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by A. C. Crispin


  When Julie reached her door she looked up at him. "Thanks, Donovan."

  He nodded. "G'night, Doc."

  Juliet stumbled inside, flopped onto her cot, her hip stabbing her for the first time in weeks. She thought foggily that she ought to take off her shoes and turn out the light, then she was asleep.

  On his way back from the kitchen with a beer, Donovan saw her light burning through the partly open door and tapped softly on it, to see if Julie were still awake. When there was no response, he peered inside.

  He smiled, a much different expression than his usual ironic grin, staring at the small blonde woman sound asleep on the cot. Setting down his Coors, he tiptoed into the tiny room. Moving quietly and efficiently, he took off Juliet's shoes, then covered her with a blanket. As he moved to turn out the light still burning over her desk, he noticed the calendar hanging over it. Big blue X's marked off the days to go until the hospital raid, which was circled in red.

  Only three days left, he thought. Then the fun really begins . . .

  Chapter 23

  The limousine, driven by Cal Robinson, deftly threaded its way through the downtown traffic toward the Medical Center. Juliet Parrish and Robert Maxwell sat in the back, going over the final plans for the raid.

  "You're sure Martin understands that he and Lorraine are supposed to patch in the broadcast from the Mother Ship when they try and cut it off at this end?" Maxwell asked nervously, tugging at his tie.

  "I'm sure," Juliet said, leaning forward to adjust his black bow tie one more time. "Now leave that thing alone. It's perfect now, so don't touch it."

  "Haven't worn a tux in years," Robert grumbled. "Now I remember why, too. Damned monkey suits." He smoothed the material across his shoulders, then checked the gun resting in an underarm holster, making sure he could get to it when necessary. "God, I feel silly," he mumbled. "What the hell is a forty-three-year-old professor doing making like James Bond?"

  "I think you look very distinguished, Robert," Juliet said, smiling at him. "Do I look okay?"

  "You look great," he said huskily, stung suddenly by the remembrance of the last time a woman had asked him that question.

  "Thanks," she said nervously. "And thanks for having Lynn find me an evening wrap. I totally forgot about needing one."

  "That's all right," he said, looking out the window as the limo rolled majestically through the night. He didn't tell her the shawl from Pakistan had been Kathy's—there was no need to remind Julie of his own loss. "You look good in that color."

  "It's my favorite," she admitted. "Thank God, Maggie was able to help me with this dress. I was always better at sewing up people than clothes. The design is really clever."

  Juliet's gown was a shimmering red with a hint of gold thread running through the fabric. The low, blouson top displayed her lovely shoulders, and the luxuriant draping of the bodice concealed the gun, held under her arm with surgical tape. Strapped to the inside of her lower thigh was another gun. Robert smiled at her. "You look more like a model than a walking arsenal."

  She grinned ruefully. "This whole thing is so crazy. Maggie and I designed this dress so that when I need to, I can loop the skirt up and run in it. Cached among our weapons are my Adidas, if I make it to the rendezvous point. I had a whole list of things I checked over today—while I was sitting under the hair dryer! The whole time Maggie was combing me out and putting the final touches on my coiffure, we discussed our plans for turning the Visitors' security system against them."

  "Okay, you beautiful people," Cal said from the front seat, "we're almost there. Good luck."

  "Thanks, Cal," Juliet said, drawing her shawl around her shoulders and clutching her evening bag, which contained nothing more sinister than handkerchiefs and perfume.

  As the car pulled up before the hospital security entrance, Cal, dressed in a very proper chauffeur's uniform, raced around to open the door for Juliet and Robert. They stood on the sidewalk, their special—counterfeit—passes in hand. In the crowd ahead of them, Maxwell recognized Kristine Walsh, interviewing many of the guests waiting their turn to go through the security check.

  Even as they watched, the special machine designed to screen each pass lit up with a red "reject," and a siren sounded. Instantly, Steven and several shock troopers converged on a hapless young couple and bore them away. The lighthearted aura of the event darkened a bit. Robert took a deep breath. "They're not fooling around, are they? This could get nasty."

  Juliet held his arm, her smile unwavering. "It'll get nastier if these passes don't work." She watched Kristine Walsh and her television crew narrowly. "Avoid the camera, Robert. She's looking for someone to interview about that incident."

  As they waited in the crowd, they could make out, farther back along the lines, Elias in evening clothes, then behind him, in Visitor uniforms, Maggie and Caleb. Farther back in the crowd was Brad, also dressed as a Visitor. Maxwell saw a flash of white on black and recognized Father Andrew in his clerical collar, and with him Ruby, who wore an evening dress and ropes of pearls. She was sitting in a wheelchair, a heavy shawl across her lap. The crowd parted respectfully to allow the priest and the handicapped woman through.

  Juliet stepped up to the machine, her pass in her hand. With fingers that only determination kept steady, she pushed the piece of plastic into the slot. Alter a second that seemed like forever, the machine beeped quietly, and lighted up, in green, the word "pass." Juliet walked on, smiling genuinely this time.

  Once inside the huge lobby of the hospital, Robert and Juliet spent several minutes just mingling with the other guests, to allow all the resistance fighters time to reach their assigned positions. High above the glittering crowd milling around with canapes and drinks, a podium was set up, thrusting out into the room with typical Visitor arrogance. Maxwell spotted Arthur and Eleanor Dupres, and made sure he and Juliet stayed far out of their sight.

  Juliet touched his arm, indicating an area before the podium that had been roped off with heavy velvet. "That's where he's bound to come out. He must be backstage, waiting for the big moment."

  Maxwell nodded, looking longingly over at the bar. "Are you sure we don't have time for even one drink?"

  Juliet gave him a mock-disgusted look. "You're an incurable lush, Robert. One little commando raid, with a whopping twelve percent chance of success, and you need liquid courage."

  Maxwell grinned at her "Even 007 gets to drink on the job." He sobered after a moment, checking his watch. "They should all be inside by now. When are they going to start this shindig?"

  "It's fashionable to be late in Visitor circles too, I guess."

  The minutes dragged by as Robert and Juliet smiled and nodded, trying not to let the tension they felt show on their faces. Across the room they could see Father Andrew and Ruby, both holding glasses. "Club soda, I hope," Julie whispered.

  Finally Kristine Walsh appeared with the camera crew focusing on her. They realized the presentation was about to begin. Behind the draperies Maxwell saw a flash of red, then recognized Diana's dark hair. A fanfare blared without warning, making both Robert and Juliet jump.

  The dark curtains swirled, and then the Supreme Commander in a glare of flashbulbs, emerged, smiling and waving. Applause thundered through the lobby. Maxwell, relieved to have something to do, clapped till his hands stung.

  John mounted the steps to the podium, then stood waiting for silence. As the crowd milled, quieting, Robert took Julie's arm, and they joined the press of people moving closer. By judicious use of elbows and apologies, they ended up just a few feet from the velvet rope, directly opposite the steps to the podium.

  John's warm, reverberating tones filled the lobby. "Good evening to all of you. We Visitors are particularly proud of tonight's ceremony, since it gives us a chance to repay the wonderful hospitality the people of Earth have shown us ever since we arrived here. You have all done everything you can to help us collect the resources we need to save the people of our planet; it seems only fair that we
reciprocate."

  Robert and Juliet edged closer to the velvet rope. A quick look around the lobby showed Maxwell that Sancho Gomez and Elias were positioned close to a couple of the guards, as was Father Andrew. Carefully he selected a target for himself, a guard standing in back of the podium. The man wore a standard Visitor uniform and cap, not the shock trooper armor. Maxwell was pleased—he'd been practicing, but it was nice to have more and bigger target areas.

  John's voice continued, nearly overhead. "Thus I am honored to announce that, beginning tomorrow, the doors will be open at this hospital—and within weeks at hospitals around the world—to dispense a proven, safe, and painless vaccine for a disease which afflicts millions of people . . . cancer."

  A shot rang out, then another. People screamed and tried to run. Robert's gun was in his hand, and he aimed carefully as the guard behind the podium raced forward. The .357 Magnum bucked in his hand, and the guard dropped, clawing at his throat.

  In each corridor leading into the lobby, they could hear the drumming of feet as the Visitor security squads headed for the lobby—only to be thwarted as heavy steel doors thudded down, sealing off the presentation hall. Robert turned to Juliet. "Brad and Caleb made it, I see!"

  Another shot rang out, and as he moved forward, gun in hand, Maxwell saw Father Andrew holding a gun to a guard's throat. Ruby was grinning like a little girl at the Circus.

  Robert and Juliet reached the steps of the podium together, their guns out and ready. Robert saw a flash of red at the back of the steps, and lunged. It was Diana—she'd managed to grab a weapon from a hiding place in back of the podium. With a savagery that he'd never know he possessed, Maxwell swung the muzzle of the heavy handgun across her fingers, sending the Visitor sidearm spinning away. Then he grabbed her, holding her despite her struggles—she was far stronger than most men her size—and brought the Magnum up to her throat. "Hold it, lizard!"

  Juliet darted over and retrieved the Visitor weapon. Maxwell turned, his gun digging into the Visitor officer's neck. He wished violently that he could shoot her for what she'd done to his daughter, but at the moment, it was the danger to Diana that was keeping John at bay.

  "Freeze!" he shouted loudly. "Nobody moves! I mean nobody!" Christ, he thought, I haven't heard dialogue like that since old Cagney movies . . .

  Juliet scrambled past him, the alien weapon in her hand. "Do we need to persuade the camera crew?" Robert asked her.

  "No," she said, climbing the stairs to the podium. "Kristine Walsh waved to them to keep filming—I saw her."

  The Supreme Commander was turned toward the back of the platform as Julie approached, the laser weapon in her hand contrasting weirdly with her dress and coiffure. "Face front!" she ordered loudly, gesturing with the weapon.

  For long seconds John didn't respond, then, as Juliet raised the weapon, aiming for his heart, he slowly obeyed. Holding the gun at ready, Juliet stepped forward. Dragging Diana with him, Maxwell stepped around the side of the podium to see Kristine Walsh gesture her camera crew to a closeup of Juliet. Directional mikes swung in her direction.

  "Listen to me, everyone!" Juliet's voice rang out through the lobby. "The Visitors are not our friends. They've come to rape our planet, and kill all of us! They're not human, as they pretend to be!"

  Reaching out quickly, she pulled sharply at the side of John's face, ripping his human mask away with one quick jerk. Maxwell could feel Diana stiffen in his hold as gasps of horror ran around the packed lobby. Diana's voice rang out, despite the jab of the gun. "Stop this transmission! Control room! Blackout!"

  "Shut up, you bitch!' Maxwell jabbed the gun brutally beneath her jaw, saw it tear her mask. The shining blackish-green scales showed through the hole. "I'd love to kill you!" I hope Martin and Lorraine cut in those transmitters on the Mother Ship, he thought, looking back up at the podium.

  "Look at him," Juliet was saying, turning John's head to the side, so the audience could see his features in profile. "They're stealing our water! They're taking our people prisoner aboard their ships! The resistance is fighting them. We need your help!"

  The banging at the door near Father Andrew increased suddenly, then the door shivered visibly. As they watched, it jumped upward, disgorging Steven, the Visitor Security Officer and a horde of shock troopers.

  Even as they tumbled through the opening, Ruby, still in her wheelchair, whipped away the shawl from her lap, and began blasting away with a submachine gun. Slugs ripped into the Visitors and the metal door and many fell. After a second, the Visitors pulled back, and Ruby, leaping from her wheelchair, raced away.

  Hastily Maxwell clubbed Diana, thrusting her out of his way, just as Juliet, kicking off her high heels, leaped off the podium. Sancho caught her. As he darted after them, Maxwell was nearly knocked down by the flying figure of John, who raced backstage, vainly trying to shield his reptilian features from the cameras. Maxwell heard Kristine Walsh's voice call out, "Don't miss any of this!"

  Then he was with the others, sprinting for his assigned exit route.

  "Keep filming!" Kristine shouted at her crew. "This is great!" The resistance fighters were racing for the doors, then out of the lobby. Someone grabbed her arm. It was Diana, one hand covering the ripped place in her human skin as she gave a terse order.

  "Get on the air and assure the viewers that what they've just seen was a terrorist hoax."

  Kristine stood staring at her, fascinated by the greenish-black spot of reptilian scales she could see beneath the Second-in-Command's masking hand. Diana reached out and slapped the human woman's face, her movement blurringly fast. "Now, Kristine!"

  Obediently Kristine Walsh beckoned to her cameras and mikes. "Ladies and gentlemen, you have just seen a terrorist attack on this hospital . . ." She hesitated for a long moment.

  "At least that is what the Visitors ordered me to tell you. But what we all saw just now was the truth! Resistance fighters trying to reclaim our planet from these aliens, who have lied to us, cheated us, and now strive to kill all of us. They're monsters, ladies and gentlemen, who are trying to steal our planet from us. You saw them just now the way they really are!"

  Out of the corner of her eye, Kristine saw Diana race across the lobby to a guard, jerking his sidearm out of his hand. She spoke faster. "They must be fought, ladies and gentlemen! They must be defeated, or they will totally exterminate us! Join those who are resisting and—"

  The blast of the laser pistol caught Kristine Walsh full in the chest, flinging her backwards like a boneless doll. As she fell, Kristine experienced a brief, intense satisfaction, then she felt nothing at all.

  Mike Donovan was the first one out of the air-conditioning duct onto the roof, and found himself staring directly into the muzzle of a Visitor rifle. A squad vehicle was parked on the top of the Medical Center, and several shock troopers stood by as the other fighters climbed out onto the roof, putting their hands in the air. Suddenly more troopers erupted onto the roof from the stairs, Steven in the lead, stopping as they saw that the fighters had been captured.

  The helmeted pilot leaned out of the squad vehicle and waved to Steven. "Report to Diana that the rebels have been captured and that I'm taking them to the Mother Ship." There was considerable pride in the alien reverberation.

  Steven was obviously chagrined at not having made the capture personally, but finally waved for the shock troopers to load the prisoners aboard. "Inform the Mother Ship that we'll need another shuttle on the roof so we can smuggle the Supreme Commander out without anyone seeing him."

  "Acknowledged, sir," the pilot said.

  The shock troopers herded the resistance fighters aboard. They went quietly, all the fight seemingly gone out of them. The squad vehicle took off—and promptly executed a triumphant barrel roll.

  Whoops of exultation filled the Visitor craft. The "shock troopers" pulled off their helmets, to reveal Bill Graham, Cal Robinson, and several other resistance fighters. The pilot of the craft was Maggie. William sat beside her
grinning.

  "Slick, real slick!" Caleb crowed. "William, old son, I owe you another one!"

  "He deserves an Oscar," Maggie said, "for sounding so calm when I was sitting here with a bead drawn on his head.'

  Willie looked hurt. "I wanted to help," he said plaintively.

  "Well you sure did!" Brad whooped. "Did you see Steven's face?"

  The laughter, shouted congratulations, and back-patting went on as the craft swooped and banked to head for headquarters. Donovan had to shout to make himself heard over the din. "Shut up!" He glanced at all the inquiring faces. "Where's Julie?"

  The celebration was over almost before it started.

  Chapter 24

  The enormous lobby of the Medical Center was filled with glittering formal gowns and the flashbulbs of the press as John, the Visitor Supreme Commander, smiled warmly at his attentive, grateful audience. His words echoed throughout the hall, picked up by the reporters' mikes clustered around the podium. ". . . a proven, safe, and painless vaccine for a disease which afflicts millions of people . . . cancer."

  Thunderous applause rocked the lobby. Lights dazzled as photographers captured the moment. John smiled, a humble, dedicated smile of good will and sincerity. "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you. Thank you."

  As the applause increased to deafening proportions, the Supreme Commander nodded graciously and descended the stairs at the side of the podium.

  "Cut!" shouted a reverberating voice. "Applause off!"

  The thunderous clapping halted with a click.

  "Good," Diana nodded. "Where's Eleanor Dupres? It's time for her spot."

  "I'm here, Diana."

  Carefully the dark-haired woman arranged herself in front of the cameras as makeup technicians gave her a last once-over. "Ready?" Eleanor nodded. "All right, lights. Three . . . two . . . one . . . do it!"

 

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