Crisis! by James Gunn

Author:James Gunn
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Road Media Sci-Fi & Fantasy
Published: 1985-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

* * * *

The library was crowded with people and television equipment. All the furniture had been removed from the room except the big desk and the chair behind it. The door to the hall and the door into King's bedroom stood open. People kept coming and going through the doorway into the hall, but nobody entered the bedroom where King and Jessica remained in conference.

One of the members of the television crew was Robert Scott, his stony face rigid above the gray collar of the King International uniform. He was tinkering with the control panel when he looked up and saw Johnson. Johnson was walking toward Scott when King appeared in the bedroom door and said, “Bill, why don't you get these men some beer and soft drinks. This is hot work."

“Yes, sir,” Johnson said, and members of the crew murmured their appreciation for King's thoughtfulness.

Johnson motioned Scott to follow him as he passed. He led the way down the hallway to the stairs and down the stairs to the kitchen. He relayed the order for drinks to the kitchen crew and then walked quickly down the corridor to his room. As he entered he motioned to Scott for silence, walked to the elevator, opened the door, and gestured to Scott to join him. Scott's normally impassive features were curious, but he slipped in beside Johnson. Johnson pushed the bottom button.

The ride was long. Finally the car stopped and the door opened. In front of them was a large, concrete room. At the far end was a corridor with doors opening off it on either side. The place had the feel of a bunker far below ground, but it had been maintained. The paved floor was not dusty. Air whispered through ceiling ducts. Automatic rifles racked against the wall were clean. Machine guns and mortars in rows upon the floor gleamed with oil. Boxes of ammunition and grenades were stacked neatly against the walls.

“This is a god-damned arsenal!” Scott exclaimed.

“Only part of it,” Johnson said. “The small arms are on the floor above. But that's not why I brought you here."

“What are you doing here?” Scott asked, stepping out of the elevator, half-distracted by the sight of all the weapons.

“That's not important either. But I got a job as personal assistant to King, just as you got a job with his communications section."

“But you're in a perfect position to—How did you know that?"

“About your job? Isn't it obvious?” Their voices echoed off the hard walls. “I guess. We've got to talk."

“Talk fast. There are no cameras or bugs here. But our absence mustn't be noticed."

“You know what King is up to, don't you?"

“The Presidency?"

“His name will be put in nomination at the upcoming Republican convention. If he doesn't get that, he'll be nominated by the Democrats.” He couldn't seem to get his eyes off the blue metal.

“Or both."

“Both?” Scott looked quickly at Johnson. “Yes, of course. Why didn't I think of that? He's got to be stopped."

“Why?” Johnson asked simply.

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