Rachel the Warrior

Rachel the Warrior

Part Five

by G. Lawrence

A hazardous mission

Recap; Rachel has been approached by General Taylor. Nomad terrorists are attempting to seize control of a nuclear-armed space platform, and only Rachel might be able to stop them.

* * * * * *

Chapter Nine

A FAREWELL PARTY

"Am I being selfish?" Rachel asked, alone with McLane in the empty corridor.

"Missy, if this is what you need, you should have it," McLane answered.

"Thank you for not trying to stop me. I know it's been hard."

"Don't be fooled. I'd stop you if I could."

Rachel adjusted her NASA jumpsuit, powder blue with red stripes down the sides. She wore black boots. Her freshly washed hair hung to her shoulders.

"Is my makeup okay?" she asked.

"You look great," McLane replied, opening the door.

The Officer's Club had been reserved for the private party. General Taylor officiated while Captain Mike Martin played bartender. The large room had green leather booths, flags, banners, and a piano. Deli snacks were arranged on the side tables. Rachel found Pamela, Rory, Sheila, William and Samantha on one side of the room. Walsh, Virginia, Eric and Kevin on the other. Tom lingered in the back, by himself. They seemed surprised by her uniform.

"Look, everybody, I'm an astronaut," Rachel said, waving her hands. "They're going to let me fly a spaceship, and I don't even have a driver's license."

"A spaceship?" Rory said.

"It's a secret mission. Don't tell anybody," Rachel responded lightheartedly.

"Very secret," General Taylor said. "Ladies and gentlemen, Rachel has generously offered to help us with an important mission. We're very grateful to her. Please enjoy the facilities. Let me know if you need anything."

Taylor retired to a stool behind the bar. Tom rushed forward to take Rachel's hands.

"What's this all about?" he asked.

"One of the space stations has a technical glitch," Rachel said. "They need someone with special skills to fix it."

"Why you?" Tom pressed.

"I volunteered," Rachel answered. "It will be exciting."

"Don't they have real astronauts for that?" Rory asked.

"I am a real astronaut, Ro. I have training and everything," Rachel said. "We only have a few hours. Let's eat, and drink, and have fun. I want dancing."

Pamela came forward, inspected the uniform, and looked into Rachel's eyes.

"Honey, is this something you really want to do?" Pamela asked.

"It's important work," Rachel replied. "Sheba, I'm so glad you were able to come. We need to talk later."

"I always have time for my favorite cousin," Sheila said. "You're very impressive in that outfit. Are you really going into outer space?"

"Really going," Rachel confirmed, staying upbeat. No one seemed to be catching on, which made her feel better.

The Harpers were hanging back. Rachel wasn't pleased there was so much distance between Tom and his family.

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Harper. I'm so glad you could come to my party," Rachel greeted. "Hi, Eric. Hi, Kevin. Have you been here before?"

"No," Eric said, glancing at General Taylor. "The Executive Club is rarified air."

"Don't be afraid of the general, he won't make you re-up," Rachel laughed. "Want a drink?"

The crowd gradually moved toward the bar, forcing them to stand closer together. Rachel went to Tom.

"What's wrong, lover? Don't you Navy guys like the army?" she asked.

"I'm not happy about this astronaut business. It's dangerous," Tom replied.

"The Reserve still calls you back for missions. Some of those are dangerous."

"I spent ten years in the navy. It was my job, and I'm good at it."

"And I'm just a girl? A skinny little girl?" Rachel said, sliding up against him. And then she stared with big brown eyes. "A skinny, sexy little girl?"

"You are that," he answered with a smile, pulling her into his arms for a kiss.

"They're giving me a private room tonight," she whispered. "The Presidential Suite. I'm allowed to have company."

"Am I invited?" he asked.

"Yes, but I'm the guest of honor."

Rachel went to the bar where Captain Martin was mixing old-fashions using Irish whiskies. He seemed a pleasant young officer, tall and clean-cut. Likely chosen for being discreet.

"Hi, Eric," Rory said, going to shake hands.

"It's good to see you again, Ro," Eric replied. "Sorry we haven't been in contact lately."

"Things happen. You know, not all of my girlfriends are gay. If you make it out to Los Angeles again, I'll set you up," Rory offered.

"That sounds like fun," Eric agreed.

"Have you met my cousin? Sheba? She's the CEO of World Health Database," Rory introduced, waving Sheila over.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Marbury," Eric said. "I've seen you on TV."

"Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Harper. Rory talks about you all the time," Sheila replied, finding the broad-shouldered young man attractive. Even if he was eight years her junior. Eric gave her a second look. The famous WHD chieftain was striking, with short black hair, diamond earrings, and eyes like a panther.

"This is my mother, Virginia," Eric said, continuing introductions. "And my slightly older brother, Kevin. And that's my father, Walsh."

Sheila shook Virginia's hand and gave Kevin a warm smile. She ignored Walsh.

"I'm sorry to ask, Eric," Rory softly questioned, "but why is your father here? I can't imagine Rachel inviting him."

"Well, she did," Walsh said, intruding on the conversation.

"Excuse me, Eric. I don't want to be rude," Rory said, turning away.

"Go ahead and be rude," Walsh dared.

Rory turned back with a flare in her green eyes. Clearly she had something to say. Then she noticed Rachel standing behind the bar next to General Taylor, watching from a distance. Rory declined the challenge.

"Everybody, I know this is tough," Kevin said. "Maybe we should get it out in the open?"

"In deference to Eric and your mother, I can't say what I really think," Rory replied.

"I can," Sheila said, stepping up.

"Say your piece, young lady," Walsh dared.

"So here it is, Mr. Harper," Sheila responded. "Rachel is the smartest, sweetest, most giving woman I've ever known. I love her like a sister. And you treated her like dirt. Anyone who is okay with that isn't okay with me."

Sheila stared at Walsh for his reaction. She clearly wasn't the shy scientist Rachel was. Walsh turned and walked away. Virginia offered a look of apology and followed.

"I love my dad, and I can't claim to understand what this is about," Eric said. "But I'm with Tom. He loves Rachel, and that means I love her, too."

"Count me in," Kevin agreed. "Though if Rachel dumps Tommy, I'm next in line to marry her."

"I saw Rachel before you did," Eric objected, giving his brother a shove.

"I'm better-looking," Kevin insisted, pushing back.

"I'm smarter," Eric declared.

"I'm bigger," Kevin threatened.

"Okay, I see where this is going," Sheila praised, taking Eric's arm. "I think I'm going to like you boys."

"Eric, I don't think you've met my younger brother, Bill Benson, and his lovely bride, Samantha," Rory said. "Billy is designing boats these days. Sam is getting a graduate degree in marine biology."

The younger Bensons and Harpers shook hands. Everyone seemed relieved for a break in the tension.

"Is this your work?" General Taylor whispered to Rachel.

"What do you mean, sir?" she quietly answered.

"Trapping hostile forces in a small place where they're forced to confront each other?"

"I'm not good at these personal relationship things, but even I know there's going to be damage left behind. They need to resolve these issues now. Before it's too late. It will make the grieving easier."

"I'm sorry for getting you involved. I hope you know that."

"Frank, I knew this was coming before you did. I hoped the math would change, but it rarely does."

"If I can help change the math, you'll let me know, won't you?"

"That all depends, sir. In the meantime, this is still my party."

Rachel adjusted her collar, straightened her shoulders, and rushed out on the main floor.

"That's one gutsy little girl," Captain Martin said in a hushed tone.

"One gutsy little woman," Taylor corrected.

"Hey, everybody, want to hear about my astronaut training?" Rachel said. "Mr. Harper helped, and dozens of others. They have big testing machines and all kinds of fancy equipment. I did great on the tests. Didn't I, General?"

"You sure did, Miss Marbury," General Taylor agreed. "Everyone was impressed. Weren't we, Walsh?"

"No one could have done better," Walsh conceded.

"Isn't this a wonderful suit?" Rachel said, going to Virginia and her sons. "I get to keep it after the mission. Look, it has a NASA patch and everything."

"Very professional, dear," Virginia complimented. "You're a regular Sally Ride."

"You look great," Eric chimed in.

"Rory is in town for a few days," Rachel mentioned. "Will you take her out on the town again? Didn't you have fun the last time?"

"I'd be happy to," Eric replied, offering Rory a smile.

McLane began playing a soft, jazzy tune on the piano. Rachel grabbed William's arm, pulling him out on the dance floor.

"Enjoying married life?" Rachel asked.

"It's great. Just like you said it would be," William replied.

"I'm very proud of you. I hope you know that," Rachel said.

"Everything I've become is because of you," William insisted. "You turned my life around."

"It wasn't hard. Sam, where are you? Get over here," Rachel coaxed, drawing her sister-in-law out on the floor. "Any plans for the baby shower?"

"No. So much has been going on," Samantha said.

"Can't keep putting it off. Babies don't wait for tardy parents," Rachel warned. "Thomas! Why aren't we dancing? Bobby, pick up the pace!"

McLane played a faster tune as Tom joined in. Rory danced with Kevin while Eric danced with Sheila. Virginia drew Pamela to a table where the mothers could talk. Once the party was finally going, Rachel withdrew to a bench in the corner, taking Sheila with her.

"Having fun?" Rachel asked.

"It's different," Sheila cautiously answered.

"Have a moment for business?"

"Always. For you."

"This is important, but I don't want to overstep," Rachel worried.

"What do you need, honey?"

"I know the business journals call you a shark. Even Daniel thought you were aggressive. I've felt that sometimes, too. But you've always been loyal to me. My shark. I need you now more than ever."

"Rach, what are you talking about?"

"This is my Last Will and Testament. I've named you my executor, if that's okay?"

Rachel reached into her pocket, taking out a thick envelope, and looked at her with a hopeful expression.

"Of course. Sure, honey," Sheila agreed.

"Little Daniel and Thomas are my beneficiaries. My accountant says I'm worth about two billion dollars."

"With your patents, it will be more than that."

"Danny and Tom don't need that much money. A hundred million will be plenty. There's money for Martha, Jackie McLane, Mr. McLane, and his daughters. Some of my friends in Ketchum and Juniper Springs, too. But there will be lots of money left over. People will fight over it. You'll need to be firm."

"Rachel, what's this all about?"

"Space travel is hazardous."

"No, it's more than that. I know you. You wouldn't be talking like this unless something was wrong."

"Let's not speak about that. Not tonight. For the rest of the money, I want you to do good-guy stuff with it. Scholarships for lost kids, like I was. Experimental treatments to fight diseases. I always wanted a puppy, but couldn't take care of one. Help animals, too."

"Rach--"

"Sheba, I know putting this on you is unfair, but you've always been my rock. I love Mother, and Rory, and William, but when the chips are down, I need you to be there for me. I know everything will be okay if you're in charge."

Sheila leaned back, studying her friend. When she finally realized what Rachel was saying, she struggled for composure.

"From that first day at Canby Place, when you put your faith in me, I've felt transformed," Sheila confided. "You don't just change lives, you change worlds. I'm so grateful to be a special part of that. Don't worry, I'll build the legacy you want."

"Thank you so much. And please, be kind to Mother. I know it's hard. There's difficult history there, but she's more sensitive than people think. Change is hard for her."

"Pammy and I were close before I took up with Daniel. I'll find a way to get that back."

Rachel acknowledged her with a nod, but no tears. Which had Sheila worried. Rachel noticed and smiled. "Come on, this is a party," she said, drawing Sheila up.

McLane stayed at the piano, observing but not participating. Rachel spent more time with Samantha and William, then Eric and Kevin. She even spent a few minutes with Virginia, making small talk before getting back to Pamela. She didn't deliberately avoid Walsh, but made no effort to speak with him either.

"Come on everybody, drink up," Rachel urged. "NASA is paying for all of this. Mother, you aren't dancing. Get over here. Rory, dance with my boyfriend."

Soon all the ladies were on the dance floor. Walsh fell back toward the bar next to General Taylor, watching as Rachel switched partners, dancing with Tom, and then Kevin, and then Eric. She looked out of breath.

"This is all a big joke to her, isn't it?" Walsh grumbled.

"What?" Taylor asked.

"This spectacle. Dancing. Singing. Getting drunk."

"You know, Walsh, you really are a fucking idiot," Taylor grumbled.

"Where is that coming from?"

"It's her farewell. Who are you to judge?"

"Farewell? She'll be back in seven days, bragging how she rescued the ISS."

"She's not coming back."

"What are you talking about?"

"Rachel isn't going to the space station. She's going to HEO-6. Trying to retake control from Nomad, but nobody thinks that's possible. McKay's mission is to evacuate the crew. Rachel will be staying behind to initiate the self-destruct."

"You're not making any sense, Frank."

"Goddamn it, Walsh. Once Nomad has control of the platform, they'll launch the goddamn missiles. Six Cheetah A5000 tri-boosters with eighteen multiple vicinity warheads. They'll take out Washington. New York. Berlin. Tokyo. Our team can only block the launch sequences for so long. When the time runs out, Rachel will activate the failsafe to destroy the platform."

"No one told me about this. No one told my staff."

"Need-to-know only. Even McKay doesn't know the score. How are we supposed to tell the world we're sending Rachel Montgomery on a suicide mission? How do we tell her family?"

Walsh looked again at the young woman dancing gaily with his sons. He saw her more clearly now. There was anxiety there. A forced merriment.

"Don't let her do it," Walsh said.

"We've got no choice. Nomad has targeted millions of people, and we don't know any other way to stop them. Even Rachel hasn't found a way."

"How long has she known?"

"From day one. That woman is no fool."

"My boy is in love with her. Crazy in love."

"That's why she doesn't want him to know. Not any of them. Except McLane. She wants a goodbye party, not a wake."

"I can't let you do this."

"It's not up to me. And be careful what you say, unless twenty years in a military prison for violating national security appeals to you."

Walsh studied the room, paying extra attention to McLane. He was keeping an eye on Rachel under a bent brow. Devoted but unobtrusive. Worried. Sad. Sheila Marbury seemed to know something. She looked upset. Pamela Benson appeared nervous but unsure. Tom was being brave, unhappy about the space flight without knowing the implications.

"Sorry, Frank, this isn't going to happen. Find another way," Walsh said. He walked out on the dance floor, grabbed Rachel by the arm, and pulled her to a corner. When he saw everyone watching, he took her out into the hall and closed the door.

"Call this off," Walsh said.

"What are you talking about, sir?" Rachel replied.

"The mission. Taylor told me everything."

"Then you know why the mission needs to proceed."

"Taylor says you're not coming back."

"The math isn't good," Rachel conceded.

"That's all you've got? The math isn't good? My son is in love with you."

"I'm a creature of duty, Mr. Harper."

"No duty requires this."

"Weren't you in the service?"

"Yes."

"Were you sent into combat?"

"I was."

"And what did you say? You can't go because you have a girlfriend?"

"This isn't the same."

"If there was someone better qualified, I'd advise the army to recruit them. But there isn't. I'm not even sure it will work. Nomad may still launch the missiles, and this will all be for nothing."

"Then find another way."

"I won't give up. If there's a way to come back, I will."

"Damn it, girl, you're not listening," Walsh said, taking hold of her arms. "You can't do this. You can't."

And then something very strange happened. She was staring at him, her gaze focused. She straightened her shoulders, the hair pushed back. Walsh found himself under an intense examination, a sensation so strong it had a physical presence. It only lasted a moment. His breath was short. He felt drained. Had her eyes changed color?

"You're a good man, Mr. Harper. But you need to grow up," Rachel said.

"I'm not talking you out of this, am I?"

"That was never going to happen, sir. Luke 17:10."

"Not everyone knows the Bible as well as you do."

"I think that's for the best," Rachel sighed.

"Help me understand. Please."

"You already don't like me. You'd like me even less."

"That's not true."

Rachel sat on the floor, wishing she'd brought a drink with her. Walsh knelt next to her.

"My father was a cruel man. There was no family there. During my teenage years, none of the foster parents wanted a troublesome mentally ill girl in their home. During my year in high school, I worked part-time. I had no time for friends, even if I knew how to make one. At Harvard, all my focus went into my studies. Friends, family, love, these are all confusing to me. At one point or another, I've failed at all of them. But I know how to give everything for a project, and this one is vital. I'm not confused about that."

"You've got it backwards, young lady," Walsh said. "I see the people around you. I see my son around you. You are deeply loved."

"That doesn't mean I know how to love them back. Most of the time, I'm only guessing."

"Rachel, we all do that. It's not a defect. It's human."

"I want what's best for them. I want the best possible world for my son," Rachel explained. "It's not the world Nomad wants. Do you know another way to stop them?"

"No, I don't."

"They need to be stopped, sir. And if losing one crazy damaged girl is what it takes, then that's the price that will be paid. I've done the math."

"I wish you'd stop saying that," Walsh complained.

"I'm missing my party. Go back inside. I'll be along in a moment."

Walsh stood up, feeling older, and helped Rachel to her feet. She seemed so small. So vulnerable. He wanted to give her a hug, but assumed he'd be pushed away. She turned, going down the hall in the other direction.

The Officer's Club was quiet when he reentered. Everyone was looking.

"Nothing bad happened," Walsh said. "I think she went to use the ladies' room."

"I'll go check on her," Rory said, rushing out. Walsh went to the bar.

"Old Fitzgerald on the rocks," Walsh requested.

Martin poured the whiskey. Taylor said nothing. Walsh motioned for a second glass and went looking for Pamela.

"I would like to speak with Mrs. Benson alone," Walsh requested. "The rest of you, go back to what you were doing. You don't want Rachel returning to a funeral, do you?"

Walsh took Pamela to a booth in the corner. As they sat, Walsh kept one glass for himself and put the other in front of Pamela.