a few hundred Indians on the nearby reservation who would also be wiped out, but so what? The weapon would not be damaged. Immediately afterwards, troops wearing protective clothing would go in and recover it. Yes, in twenty-four hours it would all be over.

They heard about the State of Emergency and saw the troop-laden wagons long before they reached Washington.

Doug a taciturn rugged man, in his early forties, she thought, pulled into the parking lot of a diner. “I think that we'd best get something to eat and then decide what we're going to do.” he said. Rebecca had been wondering about that herself. If Congress was suspended and the rumours that its members had all been arrested were true, then it was pointless to give herself up.

The diner was crowded but they managed to find a table and gave their order to a harassed looking waitress, and by the counter some men dressed in hunting gear were arguing loudly.

"I still say that it's something to do with that alien attack at Greensburgh!” A thin man of about sixty and wearing a baseball cap said, punctuating his speech by jabbing the air with his finger.

"Aw heck, Marvin, don't start in on that crap again!” A younger man, with salt and pepper hair, complained. “There ain't no aliens, I reckon some fool terrorists have got themselves hold of a bomb."

"Terrorists always have bombs!” A huge fat man said. “We know that!"

"No not an ordinary bomb, Mike!” The younger man said. “A nuke! I reckon that some terrorists have got themselves hold of a nuke!"

"Excuse me, but didn't you see the TV broadcast? Adam's TV Broadcast?” Sara asked, and the men turned to stare at her.

"We ain't got us no TV?” The waitress said putting down the plates of food onto the table. “Some low-down drunk threw a beer bottle through the screen last night and we ain't got it repaired yet."

"Who's Adam and what's he got to do with what's going on?” Marvin asked belligerently.

"Hey is that your TV truck outside? Are you a TV star or something?” The man with the greying hair asked excitedly.

"I'm Sara Collins, from Bitterfoot News, look we've got a tape of the broadcast on the van and a couple of monitors. I'm sure that if a couple of you guy's give Doug here a hand, he'll rig it up so you can see it for your selves.”

"Thank you ma'am, we'd surely appreciate that,” Mike the fat man said. “Tom and I will give him a hand ... I'd sure as hell like to know just what's going on!"

Rebecca helped Sara and the waitress remove the broken television from its shelf to make room for the monitor and video recorder that Doug and the men were removing from the truck. It took about fifteen minutes to set the equipment up and Doug pressed the button on the recorder and started the tape.

Rebecca counted forty-three people excluding their own group who stood open mouthed watching Adam's broadcast and as it ended the silence remained unbroken for several seconds.

"I always thought that Henry Matheson looked a sneaky son of a bitch!” Mike said, slamming a meaty fist down on the counter hard enough to make the cups rattle. “Experimenting on kids, Jesus! I mean how low can you get?"

"You don't believe this horse shit, Mike!” Marvin asked incredulously. “Anyone can see that it's a put on!” He turned to Sara grinning. “You've been having us on haven't you?"

"No.” Sara spoke quietly and to Rebecca it was the simple sincerity in her voice that stooped all further argument.

"Rebecca is a British Police officer sent by her Prime Minister to take care of Adam who came over here to look for another survivor from the experiments, Jay. She was raised in England by Scott here's grandparents, and it was his sister Mary that Russell Downey and his men murdered. Everything that Adam said in that broadcast's the truth!"

Rebecca looked at the clock on the diner's wall. “It's coming up on one. Can we put the aerial in that monitor to hear the news?"

The newscaster sounded grim as he announced that the House of Representatives was surrounded by armed troops and that the Congressmen were being held prisoners along with the British Prime Minister.

"This is a grave day for democracy!” he said.

"We've got to do something!” Mike said. “I say let's round up all the men with guns and..."

"No Mike, you'd only get them and yourself killed.” Scott spoke for the first time and straightened to his full height. “What we need to do is to find a place big enough to use for an HQ, and get messages to everyone to meet there. We need as many people as we can get, supplies of food, cooks and hand held communications, we need to be prepared in case we're attacked."

"There's Fort Jacob about three miles west of here,” the man with the grey sprinkled hair said, “It's been abandoned for about fifteen years, because it was too far off the tourist trails. It ain't up to much, but it's big and could be put right!"

"Right, that's where we'll go!” Scott turned and smiled at her and Rebecca felt almost elated to see the fire back in his eyes. “I'm going to miss having you around,” he said. “Doug, Sara, thanks for what you've done, I..."