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Chapter 8
24 Hours Prior |
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“Revenge is a dish best served cold.” ~Old Klingon Proverb~
“This will be out last night meeting like this Alex,” Veronica said. She walked elegantly across the dim room toward his chair. “How does it feel?” he asked. “After all this time, it’s finally here… your big day.” “Our big day,” she said. “Tomorrow belongs to all of us.” Veronica pulled out a chair, took a seat, and stared across the table at her co-conspirator. “Do you have the others on the conference transmission?” “We’re only missing a few, and they’re probably waiting on the final post-dinner check-in before connecting,” Alex said. “We can wait, there’s no rush,” Veronica replied. She sat back in her seat and looked around at the dank closet she’d called headquarters for countless nights. She discovered it by accident the first week after they moved her to her new digs – she merely wanted to scout the cameras in the hallway and ended up finding the unlocked abandoned storage and supply closet just waiting for her. The lock on the outside had been removed long ago – something she immediately remedied with her own lock so she could ensure her little secret would never see the light of day. It was that night – that fateful night – that Veronica knew she had to begin working toward the day she was about to face in mere hours. The first year after she found her new headquarters, Veronica spent most of her overnight hours building a computer terminal strong enough to broadcast and sustain a multi-conference transmission while still being able to hide its source and existence from the facility. While she spent her nights on tech, Veronica devoted her days to maintaining cover and networking within the facility. Her captors had to believe she loved the program, and in order to sustain that illusion, she had to make herself believe it, if only a little. Sometime in the first year – as she was building the super transmitter – Veronica hatched the master plan that would take longer than her remaining year at the facility. Knowing they would try to fast track her into phase three, Veronica needed to stall. She needed time to complete what would become the best option for dealing a crippling blow to the Reclamation Program’s shining star. She’d have to step up her game and become the one thing that made her stomach turn – a program role model. It wasn’t until she was knee deep in mentoring that the realization smacked Veronica across the face. It stood there, plain as day, right in front of her for countless one-on-one sessions before Veronica saw it for its worth: an army. Prior to that, Veronica had assumed she would go about her master plan as she always did things… alone. She didn’t care to involve others when the situation involved any level of danger. Things felt different now though. With the stakes raised, Veronica would need every free hand she could muster. And the one-on-ones with each girl gave her an opportunity to gauge the cognizance of their situations, their level of malleability, and the level of confidence she could have in each new soldier. Recruiting only girls wouldn’t be enough though; she needed every able body she could muster. Veronica made the decision to begin speaking to Alex again (after much internal deliberation) just after she told Madam Crellar she’d stay the full five years. After two years of silence, she figured speaking to him wouldn’t hurt as much as it did before. The memory of Corey’s death seemed to fade slowly to the background, settling as a painful memory rather than an open sore waiting on acquaintances with salt. She approached him innocently one day, sitting at the table next to his during lunch. Halfway through her meal, Veronica stood, dropped a note on his table as she passed, and waited. The note gave him instructions on how to avoid cameras that night, and directions to her headquarters. When he arrived as planned, she astonished him with her progress. In only two years, Veronica converted the small room into a fortress stacked with handmade weapons, networked terminals, and an entire kitchen cabinet full of chemicals. The next three years seemed to fly by. They worked at educating those overly drugged by the staff while maintaining communication with the already converted. They emphasized discretion, stressing that each and every facility member had to keep acting as if nothing was different. Through her efforts, Veronica gained an army – and simultaneously improved the facility’s success rate through decreased regressions and increased graduations. Each time she reached a new girl, Veronica worked hard at either getting the girl to graduate or join her army. By the week of graduation, she felt ready to initiate the master plan – the one she’d worked for years at piecing together little by little. She spent the week disseminating the final instructions each night to her army – those she’d carefully manipulated into graduating all at once with her. Each time she converted a soldier, that girl received one of her self-fashioned transmitters that doubled as a hair clip. Each had a different shape but the concept always remained the same: simple, feminine and undetectable. “Clarissa on line,” a disembodied voice said. “One more,” Alex responded. “You know what tomorrow is, right Alex?” Veronica asked. “Yeah, it’s the graduation,” he said. “Why?” “No, it’s more than that. It’s the ten year anniversary of the riots.” Alex felt a chill enter the room. How could he have forgotten? “Oh, I’m sorry.” “No need to apologize, it’s been a long five years,” she said. “I coaxed Madam Crellar into making the ceremony tomorrow for that reason.” Alex shook his head. “I don’t understand.” “I sold it to her. I told her she could capitalize on the anniversary to draw in a larger crowd… more dignitaries, more recognition,” Veronica said coldly. “More dead people,” Alex added flatly. “Exactly.” Getting the neuroflox proved difficult. She knew that as long as she could get it in, administering it would be easy. She spent weeks scouring Radical Undernet transmissions looking for a contact. Once she found one, she had to work diligently at learning facility delivery schedules, and then at learning where the kitchen staff stored everything. From there she only had to have the contact send a hand-sized bag of neuroflox – packaged as a can of beans – to the facility. The metal would prevent drug contraband detectors from catching it, and she only had to find the right can. She requested a message be placed inconspicuously on the can – something an untrained eye wouldn’t catch. When she snuck out of her room the night of the delivery and slipped into the kitchen storage room, Veronica found the can right away. On the ingredients label – sticking out as plain as day – were the words ‘red beans.’ On any other can the phrase would mean nothing. Since the can had a picture of black beans, Veronica knew it was hers. She opened the can right there to ensure she was right, and sitting inside lay a small sealed plastic bag with a note on top. “Good luck,” the note read. The final piece of the puzzle – the room layout – was all Veronica needed. She’d obtain that in her one-on-one with Madam Crellar. Using the room design, she could determine how many people she’d need to distribute the poison. She had high hopes that it would only have to be Alex and her – but she was prepared to assign more soldiers to the task if necessary. “Lauren on line, sorry for being late,” she said. “That’s everyone,” Alex said. “Hello everyone, I’m glad we’re able to all be together tonight,” Veronica said. “As you all know, tomorrow is graduation. By now you all know the master plan will commence tomorrow. I need each and every one of you on board for this – including those of you who aren’t involved in the ceremony. While we’re all in the convocation hall, it will be up to the rest of you to secure the rest of the facility station by station.” A male voice echoed over the transmission, “But how?” “You’ll administer neuroflox. You’ll all have to work in pairs – one distracting the station staff while the other puts the toxin in their drinks,” Alex said. “What if they don’t have drinks?” another male asked. “They always have drinks,” Veronica said. “They especially will tomorrow when I turn up the heat and make the facility dry as a bone.” She smiled. “Any other questions before we move on?” Alex asked. After a momentary silence, Veronica continued. “After each hub is taken out, a second group of you… you know who you are… will begin freeing the phase one captives and getting them onto their feet. I can’t emphasize enough how important this is. We will not leave anyone behind, even if it means we carry people out of there.” “And guys, those of you I selected need to do the same with the cellar prisoners,” Alex said. “This is a three pronged attack everyone, and no one prong is less important in the long run. If one of us fails, all of us fail,” Veronica said. “When I give the signal, begin evacuating the building and head toward the sewer main.” “What will be the signal?” a girl asked. “You’ll know it,” Veronica said. “Trust me, you’ll recognize it.” * * * Veronica spent the next morning going through her normal routines as calmly as humanly possible. The mere thought of the events to come that evening threatened to make her jump up from her seat in excitement – something she couldn’t afford. As she peered around the room, the same sentiment seemed to be written across everyone else’s faces as well. Every resident worked extra hard to keep a cool, calm exterior; the result seemed like some sort of mass drug-induced happiness. Veronica kept a close eye on the staff, hoping they didn’t pick up on the unusually chipper vibe around the building. Though she couldn’t let herself truly believe everything was about to change, the moment crystallized for Veronica the moment Madam Crellar walked out of her room after finishing their one-on-one. She walked to the door, made sure the door securely closed, and flung her graduation dress over her head as fast as limbs and physics would allow. She rushed to her desk, pulled out a pen, and ripped a page from the diary Madam Crellar gave her years prior. From short term memory, she sketched the convocation hall set up taking care to make notations of where each group would sit. She’d have to relay this information to everyone soon, and needed to have a visual example in case she faltered in her explanation. Knowing she couldn’t safely slip away into her storage room in broad daylight without the possibility of being seen, Veronica made sure she had her bases covered the previous evening. She linked the super transmitter into her own personal transmitter – one of the many hair clips she fitted with the communication technology. The red and blue butterfly clip expertly masked the almost clunky circuits welded to the bottom. Standing over her desk looking down at the diagram, Veronica knew it was time to set events into motion that couldn’t be reversed. With a simple thumb press against one of the two butterfly wings, Veronica connected to every resident in the facility. “This is Veronica. Don’t stop moving, don’t change your actions, just listen. I’m going to carefully and slowly explain the layout of the convocation hall and what each of you who are going to be in there tonight must do.” She spent the next five minutes describing in detail exactly how the evening had to go down in order to avoid staff interference. After that transmission, she contacted Alex directly. “Alex, it’s Veronica.” “Good speech,” he said. “So it’ll just be you and me then?” “Right. We should be able to get everyone served by the time her speech is finished,” she said. “Do you think any of them suspect us yet?” Alex asked. “It’s hard to tell, they’re difficult to read on high stress occasions like this. Just be careful today when you’re bringing the guys to the hall and be sure they aren’t bragging or talking about the plan,” Veronica said. “Will do. What are you going to do now?” he asked. “Rest; it’s going to be a long night,” she said. * * * Veronica sat up in bed abruptly feeling overly rested. She knew unconsciously that she’d slept too long and that she had a lot of catch up work to do in order to make it to the line up on time. She rushed out of the room and headed to the large girl’s shower room one hallway over. Normally, she would’ve simply used the bathtub in her room and taken her time; tonight though, time simply wasn’t an expendable resource. Halfway through her shower, Veronica realized what she’d done… she left the diagram of the convocation hall sitting on her desk in plain view of everyone. She hurried through the rest of her shower, rushed back to her room, and nearly tripped over her own feet trying to get into the room. The effort was for naught though; the diagram was gone. She didn’t want to involve Alex in her blunder. Still reluctant to bring in outside parties to help after all the years of learning to the contrary, Veronica knew she’d have to solve this problem on her own – and quickly. She slipped into shorts and a wrapped a t-shirt around her waist. Afterward, she pulled the dress over her head, positioned the t-shirt so it wouldn’t fall, and finished putting on accessories – including her transmitter clip. A quick look at the time revealed she was nearly on schedule again – one thing in all the mess she was thankful for. Veronica draped one final accessory around her neck – a necklace she couldn’t remember how long she’d owned. Was it when she turned nine? Time seemed to mesh together in her tired waking brain. The locket attached to it still had pictures of those she loved (and lost) – Calvin, her mother, and her father. She took great measures to hide it when they brought her to the facility so many years prior. Over the years, it felt more and more like her only connection to the outside world – to a past she could only access in dreams and foggy memories. She held the locket inside her right hand, closed her fist, and promised her lost relatives she’d make them proud that evening. Outside her room, two hallways over, Veronica’s troops began assembling according to Madam Crellar’s instructions. Veronica walked out of her room, confident she could solve the possible crisis, and rushed to join the line. En route, she made a quick call. “Alex?” she said. “What’s wrong?” he asked before saying hello. “I need you to do me a favor. We might have a breach, so I need one of your two non-graduation groups to help with a distraction while you and I ensure things go as planned,” she said. “Is everything okay?” he asked. “It will be as long as they create a decent distraction. They have to think whatever is going on starts there and not in the convocation hall,” she said. “Gotcha. See you in a few minutes,” he said. Veronica disconnected the transmission and walked the remaining few paces through beige normalcy to the line of girls. “Everyone ready?” she asked. She led them from the rear, all the while praying her plan worked. As they turned the corner one of the staff passed, marching away in an angry huff. In her hand she carried a torn sheet of paper – Veronica’s torn sheet of paper. Veronica smiled widely, hoping everything was fine when they reached the front reception area. “Are we all ready ladies?” Madam Crellar asked. “It’s time. Please wait for me to announce you, and then you may enter.” She turned to the man in charge of Alex’s wing. “Are your boys going to be here soon? We can’t wait all evening.” “They’re turning the corner now,” he said, pointing to the procession of boys in tuxes. “Brilliant. Get them lined up. I’ll be announcing them in ten minutes at the end of my speech.” Madam Crellar turned, nodded to the ladies, and winked at Veronica. “It’s show time ladies.” Veronica couldn’t help but to smile. All the time she’d put in building the relationship with that woman might actually pay off. She didn’t seem fazed by the diary page. And the distraction wouldn’t be necessary now. It was just as well – in case the old bat did somehow begin piecing things together, the boys and their ruckus could give Veronica the few spare moments she needed to complete her mission. The moment Madam Crellar and her male counterpart walked into the room, Alex and Veronica sprung into action. Using the girls around her as a dressing room shield, Veronica slipped her dress up over her head. The sequins gleamed as she shimmied her way out and grabbed the t-shirt tucked against her stomach before it fell to the ground. After pulling the t-shirt on, Veronica peered through her circle of girls to see if Alex was ready. “We need to get to the catering station,” Veronica said. “I’m ready,” Alex said. They took off, sprinting the four doors down to the conference room Madam Crellar converted for the evening into a catering hub. All around the room various stations held the pre-meal drinks and bread, dinner, dessert, and ala carte items for those who requested different dishes. The conference room seemed to be in chaos with the sheer number of kitchen staff mixed with contracted servers. All they had to do was blend in seamlessly. “I need drinks out to the floor now people, I have confirmation of Dualla approaching the podium!” a male voice said booming over the white noise filling the room. Alex looked around the immediate interior for uniforms. “We need the aprons – we’ll blend in better if we’re not walking into the convocation hall in t-shirts.” Veronica nodded. While Alex searched for uniform aprons, she slipped back out of the room and ran to the control room two doors down. Inside, she looked around the various lighting and sound controls for the one dial she desperately needed to find in order to ensure success. Finally, after looking at nearly every labeled dial and switch, she found it – the light dimmer. Slowly, but incrementally, Veronica dimmed the convocation hall lights. She needed the room to be dim enough where Madam Crellar wouldn’t see her hair or face. Once she had the lights down to the dimmest setting, she walked toward the door and nearly knocked over Alex. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “We’re set,” he said, handing Veronica a black apron. “Come on, I got us a spot as the initial servers.” “How’d you manage that?” Veronica asked. “I sweet talked the women who were supposed to do it,” he said with a smile. “You dog,” Veronica said. She laughed lightly, glad she could still express some sort of happy emotion. “Let’s get moving, we’ve already lost time. She’s probably already speaking.” “Do you have the toxin?” he asked. Veronica held up the plastic bag she’d wrapped in the t-shirt before wrapping it around her stomach earlier. “Let’s get in there.” No sooner had they exited the control room to begin did they run right into Marge. Veronica immediately recognized her as the angry woman with the diagram. “Veronica Smith!” she said harshly. “I knew you were up to something! I tried to tell Madam, but she wouldn’t listen. I’ll have to take care of this myself I see!” She huffed and heaved, sweating through the tight white smock one size too small for her robust frame. “I think you’re mistaken, my name isn’t Veronica. I’m with the catering staff,” Veronica said. She attempted an accent, but it just came out like an American faking a British accent. “Young lady, I know better,” she said. “And you! Who are you?” she asked Alex. “I’m catering staff mum,” he said, trying to mimic Veronica’s accent to sustain the illusion. He shot a glance out of the corner of his periphery at Veronica. “A likely story. Just wait until I haul your asses into the holding tank!” She reached out and placed her clammy hands around Veronica’s wrist, holding it in a death grip. “Let go of me Miss…what’s your name?” she said as politely as fear surged through her body. “That’s none of your business young lady, now come with me,” Marge said. Alex sidestepped her clammy claw, shooting one more glance at Veronica and shaking his head to have her throw him the plastic bag he’d eyed twice. Veronica threw him the bag, catching Marge’s attention. “Now what is this?” she asked condescendingly. “Drugs? You’ve smuggled drugs into our facility?” Her attention remained on Veronica despite Alex’s possession of the toxin. “Finally, I have enough evidence to get you sent to the cellar! After all this time, I was right!” “So you have been out to get me all along,” Veronica said, playing along. “Ah, so the truth comes out once you’re caught in the act. It won’t save you though,” Marge said. “I’m afraid you’re the one who won’t be saved,” Veronica said. Using the heel of her dress shoes, she stomped on Marge’s right toe hard enough to knock her backward. Marge fell to the floor and made a muffled thud as she hit. Seams tore and buttons flew as Marge’s white smock ripped open with the tension from the fall. In the effort to conceal herself, Marge didn’t notice Alex standing over her. “Cover your face Veronica,” he said. Veronica lifted the black apron up and covered her nose and mouth to protect herself from the toxin. She watched as Alex opened the bag and shook some of its contents down on Marge’s face as she squirmed to regain composure. She didn’t notice at first, but by the time she realized what Alex was doing it was too late. The primal thirst deep in her throat had already begun to take hold of her mouth and brain. “We’re behind schedule now,” Veronica said through the apron. “We’ll catch up, come on,” he said. “What about her?” Veronica asked. “Leave her. She’ll be gone before she can make it anywhere to sound an alarm,” he said. He held out his hand, took Veronica’s left hand into it, and quickly guided her back to the conference room to retrieve wine and water. As they made it back to the lines of graduates, Veronica told them all to walk in slowly when the speech was over. They’d need time to get back out and into their graduation outfits before it was their turn to enter the room. With that, Veronica and Alex plunged forth into the abyss. Everything went as planned, right down to the lighting. Despite the speech ending and the lines of graduates entering before she and Alex finished serving, Veronica didn’t worry. Everything seemed to be falling into place. She just had to count on everyone else to do one simple task now: not drink. As she poured the last drink at the end of her banquet table, Veronica looked up to see Alex’s progress. He had two or three more place settings to get through. She nodded to him and began making her way to the room’s rear. She didn’t wait for him; Veronica knew she’d take longer than Alex getting dressed again. Halfway through shimmying into her dress, she heard him exit. “We did it,” he said through heavy, labored breaths. “Catch your breath Alex, we can’t raise suspicion when we enter,” Veronica said. “And thank you for that.” “For what?” he asked. “Back in the hallway. You saved me back there,” she said. “I was prepared to handle that alone… but you just, well…” She felt speechless. “Veronica, you can’t do everything yourself. You let me help you with this plan, you let me help you carry it out… let me do more elsewhere too, okay?” It wasn’t in what he said so much as what he didn’t say. He’d expressed interest often in the time since they’d begun talking again. “Let’s get through this and we’ll talk,” Veronica said offhandedly. Alex nodded. He tried to look away, but felt drawn to Veronica as she adjusted the gown around her figure. He admired her strength, her courage, and determination. And it didn’t hurt that she was growing up to be a knock-out beauty. It was in this gaze that he noticed her necklace. He remembered how she spoke of it briefly when she arrived at the facility, and knew it meant a lot to her. When it slid down her dress and hit the floor during her dress adjustment, he reached down and picked it up. “Hold still Veronica,” he said. “Your necklace…” She looked back at him, smiled warmly, and lifted her hair for him to drape it around her neck. “Thank you,” she whispered. Her soft, curly hair smelled like strawberries. Alex had imagined this moment for as many nights as he could recall… and now that he was actually doing it, all he could think of was her safety, and whether they’d make it out of the facility alive that night. The moment came and passed, and finally the moment arrived where it was their turn to enter the convocation hall again – this time as graduates. Time seemed to slow to a halt while she waited on the inevitable toast Madam Crellar would make. Veronica knew this woman too well. She knew the toast would precede dinner… that her pride in the program would overrule her perception of events. How could the woman not have noticed the quirks in Veronica’s plan? The lights, the serving times, the diagram; Veronica made a lot of stupid miscalculations that didn’t change the overall equation too drastically in the end. And she felt thankful for that. And then it arrived… the toast, the kind words, and the moment of truth. Veronica glanced innocently at the ladies to her side, watched them all simultaneously place their goblets back on the table, and then turned her attention back to Madam Crellar. She wanted to savor this moment – a moment of rest and redemption – before the second phase of the operation went into motion. Time restarted the moment everyone’s goblets hit the table. Chaos ensued. And Veronica sat waiting. Madam Crellar fell from the stage, struggling to reach Veronica’s table. Veronica knew what the woman wanted, and she intended to give it all to her – every morsel of truth. And when she delivered the words she’d been waiting years to say, the moment felt empty. Damning a woman cursed to death didn’t fulfill her need for vengeance as she thought it would. In fact, in seeing the forlorn, betrayed sadness in Madam Crellar’s eyes, Veronica felt terrible for a moment. As the woman passed into the next realm, Veronica looked up to find Alex. She had to get these thoughts out of her head… she had to initiate phase two. She had to put a stop to the evil this building churned out. Most importantly though, Veronica needed to get the image of Madam Crellar’s dying face out of her head. |
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The Radical Chronicles is Copyright © 2009 by Tim Peacock.
